Kingdoms: Amazonia – Part 3
FF, anal, BDSM, FFF,
Brittany Daniel, Cynthia Daniel, Alexis Bledel, Anna Popplewell, Roseanne Barr, Marcia Cross, Lyndsy Fonesca, Katee Sackhoff, Teri Hatcher, Sarah Chalke, Amy Acker, Amanda Bynes, Charisma Carpenter, Kate Beckinsale
This is a work of fiction, obviously there is no such place as Amazonia and the celebs doing nasty things in this story probably aren’t doing them in real life, though for all I know they may be having lots of lesbian sex with each other.
The crowd roared with approval. In the ring
the black wrestler had got the blonde in a headlock and was banging a fist into her face. Anna Barr, nee Popplewell, could hear the blonde’s yelps even above the crowd’s bloodlust. She and Roseanne Barr were in such good seats, she could almost hear the crunch of the knuckles hitting skull. Suddenly the referee stepped in, she held up a blue coloured strap-on, it was the black’s toy. The crowds were on their feet cheering as the black woman let go off her defeated opponent and raised her hands in triumph.
“Fuck her up the ass,” Roseanne stood and shouted at the winner as the dildo was ceremonially handed over.
Anna managed a wan smile. They had wrestling in the provinces, but it was all amateurs and looser normally the participants didn’t get nearly as badly knocked about. Roseanne sat down, her face aglow. It wasn’t only the excitement, but that she owned a large portion of the black wrestler – the winnings would amount to several hundred sovereigns.
One of the Queen’s messengers stepped into the box and handed Roseanne a couple of letters. The woman tore them open, read them and nodded an acknowledgement to the messenger. She waited until the child had walked away before leaning over to Anna, “The Queen’s invited us to a dance.”
“Oh,” said Anna.
Roseanne lent forward again, “And after she wants you sent to her room so she can fuck you.”
“Oh,” repeated Anna, anything else would have seemed superfluous.
In the ring the black woman slammed her dildo up the loser’s ass.
“Katee Sackhoff to see you Ma’am” the maid announced.
Marcia Cross looked up. There was a bump on the floor. Take aback by her Mama’s momentary lack of concentration Penelope had fallen onto the floor. It was a shame she had been toddling so well. A bottom lip stuck out, a precursor to tears. Right on cue the small child started to bawl. Lyndsy Cross, nee Fonesca, put down her embroidery and stood up, “I’ll take her into the garden,” she leant down and picked up her daughter.
Marcia turned back to the maid, “I’ll see her here.”
A few moments later Katee entered the room. She gave a small bow, “My lady.”
Marcia waved for her to sit down. Katee unbuckled her sword and took a seat in one of the many comfortable seats. Her eyes flicked to the wine, but Marcia didn’t offer her any – Katee had skills that Marcia used, it wasn’t a social call.
“I spoke to the Lady Barr a few nights back. She was grateful for your intervention,” Marcia said.
Katee bowed her head in acknowledgement, “The pleasure was all mine.”
“She also passed on a message if she sees you sniffing round her wife, she’ll have your neck wrung.”
Katee gave a wide smile, “Scared of the competition?”
Marcia looked at her employee. Katee was one of the best swordswoman that she knew, however a side effect of her grace with the sword was a willingness to get into trouble. And there were enough problems without Roseanne wanting to have one of her best agents hung from the gibbets, “Just leave her alone.”
“As you say my lady,” there was the mocking smile that Marcia had expected.
The redhead sighed and wondered why she tolerated Katee insolence. The answer was that the blonde was good at what she did and in these troubled times Marcia needed people like that. She gave another sigh, there was business at hand, “Weapons are still being smuggled in through the docks. My agents suggest the Cat doesn’t know a thing about it – which is worrying in itself. I don’t want her finding out first – anything which has been hidden once can be hidden again and will be once the Cat takes her cut.”
“Why don’t we just bring her in?” Katee asked.
“High politics,” replied Marcia. She didn’t expand on the comment. She reached over and passed Katee a parchment, “It’s a description of the woman Cat’s people are looking for.
“A woman with a scar, it’s not very descriptive is it?”
“No,” Marcia stood up, signifying the conversation was at an end, “but it’s all we’ve got. You’ll keep me informed?”
Katee smirked, “Of course.”
Marcia sighed. She knew the young woman was lying. Katee was a lone wolf, which had its uses, but it meant that often the first thin Marcia knew about her doings was when she had to clean them up. She nodded to Katee, a sign of dismissal, “The maid will show you out.”
Katee bowed again and followed the maid to the front door. Marcia watched her leave, troubling times… She gave another sigh and walked out into the garden.
Penelope had stopped crying and was sitting in front of a rose bush, burbling happily and trying to catch a butterfly. Lyndsy stood watching over her. Marcia walked over and slid her arms round her wife’s front. She rested her head on Lyndsy’s shoulder, Penelope giggled as the butterfly landed on her foot.
“Do you think she would like a sister?” Marcia murmured.
There was a brief pause, Lyndsy hands slid down to cover Marcia’s “I very much think she would.”
The Daniel’s twins had been following the Cat’s instructions for the past week and a bit. There was no sign of Julia, who wasn’t in any of her normal haunts, even her whores hadn’t seen her, which was strange as she usually collected her percentage without fail. There was even less sign of the scarred woman, she remained as mysterious as when they’d started out. However, they had discovered they weren’t the only ones looking for them – half the freelancers in the city seemed to have been sent out by Cat, as well as her own women. And the Queen’s Guard was also showing an undue amount of interest in the killing of a watchkeeper – they normally left that type of thing to the city authorities.
After ten days and going nowhere fast they decided they needed a break. And where better to unwind than one of the local bordellos. Cynthia stuck her leg out of the bath tub and poked Charisma Carpenter with her toe, “More wine!” she demanded and held up her goblet.
Her sister’s head exploded from beneath the bubbles, gasping for air and laughing. She reached for her goblet, “Me as well.”
Charisma refilled the glasses, before striking an erotic looking pose.
“Damn, she’s hot,” grinned Brittany and chinked her goblet against her sister’s.
“What did I say? I told you I’d hire us a right little minx,” Cynthia returned the toast.
“And I never doubted you for a second,” Brittany drained her goblet. She dropped it to the floor and let it roll away, “Come here you little slut.”
Charisma did as ordered, her naked body glistening in the late afternoon sunshine. She was definitely fuckable thought Brittany as she stood up and stepped out of the bath. She clasped Charisma close to her and gripped the young woman’s ass cheeks, nice and firm. The hooker giggled as Brittany swivelled her upper body so their tits rubbed together. There was a splashing sound and Cynthia hopped out of the bath, “How do you want to play it – one at a time or both together?”
The question was directed at Brittany, Charisma had been paid enough to agree to whatever they said. The twin considered briefly, it didn’t take long to decide and she grinned at her sister, “It’s a while since we’ve done two’s up, let’s do that,” she turned to face Charisma, “You up for a little DP?”
“Goddess, yes,” replied Charisma enthusiastically. She might be quaking at the thought of it, thought Brittany, but that excited reply was professionalism for you. She moved away from Charisma and deftly caught the strap-on her sister threw her.
There was a giggle from Charisma as she looked at the two tooled up twins, “Like peas in a pod,” she said.
It was true the only way to tell them apart was that Cynthia’s strap-on was black, whilst Brittany’s was more flesh coloured. The two twins grinned at each other, as one they stepped either side of Charisma and taking a tittie each began to gorge themselves on it. Two hands slid down and began to rub the hookers smooth slit. They were both still wet and it didn’t take long for Charisma to start dampening their fingers further. The brunette gave little squeals of enjoyment as first one of the Daniel’s and then the other dipped a finger into the hole and tickled around.
Brittany let go off the tit and twisted herself behind Charisma. She lowered herself down until her mouth was aligned with the young woman’s asshole. She began to tongue, enjoying the sudden gasp of ‘oh’ from Charisma as her tongue started to lick at the puckered flesh. She could see her sister had dropped down on her knees at the front and was licking at the cunt. It was easier to get the tongue in the hookers slit, off course, by the rules it also meant that was where Cynthia had to stick her toy. Brittany grinned, her quick move to the licking stage had outfoxed her sister and meant she got their favourite hole. Still she needed to get a bit move leverage than her tongue could manage, drawing back her head she pushed in a finger. There was a definite squeal from Charisma this time, “Yesss,” gasped the hooker.
She was probably faking, thought Brittany, but what the hell. She pushed her finger in a bit deeper and moved it around. Charisma was gasping, her entire body shuddering, Brittany winked at her sister, “Think she’s ready?”
Cynthia gave one final lap, “I know I am.”
Both twins stood up. Brittany moved first, she firmly grabbed hold of Charisma’s waist and started to push the dildo into her ass. The prostitute gave a little squeal of enjoyment as Brittany slowly thrust forward, even with her initial working on the hole it was a snug fit – though she, and from the sounds of it, Charisma were enjoying the effort. Eventually it was fully in, her titties pushed deep against the brunettes back. She let go off Charisma’s waist and without warning kicked away her ankles.
There was a shriek of terror from the hooker, which turned into a sigh of relief as Brittany caught her under thighs and kept her in position, “Wrap your legs round my sister as she goes in,” she instructed, “It’s nice and safe, we won’t drop you.”
“O…Okay,” replied Charisma. There was no doubt about it, this girl was a professional. Cynthia slid her cock into the hooker’s damp hole, Charisma’s legs wrapping tightly round her. Brittany grinned and waited for her sister to start the pounding, Cynthia would do most of the work, Brittany would concentrate on holding onto the hooker, and if she could manage a few thrust so much the better.
Her sister began to pump forward energetically, driving her dildo deep into Charisma’s slot. The force slammed Charisma back, Brittany’s dildo going deep into the brunette’s ass chute and also ramming itself against Brittany’s pussy. The three women groaned in a pleasurable unison, sweat from one seeping onto the others and mixing with the pussy juice they were all liberally producing.
“Ohhhhh Goddddesssss, I’m cumming,” someone shrieked. It could have been Charisma, it could have been Cynthia, Brittany wasn’t sure. All she was aware of were the explosive feelings rippling through her own body, blowing her mind Perspiration was dripping from her body, getting in her eyes and coating her lips with its salty taste. In front of her, being pummelled by two cocks, Charisma had become a rag-doll of screaming lust. Brittany gently let go off the teen’s legs, gripping her waist to keep her in place and began to match her sister’s rhythm. The two dildos banging in and out in a speedy pattern, battering Charisma between them. Brittany could feel herself cumming, a rhapsody of feelings rending her body like she was struck by lighting. She screamed in pleasure.
Afterwards she and Cynthia dressed, leaving Charisma recovering on the bed, a pouch of coins beside her. Brittany opened the door and walked into the expensively, if hideously decorated hallway. Nude pictures and statues were everywhere, showing women copulating in various positions, many of them difficult in the extreme. A hooker and her client tittered at the top of the staircase. The Daniel’s paused to let her pass and then descended.
That was when they saw her. The scarred woman had just entered the front door. She must have recognised them as she swore and headed back out. Brittany drew her sword and bounded down after her, Cynthia following.
In the street they could see their target running. The crowds, which normally thronged the city, were emptying as the shops closed. It made it easy to follow the woman. The twins may have exerted themselves, but they were fit, made fitter by the knowledge that if the Cat discovered they’d found the woman and let her slip through their fingers they’d be missing the digits in short order. Amy Acker turned a corner into an alleyway, Brittany grinned, she knew that alley was a dead end – the only thing it led to was a wall and the river beyond. She turned the corner, followed by her sister.
Just in time to see Amy hoisting herself up the wall. For a second she looked at them, before diving head first into the river. There was a splash. By the time Brittany and Cynthia had hauled themselves up there was no sign of their target.
“I think we shouldn’t mention this to the Cat,” said Cynthia.
Brittany nodded her head, “Agreed.”
It had been an almost perfect ambush. True, Roseanne Barr would have preferred some of the traitors to have survived to be questioned, but they have fought against her women with the desperation of those who’s only future is the gallows, and that by the indirect route via the torture chambers. She stepped over the nearest corpse, a sword cut had cleaved what would have been a pretty face and a thrust from a spear had left the traitor’s guts pooling beneath her.
A horse rode up and Marcia Cross dismounted, “What happened?” she barked.
Roseanne ignored her, a way of reminding Marcia that she was not her underling, and bent down over a second corpse. She snapped a silver necklace from the dead traitor’s neck and let the chain play through her fingers. Standing up she dropped the chain in a pool of blood with a gesture of contempt. Only then did she turn to the visibly fuming Marcia.
“One of my excise agents spotted a shifty looking group of brigands. They came to me. I brought my guards. They didn’t like being challenged…” Roseanne shrugged and waved her hand round indicating the half dozen corpses.
“I assume if you sent a messenger for me they’re not just smugglers or Cat’s women?” Marcia asked.
“Could be one, could be the other or both or neither,” Roseanne enjoyed the enigmatic reply impact on Marcia, who gave a snarl and actually stamped an expensive boot like she was a little child. Roseanne was tempted to tease the upstart some more, but they were servants of the Queen and unfortunately that meant they were on the same side. She beckoned at the Captain and led her to a wooden box, poles for easy carrying through it side. One of her women stood guard by it, Roseanne nodded at her, “Open it.”
The guard did so and Roseanne stood aside to let Marcia peer in. The redhead muttered an oath, “There’s enough to equip an army.”
Roseanne shrugged, “Only a small one,” she grinned. That was true, but a bit of false humility reminded Marcia that Roseanne’s women had stopped more than the Marcia’s Guard had managed. It was so much fun rubbing the redhead’s nose in the dirt that Roseanne was going to relive this day again and again in her memory.
Marcia snorted, “I’ll get my guards to come and pick it up. We’ll take it to the armoury and count it.”
“No bother,” Roseanne smiled, “My women will take it there.” She wanted everyone to see who had brought the weapons in, if it had been the guard Marcia would soon be putting rumours round it was her plan. Any credit was going to go to Roseanne and her alone.
“Fine,” Marcia marched back to her horse, she had been outmanoeuvred and the best bit was she knew it.
There was on good thing about being married to Roseanne, Anna Barr, nee Popplewell, thought, the woman wasn’t stingy with her money. She wanted Anna looking her best for the Queen and after sniffingly going through her wife’s wardrobe had sent her out with a packed purse to buy a new dress. The purse was so heavy it would have fed a peasant family for a year, and fed them so well they’d have doubled in weight by the end of it.
The shopkeeper was obsequiesness itself. First on discovering Anna was one of the aristocracy, second on discovering the dress was for the Queen’s party, third, and mainly, on seeing the bulging purse. Anna ignored the woman’s cries of rapture as she waxed about how the dress was just right for such a pretty young lady. They were almost certainly feigned. She looked in the mirror, and gave a frown – perhaps it was the right dress – it showed enough cleavage to tantalise, but not fulfil, though she expected her wife would adjust it downwards and it flowed over her body like winter snow.
“Try it in blue – it’ll bring out your eyes,” the voice came from the doorway, half recognised by Anna. She turned as the shopkeeper tutted her disapproval of the newcomers dress sense.
Katee Sackhoff was leaning on the doorframe, her smile small, but warm. She gave a brief nod of her head, “Lady Anna – we meet again.”
Anna gave a curtsey, allowing her eyes to run over the attractive body of the rogue. Even beneath her loose trousers and blouse, Anna could see the firmness of the muscles and the tautness of Katee’s stomach – if there was any spare fat on her it was on her tits, which bounced lightly against the blouse as Katee pushed herself up from the doorframe.
“In pleasanter circumstances,” Anna replied, she gave a beaming smile at her rescuer, before turning to the shopkeeper, “Bring it me in blue.”
The shopkeeper hurried to comply. Anna stepped nearer Katee, the woman was wearing an expensive perfume. Anna inwardly gulped, the scent combined with Katee’s ravishing good looks would give her dreams tonight she knew, “How did you know I was here?” she didn’t want to sound accusing merely curious, she wasn’t sure she succeeded.
Katee shrugged, “No special powers I’m afraid – I just saw you through the door and thought I’d say hello,” she smiled and the smile suggested that it wasn’t just a friendly greeting that she had on her mind.
“Ma’am” the shopkeeper returned with a blue version of the dress she was wearing. Anna scooped it up, part of her wanted to flee into the dressing room to escape the powerful sexual magnetism she was feeling for Katee, another part of her wanted to bask in it. She compromised and loitered for a few seconds longer than she needed to before saying, “I need to change.”
“I could come in and help,” Katee flashed her white teeth in the most charming smile.
If Anna hadn’t been brought up to see self-discipline as the one of the great virtues of a bottom she had screamed ‘Yes’ and damned the consequences. Instead she forced herself to smile and pretend the other had said nothing of importance, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She fled into the changing room and only when she closed the woollen curtain did she realise she was shaking. Damn Roseanne, damn marriage, damn convention, thought Anna as she stripped, if it wasn’t for those three things she could have swooned into Katee’s arms and let the charmer sweep her away. But, unfortunately she was married to Roseanne and she was conventional enough to accept her fate. Still, she left the knot under her cleavage less tightly tied than before and plumped up her titties before stepping out.
Katee was still there waiting for her, “Much better,” she whistled.
Anna blushed, and turned to the shopkeeper, “I’ll take it.”
The shopkeeper let out another squeal of excitement, though perhaps given the price of the dress this one was less feigned.
“Good choice,” Katee’s voice virtually purred seduction and Anna felt a flutter in her stomach.
She forced it down, Roseanne had made clear that she wasn’t to see Katee, “Thank you. I must go – it was nice to see you again.” Anna returned to the fitting room to disrobe and put on her previous clothes.
When she got out Katee was still there, still holding up the doorframe. Anna could almost feel the woman’s eye’s boring into her, “You look fine in that as well,” Katee’s voice was soft, warm and sexy.
Anna felt herself going red, she mumbled a thanks and turned away from Katee. Opening her purse she slowly counted out the coins. The shopkeeper almost knocked her head against her knees she bowed her head so far down. Anna ignored her and turned to go. Katee hadn’t moved, she remained blocking the doorway, “Come on a picnic with me?”
“My wife was quite clear that I shouldn’t be seeing you again,” it sounded prim to Anna and she mentally cursed.
Luckily Katee didn’t seem to mind, instead she smiled, “A picnic won’t do any harm – a day in the country will freshen you up.”
She was right, thought Anna. It wasn’t like she would allow Katee any liberties and Roseanne surely wouldn’t mind her taking a stroll with someone who, after all, had saved her from rape and death. A little voice told her that Roseanne’s instructions had been clear. She quieted it, “A picnic would be nice. But nothing else is on offer.”
Katee stepped away from the door, “On my honour. What about Friday?”
“Friday’s good,” Anna replied and stepped into the street. She didn’t look back as she hurried away, but her stomach churned and her mind did somersaults.
It was mid-summer outside, but none of the clammy heat seemed to penetrate the room. Nor did any sunlight, the only illumination was a spluttering candle. Amy Acker shivered and stood nearer it, the candle also provided a tiny, minuscule amount of warmth. Kate Beckinsdale didn’t seem to need either the warmth or light, the candle was a courtesy to allow Amy to see the parchment her boss had handed her.
Kate sat as still as a statue in the shadows as Amy digested the contents. It didn’t take long – it was a short document. Amy passed it back, Kate’s pale fingers clamped around the paper and slid it back beneath her cloak. Amy waited for her to speak. Kate remained silent so long that Amy began to feel herself trembling, eventually she could no longer stand the silence. She hoped Kate didn’t mind her speaking first, “It’s not a very good description.”
Kate blinked, she didn’t look like a serpent, but the way her eyelids closed reminded Amy of a deadly snake. She shivered violently, if she was lucky Kate might think it was the cold. The other woman gave a smile, it was thin, lacking any humanity, “It is not a good description, but it is recognisably you.”
“How did you get the note? It’s got the Queen’s seal,” Amy knew that a parchment like this would have only been given to the Queen’s servants, the guards, the custom and excise women, the secret agents. It wasn’t something you would just pick up in the Tavern.
“I have other servants,” Kate didn’t elaborate, instead she lent forward, “You were lucky to get away from the Cat’s women, but it was careless to allow them to live.”
Amy felt her breath stop. Kate looked directly into her eyes, Amy could see her reflection in the darks orbs. She tensed and waited for the killing blow. It didn’t come Kate sat back and Amy exhaled loudly. The other woman’s lip curved upwards – this time it wasn’t a snake that Amy was reminded of, but a foul, mad wolf.
“Still they didn’t follow you,” Kate continued, “or else you wouldn’t be here.” It was a definite threat, not that Amy needed one to feel terrified of her mistress.
“It won’t happen again,” Amy bowed her head.
“No, it won’t” agreed Kate. She changed tack suddenly, “The customs ambushed some of your smugglers.”
“Yes,” Amy saw no point in denying the lost weapons shipment.
“Do not underestimate Roseanne. She may be fat and look stupid, but she’s not. The woman is cunning and ruthless,” Kate’s hand reached out and snuffed out the candle. The room went dark suddenly and Amy suppressed the urge to scream. Kate’s voice came out of the darkness, “I may have to put a few obstacles in her way.”
“My lady,” agreed Amy, though she wasn’t sure what obstacles Kate meant, “And Marcia? She’s more dangerous still.”
Kate’s voice came from elsewhere in the room, though Amy hadn’t heard her move, “I already have the measure of Lady Cross. She will not hinder us, hard though she may try.”
The dance was in full swing. Serving girls dodged the whirling aristocrats as they twisted round their partners, more or less, in time with the viols, fiddles and flutes of the entertainers. There was a yell from one of the more excitable dancers as her partner grasped her waist and twirled her so energetically that her feet left the floor. Anna Popplewell felt a stab of jealousy, she had always enjoyed dancing and would have loved to be up there. But there was food on the table and wine piled on the table, and Roseanne showed a determined unwillingness to move whilst there was still some untouched. And it was clear from her tone when Anna had suggested they get up that Anna would only be dancing with her wife or the Queen. And of the Queen there was yet no sign.
“Lady Roseanne,” a young woman approached the table.
Anna had thought nothing could distract Roseanne from the chicken. She was wrong. Roseanne turned her head and so quickly jumped up that a drumstick rolled from her hands and hit the floor. The fat woman bowed and kissed the newcomers hand in deference as the young woman held it out, “Princess Amanda,” Roseanne returned the greeting.
Princess Amanda Bynes, niece of the Queen and heir to the throne, in turn nodded her head in a light bow, respect, not humility, before turning to Anna. The princess was young, in her early twenties and wearing a dress, which whilst expensive to the peasantry, seemed plain amidst the finery of the court. It still did her figure no harm and actually seemed to accent her charming smile, “And this must be the Lady Anna.”
Roseanne slipped an arm under Anna’s armpit and pulled her to her feet, “Princess Amanda, my wife Lady Anna Barr,” she belatedly introduced them as Anna curtsied.
“As pretty as I heard,” Amanda gave a smile at Anna before turning back to Roseanne, “I need to speak to you, but first would you allow me the honour of a dance with your devastatingly attractive wife.”
“It would be my honour, Princess,” Roseanne waved Anna towards the dance floor.
“Thank you,” said Anna to Amanda as the Princess slid her arm round the teen’s waist and guided her to the dance floor.
“You looked bored,” grinned Amanda. The musicians began to play a jaunty jig, Amanda slid her arm through the crook of Anna and the two women began to dance with the crowds of revellers. Across the floor she saw Lyndsy dancing with Marcia, Lyndsy broke momentarily to wave at Anna, before hooking her arm through Marcia’s. The redhead, who seemed to have being concentrating on the dance, looked up to see who Anna was waving at. Seeing Anna, she gave a small bow, whispered something to Lyndsy and left the dance floor. Lyndsy followed her, looking annoyed.
Amy Acker counted the last of the coins in the velvet bag. Satisfied she had the agreed price, she shut the chest and pushed it under her bed. It was expensive hiring the whores, but Amy’s tastes were unconventional and for that you had to pay extra. It was irritating the twins had seen her in the bordello, she liked to swap between the city’s cat houses and bumping into the twins had thrown off her hiring schedule. Still, even if it meant she had to go to one of the brothels she’d recently visited it was no big deal, bordello’s were discreet about their customers – they had to be.
There was a knock at the door. Amy looked in the mirror, trying to ignore the scar that disfigured her face. She still had a good body, the leather bikini pushed up her tits and if the bottom also covered her smooth slit it was a small price to pay for allowing a large strap-on dildo to hang from it. She went downstairs and opened the door.
She knew she recognised the blonde at once, though it took her a few seconds longer to work out from where, “You’re the whore I had a few days ago.”
Sarah Chalke smiled in greeting, “As ordered – one slutty blonde,” she lifted up the front of her skirt surreptitiously so that Amy could see her naked slit.
Amy scowled in irritation. She hadn’t expected the Madame to be so stupid as to send her the same girl twice, nor had she expected the hooker to turn-up even if ordered, given that she knew the beating she was going to receive. If you used the same whore regularly you built up a relationship and Amy used the prostitutes to relieve her lust, not because she was lonely and wanted someone to talk too. She scowled more deeply and for a second the smile on Sarah’s face faltered. Amy considered sending her back; but no, she was horny now and by the time a new whore arrived Amy would have had to leave to meet the smugglers at the docks.
“Come on in,” she ordered curtly, “Follow me… you know the drill,” she led Sarah down to the dungeon.
The blonde didn’t even need to be told to disrobe. Amy always enjoyed it when the whore’s showed reluctance, terror at seeing the ropes and racks. Sarah wasn’t at all reluctant, but to Amy surprise she put on a show – coquetishly stripping herself, Sarah turned and weaved with the material of the dress, her hands and the darkness hiding her titties and pussy until she was fully naked and Amy could examine her purchase. Amy’s face remained stern and unyielding, but inwardly her heart beat faster – there was something alluring about the way Sarah had teased her, which was even more sexy than the normal reluctance. Last time she hadn’t particularly looked at the blonde, but now she did – cute face, well-rounded tits, smooth thighs, a supple body. Someone Amy would never have a chance with unless she paid. By habit she reached up and rubbed her scar.
“Over here,” she reached over and dragged Sarah towards the ropes. Expertedly she looped them round the blonde, squeezing her tits so hard that they turned blue and pinioning her arms painfully round her back. Amy hoisted the blonde up and went over to get her whip. The hooker looked excited, that shocked Amy – normally they were snivelling for mercy even before the punishment had begun. Amy stood behind her and raised the whip – Sarah wiggled her bottom as if it was an invitation, the bruises and weals from last time had almost faded. Amy raised the whip, she’d do better this time and put the blonde off returning for life. She thrash her so hard no threat or enticement from her Madame would make her return.
The whip streaked down. Sarah screamed. Amy winced as the high pitched squeal reverberated round her dungeon. She whipped down again – Sarah screamed again. Amy paused, it wasn’t a normal scream of agony; indeed it sounded more like a squeal of excitement. Amy shrugged, she was imagining things – no-one liked being dominated and tortured. She brought down the whip – glorying in her power. It cracked like the sound of a breaking stone against Sarah’s ass. The hooker screamed again, “Harder, harder.”
Amy frowned – any doubt she had the whore was enjoying this were dispelled. It left her in a quandary – if she slowed down or stopped it would show she was in control, but it also lessened her enjoyment. But if she did as the whore asked then the power would subtlety shift. She shrugged – if the hooker wanted it harder and Amy wanted to beat her back and blue they were both winners. She brought down the whip again and again, pushing herself into a frenzy. Sarah screamed and yelled; however hard Amy brought it down the blonde wanted it harder and faster, until Amy was panting at the limit of her endurance.
She placed down the whip and poured herself a goblet of wine. Sarah’s ass was literally glowing red, pockmarked with bruises and weals. It was so bruised that the hooker would be lying on her front for a week. Amy drained the drink. The ass was so tender it would be agony for Sarah as she was sodomised. Amy smiled, she didn’t think the whore would enjoy it at all.
She rammed the dildo hard up Sarah’s back chute. The blonde squealed again, “Yessss, fuck me hard.”
For a second Amy thought about letting go and putting in the ball gag, stifling the hooker’s cries. But it had been a long time since anyone had even faked enjoyment with Amy and her curiosity was piqued. Anyway it made it easier to judge when the hooker was on the edge of cumming and pull-out to deny her that pleasure. She gripped the blonde’s ass cheeks, they were warm to the touch and began to thrust away. Sarah gasped and screamed and moaned with each hammering push. Amy found she enjoyed the sounds, to her surprise she felt her own slit juice up and long forgotten feelings of pleasure well up within her. She grunted and started to push harder. A drop of cum leaked from Sarah’s slit and dripped onto Amy’s foot. All it did was make Amy faster and harder. Sarah was screaming now, the precursor to an orgasm. Amy knew she should pull-out, whore bitches shouldn’t cum, but she couldn’t stop herself. All she could do was continue to punch away, lost in the moment as Sarah let out the most high pitched shriek Amy had ever heard in her life.
Pulling out Amy wiped the sweat from her brow. She smiled. That had been more fun than most times. Sarah was limp in the ropes breathing heavily. Amy walked over and poured herself another goblet of wine, then, as an afterthought, she brought out another goblet and filled it for Sarah. The blonde was probably hoarse after all her screams…
Anna curtsied at Princess Amanda, Amanda gave a brief bow in return. The dance over Anna returned to her wife, just in time to see Marcia depart. Roseanne scowled at Marcia’s departing back.
“What was that about?” asked Anna.
“Traitors,” grunted Roseanne, “There’s a rebellion growing in the Firth of Wolves and the Queen is intent on ignoring it,” she paused, “speaking of the Queen here’s one of her messengers.”
The child stopped in front of Roseanne and Anna, she didn’t bow or curtsey, instead she turned to Roseanne, “The Queen will see your wife now.”
Roseanne patted Anna’s ass cheek, “Off you go then.”
Anna dutifully followed the messenger. They left the hall and walked through passage after passage until Anna had lost all sense of direction. Eventually at the top of a spiral passageway the messenger stopped and gave Anna a lecherous smile as she rapped on a door.
“Come in,” ordered the Queen. The messenger opened the door and stood aside to let Anna enter. Queen Teri Hatcher was reclining on a chaise-lounge, her feet tucked up under her and a goblet of wine in her hand. She was wearing a see through negligee, under it Anna caught a glimpse of rock-hard, pink nipples and a shaven slit. The Queen looked at the messenger, “That will be all.”
The messenger gave a deep bow and departed closing the door behind her. Teri got to her feet, a trifle unsteadily and picked up a second goblet, which she handed to Anna, “Are you nervous, Lady Anna” she asked, “about being alone in my chambers?”
“N…n… no, your Majesty,” replied Anna.
The Queen smiled, “Drink up.”
Anna raised the goblet to her lips and sipped. The wine was strong, but tasty, obviously an imported vintage, though Anna’s palette was not seasoned enough to tell from where. She took another sip, the warm red wine excited her tastebuds. The Queen, meanwhile, had returned to her Chaise-Lounge. She patted a space beside her, “Come here little one.”
Anna did as she was instructed and sat down beside Teri. The Queen patted the teen’s leg, “Turn to face me.”
Once she had done so Teri reached forward. Her hands pushed away the material around Anna’s cleavage and under the material. Anna gave a small start as the Queen’s hands started to feel her titties. Teri squeezed at the nipples, twisting and pulling them, “What a nice plump pair,” she murmured and look at Anna expecting a reply.
“Thank you, your Majesty,” replied Anna. The Queen grinned and pulled her hands back to untie the knot in front of the dress. Without anything to hold them together the shards of material slipped away and Anna’s large breasts popped out.
Teri licked her lips, “They look yummy,” she said and slammed her head between them, shaking it vigorously.
“Thank you, your Majesty,” squeaked Anna. The Queen withdrew her head momentarily, only to return and latch her mouth onto one of Anna’s nipples. She bit and pulled at the nub, suckling nosily. Anna gave a groan as the Queen played with one tittie until it was so sensitive Anna was gasping in pleasure, then she moved onto the other and gave it the same treatment. Anna gave another little grunt of excitement as the Queen bit into the hard, rough flesh of the nipple. It was all rather enjoyable.
Teri sat back, a tiny spittle of saliva leaking from her mouth, she took hold of one of the flaps of the dress in her hand “I don’t think we need this anymore do we?”
“No, your Majesty,” replied Anna. She stood up and shimmied out of the dress, kicking across the floor and into the corner.
On the couch Teri spread her legs and pointed to her slit, “Get down there you tasty little slut,” she grinned.
Anna did as she was told, she lifted up the night gown and inhaled the sweet aroma of pussy juice. Slowly she bent over and dabbed with her tongue. The Queen let out a little squeak as the teen’s tongue touched her lips. Anna slowly eased it deeper in, swirling around the hole and feeling the juice slide onto her tongue. The Queen let out another series of squeaks and grabbing Anna’s head pushed her forward. Anna could take a hint and began to energetically lap, until she found the clit. She hammered against the bud, waves of liquid bubbling against her face.
“Yessss, yessss, that’s it, that’s the place,” shrieked Queen Teri. Her thighs pinioned Anna’s head in place and she let out a massive final scream. Cum jetted out of her slit like a geyser, it went down Anna’s throat, over her face and into her eyes before dripping down her naked body, leaving rivulets of liquid down her body. The Queen stood up, shakily, and patted the kneeling teen, “Lady Roseanne has picked well in getting such a cuntlicker as her wife.”
Anna nodded, secretly proud at making the Queen cum so explosively.
“And now to bed,” said the Queen. She helped Anna stand up and led the teen over to the large bed.
“Get on your hands and knees,” ordered Queen Teri. As Anna did so she looked round and saw the Queen pick up a large strap-on and slide it up her thighs. She smiled as she saw Anna looking, “I guess you’re not an anal virgin?”
“No, your majesty,” Anna shook her head slowly.
“Shame, never mind, I’ve nothing against experience,” Teri got onto the bed and shuffled forward on her knees until the tip of the cock was resting on Anna’s puckered hole.
Slowly the Queen eased in the toy. Anna gasped as the rubber ridges played within her. She shoved back, wanting to take its entire length. Her naked tits wobbled beneath her, scraping at the bedding as she dropped to her elbows. The Queen’s thigh’s hit her ass cheeks with a smack and Teri gave a groan of appreciation. She reached forward and gripped Anna’s waist as she began to lever herself in and out. Anna gasped as the cock probed deep within her, sending waves of indescribable pleasure crashing through her entire body. She could feel her twat juicing up and balancing on one elbow she moved the other hand so that she rub the juicy slit. Cum oozed through her fingers, liberally secreting as Teri slammed hard and fast down into her ass.
“Uuurrrghhhh, aaaarrghhhh, yesss, yesss, Goddess, yessss,” gasped Anna. Her ass was sore, but the explosive jolts she was getting more than made up for the minor pain. Teri slid against her, their bodies both encased with sweat, “Aaaarrrgghhh, oh my Goddessssss, yessss, I’mmmm cuuummming!”
The orgasm roared through Anna like a dragon, shredding her and sending her mind into overdrive. All she could do was shake and scream lustfully, no words would come.
Drained, Anna slumped forward onto the bed. There was a pop as the Queen pulled out the toy. Anna could hear the older woman struggling to get her breath back. Finally the Queen spoke, “Like that?”
“Yes,” replied Anna, “Very much, your Majesty.”
“Well you’re mine until dawn, so let me catch my second wind and we’ll do it again.”
Not for the first time Katee was glad of thick wooden doors between her and the guards outside. Alexis’s screams of passion when she came were louder than an opera singer. Katee continued to slam into the teen’s butt as the cries subsided to whimpers and she could feel her own orgasm building up. She thrust harder and faster and let out a cry of joy as she came.
Pulling out the strap-n she collapsed next to Alexis. Despite her weariness Katee had enough energy to pull the younger woman closer to her. Alexis spooned into her and rested her head on Katee’s tits. For a few minutes they lay in silence until Alexis shifted. Katee moved her head so that she could Alexis, the teen was looking straight at her, “What?” Katee asked.
“When can we move?” asked Alexis.
Katee sighed, “Soon – once all the pieces are in place and my boss says go.”
“When will that be?” Alexis pouted, she was nothing if persistent.
Katee struggled to sit up, “Soon,” she said tersely and reached for her pants, she wasn’t going to stay the night if Alexis was intent on badgering her.
If you have comments on this or any others of my stories please e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org