Tribute Page 5

  But that kind of arrangement—however satisfying it might be to bed the empress—irked him to the point that, unless she commanded him, which she would never stoop to doing, he couldn’t quite stomach the idea. It was too close to being paid to bed a woman—empress or not—and that thought made his back teeth ache.

  To say nothing of the fact that the empress was notoriously fickle, and one could find himself very much in favor one day and completely out of it and in the stockade awaiting execution the next. He valued his head on his neck much more so than a pike.

  He was only too happy to whisk his prize away from that morass of wickedness and back to his precious hills where the air was clean and the womenfolk knew their place.

  And where he would thoroughly enjoy teaching her hers.

  They rode all of the rest of that night and well into the next morning. She had fallen asleep against him early on and was dead to the world throughout their trip. He wasn’t surprised after all of the running she’d done. He’d taken the time to examine her papers, none of which identified her by name, but he could tell she wasn’t of common stock—the way she’d bowed to the empress, in perfect form, screamed that she’d been presented at court at least once, to say nothing of the fact that her features were too fine, her teeth too perfect and not at all ground down, and her skin too damned luscious. He had an inkling of who she was, but the memories were faded because he so rarely interacted with anyone he hadn’t known forever, much less anyone from the other kingdoms.

  Still, there wasn’t much information on what few pages he was given, although Master Cromwell’s impression of her intrigued him. He said she was quite responsive, especially to painful stimuli such as spankings and like punishments. It was his recommendation that whoever ended up with her keep her strictly and as chastely as possible, controlling as much about her as was possible, especially her pleasure, as someone who was as prone to ecstasy as he deemed her to be might not be as discriminating as she should be about where it came from. He had suggested that she become a part of the empress’s cadre of boy and girl toys, and that idea made Raiz frown fiercely, glad to know that that fate hadn’t befallen her.

  He had seen up close how those young men and women were treated; he was ashamed to admit that he had partaken of them when he was a younger, more callow—and almost uncontrollably horny—youth. But he couldn’t imagine how someone as delicate as she was would have fared when left to the not so tender ministrations of the empress and her entourage, to whom those poor souls were made always available in the most perverse manners one could think of, and certainly not by their own choice.

  Visions of what he had seen—and done—the first few times he’d been at court, he was horrified to admit, haunted him to this day, as did his reaction to them.

  He had been a young prince, and his father had begged off his tribute service years due to the fact that he was the only male heir and a new one at that, since they had lost his older brother to the ague fever the winter before. A dispensation had been granted, but not one he had had anything to do with. The blemish on his record because he had avoided his obligation followed him to this day, although there wasn’t anyone around who was willing to call him out on it, the cowards. He was too well known as an expert swordsman and had accumulated too many triumphs on the battlefield. They were, however, quite content to whisper about it behind his back—from a safe distance, of course.

  His father was wise enough to keep him from court during those years, pressing him into his own service for that time, molding him as quickly as possible into the heir he wasn’t intended to be, and luckily for him, Raiz was a quick learner.

  But that third year, when his obligation would have already been fulfilled and he was twenty-one, his father sent him to spend a season at court. Despite the stain of not having served, the empress had greeted him exuberantly, and, untried and unseasoned as he was in the ways of experienced women, he was flattered by her obvious interest. Despite his father’s warnings about staying on the fringes of the throngs of the sycophants that routinely hung around the empress, he quickly found himself growing quite close to her and was immediately accepted as one of her inner circle.

  That meant that he was expected to attend her constantly and be an active participant in whatever entertainment caught her interest and they all seemed to revolve around sex. He’d been amazed to see one of her “play” rooms, a cavernous area filled with the hypnotic combination of moans of ecstasy as well as agony, and the objects of both of those experiences were rarely willing.

  They were in the position that was probably meant for him, which was why she bothered to show him, he suspected. They were tributes, pressed into service for the realm, although he doubted it was quite what any of their parents had in mind for them. This wasn’t nobly risking your life in battle for a cause or even just assisting a farmer with his harvest; it was being sucked or flicked off or fucked or teased or cropped or whipped or paddled at the whim of any passerby of sufficient rank.

  Not only were there multiple—he never knew exactly how many—places like this within the palace, but, in nearly every public room, even her audience chamber, there were tributes whose sole purpose was to lie there in case any of those surrounding the empress felt the need of release.

  And there were frighteningly few rules governing the behavior of the people who availed themselves of those poor wretches, who were bound in place, their legs spread open and held there, arms above their heads, blindfolded and, in some cases, even deprived of the ability to hear what was going on around them. The court wasn’t allowed to cause any kind of permanent harm and they were—he was very surprised to find out—required to pleasure the tributes before taking their own pleasure on them. Raiz was of the opinion, especially in the case of the women, however, that they were probably threatened into faking their pleasure, but there was no real way to prove that.

  One night the empress was rather bored, and there were—thankfully—only a few of them left around her, the others having been dismissed off hand as not stimulating enough for her. Somehow, her attentions alighted on him.

  “My Lord Arndt, am I correct when I say that you have yet to avail yourself of a tribute? At least not to my knowledge, and not in my presence?”

  Although he fought mightily against it, he could feel himself coloring a bit at her query. “Why, yes, my empress, you are correct.”

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she had crossed the room to stand near him. “And you are well? No sickness or deficit prevents you from doing so?”

  He could feel his whole face turning red, but he answered her in full voice. “No, Ma’am. I am well.”

  “Then you must do so at once. You know how my physician thinks that a man, in particular, who denies his urges will find them manifested in ill humors elsewhere in his body. I will not have you getting sick. You’re much too precious to me. Come, come. If none of them in this room are to your liking, we shall have others brought in.”

  To his horror, she had followed him to the wall where six people were lying on ornate, comfortable looking cots, but he doubted that, after hours of lying there and being used repeatedly the cots left them feeling particularly comforted.

  When she looked over the lot herself, the empress clapped her hands and Master Cromwell appeared out of thin air it seemed, although he was always lurking so as to be of immediate service to her. The empress looked at Raiz. “Cromwell, we need more…” she assessed Raiz and took an educated guess. “Girls?”

  He nodded.

  Within just a few seconds, six new girls were trussed up where the others had been, bound, gagged and blindfolded, unable to stop him from doing almost anything to them.

  Still Raiz simply stood there, dumbfounded at having been strong armed into this position, feeling somewhat of a kinship with the girls rather than with the small cadre of men and women who had gathered around him at the empress’s behest to egg him on.

  After a few moments, she asked
, “Are none of these to your taste, either? I’m sure there are more.” She came to stand directly behind him, pressed up against his body. “Perhaps if you could tell me what it is that you’re looking for.”

  Cromwell’s head nodded fit to fall off its neck, which it was sure to if he didn’t please his ruler. “No, no, I just—there’s so many to choose from!”

  “Come on, I will see you spill your seed within someone and quickly.”

  Raiz took a deep breath. There was no hope for it, so he started at one end and began to look at the girls more closely. Cromwell was instantly at his elbow, whispering tidbits of information about each of them. “This girl is a virgin. She tested very low on the pain scale, but has a very high responsiveness ratio over all.”

  They moved to the next poor unfortunate.

  “This one is very much like the other, except that she is no longer a virgin. She’s a redhead and her eyes, although you cannot see them, are green.”

  As he passed by each of the beds, the man next to him gave him a synopsis of what he knew about them.

  The last girl was weeping softly and not doing a very good job of hiding it.

  “This one just arrived today. Fresh off the boat. She’s a virgin and tests very high—as you might have guessed—in fear response and disturbingly low on pain. She’ll be a tricky one for someone,” he said it like he was issuing a direct challenge.

  Somehow the man was able to determine that this girl became sexually excited when she was afraid. Raiz figured he didn’t want to know what that kind of a test entailed.

  He took off his coat and a servant was instantly there to take it from him. He also gave them his hat, tie, sword and belt as well as his gloves.

  “Are you sure you wish to choose this one, your grace? You’ve chosen a hard row to hoe, as they say.” The mindless gits around her tittered at the double entendre—and pretty much anything else the empress said.

  “Yes, my empress.” He hoped that his tone wasn’t as sarcastic out loud as it was in his head.

  He’d do this, because he knew he had no choice but to comply. But then he was going to spend the rest of his time here trying to get back home, where he was the one in charge, and he could fuck whom he wanted when he wanted, and he could do it without an expectant audience surrounding him.

  His taste for court life had turned distinctly sour, although he knew that however reluctant he was to do this, he was obligated—especially under such close scrutiny—to make sure that the maiden found her own pleasure or that would be yet another black mark against him.

  At least he knew he had the skill—and the desire—to bring her off. It would be a challenge, one that he was quite willing—and already quite able—to rise to. He could well imagine that this might be the only time in two years that she would actually enjoy what was being done to her, virgin or no.

  Chapter V

  He didn’t bother to try to soothe her, knowing that that way only lead to more tears and probable hysterics. Kindness wasn’t a kindness to her in this situation. The only thing she’d understand was someone who was willing to take charge and give her something to think about other than how scared and miserable she was feeling.

  He didn’t introduce himself, he didn’t whisper to her about what he was going to do, he didn’t touch her tenderly. Instead, as he straddled the thin bed, he grasped the base of her breasts and began to squeeze them rhythmically, lifting the nipples into his mouth where he suckled avidly, back and forth between the two, licking and flicking the generous buds that at first seemed flush with the rest of her skin, but quickly burgeoned into avid, seeking tightness.

  And he didn’t just abandon them there, either, as a lot of men would have to move on to what they considered more interesting territory. He lingered, nibbling roughly, dragging the edges of his teeth over the very sensitive tips, pinching hard at the place where nipple met breast while his tongue worried each of them in turn, until he could not only see her reactions to what he was doing to her, but he could hear them, too.

  Her ragged breathing wasn’t from sobbing uncontrollably any more. It was a direct result of what he was doing to her. If she hadn’t been gagged he might have kissed her, but then again, maybe not. Putting any appendage into the mouth of someone in her situation was a dicey proposition at best.

  So he settled for trailing the tip of his tongue up from the nail of her middle finger, up the inside of her forearm, skipping over the cuff that held her arms in place across the underside of her upper arm, over her shoulder and down her collar bone. All while his hands and fingers continued to massage and pinch her breasts, not forgetting them even as he licked his way down between them, down her stomach to her navel. Then he moved outwards to lick up her sides and then down again. He continued across each prominent hipbone and finally, resting his forehead on her mons, he took a deep breath, his nose buried between her lips where she lay with her legs held back.

  She smelled wonderfully clean and definitely aroused.

  That was very good, considering her innocence, but he wasn’t going to be hurried.

  As he repositioned himself slowly, he noted that his audience had finally become quiet. No one was making smart, critical remarks, no one was saying anything—not even the empress. They were too busy breathing heavily and watching avidly. He could hear them behind him, and wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out that they were all wanking off back there.

  He didn’t much care, as long as they shut the hell up.

  When he found himself in the exactly perfect spot, he reached up again to reclaim her breasts, then slowly and very deliberately opened his mouth and placed it over her clit. He was rewarded by a soft, spontaneous groan and he practically came right then and there.

  But he remembered his goal was to pleasure her first—he could get off any time now, but he took the rules seriously. It was a matter of pride, and if he was able to pull this off in the manner he intended, the previous blemish on his reputation would disappear and he would be golden for the rest of his life. He intended to use that to his advantage.

  As he continued to bathe her clit in the warmth of his mouth and tongue, he let his right hand drift down to her little cunny to press his index finger into her, slowly but firmly. She wasn’t too well guarded, which was what he had been hoping for. If he could get her stretched out enough before he actually took her, she might not experience any pain at all, and there would be nothing to war with the ecstasy he knew he could bring her.

  Whenever she seemed distressed, he backed off a little, never giving up much in the way of territory, but lessening the way he was deliberately stretching her until he was able to get his finger in up to the last knuckle and finger fuck her a bit, just to give her a taste of the rhythm.

  Then he introduced a second finger, which had her squealing a bit and those behind him oohing and ahhing, but his tongue quickly turned that into an almost growl.

  She was relatively close, he judged, feeling not a little pride.

  This was when he backed off her clit, not wanting her to climax too quickly. He left her wanting, arching her hips as if to entice his mouth back, but what she found was that she was impaling herself on his fingers instead, not that that seemed to stop her much. He simply held his hand still, and she did most of the rest of the work for him in her eagerness to find the fulfillment he was denying her.

  Raiz reached down and rearranged himself, setting his erection free with a sigh and kissing his way up to he breasts again as his cock knocked at the same door his fingers had gone through pretty easily a few seconds earlier.

  She yelped in alarm at the size of him, but lips tugging at her nipple and a well placed finger had her blossoming beneath him, and when he thrust surely forward, he slid into her without a peep of protest coming from behind that gag.

  In fact, she gifted him, as he sank fully into her, with a long, low moan that was fit to shake the rafters.

  He thought he heard several echoing moans from the peop
le behind him, who were supposedly just observing the situation, but he highly doubted they had manage to remain that detached.

  As he fucked her, his motions dragged his finger over her clit and she practically went berserk beneath him.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you come, girl, so you’d better just give it up to me. I can do this all night.”

  It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was what he knew she needed to hear it in order to feel absolved about what was going to happen to her.

  And when it did, he would bet that people in every kingdom could hear her, she moaned so loudly. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a woman come so loudly, and she contracted so hard around him that she milked his own pleasure right out of him. He stiffened and jerked and bucked, but forced himself—with an iron will—to remain quiet, instead allowing her cries to speak to his skill as a lover.

  When he stood and tucked himself up again, it was to a ridiculously enthusiastic standing ovation. He couldn’t do anything about the blush that spread over his face, but it wasn’t one of pride at their approval, but rather embarrassment that they had been there to witness what he’d done at all.

  He’d left the place immediately, before any of them—especially the empress—had the chance to think of asking him—and thus obligating him—to stay any longer.

  It wasn’t long after that that he was able to extricate himself from court entirely and go back to where he belonged. He wasn’t proud of his excuse; he used his father’s ill health to get the empress to let him go, but she wouldn’t do so without exacting a promise that he’d come back to court in ten years. That—and his reluctant yet desperate search for a wife—was why he found himself at the hunt where he’d captured the women who was still fast asleep in his arms.