Suborning Treason

Jean squirmed in her seat as she watched the encounter between her husband and her brother in-law. The return of King Eric had come as a most unwelcome surprise. Jean had been positive that the rumor Eric had been killed in the crusade against the pagans had been true. That was the only reason she had encouraged her husband, Errol to dispense with his regency and instead declare himself king of the realm. Jean had savored every moment of serving as queen by his side. Everyone knew that her weak-willed husband would never have dared to usurp his half-brother on his own.

Though they had different mothers, the two men looked very much alike, tall and dark and broad. Young Errol adored his older brother, Eric, and the two had a firm affection. It was only natural that when the call to lead the crusade came, that Eric would leave his younger half-sibling on the throne as regent as he he led the kingdom's troops. Errol had been quite capable and competent in the role of regent, but Jean had wanted so much more. She desired to be queen, to have the people bow and curtsy before her. The finery the jewels, the life was just so much better as king and queen than as regent and consort. Her husband's decision to name himself king and to set himself in the Emerald Throne had been entirely at her instigation. Had Eric truly died as he was supposed to, Jean would not be in the spot she was in now, nor would her husband be about to battle for his life. Jean had suborned treason, and there could be but one penalty for that crime

Her heart in her throat, she gazed at the tableau before her. The man who truly was king and the pretender to throne were facing each other on an inner courtyard of the royal palace. Despite having ruled for nearly four years, the staff of the palace, the servants, the guards, the soldiers, had remained loyal to King Eric. They threw open the gates and raised a flag of truce, allowing the beloved but usurped king the enter the palace unmolested. Errol was before Eric now, tears streaming down his cheeks and on one knee.

"Brother," stated the returning king. Eric sadly, "I gave you ONE task, I gave you a sacred and noble duty, and you repay me with dishonor, disobedience and treason. Truly you are not the man I'd hoped and believed you were. In all sincerity, I think someone has subverted your soul, you are no longer the man you were, and I believe I know the cause."

As Eric stated that last sentence, his eyes departed from the humbled figure of his brother to find Jean in the circle of witnesses. The look he focused upon Jean froze the blood in her veins before the rightful king's eyes returned to those of his brother, He continued,

"Under the ancient law of this realm, treason such as yours must be addressed by the rightful ruler personally. I thought that I had my fill of killing upon those foreign shores, yet the foulest battle I was destined to encounter would be under my own roof!"

King Eric retrieved a sword from one of his officers and placed it upon the stone floor before his brother.

"Brother, I know you are not an adept swordsman but I give you the option of death with honor. You have no idea how much grief the deed I am about to perform will cause me. Still, I vow, that I shall honor your memory and recall only our pleasant escapades of youth. Now, take up your sword and die like the warrior and brave man that you most assuredly are not. At least leave this world as a real man."

Errol's eyes at last turned up to meet those of his brother,

"Sire, brother, I can offer no defense and no excuse. I will state no evasion and no equivocation for my crimes. I will say that I was bewitched, but at every step my eyes were wide open, even so, now, for the first time, I truly see things clearly."

Jean noted the brief sidelong glance of her husband as he uttered that sentence and it both pained and humiliated her. The royal conversation continued.

"Brother, before you take my life, know that I have always adored you and am truly appalled at my own behavior, would that I was ever the man you believed me to be."

Jean sealed her eyes shut for a long moment, hoping that the vision before her was simply some nightmare. Yet when she looked again her husband and her brother in-law were circling each other with broadswords. Eric was showing his brother mercy he would never show another. Certainly, he had not displayed such favoritism when dispatching pagans with gusto. Even allowing Errol to rise to his feet granted him an honor his treason did not merit. The subsequent sword fight could hardly be called a contest. Errol had never shown any affinity for the blade. He had been indulged by his mother and she had seen to it that he was kept as far from military matters as possible. Her influence with the former king had been enough to see that Errol never received any more than a cursory introduction to swordsmanship, and that she tolerated only because she did not want her son to look foolish at formal events. She wanted him only to be able to draw his ceremonial sword with authority.

Eric allowed Errol to parry several of his thrusts of his sword before he opened a sizable gash in his brother's chest. The pretender to the throne fell to all fours, raised his head and gasped, "Mercy, brother." before King Eric obliged him with decapitation. Jean screamed as she witnessed the sea of spewing crimson, gushing from the still beating heart in his s headless body, that filled the courtyard. Moments later she felt the almost physical stare of newly restored King Eric. When their gaze met, his look of utter disdain and contempt filled Jean with abject horror. Instantly, she realized that she would bear the onus of her husband's and her own crimes. What that might portend for her, made Jean wish, for a moment, that King Eric had removed her own head and not Errol's.

It was several days before King Eric sent for her. Kept under guard in three small rooms in a tower of the palace, Jean was surprised that her status as royal had not been immediately revoked. Se was supplied with a maid and a servant and access to her entire wardrobe, sumptuous meals arrived at regular intervals from the kitchen. Jean could hardly relax and enjoy them, however. She felt as though a particularly heavy other shoe was about to drop. When it fell, Jean was positive her life would no longer be as lavish.

Jean was disappointed at herself for not shedding more tears at the death of her husband. She HAD loved Errol but, truth be told, she had loved the life he provided her far more. Manipulating Errol was the most fun she had ever had, that fact that he was also handsome and well endowed were merely pluses. Jean would have married Errol had he been an obese boring boar. He had been her entree into the life of luxury. It had been so easy to enter his life while he grieved the death of his mother. Always an obedient little boy, she became a surrogate for his affections and devoured her attention. Only occasionally had Jean felt guilt about how she had controlled the man whom she had publicly promised to honor and obey. Jean knew there were all kinds of words to describe women such as herself. Jean found every one of them distasteful.

The expected summons arrived. Jean's servant carefully attired her in her finest gown and skillfully coiffed her hair. "Your Majesty," stated the servant as she fussed with Jean's hair, "certainly it can not hurt to look your best. King Eric, has the same passions as any other man."

Jean gazed into the mirror. A slim, porcelain skinned, brunette stared back at her. Jean was not vain, but she knew she was a very beautiful woman. Her large brown eyes, fair face, carmine lips and lithe figure had attracted many a man's eye since she had been a young teenager. Her looks had opened many doors for her. Jean's humble origins were a thing of the past. She wondered how Eric would dispense with her. Certainly, she thought, he would revoke her royal status, strip her of her wealth and exile her from the kingdom. This was not as daunting a prospect as it seemed. There were well heeled men in many countries. She might not be a queen again, but neither would she have to starve. Whatever humiliation, King Eric had in mind for her, Jean felt sure that she would surmount it. Still the walk to the throne room was the longest of her life.

For the last time the herald announced, "Her Excellency, Jean of Ruritania."

King Eric looked quite handsome indeed in his royal finery seated upon the Emerald Throne. Jean noted that her own throne and its pedestal had been removed from the throne room. Behind the throne, the tapestry that Jean had selected and had created at great expense had been struck from its place replaced with the original totem animal. Eric was known as the "lion of the north" by all. He seemed quite impressive beneath the huge roaring lion on an ice floe. Jean curtsied before the king, butterflies the size of bats flying around in her stomach. She kept her eyes focused upon the floor.

"Look at me, woman." commanded the king.

Jean swallowed hard and did just that. For the first time since Eric had returned from the wars, Jean studied his face. He was still devilishly handsome but he had visibly aged. There were traces of gray in his beard and there was hardness about his visage that had not been there before. Jean realized as the King's stare tore right through her, that Eric would not show mercy. For the first time, Jean began to have misgivings about the future.

"Woman. I can not in good conscious call you "sister" neither are you fit for any royal title or even a name. My sources have confirmed what I had suspected. I adored my late brother. Despite the fact that we had different mothers there was little distance between us. He was not a warrior but he had been a honorable man. Now, because of his treason, he was not afforded even a burial. I built the funeral pyre myself and salted his ashes before scattering them to the four winds. He deserved so much more. He WOULD have had so much more had he not had the misfortune to meet YOU!"

Jean felt like and insect fastened to a board by a pin under the intense scrutiny of King Eric. She wished she could be any where else on earth. King Eric's mood did not lighten as he continued,

"Perhaps, my brother did not possess the sturdiest of wills, however, he would never have disobeyed me had he not been warped. It appears that my former sister in-law aspired to a position greater than that of her birth. Aspiration is no crime, instigating treason however, is something no one should aspire to. My beloved brother is dead only because he chose a spouse poorly. Your beauty captured his eye and your malevolence steered his heart. I seriously doubt that you had more than a passing affection for my brother while he was hopelessly devoted to you. Like a skilled musician you played my brother to obtain the finery and privileged that comes with being queen. In a just universe it would have been you whose head I removed. Yet, even in an unjust universe, sometimes wrongs can be, at least partially, avenged."

A perverse smile darted across King Eric's countenance before he continued. "Woman are you familiar with the legal statures of royal treason in this realm?"

Jean looked up quizzically at the king.

"The rightful ruler must battle the usurper to the death. This has taken place. However, once the usurper is slain, all of his possessions and personages become property of the rightful sovereign. In other words, my former sister in-law I OWN you as I do every part of my late brother's estate! When you consented to be his queen, you legally became property of the realm. The king IS the state and all that "King" Errol once possessed is now mine. In the eyes of the law, woman you are no different from the king's furniture, papers, carriages, or weapons. Had my brother been legitimate king, you would now be a widow, entitled to respect and honor and a sizable pension. Under current circumstances, however, you are of no more value than a chamber pot!"

Jean's mouth fell open in shock and surprise. She had never imagined this outcome!

"I see that reality is beginning to set in, isn't it woman? The question is, of course, what to do with you? Execution is too merciful. Banishment means that you end up in some other man's bed. In his bed you would again conspire. Powerful men in enemy countries would seek you out. Some of those men would like nothing better than to invade this realm. What more could a conqueror desire than a "queen" he could "restore" to the throne, with himself as her king! Further, there is the issue of any progeny that you produced making a claim for the throne of this nation. No, my dear woman, you will never leave this kingdom. So what to do with you? How can I arrive at a bit of justice for my brother and also serve a proper comeuppance to you? I think I have finally arrived at the answer."

Jean looked imploringly at King Eric, "Mercy, Sire ..." she began

"SILENCE!" roared Eric.

Jean fell into a numb silence.

"That serpent's mouth of yours shall never bend another heart to its will. The finery you desire will never clothe your body again, you will be made useful to my kingdom by becoming what you truly are."

King Eric nodded and several soldiers made a semi-circle about Jean each withdrew his sword and pointed it at her.

"Strip, wench," spat King Eric. "to your skin."

Jean's eyes became as large a saucers. "Sire..." she began.

"If the next words out of your mouth are not. 'Yes, Sire' my men will preform the task for you. Your will is no longer your own. You are my property. I would inspect my property as I would a sword or a horse. Like a horse if you are not obedient you will be punished. It is your best interest that you not give me a reason to flog you."

The men inched their blades closer.

Jean looked first at King Eric and then scanned the room. She found not one friendly face or any intimation of sympathy. Jean knew full well that she had been less popular than Errol but she never understood how much enmity she had generated. Apparently the entire kingdom blamed her for treason and regicide. She shivered with fear as sh reached for the closure of her gown.

As the first button parted, Jean exhaled deeply. With a hitch in her voice she begged, "May I have some privacy, Sire."

A malevolent twinkle entered the king's eye as he replied, "Why would a chamber pot or a horse need privacy? As far as I am concerned, you are simply another item from my brother's estate to inventory. Stop wasting my time!"

Jean bit her lower lip as the hand behind her back trembled and struggled to work the rest of the buttons closing her gown. All at once the fabric parted revealing Jean's lovely alabaster back. Feeling the chill on her flesh caused Jean to try and delay her unveiling. She stepped out of her stylish heels and hung her head in shame. There was no way to avoid the provocative wiggle of her posterior as she worked the clingy gown off of her lithe form.

Since the gown had built in support, Jean had worn no brassier under it. Shielding her ample bust as best she could with her right hand and arm she lowered her gown to the floor with her left. King Eric really had to admire his late brother's taste in women. He could see why Errol had let this asp in female form into his life. It was almost a shame that he would not be permitted to test her charms himself, however, she had proved herself too dangerous to be permitted the freedom to conspire anew. What he had in store for her, while not the perfect avenging of his beloved brother, would certainly give her much to contemplate in long years ahead.

Jean stepped out of the dress and was clad now, only in her stockings, garter, and stepins. Eric noted that she was quite fit. He would see to it that she continued to exercise. Even though she would be reduced to a level below that of even a slave, Eric would see to it that she remained beautiful for as long as possible. Preserving her looks would only exacerbate her feelings of loss and shame. Perhaps one day, when she was old and gray, she would finally be contrite enough for her punishment to end, But that day was far in the future.

"Continue." stated the sovereign hoping that his voice had maintained its flat neutral tone.

Realizing that the next step would require the revelation of her charms, Jean rolled her eyes heavenward before reaching for the top of her stockings Jean had no idea how arousing the sight of the black silk stocking rolling down each long sensual leg appeared to the gathered crowd. She began tearing up as her upper thigh was bared to the bright light of the throne room and was sobbing heavily as her garter belt fluttered to the floor. Next, inch by agonizing inch, she lowered her stepins. King Eric had a hard on when he spied the expanse of Jean's neatly trimmed pubic thatch. She truly was a remarkably beautiful woman, he thought, as she stepped out of the undergarment. Once she was naked, Jean tried shielding her nudity with both hands. This caused king Eric to say.

"You shall not conceal yourself from any eye. Place your hands at your sides and slowly turn in a circle."

Jean gasped a weak , "Sire..." and wiped away her tears before she complied and forced her arms and hands to her sides. King Eric noted that his former sister in-law had two of the finest tits he had ever seen. Large, yet in proportion to her frame, surmounted with light brown areolas and erect pink nipples. Beneath the breasts, her rib cage gave way to a trim stomach and a narrow waist with an enticing navel. As she turned, Eric realized that her ass was quite spectacular. For only a brief moment he wondered what her neat furred box would taste like, but any regret he felt towards the fact that he must deny himself that pleasure was transitory.

King Eric nodded towards a page who produced a basket at the end of a pole and held it before Jean.

"Your jewelry, wench. Then I expect you to put down tour hair and remove every pin, braid and comb."

With trembling hands, Jean unclasped the pearls around her neck and, with difficulty, removed the peal and diamond earrings from each lobe. A simple gold bracelet, a gift from her first lover, which she always wore for luck, was next to enter the basket. With dread she realized that her last articles were her engagement and wedding rings. Seemingly for the first time, she realized the depth of her former husband's devotion for her and she shed authentic tears for him as they tumbled into the basket.

It took her an agonizing time to work the elaborate braids from her hair and track down every last pin. Two silver combs, ironically wedding gifts from King Eric, were the last items she surrendered before the basket was withdrawn. Her tears spent, Jean focused upon the tear blurred blot that was King Eric and returned her hands to her sides.

"Woman, just as you now possess no concealment, you no longer own a name. That devilish mouth of yours should be put to a practical use. King Eric paused for effect before he continued. The audience clung on each word as King Eric pronounced sentence. "I declare you an oral pleasure slave of the palace. For as many years as I decree you will set yourself to the task of performing fellatio when ever it is requested of you upon any man I designate."

Jean's gasp joined that of some of the others present. King Eric continued as though he had not heard a single utterance."These tools will ensure that you fulfill your duties." He nodded and several men materialized from behind the swordsmen, all bearing items.

Jean tried to elude the men but was easily captured. Two men forced a steel and leather device about her loins and the others locked a wide collar about her neck. Just as quickly as the men had materialized they vanished, leaving her upon the floor. Warily Jean rose to her feet.