The Tournament

by Vora, Scarlett

  Pirate said nothing, not even to grunt. He stared at her breasts, his mouth open, tongue loose and softly curled between his blocky teeth. When Ruby pinched and squeezed her own nipples, he stopped thrusting and began to grind at her. He made a faint, vulnerable noise when he came, then rolled away without a word.

  Ruby pushed herself up into a sitting position. She was sticky and filthy and overwhelmed. It was too early to use up one of her precious baths, but a few minutes with a pitcher of water would do her a world of good.

  A hand shoved her from behind. Ruby rocked forward, onto her elbows. Her bare ass lifted, and semen dribbled onto her thighs. Slim, dextrous fingers cupped her mound, caught the flow.

  "Are you ready?" It was Voyeur, scooping up the cum just as he'd promised. He smeared it around her asshole and then went digging for more.

  She'd prepared herself for anal sex that morning. She'd douched, she'd opened herself. It was important to be ready; that could count for a lot later on. Voyeur's thumb slid right into her ass, which made him so excited that he squirted out a dribble of cum.

  "Oh, shit," he whined, grabbing his cock and squeezing the head, as though he could stop any more from coming out. "Oh, shit."

  Ruby braced herself.

  In a hurry now, Voyeur stuck his cock in as far as he could on a single thrust. He pumped awkwardly, trying to dig deeper. "Hold on," he said, angrily. "Stop moving."

  For all the good it did him. He came before he'd got all the way inside of her.

  "Worthless cunt." Voyeur shoved her into the dirt. "Just give me a minute, you'll see—"

  "I think it's time you left the tent," said a calm voice from above. Ruby rolled to see the speaker. He was lean and well-muscled, with a smooth bald head and kind eyes.

  Ruby's heart fluttered in her chest. Had she failed? She hadn't refused Voyeur, but she'd wanted to.

  "The law says we can have them as often as we want," snapped Voyeur. "And that we can take them however we want."

  "The women in the Tents are citizens," said the man with kind eyes. Helper. He dropped down to a squat, putting his head level with Voyeur's. "If you can't respect their service, you have no right to benefit from it."

  "We're supposed to push them," insisted Voyeur. "That's the point. You think the King is going to be respectful—"

  "I think the King knows how to use his cock," interrupted Helper, sharply. "Something you have yet to learn."

  Voyeur flushed a deep red.

  "Go," said Helper. "And if I see you in the Tents again today, I'll whip you before morning drills tomorrow."

  Voyeur scrambled away, resentful but obedient.

  "Thank you," said Ruby.

  "Things get hectic in here," said Helper, combing his fingers through her hair. "Now, you need a break, don't you?"

  Ruby nodded.

  "Just sit where you are." Helper gestured for her to scoot around so that she sat with her back to his front. "A girl as beautiful as you are won't make it halfway to the pink tent. I can keep the others at bay, and I don't carry a timepiece." He massaged her neck and shoulders, smoothing away knots of tension. "Close your eyes. I'll watch out for you."

  "Mmm." Ruby closed her eyes. "Your hands are amazing."

  "Massage is a useful skill for a soldier." He worked his way down her back, slow and thorough. His hands were strong. "Easier to drill day after day when you aren't sore all the time."

  "How interesting," Ruby murmured.

  "On your back now." He helped her lie down. "I'm going to start on your feet," he explained, holding her foot in his lap and kneading her instep in a firm, rolling motion.

  Around them, the chaos of fucking continued, but Ruby felt like she'd stumbled into an oasis of calm. Worry sighed out of her with every breath.

  Helper switched to her other foot. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

  "So good," Ruby agreed.

  "Now your calves." He smoothed his palms up her shins, squeezed his way back down to her ankles, then did it again.

  "Mmm," Ruby said, appreciatively.

  Helper pummeled the thick muscles of her thighs with his fists. He spread her legs and kneaded his way up and down her inner thighs. Cool air hit her pussy lips and Ruby gasped, calmed only when Helper laid a heavy hand on her flat belly and rubbed in a slow, soothing circle.

  And then those lovely, heavy hands were sliding up her torso, the fingers splaying wide as they met the rise of her ribcage and then closing again, as he cupped her breasts.

  Ruby's eyes flew open.

  "I'm sorry," said Helper. "I can't wait."

  He lowered his head to suck on one pink nipple. He did that expertly, too, his tongue rough and warm, using just enough suction to make her feel it deep down.

  Ruby tilted her hips. His eyelids drooped as he penetrated her, his cock just the right size to make Ruby feel full and good. He was so beautifully made.

  "Do you want to kiss me?" Ruby asked.

  He sealed his lips to hers, slipped his tongue between her teeth. They lay belly to belly, slicked with sweat and dirt. He rolled his hips and she rose to meet his thrusts, the slow warm flush of another orgasm building within her. He saw it happening and helped her along. "Like this?" he asked, shifting his angle. "Like this?"

  She was still tingling with the aftermath when he pulled out.

  "I want to finish in your mouth."

  Ruby rose up on her knees. Helper fed her his cock, musky with her own juices and gobbed with semen. "All the way in," he urged, stroking tender fingers through her hair. His was big enough to make her jaw ache, but she knew he'd expect the same quality of service from her that he'd offered. She ignored the pain, relaxed, and took him down her throat.

  Helper sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

  Ruby set a good rhythm, bobbing on the thick bar of Helper's cock, withdrawing long enough to fill her lungs before sucking him down again. When she felt lightheaded, she licked and sucked and squeezed until the white flecks faded from her vision. She sucked his cock clean and coated it in drool, while he pet her hair and breathed harshly above her.

  It took a long time to make him come.

  "You've got a golden cunt," said Helper, squatting down to wipe away a bit of semen from her lips. "But your mouth could move mountains. Holy fuck."

  Ruby smiled woozily.

  Helper hooked one arm under her knees and the other around her back, then rose to his feet. "I'll get you to the break room," he said, cradling her in his arms. "You've earned it."

  2

  The Pavilion

  Officer had been right. By dusk, even a bath couldn't revive her. And while Ruby refused to give up before she'd earned a bead, as the day wore on many of the aspirants who'd arrived in the morning decided they couldn't take any more, and left.

  The soldiers, on the other hand, kept arriving. Only the strategic and the greedy showed up before noon. Most arrived after dark, lustful and smelling of liquor.

  By night's end, Ruby was too weary to mind the soldiers who treated her roughly or thank the ones who were kind. Her knees were reddened and raw from kneeling and every vertebra in her spine had marked a corresponding raw spot on her back. Her cunt, her ass, and her throat all burned.

  She was too sore for pleasure of any kind. There were moments, when one soldier replaced the next while she lay limp and unmoving, when Ruby wished she had the strength to quit.

  She tried not to cry.

  When the last soldier filed out of the tent, Ruby counted the girls that remained. There had been hundreds, at one point. Now? Only thirty.

  "The King thanks you for your generosity," said the Steward, handing her an amethyst bead. He beckoned a serving girl to approach. The serving girl helped Ruby to her feet and wrapped a soft blanket around her shoulders.

  The Steward thanked every girl personally. When he was done, each bedraggled aspirant stood next to a bright-eyed Palace servant.

  "All of you have earned the King's hospitality," said the Steward. "We o
ffer you the comfort of good food and uninterrupted rest, for so long as you need it. Recover at your own pace, and do not fear the days to come. The life of a Queen balances hardship and leisure. You will have a taste of each."

  Ruby closed her eyes. His words were so sweet she almost couldn't bear it. The tears that had been threatening for so long leaked out.

  The serving girl at her side laid a hand on her back, steadying her.

  "Your service in the tents keeps our army strong, and our army keeps the country strong," continued the Steward. "You have done your country a true service, and we hope you will wear your bracelet with pride.

  "However, before we enter the Pavilion, I must make something clear. You are always free to go, but there is only one way to etner, and that is through these Tents."

  "We can't leave and come back?" asked one of the girls.

  "You may leave," the Steward said. "But you will lose any progress you have made in the Tournament. You will have to begin again, and repeat the First Trial on a day when the Tents are open."

  Ruby shuddered. She knew one thing, for certain: if being Queen was anything like a day in the Tents, she wanted none of it. She'd take her beads and go home, and she'd never envy her betters again.

  "I wish you all a good rest," said the Steward.

  "Will you come inside?" asked the serving girl. "There's a bath waiting, and a feather bed."

  "I will," answered Ruby.

  The girl led Ruby through an arched doorway at the back of the Tents and through the Palace gates. It was too dark to see much of the Pavilion, only magelights glowing softly in a sea of tents, illuminating the blue and white silk from within. The bathing chamber held rows of tubs made from lightweight tin, plumes of steam clouding the air.

  Ruby's heart melted at the sight of so much hot, clean water. Her second bath had been hours earlier and she wore a foul crust of dirt and bodily fluids. She hurt, yes, but she also itched.

  But when the serving girl gestured to an empty tub, Ruby could only stare at it dully, too tired to lift her legs and step into the water.

  The serving girl helped Ruby into the tub and bathed her like a baby, humming a lullaby as she lathered a clean cloth with soap and scoured Ruby's limbs, one by one. The pampering made Ruby sleepy, and when urged to stand, Ruby stumbled and fell to her knees. The servant caught her, held her by the waist, and lifted her legs out of the tub one by one.

  Ruby stood quietly while the girl rubbed a dense, perfumed lotion into her skin and then reached for a small, faceted crystal jar.

  "Blessed ointment for your wounds," the girl explained, massaging a thick, clear grease into the folds of Ruby's cunt and past the loosened muscles of her ass. She had a light, gentle touch, and Ruby noticed her bracelet for the first time. Four beads. "You'll heal quickly."

  The serving girl guided Ruby to a small tent. It was empty but for a short stack of mattresses heaped with silken sheets and feather pillows.

  "This tent is yours," said the serving girl, easing Ruby onto the soft bed. She tucked the sheets around Ruby's chin and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Rest now, and sleep deep."

  Ruby woke to warmth and light. The hidden sun set the tent's yellow silk walls aglow, bathing Ruby in a shower of gold. She snuggled into the mattress and stretched, surprised to find that she felt…good. Sore, yes. Especially her thighs, where they'd been stretched, and her back. Her cunt and ass ached, but she'd felt deeper pains after a long night with a single lover. The blessed ointment had done its work.

  Ruby donned the white robe that had appeared on a loop next to the tent flaps and stepped outside. Ruby's sleeping tent fit into a tight grid of identical tents, rows of them. Hundreds of them, one for every aspirant. Beyond the sleeping tents the Pavilion opened up, tents and gardens and walkways bordered with flowers. Beautiful women swam in marble-bottomed pools or sunbathed naked beneath massive silken umbrellas. Others sat, pen in hand, in the cool shade of a pillared gazebo.

  A passing servant pointed Ruby toward an open-air buffet. She filled a porcelain plate from tables decked with fresh fruit and honey, iced milk and buttered pastry, and took a thick, soft blanket from a pile to unfold on the grass.

  "Food fit for a queen," said one girl, licking thick yogurt from a spoon.

  Ruby certainly couldn't imagine anything more lavish or tempting.

  The serving girl who'd tended Ruby after the First Trial glided into view. "It's good to see you awake," she said, kneeling at Ruby's side. "My name is Lily. For so long as you remain in the Pavilion, I'm here to satisfy any of your wants."

  She trailed cool fingers along Ruby's thigh. "I can paint your nails and dye your hair. I can provide you with skin treatments so rare that ladies of the Court must scheme to obtain the smallest quantities. What I can't anticipate, you may request. If you seek amusement or advice, I am here to help you, and you alone."

  Ruby caressed the girl's silken hair and slender neck. "Can you tell me about the next Trial?"

  Lily leaned into Ruby's touch like a cat, but she shook her head no.

  "I didn't think so." Ruby pet her again, scratching her scalp a little. "You can call me Ruby."

  The girl pulled away, blushing. "How do you feel?"

  "Good," Ruby answered. "Well used."

  "The King's doctor will examine you today. He'll want to see you after every Trial, whether you pass or fail. Trust him to treat your hurts, and never hide a wound from him. The Trials can be painful, but you will not win beads by suffering."

  "Thank you, Lily."

  She lounged beneath an umbrella all morning, too tired for anything more taxing, until a shadow blocked the warm sun. She opened her eyes to see a lean, dark-haired man standing by her feet. He looked young, though stern, and wore loose robes in the King's colors.

  "Aspirant," he said. "Come with me."

  Ruby followed the man to a spacious tent that smelled of camphor. A temporary examination room in the heart of the Pavilion.

  "Take off your robe and lie on that table," instructed the doctor, pointing with his chin while he drew a pair of thin, membranous gloves over his hands. "With your hips flush to the edge."

  Ruby hung her robe on a wooden stand that seemed designed for the purpose and climbed onto a long, narrow table. As instructed, she scooted her hips until they were flush to the edge and let her legs dangle.

  "Good girl." The doctor lifted her feet into straps that hung from a rack overhead, manipulating a pully until her legs were spread high and wide. "What's your name?"

  "Ruby," she answered.

  "Well, Ruby, let's see how you're recovering from the First Trial." He pulled a stool up to the end of the table and sat between her legs.

  Ruby stared up at the tented ceiling, a blaze of white silk, tensing with each second that passed by.

  He probed the folds of her cunt. His gloved fingers were dry, but slicker than if they'd been greased. "Still red and tender, are we?"

  "Yes," Ruby admitted.

  "Is there pain when you walk, and when you sit?"

  "A little."

  He traced slow circles around the entrance to her cunt. Ruby held her breath. The back of her neck prickled. After her exertions in the Tournament tent, she didn't want sex, but if the King's doctor asked her….

  "Lubricating well," said the doctor, slipping something inside of her cunt that expanded and opened her up like a balloon. "And no permanent damage. But the vagina is surprisingly resilient. Let me raise you up a bit…." The pulley squeaked, lifting Ruby's rear a few inches above the table.

  The doctor removed the instrument from her cunt. He fingered her asshole, greasing it, before repeating his inspection.

  "The Tournament wouldn't be possible without blessed ointment," he observed, removing the instrument and touching the tender, puckered hole with his strange glove. "But you'll be fine in a day or two. You have a beautiful cunt, Ruby."

  "Thank you," said Ruby.

  "Looking at it makes me hard."

 
"Why don't you fuck me on the table," Ruby invited. "While I lie here helpless and exposed."

  "That's how it feels to you," said the doctor, unhooking her feet from the straps and letting her sit up. "The harness reminds me of work, and you're not ready to have sex yet."

  "But I can touch you." Ruby reached out to grasp his erection through the folds of his robe. He had a nice, thick cock. She gasped with delight as she stroked and squeezed all along its length until a damp spot soaked through the fabric.

  "Look at you," said the doctor. "Soon you'll have a wrist full of beads."

  The implication was clear: as a woman gathered beads, she gained status. The King's doctor was an important man, but if Ruby collected enough beads to outrank him, he'd be forbidden from asking her for sexual favors.

  "Right now I only have one," said Ruby.

  The doctor raised the robe to bare his long legs and slim hips, and his lovely hard cock. "Jerk me off." He stepped between her parted knees. "I want to see my cum drip down your breasts."

  "Fast?" Ruby demonstrated, squeezing tight and jerking hard. "Or slow?" She eased her grip and twisted her wrist with a slow, controlled stroke.

  "Fast. I don't have much time. I have many examinations to do before I can report back to the King."

  "What's he like?" Ruby asked.

  "Pay attention to my cock now, and I'll tell you a secret while you're soaking in my cum."

  "I love your cock," moaned Ruby in a breathy, desperate voice, jerking as hard as she could. "I want you to fuck me with your cock. I want you to shove it deep inside my cunt. I want to wrap my lips around you and suck you dry. You make me so wet."

  He shot cum all over her breasts. Ruby dragged her finger through the mess, smearing semen on her nipple, and then licked it clean.

  "I've had concubines in the King's harem who couldn't make me come as fast as you just did." The doctor let his robe drop. "Here is your secret. Many women leave the Tournament with only one bead because they think the Second Trial is just like the first. It's not."

  Ruby held her breath. Everybody knew about the First Trial. Almost all the women in Morrow participated at least once, and they traded memories over the fire into old age. But the later Trials, even the Second Trial, were secret. Ruby asked many women about their experiences. None would even hint at what to expect.