KathrynLocksley
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Consorts for Ladies #3
🕑 Added 2023-06-24 20:13:42 +0000 UTC(Note, this story takes place in a fantasy universe with reverse-traditional gender roles. The mostly male “aspirants” in this corner of the universe voluntarily compete to be chosen as submissive, femme consorts by noblewomen. All characters are over the age of 18.)
***
“Will you be accompanying me tomorrow morning, my lady?” Gabriel asked, busying himself with the oil lamp beside Sir Elizabeth’s bed, preparing to douse it for the night.
“Leave it,” Elizabeth stopped him. “I want to look at you while I decide.”
Gabriel stepped back from the flame and looked down at the toes of his high-heeled slippers instead, a warm glow starting in his cheeks. As usual, he was still fully dressed.
It had been nearly two weeks since Elizabeth had claimed him as her trial consort and brought him to share her bed, and though she had seen him with his skirts pulled up for the claiming ceremony itself, and for some mild discipline where necessary, he had never fully undressed in front of her. Somehow, he always managed to remove his many layers of linen, silk, and whalebone after the light was out, before sliding under the covers beside her, and have them all perfectly back in place the next morning before she woke.
Most of their relationship had been rigorously civilized, in fact. They had read to each other, played chess and cards, walked the grounds in conversation, and attended performances and banquets together as if he were an honored guest at Heartgarden Castle, just as she was.
Rarely had they touched more than hands.
“Do you want me to accompany you?” asked Elizabeth.
Tomorrow was Gabriel’s first scheduled seed extraction since their time together had begun. The procedure was usually performed weekly, but his had been deferred for an extra week after the claiming, a standard practice intended to intensify his desire and accelerate the bonding process.
He had not spoken a word of complaint, though all the study Elizabeth had read on masculine humors indicated that he should be in noticeable discomfort by now. She wondered what it felt like. Not having equivalent parts, she couldn’t quite formulate a guess.
Gabriel traced a line on the floor with the toe of his slipper, and Elizabeth couldn’t help imagining his thighs squeezing together around his unyielding chastity belt.
“Yes,” he answered, clasping his hands behind his back and looking resolutely up at her. “I’d like it to be you, performing the extraction.”
“I see.” Elizabeth wrapped her hand around the key on her necklace. “You know, I could still use this. If we both agreed to keep it a secret, I could let you enjoy your draining.”
“Not exactly,” said Gabriel. He was getting more comfortable with politely contradicting her in private. “You could let me enjoy a draining. I would still have to undergo the usual procedure, to show that I’m maintaining my health for my true lady. I suspect it would be harder on me, with less pressure to release. But I thank you for the offer.”
“It wasn’t an offer, yet,” said Elizabeth. “It was an observation. You make an interesting point, though, which in turn presents an interesting opportunity.”
“My lady?”
Elizabeth swept one of Gabriel’s long, brown locks of hair behind his ear, lingering on the soft skin of his neck as she lowered her hand.
“Why have I never unlocked your belt?” she asked.
Gabriel thought for a moment. “You are tasked with safeguarding my purity for my true lady, whether or not you are she.”
“Oh, yes, and we’re both such devotees of the rules, you and I,” said Elizabeth with lighthearted sarcasm. “You who cheated at the very first game we played together, I’m sure you just couldn’t live with yourself, knowing you’d accepted pleasure from your trial lady, without waiting for an everlasting commitment. And me, a knight treading in the domain of the highest nobles, how could I ever justify taking one more privilege usually reserved for ladies far above me?”
“If you’re caught spoiling me, we could both be thrown out,” said Gabriel, though the light purr in his voice, and the way he leaned into Elizabeth’s touch, didn’t make it sound like much of an argument.
“So, it’s not respect for the rules that holds us back, but fear of consequences?” Elizabeth followed his thinking with a nod. “Yes, it would be a challenge to get away with. It’s not as if we’re all alone, in a room that locks from the inside, with the key to your belt right here.”
Gabriel giggled nervously.
“All right, why would you say you haven’t released me?” he asked, breath warm near her ear. “You could have had me any night you chose, knowing that I’d never dare admit it to anyone.”
“Do you remember what you told me the first night?” Elizabeth asked.
“Which part?” asked Gabriel.
“The part about what a disappointment your cock is to you, when you have free access to it,” said Elizabeth, taking the liberty of trailing her hand down his bodice to touch the hard chain at his hip. “How that magical glow inside it only exists when it’s owned by someone else.”
Gabriel blushed and buried his face in her shoulder.
“I’ve kept your belt locked, because we both know that if I indulged your desires too easily, they would lose their power. But then again, what good is that power if I never use it at all? I’ve been searching for the right moment to tap that tempest inside you, without quieting it. I think this might be that moment.”
Gabriel’s body vibrated against hers with tense anticipation. “Why is that, my lady?”
“Because it would come with a cost,” said Elizabeth. “As you’ve just pointed out, an orgasm now means a more difficult extraction later. Think about that. Think about the natural punishment you’ll incur for letting me tempt you, even though no one will know. Think about how you would never pick this moment for release if it were up to you, but it isn’t. Chances like this don’t take your convenience into account, if they come up at all.”
She pushed him gently to arm’s length, to examine his face.
“How do you feel?” she asked. “Sufficiently owned and unspoiled? Is the feeling strong enough to stand up to being touched?”
Gabriel bit his lip, holding back a nervous smile.
“Is that an offer yet, my lady?”
Elizabeth observed him a moment longer, savoring the way his excitement threatened to overwhelm his shame.
“It is,” she said.
“Then I accept,” said Gabriel. “I accept whatever treatment you deem appropriate, and the consequences that come with it.”
Elizabeth grinned, quite pleased with how well this was going.
“Turn around and lift your skirt.”
Gabriel obeyed, gathering up his many layers of petticoats to reveal the heavy padlock that held the four chains of his chastity belt together.
Removing the much finer chain that hung around her neck, Elizabeth placed her key in the lock, and turned.
The lock clicked open, allowing her to slide the links of chain off of it. Kissing the back of Gabriel’s neck, she eased the contoured metal plate off of his pelvis, freeing his penis from its inflexible, faucet-shaped casing.
As soon as the chastity belt hit the floor, Gabriel turned around in Elizabeth’s arms to kiss her hungrily on the mouth. In no time at all, his unrestricted sex stood up under his skirts, reaching out for warmth and attention.
“How do you want me?” he whispered, reaching shaking fingers toward the hem of her nightshirt.
She stopped him with a hand on each wrist.
“I don’t believe I’ll take your virginity today,” she said.
Disappointment interrupted the quick rhythm of Gabriel’s breathing.
Elizabeth wrapped a hand firmly around his erection, through the satin of his gown and all the layers beneath.
“Understand me,” she said. “I’m starting to think of it as mine.” She squeezed a little harder, prompting a sharp intake of breath. “If things continue as well as they’ve been going, I expect to be the one to break that ground, either before or after I make you permanently, officially mine. But I intend to make it special.”
“How?”
“I’ll know when the moment is right,” she assured him. “For now, sit on the bed and touch yourself. You said you’d learned how to do that before you came to the Heartgarden, correct?”
Gabriel nodded, sat on the edge, and pulled his skirts up over his lap, showing off the graceful arc of his fully hardened cock.
Elizabeth admired it for the second time — the first time in comfortable privacy — thinking how perfectly shaped it was for riding.
With the occasional self-conscious glance up at her, Gabriel began to stroke its lovely, smooth length, coaxing it to moisten itself and glisten.
“How long has it been since you were permitted to do this?” she asked.
“Four years,” Gabriel answered, snatching the air to do so from between soft gasps. “Remarkable, how easily it come back.”
“The redness in your testicles,” she pointed. “Is it always there?”
“It comes and goes,” said Gabriel.
“With your extractions?”
He nodded.
“We’ll have to find a way to replace it for the morning, won’t we?”
“That would be safest for both of us,” Gabriel agreed.
“What do you think would give them the most convincing color?” Elizabeth asked softly, sitting down beside him and cradling the two little orbs in her hand. “Crushing?” She applied very gentle pressure. “Whipping? Or are we going to be up all night, fitting in a whole week’s worth of teasing to make them forget this one moment of satisfaction? Would that work?”
Gabriel was breathing in tense little sips of air as he stroked himself. “I… I wouldn’t rely on it,” he said. “You’re going to have to bruise them.”
“Are you sure you still want to do this?” asked Elizabeth, lightly teasing the skin of his upper thighs, just above the tops of his stockings. “You’ll be paying for it twice over.”
Gabriel didn’t even falter in his rhythm.
“Yes,” he breathed.
“It’s not necessary,” she assured him. “I could stay up and read to you until you’re calm and soft enough to put away. If you can’t control yourself, I’d be happy to tie you to the bed for your own good until this fit subsides. It’s no more than my duty as your lady.”
“No, please,” said Gabriel. “I want this. And I want you to punish me for it. Only you, while you protect me from the judgment of others.”
“Well, if you insist.” Elizabeth playfully bit his earlobe and tugged the laces of his gown open.
She lifted her hand from his legs and reached under his newly loosened neckline to caress his bare chest and find the hard little point of a nipple. Though she had often heard that men experienced less feeling in their breasts than women — an effect of men being purer, less sexual creatures in their natural state — Gabriel breathed in as sharply as if she had touched an exposed nerve, and the skin hardened still further under her fingers.
When she pulled away to figure out the rest of his clothing fastenings, he paused his self-stroking long enough to help her strip him quickly out of his gown and petticoats.
He sat again at the edge of the bed, still in his stockings, heels, and corset. Instead of the full chemise that would usually fit beneath the corset, he was currently wearing only a thin linen liner to protect his sensitive skin from pinching. The liner covered almost nothing beyond the profile of the corset itself.
When Elizabeth reached for the corset clasps, Gabriel took her hand.
“May I keep it on, my lady?”
“Why?”
“This is how I want you to see my figure. Besides,” he let out a good-humored breath, “I might just die from feeling that unrestricted.”
“Well,” Elizabeth smiled. “We certainly can’t have that.” She arranged herself on the bed behind him, caressing his completely exposed chest as she went, pinching gently at those hard, sensitive points to hear him gasp.
Leaving the front clasps of the corset alone, she trailed her hands to the back laces instead, found the knot, and pulled.
“How does that feel?” she asked, winding the strings around her fingers, so that the bony walls of the corset pulled tighter around him. “You’re right, being able to touch your cock is more than enough indulgence for one night. You don’t really need to be able to fill your lungs at the same time, do you?”
Gabriel panted and stroked himself with a new fervor.
“Tighter,” he requested.
Elizabeth placed her bare foot along his back for leverage and pulled until the edge bones of the corset met, and then overlapped, cinching Gabriel’s waist down to an ethereally slight point.
“I can feel… my heart… everywhere,” Gabriel rasped. “Please, don’t let go.”
Elizabeth undid the knot and re-tied it to maintain the tightness while she ran her fingers all over his exposed skin, pushing his silky hair to one side to kiss along the back of his neck.
“I hope this makes you feel as beautiful as you are,” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Gabriel somehow found enough breath in his body to joke. “How beautiful am I?”
Elizabeth sank her teeth shallowly into his shoulder. “You’re a sunrise crushed into human form. Dazzling. Cosmic. You’re so inhumanly beautiful it’s almost hard to believe you could want something as animal as this.”
She reached down to cup his testicles again, tracing his tiny waist along the way, careful not to touch his cock with her bare hands. Not today.
“And does that make me less beautiful?” he asked, still stroking fast. “Knowing how vulgar and dirty I am inside?”
His voice had that hint of challenge made Elizabeth’s body light up to meet it.
“No,” she answered. “It makes you touchable. It makes you real. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never fallen in love with a sunrise.”
Gabriel made an adorable squeaking noise in the back of his throat and lunged forward to spill his seed all over the bedroom floor, away from the fine bedclothes. Streaks of white painted the stone surface, one after another, as he writhed and gasped and wallowed in delight.
“Did you…” he grinned drunkenly over his shoulder at her, “did you just say you were in love with me?”
“Did I?” asked Elizabeth, taking in the view of her trial consort’s ass while she recounted her exact words to herself, comparing them with the floating feeling in her chest. “I’ll have to give that some thought.”
“I love you too, my lady,” said Gabriel, swaying on his arms unsteadily enough that Elizabeth worried he might fall forward into his own mess.
“That’s nice,” said Elizabeth, reaching down to unfasten his laces, in the hopes of speeding the return of blood to his brain. “Clean that up and put your belt back on.”
#
Elizabeth flexed her riding crop in her hands. She had not found occasion to use it since the claiming, when Headmistress Jane had bestowed it upon her to administer Gabriel’s ceremonial spanking.
The skin she had been required to redden on him that day had not been in nearly as fragile an area. This would require more delicacy. She gave her own palm a carefully controlled swat, to help calibrate her technique.
At the sound, Gabriel looked up at her from the patch of floor he was scrubbing, suddenly alert.
“I won’t hurt you without warning,” Elizabeth assured him. “Are you afraid?”
“A little, my lady.”
“Have you ever had your testicles punished before?”
“Yes,” said Gabriel. “That’s why I know exactly how afraid to be.”
“Then you also know you can survive it,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“That’s… true,” Gabriel acknowledged, returning his attention to the rag in his hand.
He sat up on his knees, still dressed only in his corset and liner, to rinse the rag in a bucket of water.
“Pity we can’t just put all this back in somehow,” he mused aloud. “The extractors will be expecting a load like this one in the morning.”
“Drink plenty of water,” Elizabeth advised. “I’ll squeeze every last drop I can out of you in front of them, and we’ll just have to hope it’s enough, combined with the swelling you’re going to have.”
Gabriel nodded and ran the rag over the patch of floor yet again.
“I think it’s as clean as it’s going to get,” Elizabeth chided. “Perhaps as clean as it’s ever been.”
“Yes, my lady.” Gabriel gathered up the rag and bucket and returned them to the attached washroom, taking slow, deliberate steps.
Elizabeth decided there was no point in preventing him from prolonging his torment, if he was set on doing so.
“Don’t forget your belt,” she reminded him, as his only spurring on.
Gabriel obediently picked up the chastity belt on his return trip, fed his satisfied penis back into its protective tube, dangled his testicles through their proper opening, and gathered the chains behind his back.
When he reached the bed, he turned around, so that Elizabeth could fit the padlock back in place and secure it with her key, which she tucked back under the neck of her nightshirt.
“There,” she said, reaching around to cup his vulnerable, exposed testicles once more. “Just the target we need. And now you won’t have to worry about fitting back in later, if you get too excited from all the attention you’re about to receive.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” said Gabriel.
“We’ll see. Lie on the bed.”
With a deep breath, Gabriel lay on top of the covers on his usual side of the canopy bed, hands unconsciously grasping the fabric beneath him.
“Legs apart, hands behind your head,” Elizabeth instructed. “Best not to roughen them up any more than we already have tonight.”
Gabriel adjusted accordingly.
Elizabeth ran the end of the crop over the soft, pink cushion that held those two precious little gems, watching Gabriel’s thigh muscles tense with anticipation.
“Are you ashamed of what you just did?” she asked.
Gabriel gave this a moment’s thought. “Not really. But I have butterflies in my stomach, thinking about how many people think I should be.”
“Are they pleasant butterflies?” Elizabeth asked.
“More pleasant than what you’re about to do,” said Gabriel.
“Would you like to hear more about how shockingly shameless you are?”
“How could I refuse?” He smiled, pushing against the anxiety that hung heavy around the edges of his face.
“I just saw you touch your own cock, almost as if you had a right to it,” Elizabeth accused.
Her voice came out breathless and scandalized, but she couldn’t help grinning at the joyful wickedness of it all.
“Headmistress Jane granted you such generous protection.” She put a hand on the heavy front plate of his chastity belt. “Ironclad security for your honor, and you let a woman you barely know undermine it.”
“I am still a virgin,” Gabriel argued.
“Such an experienced virgin,” said Elizabeth, leaning down closer to his face. “Your fingers are already well-practiced at providing you with base, ungentlemanly physical pleasure. What need do you have for a lady?”
“To control my unruly spirit, of course,” he answered with a smirk.
“Who would volunteer for such a staggering task?”
In the space of no more than a second, Gabriel jerked his face upward to touch his lips to Elizabeth’s. “I’m not worried,” he said, lying back.
Elizabeth felt as if he’d stolen most of the air in her lungs away with him.
“You trust me terribly deeply,” she said.
Gabriel looked down at himself, near naked, and then back up at her, with the crop in her hand. “Clearly.”
She stroked his scrotum with the leather of the crop again. In spite of his predictions, his cock had swollen again in its metal casing, just enough to peek slightly out of the end.
“I’m afraid disciplining you may be a lost cause,” she teased. “You’re so terminally depraved.”
“I need you to try, my lady,” said Gabriel, throat tightening under his playfulness. “It’s the only way you can save me.”
“What if I decline?” she asked. “What if I leave you to learn your lesson alone, if you can?”
“No, please.” Fear grew stronger in Gabriel’s tone, but it was combined with determination now.
“What are you pleading for?” Elizabeth prompted.
“Please, punish me,” Gabriel begged sweetly. “I’ll never be able to do it right on my own.”
“How can you ask me to punish you, if you won’t accept that you did anything wrong?”
“I got myself in trouble,” Gabriel reasoned. “If you’re harsh enough with me, maybe you can make me regret it.”
Elizabeth stood straight and hovered the crop over his defenseless testicles.
“Punish me!” Gabriel encouraged, gathering his fortitude. “Punish me for touching my cock. Punish me for wanting to. Punish me for liking it, and not being sorry. Punish me for being a slut.”
Elizabeth raised the crop and snapped it against the exact center of her target. It was not the hardest blow she could have mustered, but it was no symbolic tap either.
Gabriel’s lower body curled instantly inward, though he managed to keep his hands in place.
“Again,” he said in a high mew. “Quick, before I recover enough to feel it completely.”
“Lie flat, then,” said Elizabeth.
Laboriously, Gabriel stretched his legs back into position.
Elizabeth gave him another swat, a shade harder than the first, hoping it would be enough.
Gabriel cried and rolled onto his side, collapsing into a ball, tears escaping down his cheeks.
“That’s it,” said Elizabeth, setting the crop down. “It’s all over until morning, now.”
She climbed onto the bed beside him and pulled him close. He cuddled immediately against her chest, clinging to her waist and letting his tears soak into her nightshirt.
“Still lacking in regrets?” she asked, stroking his slightly disheveled hair.
“Still,” Gabriel confirmed through an unstable voice box, holding her tighter.
“Then perhaps we’ll have to try again sometime,” Elizabeth joked.
“Without question,” Gabriel agreed. “Only… not right away.”
“No, not right away.”
“Thank you, my lady,” he sighed. “For all of that.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“It wasn’t, though,” said Gabriel, resting a hand tentatively on her thigh. “Not precisely.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” said Elizabeth. She couldn’t deny feeling plenty of urges surrounding Gabriel throughout this exchange, but since the tears had begun, cuddling him had won out as the strongest among them.
“I feel so much more wretched, taking without giving,” said Gabriel. “If ever I could feel ashamed of pleasure….”
“That’s all I’d have to do to make you?” Elizabeth teased. “Withhold access to my womanhood?”
“Please don’t,” said Gabriel. “I want to be of use. I want to—”
“Tomorrow,” said Elizabeth.
Gabriel looked up at her with wide eyes, careful not to react too soon.
“After the extraction,” she added. “If you’re good.”
That coaxed him back to a smile. “How could I not be, now?”
#
Elizabeth and Gabriel both woke with a start to a sharp rapping on the door.
“Yes, thank you, we’ll be down soon,” Elizabeth called out blearily.
“I’m sorry, but you’re both needed in the entrance hall immediately,” the serving boy on the other side replied urgently.
Already, Gabriel was out from between the covers beside her, reaching for his clothes.
Elizabeth sat up a little more slowly, perplexed. This was the first time anyone had tried to rush her anywhere since she had been checked in as a guest.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Not wrong,” the boy answered unconvincingly. “Her royal highness is here. The princess Phaedia. We had no forewarning that she would be joining us this season. Not that her highness is required to inform us of her movements,” he corrected himself quickly, even while talking to the door. “It only means that we need to provide the best welcome we can, without keeping her waiting.”
Elizabeth looked to Gabriel, who threw out a hand, palm toward her, to cover the fact that he had not yet refastened his corset after sleeping.
“Turn around!” he exclaimed.
Elizabeth left him to his modesty and turned her attention to sliding into her simple tunic and leggings.
“Where is my garter?” Gabriel demanded breathlessly of himself. “Where— oh, thank goodness. My hair! She always has something to say about my hair. But there’s no time…”
“Always?” Elizabeth asked. “You’ve met Princess Phaedia before?”
Even Elizabeth had only seen the queen’s daughter a handful of times at court and never exchanged words with her. She was always off on some educational adventure, around the realm or abroad.
“A couple of times,” said Gabriel, without evident pride. “She toured the Heartgarden twice while I was in training. Her tutors were showing her how to treat a man, and how it didn’t matter if none of the noble sons she might choose to marry were pretty enough, because she could keep as many consorts as she wanted as well. Whenever she had time to spare, she found something to tease me about.”
“When she shows up, it must override the whole program, mustn’t it?” asked Elizabeth.
“Of course,” Gabriel answered, with tightly compressed resistance. “She’s the princess. And now, I’m not going to have time for makeup, or even—”
“Here.” Elizabeth turned around.
Gabriel was mostly dressed, cinched into his usual tight hourglass form, with his petticoats and gown all in place. He was wrestling a stiff brush through his long hair.
“I can at least help you with that.” Elizabeth reached for the brush.
“With respect,” Gabriel hesitated to relinquish it, “what would a lady know about—”
“With respect,” said Elizabeth, “I have hair too. And the kinds of tangles yours can support? Child’s play.”
Gabriel skeptically eyed Elizabeth’s naturally rather spectacular black curls, already tied out of the way in her usual, simple ponytail, and handed her the brush.
Holding his slippery-smooth, barely wavy hair near the roots so as not to hurt him, Elizabeth deftly worked the minor knots out of its length while he applied his subtle, berry-toned lip color.
“Do you…?” Elizabeth slowly put words to the uneasy feeling in her stomach. “Do you think she’d remember you?”
#
“That one,” Princess Phaedia pointed squarely at Gabriel, out of the hundreds of aspiring consorts gathered in the entrance hall to welcome her. “That’s the one I want. I’m so glad you still have him. I knew I should have sent word for you to save him for me after the last time. Ah well, it all worked out.”
Elizabeth’s limbs and lungs suddenly felt as if they were made of wood.
Gabriel reached behind him and gripped her hand, pulling her out of formation.
The aspirants and guests were all lined up along the walls of the entrance hall, with the guests toward the outside, consorts toward the inside, so that the princess could admire their beauty up close as she and her entourage entered.
Phaedia certainly looked as if she had come to make a grand entrance, in her long, golden cloak, purple doublet, and bombasted hose. Perhaps it was only habit at this point, however, because she had not even bothered to walk the full length of the hall before fixing her attention on Gabriel and bringing the proceedings to a halt.
“His key, if you please, Headmistress?” Phaedia held out her hand.
Jane was standing before of the dias at the front of the room, prepared to deliver a hurriedly prepared welcome speech she was now realizing would not be necessary.
“Apologies, your highness, it’s somewhat more complicated than that,” said Jane, marching down the aisle to join the princess and bowing her head in deference. “He has already been claimed, purely on a trial basis, of course. I do not currently hold his key.”
Only then did the Phaedia’s gaze follow Gabriel’s arm, to find it wound tightly around Elizabeth’s.
“Yes, of course,” the princess nodded at Elizabeth. “She’ll have to be compensated for the inconvenience. How many consorts was she offered? One? Two? See that it’s doubled, whatever it is.”
“There’s another issue as well,” Jane said delicately. “Gabriel is due for extraction today, after a one-week delay. Performing another claiming ritual with him now would not be ideal for his health, and he would certainly not be able to perform his role up to our usual standards.”
“And?” asked the princess. “We’ll have to create a new ritual for the occasion. The standard one involves reminding him that I will be the sole giver and withholder of his pleasure and pain, correct? Why don’t I simply perform his extraction myself? That would combine the vital aspects nicely. I’d want to learn how to do it sooner or later anyway.”
“Very well,” said Jane, hesitantly. “If your highness is certain. The procedure can be rather undignified, for the one providing it, as well as—”
“I’m quite certain,” Phaedia insisted. “Will right here do?”
“I, uh, I don’t see why not,” Jane said, then raised her voice to address the serving boys in the back. “Fetch the extraction tools! Sir Elizabeth,” she turned to look at her. “You have the key with you, of course?”
Elizabeth nodded mechanically.
One step at a time, she found herself accompanying Gabriel, Jane, and Princess Phaedia up the aisle to the dias, in front of nearly the full population of the Heartgarden.
After the first few steps, Gabriel released her arm, stretched his hands, and hung them purposefully at his sides, in a practiced façade of poise. His Adam’s apple fluttered each time he tried to moisten his throat.
Though they were still only inches apart, Elizabeth felt as if they had been flung to opposite sides of the realm.
#
“Do you understand that you have the right to forfeit your position as an eligible aspiring consort at this time, leave the Heartgarden without correction, and return to where you came from?” Jane asked, with unusual heaviness.
Princess Phaedia rolled her eyes.
"I do," said Gabriel.
"And you choose to stay?" Jane continued.
"Always," said Gabriel, with a solemn nod.
"Of course he does," said Phaedia, twirling her fingers impatiently.
“Sir Elizabeth, shield his eyes and remove his belt,” Jane directed.
Elizabeth tied the scarf around Gabriel’s eyes and lifted up his skirts in the back. For the second time within twelve hours, she turned her key in his padlock and removed the protective plate from his pelvis.
She wished he would say something more, but of course, that was absurd. Phaedia was the princess. Elizabeth was a guest, here by the queen’s own invitation, and even she could not imagine raising an objection that would do any good now.
Gabriel was only an aspirant.
He and Elizabeth might have become accustomed to flouting the formalities in private, but this moment could not have been less private. Out here, for as long as he chose to remain a Heartgarden aspirant, he could be severely disciplined for resisting instruction, speaking without permission, or volunteering a preference of any kind. And those were just the everyday rules, not accounting for the presence of royalty.
Elizabeth couldn’t decide whether it was comforting or not that he had rejected withdrawing from the Heartgarden as an option.
“Aspirant Gabriel, sit on the altar and prepare yourself for transferal. Your highness, if you would don the gloves,” Jane prompted.
Phaedia sighed but pulled on the fresh pair of sheepskin gloves. “Yes, best we save skin contact for a more intimate occasion, I suppose.”
“I would advise giving him no more than a light tickle now, to hint at pleasures that are possible under your care,” said Jane.
Phaedia reached down and grabbed Gabriel’s flaccid penis firmly in the palm of her glove. “I am your lady,” she murmured. “I, who will also be your queen. How lucky you are, to live in so simple a world.”
“Your highness,” Jane recited uncertainly, “do you vow to safeguard this aspirant’s chastity and virginity from all pleasurable human touch, and to uphold his training for his permanent lady, whether or not she be you?”
“Oh, she’ll be me, not to worry,” said Phadea.
“Ah… of course,” Jane cleared her throat and pressed on. “Gabriel, do you vow to respect, worship, serve, and obey Princess Phaedia as the highest-ranking person in your world, before even Her Majesty, for as long as you remain bound to her?”
“I do,” Gabriel answered, empty of all emotion.
Jane paused. This was usually when the aspirant’s endurance would be tested, but they were dispensing with that step today.
“Your highness, please take this aspirant into your keeping,” she improvised.
Phaedia fitted the chastity belt back over Gabriel’s pelvis, fed the lock into place, and held out her hand once more.
Elizabeth’s own hand shook as she allowed the key to slip through her fingers for the princess to catch.
Phaedia secured the padlock.
“Bend him over the altar,” Jane directed.
Phaedia guided the blindfolded Gabriel to turn over and kneel in front of the altar, resting his torso on the surface. Without waiting to be told, she folded his skirt up and over his back to bare his ass.
“Your true lady can bestow pain and pleasure at her fancy,” Jane paraphrased, then paused again, trying to tie the principles of the ritual together with the extraction procedure she was about to oversee.
Impatient, Phaedia examined the tools that had been laid out, picked up a slightly curved metal rod with a handle on one end and a knob at the other, and glanced to Jane to make sure it was the correct implement for the job.
Jane gave her a slight nod, still short on words.
“Your true lady… will always tend to your needs,” Elizabeth cut in, looking to Phaedia, to see if she objected to this description.
The princess looked more baffled than anything else.
“Though, uh, not necessarily in the way you would like,” Elizabeth continued. “Today, aspirant, you need a healthy rebalancing of your humors. You do not need pleasure. She has the power to give one and reserve the other for when she deems it appropriate.”
Phaedia smiled approvingly at this clarification and took a step toward Gabriel. Elizabeth quickly grabbed the bottle and rag from the assortment of tools and oiled the rod in the princess’s hands.
“Ah, thank you, sir,” said Phaedia, as if Elizabeth were just another official of the Heartgarden itself, here to serve.
Sweeping her long cloak well out of the way, the princess sat on the altar next to where Gabriel knelt, and fed the rod into his ass.
“Press down gently,” Jane coached, without directly criticizing the haphazard way the princess had begun pumping the rod in and out, ignoring the utility of its curve. “Feel your way forward until you detect a lump beneath the rod’s head. Then rub it firmly back and forth in a rhythmic motion.”
Phaedia followed these steps in her own time, as if they were coincidentally what she’d meant to do all along, rather than something she’d just been taught. She did seem to find the right lump, though, judging by the quality of the gasp she drew out of Gabriel at that particular moment.
The immediate reaction to such intimate contact evened out into an awkward silence before long, however.
Elizabeth paced nonchalantly around the altar, sneaking glances of Gabriel’s face and the metal casing around his penis. Neither showed much reaction. There was no swelling out of the end of the casing, and after a while, he began to gnaw restlessly at his lip, waiting for some kind of momentum to build.
“You have an uncontrollable urge to be owned,” Elizabeth repeated back what Gabriel had told her about himself on their first night together.
She kept her tone cool and appropriate for ritual, hoping that the reminder of his desires, spoken in her voice, might help him reach the end of this ordeal.
“You knew when you came here that you would never escape from yourself. You could only hope to be chosen by someone extraordinary.”
Phaedia made a regal gesture with her hand, which Elizabeth was sure had been used to welcome and wave away thousands of extravagant compliments over the years.
“No matter how daring your fashion, or how quick your wit,” Elizabeth went on, “no matter how often you fantasize about freedom, or fancy yourself a ‘loose’ man in the making, you will always find yourself locked up, with the key in the hand of one woman, because to you, that’s what home feels like.”
There came the response. Gabriel winced as the chastity belt crushed the beginnings of an erection into its downward curved shape. His hips began to move unconsciously, trying to grind against the metal that moved uselessly with him.
“You will be an excellent consort,” said Elizabeth.
Gabriel groaned, as a new but respectable batch of thick, white liquid began to drip from the opening of this belt.
“There,” said Phaedia proudly. “I knew I’d get the hang of it quickly enough.”
“And… with that, your trial has begun!” Jane announced, removing Gabriel’s blindfold.
The crowd applauded with an acceptable level of enthusiasm.
“Would you like me to show you and your new trial consort to your room?” asked Jane.
“No, I’m sure we’ll find it,” answered Phaedia, leading Gabriel down the steps of the dais toward her attendants, who still waited in the aisle left for them in the middle of the hall. “It’s the same room every time I visit.”
“That will be all, Sir Elizabeth,” Jane whispered, with what might have been pity at the corners of her eyes. “Go, enjoy the garden, we’ll discuss your compensation in more detail later.”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder to watch Elizabeth step graciously away, as she was expected to. His eyes, with their ungentlemanly strong eyebrows, remained his only avenue of truthful communication in this forum.
Don’t leave me, they pleaded. Not for good.
If he had any practical suggestions to offer on this point, Elizabeth was not astute enough to decipher them.
Comments
Kathryn Locksley
Can't let things run smoothly for too long 😉
Skippy
Oh no!
