The Mercenary King (Valken & Sadia)

[Sadiah]

For days, the glittering capital of the Kingdom of Thiane had been tense as they waited. Watchers constantly manned the Seven Towers. The massive Welcome Gates had been shut along with the smaller gates – something that had never happened in the memory of anyone living. There were very few remaining tribes of free mercenaries, but King Hales had gathered them all, along with small armies from neighboring kingdoms. All the kings knew if the Mercenary King would never be satisfied with just one kingdom. He must be stopped, no matter what cost. The beautiful parks of the city were ruined by the camps of thousands of warriors. 1900 warriors from Thiane, though that included several hundred that were not fully trained. And some that were not trained at all. 2500 from the neighboring kingdoms. And only 900 mercenaries.



Only 900 mercenaries from the multitude of mercenary tribes that had fought for the kingdoms for generations. It was unthinkable. All the other mercenary tribes had united, and were even now plowing through the rich fertile lands of Thiane, plundering and making their way steadily to the capital city of Lare. Scouts streamed steadily into the palace, reporting on their progress. The stories were alarming ones. Not because of the damage, but the lack thereof. Oh, there were deaths. There was rape – and a lot of it. Plundering was a given – the massive army needed to be fed. But towns were not burned. Fields were not destroyed. The actions taken by the army were not the actions of destruction, but possession. Enough mercenaries were left in each town to maintain control, as the greater part of the army moved on. It terrified King Hales.



Finally in the third morning hour on the 13th​ day after the Mercenary army first set foot on Thiane soil, a scout staggered in, crying out that the army was less than two hours away. King Hales reminded himself that the thick high walls of Lare would be nearly impossible to breach. But his stomach still turned when he saw the massive army roll over a far hill as he stood on top of the wall. There were so many! Outside the walls three men waited on horses. Unarmored. Unarmed. Each flying the King's banner. They were diplomats, one of them his own cousin, sent to open negotiations. The sky was soft and pink with dawn when the diplomats spurred their horses forward to meet the army. The defenders on the wall watched as a figure from the army spurred forward towards the diplomats. Moments later, cries of outrage rang up and down the wall. King Hale leaned over the wall and vomited as his cousin's head rolled on the ground. There would be no negotiations with the barbarians.



As soon as the fight engaged, King Hales fled back to the palace, accompanied by his royal guard. The palace was in chaos, with servants and slaves running around in frantic terror. Nobles and their wives and children rushed into the Great Hall, clamoring for information and protection. King Hales raised his voice over the din, shouting to be heard.



"Fear not! They cannot breach the wall, and we have food aplenty for everyone! Women and children shall assemble in the Queen's Hall. Men will remain here."



The voices in the Hall went silent as he spoke, but as soon as he was finished the tumult exploded again as families cried, hugged each other, and separated. The Queen protested, refusing to leave her husband's side, terrified of being separated from him. Children wailed in terror, young women sobbed. Two members of the Kings Guard peeled off, moving deeper into the castle.

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

​

Amila lifted her head from the pillow, blearily staring at the door to her chambers. Who on earth would be knocking? Her mother certainly never did. None of the servants or slaves would, they would just quietly enter so as not to disturb her. There was a soft whisper of blankets as her maid Hana climbed out of her pallet on the floor.



"Who is it, Hana?" She whispered. Light flickered in the dark room as Hana lit a lamp.



"I don't know, Your Highness."



Amila giggled. "Of course you don't. I am silly to ask before you have even opened the door."



Another loud knock startled both girls, and the barefooted Hana rushed to answer it. Amila sat up in bed, and both girls stared in astonishment at the sight of male guards at the princess's door. Guards never entered the Queen's quarters, where Amila lived. It was unheard of. Except….



"Is it the mercenaries? Are they here?" She asked, her voice breathless with excitement.



"Yes, Your Highness. The King commands you to the Queen's Hall with the other women and children."



Amila leaped out of bed, heedless of the filmy linen bedgown she wore. "Oh, can I go to the garden first, please? I want to see the army."



The guard swallowed hard, jerking his eyes up from the dark shadow of the princess's nipples visible through the gown. Even during a time of war, ogling the 16 year old princess's tits was not healthy.



"No, Your Highness. You must go to the Queen's Hall immediately. Well, after you are dressed." He amended.

Dressing took no time at all. She chose the simplest gown in her wardrobe. War called for simplicity, did it not? A crimson wool gown with a gold lace collar and belt was the unanimous choice between her and Hana. Hana brushed her silky moonlight blond hair and quickly braided it, then dressed herself in a serviceable beige and white gown similar in pattern to those of her mistress, though the cloth was slightly less fine.



They followed the guards to the Queen's Hall, the very picture of docile obedience. Four heavily armored guards stood in the doorway, but they moved to allow the two girls entrance. The Hall was filled with tearful women and wailing children, but Amila was satisfied to see no sign of her mother. Quickly she found Katya and Yandes, two of her small company of friends.



"I want to go see the armies." She whispered, after herding them into a corner of the hall.



"Oh, we can't!" Nineteen year old Katya gasped. "It's too dangerous! What if…"



Amila waved her regal princess hand in dismissal. "It's not dangerous at all. We just need to get to the Queen's Gardens. Its perfectly safe. But we can climb the pear tree at the back and see over the wall to the front of the city. Come on, please? When are we ever going to have a chance to see the armies again? There have never been armies so close to the city before. It would be like the book about the Battle of Farren Heights. Pleeeaaaaase."



The sight of a princess begging her friends instead of commanding obedience might be startling for some, but not for anyone who knew Princess Amila. She was a tenderhearted girl. A follower, not a leader. Nor had she been raised to lead, despite being a princess. Not only was it illegal for a Queen to rule Thiane, Amila had three brothers ahead of her in line to the throne. Amila's destiny was to become the wife of some distant royal and cement a good alliance for her kingdom and her father. It was not Amila who ruled her little collection of friends, but twenty year old Lilah who was nowhere to be seen at the moment.



"Yes, let's do it!" Sixteen year old Yandes was almost dancing with excitement. "I wonder if he is handsome?"



"Who?" The astonished Katya asked, but Amila and Hana understood, and giggled.



"The Mercenary King, of course. We want to see him. I know he will be too far away to REALLY see, but we can try! Come on, Katya! Please!" Amila pleaded with her friend in whispers. It would not do for one of the court ladies to hear their plans.



In the face of her three friends uniting – for servant she may be but Hana was included in the group as if she were noble blood too – Katya gave in. Amila knew of a secret hidden door behind some greenery – a quiet little escape for the Queen when she did not wish to make a grand departure from her Hall. The four girls giggled and whispered as they made a mad dash down the hallway to the entrance of the Queen's Garden.



The Queen's Garden was a secluded rooftop garden whose only entrance was from the Queen's Quarters. Herbs and flowers lined a pretty stone walkway, littered with benches and small secluded seating areas. It was the only place Amila had ever been allowed outside. Not once in her entire life had she ever been outside the Palace. Near the back of the garden were several fruit trees, and the girls wasted no time in scampering up the trees to overlook the garden wall. From their vantage point they could see down over the city wall lined with archers and warriors. They gasped in unison as they looked beyond the wall. As far as the eye could see, mercenary warriors milled restlessly just out of arrowshot. Even to the inexperienced eyes of the girls, it was obvious the mercenaries were waiting for something.



Within the walls, more warriors waited. The tension was thick as the minutes ticked by.



"What are they waiting for?" Katya asked curiously. Amila crawled out of the pear tree, seating herself on the top of the garden wall. Her dress was rucked up, baring her pretty legs to her knees as she watched. Her eyes searched the mass of mercenaries outside the gates, but it was too far away to see any individuals. Still, it was all very exciting. At least for about 15 minutes. Then the sun started getting a bit too warm, and Katya started getting a bit too nervous. Nothing was happening.



"We should go back." Katya suggested. "If someone finds out we are gone…"



A shout from below interrupted her. Then a fierce deafening roar rose from the mercenaries outside the wall. Men within the wall rushed to the left. They heard screams of dying men, the clash of swords. A steady stream of mercenaries began pouring in from one of the smaller gates that was for farm carts making deliveries for the city market.



"They got in!" Hana breathed in horror. The girls stared, stricken as the free mercenary tribes hired by the King began fighting the kingdom's soldiers. They had opened the gate, allowing the mercenary army outside access into the town. The girls watched in horror as the armies were destroyed within minutes, trampled as the horde began turning towards the palace. Amila's breath froze in her throat, choking her. Her Papa…her brothers….



"We have to get back!" She screamed.



The girls clambered down from the wall, Amila falling from the lowest branch and skinning her knee. But she was not worried about that, and the girls raced back to the Queen's Hall. They couldn't hear any fighting in the palace, not yet. They didn't go to the secret entrance, but ran to the front of the Hall where the four men stood guard.



"They breached the wall!" Amila cried out as soon as they turned the corner and saw the guards.



"They killed everyone!" Yandes was sobbing.



The guards frowned at the sight of the hysterical girls.



"What are you doing out of the Hall, Your Highness?" One of them stepped forward, his voice scolding as if they were children. "Your father will be displeased. I insist you go back into the Hall."



"Aren't you listening?!" Katya screamed. "The Mercenary Army is within the walls!"


As if on cue, a loud crash was heard in the distance, within the palace. Male panicked shouts, screams of pain. The guards froze, looking at each other with wide eyes.



"Your Highness, I insist you enter the Hall immediately. You will be safest there."



With the girls protesting, the doors were opened and they were shoved inside without ceremony. The doors slammed shut behind them.



Silence descended in the room, all the women and children staring wide-eyed at the stricken girls.



"What? What happened?" The woman who asked was the wife of one of the Royal Counselors, and Amila saw her hands were shaking. Her warning died in her throat. Did she dare tell them? There was nothing they could do to save themselves, their children, or their husbands. The Wall had been breached. Nothing could save them now. Telling them could induce panic that could do nothing but harm. But it also wasn't fair to keep them in ignorance, not when at any moment the mercenary warriors might break in here and slaughter them all.



She took a deep breath, throwing her shoulders back, assuming the regal air she had often witnessed her mother take. Her voice was gentle and soft as she warned them,



"The Mercenary Tribe has breached the Great Wall, but our armies are fighting bravely."



A moan of abject terror shivered through the crowd of women, and some of the children started crying. Amila continued.



"We cannot shame our Kingdom by panicking like weak, mindless animals. Be strong for your children, this does not mean the end. The battle is still going on. We have not lost."



For inspirational speeches it wasn't much. But Amila was still very young, and only a princess. Still, it prevented the worst of the panicking. The women who began wailing in terror were comforted by those around them, as every eye turned to the thick wooden doors.

 

[Valken]

Warlord. General. Conqueror. Titles that had been given to Victor since he had begun his conquest in earnest at the ripe age of nineteen. Victor felt it had been a lifetime ago; years since he had killed Chief Yven in single combat and become leader of the Stone Dogs Tribe. From then a matter of weeks before the Leafless and Horned Giants had been absorbed under Victor's brutal dominance. Three years later he had begun to unite the mercenary tribes under one banner, one leader. Many had tried before, and all had failed. Until Victor came along. It took just over a decade, a decade of bloodshed and hardships but he did it, and became a man of legend; Victor the Boulder; for nothing could stop him.

As Victor crested the hill, mounted upon his stallion named Wind and his dark eyes focused on the tall, impenetrable walls of Lare Victor felt the familiar fluttering within his stomach. A mixture of excitement, worry, hope floundering around within him at the coming battle. He let none of it show on his face, outward he remained cold and calm. As his eyes studied the walls, and the archers, the peaks of the roofs, and castle at the centre of the city, Victor felt a realization wash over him.

Before the sun set, he would be King.

Three men upon horses, diplomats likely began to ride towards Victor and his army. "Snake." Three men down from Victor, the man dark as night leaned over and looked towards Victor, then smiled his unnaturally curved smile – his namesake, before urging his horse into a trot. As Snake neared his prey, he expertly, almost casually threw his short spear and struck one of the men. The middle diplomat lost his head a moment later. The third man attempted to turn his horse around, which only caused the horse to fall over on top of the man. As the horse managed to climb back onto it's feet Snake was already on top of the man, slitting his throat.

A silence fell over the field as Snake returned to the army. Victor waited with the patience of a boulder – another reason the name had been given to him. Communication with his assets within the walls of Lare over the past fortnight had been sparse and short as their King had collected his army within the walls and locked the city down. Victor's plan had been in motion for nearly a year however, and he was confident it would go to plan. Victor could feel his army growing restless behind him as the minutes stretched on. His commanders knew the plan, and kept their men in line as the army laid in wait.

A small commotion could soon be heard to Victor's east. Louder and louder it grew – the familiar sounds of fighting, death and war. Victor's eyes, like that of all the men on the front lines focused on one of the small merchant gates. Slowly, but steadily it began to rise. The sounds of war became a crescendo as the gate reached it's climax and came to a stop; wide open. Victor gave a firm nod. At that, the sound of eleven thousand men cheering deafened out the sound of six hundred horses beginning a charge towards the gate. Holdon, Chief of the The Golden Waters had been awarded the vanguard for the the conquering of the city. Victor's greatest rival, he had given him the honour of vanguard in the hopes the man would finally meet his demise.

Between the men Victor had on the inside, and the surge of the Golden Water's invading the capitol, it wasn't long before more gates began to open. As each one locked in place, Victor signalled the next tribe to charge. Three gates, three more groups charged into the city. Victor's plan was ticking along exactly as intended. Roughly half of his army was sent into the city, the other five thousand remaining outside, at Victor's back as reinforcements.

Keeping half his army outside the city would also keep most of the city from being ransacked and looted. The Red Guards, and promise of the fifth had kept The Kingdom of Thiane from being completely destroyed in Victor's conquest of the Kingdom, but Victor doubted even those policies would keep the city safe if he let loose his entire army of barbarians into the city. Those policies Victor had put into place over his army had become incredibly effective. The promise of a fifth; one fifth of every town, village or city was granted to Victor's army. A fifth of the woman for pleasure, a fifth of the children for slaves, a fifth of the homes for soldiers interested in settling down, and of course a fifth of the loot. It was up to the Red Guards to enforce the fifth. Named for the red bands worn on their left arm, squadron leaders choose one of every three men to serve in the Red Guard for the day. Never two days in a row, the Red Guards for the day were responsible for the following of the fifth. Any damage, costs or overages of the day would come out of the Red Guard's wages for the day. So with forty-five hundred soldiers battling their way through the city, one thousand of them were ensuring, policing almost, Victor's wishes.

The city was not to be ransacked. As much as possible would be kept safe. Lare was the capitol of Thiane and Victor intended to keep the Kingdom for himself. The sun was only half way to it's peak when Victor received word the city was taken, only the castle itself was left to conquer. At that time Victor urged Wind forward at a steady trot, making his way towards the city. His Blackguard, War Council, and various members of his army remaining with him.

Just as Victor entered the main gates of the city he was stopped by a still alive, and smiling Holden. The chief, and a collection of his tribesmen held a prisoner. "The King's youngest son. We caught him fighting on the walls, a very brave man." Holden had a drawl to his voice, which made him hard to understand, as did all folks who came from as far South as the Golden Waters did. The Chief was quite happy with his capture. "What are your intentions with him, Chief?" In response Holden drew the long dagger from his belt, pulled the kneeling Prince's head backwards, and shoved the long, thin blade down the young man's throat. The Prince gurgled and choked, his limbs began flailing uselessly against the tribesmen that held him in place. "I hope this does not displease you, Victor the Boulder?" The man grinned up at Victor, as if waiting for him to become upset. "Hold the wall, Holden." Victor spurred Wind into a walk down the main thoroughfare. Victor intended for the entire royal family, save one exception to be dispatched from this life. If Holden thought he had upset Victor – well that only meant he wouldn't be plotting something else for at least a day or two.

At this point in his life Victor was desensitized to the horrors of war around him. Bodies cut near-in-half, Wind stepping over arms with no sign of the owner in the street. Swords, bows, spears littered the ground where they had been dropped. And the blood. The stench permeated the air, but even that Victor did not pay any heed too. Cries of horror, some of pleasure came from the occasional side street, or building that lined the street he traversed. Despite the travesty that surrounded him, Victor had seen worse. His Red Guards were hard at work keeping the army in line, and damage to a minimum. Just as intented.

As Victor arrived to the castle, he found a presentation for him in the courtyard before the large wooden doors of the castle, that were wide open. Centered in a large ring of Red Guards were two men, kneeling. The younger of the two was bent over to the side, cradling an arrow stuck deep into his stomach. Face pale, the eldest of the Prince's likely did not have much longer to live. Beside him, kneeling as regally as he could was King Hales. Standing beside the two was a man Victor only recognized by description, High Royal Counsellor Albert the Second. The man had betrayed his King and Country in favour of Victor's conquest, all for the promise of being able to rule the Kingdom, under Victor's command, of course.

Dismounting Victor entered the ring of men and stopped in front of the three men. "You bastard, you will-" The King's comment was cut short, as Victor drew his sword and beheaded him all in one smooth motion. His head fell to the side, towards his Counsellor. His body fell the other way, against his son. The Prince, with barely any strength left in him also fell over with a small whimper as the arrow jerked on the paved tiles. Stepping towards the Prince, Victor knelt down and easily pushed his sword into the Prince's chest piercing his heart and ending his life. Slowly, and confidently Victor wiped his sword clean off the royal blood on the Prince's jacket. He then went to the King's head and picking it up he pulled the simple golden crown off the head. He then tossed the head towards the nearest Red Guard. "Mount that somewhere in this courtyard for all to see. The city it taken."

As the men in the vicinity cheered at the victory, Victor turned to his new Royal Counsellor. "The Princess?" "She is safe, and ready as we agreed." "Let us go, then." The Counsellor led Victor into his new castle. They were accompanied by a handful of guards, advisors, a chief and other tag-alongs that always seemed to follow Victor. As they moved through the castle Albert filled Victor in on various details of the conquest. The middle son had not been located, but nearly everything else had gone exactly as dictated.

Not long later the group entered a large chamber that was filled with woman children. Nobles servants that had been locked away from the horrors of wars. Various Red Guards, and guards of the castle loyal to Counsellor Albert stood along the walls of the room. Both to keep the occupants inside, and the brutish warriors of Victor's army from plundering the fine flesh within.

The Counsellor led Victor to a small group of woman, girls really in the chamber. One girl, not dressed as well as the others was clearly a maidservant. Two brunettes, likely nobles who were tag-alongs to the last. A beautiful blonde girl at the forefront of the small group could be none other than the Princess herself. Indeed, the Counsellor stepped forward and took a light hold of the blonde's upper arm.

"Victor the Bounder, Uniter of the Mercenaries, Conqueror of Thiane may I present Princess of Thiane, Amilia." Standing just in front of her, Victor towered over her dainty frame at six foot three. He was nearly thrice her size around with his broad shoulders that she barely stood as tall as. Victor looked her up and down a moment, she was as beautiful as the rumours had said she was. Hidden away as she was all her life in the castle, Victor had barely been able to find out what she looked like.

Victor put the crown of her newly departed father over the hilt of his sword to free his hand. Then he reached out and unceremoniously cupped the Princess breasts. He pressed his palms against her covered tits, his fingers squeezing roughly into the sides of the handfuls she presented. His eyes watched her face for her reaction to being fondled so suddenly in public; that being more his interest than actually feeling her. For the moment at least.

"She will do. Priest?" Victor let go of her breasts and looked behind him for the man in question. A Priest, gathered from a nearby village and made loyal through force stepped up beside Victor, and the Princess. "By Almighty and By Light. By Grace and By Kingship, I pronounce you Husband and Wife. May the Almightly protect us all." A simple ceremony, just as Victor had instructed. Certified by a Priest of the nation's religion, their wedding was true. Reaching out once more Victor grabbed the blonde by the back of her head and twisted her head back so she was looking up at him. Leaning down he pressed his lips against her's kissing her roughly. "May I present for the first time! King Victor the Boulder, and his Wife Queen Amila!" Despite the cry of the High Counsellor, there was no cheering in the chamber.

Victor enjoyed the kiss with his wife. Her soft lips pressed roughly against his. His free hand reached around and pressed into the small of her back, pulling her petite frame tight against his. In the silence of the room Victor kissed held her long. She was now his fifth wife, his other four all also held prominent roles in their respective holdings, but this Princess, now Queen was his newest and he quite liked the look of her. As he held her in the kiss his hand on her back slid downwards over her dress until he found her bottom. Roughly he squeezed her ass cheek. She felt firm and tight underneath his hands. A perfect wife.

Slowly Victor broke the kiss, but still held the dainty girl against him. "You will go to your bedchambers, strip to your nightgown and wait for me there." Looking away from the Princess, now Queen he looked towards the three girls she had been with when he entered. "Take those three with you." He spoke loudly enough that the four girls in question and the guards around them could hear him clearly. "They will service us on our wedding night. Have two of them stripped to their waists." Commands given Victor released his wife and turned to the High Counsellor.

Removing the crown from his sword hilt, Victor instead placed it on his head, signifying himself as King. He then left the room with his group, to make preparations and ensure the takeover of the city was going as intended. His wife was left along, except for five guards who stayed near the four ladies, and would urge them in the proper direction, should they not want to go where instructed.

Many hours later Victor finally found himself alone save for two guards walking down the hallway towards the Princess' chambers. Though now he supposed they were the Queen's chambers. Speaking of the dispatched Queen, his wife's mother she had been captured, and was safely locked away in her own bedroom. The middle Princeling had not been found. Victor hoped he had been killed and was one of the many nameless bodies still in the streets, but he would likely never find out.

Victor stopped in front of the doors that led to his wife's bedchambers. Two more guards stood there. "Any trouble?" "No sir." Nodding, Victor opened the door without knocking and stepped inside. Other than confirming visually the four were in the room, Victor ignored the girls for the time being. Instead he walked over to a dresser on the side. There he removed his crown, setting it on the wooden furniture. Next he unbuckled his belt and removed it along with his sword and belt knife, setting it all in a bundle behind the crown. He then slowly unbuttoned the leather overcoat he was wearing, and that he casually dropped onto the floor. Next he pulled his black wool shirt up over his head, also dropping that on the floor.

He was left bare-chested. His back chest, and arms were littered with scars from a lifetime of battles. None of them were recent. Victor then walked over to an armchair off to the side from the bed. Relaxing back in it Victor stretched out his legs, rested his head back and closed his eyes. For a few minutes he just enjoyed the nothingness. It had been a monumental day for him. He meditated for a few moments, to let the stresses and worries of his life float away. Slowly he opened his eyes and found the four girls that occupied the room with him. A monumental day, and before him was his prize.

"All of you, come kneel in front of me. Except for Amila, tell me your names and ages." Victor remained relaxed in his chair. He had no doubt of their obedience. In his experience noble woman were rare to fight back. "One of your remove my boots, and tell me which of you is the best cocksucker of the four of you." In his experience noble woman were also very modest, and Victor watched the four for their reaction to his vulgar words.

 

[Sadiah]

Long moments passed as the women waited, periodic fits of sobbing breaking out in the crowd. The sounds of fight grew closer and closer – now the warriors were not fighting for their own lives, but the lives of their women and children. The fighting in the hallways leading to the Queen's chamber was some of the bloodiest fighting of the battle. Bodies, pools of blood covered the floor. Men were fighting and stumbling over the corpses of their brothers in arms. Wails from panic stricken women rose as the battle moved closer, children screaming as their mother's began falling apart. Amila began gathering the little ones into the back right corner of the room, so they were penned in and protected by the adult women. Sheltered so that when the doors opened, they would be able to see nothing past the wall of adults. When they saw what she was doing, the other women joined in helping. It was something to do, something that made them FEEL like they were helping.



Then the fighting was right outside the door. Silence reigned inside as the grunts and screams of pain warred just on the other side of the thick wooden door. Amila gasped when she saw a dark pool of blood spreading into the room from underneath the door. Then there was silence. The most horrifying silence Amila had ever heard. The doors blasted open, and as one the women shrieked. Amila could not help screaming as well, as a handful of burly soldiers stepped inside, still holding swords dripping crimson blood. Behind them Amila saw the mutilated bodies of the door guards lying on the floor.



"Well, well, seems we found the treasure room!" One of the warriors laughed, darting forward and seizing a hapless, panic stricken woman who was frozen in terror. His rough hands groped her as the other warriors lunged forward into the crowd of women. The crowd shifted, spun as the women tried to avoid the grasping soldiers. The first one dragged his captive down to the floor, one thick thigh forcing hers apart. Amila recognized the woman as the wife of the treasurer. She screamed as one of the warriors grabbed for her, leering. His fingers closed on her arm, digging in with bruising strength. She lost her balance and fell, the man's heavy weight falling on top of her. She couldn't breathe, screaming in utter panic as his blood streaked grinning face came closer.



"Come on, give me a kiss, pretty one…."



His weight was gone, snatched off her as if he weighed nothing. She caught a brief glimpse of a dull reddish armor, the color of blood. There were others moving through the crowd, seizing the invading fighters and forcing them out of the door. The terrified screams of the flock of women died down as the immediate threats were vanquished by grim-faced mercenaries wearing the reddish armor. Those same mercenaries began taking up positions along the wall, guarding the entrance of the room.



"Oh, Your Highness, are you ok? Did he hurt you?" Hana's sobbing whisper was next to her, the girl's arms wrapping around her, helping her sit up. Amila climbed unsteadily to her feet, unable to stop herself from trembling. It was over, then. The mercenaries had won. And so quickly! It had only been a few hours since the girls had seen them breach the wall from the heights of the pear trees.

"I am alright, Hana. How is everyone else?" She started to move to search through the crowd when one of the red armored mercenaries stopped her.



"Stay" He commanded abruptly. "You are the Princess?"



She thought briefly, wildly, about denying it. But he had been close to her when Hana had helped her up, probably had heard her being addressed. Fear coiled in her belly. Were they going to kill her? She was the most vulnerable out of all the women here, because she was a royal. Invaders killed the royal family, it was always done so. But denying it may lead to innocent women being injured, and Amila could simply not bear that. So she straightened herself. Narrow shoulders thrown back. Chin lifted as she defiantly confirmed.



"Yes, I am Princess Amila Hales of Thiane."



His face remained expressionless. "You stay, do not move."



She did not move. Hana remained by her side. Katya and Yandes emerged from the crowd to stand with her. Their loyalty warmed Amila's heart. She loved her friends fiercely, and hoped her other friends were safe as well. Obviously not all of the women had made it to the safety of the Queens Hall. Her mother was not present at all.



Her mother. Her father and her brothers. Her heart ached, and tears sprang to her eyes. They were probably all dead. She did not know her father and brothers well, but they were still her family. Hana's soft fingers curled around hers, squeezing. Giving comfort.



The mercenary came back, and to her astonishment he had with him a man in the armor of the palace guard. Was it a mercenary who had disguised himself?



But the guard nodded. "It is her." Without a second glance, the two men left, assuming positions at the door. Amila stared in horrified rage. So it was betrayal. Not just by the mercenary tribes her father had hired, but someone who was actually Thianian. Who was it? She did not recognize the guard, but that was not unusual. She never left the Queens Rooms except for the occasional one or twice a year Court Feast. And no men were allowed inside the Queens Rooms except the king, who sometimes brought her brothers. She noticed other palace guards mixing with the mercenaries though. Not many, just a few. But it was enough. Someone had betrayed her kingdom.



More long moments stretched. Whimpers and sighs and soft crying drifted through the huddled women. Amila's plan to protect the children was successful. None of the first wave of mercenaries had reached them. Amila could not even see them from where she was in the front of the room, and she knew they could not see anything past the wall of women hemming them in.



The sharp staccato of heavy boots brought her attention to the opened doors as a crowd of men appeared. It was a large group of blood splashed mercenaries and guards along with a few brightly garbed men who were clearly NOT fighters. But her attention was almost instantly drawn to two of the men. The first one she DID recognize, from the few court feasts she had attended. Her pretty soft blue eyes flashed angrily. So this then, was the betrayer. She went rigid as Hana gasped beside her, clearly recognizing the Counselor as well. The highest ranking counselor in Thiane marched towards her with a grim, malevolent smile on his face.



"Counselor, you stink of treachery." Her voice lashed out at him without thought. If she had time to thought, she would never have said anything. Never before had she dared to reprimand a man. It was fear and anger and helplessness that loosed her tongue. His left eye quirked in surprise at her boldness, then his eyes narrowed angrily. His thin cruel fingers dug into her arm as he snatched it, presenting her to the Mercenary King. Beside her, Hana trembled. Katya whimpered. Yandes stumbled backwards a step, and Amila did not blame her. But she forced herself to remain standing, taking in the oppressive height and mass of the man who had conquered her kingdom so easily. He was a mountain of a man, and that thoughtless unconquered girl of only a few short hours ago would have said that he was handsome indeed. Not the cleancut handsome she had envisioned, but a roughly brutal sort of handsome. Even just standing in front of her, he overwhelmed her. He made her dizzy, made it hard to breathe. She tried to act dignified, tried to mirror the cool, graceful decorum her mother exhibited on a daily basis. But she was not her mother. Wide, frightened eyes blinked up at the Mercenary King. Her throat working as she swallowed hard. Her small hands fisted her skirts nervously, and underneath those crimson skirts her legs were shaking. When her eyes met his, she immediately dropped her gaze. Unable to bear the intensity of his perusal of her. When her eyes dropped, they fastened on the crown held in his hand.



Her father's crown.



Hot tears burned her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away. Her poor father. He had been distant to his only daughter, but always kind. If this beast of a man held his crown, then there was no hope. Her father was dead, and this man, his killer, was now the King of Thiane. What should she do? Should she curtsey? Greet him? Her education on court etiquette was thorough, but it had not covered this sort of event. How did one greet your new King, the murderer of your father, likely the murderer of your whole family? She was saved from puzzling that out in the most appalling way possible. The man simply reached out and grabbed her breasts. The women around them gasped in unison, drowning out her dismayed, shocked squeak. No man had ever touched Amila. Not even her father. She instinctively struck out at his hands, trying to knock them off her body. It was like hitting a rock, she did nothing but hurt her wrists. Nor did he let go, he simply continued groping her breasts, squeezing them unmercifully till her tender flesh ached. Her cheeks burned scarlet, the tears she had blinked away earlier emerging, glistening in her eyes. One fat salty tear dripping down her cheek as she trembled under his explorative touch. Between her legs was a strange tingling heat she did not understand. She could feel the shocked, sympathetic eyes of the other women burning in her skin. Her friends watching, helpless to provide her any aid. Why didn't he just kill her and be done with it? Was he going to rape her here in front of them all?



The idea of it stole her breath. She tasted bile. Though her exposure to men was painfully limited throughout her life, she had books and friends to chat with things about. Sheltered friends, but not quite as sheltered as she. Romance and love was a frequent topic of conversation for teenage girls, and the mysteries of sex came along with it. She had a vague idea about how sex worked, and how girls were raped by enemy soldiers – and sometimes friendly ones. Only moments ago she herself had been precariously close to being raped. Was it about to happen again?



"She will do. Priest?"



The rough gravelly voice jerked her head up as the mercenary's hands fell from her sore breasts. Her wild eyes took in the priest, recognizing him by his robe. He was not the Court Priest, but a priest. And his eyes were pained and sympathetic as he looked at her. She blinked, trying to stop her own tears. She was married before she even realized it was happening. She caught Hana's stunned expression in the corner of her eye. Felt the shocked energy from her friends a half step behind her on her other side. Reeling mentally, she was unprepared for those hard fingers twisting in her silky hair, pulling her bewildered face up to his. His kiss stole the last of the breath she had. Her small hands flailing helplessly, finding his stone wall of a chest. Fingers curling helplessly against his armor as his brutal kiss took possession of her. She whimpered into his mouth, completely overwhelmed. Her soft body curling instinctively into his as her soft mouth opened under his, hesitant and unsure. His hand sliding down her back left her trembling, and when his fingers bit into her asscheeks she squeaked, the sound fluttering against his lips.



When his lips lifted from hers she blinked up at him in a daze, only slowly gathering herself together. Crimson flooded her cheeks as she became aware once again of everyone in the room, their eyes on her and her new….by the goddess….her new husband. She had actually enjoyed what he had done to her, and had ACTED like it. Even a girl as sheltered as she was knew better. It was as if she could feel their judgement battering her flesh. She dropped her eyes as her husband spoke, his voice rumbling through her entire body.

WHAT? The crude commands left her open-mouthed, staring up at him in shocked dismay. Her head jerked to look at her three friends, who looked as shocked as she felt. Yandes was already crying, shaking her head in mute denial. Whispering murmurs drifted through the watching crowd of women. Amila watched in mute consternation as her new husband simply crowned himself and walked away. The priest gave her an apologetic look, but then hurriedly followed his new regent. Could he possibly mean it? She had often envisioned a grand royal wedding. A demure bride presented to an elegantly handsome dutiful prince. Never once had she thought of a wedding like THIS, much less a wedding night with…her FRIENDS. And service him? Whatever did he mean? She looked at her three white-faced, wide-eyed friends. The horrified silence so thick it could almost be touched. They remained petrified, unable to move. Until one of the guards near them made an impatient move. Amila jumped in alarm, looking at him. He threw out his arm, gesturing for her to leave. Reaching out, Amila curled her fingers into Hana's.



"We have to go." She whispered.



"Oh no, Amila! No he couldn't…"



But he had. And without allowing them more time to adjust, the guards impatiently surrounded them, escorting them out of the room and down the hall to her rooms. Yandes sobbed brokenly, and Amila went to her, wrapping her arm around the girl. Her own tears came as well, and by the time the guards ushered the girls into Amila's rooms, all four of the girls were sobbing. The door slammed shut on them, sealing them in. Amila didn't even bother to look out, a guard was surely set. All four girls began babbling at once, but they were interrupted by a distinctly male whisper from under the bed.



"Amila?"



The din of female anxiety died into silence, and Amila scooted off the bed.



"Who is it?" Her own voice was a shaky whisper. A rustling from underneath the bed, and Amila gasped as a head poked out.



"Ivo!"



Her brother slid out from under the bed, getting to his feet. He was a handsome man of 23 years, strong with a shock of blond hair and clear blue eyes like his sister's. Yandes' eyes lit up at the sight of him.



"Oh Ivo, who else survived?" Amila wanted to throw herself into his arms in greeting, but they had never hugged, never touched. She was unable to bring herself to approach him.



"No one, that I know of. I barely escaped." Came the grim response. "What happened in the Queen's Hall?"



"He…he married me." Amila stuttered. Her brother's eyes narrowed on her, sudden interest gleaming in them.



"Really….I did not expect that. I expected him to bring one of his other wives and make her queen."



Amila gasped. Other wives?



"He has other wives? How many?" She demanded.



Her brother frowned at her.



"Stop acting like a jealous wife, Amila. It doesn't matter. Is he coming here later?"



Amila nodded, her fingers twisting together anxiously. She blushed furiously. "Yes..he wants…"



"…all of us." Hana blurted out. "And he wants two of us to be naked at the top!"



Ivo couldn't help but smirk, and all four girls looked down, bushing.



"Do whatever he wants. I will hide under the bed, and when he is…distracted by one of you I will kill him."



Amila flushed angrily. Shouldn't her brother be wanting to save her from the mercenary's attentions, not use her and her friends as a distraction? She bit her lip, but couldn't bring herself to say anything. Katya did it for her.

"But we can't! What he wants is awful!"



Ivo looked sternly at them.



"You must. Do whatever he tells you, it's the only way to salvage this. Father and Narwo are dead. That makes me the King. I command you. With him dead, we have a chance of salvaging this."



"Counselor Albert is working with him. He was with the Mercenary King in the Queens Hall." Amila interjected.



Ivo frowned angrily. "That bastard. But it makes sense now. Alright, I will handle him too. But first, we need to deal with the warlord. Be good girls, do whatever he says. I will handle the rest."



There was no other choice. When the Mercenary King opened the door, the girls were as ordered. Amila was in one of her nightdresses, a thin transparent bit of silky material that was slit up the sides so she could twist and turn comfortably. Hana, being the lowest rank, and the tearful Yandes were stripped to the waist, firm young teenage breasts would have been on fulll display if they did not carefully keep their arms crossed in front of them. Hana wore one of her work skirts hoping the plain brown cotton linen would lessen his interest. Yandes had borrowed an underskirt from the princess, thin white linen that was almost transparent. The girls were carefully avoiding the bed, huddled next to it. Watching with wide frightened eyes as he came in. They remained silent as he found a seat. Fearful rabbits on the verge of panicking before the predator.



They jumped when he spoke, Yandes letting out a skittish yelp, Amila a frightened little squeak. They were slow and reluctant, but they obediently crept forward to kneel in a lovely line of soft girl flesh at his feet. For a moment they were silent, looking at each other, trying to figure out who would speak first. It was Katya, but some unspoken agreement. Her eyes remained firmly locked on the floor as she whispered,

"I am Katya Girhon, daughter of Counselor Kane, and I am nineteen."



Next in the row of kneeling girls was Amila, who remained silent. Hana was next, her voice louder than Katya's, but trembling.



"Hana Bern, maid to Her Hig….Her Majesty."



Amila sniffled at the reminder of her change of station.



Yandes was still crying. Thick salty tears smearing her cheeks as she warbled obediently,

"Yandes Milren, and I am 16, Y…y…your Highness."



His next command caused no end of consternation. They gasped. Yandes mewled pitifully. More looking at each other. It was Amila who leaned forward, her small hands grasping at his heavy boots. One by one she pulled them off his large feet, wrinkling her nose at the smell she uncovered. Thick silence remained though, the girl's having no idea how to answer him. It was the eldest of the batch who finally mustered up the willpower enough to inform him,



"We are all of us virgins, Your Highness. None of us have ever….ummm…" She went helplessly silent. Amila's cheeks burned, knowing her brother was hearing everything said and done from his hiding spot under the bed.

 

[Valken]

In truth, most of Victor's day was spent with only half his mind on the day's duties. He ensured his army was only taking a fifth of the loot; including one fifth of the woman found in the chambers with the Princess. Victor had long term plans for the city of Lare and it would not do to have the entire city torn to shambles. He was also smart enough to know his army needed something to keep them calm and in line. Deny them all loot and rape; well that's not how a conqueror remained a conqueror. There was other tasks as well; rooting out the remainder of the opposition, organizing searches for persons of interest and keeping Chief Holden out of trouble. The reinforcements, camped outside of the city were order to move half a day's march away. Close enough to be recalled if needed, but far enough away to not be able to cause trouble. Commanders were commended, and Snake was rewarded with three different nobles to keep him entertained.

Throughout it all Victor could not help but feel a ghost pressed up against him. The ghost of a tiny, demure frame pressed tightly against his. He could feel her firm ass held tightly within his hand, soft lips innocently opened against his own. It wasn't love that kept his mind wandering, but rather lust, and eagerness of what was to come. His newest wife was a pretty little thing and by all accounts; quite innocent to the ways of men. Victor had his own ways of enjoying the finer sex and it had been far too long since he had nothing more than a few private moments in his tent with a girl. On top of his wife he had also set himself up with three additional girls; a way for him to treat himself to the end of this campaign. What he had seen of the three friends had been brief, and most of his attention captured by the crying dark-haired noble. Not because of her beauty – all four woman he had given himself would have caught his attention by themselves; but the tears had captured his attention. It had been too long since he had a good crier warm his bed and that girl in particular promised to fit that desire. As his mind wandered he did remember seeing tears in the eyes of his Queen as well, before he distracted her with marriage. Perhaps she too, would suit many of Victor's desires.

As the day's work finished and Victor made all the arrangements to be left alone for the evening and night he made his way into the Princess' or rather Queen's chambers. As he entered and focused on removing his belt and crown he was aware of the four girls. Two were topless as commanded, the young noble who had caught his attention, tears still delightfully in her eyes and the girl who must be a servant of sorts – based on the poorer quality of her clothes were bare from the waist up. Annoyingly they kept their arms over their breasts, teasing at their teenage tits, but hiding them from his view. As Victor took his seat in the chair his eyes settled on his new wife. Long blonde hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and she wore a very thin nightgown, hugging her slim, tightly little body, yet loose at the bottom, and slit up the sides to show off her long, pale legs.

Despite all four girls fearfully watching Victor, when his deep voice sounded in the room they all jumped. His wife even let out a cute little squeak, and the tearful noble a yelp. The four girls hesitated for a long moment, almost long enough that Victor thought he might have to repeat himself. Obediently, although slowly all four girls made their way towards Victor and fell to their knees in front of him, creating a very nice line of young girls for him to look over.

After another long moment of silent glances between each other, the first in line, and oldest by Victor's judgment looked to the ground and shyly answered in nothing more than a whisper. She was the daughter of a Counsellor, nineteen and naked Katya. A silent moment, then the girl on the opposite side of his wife spoke with a trembling voice, confirming that she was indeed a maid, and her name Hana. The girl did not speak her age. Finally, tears anew streaming down her face the young noble cried out that her name was Yandes, and she was sixteen years old.

His last command caused even more distraught for the four teenagers he had collected. A collective gasp, and loud crying from the young noble. After more silent glances at each other his wife leaned forward, pale dainty hands working at removing his boots. The girls remained silent as she worked at the task. His feet were left clad in a pair of dark socks with his boots left, and Victor let his legs relax stretched out as he waited for their answer. After another long moment of terrified hesitancy the eldest girl answered, telling their new King they were all virgins, and had never – the poor girl could not finish the sentence and let her silence tell Victor what he wanted to know.

Victor remained silent, looking over each girl one by one. The young noble girl, tears smearing her cheeks, arms still wrapped protectively over her teenage tits. Victor already knew he was going to enjoy tormenting her. The maid, arms also covering otherwise bare breasts. She was likely used to passing unnoticed most of her life. Her body was tight and slim; Victor would find satisfaction in her. Then his wife, the only blonde of the group stood out in many ways. From her bright, frightened blue eyes, to the deep blush upon her cheeks, not to mention the stunning nightgown she wore for his eyes. Any normal wedding day she would be more than enough to satisfy his desires. The bride would have to accept that she would be sharing her new husband's attention this night, though. Finally, the eldest of the group, and the plainest if Victor was being honest remained completely dressed and decent. On any other day Victor would have been happy to explore her long legs and petite tits; on this day though she would have to impress him in other ways than just her pretty body. All four girls were docile, obedient and beautiful – Victor would have his fill this night and in the nights to come.

Standing, Victor slowly walked around the kneeling Katya. His fingers traced over her shoulder as he came to a stop behind her. "I am very pleased to hear that, Katya." Reaching out Victor placed the points of his index fingers underneath her temples, on either side of her ears. Gently, he traced his fingers around her ears, pulling her long brown hair behind her ears and over her back. He let his hands trail away from her head, her hair falling over his fingers to gently fall against her back. He then stepped away from the noble girl, positioning himself behind his new wife.

As he did before, just after their ceremony he grabbed a fitful of her luscious blond hair at the back of her neck. With that hold he forced her head to tilt back, until she was looking towards the ceiling. Then he forced her head back even more, until her back was curving, thrusting her breasts out until her face was uncomfortably pointed upwards and backwards, to where he stood. Leaning down, Victor crouched until he could place his lips once more against hers. He let his lips play against hers, opening them so his tongue could slide through and enter her mouth. She tasted exactly how he imagined a Princess would, just like any other woman he had been with, clean with a hint of salt. As he kissed her his hand left her hair, instead sliding over her shoulder and down her front. Following the strap of her nightgown until he found where strap met covering. His other hand reached around her body to grip at the strap, and with almost comical ease he ripped it off. This let the front side of her nightgown fall loose. Lifting the strap off her shoulder his hands met at the back portion of the strap and ripped it there too, giving Victor a short length of strap, or in the right hands, a binding. Breaking the kiss Victor stood up, releasing the pressure he had been putting on her head and letting his wife relax her body from the contorted position he had put her in. Still silent he stepped away from the blonde girl, so he was instead behind the young maid.

Victor draped the strap of Amila's dress onto Yandes' bare shoulder, for later use. With his hand free he then reached around Hana's tiny body and wrapped his fingers around the maid's neck. He held her firmly, but not tightly. With that hold he pulled her upwards, forcing the servant off her knees and onto her feet. He lifted her even higher, until the dainty girl was forced to stand on her tip-toes. He made sure he was choking the girl, but held her tightly enough to hold her up in place. With his free hand he grabbed the cotton of her brown skirt at her thigh and yanked it down off her hips in a sharp motion. Free of her hips the skirt fell to the ground. If the maid was wearing any undergarments Victor grabbed those too and yanked them off her hips and down her thighs to let the clothing pool at her pretty little feet. This made the maid the first of the girls to be fully naked for their Conquerors' pleasure. His hand then went to the firm, tight flesh of her teenage bum. Gently he squeezed one ass cheek, then his rough, calloused hand slid over to the other cheek to give it a firm squeeze. "As a maid, I'm sure your Mistress has a dress that caught your eye." His voice was deep, calm and measured. It showed no hint that he was violating four teenage girls, or the excitement he felt at doing do. "A dress you knew you could never wear, but in the deep dark hidden parts of your mind, wished you could." As he was talking his middle finger began to slide between her tight ass cheeks, rubbing gently against the length of her dark entrance. "I want you to go to the dressing chambers there, and put it on." He followed the crevice of her ass cheeks down until he was reaching underneath her. His large hand forcing her thighs apart. Gently his middle finger slid over her slit, teasing the maid's treasure. His middle finger spread her lips with it's presence, but Victor was careful not to violate her just yet. "Once you are wearing it come back out, to display it for me." With his hand between her legs Victor lifted up, easily lifting the dainty girl's toes off the floor. His hand on her throat held her steady as he pulled the maid out of the lineup of teenage prey and pointed her towards the door that Victor assumed went to the dressing rooms, where all the Princess' clothing was stored. Victor set the girl back down, flat on her feet and removed his hand from her neck. Slower, he pulled his hand from between her legs, letting his middle finger slide over her precious lips once more. Once his hands were free he spoke, "Quickly now." The hand that had been between her legs gave one of her ass cheeks a sharp slap. Not a slap to be painful, but one to be loud, the sound of flesh-on-flesh sounding loudly for all ears in the room, and to urge the maid off to her task. The sharp slap likely left a sting on the girl's bottom.

Lastly, Victor positioned himself on the far side of Yandes from the other two girls. He knelt down on one knee, half behind the crying girl and half beside her. Taking the strap off of her shoulder Victor roughly grabbed her arms and yanked them behind her. He pulled her elbows as closely together as he could without popping her arms out of their sockets. An incredibly uncomfortable position, but it did force the girl to push out her chest and properly display her young, bare flesh. He wrapped the strap around her elbows and tied it expertly and well done. It would likely have to be cut to be taken off. With her tits now properly displayed Victor reached around her to take a breast in his hand, her bare nipple pressed against his palm as he roughly squeezed the handful provided. Leaning in Victor placed his face near her ear and whispered so only the young noble could hear him "You are right to be scared, girl." Leaning in further his tongue came out and Victor licked from the corner of her pretty, full lips and up her cheek to just under her eye. He tasted the saltiness of her tears, his dark eyes focusing on her dark, wide eyes. "For I am going to hurt you." His fingers slid over the flesh of her breast until his thumb and index finger squeezed her nipple. As Victor stood back up he twisted, turning her nipple sharply and harshly. He only released her when his height made it so he could no longer reach her in her kneeling position.

Victor then walked back towards the blonde girl. "Sit with me." Reaching down he took his wife by her upper arm and almost gently pulled her up to her feet and towards the chair. Letting go of her as he sat down in the armchair Victor slid his own ass all the way back and spread his legs. He then reached out and took a hold of his wife's hips, turning her so her back was towards him, and she was facing the two girls and the room. He then pulled her back and down, so she was sitting just in front of his crotch, and between his legs. With one strap missing and Victor's hands on the girl's hips the dress had been pulled down enough to free one of the Queen's young virgin tits to the room. Victor could also feel the heat of her bare back pressed against his bare chest as she leaned against him. "I want you to guess the color of the dress Hana is choosing, Amila." As he spoke, loudly enough for all three girls to hear him his hands began to slide down his wife's wonderful thighs. "If you guess correctly, you will get to choose which of the three get to be first to suck my cock." His hands slid around to the outside of her legs and underneath her knees. "If you choose wrongly, then Yandes is going to receive a punishment." His rough palms hooked underneath her knees, fingers reaching up the insides of her legs. He then pulled her legs apart, spreading them as he lifted her knees upwards, and over the arms of the chair. He spread her legs nice and wide for the room, and with her knees hooked over the arms he slid his hands to the top of her legs. With that hold he pulled her knees backwards, until her legs were almost a straight line across, and his wife was displayed quite predominately to the two noble woman.

His hands then slid down her legs, over her thighs. His left stopped there, in the middle of her warm, toned, yet thin thigh. His right hand continued downward to find her centre. If she was wearing undergarments he weaved his fingers underneath them. His index finger found her slit and gently and slowly he slid his finger over his wife's treasure. "While we wait, won't you entertain us Katya?" Victor paused as he focused on where his finger was. Finding the apex of her entrance he focused his attention on the little ball of nerves. In slow, gentle yet firm circles he rubbed his Queen's clitoris. His motions became consistent and he continued speaking. "Dance for us. While you do so, remove all of your clothing. Nice and slow, show off your body for your King and Queen. To give you incentive to go slow, let's say this. If you are naked before Hana comes out, you will receive a punishment. Yet to keep you motivated at pleasing, if you are wearing any article of clothing when Hana comes out, Yandes will be punished."

He continued stroking his wife's clit in small, gentle circles, his dark eyes hard on Katya. For the time being Yandes was left forgotten, on her knees, arms tied uncomfortably behind her. Hana, out of sight but all the girl's despair relying on her.

 

[Sadiah]

Amila had entertained her friends plenty of times in her rooms. Restricted to the Queen's Rooms for her entire life except for rare Court Feasts, her parents and the servants indulged her whenever she wanted her friends close by. The girls – seven in total – had spent hours and hours together in this bedroom in innocent play. All of the girls were comfortable in here – except for tonight. Tonight was definitely not innocent play. Tonight they had a different playmate entirely, and they didn't know what to do about it but obey. After all, he was their new King, was he not? Not to mention a powerful male who could easily physically overwhelm all four of them at once. These were gently bred girls, for whom the practice of defending themselves had never once been dreamed of – by themselves or their parents and guardians. Innocent girls in every sense of the word, trained to obedience. Who could possibly expect them to suddenly grow a backbone when the conqueror of their entire world focused his depraved attention on them and commanded them to abase themselves? A word from him, and their heads would roll. It would be the one of the kindest forms of punishment he could command. Of course they obeyed. But they were comforted - at least for now - but the knowedge that they know rescue was close by in the form of the young prince waiting under the bed, armed with a knife.



Amila could have easily had any of her friends take off her husband's boots. Hana was a servant, it would have been nothing to command her to do so. But that was not Amila's way. Hana's job was being a maid, but Hana was first and foremost Amila's friend. The girls had been friends ever since they had been eight years old and the Queen had assigned Hana to train to be Amila's maid. Besides, the man WAS her husband now, whether she wanted it or not. Choosing her husband was never something she had even dared dream of. She had only hoped the husband chosen for her would be kind, and dreamed that he might love her. Dreams aside, she had always known the reality of what might be. This man was her husband now, and her responsibility. Tenderhearted as she was, Amila could not bring herself to force one of the other girls to take on the dreadful task of removing those boots. So she had simply moved forward and did so. Immediately scrabbling back into the line of despairing girls as soon as she did.



All four girls cringed when he stood, poor Yandes whimpering. They knelt there, frozen as he prowled around them. Katya's skin prickling in fear when she felt those big fingers sliding against her temples. Her gaze remained locked forward, unseeing. Every ounce of her being focused on him as his fingers slid through her silky dark hair. The other three girls watched him. Worried for Katya, each one secretly glad his attention was not on them but knowing instinctively that their time was coming. Amila's turn came quickly, her body stiffening as he moved, shifting to a position behind her. Trembling as she turned her eyes forward like Katya's had been, with Katya's fearful eyes turning to their tormenter and king.



Amila whined in fear when his fingers twisted in her hair, forcing her pliant soft body to bend awkwardly. Young tits thrusting upwards underneath that flimsy excuse of a nightdress. Pink lips parting in a gasp , hot tears springing into her eyes. She felt utterly exposed, acutely aware of how her breasts called out for attention in this position. Whimpering against his mouth when he kissed her again. Her mouth opening for him with just a touch of pressure from his lips, a shudder of fear and heat rippling through her as his rough hand slid down over her silky shoulder. She yelped in shocked fear when the delicate silk ripped apart under his hand, the lacey front sliding down and baring one firm silky breast. A concerted gasp arose from the other three girls. Another tearing sound as the silky strap was completely ripped away from her nightdress. Then his mouth was gone, his fingers letting her white gold hair slide free. Amila hunched her shoulders in an unconsciously defensive gesture, fumbling tearfully at her nightdress, tugging the lacy front up over her breast, clutching it there. Her cheeks burned hot under the sympathetic looks from her friends, remembering her brother lying hidden mere feet away, having heard her distressed sounds and the ripping cloth. Surely he would have at least some idea of what happened. She wished she had some way of letting him know the mercenary king had no weapons that she saw, that he was vulnerable, that he could be killed now. But she didn't dare say anything. Her brother was the warrior, he would know the best time to strike.



Hana and Yandes both cowered away from him as he stepped near them. Power oozing off his body, paralyzing the poor girls with dread. Yandes was so frozen she didn't even respond when he draped the silky strap over her bare shoulder. She just stared down at the floor, barely able to breath. His intimidating bulk so near her stealing all the air from her lungs. Hana whimpered when his arm curled around her naked torso, his thick fingers curling around her neck. Stark terror flashed in her pretty eyes as his grasp forced her to her feet, arms flying up to instinctively grasp his arm, tugging at it in vain. Her legs trembling underneath that ugly skirt as she was pulled up onto her toes. Hot tears dribbled down her cheeks, her shriek echoing in the chamber as the thick protective skirt was yanked down her slender thighs, the pale white panties quickly joining it at her feet. She was naked now, nothing hiding her bare body from his gaze. Her hysterical panicked breaths loud in the room, her throat straining against his firm hand. She was exquisite naked, her flat belly flexing as she fought for breath. Long lean legs exposed. As was common with the women of her country, her body was carefully kept free of hair. So the curve of her teenage pussy sliding down between her dancing legs was a smooth and inviting one.


The other girls fluttered and gasped in distress and fear, but did not move from the places he had put them in. But Hana cried pitifully as he groped the firm round flesh of her asscheeks, his finger rubbing against the tight puckered hole tucked protectively between them. Sliding even further down, finding that succulent secret flesh. Her fingers flew to pull his away. Struggling desperately to pull his hand away from her, succeeding only an obscene parody of passion and lust. She was damp there, her body flushed. She did not understand why, as protected from the opposite sex as the princess she had served since she was a child. Did not understand how a woman's body could respond despite her mental state of fear and shame. Hana could only sob in bewilderment as coils of heat curled in her lower belly as his thick finger stroked her there. She quivered in his hands as he lifted her even further, her bare toes stretching, her mouth gaping wide as her air was nearly choked off. Tear-filled eyes wide with terror. As soon as both of his hands were free of her body she was scampering off into the closet, overwhelmed with relief to finally be free of his touch. Her shocked yelp at the stinging slap on her naked ass echoed by soft mewling cries of distressed concern from the other girls. Hana rushed into the changing room, so anxious to be out of the mercenary king's eyesight that she did not even slow down enough to close the door.



Inside the room she stood gasping, looking around, trying to calm her fearfully thudding heart. Flinching when she heard a shrill cry from Yandes. She forced her mind to focus. A dress. Now as she began to calm down, she instantly knew which one she wanted. Her eyes going straight towards it. It was new, worn only once by the Princess. At the last Court Feast she had attended only a few months ago, barely 16 years old and ready for marriage. Princes from dozens of kingdoms had been invited. It was a dress utterly unlike the others in the Princess's closet. A dress designed to entice, to attract attention. A dress that oozed sensuality, a complete offset to the obvious innocence of the girl who had worn it. A dress of filmy layers of reds and grays that slid against each other with every move of the girl who wore it. Giving teasing glimpses of a thigh here, a hip there. A dress for a girl being paraded in front of future husbands. Did she dare wear it? She knew she should not. She should choose some pretty discrete gown that he would think she loved. Wearing a dress like the one she REALLY loved would do nothing but encourage him. Her heart faltered at the mere thought of it. But when would she ever have such a chance again? How she had longed to wear it when she had helped Amila put it on! It was not a pretty dress, it was a stunning one. Hana had never felt beautiful, but she knew wearing that dress she would feel more beautiful than any woman ever had in the history of the Fifty Kingdoms.



She reached for the dress. Naked in front of those open doors, just out of eyesight of her friends and the mercenary king. Her fear from earlier fading away as she ran her fingers over the soft silky layers. Carefully dressing in it, a soft smile as it settled around her naked flesh – cool and unbearably soft. She swirled like a child playing dressup, feeling the rush of air moving through the layers and across bared naked flesh. Then taking a deep breath, she turned to the doorway to go into the bedroom.



And froze. Seeing the prince underneath the bed, his hot eyes on her. She could see his hand rubbing his crotch as he watched her. She swallowed hard, but she was not afraid. Not of him. This was the prince, the true and rightful King. Looking at HER with lust in his eyes. It was a heady shot of feminine power. Her spine straightened, narrow shoulders going back, her chin lifting. Feeling every inch a princess….no, a QUEEN. He had seen her naked, saw her now in this exquisite dress. And he WANTED her.



Yandes whined when he stepped nearer to her. His salty, musky male scent overwhelming her instantly. His hands seized her slender arms without a trace of gentleness, pulling them ruthlessly behind her. Her stricken wail of pain tore through the room as he pulled her elbows together. Yandes was young and slender and supple, and her body obediently contorted into the position he forced her into. Arms bound painfully behind her, her soft body quivering as melted tears ran down her cheeks. Plump teenage tits thrust proudly out, uncovered and unashamed. Terror ran through her blood as he groped her tits, his fingers harsh, digging into the soft titmeat. There was no faint stirrings of arousal as there had been with Hana. Yandes was nothing but dread and horror as his malicious dark voice floated into her ear. This was Yandes worst nightmare. In truth she had always dreaded both men and marriage. It was not the bodies of men that stirred her interest, but those of women. And Yandes had never been one to suffer pain well. He yelped again as he cruelly twisted her nipple then released it and stepped back. The abused nub throbbed resentfully as Yandes cried helplessly.



Amila watched helplessly as poor gentle Yandes was brutalized. She wished desperately she had the courage to complain, to beg him to leave her friends alone. But fear curbed her courage. Reluctantly she rose to her bare feet when he pulled her up, stumbling. Streaks of dried tears blotching her pretty face. She whimpered when he pulled her down, her ass perched on the edge of the chair. Her protective hand leaving off covering her breast, both hands seeking something to balance herself. First they found his thighs. Solid thigh thighs that flexed under her fingers. Immediately she pulled her hands away, her fingers closing on the arms of the chair. His powerful thighs trapped her slender body between them. She cringed at the heat of his crotch burning into her backside, his powerful voice rumbling through his chest at her back. One bare breast exposed to the air, her skin prickling as she saw the eyes of her friends focusing on it.



Guess the color of the dress Hana would pick? Her eyes flew to that open doorway, praying for a glimpse. But there was nothing. Her mind raced, struggling to remember any of Hana's reactions. It would likely be one of the dresses she had worn to a Court Feast. Did she even WANT to guess right? Her eyes flicked from the door to the changing room to the wide, terrified yes of Yandes. How could she possibly choose one of her friends to ….even in her own mind she could not finish that question. But poor Yandes…

His insistent fingers slid to her thighs, spreading them apart. Exposing her completely to the reluctant eyes of her friends. She was not wearing any underwear. You did not wear underwear with a sleeping gown. She never had. The idea of doing so had not occurred to her, but now she desperately wished it had. She wanted anything to stop those fingers from diving deeper between her thighs. Finding the delicate exposed flesh there and toying with it. Heat flooded her cheeks, humiliation roaring in her ears as Katya and Yandes heplessly watched his thick finger stirred in that achingly soft flesh. Her despairing whimper sounded loud in the room, despite the rushing blood of shame in her ears. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she fought to focus. Guess the dress. The only dress she could remember was the one from the last Court Feast, the one that had her blushing in embarrassment and consternation when her parents had insisted she wear it. But surely Hana would not pick that one! Hadn't they both bemoaned how horribly exposing it was? No, Hana would pick something softer. Something silky and pretty and luxurious.



"The pink one, from the Spring Feast." She gasped out, hips involuntarily jerking when the rough pad of his finger found her clit, circling it teasingly. A stab of pleasure spearing the core of her body, slick moisture seeping under his fingers. She almost moaned, but bit back the sound just in time. She couldn't decide if she hoped she was right in her guess, or hoped she was wrong. Her eyes went to Yandes' again, meeting the girl's pleading gaze.



Katya looked up at the mercenary king in horror. Entertain him? How could she….no. No, she couldn't. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of dancing for him. But he left her little choice, trapping her neatly into stumbling to her feet. Her stricken eyes going to poor Yandes, who was still crying. Yandes or her. One of them would be punished. May the Gods help poor Yandes, but Katya was NOT going to suffer a punishment from this cruel man if she could help it. Her eyes immediately slid away, guilt stabbing at her heart. She was older than Yandes, she should be willing to take the punishment. But she was not. And so she started dancing.



Dance was not something sheltered young noble women did in the Kingdom of Thiane. Katya was anything but practiced as she danced. Her hip movements were awkward and jerking. Her expression strained, her hands fluttering helplessly, not knowing what to do. Her slippered feet shuffled under her swirling skirt. She had dressed today with no knowledge of the impending attack. A velvet pale purple gown with a white underdress. But despite her lack of experience and awkwardness, her breasts still bounced and jiggled happily with each sway of her hips, every mincing turn. Too soon, she began unlacing the bodice of the gown. Her fingers jerking and pausing, uncertain as to how fast she should go. She could FEEL Yandes' despairing and pleading eyes on her, and resentment stirred deep in her breast. Why should Yandes expect her to take punishment on herself? None of this was fair, the horrible man was putting them in impossible positions, and it was horrid of Yandes to expect her to willingly take on punishment. Anger and shame burned in her cheeks as the lacing came unfastened under her pulling fingers. She dreaded being naked before this man, but she also dreaded whatever punishment he had in mind. So she danced. Aware of the pitiful moan Yandes made as Katya wiggled out of that soft velvet dress. The luxurious material whispering as it fell down her body to pool at her dancing feet. The thin soft white linen dress molding to her slender body as she turned her back. A flush of shame creeping down her neck as she reached backwards, unfastening the underdress. The edges slipped apart, cool air rushing against the naked skin of her narrow back. The underskirt acted as a bodice, lifting her breasts. So when she slipped out of it after a few more turns and wiggles, trying to move slowly but not too slow because she was terrified Hana would come out any second now, her plump bare breasts bounced freely. Her dark nipples engorged and flaunting themselves. She wore only panties now, unable to lift her eyes from the ground. Feeling his eyes searing into her nakedness.



From inside the changing room, Katya heard a light step. Her fingers betrayed her secret thoughts at the quickness with which they shed those panties. And by the time Hana stepped into the room, Katya was naked. Silky brown hair swirling around her shoulders as she danced with a stumbling gait, hot tears filling her eyes, blinding her.



Hana did not step into that bedroom with the gait of a servant. She sailed into the room like a princess…no a Queen. Feeling the hot eyes of Prince Ivo on her. Her first few steps carrying her with the exultant power of feminine beauty. Until she saw Amira's horrified eyes on her, the princess's legs spread wide, glistening female flesh on full display as the mercenary king toyed with her. Hana stumbled, her steps faltering as the reality of the situation wrapped around her. Yandes' stricken eyes meeting hers, a moan of despair escaping the girl that left Hana full of dread. Had she done something wrong? And Katya, naked, jerking like a marionette on a string, tears of shame trickling down the older girl's cheeks.



Hana came to a stop. Anxiety welling inside her chest as the eyes of everyone in the room speared her. The girl high on feminine power before visibly deflating, wringing her hands anxiously as she looked on the others in the room.

 

[Valken]

Katya, and his newest young wife remained compliant and pliable as Victor focused his attention on each of the young girls. The eldest of the group knelt as still as possible, as if she believed he would forget her even as he brushed her hair behind her head. Lucky for her, for the time being Victor's attention wasn't long on her, as he moved behind the blonde of the group. Amila's body twisted backwards easily with his guidance, with a wonderful, sweet whine sounding from her throat as he did so. He caught a glimpse of her young, teenage tits being thrust forward, petite as they were displaying a lovely amount of cleavage with the form-fitting nightdress she wore. As their mouth's closed together he felt more than heard her whimper, as the groom kissed his bride. He felt her shudder in fear as his calloused hand slid over her smooth, soft shoulder, and the delightful yelp that came from her as he tore the strap from her dress. As he broke the kiss his dark eyes roamed the exposed flesh of her virgin tit, the flesh soft and smooth, and all his for the taking. When he released his wife he watched her for just a moment as the vulnerable girl hunched her shoulders and desperately clawed her dress back into place over her breast. His wife was turning out to be everything he looked for in a companion – tearful, frightful, beautiful and ever obedient to her husband's wishes.

The young noblewoman, Yandes remained frozen as Victor draped her binding over her shoulder as his attentions focused on the servant of the group. A whimper sounded from the pretty servant as his arm wrapped around her and his thick, calloused fingers wrapped around her pretty little throat. As he lifted her up to her toes he could feel her dainty little hands grasping his arm uselessly. With his height over her he could see that she too, was a pretty tearful little thing. As he unceremoniously pulled her skirt, then panties down the servant let out a wonderfully loud shriek at being exposed to him and the three noblewoman completely. The three girls not in his hold gasped and fluttered in place; all fearful of what was to come, yet relieved his attentions were not on them.

Victor could see the naked girl in his hands was slim, and long. A flat stomach and torso, only hindered by firm, petite tits. Her legs were long and slim, capped on the back by the firm roundness of her ass cheeks, and prettily curved on the from for her treasure. The girl cried loudly as Victor's fingers explored between her ass cheeks, then underneath the apex of her legs. He felt the wetness of the innocent teenager's arousal as her slim fingers pathetically attempted to remove his from her center. He lifted her without issue, pointing her towards the closet, his finger easily becoming wet with her arousal. A quick slap to her ass later and with a yelp the naked servant made her way to the dressing rooms. The King watched with lust hard in his eyes as the naked teenage girl scampered away from him, long legs and bare ass innocently moving in a way they kept his attention until she was out of sight.

The young supple body of Yandes contorted and twisted just as easily as his wife's had. Elbows drawn together and bound tightly left her chest pleasantly thrust forward for both his eyes, and his hands. The girl replied only with tears and yelps as he groped her flesh for his enjoyment and whispered threats into her ear. A final yelp coming from the young noblewoman as he twisted her nipple one last time, then left her exposed and displayed to once more focus on his new Queen.

The blonde rose easily as Victor guided her to her feet and towards the chair he had claimed as his own. Pretty bottom perched easily in front of his crotch on the edge of the leather chair the King and Queen adorned. The Queen attempted to steady herself, first with her hands softly upon his muscled thighs, then quickly on the arms of the chair. With her dainty body warmly pressed against him their size difference was readily apparent, with Victor towering over the dainty royal in both height and width. He spread her legs wide, in front of her hands as he gave her the task of guessing the colour of dress her servant would choose. Victor noticed that the two tearful nobles in the room watched as his hands explored the long length of her wife's spread legs.
He could feel the warmth of the young bride's body as he found the center of her legs. He felt her hips jerk when his finger expertly focused on her clitoris. His wife was wet, her body traitorously aroused by the horrors her and her friends were enacting for her new husband. He hear a soft sound from her throat, not a growl, almost a purr – a repressed moan. With her back tight against his chest, his fingers at her center, there wasn't anything his wife would be able to hide from her King. She spoke in a gasp, telling him her guess of a pink one. As his finger continued to please he issued the command for entertainment.

Three pairs of eyes focused on Katya as she was ordered to dance and to strip. One pair of tears and hidden pleasure, one pair of tears and desperation, and the final filled with dark lust. The eldest of the girls was jerky and unpracticed as she moved her young, lithe body to no beat in complete obedience to her new King. She spun awkwardly and after a few moments she began to untie the bodice of her purple gown. Victor watched with rapt lust, and he played with the blonde's center. His index finger gently rubbed against her clit in a circular motion, and each time Victor felt a pang of lust run through his loins, he adjusted that pressure on his wife. An improper wiggle of Katya's round bottom earned Amila a pinch to the clit. The bodice of her dress slipping down to expose her white under dress – Victor ran the entire length of his finger firmly down her clit, spreading her lips ever so slightly. When Katya began to unfasten her under-dress, exposing her slim back Victor hooked his finger inwards, wrapping around the young Queen's clit and pulling upwards. None of it was painful, his attention to his wife was expertly pleasant, to share the joy and pleasure he was feeling at watching her young teenage friend strip for them. Katya's slender body was soon left only covered by a pair of tiny panties, and Victor's finger was actively thrusting over Amila's clit – careful not to penetrate her deeply enough to break anything, but enough to give the young royal more than a hint of what was to come.

Quite suddenly Katya broke the motions of her dance to grip the hem of her panties and quickly pull them down her long legs, leaving her wonderfully naked for her audience. Not a moment later the teenage servant entered the main bedroom from the dressing room she had been sent too. Victor had grown up in a land were men and woman wore deer and rabbit skin leathers roughly sewn together in order to protect one from the mild weather of his homeland. It had only been when he traveled that he had become accustomed to dresses and pants that were considered civilized. Victor's tastes had quickly adapted to the dresses Katya had just stripped out of, and nightgowns his wife so prettily adorned. What Hana came out wearing was on an entirely new level. It was a dress not only made to enhance the womanly features of a girl, but to allude and entice, and attract. It wasn't meant for sleep, or to be proper for court, or for travelling. This was a stunning dress meant only for the purpose of attracting a man's attention.

Hana flowed into the room with the air of royalty. That was until her bright blue eyes widened upon her Queen, back-dropped by her King. The servant came to a stumbling stop, and young Yandes let out a moan of despair at the sight of the girl not wearing a pink dress. Katya, tears streaming down her pretty face awkwardly continued her naked dance. Although Victor had already seen pretty Hana naked, his finger came to a stop on his wife's pussy as he admired the beauty that was the serving girl.

Victor let the silence hang in the room as his lustful eyes slowly left Hana, to admire Katya for a long moment. The eldest of the girl's was the only one now, that was completely bare. Despite his wife being so exposed, the ripped nightgown did still conceal her. And little Yandes, still knelt before Victor and Amila, elbows painfully tight behind her wore a simple skirt.

"I apologize ladies. I could not tell what came first, Hana, or Katya's nakedness." Victor removed his finger from Amila's warm sex, letting his hand slide along the inside of her thigh towards her knee, trailing her wetness along her smooth skin. "Without a clear winner I have no choice but to modify what I said before. Amila here, will take both punishments." His hands slid to the top of her knees, and very suddenly he jerked her legs closed, letting her fall back onto her perch on the chair between his legs. His hands went to her slim waist, and as he slid his own body towards the edge of the chair he twisted Amila over so she was bent over his left knee. He could feel her soft stomach resting against his thick thigh. He then twisted her, lowering her face towards the floor, and raising her ass up nice and high. He then gripped the thin cloth of her nightdress and ripped it along the middle of her back, length-wise. Quickly he had it torn apart and spread to the sides, leaving her back completely exposed to her husband. Victor lustfully admired the round curve of her creamy ass, and the wet glint that came from the rosebud between her legs.

"Five for guessing the wrong colour." Without any other warning Victor began to spank his wife. Five harsh slaps to her white bottom that quickly turned a bright red as he alternated cheeks. The slaps went quick and sharp, the sound of flesh on flesh sounding in the large bedroom as the King spanked his Queen. "And three each, for how quickly Katya disrobed, and how slowly Hana dressed." After his statement Victor issued three more spankings to each of Amila's firm ass cheeks. He didn't his his wife hard enough to bruise her, but her soft skin was left a bright red, and the girl would likely have a hard time sitting for the next day or so.

Done with the punishment, Victor shoved his wife off of his leg, letting her fall to the floor. Standing up he stepped over the blonde at his feet, his attention on the naked brunette as he took the few steps needed to close the distance between them. Victor towered over the eldest of the girls just as he did the others. Reaching out with his left hand he reached around her and grabbed the back of her neck, twisting her head back so she was looking up at him. His right hand reached up and he took a hold of one of her teenage tits, fondling it gently. The wetness from the Queen rubbed off on the noblewoman's breast as Victor fondled her. He only held onto her for a long moment, before both hands released the eldest teenage girl.

Instead he moved over to Hana. His dark lustful eyes slowly looked her up and down. After a long moment his large hands reached out and clasped onto her slim shoulders and he easily turned her petite form around. With her backside towards him he gave her the same once over he had down with her front. After a moment his right hands slid down her shoulder, over her back and to the roundness of her bottom. He gripped her ass cheek roughly through the thin dress she wore. His leg hand then went to her long locks of light brunette hair, and he pulled her head back sharply, twisting her torso outwards sharply so she was looking back up at him. Very similar to how he had positioned Amila, earlier.

"Continue to be a good girl, Hana -" Victor spoke loudly enough that all the girls in the room would be able to hear him. "And I will fill you with my seed. The seed of a King." Leaning downwards Victor pressed his lips against the young, supple teenage lips of Hana's. He drove his tongue past his lips and through hers, to explore her mouth with his tongue. He had noticed how Hana had entered the room, how she had briefly carried herself. As a servant to royalty, it was likely she thought more of herself than she truly was, and Victor intended to tease that out of her. As he kissed her deeply he knew the eyes of his wife would be on them – was she a jealous one? This was an easy way to find out.

The sloppy, deep kiss lasted for a long moment before Victor broke it by rising up to his full height. Stepping to the side he then pulled Hana backwards by her hair, and easily tossed her petite form backwards, towards where he had left Amila. Victor turned so his back was towards the bed, facing the chair he had been sitting in; two girls naked, one half and the last fully dressed. "Katya, get on your knees in front of me." As he spoke Victor unlaced his trousers. "Take my cock in your mouth, and suck. " He pushed his trousers, and his underwear down, exposing his nearly fully hard cock to the four girls. His size and girth matched his frame; he was large, but not so that he would permanently break the girls. "While she does so, Amila I want you to unwrap Hana from your dress. Nice and slow. Show off her assets for me." Victor was vague in his orders to Katya, for he wanted to see how she would do without his guidance. His dark eyes went to Yandes, but said nothing. Just to remind her he knew she was still there, but to leave her dangling hopeless at what he had planned for her. His eyes then slid back to the naked form of Katya, to await his pleasure.

 

[Sadiah]

"…Amila here, will take both punishments."



Amila stopped breathing. Her body shuddering on his lap, his dark voice ringing in her ears, vibrating throughout her body. She lost all semblance to the cloak of bravery she had been wrapping around herself ever since the battle broke out this morning. Despite her tears she had still clung to it, trying to be brave for her friends, for her dead family, for herself.



That was all gone now as she jerked, his hands snapping her legs closed. She flushed as she felt the wetness on the inside of her thighs. It was astonishing how quickly the warm, unsettlingly pleasant sensations of his fingers toying between her thighs was replaced with terrified panic.



"No! Oh please, no! Please, I am your wife! Please don't hurt me!" She shrieked. Used her rank as a shield, something she had never done before in her life. Then again, she had lived a contented and safe life up till now. Fear and desperation made people do vile things, like pull rank on their best friends. She writhed and screeched with no shame as he so easily flipped her over his knee, terror making her voice high and shrill. She was a doll in his hands, easily overwhelmed despite her panic.



Hana cried, her soft little heart breaking for her mistress.



"Oh! Please don't hurt her!" Her fingers twisted the lovely, sensual dress as she fought the instinct to run to protect poor Amila.



It was all Yandes could do not to betray the relief sliding through her body and guilt stabbed at her heart. He was going to hurt Amila, and she felt horrible for poor Amila. But she rejoiced for herself. Even though her shoulders ached abominably and her fingers were threatening to cramp, at least it was not HER being punished.



As soon as the attention shifted off her and onto Amila, Katya stopped dancing.



All three spectators gasped as his powerful hand ruthlessly ripped Amila's nightdress. Amila howled in humiliated despair.



"Noooooo! Pleeeasse!!! Someone help me!!!"



She did not give away her brother, but prayed he would launch himself out from under the bed and fly to her rescue. Her thoughts of rescue were ripped away at the first crack of his heavy hand on her soft asscheek. It HURT! Far worse than she expected. She bellowed, the shocked sound of pain tearing through the room. The blows fell fast and hard, her screams turning hysterical as she struggled to get away. Fingers clawing at his leg, hips twisting violently, her reddening ass bouncing and jiggling with her frantic attempts at flight. All the girls were crying now, but none so enthusiastically as the terrified young Queen. Any guards standing outside the door could be forgiven for thinking the King was slaughtering the Queen, painting the bedroom with her blood.



Amila was not a pretty crier. By the time he was done bruising her poor ass, she was a blubbering wreck. Her silky white-gold hair a tangled mess, dampened from her tears. Her face red, streaked with fresh and drying tears. Pretty blue eyes and her nose swollen. She hit the floor with a painful sounding thud and curled up in a defensive little ball, hiding her fierce blush as cool air slid between her naked legs and the wetness it cooled there reminded her that her body was still interested in the brutal man that was now her husband and king.



Katya froze when the monster of a man came straight to her, certain she had earned some horrible punishment for stopping dancing. His arm snagged her, jerking her closer to him. Her soft naked body pinned to his side as he petted her naked breast. She stiffened, having realized this man seemed to enjoy their tears and determined not to give him the pleasure of her own tears. Offering him no reaction other than passive oedience, allowing him to touch her without giving a response. Success! He left her with seeming disinterest, moving on to Hana.



Now it was Hana's turn to endure his approach. She couldn't help but take a few frightened half steps back as he prowled his way towards her. She looked up into his greedy eyes for only a moment before her eyes dropped, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. Her skin tingled under his touch, her nipples tightening under the dress. She didn't WANT to feel the way he made her feel. Didn't want to feel the warmth, the excitement, wanting more of his touch. It felt disloyal, especially with poor Amila still crying at the foot of the chair he had just beaten her on. But she couldn't help but whimper when his giant paw of a hand enclosed her asscheek and squeezed, his fingers searing her skin through the obscenely thin silky layers. Hers was not a whimper for mercy. Hana didn't really want mercy. No, this was a throaty little whimper of reluctant pleasure. As if the soft sound she made needed further investigating, his fingers twisted in her hair, jerking her back. A gasp exploding out of her lips as he bent her body like a bow. Pupils wide and unfocused as she stared up at him, wet heat pooling between her legs. How could she want a man she detested so much? And why did his praise make her shiver with longing? Why did his promise of his seed make her melt between her thighs, stickiness seeping out of her?



His lips made her forget her confusion. Stealing her breath. Her arms flew up, hands grasping at his arm as she shuddered under that hot, demanding mouth. Strength and power oozed from his body, making her feel weak and powerless in such a delicious way.

Amila was definitely not jealous. In fact, she was relieved his attention was off her. It gave her time to gather her shattered self together. Sniffling, wiping away her tears, trying to hold the scraps of her nightdress together. She kept a wary eye on her husband, peeking at the bed but seeing no evidence of her brother hiding underneath. It was a large bed. During frequent times her friends spent the night here it easily slept four girls with plenty of room to spare. A soft muffled mewling sound from Hana drew her eyes to the mercenary king and her maid. It sounded like Hana was…but no…Hana could not possibly be LIKING what the monster was doing to her. She looked at Katya, whose narrowed eyes were focused on Hana. Yandes still silently weeping, poor girl.



Hana's squeal snatched her eyes from Yandes in just enough time to catch Hana as the girl stumbled into her. Amila stood, and just like that she was clutching the remnants of her nightdress that fell away from her body. She and Hana stood side by side, wide eyes watching their tormenter. When his fat swollen cock was revealed all four girls gasped in unified dread awe. But Hana and Amila both felt a stirring of interest, their cheeks flushing as they openly stared. Yandes quickly averted her eyes, terror and disgust roiling in her belly. Tears welled up in Katya's eyes at his demand.



Katya had a secret. She had a secret lover, a young officer in the Guard who was probably dead now. Their stolen moments were few and she was still a virgin, but this barbarian's cock was not the first one Katya would suck. The thought of kneeling at this monster's feet and sucking him made her want to vomit. There was none of the bone deep love and affection that had made the act such a sweet one with her lover. Anger flashed in her dark brown eyes, but she was not fool enough to resist. Fighting him, trying to flee, those were things she never once considered. Those impulses had long ago been trained out of her, as they had been trained out of her other young friends. Obedience to those who had guardianship of them was drilled into Thianian noblewomen from their first year. Rightfully or not, the Mercenary King held guardianship of them, and must be obeyed.



So, fighting back tears, Katya knelt at his feet. Trembling with despair and revulsion as she wrapped her fingers around the thick root of his cock. Lifting it to her mouth, wrapping succulent lips around him and suckling like a babe at the teat. She did not know it, but even her small bit of experience was obvious to a knowing man. Like her lover had taught her, she rubbed her tongue against the underside. Tears starting to leak down her cheeks as she quickly settled into a rhythm shared by her stroking hand and suckling mouth. She was somewhat startled at how different he was from her lover. Bigger, for one thing. Stretching her jaw wider. But his skin tasted different. Wilder. Muskier. Still soft though, plush velvet wrapped around a core of steel. The tears stung in her eyes as she bitterly remembered her lover, probably even now being flung into some burning pile of bodies as she was forced to pleasure the man who had caused his death. Her crying made it impossible to breath through her nose and she slid her lips off him, sucking in a wet breath of air.



Hana and Amila blinked at him, bewildered by his demand. Both girls blushing prettily as they looked at each other in consternation, then back at him. Their older friend kneeling at their conqueror's feet. Amila was simply confused by her feelings – pity for Katya, shame and embarrassment for them all but especially herself, and that bewildering ache between her legs as she watched Katya's lips sliding up and down his thickening cock. But Hana…Hana was jealous. Candy pink tongue unconsciously licking her own lips as Katya swallowed that fascinating dick. Hana's fingers ached to touch it, her mouth watered. She was a virgin, had never even seen a naked man before but she was firmly convinced this man was the most beautiful man in existence. She shouldn't think that. He was a horrible man, had beaten her best friend, was shaming poor Katya. But she couldn't help herself, couldn't help wishing it was HER and not Katya with her mouth on him. How would he taste? How would it feel, to have that thing that moved like it was alive on her tongue? Her eyes betrayed her hunger as beside her, Amila nervously tried to obey the command given to her.



Amila had no idea what to do. What assets, and how to show them off? She suspected the assets were Hana's breasts, and her own cheeks blushed furiously at the idea of it. But he wanted Hana naked, like all the rest of them except Yandes. Yandes, whose quiet weeping and contorted body tore at her heart. Yandes had never looked more lovely though. Slender and wilted, her firm young breasts thrust out as she flicked her eyes to her persecutor, trembling when his heavy gaze turned towards her. The promise of pain ringing in her mind's ear as she dropped her eyes, swallowing back her vomit. She tried to ignore the soft sounds of Amila untying one of the small knots hidden in the folds of Hana's dress. Transparent silk dropped. Fluttering loosely around Hana's bare legs. A brief flash of a naked hip. Hana's inquisitve eyes riveted on Katya's slurping lips clamped tightly around his throbbing cock.



Amila's eyes anxiously sought out those of her husband for assurance. Desperate to please him, and ashamed of that desperation. Her hand slid between Hana's warm breasts, seeking out the second knot. Fingers edging under tightly wrapped silk. Tugging the knot loose. More silk drifting free as it unwrapped from her waist, this time giving him a tantalizing peek of the sides of Hana's breasts. Soft creamy skin exposed under the swirling crimson silks.



Under the bed, Ivo tried to ignore his hard cock. The wet sounds of Katya slurping on the bastard's cock was enough to make him cum in his pants. And fucking Hana…he had seen his little sister's maid a few times and thought her to be a pretty thing. But seeing her in that fucking dress….



When he took the throne, he would take all the girls to his bed. Well, except his sister. That was too much even for him. But he would fuck the other three bitches raw, that was for damned sure. He gripped his knife hard. It was a good knife, and Ivo was a trained warrior. Some would argue a cowardly one who had abandoned his family and hidden in his little sister's room, but he was trained nonetheless. His knife had a 7 inch blade, serrated and curved. One last time, he went over his plan. Silent exit from under the bed. A stab to the kidneys first. The throat would be ideal but more than likely the fucker would be looking down, possibly deflecting a blade with his chin. So kidneys first, then if he could the artery behind the knee. But a good stab in the liver would result in heavy bleeding and likely incapacitate the man quickly, even with adrenaline running. He had thought to wait till the man was balls deep in one of the girl's cunts, but a mouth would do as well. His attention would be diverted. Soundlessly, Ivo rolled out from under the bed. Springing to his feet only a few steps from behind the man. Fuck, the bastard was big. He lunged, dagger out, viciously and expertly cutting towards the man's exposed back.

Ivo was definitely a well trained warrior - nothing less could be expected from the son of a king. But he had been trained among warriors, not among frightened young girls. As soon as he rolled out from under the bed, the jittery eyes of all three girls, Katya's vision blocked by his powerful body - flew to to the young prince. A half second for them to realize what they had done, and then all three eyes immediately jerked away.

 

[Valken]

His pretty little wife took the announcement of her punishment as well as any spoiled Princess who had likely never been told no in her life would have. The blonde shrieked and pleaded with Victor as he moved her lithe little body within his lap, positioning her over his knee. Despite her attempts, Victor as a successful warlord for most his life had no issue with physically restraining his tiny wife, and holding her still bent over his knee even as she tried to squirm free. As Victor began the spanking his wife truly began screaming. He watched as the pale, firm flesh of her ass cheeks as they jiggled and turned red from the abuse he gave them. From the corner of his eye he could see the figures of the three other girls remaining stock still in silent horror. The blonde's cries of terror and pain did nothing to hinder Victor from dealing out the girl's punishment.

As Victor pushed his blubbering, royal wife off his lap and focused his attention onto the other girls he saw that all three of them were crying in stark terror. Katya however, as Victor approached her visibly toughened herself up. He saw a hint of determination grow on her face as he fondled her young tit. On any other day Victor would have relished the thought of breaking the slim brunette and forcing her stiff body to contour against his own. As it was though, Victor had an entire buffet of young flesh to choose from, and all three other girls were proving to be more entertaining than young Katya.

The only peasant among the girls Victor collected, Hana, backed away from the warlord as he approached her. Not far, only a few quick, tiny steps that allowed Victor to catch the tiny girl quite easily. The teenage servant was easily manoeuvred by Victor's hands, turning her body just as he pleased. Victor noticed the girl was hot under the thin silks she wore, her body pushing back and embracing his touches. She let out a whimper as his large hand groped her firm backside, not one of fear but of pleasure. Victor had spent a great amount of his life around people who were either scared, or pleasured by him, and he enjoyed the emotions he inflicted on his partners. Little Hana was being turned on at being under Victor's dominance. With her head twisted back, and their lip locked together, his tongue exploring her mouth, Victor could feel, more than hear the little, pleased whine coming from the girl's throat.

Victor watched as his young, blonde wife just barely caught the servant as he pushed the young girl towards the other. The Warlord King watched the four teenage girls as he undid his trousers, and ordered the eldest of the group to suck his cock. All four girls prettily gasped as his cock was exposed to their virgin eyes. Amila and Hana looked upon it with awe, and curiosity if he was not mistaken. The brutality of his wife's earlier punishment slowly clearing of her pretty face as her tears dried and her attention taken by the new toy Victor presented the group. Poor Yandes, arms still bound looked away as quick as she could. Katya's eyes focused on her duty, new tears forming in the dark orbs as she made her way just in front of him and fell to her knees.

The brunette took no time to explore his cock with his eyes; her hand coming up and taking a soft grip at the base of his large cock to guide the tip to her pretty lips. With his eyes looking down upon her he saw the tears falling down her cheeks as her hand and head began bobbing up and down. He could feel her tongue ticking the underside of his cock, not only because her jaw was stretched wide to fit him in her mouth, but because she clearly had some experience sucking cock. Despite her earlier statement, the eldest of the girls was not as virginal as she claimed. Lucky for the brunette, she was sucking his cock, and Victor had no intention of stopping her to confront her on the lie. Instead his left hand reached out and he began to gently pet her brown hair, gently urging her to take him a little deeper. He would get to the brutal fucking he enjoyed most; but for the moment he was enjoying the soft sucking from the young noblewoman.

Victor's dark eyes went up to the two girls not bound on their knees as they began to follow his commands. The blonde began undressing the slightly darker hair girl, untying knots and shifting the thin dress to give hints of the young servant's pale flesh. Just as the dress was soon to fall from the servant's slim shoulder both of the girl's eyes shot to Victor's right, behind him. Even Yandes, who was doing her best to keep her eyes away from everything in the room jerked her eyes behind Victor.

There was no thought process in the warlord's mind. He didn't consider what had caught the girl's attention so suddenly, and ponder what he should do about it. He didn't even register that there might be a threat. The girl's eyes moved, and Victor's body moved by instinct. Victor was near naked, with only his trousers hanging on just under his knees. So as he turned to the right to face the unknown he used the only thing he had to defend himself. His hand tightened in Katya's hair and pulled her soft lips of his cock as he turned, thrusting her head towards the threat as if to use her as a shield.

He felt a hot flash of pain on his side, just under his ribs. His body still reacting on instinct, barely registering that there was a man behind him, thrusting out a curved blade that slid across his skin. His right elbow flung out, using the man's own momentum as he attempted to stab Victor to crush his nose with a sickening crunch. The crunch would barely be heard however, as the young noblewoman in Victor's hand began screaming; not in tortured pain as Amila had done earlier; but a shriek of pure pain. The King paid no mind to that, his mind having moved to battle mode. Releasing the brunette's hair he caught the man's forearm with his left hand, then slammed down on his elbow with his right. He felt the bone crack and break underneath his hand. As the dagger was still falling to the ground Victor thrust his right elbow back again, this time aiming higher and slamming into the man's forehead. The man's body went limp, knocked out, and Victor released him to let him fall to the ground.

His eyes scanned the room quickly, to look for further threats. Seeing none, his dark eyes went down to his right side. The hardened skin of his waist was cut open; not deeply. As he inspected it he recognized it as little more than a flesh wound, just the muscle of his side was cut. Still the wound was cut, and would add another scar to his body. Knowing that he was not about to die, Victor glanced towards Amila and Hana, the only two in the room that might pose some threat to be sure they were remaining out of the way. Satisfied, Victor checked the man, to see that he was incapacitated. Still breathing, through harshly through a bloody, broken and crushed nose. Victor rolled him onto his back, to let him slowly choke on his own blood.

Next Victor knelt down beside the screaming Katya. Her head was a mess of blood and hair from the squirming and wriggling she had been doing. He caught her wrists in one hand, pinning them to the floor. His other hand grabbed onto her chin, and twisted her head so he could inspect the wound she had suffered. From beside the right of her nose was a long cut across her cheek – Victor could see her teeth through the bloody opening. The cut continued back, having also sliced her ear clean in half. Victor made the decision to cut his losses. He let go of her wrists his hand instead going to the top of her head. With the hold on her chin and head Victor jerked his hands. Katya's neck snapped and the room was plunged into deafening silence as the noblewoman died.

Standing, Victor grimaced at all the blood that had pooled around where he had been enjoying the pleasure Katya had been giving him. All over the floor, his sides, his legs. The girl's writhing had turned the room into quite the gruesome scene. While Victor was not bothered by the sight of blood, it was not something he was fond of, especially when he enjoying the companionship of a new bride. Victor looked up towards his wife, and her maid. "Stay." Positive they would obey the command Victor reached down and pulled his trousers up, his cock still semi-hard from all the adrenaline. Tying his trousers as he went to the door he opened it and looked out.

"Stallone, come." Victor barked down the hallway, towards the squadron leader of his personal guard. Moments later a surprisingly young-looking soldier stepped inside. Shock filled the guardsmen's eyes as he took in the scene – three naked girls, one dead in a pool of blood. One more girl, stripped from the waist up and elbows tightly bound behind her. The would be assassin lie beside the girl upon his back, face almost unrecognizable from being crushed by Victor's elbow. Although shock appeared in the guardsman's eyes his face remained stoic. "Find the men who bright my wife to this room earlier in the day, and hang them for not finding an assassin." Stallone nodded, then stepped outside the room to issue orders to one of the other guards.

"Is that the Prince?" A third guard, from the hallway had spoken up. Victor glanced towards the assassin, who was now soundly choking. Victor motioned for the guard to enter, and to check. This guard, a brown-skinned man dressed in light fur-lined leather armour from the Swamps of Maddyn jogged into the room to kneel beside the assassin, uncaring for the blood, or naked woman. "It is, Boulder. The missing Prince Ivo." The man looked back towards Victor, for orders. Victor looked towards his naked wife, keeping his eyes on her as he issued his command. "Take him out front, and mount his head beside his brothers." A fourth guardsmen entered the room, trotting over to the Maddyn warrior and together they lifted the Prince up, and carried him from the room.

"It occurs to me -" Victor spoke to the girls, stepping deeper into the room, towards Yandes. "That you all knew he was here." Victor came to a stop, standing behind Yandes. "For your disloyalty to your husband, Katya has died." Victor then grabbed Yandes' hair and pulled her up onto her feet. "As further punishment, Yandes will be sent to the tents. Instead of servicing my cock alone, she will satisfy dozens in a day, for the rest of her life." Victor shoved the still bound Yandes towards Stallone, who handed the half naked girl off to yet another guardsmen. The hallway was filling up now that word of an assassination attempt was spread among his ranks. Victor then glanced down at the still bleeding wound on his side before looking back up at his teenage wife. "Take a moment to think about your loyalties, and how you act in the future." Victor waved his hand towards Katya's body. "I will send for you shortly." With that Victor let the room, letting the door close behind him and his guards, leaving the two girls alone in the Queen's bedchamber.

Almost two hours later, now late into the night the bedroom door slowly opened. A servant man stepped inside, not a man of the mercenary army, but a servant that had been working the castle his entire life. He was followed by a guard from the Warlord's army. "Your Majesty" The man spoke with a soft voice, averting his terrified eyes from both the girls, and the horror scene left on the floor. "I am so terribly sorry but I come with instructions from the Boul- from the King, your majesty." The man stumbled over his words, clearly terrified to be giving orders to the Princess, now queen. "You are too, too dress in the pink dress? He said you would know which one. And, and, your maid, it to keep the dress she has." The servant licked his lips and glanced over at the guard, who was openly watching the two teenagers. Small tears began to slip from the man's eyes. "I'm so sorry your majesty, I'm, I'm also supposed to tell you both to put on, um, he said enticing underwear." The servant paused to collect his thoughts. "He said if they don't please him, you would be, um punished your majesty. I'm so sorry." Tears began to openly fall from the servant's eyes. "Please your majesty. He said that the two of you are to prepare the bathing chambers for him. That if, if the water isn't warm before he gets there that he will, he will-" The servant glanced at the blood that surrounded Katya's body and cut off. "If the two of you do not have a bath ready before the King arrives, I am to kill this man." The guard spoke for the first time, his eyes still leering at the two girls. "Please your majesty, I beg you, Please."

--

Victor had found the bathing chambers earlier in the day, after he had sacked the city. In the Royal Wing of the castle it was a large pool in the center of a well-lit, tiled room. The warlord had been told the water was kept warm by coals kept against the bottom of the pool from a floor below. It was an extravagant contraption he had never experienced in his life. Since the bedroom he had intended to sleep in was spoiled, and he was covered in blood Victor figured a bath was well-intentioned. In truth, the girls would have very little to prepare for the King, as other servants, having heard the orders issued rushed to prepare the bathing chambers for the Queen and Maid's arrival.

 

[Sadiah]

Ivo knew he was in trouble the second his knife slashed the girl's face, barely cutting the mercenary. He snarled an obscenity, twisting his arm to try to drive the knife from the screaming girl into the mercenary, but it was too late. A brutal elbow smashed into his nose and he bellowed in pain, the sound covered by screams from all the girls – but especially poor Katya. Struggling for his balance, Ivo had no way to avoid the elbow driving to his forehead. His last thought was regret for failing and hatred for his conqueror.

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Katya hated him. Loathed him with every fiber of her being. Every pull of her mouth on his hot flesh made her want to vomit. She prayed for it all to end, but it did not end how she thought it would. Savage fingers yanked her off his cock, the wet plopping sound obscenely loud in the room. Sharp movement, then unbearable blinding pain swallowed her up. She was screaming, howling in agony. Unaware of the lunging activity around her, unaware of her shrieking friends, unaware of anything but the horrific pain that burned in her face. For an eternity she lay there writhing in bloody torment until he leaned over her. His hard hands twisting her head around. She saw something flicker in his eyes, and then his hands jerked her head sharply. Darkness closed around her eyes, her suffering stopped. Her last thought was of gratitude to the man she hated.

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The guards out in the hallway had been hearing the whimpering cries of the girls ever since the Mercenary King had stepped into the bedroom. They stayed a discrete distance from the doorway but they had sharp ears. A few smirking grins had been exchanged. But then an ear-piercing animalistic shriek of agony tore through the closed door, followed by a bevy of terrified wails. The guards lifted an eyebrow, speculative glances being slid in each other's direction. The Mercenary King seemed to enjoy making pretty little things cry and scream, but THAT sort of scream was one to break records.

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Amila could not even begin to process the horror of it all. Her friend being flung in front of her lunging brother. Blood – so much blood. She could not see all the damage from where she was, but she saw a glimpse of white teeth through what should have been Katya's cheek. The brother she had looked up to her whole life falling just as quickly, his hard heavy body crashing to the floor, his mouth slack and eyes closed. The mercenary crouching, looking down at his wound dripping with blood, then ferocious hard eyes falling on Amila and Hana. The two girls were clutching at each other, wailing in terror and horror. Yandes had fallen over on her side, sobbing, unable to see what was going on. His eyes terrified Amila and Hana though, the sheltered girls had never seen a warrior in battle mode and they cringed back from him though he made no move towards them.


When he crouched over Katya Amila and Hana stopped their screams. Amila praying he would be able to help her friend. The help was not what she expected, and when he snapped Katya's neck with a sickening crunch, Amila and Hana froze in horror. The only sounds in the room Yande's soft sobbing. They were almost relieved at his command, it told them what to do in a situation they had no idea how to handle. They stayed. Yandes because she had no choice, having fallen on her side and unable to move. Amila and Hana still clinging to each other for support. Tearful eyes tracking him as he went to the door and summoned the soldiers.



Amila gasped at his demand her former escorts be hung, pity clenching at her heart. She had hated them, but that did not mean she wanted them dead. There had been too much death today. She said nothing though, content to remain outside the immediate focus of the soldiers and her husband. Until her now half conscious brother was identified. Her stricken face looked to her husband as he pronounced her brother's death sentence, her gasp loud in the room.



"Oh no, please…" She whimpered. The sound seemed to draw his attention to her. Hana took a half step backwards from the intense focus of the new king, and Amila suddenly felt horribly alone, the sole remaining target of her husband's fury. She froze, watching helplessly as her brother was carried out. Tears dribbling down her cheeks again as the king went to Yandes, jerking her upright.



For the first time Yandes saw Katya's body. She had heard the horrific screams, screams that had stopped after the stomach-turning crunching sound. Her breath caught in her breath as she stared at the naked girl lying in a pool of blood, hardly hearing what the man holding her up was saying. It only sunk in after he pushed her to another man whose iron hands seized her, pulling her out of the room. The hallways was full of hard male bodies, their curious heated eyes falling on her naked breasts. Yandes was unable to process everything, her eyes dazed and bewildered as she was dragged down the hallway. Cruel fingers reached out, grasping a soft breast and squeezing hard. She screamed, seeing another wicked grin as someone smacked another breast. Her escort said and did nothing to stop the men from groping her as she was dragged down to the end of the hallway and out through another door.



"Shut up, bitch."

The command silenced her. Her terrified heart beating loudly, thrumming in her ears as she was dragged down hall after hall. Finally flung into a room, the door slammed shut behind her. She heard a bar falling into place across the door. She looked around frantically, only relaxing when she realized she was alone. Alone in a small servants bedroom. But it was clean and neat with a hay stuffed bed in a corner, clean blankets, a clean bucket for waste, even a small trunk that upon inspection was empty except for two clean blankets. A small table with two chairs sat in another corner. She took one of the blankets and wrapped it around herself, huddling on the bed and sobbing until she fell into a fitful sleep.

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Amila and Hana were left alone in the Princess's bedroom, stricken and silent, staring at the blood soaked corpse of their friend. They cried together until Amila finally whispered,



"We should take care of her."



They bathed Katya's body as best they could, not having the strength to lift her out of the circle of sticky drying blood on the floor. They covered her with a thick luxurious covering from Amila's bed. Then dressed themselves, choosing simple dark colored gowns.



"I hate that dress." Hana stared at the sexy dress she had chosen earlier that now lay in a discarded puddle on the floor with loathing. Amila laid her head on her friend's shoulder. The silence was thick for a long time, until Hana finally asked in a trembling voice,



"What are we going to do?"



"There isn't anything we can do anymore, but as we are told. If my father and brothers could not defeat him…"



Amila couldn't speak anymore, her voice breaking off in a sob. Another long silence as both girls considered their situation.



Amila was alone. Her entire family, as far as she knew, was dead. There would be no one rushing to her rescue now. Panic lurked around the edges of her heart at the thought of being left to the questionable mercy of her new husband.

"At least you are married to him, Amila. I don't even have that saving me…" Hana's whisper trembled. Amila grabbed her friend's hand, squeezing it.



"You have me. Hana. I will do everything I can to keep you safe. We will get through this together. Maybe we can even help Yandes. We will figure this out. For now though, we need to be obedient. I suspect his patience is at an end after today." She paused, then gave a half hysterical bark of laughter. "Gods, has it just been one day?"



"It feels like forever." Hana mournfully agreed. She thought briefly of confessing to Amila how much she had enjoyed the touch of the Mercenary King, but decided to keep that to herself. Amila would not understand. Gods, even she did not understand.



They were still tearfully commiserating when the servant entered with the guard behind him. Hana recognized the servant as the man who had been in charge of the kitchens and serving girls. Amila had never once seen the man, but she listened quietly. Her cheeks flamed at the instructions he delivered, humiliation burning deep. He had sent a SERVANT to tell her these intimate things. The servant had been respectful though, his distress at having to deliver such a message obvious. The guard however, had not one kept his heated eyes off the girls, openly leering at them as if they were common serving girls, not the new queen and her personal maid. Everything about this infuriated Amila. It was needlessly cruel to threaten the life of the hapless servant. And to send such a loathsome creature as the guard….



She stood, her slender body stiff. Shoulders squaring, chin lifting.



"You need not fear, we will see to it that your life is not in danger. Please go and see to it that the fires are lit for the water and bathing supplies are brought there. You may both leave now." She held the eyes of the ogling guard when she dismissed the pair, letting him see her contempt for him. The servant bowed low, gratitude shining in his eyes before he left the room. The guard leaving behind him, more slowly and reluctant. Only when the door closed behind them did Amila relax.



"Alright Hana, let's do this. We can save at least one person's life tonight."



"What are we going to do for underwear?" Hana asked, twisting her fingers anxiously in her lap.



"My marriage chest." Amila pronounced. "I am married now, so I can use it. We aren't that far off in sizes, you can wear something from there."



The chest was dragged out from the depths of Amila's wardrobe closet, the girls huffing and puffing. Silky lacy things were sorted through until both girls had selected something they hoped the new king would approve of.



"We are dressing ourselves for our own rape. And it seems silly to dress so extravagantly just to go to the bathing room." Hana's tone was disgruntled as she eyed the alarmingly skimpy nude and black bra and panty combination that was really the only thing suitable to wear underneath the scandalous dress she had chosen earlier – much to her current regret.



Amila's lips thinned. "We don't have a choice, Hana. Unless we choose death, and I'm not going to allow either of us to do that. We are going to survive this. Women have been raped for centuries and lived and thrived after, we won't be any different." She had chosen something more modest than Hana's, but stunningly beautiful and exquisitely made. It had, in fact, been made specifically for her wedding night. And this was, in fact, her wedding night. Tears stung her eyes as she looked over the two of them in the mirror. It was definitely not the wedding nor the wedding night she had dreamed of.



"Come on, we need to get going." They dressed hastily, but carefully. Taking a few moments to fix their hair before they went to the door, their eyes averting from the form of Katya's cold corpse under the linens. Taking a deep breath, Amila flung open the door. The leering guard from earlier was gone, but two other guards waited outside her door, straightening when they saw her.



"We are going to the bathing chambers, at the instruction of my husband." Her term for the hated man was deliberate, reminding them who she belonged to. Their eyes had already been sliding down her body, but her reminder worked. They immediately averted their eyes as she sailed off down the hall, an anxious Hana trailing behind her, uncomfortable in her dress. The footsteps of the guards followed them all the way to the bathing chambers, but Amila ignored them.



The guards remained outside the door when Amila and Hana shut themselves into the bathing room. It was a simple name for an exquisite piece of workmanship, with the pool surrounded by arches, the tile helping keep the room humid, the air soft and damp. The water was clear, gentle steam already rising from it. Amila tested the water with her finger. The temperature was perfect. By now the fires under the pool floor would be out, hot coals keeping the water warm. The coals would be kept going as long as the pool was in use.



The door to the bathing room opened and the girls jerked around anxiously, but it was not their worst nightmare. The Mercenary King had not arrived.



"Aunt Leslie!" Hana ran to her aunt, who set down the heavy baskets she was carrying and hugged Hana tightly, stroking her hair.



"Your Majesty" The woman bowed to Amila, who trembled at the unfamiliar greeting. It was yet another reminder that her family was dead.



"My deepest sympathies for your loss, Your Majesty. I know you are feeling very alone now, but know that there are still many of us loyal to you and your family. For now, you must endure, but there is support for you and we will contact you again in the near future. Take heart. We will see the mercenary's head cut off his body, just as he did your father. But for now, make him start to trust you. The more he trusts you both, the more likely we will succeed."



Amila's hand flew to her mouth, tasting bile. Her father had been beheaded?



Leslie's face softened. "I am so sorry, my dear. I hate that you and Hana have to suffer under the bastard. Live through it knowing he will suffer and die for what he has done. What he is doing. I must go now though." She handed off the baskets of soft towels, soaps, lotions, and oils to Hana before scurrying out of the bathing room.



Amila straightened, her hands nervously soothing the skirt of her dress. Make him trust her…that was easier said than done after poor Ivo and Katya from earlier. He would not believe an immediate change of heart, she must gradually begin to change her behavior. She watched numbly as Hana selected a pine scented oil, something masculine, and poured some into the pool. Soft towels were stacked at each side of the pool, within easy reach. Then both girls sat on a tiled stone bench and quietly waited, clutching each other's hands.