I looked around for my Queen, and she caught my gaze and smiled. My stomach somersaulted in horror because I’d met her gaze in public. I looked down, but she teleported to me, cradled my cheek, and ordered, “Come for me, Little One. Show everyone how much you want to please me, how much you belong to me.”
I’d held my release off for so long, once it started I was no longer in control, and it hit me like a freight train. My shouts reverberated around the room while my entire body spasmed and writhed beneath the giant — my pleasure controlled my reactions and movements while my mind rocketed through the stratosphere, powered by pure, unadulterated bliss.
When the orgasm waned, my arousal level didn’t, and I moved and twisted in pleasure while the giant continued to fuck me. His time wasn’t up, and he seemed determined to get his money’s worth.
When his six minutes in my cunny were up, the giant lined his huge cock up at my bottom, and I took a breath and forced the muscles to relax and let him in. A guard had lubed both my holes before the giant started, so I knew I’d be slick.
I’ve had my bottom-hole torn before. I knew what it felt like, and knew I’d survive it. I didn’t know why The Winter Queen wanted this of me, but I’d accept it, since she did.
And I couldn’t ignore the throbbing of my clit when he lined up at my rear entrance and prepared to impale me.
The giant didn’t go slow. My yelps and shrieks filled the room because he pressed in as far as he could in a few shoves, and quickly began fucking me, hard and fast. He wasn’t all the way in, and he apparently didn’t want to take the time to force himself the rest of the way. For this, I was grateful, and I moved with him to give him the ride he was paying for, even though I was screaming in pain at the burning stretch of the ring of muscles around my opening. I was grateful he hadn’t torn me and was determined to do my best to keep him happy so he wouldn’t feel the need to push the rest of the way in.
His six minutes lasted an eternity. He never let up, never slowed, and also didn’t orgasm. When the time-master beat the drum to signify his paid-for time was over, the giant picked me up without coming out of me, and sat on an oversized chair someone had settled beside him earlier. He held my hands to my side and wrapped his arms around my belly, trapping my arms.
The Winter Queen’s whip struck my left tit without warning. She proceeded to give me thirty strikes in as many seconds while I screamed and writhed on the giant’s lap, his cock going farther and farther into my bottom with all my thrashing and twisting.
My breasts were on fire and I could feel bruises forming. However, even stretched and strained past my limit around his mammoth cock, I worked my muscles around him, milking his girth as best I could, and he came violently during the next whipping series to my breasts. I sighed in relief when he shrank a little inside me.
Eventually, my Queen finished whipping my breasts, and someone helped me up.
My legs would barely hold me, and I knew my face was tearstained and blotchy, but in the past weeks she’d told me how much she loved seeing me like this, so I didn’t try to hide my face from her.
I was Her Majesty’s slave, and I was thankful she enjoyed using me. I was happy and content, flying from the euphoria of the evening, though exhausted.
She stood in front of me, touched under my chin to give me permission to look into her eyes, and said, “I name you Tabitha Amabilis Winter, my little one. From here on, by royal edict, only I can call you Little One. Everyone else must use your name.”
I heard gasps from the crowd, and I felt as surprised and shocked as they seemed, but kept my voice even to respond, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I can never repay you for this prodigious gift. I’m touched more than words can say, my Queen.”
By giving me the surname Winter, she’d told everyone I was hers in a way slaves aren’t usually afforded. But by giving me her formal first name as my middle name, she’d claimed me in a way I didn’t think she’d ever claimed another.
Of course, I was still her slave, and — after a brief hug — my wrists were connected to a spreader bar and attached to a beam overhead, the ropes adjusted so I could barely stand flatfooted.
My Queen’s voice came soft, as if it were a suggestion. “Run in place, Little One. You know how I like to see you.”
I lifted my right leg so my knee nearly touched my nipple, and switched legs so my left knee came to my chest. I went slow for a half-dozen steps until I got the rhythm and convinced my feet and ankles to work, and then picked up the tempo and ran for her.
She used her leather strap on me, and I screamed and shrieked as each strike formed an individual welt, and she repeated it hundreds of times in an unending drum beat.
My feet and her strap made music together, a corresponding tympani accompanying the symphony of my shrieks, screams, sobs, and tears.
I hadn’t been able to manage the pain earlier when she whipped my breasts, but this was one of Her Majesty’s favorite ways to whip me — I could not only handle this, I could enjoy it.
The burn of my muscles, the fiery sting of the strap, the rhythm of my feet, and the added tempo of the snap of leather on my bottom, legs, and back. This was a reward, and while the people watching wouldn’t understand, I knew — and I loved my Queen all the more for giving this to me. She’d gifted me with her very name, and then gifted me with one of my favorite kinds of pain, and my tears now were because I felt so much emotion, as if my heart might grow too big for my chest.
She knew when I was close, and she ordered me to come for her at the perfect time. I screamed through my climax without losing step, and she hit harder, faster.
She hadn’t been lying about taking me farther than she had before, and when she finally dropped the strap to the ground, I stopped running and hung from my wrists, gasping for air.
I couldn’t list everything she did to me that night if I tried. I remember the bullwhip and several canes. I was bound to the post for some of it, and was stretched across a table for others. Near the end, she put me between columns in the courtyard outside, so my body formed an X. Other prisoners from the dungeon were all around me, also bound between columns, and they were whipped alongside me so our screams filled the night air. It struck me that this was likely an agonizing punishment for them, yet I was between them having orgasm after orgasm while I was beaten so far past exhaustion, I fell into a blissful deliria.
The Winter Queen knew how to deliver the most beautiful pain, ever.
Chapter Nine
Little One
I awoke in the Queen’s bed the next morning, and my heart stalled in my chest — panicked I’d be in trouble when she awoke and found me there. I’d never slept in her bed, and I’d never seen anyone else sleep there, either. Anyone who remained in her chambers overnight was bound. Always.
I was sliding off the mattress, intending to curl up on the floor at the foot of her bed, when she grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to her.
“Where are you going, my little Tabby girl?”
“I must’ve fallen asleep in your bed, my Queen. I was moving to the floor.”
“If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be, Little One.” She brushed my hair from my face. “There’s much to talk about with you today, and I’d like to go over as much of it as possible in private.” She sighed and let me go. “Hellfire. We’re going over all of it in private. Ring for the maid and let her know we’ll be taking our breakfast in here, please?”
Something wasn’t right. She’d asked me, and used please. My heart fell to my stomach.
“Have I done something to displease you, my Queen?” It was a risk to ask before I followed orders, but she’d asked me instead of ordering.
“No, but others in my queendom have, and my sister is making sure they suffer the consequences for doing so.”
“Your sister is helping you?” Everyone knew the Summer and Winter Queens hated each other.
“She’s in charge of the queendom right now, so it’s her responsibility to
deal with miscreants. She isn’t doing it as a favor to me, but because it’s the right thing to do.”
I requested breakfast of the maid at the door, and went to my knees when I approached the Queen’s bed again.
“Oh, Little One, you’re such a treasure, but I need to explain some things. Come back to bed so I can hold you while we talk.”
I’d never been in Her Majesty’s bed when not being used, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t remember being in it the night before, and assumed I’d been unconscious.
Now, she put me on my back, looking up, with Her Majesty lying on her side, her head propped on one hand while the other rested on my belly.
“We have people who watch the maternity wards at hospitals in the human realm, so if someone is born with Fae characteristics and can’t pass as human, they’re brought to The Summerlands. Your biological parents were told you died, and shown a fake dead baby created by magic on this side. Unfortunately, when you were brought over, rules were skirted. Your paperwork says the searches for your family were done, but it turns out, they weren't. You should’ve never gone into the slave market.”
“I have family? Can I meet my parents?” I’d been told I hadn’t been able to survive in the human world, and no family in the Summerlands had claimed me, so I was a slave. As I’d grown older, the other halfling slaves had said we had Fae families, they just hadn’t wanted to take responsibility for the product of their dalliance in the human realm. I was a slave and there was no way around it, but I’d wondered what it might be like to have a family, back when I was too young to understand the futility of such thoughts.
Later, when I’d been sold the first time, I’d learned I was only a quarter pixie, and not even a halfling. No wonder my family hadn’t wanted me.
“You can’t go to your parents, Little One.” Her Majesty seemed so sad, and I was sorry I was causing her grief. Before I could apologize, she continued. “I don’t know if they’re still alive or not, but if they are, they can’t know you didn’t die at birth. However, you know you’re one-quarter pixie, which means you have a pixie grandfather. He long ago went into the human realm and impregnated your human grandmother. She didn’t know what he was and thought he came to her in a dream. Her son’s hair was close enough to the human shade of red to pass. His ears were pointed, but your grandfather arranged for them to be cut and magically healed when he was only a few hours old, so the boy could remain with his mother. Your grandfather had no idea his human son had impregnated a woman, so he didn’t know to check on you when you were born.”
She touched my hair, twirled it around her finger, and let it go. “Your biological mother’s hair is light blonde — it made your red brighter and must have brought out your yellow.”
Had the Queen seen my mother? Or had she been told? So many questions swirled in my brain, I didn’t know what to ask. Mostly, I was terrified, because my beloved Queen was so sad.
Her Majesty lifted my hand and stroked my thumbnail. “Who knows what genetic soup made the purple and green nails skip your father but come out in you, but these nails are a trademark of your family. I saw them and had someone double-check, but your paperwork showed the search had been made and no family claimed you. However, your great-uncle saw you with me a few weeks ago, and started a search. Your grandfather then went through the proper channels to claim you. They’ve documented the trail from your grandfather to you, and magic has confirmed the relationship. As of this morning’s sunrise, you’re free, and your family is coming to get you today.”
I think she expected me to respond, but I couldn’t. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over, and I wanted to tell her she couldn’t send me away, but I was smart enough not to tell The Dark Queen what she could or couldn’t do. Still, she couldn’t. I belonged to her! I didn’t want to go with strangers. My heart hurt at the thoughts of losing my Dark Queen. Tears flowed, and I couldn’t stop them.
When I didn’t say anything, Her Majesty continued. “I arranged yesterday’s activities for two reasons. I wanted to give you a proper goodbye — one last hurrah before you became a free woman. However, the most important point is that the money you earned last night is yours. It’s more than most people make in five years, and will support you while you figure out what kind of job you’d like and get whatever education you’ll need. I’m certain your grandfather will provide for you as needed, but I want to send you out into the world with your own assets, my darling little Tabby girl.”
She caressed my cheek and smoothed my hair. Tears flowed from my eyes and down my temples, and I know she felt the dampness in my hair, but she didn’t mention it.
“The moneys earned by the prisoners and ponies will go into a trust fund. You’ll receive it on the summer solstice that marks five years since you arrived at my castle.” She leaned in and kissed my right cheek, wet from my tears. “You’ll receive this second trust fund once you’ve had enough time to be properly educated and figure out who you are as a freeperson. You’ll be able to purchase a house and start just about any business you choose.”
“No!” I’d never said the word to her before, never refused an order, but it came out now and I wasn’t sorry. I sat up, and tears streamed down my face until both cheeks were wet. “I’m yours, my Queen. I belong to you! I don’t want my freedom!”
She sat and faced me. Her face showed grief, and she didn’t seem even a little angry at my outburst. “My darling Tabby-girl — I gave you a name so you will always be mine. You can visit me, and perhaps someday you can be mine behind closed doors, but you aren’t a slave anymore, Little One.”
Her words slammed into my chest, into my soul. Whatever a freeperson in Faerie names, they own forever. I’d been numbered, and called by a physical attribute, but no one had named me. No one had wanted to own me forever — not until Her Majesty. She couldn’t send me away! I loved her so!
“That’s why you named me? So I’d have a name before my family came to get me?”
“I planned to give you a real name once I was reigning Queen again, so I could put more magic into the name and the ceremony. However, I hastened my timetable so I could be the one to name you, before your family claimed you.”
“But I want to be your artwork, your thing of beauty, your property, your slave! If I’m free, I can’t be yours!”
Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t bruised and didn’t hurt. My cunny had been torn last night, and I didn’t feel it at all. My rear entrance should’ve been raw and on fire, but it was fine. I looked down and didn’t see any whip marks or bruises.
“You healed me.” It sounded like an accusation, and I rushed to say, “My Queen, I’m sorry, I’m just... I don’t know what to say, or think. This is too much!”
My heart stilled, and I looked at my forearm. My magical tattoo was gone. The world stopped for me, in that moment. Life no longer had a purpose. She’d forsaken me. I didn’t belong to her anymore. My heart shattered in my chest and grief threatened to drown me. I couldn’t breathe, and the room swam.
Maids arrived with our food, and I went silent while they set everything up. Showing insolence in private was bad enough, doing so with an audience was unthinkable. The maids moved as if everything was normal, as if my world hadn’t just ended. I felt as if I’d been implanted into a horrible nightmare from which I couldn’t escape. Air filled my lungs again, and I wished it hadn’t. Life would be easier if I could just stop breathing and fade out of existence.
When they left, Her Majesty told me, “If you want to please me, Little One, you’ll leave with your family without kicking up a fuss. You won’t tell them I’ve given you your own funds, and you’ll be happy to meet your blood relatives. I’ll send a guard with you, to keep you safe, and I’ll get feedback from him as to what he believes their intentions are. I believe they truly want to welcome you into the family fold, and are horrified someone with Amethyst blood running through her veins has suffered a life of slavery. If I discover their purpose is to whore you out, o
r if I hear they aren’t treating you well, I’ll remove you from their custody. However, if they become your family and come to love you over time, I’ll be happy for you.”
My tears flowed again, and choked me until I could barely breathe. I could only get a few words in between my wracking sobs. “You know I’ll do anything you ask of me, Your Majesty, but please don’t ask this of me, my Queen.”
Her Majesty looked away, but not before I saw immense sadness written across her face. When she looked back, I softened my voice and repeated, “I love you, Your Majesty, my Queen. Please don’t ask this of me.”
“Oh, my beautiful, perfect, little one. I know this is hard, but it’s for the best.” She stroked my arm and kissed the top of my head. “My sister has stepped in and decreed you get your freedom, but I’d have made the same decision if I were the reigning Queen. It isn’t about what I can legally get away with, but about what’s right. If the proper procedures had been followed when you were first brought to The Summerlands, you’d have grown up with your family.”
She cradled my cheek and forced me to look at her. “Your family, Little One. I need you to experience what it means to be part of a loving family. You say you’ll do anything for me? Give them a chance.”
She didn’t let go of my cheek, and I finally gave as much of a nod as I could without dislodging her hand, and said, “Yes, my Queen.”
“I’ve had a trunk with clothes and books taken to the front of the castle, so it can be loaded onto your grandfather’s carriage. You’ll find instructions to let you know which shoes to wear with each outfit, so you won’t have to decide.” She glanced at the door and back to me. “The suitcase at the door has an outfit and some shoes on top. You’ll take the suitcase with you, and you’ll put the clothes on. Now.”
Slave Page 8
