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Mercy For The Condemned (Houdini x Anjeru)

H

Houdini

Supernova
Joined
Mar 18, 2009
Thomas Foxe stood at his post inside the Tower of London. The King’s most trusted axeman, he had a busy day in store tomorrow. The Queen herself was holed up at the top of the White Tower, having just been sentenced to die earlier in the day. The charges of adultery and treason were tenuous; no one knew if they were founded or not. The King had a well-known new mistress, though, so her chances never seemed fantastic. As he stood at his post with two guards, a Priest descended the steps, having just performed the last rites on the Queen.

Thomas was a lifetime servant of the crown, having spent his earlier years in the service of the royal navy. He’d ascended the ranks quickly, but after serving his six years, had no more desire of a life at sea. Returning to dry land, he used a family connection to land a position as a beefeater, guarding the tower and all inside it. Now, at twenty-nine years of age, as a reward for his faithful duties, he’d been appointed the chief executioner. It wasn’t exactly a job which was highly sought after. The King had been known to have executioners themselves executed if they didn’t do a clean job and sever the head entirely in one shot. The King didn’t like unnecessary gore, after all.

He was becoming increasingly disenchanted at the state of the kingdom, though. The royals seemed more interested in satisfaction of their own greedy desires than the good of the people. His own cousin, in fact, had been executed last month for some nebulous reason, an outrage. It seemed like tyranny was becoming the state of the day. He ran his finger through his shoulder length brown hair that he wore with a closely trimmed beard. A little over six feet, he was a burly man, strong enough to swing the heavy axe with ease, yet he wasn’t heavy.

Three men were always commissioned to guard a prisoner up for execution, and he glanced around at the two guards with him, both youngsters. “It’s my usual routine to go in and speak with the condemned,” he told the other two. “I like to tell them what to expect, maybe taunt a little bit. Surely you won’t mind if I go in alone and talk to her,” he added with a smile. As they agreed, he ascended the steps, grinning as he wondered what he might behold as he visited the Queen herself on her last night on earth. Knocking on the door twice (as if she had a choice as to whether she’d accept a visitor), he took out the heavy key and unlocked it.
 
The Queen had been much loved by the people until the King had put her before the courts under false charges. Audrey had never been unfaithful to her husband, but he was determined to get her out of his life. This would ultimately free up the throne and crown for Marialla, the King's newest whore. The Queen was disappointed, as well as distraught. She had thought their marriage had come into a mutual understanding. That, at least, he had come to endear having her as his wife. She should have known better.

Even though the Queen was striking, apparently the King found Marialla more his taste. Audrey's five foot five, one hundred and fifteen pound, frame was pacing the interior of the room she was imprisonsed in. Alas, the fire haired lass of twenty-four winters was destined to die upon the rising of the next day's sun. Despite her stance of respect from the people, no one dared to oppose the King. To question the King was to forfeit your life. No man, servant or lord alike, would risk such a thing.

The King hadn't allowed her her normal attire(it was another one of his ways to sate his twisted sense of humor). She had been reduced to simple servant's attire, at least until the hour of execution - it was meant to further dent away at the Queen's pride and honor. It was as if he were saying - "be regal in that, my love" - in that snide, sarcastic tone he was so well known for.

The priest had just left her and the seriousness of her predicament was beginning to weigh down upon her shoulders. Was she really to die upon the morrow? In god's eyes, she had never faltered but instead of being rewarded, she was being tossed to the dogs by the whim of a fickle king. If she could, she would find a way to return the sentiment but there was no escaping from her tower prison. Her green eyes slid closed as a sigh slid past her supple lips, but were quick to open after hearing the knock at her prison door. It made her want to laugh(really, as if she had a choice to deny them enterance).

"Come in," the Queen murmured as she took seat upon the bed that had been provided to her for her last night on this Earth. The door lock clicked as the key turned the bolt and after a moment, the door opened allowing the guard enterance to her cell. "I have already been issued my last rights. What would you have of me?" she inquired, her head almost cocked up regally, as if she were still seated upon the throne.
 
Thomas opened the door with a grin like a cheshire cat. This was going to be fun, he thought. "Oh, don't worry, my lady," he said with an exaggerated bow. "I'm no priest. I have a different role in your stay here," he said, making a motion like one would when swinging an axe, not leaving much to the Queen's imagination as to his job. He'd never seen the Queen up close, and she didn't look anything like he imagined. She was beautiful, actually, with her pretty red hair, nice delicate frame, and perfect skin. Yet she was dressed as a commoner.

"Is this how you always are attired, my lady?" he continued to tease. "I thought the King does enough plundering that he'd be able to afford you a more decent wardrobe." Prancing over to her, he stood over the bed, hands on his hips and stared down at the forlorn-looking thing. "So there's one thing I need to know before it's too late," he said, making conversation as if they were old friends. But how often, after all, did one get a chance to chat up a monarch as if she were a common peasant. "Everyone wants to know, really. Did you do it?” he asked, still with a big smile like it was a game.
 
Audrey was so used to being given common courtesy and respect. When this man came in here and begun to play his game, she grew very angry, though she knew she had no right to be. Alas, when the sun rose tomorrow, she would be queen no more. "Ah, so you're the one to be my executioner," she said as if she were amused. Still she held her head high. The queen refused to be beaten down, or intimidated. "As for my attire, you can place your inquiry to him. It was at his command that I was stripped and put into commoner's clothe." She drawled.

Eyes watched carefully, almost warily, as he moved to tower over her. Don't let them tread upon you. The queen reminded herself as she came to stand before him, her head tilted up as he was a good deal taller than her. She tightened her lips into a frown and paced away from the man.

After a moment's silence, she snapped around, slender brows crunched together. "I assure you I did no such thing. I commited no sin against God, nor against the crown." Audrey said, shaking her head. "My husband is simply sick of me, I presume, and wishes to free up the throne for his whore." Her fists clenched for a split second(as if the anger had become too much), but didn't stay that way long.

"Why is it you wish to know?" the queen inquired of her executioner. "Why do you come to me now, when on the morrow, you will lop off my head before the eyes of my subjects?"
 
Audrey had quite a regal, dignified and proper attitude about her, Thomas quickly realized. And why not? Though she was a girl younger than he, she was Queen, after all. At least for a few hours more. He was a little amused that she stood up to face him, her body language showing she wasn't intimidated by him in the least. "I see I've touched a nerve there," he replied with a smirk after she'd vehemently denied any unfaithfulness. "Why would I want to know? Obviously you don't get out much, my Queen," he continued, bowing before her almost mockingly again as he used her title.

"If you did, you'd know that you are quite a favorite among the people. Why, there are young girls of twelve who I'd wager would give their little toe for a mere glimpse of you. All that the masses are talking about this eve is whether you've done it and what is to become of you." He rubbed his close beard and thought about why he'd come. To get a glimpse of the Queen, of course. To take what might be his lone opportunity to talk down to a monarch. Why else? "Why am I here? Well, my liege," he began slowly. "It is my responsibility to offer you a last meal," he lied. The King had given explicit orders for Audrey to starve, but she didn't know that, he assumed. "What say you. What would you have?"
 
The Queen wasn't a fool. It was clear to her that her executioner was mocking her and her rank, now that she was doomed to die. There would be no reprocussions for his treatment of her. Not now. Though, if he had dared speak thusly to her before this scandal, he would likely be put into the dungeons, if not killed. An insult to her would have been considered an insult to the King.

His comments did not surprise her, and she did not acknowledge their truthful nature, nor deny them. Being so high in rank among the courts, the subjects had always looked up to her. The young women wanted to be her and a good majority of the male persuasion lusted for her. This wasn't news to the Queen. Perhaps she had been a tad foolish in asking his motives for wanting to know. It was the talk of London, the Queen's supposed betrayel.

"I'll have no meal," she said softly in response. "The King can keep his food. Having personal experience in dealings with the King, I would not be shocked if he ordered the rations to be poisoned." A tinge of bitter amusement in her voice as a hand lifted to push a tumbling locke of red from her face. "Anything else?" she inquired.
 
If a Queen one was a fool, no one would have known. It wouldn’t exactly be publicized; any who’d suggested it would have likely been sent to the dungeons. Some Queens were no doubt sharp, and some dull as a horseshoe, just like everyone else. Thomas knew better than to think the elite were different than anyone else beneath their titles and jewels. This one, though, was apparently not one easily tricked. “I doubt he’d kill you with poison, Your Majesty,” Thomas contradicted her. “It isn’t as if he’ll have to wait long to see the deed done by a method he quite prefers, after all,“ he pointed out with a chuckle. Thomas wasn’t taken by the Queen like some adolescent girl, but there was something about being in the presence of a royal that made one feel….well, privileged. “But if you’d prefer to torture yourself more than even what has been decreed, well… I am but a humble servant of the crown. None to argue with you.”

Thomas turned his back and walked towards the door, the only way out of the dark, fortified tower, leaving Audrey in the glow of her lone candle. “Goodnight, your majesty,” he said as he turned back towards the Queen and gave her yet another little bow. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he started to turn it, stopping just as it began to creak. “Are you not angry with me, Your Majesty? The man who is to dispatch you, come the morn?” He’d expected the lovely royal to spew hatred at him, or something of the like, as often happened when he was in one of his moods to taunt the condemned. He thought perhaps he’d have to have some fun with her, and beat her away as she attacked him. “And what of the King? You are bitter with him, I can tell, but you don’t hate him? Don’t you wish you could… I don’t know, repay him in some way?” Thomas finished a little suggestively, his hand still on the door as if he might leave at any moment.
 
Audrey ignored his comment about the way her husband preferred to kill his prisoners. She knew all to well the King's preferences. Her emerald eyes - that were as entrancing as any jewel - watched as he moved to leave her. Her slim body turned to face him upon hearing his words, the candle light complimenting her milky pale, smooth skin.

He was taunting her, she knew. This Queen was not one of idle thoughts, or a simple mentality. She understood all too well what he was about(as the Queen, she had heard whisperings of his time with the condemned). Softly, her thin, but appealing, lips curled into a smile that was tinged with a hint of sarcastic humor. "I cannot hate you for doing what is required. Your job is to kill me, I do not bear a grudge with you, not for that." She softly at first. Pausing, she lifted her chin haughtily. "However, that you've come here to taunt me does rile my temper."

As if to make a point, she moved to him, as graceful as a swan. "But I am not so stupid as to strike out at you. As a prisoner and not a queen, I know you can lay your hand to me if you should need to. I have had enough beatings for one lifetime," she said, perhaps hinting that maybe the King's twisted sense of humor in regards to her treatment was worse than the people knew. "As for the King, my husband" - the word was snapped out with spite - "I know he will pay for his sins and crimes one day."

She tossed her head to fling her hair behind her slim, petite shoulders. "One can never escape just retrubution," she said defiantly.
 
Thomas grinned as she told him her feelings on things. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that she was the Queen which tainted his judgments, but she was quite alluring. Whether she was attempting to be so or not, that he didn't know. So she called his routine what it was- a mockery. He gasped, exaggerating it just a little bit, when she spoke of beatings. "But- Your Majesty. I can't imagine a man would strike indiscriminately at a woman of your grace and beauty," he exclaimed. "Surely, you exaggerate. Or else perhaps... you deserved it," he suggested quietly with a little chuckle.

Looking into her wonderful green eyes as the candlelight illuminated them, he gave her just a hint of a smile. Reaching up and placing his hand softly on her elbow, (he well knew it was forbidden to touch a royal without cause) he squinted a little and spoke to her again. "But, I'm devastated that you'd think I might come here solely for scornful purposes," he objected. "Perhaps, I too am one of your greatest admirers. Perhaps I'm disenchanted with the King. And would like to... speed up the manner in which he gets his just retribution," he suggesting, thinking on his feet. He hadn't intended to offer the Queen anything at all, but there was something about her that made him not want this (and the next morning) to be his only meeting with her. He'd wait to see what she said before offering anything further, that would be the most wise course, he thought.
 
Her slim auburn brows came together as she heard that she may have deserved her strikes. She would have snapped something back at him, the comment made her that angry, but then he laid his hand upon her elbow. Recoiling just a bit, only indication a slight twitch in her arm before she held it still(she knew he was supposed to touch her - she was still royalty until the morning, but she did not want to strike fire to his temper by throwing his hand off of her).

Audrey doubted that he really was enthralled with her like he suggested. Though, she listened closely to what he had to say about the King. She knew it would be unwise to trust him(he was her executioner, after all), but the prospect of sicking just retribution on the King was a sore temptation indeed.

"What are you getting at?" she questioned rather skeptically with a brow cocked up almost haughtily. Her emerald eyes were watching him closely. His every feature was being scrutinized, searching for any indication of a lie in his words.
 
Thomas smiled when Audrey hinted that she wanted to hear more of what he had in mind. So she wasn't one of these women inclined to think the King was a god, was infallible. She would take revenge in a second, he knew from the look in her brilliant green eyes. He let his hand run up her arm and cup the smooth, milky skin on her cheek. That was definitely forbidden, even more so than the touch of her extremity. "Well, my dear," he began delicately, violating rule after rule, now with his form of address. "The King can't get remarried if it can't be shown that his wife is dead. He'd be excommunicated before he knew it."

He squinted at her a little, studying her expression carefully. What he was suggesting meant taking a huge chance here. It meant putting everything on the line; his life, his job, his friends. Family he didn't have much left to speak of. "What do you say?" he inquired almost softly, letting his fingertips dance down to the underside of her chin, before he let them trail off her soft skin and return to his side.
 
Audrey had to surpress to shrink back from his touch as it traveled from her arm to cup her cheek. He was violating all the rules established by the King for when one were to address royalty, but she could not reprimand him. Even when he discarded her title, to use a pet name. She had no right, especially if she wanted to know what plan he had in mind. Those exquisite eyes widened a tad with curiousity, then narrowed suspiciously.

"You have a valid point," she mused, surpressing a shiver as he trailed his fingers across her silk smooth skin before dropping from her completely. "But why would you do this? You'd risk everything. He would kill your loved ones, plunder your home, and safe to assume, you would no longer be in his employ." She knew she was pointing out the obvious, but she wondered if he understood the severity of such a plot. "What would you stand to gain from this?"
 
Thomas smiled back at her as the beginnings of an agreement began to he laid. He moved away from the door now, walking over to her cot and sitting down, motioning with his hand for the fair Queen to do the same. "Your Majesty," he said with a little smile, but not rudely. "I have no family left to speak of. I have a home yes, but nothing I can't leave behind. To be honest, I have of late been regretful of being in the employ of the crown. It seems that... I no longer agree with most actions of my employer," he explained rather tactfully.

"Now for the second part of your question. I don't think it's that hard to understand," he answered with a smile. "I know every part of this tower, the surrounding walls, and the country beyond. We'd leave without an incident. But that is where you enter the picture. The way I see it, I'd be doing you quite the favor," he explained with a little grin. "So, in return," he started slowly, running his fingers through the long brown hair on his head in thought. "I'd expect you to come with me, to stay with me. I'd protect you, and you'd do anything I ask. Anything," he repeated for emphasis with a devilish smile. The opportunity to have a beautiful, silky skinned, Queen at his absolute disposal was worth any risk. That he was sure of, and he didn't see why Audrey didn't understand that.
 
Audrey eyed the man as he moved to sit upon what had been the contraption in which she was to slumber, tortured by the looming morning that would ultimately spell out her demise. That, however, no longer seemed to be the case. Her curvy hips moved as she went to seat herself beside the man(though not directly by him, making sure to put a little space between their bodies). She listened closely to what he had to say, mulling it over carefully in her mind. Audrey was no fool. She had been subject to the King's whims and desires for six years now, knew what men thought of when they laid their eyes upon her beautiful visage. She was an object of lust, she knew that. Never before though, had she known anyone to risk their very life for a chance to claim her.

Audrey thought carefully before turning her eyes to the man seated beside her. "Then I would be trading my immediate death for a sort of concentual imprisonment," she said softly. She could agree to his terms and attempt an escape at a later, more convinient time. After all, the Queen was not about to subject herself so easily to the persuasions of yet another man who could just as easily betray her as the king had.

All Audrey had to do was play along. She had been doing that as the king's wife - she didn't see how this would be that different. Though, she knew she would have to give him some sort of reward if they made it out of here alive. If being the key word.
 
Thomas looked over at Audrey, placing his hand on her knee. He was extremely nervous, now that the plan was so close to happening. If caught, he’d doubtless receive a worse death than a simple execution. This was the worst kind of crime he was about to commit, an outright defiance of the crown and unfaithfulness to his trusted position. This woman was worth it, he reassured himself, glancing at her soft curves visible even beneath her peasant-like attire. The gentle light illuminated her, making her look like some kind of fire-haired angel.

“I wouldn’t call it an imprisonment,” he suggested, rubbing her knee a little bit. “Let’s just call it an agreement that will benefit us both,” he continued with a big smile, showing all his teeth. “Maybe we’ll even have some fun together.” He stood up from the cot, taking a step away before turning to face Audrey. “Where are my manners?” he laughed. “I’m Thomas," he said in a strange sort of introduction. "So it’s settled then.” He walked over to a part of the concrete floor where a mat covered it, and pulled the mat away. Pulling a little chisel of sorts out of his cloak, he banged and banged for a couple minutes, dust flying up in the air, before lifting up a hidden trap door. “You see, I do know what I’m doing. Even the King doesn’t know about this. And anyone who doesn't know the way would be trapped and die in there anyway," he told her, nodding down to the door. He let the heavy door close with a thud before walking back to Audrey. “I can get us out, but I can’t stop people from seeing you. We are in London, after all. You’ll need to be attired as a boy so you’ll be adequately disguised,” he informed her. “Wait here, and I’ll be back with what you’ll need. Don’t think about trying the door yourself."
 
She did not give any visible sign of discomfort from his hand upon her knee this time. Only, she listened very closely. Toying gently with a rib length piece of hair, her fingers just as graceful as her legs. Eyes watched as he showed her the door and surprise registered on her features a moment(funny how much you could learn about your kingdom once on the other side) as he explained further.

Her long lashes fell quickly, then lifted - he did have a point. It wouldn't be hard for any member of the gentry to recognize her, she was the Queen after all. A widely admired and saught after one at that. She had already been reduced to servant's attire, how could a lad's be any worse.

"Alright, Sir Thomas," she murmured softly. Though she had decided to go along with him for now, she knew she couldn't suddenly act so meek and content after her previous attitude. Remain haughty, almost aloof, keep him guessing. She had to stay on her toes and she believed him when she said many had gotten lost in the tunnel. "You must also bring me some clothe in which to bind my chest," she said, straightening her back a tad proudly, which only served to thrust her generous endowment against the peasant's shirt(neither too big, but never too small; clearly enough to please any man, but not enough to cause her problems in her back from the weight). "And perhaps nothing form fitting," she added. Audrey was going to have to stifle the curves of her person as best she could as to not draw any attention, though she was a small enough woman. This shouldn't be too hard.
 
Thomas analyzed her movements and mannerisms as she processed what he had to say. He'd thought already of course, of binding her lovely breasts, but hadn't said anything yet, lest it displeased her. Her endowments were proportional to her lovely frame, but appeared to be a nice enough handful to have a merry time with. But they wouldn't do on the lam. He could tell she was showing off a little when she thrust her chest out. Thomas couldn't argue, though. It worked to boost his opinion even still of her almost girlish figure. "Yes, of course, Your Majesty," he agreed, reaching up to her fiery locks, and holding a handful between his fingers. "I might have to trim your lovely tresses as well," Thomas informed her. "An unfortunate necessity, perhaps."

Standing up, he headed to the door in earnest this time, opening it halfway before turning back to Audrey. "Give me a few minutes," was all he said before closing and locking it. Heading down the long stairway, he greeted the other two guards with a little laugh. "Wait here for a minute, lads," he told them. "I'll be right back to have some fun with Her Majesty," he said with a wicked laugh, making a lewd thrust with his hips so there was no doubt what he meant them to believe. "Then you lads can each have your turn. The opportunity of a lifetime, indeed." One of them eagerly laughed in agreement, while the other was quite beset by guilt, not feeling quite right about such an assault against the Queen. But peer pressure is a powerful force against the young, and the dissenter therefore bit his tongue.

Going to the guards' changing area, he pulled out his own civilian clothes, before stealing the garments of a lad who worked there by day, sizing them up as about the right size for Audrey. Next, he took the shirt of one of his companions that evening, and sliced it into four long strips with his knife, an effective enough binding for her, most likely. Tossing all this into a sack, he headed back through the darkness to the formidable White Tower. "Don't disturb me, boys. I'm going to have quite a good time with her," he laughed. "Some ropes," he said, nodding to the sack he carried. "She's quite a dirty-minded Queen." Climbing back up the steps after sharing another off-color remark or two, he unlocked the door to Audrey's chamber, skulking in again and dumping everything on the bed. "Let's get to work," he ordered, drinking in Audrey's soft face and features again as she basked in the yellow candlelight. "We won't have all night."
 
Audrey, many a time, caught Thomas looking over her body and it affected her strangely. It wasn't that he was not handsome, quite the contrary, he was handsome. And well built, but he was not heavy. He seemed to be built in all the right places and his hair was almost begged her to run her fingers through the strands. However, she knew better. Her ploy was to escape with him, then attempt another escape but this time, from him. She was determined to not live her life serving another man(whether he be King, Lord, or servant).

His hand in her wavy, auburn hair made her shiver, but she only frowned at his words and nodded her head(if they had to trim her hair, she would be saddened of course but she understood neccesities that would be required if she wanted to escape her fate). Brilliant green eyes watched as he left the room and with a sigh, she laid back on the cot. Lashes fell and, eyes closed, she waited for her ex-executioner's return.

What seemed like an enternity later, she heard steps ascending to her tower prison and almost fearfully, her heart leapt. For the long seconds it took for him to reach her cell, she began to doubt her decision. Guilt followed closely on the heels of her doubt; she would be costing him everything by taking him up on his plot because she knew all too well, she could not submit to his whims. The reason the Queen had been beaten by her husband was that she refused his warped sexual conquests(some of which she would never repeat). That, and because she had never given him an heir, she assumed.

Putting back on her regal, somewhat haughty expression, she stood as Thomas came back into the room. He was quick to stalk on powerful legs to the bed, dumping the contents of the bag onto the very spot in which she'd been laying a moment before. Green eyes saw what lay before her and she vaguely wondered if he would make her change under his gaze(she couldn't bind her chest alone, she knew). "Where shall we start?" she questioned, holding her chin cocked regally. "Do I have to change in front of you?" it was a question she presented a moment later, though her eyes flashed defiantly as if to say - "I won't" - despite no words actually coming forth(it was not the time to challenge him).
 
Where shall we start? That question brought a little smile to Thomas’ face. It made him think of something quite more forbidden than anything he’d done so far with Audrey. She had such a haughty and elegant air about her. Not that he hated it. In fact, it was precisely her regal nature which made her far more desirable than a common beauty. He ignored her question, pulling his knife out and taking a handful of hair in his hand. Holding his knife up to the red curls, he changed his mind, returning his blade to his side with a grin. “We’ll hold off on that. We don’t want to give out gratuitous hints on your new appearance, when your hair’s found here.” Although he returned the knife, he hadn’t yet let go of his handful of hair.

“So where shall we start?” he asked contemplatively, repeating her question. “I think we ought to start with a token which shows me you mean business when it comes to our agreement.” He didn’t pull hard on her hair, but used it to tug her head just down a little. Letting go of her still long locks, he unbuttoned the top button of his pants. “I think a proper manner of showing it is by getting on your knees, Your Majesty, and providing me some pleasure,” he suggested with a devilish grin. The very thought of his fire-haired Queen kneeling with his member in her mouth almost made him blow his load immediately. As he searched her emerald eyes for the disgust he knew it would arouse in her, he placed a hand on each temple, rubbing her head softly. “Please don’t view it as any slight or insult again yourself,” he asked of her. “If I am to die tonight,” I’d prefer that it shall happen already having been satisfied by a beautiful Queen. And if you are to live, I’d imagine it a small price to pay. What say you…. Audrey?”
 
The Queen had to surpress a shiver as he took hold of her silky soft hair, her eyes widening just a slight as her gaze fell upon the knife. He seemed though to quickly change his mind, putting it back in its sheath and, inwardly, she let out a sigh of relief...that turned out to be short lived. The way he repeated her question made dread weigh down in her chest. So the man was indeed not as foolish as she may have hoped for(as the Queen, she had hoped he would take her at her word).

His hand slid from her hair and he undid the clasp of his pants. His words - as he expected - caused a degree of disgust and repulsion to rise in her emerald eyes. She did not want to do what he was insinuating. The very thought of her on her knees, with his length in her mouth, made her strangely sick to her stomach.

Listening closely to his words, her regal deamoner faded away just a tad to be replaced with a tinge of guilt. Had she not thought just a little bit ago that he should at least be rewarded for setting her free? Not that he knew she was planning an escape, but he was seeking a token to prove her word true. She supposed it could be worse - he wasn't raping her, after all, when she knew that he could. There was no doubt in her mind that he could force her to do whatever he wanted.

It was a small price to pay. If she could endure the King and his twisted ways for six years, then she could do this. Audrey let herself fall to her knees before this man, giving in, but never defeated. Her emerald eyes, still filled with pride and revulsion, peered up at Thomas as he towered above her.

"As a token of faith to our agreement," she repeated, her regality and pride still showing through even as she remained on her knees before him, "Thomas."
 
The initial look of disgust in Audrey's eyes wasn't lost on Thomas. But beyond that, she cooperated far more readily than he'd imagined she would. Perhaps the prospect of a beheading will have that effect, he assumed. As the figure of the Queen became lowered before him, he noticed that the candlelight played off her pale, soft features differently now, but no less pleasingly. Even when assuming the most whorish of positions, kneeling in expectation of receiving a strange man's seed in her mouth, he was amazed how Audrey moved so gracefully. He looked down into her proud, brilliant eyes, and saw she wasn't looking away in shame. She was returning his aroused gaze, as if to tell him he couldn't take her dignity. She could be made to act the whore, but he knew she could never be turned into one.

As her words tickled his ears in delight, her voice slightly resigned, but proud and almost sensual, he dropped his pants to his ankles, followed by his undergarment. He closed his eyes for a moment as he bucked his hips forward, moving his completely aroused manhood to within an inch of her lovely, smooth lips. Taking her head into his hands, he massaged her scalp slowly through her soft red hair, pulling it in just a little. Was the Queen of England about to take his erect, throbbing length into her warm mouth? This was unfathomable in every way, he thought, as he let out a short, deep groan in anticipation of feeling her tongue upon him. "To our agreement, Your Highness," he mumbled softly with a smile, leaving it to her to make the first contact.
 
Audrey's stomach clenched and then flipped as his pants and undergarment fell. His hands slid into her hair to subtly encourage her lips to pay attention to his erect length. Hands clenched into fists on her thighs, trembling for but a moment with a mixture of emotions - anger, disgust, frustration - that all seemed to crowd in at once. It was one thing for her husband to force her to do such lewd actions, this was something else entirely. Keep reminding yourself, that once you do this, you may never have to be subject to men's perversity again, were her thoughts.

Sucking in a breath, she closed her pride filled eyes, a hand lifting to gently wrap its slim fingers around the base of his shaft. The feel of the heat against her palm made her shudder, again with a mix of revulsion and resignment. Lips parted and, trying her best not to pull them into a sneer, she pressed a soft touch to the head. Before they slid over, spreading to accomadate the progress of his manhood into her mouth. He was a tad more well endowed than the King and because of this fact, she was intimidated, unsure if she could proceed.

He was hot, hard, and salty in her mouth. She made a noise as she slid it further into her mouth, both of degredation and nausea. Her fingers tightened at the base of his length, and she concentrated hard on her fingers instead of her mouth. Her tongue tentively moving over the skin as she sucked in her cheeks, remembering the depraved words of the King the first time he had forced her to her knees this way. His degrading encouragements(they seemed, ironically, to be helping her in avoiding her execution; how ironic).
 
Thomas shuddered a little bit when he felt her hand touch him. Her lithe fingers were so gentle; no doubt they'd never been taught the need to be rough with a thing in the whole of their existence. "Don't be afraid to hold it," he gasped a little with a chuckle at her first tentative touch. "I've been told it requires two hands to maneuver properly," he continued, knowing he was rather well-endowed.

Looking upwards, he exhaled deeply when she took his tip into her warm mouth. As she lapped around it, he could feel every facet of the texture of her lovely, soft tongue. The little sound she made was amazing, it was the first real indication that she loathed what he was forcing her to do. "Hmmmm, you aren't bad," he said in a deep voice tinged with arousal, stroking her scalp a little bit more. He began to rock towards her ever so slightly, as if to beg her to take him in deeper into her warmth. Her mouth was a perfect harbor for his throbbing shaft, he thought. It was delicate, yet comfortable, able to arouse every sensitive part of his thick member.

Reaching down, he pulled her chin up a little bit, and looked down into her eyes, his knees starting to waver. "You've done this before, haven't you Audrey?" he asked softly as he examined the depth of her emerald eyes. He nodded his head as if to answer his own question, knowing she couldn't respond with his length filling her mouth. It made him wonder what other depravity took place in the royal bedroom. "You don't have to make it last, my dear," he told her, followed by a little involuntary gasp when she so expertly sucked in her cheeks. "Just do the deed. Hold my thighs and take it all the way inside. We'll have plenty of time for more fun on the outside," he promised before gasping louder, tugging in on the back of her head to prod her to try and accept the rest of him.
 
His words - You've done this before, haven't you Audrey? - felt strangely like a taunt as her eyes flashed, full of pride. Not able to answer him, she screwed her eyes shut at his nod; he was slowly figuring out the things the King ask of her from behind closed doors. Her hands listened to him, moving to grasp his firm thighs. She just wanted this over with and when he urged her further, her warm mouth slid onto shaft more. When he pushed deep into her mouth, she had to fight the urge to gag, her fingers curling into his muscular legs.

Beginning now to bob her head, sliding her lips back up along his shaft, before immediately back down. She kept her cheeks pulled in to push the soft skin against him each time he came into her mouth, trying to work her often prideful tongue along the underside, taking him as deep as she could manage. Again soft noises she couldn't surpress that vibrated against him, not ones of pleasure.

[A bit shorter, sorry. ><]
 
Now Thomas was really starting to get worked up into a frenzy as Audrey licked the sensitive ridges on the underbelly of his pulsating manhood. Grinning when she listened to him, taking his big thighs in hand and speeding up, his hips began to move in rhythm with her. No longer able to work in any controlled manner, his hands began to wander all over her head and face as she fulfilled their agreement. She was working hard to get it over with quickly, but he didn't care about that. He'd told her to, anyway. As she sucked in her cheeks, it made her mouth feel almost like a wonderful, tight womanhood to his stimulated member.

As she went on, his groans began gradually to drown out her little whimpers and noises. Her nails dug hard into his thighs now, but he could hardly feel it, he was getting so close. As she continued bobbing, his eyes rolled back in his head as he threw it back towards the high vaulted ceiling, letting out an extended moan. Finally, his own fingers dug into her scalp a little as his moan took a somewhat higher pitch, and several waves of his thick seed were released into her majestic mouth and throat. "Ahh," he began once his breath returned to normal a few seconds later, pulling his shaft out of her mouth. "You're the Queen, you decide what to do with it, he snickered, noticing she hadn't decided yet what to do with the product that filled her mouth and oozed out onto her lips a little. "Just don't spit it on me."

((Nah, it seemed just about right.))
 
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