The Queen and Her Conquest (Closed for LordUsagi)

Queen Isolde

Somewhat reluctantly Isolde put the instruments of her pleasure aside.

"Your acquiescence came at a terrible time," Isolde began "that was beginning to feel very nice. Your punishment will now be two fold; firstly for disobeying me and refusing to keep an open mind, and the second will be for interrupting my pleasure."

Isolde got to her feet and motioned for Vernard to come into the room.

"Shut the door behind you and then lean against the post of my bed. I want your stomach against the post and your hands together above your head."
 
Vernard

She had a way of annoying him, not by her actions but her words. Her words stung him and he felt as if he had let her down and that annoyed him. Why should he care if his enemy was angered by his actions, she had no control over him.

He entered the room and closed the door, welcoming the relief from the cold. His first instinct was to fall to his knees before her and beg to pleasure her as she wanted. He was not sure exactly how to go about it but was certain with her guidance and natural instinct he could accomplish it. It would not be hard to figure out what would please a woman and unlike his now fully hard and erect manhood, his mouth would not become limp at his pleasures pinnacle.

But he had shown his disobedience already and to change his mind would be a sign of weakness. He walked across the room and leaned over her bed post, his arms stretched out before him. His heart beat rapidly in expectation of what was to come and thoughts of kneeling before her.
 
Queen Isolde

Isolde was pleased that he had managed to position himself without rebelling. It was better for him that he did, because any more cheek would have caused her to up his punishment quite significantly.

Isolde dropped her toy, got to her feet on her bed and walked across the mattress. She bent over when she reached the end and picked up some long leather straps that were coiled and tied and then unpicked the knot. Working with practised ease she strapped his hands together before strapping them to the post of the bed and tying the knot tightly. Her next move was to pick a leather flogger before leaning over, her face so close to his own that she could feel his breath on her cheek. She grabbed his face, hard, and stared into his eyes intensely.

"Your insolence this far has earned you punishment. There are worse things that I could do, but I chose not to. You are new to my Kingdom and even newer to my bedchamber, but you need to be aware that I ask for obedience for a reason. I hope to teach you that tonight."

Isolde slid off the bed and walked past Vernard, allowing the tails of the flogger to brush his side as she did so. She positioned himself a few steps behind him, admiring the sight of his fine form strapped up and helpless to her whims.

"I want you to count each stroke. You have earned yourself fifteen. I want no other sound save for numbers. Do you understand me?" Isolde waited for only a split second before continuing. "Start counting when you are ready. And make sure I do not wait for long."

Isolde stood at the ready, a smile creeping over her lips as she waited to his his voice complying with her command.
 
He swallowed nervously as she walked behind him. Although he didn't suspect her flogging would hurt him, he still was anticipating the excitement of pain. This was all new to Vernard, he never saw himself as this subservient to another person, but yet he felt a strange arousal.

"Yes my queen."

Clearing his throat in anticipation, he stated loudly, "one."
 
Queen Isolde

"One."

Thwack.

The first strike of her flogger hit him right across the backside. If he continued to count the next three would also. Even though inflicting pain just for the sake of it wasn't something that Isolde was want to do, inflicting this pain that was not only teaching him but pleasuring him made her nethers fill with desire.
 
Vernard

The first taste of the flogger was more of a shock than pain. Vernard's muscular behind contracted as the trips of leather lashed across them. He could feel his manhood tighten at the thought of being helpless before her. It was a strange sensation to him, to be subservient to another. A strange sensation of arousal that caused his members head to leak the first hints of desire.

"Two"

Again he felt the leather lash him, again it was not painful, again it was arousing but he kept silent. He did not want her to know she was tightening her hold on him. Although the sting and shock increased slightly from the second flogging, there was no need for him to show any discomfort.

"Three"

An increase in the pain this time, which still did not cause him to do anything more than flinch his glutes. He did not wait long before turning to look over his shoulder at her and smile.

"Four"

He should have waited longer between the blows, as this one caused him to wince slightly, although it could not be classed as painful yet. Still looking at her he did not smile this time.

"Five"
 
Queen Isolde

"Good..." Isolde murmured just after she delivered the fifth stroke, looking into his stubborn eyes. "Very good Vernard, you are taking your punishment admirably."

Isolde stayed her hand and closed the distance between them with a few sultry steps. She the pressed her own naked body against his back, her free hand running up and down his side.

"The ice can be cold, harsh." She whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke. "But you'll also find that it can nurture life as well as hurt it. You can use it to preserve food, to melt down and drink, or even to inspire lusts that create something that one person alone has no hope of creating." As she spoke, Isolde's hand moved over Vernard's hip, then stomach, and then down to gently grasp his erect manhood. With slow and purposeful strokes she pleasured him, her pressure light but confident.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, she took three large steps back and away from his inviting warmth and readied the flogger.

"Continue counting." She ordered. Now that his backside had a bit of a break she would be able to continue without it physically harming him.
 
While she was stroking him he moaned softly. The feeling of her hand upon his member was such a contrast to the recent soft bite of the flogger.

When she stepped away he was disappointed but thought she had decided to stay her hand and forgo the remaining lashes. Perhaps they would become one, their two bodies joined by his massive member as it opened her to his desire. There could very well be men as large as him, and she maybe had experienced them, but he knew his own stamina and he was sure she would never have experienced the likes of him.

As he was about to thank her and ask if he could service her, she told him to continue to count.

He looked over his shoulder at her and nodded.

"Yes mistress."

He was determined to show her he could take her punishment so he prepared to count off the remaining lashes quickly.

"Six"
 
Queen Isolde

After the sixth stroke of her whip, the next five passed with impressive swiftness. Isolde was intrigued by Vernard's eagerness to end her punishment, despite the fact that he so clearly enjoyed it.

"Stop." Isolde ordered when Vernard counted eleven. "You have taken your punishment well thus far. As a reward you can select the implement for your next four strikes. Isolde walked around Vernard and placed her favourite flogger on the end of the bed with the rest of her implements, and motioned for Vernard to select the tool for his punishment.
 
Vernard

He looked at the implements, then back at her. He wondered what she would think of his next choice. He had the strange sensation to be punished, to feel pain and maybe even humiliation. Isolde was not cruel, but something about her caused him to feel aroused by her actions.

"The paddle...the one with the metal studs."

He looked to see her response. To see if she noted his excited anticipation of the touch she was about to unleash on him.

"And my queen, your subject begs you to punish him harshly for his disobedience."
 
Queen Isolde

Queen Isolde was almost as shocked by his choice as she was by his words. She had suspected that he would select the most harmless looking instrument, but instead he picked something that would be sure to cause him pain. His request for punishment made her nether regions flood with arousal, and she tool up her new tool eagerly.

"Since you have asked for harsh punishment, I am only too eager to comply." Isolde said, her voice a soft purr full of warning and promise. "Now straighten up. Remember, I don't want to hear a sound from you other than the count. If I hear so much as one moan, one minuscule sigh, your punishment will only get worse."

Isolde stood behind him again and prepared herself.

"I believe we left off at eleven." She said, and the next instant she brought the studded leather paddle down to throttle the soft, now reddened, skin of his exposed behind.
 
His body jerked as the paddle bit into the skin. The pain was not overwhelming yet and he could hold back the urge to mutter anything. His lips instead remained tightly sealed as he steeled his voice.

"Twelve."

He was so eager to feel the arousing pain he almost said 'thirteen' before she even brought the paddle down. When she did his head jerked back and he had to clench his teeth to keep silent. That action combined with the sudden pain of the second meaningful blow made his eyes swell slightly with the beginnings of tears. He knew he could not let her see his weakness so through clenched teeth he grimaced a 'Thirteen'

He already felt his penis leaking with arousal, and he feared anymore stokes may make him experience a rather unexpected orgasm.

That next stroke was numbing and he hardly felt the pain as it struck. His member throbbed and the first drops of pre-cum fell to the floor as a mimic of the tears he knew were swelling in his eyes. He could feel his hips involuntarily bucking as if penetrating an imaginary person in front of him.

She did not know it but in his mind he was taking her roughly while her servant paddled him for his insolence. He managed to stay his imaginary thrusting. He knew he could not look over his shoulder at her or she would see his unsuspected moistening eyes. As much as he wanted to see her expression as she punished her disobedient slave, he kept his head facing forward and prepared for the final blows.

"Fourteen"

It was barely more than a whisper.
 
Queen Isolde

Each time the paddle smacked against Vernard's naked rear heightened Isolde's arousal. He was good, he hadn't let out a single whimper yet, and he never held back his count. The fourteenth count, however, was different. So quiet that she almost didn't hear it at first, but she could tell from the way that his body tensed ever so slightly that he was expecting another blow.

She indulged him again.

TWHACK.

After that strike she reached out and gently traced her fingers over his burning red skin, massaging, teasing, preparing it for the next and final strike before she stopped to see if Vernard had learned his lesson yet.
 
Vernard

Her touch was so arousing, he felt his manhood swell and stretch against it's own skin covering, as it hardened at the feel of her fingers on his skin. He wanted to look down with pride at it, it felt harder and thicker than it had ever before. He was not sure if that was the case, but her teasing fingers against his burning skin was a sensation he had never felt before, and it was a sensation he knew he now enjoyed.

He could imagine Isolde on her knees, her lips wrapped around his warmth as he held her head against him, proudly in front of her court, a triumphant smile as their mighty queen serviced her conqueror. He imagined her whimpering cries as his thick spear thrust repeatedly into her, opening her up for the large girth she desired so much. The cries were both filled with desire and a little pain.

It was the same as he felt now. He had not anticipated the pain of the implement he had chosen to be punished with, neither had he anticipated the pleasure he would feel being so helpless to her whims. She had won him over, he was almost her and all he wanted to do know was to kneel before her and pleasure her as she had originally asked.

But he was not ready for that yet, he still desired as much to be punished by her. To truly give in to her, to give her fully the reward of punishing and pleasuring him. He wondered how many other men had defied her, how many times she had administered such pleasures on them and how much she enjoyed it.

He looked back over his shoulder, swallowing hard so he would be able to speak properly.

"After fifteen will you summon Elara to relieve your arousal?"

He looked at her with a little smirk, it was not defiance in as much as it was a pained submission. He knew those words would mean the final blow would be the worst. He knew he had broken her rule of only counting and he wondered what further punishment she would concoct. But he also wanted her to know she was winning him over, so he nodded his head slightly.

"Fifteen my Queen."
 
Queen Isolde

Isolde put all of her strength into that fifteenth stroke. She had a feeling that he purposely mentioned Elara to bait her. So, instead of issuing him with extra corporal punishment she decided to dismiss his foolishness.

"No." Isolde said, sliding the length of her body up against his so that her breasts were pressed against his back, and reaching up and untying his wrists. "If I call for Elara you know you have failed, and you know that you will be sent out to shovel snow on the mountain passes."

When Vernard's hands were free Isolde pulled away from him and climbed back onto her bed.

"Please don't make me call for Elara," Isolde warned, her eyes raking up and down Vernard's fine form and lingering over his hardened manhood. "It would be a shame to waste someone with such a distinguished.... career."
 
Vernard

The fifteenth stroke had hurt more than he had imagined, but still he had not cried out. He had wanted too, not because the pain was unbearable, but because he had hoped it would bring him more punishment.

Instead he had opted to goad her rather, he did not want to give her the satisfaction of hearing him moan in pain. So he had tempted her with words and gritted his teeth against the pain. And the pain had felt wonderful. While he had waited for the throbbing to subside he had felt a desire he thought long forgotten. It was the desire he had felt before the war had started, before his only
means of release had been camp followers.

When Isolde had leant over to untie him, his body had shuddered at the feeling of her naked flesh against him. He now stood before her proudly, smiling at her wandering eyes, his own eyes observing the glisten in her own nether regions. Her punishment aroused her as much as it did him.

He smiled, "what punishment does my Queen think is appropriate now...or does she prefer a service from her servant."

His smile said his would be prepared for anything she could dish out, the look in his eye that he was almost ready to worship her.
 
Queen Isolde

"Elara is not a servant. She had earned her place by my side and she attends to me out of choice, not coercion." Isolde told him, looking at his named form and trying to curb her annoyance at his ignorance.

So, he wanted to continue to be insubordinate. It was almost as if he wanted to be punished. So be it, Isolde thought, getting to her feet and reaching down to grab his balls in her hands, giving them a hard squeeze.

"Lay on the bed." Isolde directed, before letting go and making her way over to her night stand. It seemed that Vernard would take a bit more discipline than her usual bed mates, and she had to pull out the instruments reserved for her more hardy companions.
 
Vernard

He groaned when she squeezed his scrotum. Although it felt good to have her touch him in such an aroused state, her touch was not gentle, and he had to bite back anything more than a groan.
The command in her voice was also arousing and he wanted to obey it, but he also wanted her to know he was hers, there was no more game, he was prepared to give himself fully to her.

He watched her walk towards her dresser, the delicate sway of her hips inviting him to take his pleasure from her. But as much as he wanted to follow her, to bend her over her own treasure chest that held the instruments of his torture. To feel the folds of her loins open up to him as he penetrated her until his desire was sated. To leave her exhausted and revelling in the aftermath of their erotic union, he could not. She was not his to take, she was to be obeyed and his to worship.

"I meant, I was your servant , offering to obey your every wish my Queen."

He fell to his knees, sitting back on his haunches to proudly display his angry red manhood. He had never been in such a state of arousal or needed to have his own desire sated with such fervor. But he was hers to command, hers to obey and hers to pleasure.

"I will obey your every command my Queen, and if you feel I should be punished I will welcome your touch or denial of it."

He bowed his head, eager to serve his new Mistress.
 
Queen Isolde

Isolde was slightly taken aback by his compliance. So, she had been wrong to think that his last comment was another reference to her handmaiden. He had been asking what service he could provide her with. She was almost about to stall her punishment, but when he sat back on his haunches, delicious erection red and ready, she decided that he would probably enjoy it anyway.

Isolde settled down beside him and reached out, taking his erection and balls in hand. She wasn't doing it in any erotic manner, mostly clinical. She slid a heavy silver ring off her bed and flipped a latch that was on it. The hinge opened smoothly and silently and Isolde put the item around the base of his rod and balls. When it was in she made sure that the hinge wouldn't catch his skin, and then shut and latched the ring.

"This ring will make it impossible for you to come." Isolde told him, stroking the cold metal she had placed around his skin. "You will not get relief until I do, and when you want it you will need to bed." She informed him.

Isolde slid onto the bed so that she was seated and level with his head, then she spread her legs in front of his face, slit glistening with the copious moisture of her intense arousal. She slid two fingers down to trace up and down the length of her womanhood, letting out a sharp gasp as she pressed over her throbbing pearl.

"I want you to rub yourself for me, and you are not allowed to stop until I tell you so." Isolde said, her fingers continuing their languid path up and down her slit. "And if I have to tell you what to do to me, I will make sure that ring never comes off." She added, her hips bucking forward suggestively. Isolde then concentrated the pressure of her two finger tips on her engorged love button and begun to pleasure herself in earnest. Even though he was challenging, punishing him had turned her on significantly.
 
Vernard

Vernard looked up at her, he had never felt so vulnerable and so aroused at the same time. Slowly he nodded his head, his eyes never faltering from hers. He was hers to command and her commands must be obeyed. Obeying her aroused him and perhaps she would reward him with the same pleasures his disobedience garnered, if he obeyed. But in the back of his mind he smiled, he mustn't always obey, for that aroused them both.

But this was not the time to push her, perhaps her threat about the ring was an idle one. But still it was not wise to push her too far, her arousal might be too great and result in actions he did not want to experience now. And when he looked at her now, he realised for the first time today that he wanted to submit fully to her. He wasn't sure how to proceed but all he knew was that he needed to satisfy her.

Slowly his eyes desended down her body as his own hand grasped his manhood as she had commanded. The first strokes, were rough an felt uncomfortable, so he reached out with his hand and rubbed it over her slick vaginal lips. When his own hand was sufficiently slick with her moisture he coated his own member with it, before resuming his masturbation in earnest.

"Thank you for allowing me to worship you my queen," he said it softly, reverently, before his head desended into the valley created by her spread legs. His dry eager lips met her moist engorged ones. His kiss was tentative at first, then a bit firmer, before finally becoming eager as he sucked and flicked over her delicate flesh. He could feel her fingers rubbing against the bridgeof his nose as she rubbed her most sensitive core. He knew she would want his own lips and tongue to replace those fingers soon, but first he had to explore, to learn what else pleased her. So he continued to flick, lick, suck and worship her womanhood, before he pressed hard against her and let his tongue penetrate as deep as it could go.
 
Queen Isolde

Isolde's arousal increased when Vernard's hand rubbed over her ready mound and then used her fluids to coat his member. Watching him stroke himself with the aid of her juices was one thing, but when his lips descended on her a moan escaped from her throat.

This time there was no doubt that he would please her if she allowed him to. His mouth and tongue worked at her sensitive body in a way that made her arch her back and close her eyes. Where her spread legs rested against the side of his body she could vaguely feel the shaking of his body as he masturbated. Her own fingers continued to work at her clitoris as the teasing pulses of pleasure rippled through her body. She could feel her orgasm building, layer upon layer of pleasure. Just as she teetered precariously on the precipice of release she stopped, her breasts heaving with her heavy breath.

Her moist fingers threaded through Vernard's hair and she urged his head up further, pulling his tongue away from where it plunged into her depths.

"I want you to use your tongue to hold me on the edge. I want to balance there. If I fall, if I scream out in orgasm, you will be punished. Do you understand?" She told him through sharp breaths.
 
Vernard

He looked up at her, his hand faltering in its attention to his own masturbation. Having been so reluctant before to pleasure her in this way, he was now eager to return to pleasing her with his lips and tongue. The look on her face, the control she had shown in stopping him when she was obviously enjoying it was so arousing. She truly was the mistress of her own desires and he wanted to be the one who served her in that aspect. At this moment all thoughts of honour and glory were gone. His only thoughts were how he could keep this queen on the brink of pleasure. He wasn't sure he would know how. He looked down at her womanhood, her clit swollen and waiting for his attention, her lips slick and sopping from both his saliva and her own juices. The natural breezes in the room cool his own face which was moist from his eagerness to please her.

Slowly he ran his hands along her thighs and hips, a gentle touch as he prepared himself for further worship, his own member forgotten for the moment. He was just about to plunge his head into her awaiting eagerness when I thought crossed his mind. He wasn't sure if it was needed or necessary but he felt a desire to ask.

"My Queen, may I continue to pleasure you?"
 
Queen Isolde

It was gratifying that Vernard was starting to show some caution and deference. She had given him instructions, but she had not told him to continue. He was wise to ask, and Isolde knew that if she wanted to punish him it was going to become increasingly difficult to do so. He was a quick learner as far as pleasing her was concerned.

"You may... but remember, follow the rules or you will be disciplined." She said, voice crooning as her hand pulled his head closer to her awaiting womanhood.
 
Vernard

He let her pull him towards her awaiting pubic mound, there was something erotic about being treated like nothing more than a toy. But as her toy he was to remember that she could put him down any time she desired, and that was what from him currently. She wanted her toy to keep her on the brink of orgasm, and he had no idea how to do that. Vernard was not used to holding back, he was used to caressing and kissing his lovers till they were ready. He might not bury his face in their intimate essence as he was currently doing, but he was experienced with his touch and lighter kisses. Then he would use his stamina to drive their bodies into one, which usually resulted in the woman climaxing before he was spent. Now he was with a woman who did not want that, she wanted to ride the wave, for him to keep her on the brink.

His thoughts had let him down, he had been spending so much time contemplating, he hadn't realised he was already eagerly lapping away at her already heated clitoris. She had already done a fine job driving herself towards her orgasm earlier, accompanied by his own eager attention. Now he could feel the increased pressure of her fingers in his hair, the ragged moans of her breathing and the flutter of her body he could sense.

He knew he should pull back or soon he would be facing punishment. Yet he recalled her words the first time she had invited him between her legs. How she had besmirched his technique, the same technique that he was currently following. Perhaps he could show her he had listened, he had learned, and still retreat before the wave broke over her.

Slowly his tongue flicked out across her clit, tentatively replacing the hungry lapping with what he hoped was more acceptable pleasures. After a build up of the flicking tongue her began to swirl his tongue around it, and suck it into his mouth, as he had so often with a woman's nipple. The response of her body told him he could not keep this up for long, or he would meet failure. But she was his mistress and he had no right to pull away suddenly, she had to give her permission, even if it meant he faced punishment. Slowly he pushed his head back against her hand, asking permission of the woman he now served.
 
Queen Isolde

Vernard tentatively pushed his head back against her hand, taking his incredible mouth a little away from her desperately throbbing womanhood. It seemed as though he was asking permission, wanting to pull away from her.

Isolde's peak was close, she knew that well enough. She also knew that she had ordered him not to allow her to orgasm until she had told him so. Right now he was testing the boundaries, feeling for the limits of her commands. She had given him an order, and now was his chance to show her how he would carry it out.

Instead of giving Vernard any sort of direction she kept on doing what she had been doing at that time. She didn't push his face back against herself, nor did she let go of the pressure. What happened next was his choice; and he would be reward or punished depending on that decision.
 
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