Princesses Two
"My King," Judith, the 20-year-old middle princess said, going into a curtsy one level below the one she had used to use in his presence.
"My King." Mary, her 19 year old younger sister echoed and matched her sister's pose.
"You'll be happy to hear that your sister's brain fever broke," King Charles said and both girls held in sighs of relief. He had recently turned eighteen and ascended to the throne. Ann, their eldest sister, must have gotten the word of what Judith had said and she, or perhaps a servant or jailer, had helped her give the appearance of a fever. "Quite a few crazy things left her lips, I'm told, but no further treason. I thought you'd like to hear."
"It pleases me that she was not possessed, My King," Judith said.
"Yes. Quite. Up here, sister," he said, taking Judith's hand. His own hand was so cold. She stepped where he gestured, a low table in an archway. There were chains hanging from the right and left side. They'd been mounted as high as they could go while still being as far apart as they could be in the arch. "Right," he said. "Have at it." Judith's arms were stretched up and out and put in manacles attached to the chains. Looking over, she saw Michael, Duke of Calisbury, doing it. He was a few years older than her, blonde and handsome. A scar on his cheek only enhanced the muscular young man's looks. He had a callous smile but she saw a fear that matched her own behind his eyes. It's hard to be in the presence of a mad king. The manacles were screwed shut and she was standing, bound, her body in a shape like a 'Y.'
"Cut her dress off her," the King said behind her. Judith didn't know to whom. "Use this," her brother said. Judith could feel Death standing beside her. This was another test of her loyalty, maybe, or perhaps just a whim. Regardless, she would not falter in doing as she was told or letting her brother's will be enacted upon her.
"My King, I fear it is too large. It is a weapon for a man," her sister started intrepidly. So that's who he had been speaking to, not that it mattered. But maybe she would be less cruel without his specific instructions.
"Use two hands," he growled.
"Of course, my King," and the bound princess could feel someone behind her, Mary. She knew her sister intimately from a lifetime together, the sound of her breath, her smell. The middle sister felt a large dagger shoved between the laces of her corset and her dress. Then her sister started sawing at the trusses. The ties gave way and the stiff garment fell off. The steel was cold on her back as her sister cut her dresses as well. Between luck and her sister's care, Judith's skin wasn't cut, though her good fortune wouldn't last long. The back opened and then Mary was valiantly trying to cut the sleeves so it would fall away. The anticipation was murderous.
When her great garments fell away, Judith was naked in front of a group of men for the first time in her adulthood. No man had seen her this way, whether alone or in a group. She knew she had breasts bigger than Mary's and smaller than Ann's. In the fullness of time she would learn they were pleasing to a man's eye. They were round and firm and, like when she was cold or filled with lust, her nipples were standing straight out. Her hips had swollen from her waist years ago, a shape the corsets she normally wore enhanced, but she barely needed the help. Dance had made her ass round and muscular and providence had made it big and soft. In the future,that was another part of her body men would tell her were special. She didn't know it but the Duke and King were both filled with lust now, their cocks straining in their chausses as they admired her bound naked form.
Judith didn't look back, just waited chained naked in the Royal apartments, her brother the King behind her. "No, I'll do it," he heard him tell someone, followed by the crack of a whip. She started to pray.
The first stroke slashed from right shoulder to left hip in a riot of pain and burning. "Ah!" she shouted and started crying. The second one followed a reverse course, left shoulder to right hip. "AH!" she screamed again, louder. Her brother chuckled. He was enjoying it, something that may save her life and prevent worse torture. Smack! The third slash made noise and hurt more. Knowing her brother was enjoying her cries of pain, she didn't stop. Smack! She screamed herself hoarse and cried herself dry by the time her brother the King finished using a bullwhip from Judith's neck to her ass. When he stopped, some of the heat on her skin started to cool. The leather had flayed the delicate flesh open and she felt her blood oozing lazily down her back. Her legs, normally so strong, were now too weak to support her. Her wrists ached as she hung suspended by the iron manacles.
Judith felt stiff leather tap gently on the underside of her butt. "Stand up, sister," her brother said conversationally. She pushed herself so she stood as he came around in front to look up at her. "Do you know why I whipped you?"
"To punish me, my King?" Judith rasped.
"No. Because it pleased me. And now I'll please you."
"As you wish, my King," she all but whispered automatically.
"Spread your legs." Still standing on the table, she put her feet as far apart as her shoulders. "Sister Mary," he said, beckoning to her younger sister, and she stood where he gestured. She was right in front of Judith, staring at the top of her black bush. Using the whip as a pointing device, he said. "Lick there." Judith felt the whip touch the center of her pleasure, the most sensitive spot on her body. Rubbing it was the only way she knew to cause the 'little death.'
When Mary's tongue touched her clitoris, Judith moaned immediately. Being whipped had hurt her badly but also, she realized, turned her on. Her pussy must be so wet. She imagined the lips and clitoris - of course she knew the name, even if tutors wouldn't tell her - swollen. If only she could reach her pussy. The bound young woman remembered how wet it could get, fluid oozing from it, smoothing the way for her fingers to enter it. She used other things too but was always careful to keep them small enough to keep from tearing the thin ring of flesh at the entrance. She knew its name too, her hymen. No doubt the priests and tutors would denounce a woman pleasuring herself but she felt something so good must be a gift from God, like wine.
"Keep going," her brother was saying conversationally to Judith's little sister as the younger girl, pale with curly black hair like all of them, licked her sister's clitoris. Looking down, Judith could see Mary's face buried in her groin, nose shoved into her older sister's thick black hair, curlier than the hair of her head. "Firmer. There you go. One benefit of having two sisters as concubines," he continued, "is that you can make them do things to each other. Naughty, delightful things."
With Mary busy licking her pussy, Judith groaned in pleasure, "Yes, my King."
"Your voice is back," he said jovially. "We'll soon hear another kind of screaming. Or I'll clap you both in irons. But don't fake it!" he said severely, his hand reaching for his dagger.
Judith looked down into her sister's eyes and Mary looked back. That added to the fire burning in the bound woman's loins. The whipping had added to it, being bound had added to it, the fact that it was her sister giving her pleasure added to it. Obviously trying her best, looking at her sister's face, Mary's tongue was becoming the best thing to ever touch her older sister down there.
"Put a finger up in there," the evil King said to Judith's divine sister and her sister's finger entered where nothing was supposed to go but many things had gone. "In and out," he demonstrated with his finger, pushing up and down in the air.
When her sister started pushing her finger in and out of Judith's pussy while the younger woman also licked her clit, pleasure exploded through the bound princess's body. She didn't need to fake it as she sang out, "Oh, God, yes! Oh! Oh!" Her knees went weak again and again she was hanging from the manacles.
"That's the music I wanted to hear," her brother said. "You'll be taking turns, Mary, so be certain to teach your sister what you've learned." They would live another day. Mary kept going while Judith had wave after wave of pleasure, each one dragging cries and songs from her, until she was done, unable to have more or even stand.
"Very good," King Charles said, "You may stop now. Lick your finger," he said to his older sister. "More sensuous. Now suck it from the knuckle down. Very important. Now bend over between your sister's legs and put your hands on the table. Arch your back. No, the other way," and Mary was bent at the hips, her body horizontal, head up and ass up, her back curving down. There was something nice about the look, Judith, the abused and used girl, thought.
"My turn to cut a dress," the King said with relish. He was sawing at his sister's corset ties, not caring that the point of his wicked dagger was digging into his sister's pale soft skin. It was leaving little bloody furrows, causing Mary to whimper slightly.
The King ignored his sister as he worked, speaking instead to Duke Michael. From her vantage point, Judith could see his bare chest where his white shirt was open. The blonde man obviously had an erection in his pants. "Have you ever whipped a woman?" the King asked the other young man conversationally.
"No, but seeing my King do it has inspired me," he said, somehow sounding obsequious and commanding at the same time.
"Perhaps your wife," the king drawled as his sister's clothing fell away, leaving her naked except for her hair covering. Her black hair had been done in tresses with which she had hoped to please the king and lay on her graceful neck. Her brother caressed her neck languidly with the long blade. Then he used the point to trace curves in her long graceful back, not cutting it, just caressing it like he had her neck. Reaching under his sister, the monarch hefted her breasts where they hung down, then squeezed them harder and harder with hands calloused from fighting. Mary couldn't help but gasp.
Stroking his finger along his sister's soft yet muscular belly, he listened as the Duke offered, "Or perhaps my King would like to whip my wife. I have been told by others that she is quite pleasing." Actually, Judith knew that the Duchess of Calisbury was renowned for her beauty. Blonde like her husband, she had the finest cheekbones, her corsets made her figure look like an hourglass and her skin was most fair.
The King's caress of his sister with the point of his dagger resumed. It drew lazy circles on Mary's big round ass. He wasn't cutting her like he had when he disrobed her. Watching this display, Judith realized that she was once again getting aroused, her pussy getting wet. The tip of the dagger slid down Mary's tailbone and stopped with just the smallest bit inside her crinkled round asshole. Charles was holding it like he would shove it into his sister, stab her with the blade through her asshole. Mary gave out the smallest whimper. "Afraid, sister?" the mad King asked with disdain.
Mary took a second to answer. Judith's own mind raced to figure out the right answer to the question, though there was nothing she could do. "No, my King," the bent over woman with the dagger at her asshole said, the shaking in her voice betraying her lie. "I have complete faith in my brother the King."
"So you wouldn't protest if I pressed this in here," he said and put just the smallest amount of pressure on the dagger. Then he let the point slide over the furry bridge of flesh to his sister's bare pussy. More of the point fit between the lips which Judith saw were swollen with lust. "Or here," the King asked his sister.
"I exist only to serve my King's pleasure." Mary recited the line in a husky voice.
