Suikoden V - Falenan Foibles | By : salarta Category: +S through Z > Suikoden Views: 4458 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Suikoden, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination. |
Author's Note: This is a gift fic for geedee. Because he hounded me forever and a day for one! Also for special occasions. It took about two months to write, and to make it clear, geedee only really wanted a fic using Jeane, Sialeeds and Arshtat; I took the liberty of adding in and using others, and choosing what kind of sexing went on. That said, enjoy!
Arshtat Falenas took the throne upon the death of her mother Queen Falzrahm Falenas in the year New Capital Calendar 229. For her first act as queen, she formed a pact with her sister, Sialeeds Falenas, and her cousin, Haswar Falenas, to diminish the risk of future arguments over succession rites by allowing only the reigning queen to marry or conceive children. Sialeeds and Haswar agreed to the plan with no conditions.
This decision came swiftly and with great ease from the years their country saw before Falzrahm became queen in NCC 227. The taint of greed and pride overflowed in greater abundance than the rivers and lakes in all the Falena queendom, stemming from the houses of the Senate until one fateful day in NCC 221, their influence overthrew the bonds of love and family in Falzrahm. From NCC 221 to NCC 226, Falzrahm carried out a bloody conflict against her elder sister Shahrewar Falenas, the next royal in line to reign.
In the final year of the war, Shahrewar, weary of the damage their fighting caused, allowed Falzrahm to take her place on the throne. Shahrewar's gentle mercy toward her people did not go unpunished. For her first official act, Falzrahm sent a Nether Gate assassin to murder Shahrewar. In this way, Falzrahm ensured her future, if short, rule, with her sister as the sacrificial lamb of her inauguration. Modern texts cite Shahrewar Falenas as the final casualty in what has become known as the Falenan Succession Conflict. Some say the mad new queen bathed a fortnight in Shahrewar's blood; no evidence has come to light to substantiate this rumor.
For six glorious years, Queen Arshtat Falenas restored the nation to its former grace. Her pure spirit and kind heart, with her warrior queen-consort Ferid Egan at her side, overpowered the political strife of the Senate and gave her people renewed hope for a just, upright monarchy, one that appeared all but lost with the sins of her mother.
NCC 235 brought new taint to the crown.
"Sialeeds! I'm so happy to see you again!"
Haswar, her hands clasped, smiled as she flounced into the throne room. Before Sialeeds had a chance to respond, Haswar wrapped the younger Falenan in her arms. Her gentle caresses of her cousin's silver hair exposed the porcelain beauty hidden behind that shimmering curtain of locks. Cradling the woman's head against her robed chest, she rocked it like a newborn for scant seconds, when a light shove broke their embrace.
"Oh, stop," Sialeeds said, dutifully adjusting her mismatch hair to again hide the right side of her face. "I'm not a little girl anymore."
"You were at one point... Princess Pot-"
"Haswar!"
The Oracle of Lunas giggled. As her eyes roved, they set upon another Falenan she dearly missed. She approached the throne.
"And Arshtat! It's been years since we last-"
Mere steps away, Haswar stopped, her path blocked by a newcomer to the palace. Lucretia Merces, she called herself. Her name was known to all by her exotic air, made famous when rumors of her life as a concubine to Marscal Godwin first surfaced. So strongly did she impress the rabble with her caramel skin and rich hay-blonde coiffure, that echoes of her arrival persisted on the streets as Haswar entered Sol-Falena. Up close, the cunning edge of Lucretia's keen mind sliced through her, even as the tactician cooled herself with a peacock feather fan.
"I'm sorry to cut your delight short, but I must insist," Lucretia said with a faint, quirky smile. "Time is of the essence."
"I... understand." Haswar retracted her steps. Settling next to Sialeeds, she glanced aside to see her younger cousin cross her arms and scoff at the Karayan in their midst.
Arshtat spoke. "I wish our reunion came on better terms, but what Lucretia says is true. I will let her explain the details."
A nod from the queen silently passed the torch of conversation to Lucretia.
"As each of you know, I advised Queen Arshtat to bear the Sun Rune."
"Yes, I remember it well," Sialeeds spat. Brisk, icy rage poured from the easygoing Falenan sister's lone exposed eye, spiked squarely at the newly appointed advisor.
Arshtat answered Sialeeds' rudeness with the guiding chastise of a mother, and the stern censure of a monarch. "Sialeeds, this is no time for quarrels. We have a duty to Falena."
"I'm sorry your Highness." She bowed.
A wistful sigh passed through Lucretia's slender peach lips. A brief close and flutter of her eyes purged the throne room's heavy emotions biting at her heart.
"Hmm. Yes. The Sun Rune is a difficult burden. There are many who would like to take that power for themselves, but only members of the royal family deserve to bear the Sun Rune... and its sister runes."
Torch embers, blazing in the night, froze as those words sank into each of Falena's royals. Amid the crackle of splitting wood under oil-soaked rags, Sialeeds dared to protest.
"How dare you!" She shouted. "You expect us to bear the Twilight and Dawn Runes as well? It's not enough that you've ruined my sister with your schemes, that you've made her lapse into insane bouts more twisted and cruel than our mot-"
One touch from Haswar's hand was all it took to still her rant. Rage turned to shock as what lay on the tip of her tongue echoed within her like waves on a sprawling, shifting beach. She trembled as her cousin rubbed her shoulder.
Lucretia bowed her head in respect to the somber note laid by the late queen's deeds. "I know I ask much of the royal family, but we can't risk any group from the Senate stealing any of the Three Runes of Falena. Each one holds terrible power. Can I trust you to do what's best for the queendom?"
Silently, solemnly, Sialeeds and Haswar nodded.
Like the slam of a judge's gavel, Lucretia sealed their decision when her fan, fluttering wisps of her hair as she held it from chin to nose, snapped shut. "One of the Queen's Knights has returned to the castle with a famous, skilled runemistress to conduct the ceremony." Lucretia's voice leapt from the quiet of a windless day to a drumming boom as she called out to the Queen's Knight. "Alenia, we're ready."
Emerging from the darkness, tinted in the warm glow of the chamber's torches, a pasty lady knight stepped out from a curtain in her warrior best. A decorative orange, nestled in camouflage among her flaming hair, enriched her coiffed style by its scented secrets dripping from its hair-binding needle holes. Her trusty sword strapped to her back, the eagle emblem of her order glistened upon the headband at her temples. Past the shuffling clank of her heavy leather and thick, curve-sliding armor, a girlish giggle haunted after her steps, revealing a new figure.
Their chosen runemistress' hips swayed as she walked, her crotch thrust forth with each step as if to offer her loincloth-hidden loins to her patrons. Lagging behind the prime focus of her wanton sashay, her jiggly pair bounced for freedom from the oppressive shackles of her flashy, golden skintight bra. The click of hot high heels and cheap jingle of her choker and earrings ceased as she came to a stop beside the throne.
Wrapping her pink ribbon over her shoulders, the woman tossed her high silver ponytail back to gaze at her new clients through squinting emerald eyes, sizing up each sexy model, rubbing her fingers down the spread gap of her open-air cleavage.
"Tee-hee. My name is Jeane. I'll be your runemistress tonight."
Jeane gloried in the rapt eyes upon her, as she circled the throne and draped herself across the queen's lap. Arching her back, she threw her ribbon around Arshtat's neck and crept her bosom to the queen's chin, her cotton pink nipples slipping out the edges of her flimsy top.
Arshtat scowled, glaring down at the pair of breasts thrust upon her. "What are you doing?"
"Isn't this the Queendom of Falena? Rumor has it this land is ruled by customs demanding foreign women offer themselves to the queen on hot nights," Jeane teased.
"The rumor you heard is wrong. Get off."
"I'm trying, but you're making it so difficult for me!"
The low growl of Arshtat's burning fuse of patience went unmatched to the burning glow of the Sun Rune, threatening to swallow the runemistress in its flames. Jeane responded with a giggle and a rise, sitting up to flick the rune on the queen's forehead. Her breasts' jiggle equaled the bounce of her feet in her hop off the throne, as she produced a sake cup full of brew from one end of her ribbon and presented it to Lucretia's tender lips.
"May I at least serve the queen's advisor?" Jeane asked.
Unlike Falena's brusque monarch, Lucretia smiled, lifted the cup and took a tiny sip. "Thank you, Runemistress Jeane. I hate to rush you, but we mustn't wait any longer. Please begin the ceremony."
Jeane nodded, gliding from the heightened steps of the throne down to the twin Dawn and Twilight rune busts. Chanting murmurs, a faint glow, and the runes channeled from their chosen lodging in the statues to small crystals in the runemistress' hands. She turned and presented them to their future hosts.
"True Runes have a will of their own," Jeane explained. "Some bearers suit their runes better than others. One mistake in the bearer or the runes can spell disaster. Are you willing to take this risk?"
"Yes," Haswar answered.
"... Yes," offered a more hesitant Sialeeds.
"Tee-hee! Okay, let's go!"
Jeane's serious tone shifted to a much chipper, delightful one as she pressed the crystals to their foreheads. In reverse, she spoke the same enchantment that gave her access to the runes, passing True Rune wisdom into the royals' bodies. Renewed by their power, Haswar's Dawn Rune marking faded behind her headband while the Twilight Rune tattooed between Sialeeds' half-banged temples.
"It's done," Jeane announced.
Lucretia's gaudy robes hid her slumping shoulders as she softly sighed. "Now we have no risk of-"
"Haswar! Now!" shouted Sialeeds.
Side by side, runelight swirled in a rising funnel around the royals' held hands, Sialeeds' twilight orange glow sparkling beside Haswar's dawn blue lustre. Magic spun to their shoulders, they raised their arms, channeling their runes at their target: Queen Arshtat.
"We won't let you become like our mother!" Sialeeds said. "Since you attached the Sun Rune, I've had to watch you lose more of yourself to madness every day. I knew we could still save you and your reputation if we had a way to purge the Sun Rune, and when Jeane came to Sol-Falena, we found it."
"You fools!" Arshtat slammed her fist upon her armrest. "You have no concept of the harm you're doing. If you try to purge the Sun Rune from me, our enemies will try to take it for themselves. We won't be able to defend our kingdom from itself."
"Arshtat, listen to what the Sun Rune is making you say," Haswar calmly, quietly observed. "When did any of Falena's people become your enemies? You used to see everyone as your allies, now you want to destroy anyone that disobeys your will. You're turning into a dictator. That's not the Arshtat I grew up with."
Through grit teeth, Arshtat responded, "You would rather see the Houses of Barows and Godwin burn the world to ashes?"
"We're not purging the Sun Rune. As Oracle of Lunas, I learned we can use the Twilight Rune and Dawn Rune together in the same manner to force the Sun Rune into a phase of forgiveness. You can be the kind, loving queen and mother you always were. You can use the Sun Rune's powers to perform acts of life and creation."
Glowering on her throne, her rune searing below her waves of silver hair and heavy golden crown, Arshtat barked, "Runemistress! You knew of this plot?"
"Tee-hee! These two fools mean well, but they should have told me their plans. There are grave consequences for anyone that tries to force a rune to change if the conditions aren't right."
"Conditions? You never warned me about... oh." Sialeeds gasped shallow, pressing a hand to her chest. "That was strange. I felt.... oh. Ooooooh..."
From the tips of their fingers, Sialeeds' and Haswar's runic energy transmuted from a dazzling mingle of blue and orange to a muted, rosy pink, as strands of magic siphoned from the twin peaks of Jeane's concealed nips. A vibrant, filling ball split from the runemistress, a third strand snapping itself into the queen's forehead. Waves of pink suffused the royal runebearers, soaking into their flesh and blood forms and infecting what lay beyond. The holy trifecta of Falena cried out, pulses of pleasure flooding their tender mons and bounty of bosom, each royal visage contorted in a streamlined bask of open-mouth, brow-wrinkling delight.
"Tee-hee, this should be fun."
Runelight faded. There sat Arshtat, slumped upon her gilded throne with her head hung low to her chest. The assembled court looked to her, Falena's sloven queen, her heaving chest drenched in sweat fresh enough to bare the tipply caps rising on her robe's damp silk. She snapped awake, her silence shifting to a loud, derisive cackle.
"Ahahaha, you thought you could control me?" Fiery pink mist burned from the corners of her eyes and her quivering, raging mouth. "Me, the ruler of all?"
"Arshtat..." Sialeeds panted.
"SILENCE!" Her rigid, regal self dominated her throne as she regained her perfect posture. She pressed her hands to her stomach, rubbing through her monarch garb. "How dare you raise your hands against me! I am your mother, the bringer of life. I gave birth to new lives for you ungrateful whores when I became queen, and you repay my kindness with a coup?"
"Arshtat... please..." begged Sialeeds. "We didn't mean to-"
"Yes you did. You thought I was stupid enough to believe your story of saving me from myself. I know the truth, with the power of the Charm Rune flowing through my veins. What you wanted, Sialeeds, was a reason for me to let you whore your way through man after man under the guise of marriage, spreading your legs for the highest bidder like the spoiled, golddigging tramp you are."
"Arshtat... stop..." Haswar whimpered. Already, her will sapped to the allure of her cousin's powerful voice, shrinking to the flawless logic of her mistress. "Sialeeds was going to marry before you took the throne and forced her to remain single. She only wants a man in her life again for some intimacy."
"I know what kind of intimacy she wants, and at least it's not as depraved as the kind you want, Oracle," Arshtat sneered.
"What I... Arshtat, what's wrong with wanting to have children?" Haswar asked, trembling.
"You think you're clever, don't you Haswar?" Arshtat accused. "Your deceptions might work on that bimbo runemistress over there, but the reasoning light of my Sun Rune can see through everything. Did you truly think I would believe that your feigned concern for the family line dying out isn't a thinly veiled excuse to fill that gaping, pathetic hole you call a pussy? As the Oracle of Lunas, you're expected to remain a virgin, not invite men from all the known world to line up and ride you until you become a pregnant cow."
"That's not true. That's not..."
Drunk on the Charm Rune's lust, images flashed in Haswar's mind, herself bent over the holy altar of Lunas. She saw herself moaning, the warm bundle of life in her womb supported by a harness crafted by her elven allies. Husbands and sons stood in wait to offer tribute, as daughters and wives sifted the Feitas River for precious gold.
Such dreams of blasphemy brought a heavy groan, jerking her weight forward as she fell to her knees and grabbed her wetting loins.
Lucretia held her forehead, her words slipping from her tongue. "My Queen, stop. I... I..."
Her saucer of sake tipped off the balancing act of her fingers, twirling in its descent and smashing on the ground like so many shards of glass. Her tipsy, lip-smacking demeanor brought her closer to the throne, clutching one of its upraised armrests and collapsing to a sit on the queen's lap. Looking up, she leaned into Arshtat's face as it scrunched to the booze bomb smell of her wino breath.
"I think..." Lucretia said, woozy, "actions speak louder than words. They won't learn from a verbal lashing. You need to punish them."
"You're right as ever, Lady Merces. I was wise to recruit you to my chamber." At that, Arshtat glared at her women and barked, "Line up and disrobe."
Jeane giggled, casting a glance across the women standing to her side. Alenia, Sialeeds, Haswar. The three obeyed, the Queen's Knight's silent, eyebrow-jittering outrage at odds with the blissed out smile painted over Sialeeds' mouth or the shivering innocence in Haswar's blue eyes. Armor clanked, belts snapped and cloth folded as all fell to the same fate at their owners' feet.
Arshtat presided over the proceedings of her court. The evidence presented themselves bare to her judgment, from the slight, small hills pressed against Alenia's chest to Haswar's pair of Lunas mountains. Roving across the lineup, one among them brought a scowl to her lips.
"Jeane! I ordered you to disrobe, and yet you disobey me."
"Are you going to punish me?" Jeane smiled.
"You wear tissues for clothes. Your kind would walk the city naked if my rule allowed it. If you don't obey my will, I shall-"
The queen's stern warning cut off mid-phrase, witnessing the pink sparkle and shine of Jeane's peculiar transformation. In the blink of an eye, the runemistress' golden garments faded from her curvaceous body, revealing the puffy pinkness of her soft studs for nipples and tender folds of her lower lips.
"What is this sorcery?" Arshtat demanded to know. Though she asked, within her heart she knew the answer. She smirked. "I see the Charm Rune holds many secrets. What and who can you change with this power?"
The sly runemistress replied, "Anything."
With an approving nod, Arshtat cackled, "Ahahaha, this is glorious. We shall make great use of this gift, starting with you. That silver hair is far too tasteful and regal for you. You need a girly, bubbly color, something to show my people what a flashy, horny lower-class airhead you are."
Jeane understood. Passing magic through her flowing high-ponytail mane, her shimmering locks tinted the pinkest pink. "Tee-hee, do you approve?"
"Oooh yessss," Arshtat moaned. Her pussy winced as her most stubborn subject obeyed her demands, eerily aware of the specific needs laced within her powerlust. Jeane's sanctions fulfilled, she passed her gaze down the line to her next of kin.
"Sialeeds. Haswar. You stand before me, your bodies as naked as the motives that made you turn against me. What do you have to say for yourselves?"
Sialeeds answered, "I... I only wanted to find a good husband. I don't want to live like a pretty, spoiled princess until I'm old, and my hair has gone from silver to gray. I want to stop living like a teenager and start living like a real woman."
Next in line, Haswar said, "I feel like a female eunuch. I've spent my days in my ivory temple without the touch or smell of a partner, or a cute little kid to call my own. I want a child, Arshtat."
Their claims stated, Arshtat's wild mind imagined a different truth from the ones said by her family kin. She responded, "You're right. The restrictions I set on you were too harsh. I think it's time for me to give you a new set of rules."
Sialeeds and Haswar perked up. Hearts pounding, they listened hopefully to Arshtat's new orders.
"Sialeeds. If you want a good husband, it's only natural that you fuck every man and boy in Falena until you find one that can keep on you for a whole night by himself."
"Arshtat, I-" Sialeeds began... then reneged, as a rock star future of drunken midnight orgies and cranky, sweat and cum soaked mornings made her nipples hard. "If that's what you want."
"I do," Arshtat repeated. "And dye your hair brown. You're not a little girl princess anymore. The men deserve to know what a common, unremarkable whore you've grown into before they fall for your slattern ways."
The tingle of Charm Rune lust overrode the tinge of shame Sialeeds felt deep within, accepting commands she knew she would loathe when pleasure became routine and her bedroom transformed into a torn-up mess of cum and booze. With a sparkle of Jeane's magic, the temporary illusion of chestnut waves replacing her silvery hair would have to do until she went to the market.
Along the line, Arshtat turned her attention to her next victim. "Haswar."
"Should I dye my hair too?"
Arshtat's answer was mischievous as it was mysterious, breasts and breath heaving as her ideas came to fruition by her mere word. "You don't need your hair dyed. You're no longer a woman."
A puzzled Haswar soon received her answer.
"The Oracle of Lunas was once a post taken by a child for her purity, yes?"
"Yes, Arshtat, but I don't see what that has to do with-"
"You are a child," Arshtat pointedly said, her sharp statement silencing the room.
A few seconds later, Haswar laughed, "Haha, don't be silly, I'm four years older than you."
Arshtat glowered on her throne, staring as if to burn it into the Oracle's soul. "You are a child. You want children so badly, the easiest way to grant your wish is for you to become one in the eyes of Falena. With my power, I have decreed that your place as the Oracle of Lunas makes you forever the same as a child. You know the punishment for any who dare to have sex with someone as young as you are, much less if they impregnate you."
She was defeated. Haswar looked down at her mountainous breasts, their twin peaks raging for affection, the land newly declared as untouchable as the Feitas River for its young, virgin soil. When Arshtat cleared her throat, Haswar glanced back up, hoping the queen might grant mercy from such a harsh punishment.
She bore no such luck.
"To ensure you uphold your responsibility as the Oracle of Lunas, rather than secretly fuck your precious elves, you are required to flash your privates for inspection to anyone that asks."
Haswar bowed her head, despairing... when she caught something about the queen's raging, insane mind that she could use to get some leverage. She said, "Arshtat, I said I miss the touch and smell of a partner. You haven't given me anything to satisfy those needs."
"Ah yes, you're a smart little girl," Arshtat proclaimed. "Very well. You can partake in your purification rite whenever you wish."
"Purification rite?" Haswar questioned. She recalled it meant but a special bath to cleanse the body before the queendom's special events. She learned the true, sinister suggestion as it unfolded from Arshtat's mouth.
"Men may unload themselves upon your body, as long as they do not touch it. That way you will get to know the touch and smell of their cum. Aren't I a generous queen?"
"Y-yes, Your Majesty..." Haswar trailed. If she dared, she might have resisted, but as the Charm Rune's power coursed through her, her heart pounded with gentle love for her cousin's wants. She stepped back in line, listening to Arshtat address her last servant.
"Alenia. You've served me faithfully all these years."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Alenia raised her hand, angling it above her forehead in knightly salute to her queen. Her cold, steely attitude tore all emotion but duty and conviction from her visage. She awaited her queen's command.
"Your dedication will not go unrewarded. Tonight, you become more than a Queen's Knight. I christen you the Queen's Maid."
"But Your Majesty!" an exasperated Alenia cried.
Arshtat sneered, squeezing her throne's armrest in her palm... as its gold metal melted into a small puddle at the throne's base. "You dislike your new position? It's an honor to wait hand and foot on the holy monarch of Falena. I've given you the authority to wash my body or kiss my ass as I desire. All citizens in the queendom would kill for the right to serve me so closely."
Alenia, sensing the danger of her refusal, shrank back, roughly gritting her teeth. "N-no Your Majesty. I live to serve the crown. I would love to become the Queen's Maid."
"Then it's decided. Jeane, give my new maid her new uniform until I can have them sewn for her."
Giggling, Jeane crafted an imaginary thatchwork against Alenia's curves. Black high heels gave the impression of raised feet, while her real ones pressed firmly against the floor. A golden apron clung against her chest, the front flap dangling over her crotch as her ass stuck out bare and tempting for a slap. Black cuffs with golden cuff links appeared on her wrists. Her headband transmuted into a frilly black and gold headdress, arching from ear to ear. A belt complete with sheath and feather duster paired off with a glittery golden phoenix tattoo emblazoned above her illusion-crafted deep cleavage. The final piece, a collar, flew to the Knight from Jeane's hand while the runemistress tossed a runestone toward the queen.
Alenia analyzed the finely detailed leather craft and glared at Jeane. "Where, may I ask, were you hiding this?"
"Tee-hee, that's my secret!" Jeane announced, turning her interest back to the queen and pre-empting her question with an answer. "It's a rune. I'll attach it to your hand... and I promise you'll be happy with the results."
Alenia snapped the collar around her neck. At the front, a gem, like a dog tag, dangled above her tattoo. She tugged to get a better view and failed, unaware of what inscriptions or designs may show on the stone. Once Arshtat's new rune faded into her hand, and the queen next spoke, Alenia could guess the sparkling stone's purpose.
"Oh Alenia," the mad queen grinned. "Shove the feather duster in your ass."
Alenia would have scoffed at the order, if her body hadn't set itself against her. Impossible as it seemed, her hand clutched the fluffy end, removed it from its sheath, angled the handle toward her squinting back hole and rammed it deep within. A hard-trained knight, Alenia fought a cry with clenched teeth and let her cheeks squeeze their rear invader. She spun, the next set of unspoken orders playing out as she turned her back on the queen, bent over and shook her rump.
"I-Is this to your liking, mistress?"
"Yes," Arshtat replied. "You can put it away now."
"Ngh!" Alenia stifled a sniffle, yanking the duster from her ass. Slipping it into her sheath, she returned to her default pose alongside the other women.
Arshtat reveled in the obedient display of servants remade. Jeane, the giggling moron, sported a fresh mane of pink. Sialeeds, her harlot of a sister, would sample the whole nation for the promise of a commoner's marriage. Haswar, her immature elder cousin, stood before her as her young daughter Lymsleia's junior. And Alenia, her ever-faithful guardian, readied to attend to her every need.
With Lucretia gyrating in her lap, Arshtat smiled. "Ladies, let us begin this evening wi-"
"Queen Arshtat!"
The doors of the throne room burst open. From the hallway darkness, their mystery guest's silhouette stepped inside, his features filling in the torchlight. A thin mustache and short, slicked black hair distinguished a noble air to his graces, one that faltered as he got a good look at their nation's generous queen. "The citizens of Lordlake have- my word! What in blazes is going on in here?!"
Starting with the noble, a ripple of staring, gawking Falenans pressed their way into the room. A stir of the pants or indent of nipple against dress betrayed perverse thoughts, ones Arshtat observed from afar with the crafty eagerness of her sopping sex.
"Lord Rovere," Arshtat greeted. "You've chosen to come at an opportune time. State your business."
The calm, collected manner of a city leader left Lord Rovere when he needed it most. With a bevy of six beauties watching his humble approach, he stepped up to the throne and bowed at a knee.
"My Queen. The House of Barows has built a dam along the Feitas. Without the river's water, Lordlake can't survive. You must intervene before it's too late."
Arshtat sighed. The weighty politics of Falena forced their way into even her sadist fantasies, like a fly buzzing about a well-cooked feast. Scanning the crowd, sensing the secret want many hid behind dodgy disguises of class, she announced, "Who cares what the Barows do to the river? That's not what you truly want from your queen, is it?"
Lord Rovere blinked. "B-But your Majesty! If we don't receive water from the Feitas, our land will be ruined. We won't be able to survive."
"Other towns and cities can send food and water. You knew this when you chose to march to my castle asking for my help." A whisper into her drunk advisor's ear was enough for Lucretia to rise from the queen's lap, stumbling down the steps and giggling as she collapsed into Jeane's arms. Free to act, Arshtat said, "Your people don't want food or water from the Feitas. They want these."
In a flash of her rune, the great queen threw her robe open for all to see. For the first time outside her bed with Ferid, Arshtat showed the wonders of her composed royal form. Her full, straining bust hung ripe as the freshest of fruits on her chest, her nips slightly darkened by the tint of motherhood. Spreading her legs, she rubbed a finger along the crest of her dripping quim, parting her silver forests to reveal her jutting, hungry clit. As her trail of slickness pooled under her throne, she gloried in rasps and gasps, a few token moans escaping from the ones less able to cope with her sexual might.
"Queen Arshtat!" Lord Rovere said. "This is hardly appropriate behavior for a-"
"Rovere!" Arshtat snarled, her excitement lightly snuffed by his quick reminder. "I am your queen, and as your queen I decide what's best for my people. Since you're too repressed to admit your desires, you will be the first to fuck me."
"No!"
The voice echoed in her chamber. Catching its owner, Arshtat spotted the woman and wrapped her in a magic bubble, floating her to the front next to her darling husband. With the Lord's beautiful wife kneeling at the throne, Arshtat smiled. "Ah, Lady Rovere. You are very much a beautiful woman. Any man would love to get his hands on you... which is why you will eat out my advisor while your husband serves your queen."
"L-Lucretia Merces?" Lady Rovere flushed, glancing back at the messy, smutty Karayan presently discarding her robes and frigging herself in the open. "I couldn't! I've heard the tales about her. I have no desire for women, and even if I did I would never lay with... that."
"Oh but you will. Lesbian sex with a filthy, rampant slut is precisely the type of relationship you deserve," Arshtat ordered, drinking in the delicious squirm of Lady Rovere's distaste for a woman deemed of ill-repute by the ignorant masses. "When you've finished pleasuring my advisor, you may continue lapping at her sex or help Queen's Maid Alenia clean and prepare the other men."
The mere mention of the other men raised mental flags, and like a starting gun, some headed for the door. Their efforts went to naught, as within a hair's width from freedom, the double doors slammed and fused shut by the power of the Sun Rune. Among them, a chosen few lifted within magic bubbles and set down behind Lord Rovere at the throne.
"Five strapping young men," Arshtat sagely observed, licking her lips. "You should be enough for me for the night."
One came forward, and by some act of divine idiocy, dared to say, "But I'd rather have sex with J- AAAHHHH!!"
Flames burst about him, wrapping over his skin like molten bandages as his fire-ridden corpse burnt to dust and cinders.
"Hmph. Anyone else wish to sleep with that bimbo whore back there over me?" Arshtat asked. A dark, delighted glint speckled in her blue eyes when they all vigorously shook their heads. "Good. Let's begin."
So wrapped up in her impending pleasure, Arshtat barely heard the faint, wondering voice in the remaining crowd. "Umm, your Majesty? What about the rest of us?"
She answered, "Oh yes, I forgot about you. The women will line up and squat over Lady Merces until she makes you orgasm. Only Lady Rovere may eat Lucretia out, I don't want anyone sharing her special night with her. The rest of you will take your desires out on Jeane and Sialeeds. Don't be shy. They live for cock."
"And the Oracle of Lunas?" One eager gent asked.
"I see we have a few men ready to release their urges already," Arshtat said. "My cousin isn't available. Children are off-limits."
"Children? But she's thirty-six!"
To that, Arshtat scoffed, "A thirty-six year old with the attitude and behavior of a six year old is still a child. You're allowed to purify her with your seed and inspect her naked body at your leisure, but if you touch her I'll see to it you suffer a very special torment."
Dejected and defeated, the eager Haswar-loving menfolk approached the Oracle of Lunas. Eyes roving, the crowd bunched ever closer, blocking those who failed to secure a closer spot.
Observing the riffraff, Arshtat sighed heavily. "I suppose I need to provide my young-minded cousin with a platform to bare herself for inspection."
Again, Arshtat waved her hand. The dull scrape of wood against marble sounded from behind a nearby curtain, until its source skidded into view. Bouncing down the steps in another orange magic bubble, the small child's throne scooted past parting Lordlake citizens and pressed itself against Haswar's backside.
"This is the throne my daughter used three years ago," Arshtat explained. "She's outgrown it as all maturing ladies do, but I'm certain it should last a little girl like yourself for the rest of your life."
"Th-thank you, my queen," Haswar stuttered.
Overgrown, her adult cheeks dug into the small seat's wooden armrests. Her long silver braid hung against the back of its backboard, her looped bangs arching their ends inches above her stiff twin peaks. Folding her legs in at the knees, she barely caught her heels to the ends of her short armrests and spread her shapely thighs to reveal the glinting shrine of Lunas.
Finally, as Lordlake's men savored her display, Haswar's shrine reddened and contracted as she closed her eyes, cocked her head to the side and exclaimed with an open-mouthed smile, "This little lady is ready for inspection!"
Up to now, the free Knight's Maid watched these unfolding perversions with autonomy, smirking to the colorful insults laid by the queen against her own loving cousin and sister. That ended sharply when a table crashed into her side.
"Ow! What's the meaning of this?" Alenia bitched.
"Alenia, you've been slacking," Arshtat said. "Be a good maid and put your hands and mouth to their proper use for once."
The scowling former knight stared dull-eyed at the queen for the scantest of seconds. Pulling the table closer to the throne room's double doors, she furiously snatched up a bottle of lube, squeezed it into her hands and slathered the gel from wrist to fingertips.
"... Who's first?" She dared the crowd with a deathly sneer.
Nearby, Lady Rovere reduced herself to her hands and knees. She glared scornfully at the plumped up dark Karayan pussy spread wide open before her, past a pair of legs hanging out with as much immodesty as a common man leaving the toilet seat up. She almost gagged at the way the slut popped her head up to leer back with a smutty, drunken smile.
"Hey, get on with it!" Lucretia cheerfully demanded. "My pussy isn't going to lick itself!"
"Such vulgar language from a barbarian..." Lady Rovere deplored before crawling into the delegate seat awaiting her tongue. Courting came into session when Lady Rovere's presiding pinkness slipped into its decided placement, Lucretia's wild blonde wisps fanning around her mouth.
"Yay! I... huh?" The tactician exclaimed and wondered, when a shadow lingered over her head. The heavenly musk of womanly loins flowed into her nostrils as the unknown figure gently brought her lips down over Lucretia's face.
The woman shifted until she found a comfy settle. Her feet lifted from her sandals, her heels pressed against her ass as she threw her kimono back to Lucretia's chin. Fixing her chain-linked glasses, she brought both hands to tensely squeeze her flute.
"Oh Rania, why didn't you visit Lordlake sooner?" the raven-haired lady deplored with a soft sigh. "At least this is a good chance to learn some new sounds."
Jeane, glancing over to the lovely lesbian triplings and long lines started by the illustrious leader Lady Rovere, lost it to the thick, bulging manhood bouncing into her line of sight. She licked her pretty lips and called back to Sialeeds, "Tee-hee, back to back! It's like we're partners in the field of battle. For sex!"
Groaning, Sialeeds rubbed her aching breasts as a burly, muscled man took hold and hoisted her into the air. Suspended, strong hands gripping her at her thighs as her feet dangled freely, she passed her eye-hiding brown hair behind her shoulder as she got a better look at the runemistress lifted and turned to face her in the exact same manner.
A pair of buxom beauties, their bodies rippled with lust, shaky muscles and hungry, watering loins eager for the thrill of the sexual hunt. Powered by the will of the Charm Rune, Sialeeds challenged, "If it's a contest you want, it's a contest you'll get. Whoever fucks the most men by the end of the night gets the title of Falena Floozy."
"Tee-hee, you're on," Jeane answered.
"OOOH!" the royal cried to her first catch of the night plowing through her wetness. Her pussy suckled on the towering shaft in want, as the man pumped her against his rough, sandy length.
Over on the queen's throne, a very different cry escaped Arshtat's lips.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Arshtat spat, glaring down at Lordlake's leading noble.
"My Queen, this must be some mistake," Lord Rovere insisted. "We're both married to people we love. To act as you're suggesting... it would go against our vows. Think of your husband, and your children. We can't-"
Arshtat, Sun Rune blazing, shouted, "If I wanted to fuck my husband, I would fuck my husband. As your god queen, I deserve control over your sex life, and I've decided your overprivileged wife deserves to eat pussy while I enjoy parts of you she'll never have. Now come here and fill me before I lose my patience."
The noble lord gauged his queen's countenance. Arshtat's skin ruffled like the upraised feathers of a vicious phoenix, her beak set to snap through her aggressors with the raw, unbridled power of her true rune. Already, the heat waving off her frail yet supple shell of a body burned like a raging oven, threatening to burst and shoot its flames across the whole of Falena. Sighing, he risked a few steps closer to his queen, stepping through her oppressive aura of rage as it shrank with his advance.
When he at last stood before the queen, reaching for the clasp of his belt, he froze up as his pants burned to cinders in the blink of an eye and the great queen tugged him into her by the length of his red dress shirt. Her rough lips locking against his, brushing over his mustache as her tongue squirmed and tussled within his mouth, almost distracted him from the queen's forceful push of his manhood into her sopping royal snatch.
Arshtat parted her lips from her chosen first mate with an arching, debauched smile and glassy, half-lidded eyes as her linking saliva broke at the gap between them. She looked to the man's wife.
"Lady Rovere, your husband's size is impressive. You must be a very proud woman to know you can go home and tell your closest friends that your husband had the chance to sate your queen while you ate out Marscal Godwin's former consort."
The subdued shame and outrage no doubt flooding Lady Rovere spiked Arshtat's overflowing chest with delight, the kind that set her guiding Lord Rovere's hands to squeeze them for her pleasure. She rolled her head to the other side, glancing at another of her subjects. "Haswar, have you been behaving yourself like a good little girl?"
"Y-yes my queen," Haswar said.
Poor Haswar, disgraced by her new status decreed by the queen, sat with her legs splayed for the will of the people. Her fingers inched toward her starving pussy, halting at the border of her silver trim. She knew the punishment for one so young indulging in base desires. Biting her lips, she looked up from her shrine to an unexpected tribute to the Oracle of Lunas.
Fresh, holy white cum splattered across her face. The gooey seed spread with each spurt, slowly dribbling down her forehead and into her eyes. Wiping the mess from her lids, she blinked, gazing across the circled worshippers and their straining forms. Each one, their hands pistoning along their shafts, shook with the threat of an oncoming storm, their groans ripping like thunder in her ears. Then came the rain.
Pelts of manspunk poured from inches above her head. Warm, thick, fertile, the first load dripped off her chin to join the newest layers painting her soft, pale skin. She rubbed their ivory gifts like an oil into her robust, mature breasts, the sole sexy spot she had permission to touch. Pinching her nipples, she exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! Look how big I've gotten!"
Meanwhile, the Queen's Maid snorted hotly through the forest of black pubes surrounding her nose. Alenia's shrunk pupils never stopped glaring at the base of the member she wrapped with her lips, even when one man slipped out of her double duty hands and another replaced him down the line. Her jaw ached. Her palm twitched. Sweat ran as a river down legs shaky from her awkward squatting pose.
Then, her eyes went wide as she felt a blast to the back of her throat. The warm cock in her mouth spasmed, spunk oozing inside and sinking into the pit of Alenia's stomach. Its potent taste saturated her tongue, and as he pulled out, she swallowed, coughed and bitched as she glared up at him. "How dare you cum in my mouth! You were supposed to go unload that filth on one of the other whores in this room."
"You're a maid, it's your job to know when I'm about to cum," the man suggested. "It's not my fault you're too stupid to feel the signs or too skanky to want to stop."
As a final insult, the man took his fading erection and smacked the Queen's Maid square across her cheek.
The red mark left by his assault stung with the indignity of a crude, common strumpet put in her place. Following his journey with her gaze, she shouted after, "Hey, you bastard! If you tried that to me any other time, I would have whipped out my sword and sliced off your d- MMPH!"
Mid-complaint, a fresh member set a silencing order on her verbal rampage. Gagged, she returned to the task at hand, staring at the manhood demanding satisfaction from her mouth.
Despite his waning stiffness, the freshly released man walked to the theme park line for Sialeeds and Jeane. He leaned over, watching and listening to their banter from a distance.
"Tee-hee, you look tired," Jeane said. "Are you ready to admit you don't have the endurance to outlast me?"
"Never..." Sialeeds panted. In a strange quirk of timing, she bounced on her newest man's dick in synch with Jeane. "I only need two more to catch up with you."
"Two more will feel like a lot when I've bagged fifty."
Jeane, her pink ponytail rubbing in her mate's face, grinned to the hot moans popping from Sialeeds' mouth. Over endless centuries, the runemistress cycled through men as often as she changed clothes. Every warring army she joined had a fresh host of men for her to sample, from the high seas to the plains of Harmonia. As Lordlake's men used her, her pussy warmed ever so slightly, feeble tingles of pleasure hardly comparing to the amused giggle and misty moistness brought on by watching the amateur royal try and fail to live up to her sex standards.
Sialeeds huffed. Her heart pounded the wall of her chest, dancing to the tune of her mate every bit as splendidly as her aching, wanting loins. Her lower lips, sucking on his thick, mighty straw, pulsed heat beaten only by the presiding Falenan empress' great runely power.
"Ooooh..." she wailed, her siren song of sex dragging men to her side. Her hands sidled downward, toward the groaning cocks of her waiting men, wrapping firmly upon their girth. Kicking up one of her free feet, she dared an underhanded trick unseen even in the wild Grasslands: she pinched one of Jeane's nipples with her toes.
"Mmm..." Jeane sniffled. She arched into the cheat's invading digits, as they waged war on her hot pink tips. A mashing heel-massage of her luscious mounds by the royal had Jeane gasping for breath, a twitch in her sex tugging on the shaft inside her. "You're cheating."
"I... I'm not going to lose... to a hussy like you!" Sialeeds bellowed. "I'm part of the royal family. It would be wrong if I lost to a commoner."
Slender, dual-pumping hands furiously pounded what lay in Sialeeds' clutches. Perspiring rivulets rose on her brow, merely one of the many droplets soaking her proud royal chest. Fair, sleek arms wrestled their strength into speed, as Sialeeds' calves sharply jerked the runemistress' nipples in a bid to spike her body with intoxicating pleasure.
Parlor tricks. Vain efforts from a novice in the art of slutdom. Jeane giggled to the desperate womanhandling to her tits, on the receiving end of a woman's confounded sexual wrath. Like a tornado of want, Sialeeds flurry-bounced upon the cock pulling in and out of her twat half as drenched as her head to toe physique. By now, basking in the wet heat of her own sweat, the royal could pass for self-cleaning the spunk escaping from Lordlake's men if they started coating her... and that's when Jeane had a wicked idea.
Payback.
Jeane smiled. "Your efforts to beat me are lacking. You need a trainer, and lucky for you I'm open! Here's your first lesson."
Through signals, a mishmash of gestures foreign to the minds of the untrained, pink magic sparkled and bubbled about their concentrated cove of hunks. As it passed, like a mountain mist, one change sounded the starting gun of a new phase in their tryst.
A moan. Loud, heavy, Sialeeds shivered as every pleasant nerve in her body burst at once. Her every sense lingered, from heat fanning across her flesh to the rough grind of her mates in her palms and past her loins. Even the smell, an aura of manly musk the likes of which she missed in even her nicest dalliances with Falenan nobles, overwhelmed her body beyond its limits.
"What have you done to me?" demanded Sialeeds, between her moans.
"Tee-hee, you were turning out all wrong!" Jeane stated. "You don't become a high-class hooker from taking shortcuts and faking orgasms, you get there by letting yourself go. You have to feel that burn between your legs!"
She knew it now. Mini-bombs of ecstacy, unfathomed in her chaste life within the ivory castle, exploded in spots she never thought could feel the wonders and joys of sex. Stream of cum rushed from cocktips at all angles to paint her lips, lips she smacked and licked to savor their succulent potence. A white river ran down her chest, into the nestled valley of former cleavage exposed by the loss of her fine royal garb. Running fingers in her illusory chestnut pubes, she imagined the process she'd run of plastering her pussy with dye to dispel curiosity that would arise from natural shimmering kinks.
Then, a new wet thrill squeezed her tits. Its strangeness, the newfound power pulsing from her tits to guide her actions by needy impulse, escaped her as she obeyed their commands and stretched herself over the gap between herself and the runemistress. With more force than she'd ever known herself to grant, she pressed her lips against Jeane's and smeared her cum lipstick about her opponent's mouth. Horny, she busily kissed down Jeane's chin, dipping into her bust and suckling upon a soft teat.
Unlike a normal woman, wracked with such fawning, Jeane expressed her building lust with a giggle. "Tee-hee, I think we know who won this round."
Lady Rovere scowled, as she heard the two ladies rut with their processions of her town's men. Thoughts, angry thoughts, scornful thoughts, sank into her mind as these events unfolded around her. Moans and groans, symbols of wanton and depraved carnality, imprinted themselves in her memory, along with the offensively nectarine smell and taste of the pussy she'd been lapping at for what felt an eternity. If it came to her on a dish in a fancy restaurant, she would have faithfully controlled a fervent enjoyment of the delicious meal. But with her face buried in the mound between Lucretia's legs, she fought back gags at the kind of woman she'd permitted to enjoy a side of her she always refused to her own husband.
Then the final insult splashed into her mouth. As warm feminine ejaculate shot from the tactician's loins, Lady Rovere pulled herself back in a disgusted rush, setting her face as the new target. It painted her rosy cheeks, and sank into her hair like a perfuming gel. Picking herself up and away from the spread, bow-legged Karayan harlot, Lady Rovere turned toward the throne and wiped her face.
Her needle-like glare toward the Queen wilted at the sight of her marriage betrayed by royal edict.
Lord Rovere, with his shirt unbuttoned and his legs left bare, plowed forth into the queen's dripping loins. The trail of Arshtat's cruel arousal had long since flowed down the throne's legs, and from a tidy puddle formed small waterfalls down the room's marble steps. So untamed was the queen, that Arshtat wrapped matronly arms around the small of Lord Rovere's back and slid them up to rub his muscled shoulders.
In this light, Lord Rovere was more than a man. He was a prize. A hulking figure of manliness, pouring every fibre of it into the most scandalous of affairs, sex with another woman... the once gentle and motherly queen no less.
That gentleness seemed a distant mirage to the messy, hotly moaning woman meant to rule from her gilded seat, with a bounty of bosom fondled feverishly by her first mate of the evening. The naughty offense initiated by her majesty continued unfettered by common decency, her legs moving to pin Lord Rovere into her clutches, droplets of sweat dripping off her chin, her hands wandering all about the man to touch and feel every private inch of his intimate frame.
Then, as if to remind the good Lady Rovere just how far she'd fallen in the court, Arshtat gazed over to her, and with one of the most devious smiles to her paint a woman's lips, said, "Your husband is a remarkable man. He's far too impressive for someone as selfish as you. I think, Lady Rovere, that it would be in your best interest to settle for eating pussy and let your husband roam free."
"Queen Arshtat! That's-" she impulsively disagreed, before catching herself. An enraged glint in the queen's eye threatened much more than a marriage.
"Yes?" Arshtat asked.
Lady Rovere swallowed and said, "... That's an excellent plan, my queen."
"Good," Arshtat answered. "Now that you know your place, I think you should tell Lordlake's women how it feels to eat out Lucretia while I finish with your husband."
And as the Lady Rovere began her story, the tale went on into a night of wanton sex.
----------------------
As morning sunlight filtered in through glassless windows, a collective groan went up from the throne room's remaining women.
Sialeeds lay defeated. Plastered. Spunked. Every inch of her screamed for air, air smothered by sheets of thick, creamy cum. Her nipples and thatches of brown pube peeked through clear stretches of her gooey cover, softly licked by the crouching tiger resting against her.
"Tee-hee," Jeane giggled upon lapping up a nice wet spot among the drying expanse. She pinched one of her pupil's teats, eliciting a much too tired grunt. "That was a wild night. Too bad you couldn't outlast me... I guess that makes me the Falena Floozy."
"Oooh... get off me," Sialeeds demanded.
Not one to ignore a request, Jeane slipped off the prone woman. With her sexy strut, she made her way piecemeal toward the throne, visiting upon her clients with due respect.
The next, the lady Lucretia Merces, snored in the nude, her arms spread as wide as her legs. Looking upon the tactician, with her fragile tan tits rising and falling on her chest, fan buried to its feathery tips inside her precious Karayan cove, Jeane mischievously smiled. "When you wake up, don't blame me. You brought this on yourself."
The runemistress fanned her hands over the sleeping beauty. Waving them along Lucretia's firm, toned belly and past the same undefined bust she admired so recently, Jeane hovered magic-sparking palms over her target. Rich, luxurious hair, mussed by her nightly sexcapades, tinted a vile green on her left bang. Her new touch of color stood out against her blonde backdrop, announcing her new status like a wanton badge of honor.
"There you are, Lady Merces. Wear it proudly."
Flowing across the room, Jeane glided from the passed out tactician to another royal. Her bosom spilled over the tub's porcelain edge, her nipples obscenely poking out at the tub's occupants. Smirking, she asked, "Wouldn't it be more appropriate for the princess to perform this task?"
"Don't be silly!" Haswar proclaimed. "She may be my elder now, but she's not old enough yet. Little girls need someone big and mature to bathe them, otherwise we might hurt ourselves."
Age was a strange thing in the laws of Falena, that much Jeane deduced as she admired the naughty bathtime before her. She dipped her hand in the tub's water, milky with the offage of Haswar's many late night worshippers. The cute little prince sat in the middle of this small pool, soaping the oracle's full, creamy abundance. Small teen fingers shifted to the pink buds on the end of Haswar's breasts, naively eliciting a moan from his aunt.
"Oooh... be careful. I'm very... sensitive... there," Haswar gently warned.
Amid this spectacle of family union, the age-demoted aunt smiling and giggling to her young nephew's mature washing of her body, the queen roused from her deep slumber.
Like a bear waking from wintry hibernation, the sloppy queen exhaled deep, eyes fluttering to the horrors of the morning after. Her first sight, her regal expanse, appalled her with the layers of sweat and spunk flowing and dripping off her rock hard nipples. As the blur to her eyes dispersed, she viewed her worst misdeed between her legs. A dried cum-blob sealed over her sore cunt, the deep stuffing she ordered of her womb laid bare. A web of sperm, strings linking crusted patches along her queenly flesh, shattered as she stirred on her throne.
"What... what have I done?" she lamented. Her golden crown rested heavy on her head, as she removed it and let it settle in her white-smeared lap. Gazing downward, rubbing her temples, she thought on recent events... and glared at the runemistress when she reached her verdict.
"Jeane," the queen glowered. "This is your doing. You could have done something to stop what happened last night."
"Me?" The bodacious runemistress questioned. Rising from Haswar's tubside, she sashayed toward the throne. "I had no control over your sister and cousin's actions. True Runes are too powerful to resist. What would you have done to me if I stopped you from indulging yourself?"
Arshtat paused to ponder. From every angle, she analyzed her actions when possessed by the Sun Rune's twisted, carnal desires, and reached the same answer at every turn.
Enlightened, she answered, "Very well. You have done your duty. Please return the Dawn and Twilight Runes to their busts."
With impeccable timing, the Lucretia shuddered and groaned, propping herself up on her elbows to look to the queen. "Queen Arshtat, you mustn't. If anyone in the Senate claimed any of the runes, they could-"
"I've made my decision," Arshtat briskly stated. "This was a mistake. I know better than anyone what one of these runes can do to a person's mind, and if the Dawn and Twilight Runes can bring Sialeeds or Haswar to start another succession war..."
The queen's trailing thought left a faint ominous tremor in the air.
Jeane filled that gap with a giggle. "Tee-hee, as you wish!"
The process went swiftly. Through gestures, the Twilight and Dawn runes lifted from Sialeeds and Haswar, floating about until they melded back into the statues they called home.
"It's done!" Jeane announced.
"Good," Arshtat said, before calling upon her Maid. "Alenia. Please escort Jeane from the castle."
"As you wish."
Unlike the rest of the chamber, Alenia had the proud distinction of cleanliness. From her illusory uniform to the coiffed perfection of her red hair, she stepped up to the runemistress and took lead to guide her from the decadent throne room. Halls of marble, carpets of red silk, they passed rows of pillars toward the castle gates. As they closed the distance, a lone figure, one man, awaited them.
Short blonde hair, parted to one side. Leather boots, climbing to his knees. A regal, tasseled shoulder pad, while the other shoulder bore his gold-trimmed black cloak. Pressing his sword against the ground with a white-gloved hand, he called out to the approaching pair.
"Runemistress. I see you've performed your assigned task to the letter," he said.
"Tee-hee, this is your proof of a job well done, Lord Gizel... and it gave me an excuse to walk around in the nude a little longer." A pink shimmer rippled over her, disguising her naked, spunk-laden self as a cleansed, bikinied babe.
"You could very well have faked that shabby look and conned me... but your overwhelming stench of sweat and sex is proof enough. You will receive full compensation by the afternoon." Gizel turned his attentions to the newly christened Queen's Maid. "Alenia, that uniform suits you. Perhaps you would care to give up your position in the Queen's Knights and take one cleaning my mansion."
"Oh, go to hell," Alenia barked. "Before you ask, I performed my part of the detail too. I have the nasty taste of cum in my mouth to prove it. Between Lucretia's new green hairs and the permanent effects of Boundless Aphrodisia on her body, the Godwins' vengeance toward her betrayal is complete."
"We'll only know for certain if we hear whispers from drunken bar fools about the king and queen's tan-skinned concubine, and tales of her uncouth ways," Gizel shifted his weight, as he brushed a wave of his hair from his eyes. "I trust the mad queen proved herself sufficiently debased for the people of Lordlake?"
Alenia reported, "Yes. You should have no difficulty mobilizing the people of Lordlake to betray the crown when the rest of their town hears of Arshtat's maniacal sexual fantasies and the injustices she wrought against Lord and Lady Rovere. That is, if the Queen doesn't come forward to apologize and explain what happened."
"Tee-hee, that's no problem," Jeane added, shuffling her wavy new mane, light sparkles drifting to her feet. "I left a little gift with Queen Arshtat. Any time she tries to explain herself or undo the orders she gave last night, the Sun Rune will act up. You can look forward to Sialeeds sleeping around and Haswar behaving herself like a good little girl for a long, long time."
At the mention of the two unfortunate royals, Alenia wickedly grinned. Her loins, left unused throughout the night, lit its fires of arousal anew. If not for the rigorous Knight training of her father, she might have dropped to her knees and offered to suck Gizel's cock in thanks for the gift of seeing the shamed royals taken so low by the queen.
Instead, she said, "Gizel... weren't you going to marry Sialeeds at one time?"
Before Alenia could even reach the next phase, Gizel sensed the true question behind the one she asked. "Did you really think I ever loved her? She's a pawn. She decided her fate when she accepted her sister's plan not to marry. I'll pursue the next spoiled little princess when Lymsleia has her Sacred Games. Anything else to report?"
"No, sir," Alenia said.
"Then you are dismissed."
Bowing, the flame-haired Knight turned Maid opened the castle doors and exited... unaware of her filthy decorum. For while Alenia saw the illusion of herself as a cleanly maid, embarrassing as that was, she bore a much more perverse display to Sol-Falena. Reaching the other side of the bridge, she entered the market naked, dripping everywhere from her creamed up face to the unseen crevice of her armpits.
Jeane giggled to her employer. "Tee-hee, how long do you think it will take her to realize everyone else sees her in the buff?"
Gizel looked to the runemistress. "Frankly, I expect to see her walking around naked and unwashed for the next month if your illusion remains. Now then, let us talk about another mission I have for you in Doraat."
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