Queen Yavara

Part Fifteen: Who You're Meant to Be

Chapter Fifty

ZANDER

"Make way for the queen!" the crier yelled. One goblin rang a bell, another blared a farting trumpet, a third struck a snare with a military cadence, and the crowd roared with laughter.

"Make way for the queen!" The crier yelled again. The trifecta of successive noises sounded, and the laughter and jeers answered once more.

"Make way, make way, make way!" the crier yelled atop the float, zealous and gleeful with his role. He was dressed in the traditional garb of a Highland officer, though his trousers were missing, and his cold-shrunken cock was bouncing wildly as the wheel beneath him struck the uneven cobblestones. The band that proceeded him were all dressed in a similar mockery of Highland pomp; their hats askew, their skinny green legs poking out from the uniformed shirts. They marched in an exaggeration of military bravado as they played their instruments purposefully terribly, much to the amusement of everyone, including the officers who once wore those very uniforms. The vampires watched the parade from their perches atop the roofs, their red eyes swimming with amusement beneath their black cowls. The transformed men and women no longer bore an inkling of who they once were, and instead cheered along with the rest of the beasts as the parade made the bend toward the castle.

"Make way, make way, make way!" the crier yelled, swinging his baton animatedly, "Make way for the queen of the Highlands!"

It was becoming difficult to differentiate Leveria Tiadoa from the mud she crawled upon. She was caked in brown and black, her blonde hair matted to her neck and back, her voluptuous figure moving like an earthen silhouette against the street. It was difficult to tell with all the waste hanging off her, but it appeared that she had a pair of cow horns tied to her head, and her swollen belly was decorated with fake bovine udders. Yavara walked behind her sister, a leash in one hand, a whip in the other, a wide, evil grin stretched across her face. She wore her customary outfit of leather boots, corset, and a thong, each garment as black as her hair and the obsidian crown that circled it. It was like a vision from my past. The Dark Queen had returned, and yet, there was something wrong with it all. There was no control. Yavara did not laugh sardonically, but cackled insanely, swept away by the chaos she perpetuated. Alkandi had been the queen of chaos, but Yavara was just another slave. Ever adaptable, my little Yavara was, always shaping herself perfectly to the situation, but never shaping the situation itself. And if she couldn't shape herself? What if the situation was too overwhelming? Well, then Yavara went mad. I glanced at the crawling Leveria, then at the crowned skull atop my staff, and sighed at its grinning visage.

"You seem displeased, Zander." Arbor said beside me. We stood alone in the high northwest tower, watching the revelry unfold below us. "Is this not what you wanted?"

"It is, actually." I said with a shrug, and began packing my pipe.

The forest spirit took my pipe from my hands, and tossed the loose tobacco from the tower. Before I could object, she'd grown a new leaf in the palm of her purple hand, dried it, and sprinkled it into my bowl. She put it to her lips, and I lit it for her. After taking a deep inhale, she let the cloud cascade from her lips, and into the frigid air.

"I enjoy smoking much more than I ever thought I would." Arbor said, "When I was bodiless, it puzzled me that mortals would willingly put poison into their lungs. Not only poison, but addictive poison. Now, I understand. The flesh is meant to be damaged. It is pleasurable to be self-destructive, and at times, to be destroyed by others." She ran her fingers along the needle marks that tracked her left forearm along the vein. "I enjoy narcotics greatly, even though I know it kills me a little. I enjoy having sex with my children, even though I know it is warping us." She looked out at the parade, "I enjoy seeing Leveria suffer like this. She would have chopped down my forest just for the wood, and killed my daughters just for being in the way. I do not know if it is just, but it feels very good."

"That's Alkandra." I muttered.

"I daresay we will not see the true Alkandra until the horde's arrival. In three nights, this place will be pure anarchy." Arbor took another hit from the pipe, and sighed contentedly as the smoke flowed from her. "I do so enjoy these delights, Zander, but I fear their influence upon me. Right and wrong used to seem so easy to define, and now it is so very hard. That is how I know I am becoming corrupted." She watched the plumes disappear into the air, "It is not like before, when Elena's seed took hold of my mind. It is a willing descent into depraved and carnal things. Every day I make the wrong choice, and every day I feel less guilty about it."

"Maybe you've just gotten a new perspective."

She smiled at me, and it wasn't the usual coy curl of her lip, but a lecherous smirk, one that looked wholly wrong on her stoic face. It made her beautiful in a terrible way, her angelic features corrupted with the devil's grin, and it stirred me greatly.

"A new perspective, Zander?" She giggled, "I am a new woman entirely. I am evil, I know I must be, for it arouses me to imagine the tortures Leveria will endure at the hands of her sister."

I slid myself closer to her. "I never pictured you for a sadist."

Her grin turned even darker. "It arouses me to imagine being Leveria."

LEVERIA

It felt like I was crawling across hot coals. My hands and knees were rubbed raw, and every scrape and bump along the muddy cobblestones was a torture upon the open flesh. My arms and legs quivered with the strain of moving one more inch forward, but I dared not stop, for I could feel the lashes Yavara had already dealt across my back, and the deep stings propelled me ever forward. When the parade had first started, I'd been horrified of the leering faces that lined the promenade, the tens of thousands of beasts whose hatred burned in their eyes and edged in their laughter. When the first clumps of mud and waste struck my flesh in wet splatters, I thought I must've crawled into the deepest pit of hell. Now, I realized I'd been at the doorstep.

I'd crawled a mile since then, and I hardly noticed the crowd that cheered me on. The stinking refuse that pelted me was as innocuous as rain now, for it hung from my hair, covered my flesh, and saturated my nose and mouth. I was shit. If there was any benefit to the muck that plastered me, it was to guard against the cold. Oh, the cold. Not only did it numb my fingers and toes, but it stiffened every motion, making me brittle where I might've been soft. My flesh broke easily, my muscles bruised readily, and my joints stiffened arthritically, seeming to grind against the bone they were socketed within.

But by far the worst torment I endured, was the pleasure. Oh, Yavara wouldn't have it any other way. It wasn't good enough for her that I be humiliated, brutalized, and ravaged. No, I had to

enjoy it

too. She had taken a page out of my own playbook. My belly was distended with the fluid she'd pumped into my ass, and that warm concoction sloshed with every motion, carrying the aphrodisiac deep into my bowels. The girthy plug held everything inside me, making certain I soaked up every drop of pleasurable poison. Every humiliation I endured, I fetishized; every pain I felt became a kink, and by the time I rounded the final bend of the road, I'd become the lowest piece of filth in the city.

"Moo for them." Yavara demanded.

"M-m-m-moo!" I whined, loving and hating the laughter that answered me.

"Louder!" Yavara yelled, and the lash struck my back.

"MOO!" I screamed, my spine bowing in equal parts pain and pleasure, the welt on my back tingling with torment and titillation. Spit leaked from between my gritted teeth, and I barely held myself upright.

"Keep moving!" Yavara snapped, and her whip cracked across my back once more. I was compelled forward, the cowbell around my neck clanking loudly, creating a harmony with the other heavy bells that hung from my pierced nipples, stretching my tits to my elbows. It was agony, but every time my back arched, one of the bells dragged against the ground, and the stimulation it sent to my nipple lit a felicitous flame in my chest.

The jangling bells sounded as I rounded the bend. When I saw what lay before me, I collapsed in despair. The boulevard opened up into an expansive highway. Towers loomed over the street, and tens of thousands of beasts lined the walkways and waved from the high windows and balconies that seemed to stretch into the winter sky. The entire world seemed to follow the trajectory of the highway as it narrowed to a dot, and there on the horizon, stretched the arena. My destination.

The whip sung across my back, and I was spurred back into my crawl. The bells jangled, the crowd cheered, and the crier announced my arrival with even more glee. I followed my marching band, staring from the tops of my eyes through mucked hair that was clotted into dreads, stumbling on hands and knees that I could no longer feel the surface of, but I could still feel the pain. It was the only thing that kept me upright. I was pelted ceaselessly from the windows above, splashed with waste thrown from chamber pots, and caked with mud hurled from the children that laughed gleefully at my state. Yavara's arcane shield protected me from the bricks and stones, but she let in the rotten fruit and shit. And even as I endured the barrage of grotesque volleys, I was aroused. Terribly aroused. My bovine moos were dripping with moans, and the more I was degraded, the more I suffered, the more I was humiliated, the sexier I felt. I was a silhouette of disgust, a celebrated and scorned symbol of debasement, and I felt strangely beautiful. It wasn't just the aphrodisiac that sloshed in my belly. Someone else had awoken this side of me long ago.

"Thank you, Elena." I hissed under my breath. The only parts of my flesh that could be seen through the layer of muck, were the tear tracks that ran down my cheeks. Tears of horror. Tears of ecstasy. "I know you will get me through this."

And so, I crawled. I did not shuffle along like a broken cow, but slinked sexily down the highway, my hips swaying, my shoulders hunched. I licked the muck from my lips, and grinned at those that lined the walkway. When I made eye-contact with them, their faces froze, and an expression of confusion came across them. It was only for a precious moment that I would capture them with my stare before a piece of garbage struck my head and severed the contact, but it was enough. Whoever that person was, they would know I was not broken. I would never be broken. And contrary to what Yavara had said, there would be no seven days of retribution for me, for there was someone in the city waiting to grant me my final mercy. I had kept my mouth shut about Adrianna. She would make sure I continued to.

It took me an hour to get down the promenade. The last hundred yards were the worst. The fatigue that had been held at bay suddenly seized my limbs when I was so close to the end, and even Yavara's whip could not spur me to move. It was only when two orc attendants came to my sides to lift me, that I found the strength to get back on my hands and knees.

"No!" I snarled to them, "I will do it!"

They were taken aback by my ferocity, and I savored the uneasiness in their eyes. I grimaced, lifted myself shakenly from the ground, and slowly plodded my way to the entrance of the arena.

There were six figures waiting for me there. They were like angels standing in the midst of hell; bronze beauties of platinum hair, adorned with silken white robes that reflected the light. The hybrids. Carried by the mechanical motion of my crawl, I moved ever-closer to them, my broken nails scraping against the cobblestones, my raw knees and feet dragging afterward. I could identify them now. The tallest among them was Eva Alecia, the infamous entertainer of Alkandra. Beside her was a shorter and bustier woman; Soraya Poneria, who was the treasurer of the kingdom. Watch Commander Faltia Dafian stood strongly and stoically beside Soraya, the voluptuous Populations Director Brianna Dedaclia had her weight shifted on one hip, the slenderer Agricultural Liaison Kiera Lestria carried herself with an easy posture, and the graceful Magistrate Furia Augustinia stared at me with blue eyes full of hatred. I didn't have to guess why. My heart bottomed my chest when I noticed who was absent. I had kept my mouth shut, but Adrianna hadn't.

Yavara yanked on my leash, and I collapsed onto my belly with a groan. She walked past me, her boots clicking away without even pausing by my sprawled-out body. "Where is Adrianna?" She demanded.

The hybrids all looked to Furia. Furia opened her trembling lips, and whispered back, "Ask Zander."

"I am asking you, Furia." Yavara said gently, though I could tell by her posture that she was terrified of what the hybrid would say.

Furia closed her eyes, and rivulets of tears ran down her beautiful cheeks. "It was not Prince Matthew who betrayed us. It was Adrianna. She confessed, and Zander executed her." Furia looked right past her queen, and stared a hole through my head. She lifted one finger, and pointed it at me. She didn't say anything else, but simply stood, and pointed. That simple gesture infused me with more terror than I'd felt throughout my procession. These hybrids were not Highlanders anymore. There was not an ounce of Adrianna's old loyalty in them. I would suffer. I would feel every ounce of pain Yavara had promised me.

Yavara's fists clenched, and the very ground beneath her tremored. She turned around, and looked at me. "Hybrids of Alkandra," she hissed, "our royal guest has had a long journey. See that she's treated with the utmost of Alkandran hospitality." She yanked my leash, and I was sent sprawling forward. I tasted mud and dirt, and coughed into my arms. An iron grip rooted itself into my hair, and my head was ripped upward. Eva's sneering face greeted me. She wound my hair around her wrist, and twisted it viciously. I twisted with it, crying out in pain, landing awkwardly on my back. The morning light shown dimly through the overcast sky, then darkened when six shadowy figures surrounded me.

"I believe our royal guest is in need of a bath." Furia hissed, her half-tattooed face drawn in solemn wrath. She pulled her white robe from her shoulders, and it cascaded down her body, displaying her bronze beauty to all. Her tattooed cock was hard, but still she aimed it downward, and with a grunt, she unloaded a torrent of urine onto my face. The crowd cheered around us, but no one in the circle cared. I gasped and gargled, the taste of her piss infecting my palate, suffusing my sinuses. It washed the filth from my face and hair, and saturated my flesh with warmth. It felt so good. It was like heaven had opened up from above just to shower me. Eva pulled her cock out and washed my neck and breasts; Kiera snaked hers out and doused my swollen tummy; and Brianna, Faltia and Soraya all squatted over me to shower off the rest. I couldn't help myself. I moaned in delight, and lounged in my bath of degradation, aroused beyond description by the abasement I found such pleasure in. I opened my mouth to catch Furia's stream, and drank from it like a fountain, savoring the sweetness that comingled with the rancid flavor. When the last flow dribbled out, I was left clean and sparkling, stinking wonderfully of their ammonia. Then the air was suddenly sucked from my lungs, and I was folded viciously in half. Eva's foot was planted in my swollen belly, her heel squishing into my guts. She grinned into my bulging eyes as she twisted her foot, adding more and more of her weight onto my midsection until I finally popped.

I screamed. The plug shot from my ass, and all the fluid that had been pumped into my bowels was released at once. It gushed out of me, smelling of the nectarous aphrodisiac at first, then becoming fouler until it was a miasma of filth. I was shitting myself, and I was orgasming violently from it. Waves after waves of pleasure crashed upon me, and as volumes of waste spurted from my loose anus, my thighs quivered in delight. When I found my breath, I screamed out in ecstasy, and stared in transfixed horror and arousal at the sputtering brown stream that was being birthed from my second pleasure-hole. My stomach deflated, the last squirts farted from me, and I fell back with a splash into the puddle of piss, and groaned. The hybrids all stared imperiously down at me, their genitals swollen with desire, but they did not violate me. One by one, they walked away, until only Furia was left standing over me.

"Is this what Adrianna would've wanted?" I whispered hoarsely to her.

She placed her foot on my udder-adorned belly, and pressed until I sharted the last remnants of fluid. When I was gasping for air, she was hovering right over my face, all of her weight on her kneeling leg. "Adrianna's dead." She whispered back, and spit in my face.

ELENA

I hadn't slept for more than an hour in the night. Every time I close my eyes, an image of Leveria and Yavara floated behind them, and my mind began to torture me. It wasn't just the thoughts of my loved ones that ailed my sleep, but the terrible sensation of my consciousness slipping away at the precipice of slumber. I was immediately ripped back in time, lying on my back with the tower above me, the world swimming in hues of fading purple, the icy water taking me, a thought in my dying mind, a single neuron firing away like a candle desperately sputtering before the void. Then... darkness. Nothing. A depthless expanse that I had been a part of, and not a part of. A part of nothing seemed contradictory, but it was what I'd been. I didn't experience it, or perceive it, or even notice it at all, but I felt it now. Nothing. The horror of it was still so fresh, and yet, like a dream that had been so vivid a moment ago, it was fading. Gone. Nothing. I had known it, but I could not recall it anymore.

"But I will know it again," I whispered into the night. "that horror. Like a lost memory, it will come to me before the end, and I will be petrified by it." I closed my eyes, and tears streamed down my face, "I would face a thousand years of torture just to delay the end. Oh god..." But there had been no god to greet me. Or perhaps there had been. Perhaps that nothing was God, the indifferent end of existence, a name for something that was no longer. God. Nothing.

I would've given anything that night just to have someone hold me, but I was alone in Lady Jonias's upstairs bedroom, and my voice was still too weak to scream for her.

"Elena?" Her voice came. I opened my eyes. It was dawn outside; the grey winter skies illuminated by the backing of the eastern sun. I nearly wept.

"Elena?" Lady Jonias asked again, "Did you shit yourself again?"

I turned, and looked down. I hadn't expelled any fluids in the night, but I could feel my bladder pressing hard against my pelvis. With a groan, I threw my weight to the side, and spun off the bed. I landed with a painful thud on the floor, and gasped. Lady Jonias was there a second later to scold me and help me up, but I waved her off when her hands pawed at my shoulders.

"Let me." I grumbled. With the utmost effort, I managed to bring myself to my knees, then lift my torso upright on shaky arms. It was enough. I was still too weak to lift my head up, but from its dangling position on my neck, I could see my chamber pot in my periphery. Dragging my knees across the boards, I slowly plotted a course to the pot. It took all my strength just to get there, and after a feeble attempt to slap it open, I realized I would never get into the necessary position to squat over it. It was enough. With a groan of victory, I collapsed onto my belly, slapped the top of the pot, and pissed all over the floor. Needless to say, Lady Jonias was not pleased.