The Queen and Her Conquest (Closed for LordUsagi)

Her touch was too sensual for him and he groaned loudly as he fought to hold his increasing manhood in check. In the end he gave up and withdrew his hands, allowing the only warm part of his body to snap up against her hands.

"The only warmth I can imagine is our bodies entwined as one, moving in unison towards shared heats passion."

He barely got the words free from his chattering lips.
 
"Good Vernard." Isolde purred after he spoke. His mahood was raging hot and firm against the palm of her hand and his earlier groan made desire pool in her nether regions. "For that insight you will be rewarded."

Isolde's fingers wrapped around Vernard's impressive shaft and she moved her hand up an down slowly. The skin on his manhood was delectably soft and she enjoyed the feel of it against her palm. She continued to stroke for a few more moments before she let him fall from her grasp and took a step back. Isolde began to walk around him slowly, circling him like a predator would stalk its prey. After a few seconds she stopped behind him and without warning brought her leather paddle down across his arse firmly. She knew that his skin would be cold and he would feel the sting more keenly than if he was warm.

"I don't think you fully understand just yet." Queen Isolde said, relishing the way that his pale skin turned red from the contact of her paddle, "But I have faith that you will learn. Tell me Vernard; at this moment how desperately do you need the warmth of another body? What have you done to deserve it?What would you do to deserve it?"

Vernard had done well to get his far. His fortitude impressed Isolde, and she had to acknowledge in her own mind that he was certainly tough and very, very, hardy.
 
Vernard

The feel of her hand upon him was intoxicating. It had been so long since he had felt the touch of flesh upon his manhood, even his own. Since he had come to this forsaken wasteland his whole sexual appetite had all but dissipated.
Until this moment.
Despite the cold, he had never felt so alive, had never desired the touch of another so desperately. And here she was, offering herself up as a carnal sacrifice. It could be nothing else, she stood before him naked and willing, yet he knew it was a trap.

He was expecting her to drop the hammer, but instead she continued to stroke expertly. When she did stop and moved around him, he wondered what her game was. Did she wish him to feel her body against his as she reached around and continued her ministrations.

When he felt the paddle strike he breathed through gritted teeth. He almost cried out but he managed to hold it back. He had been expecting it after all, hers was not a seduction but a torture. But then why did his manhood twitch excitedly as he felt the cold air chilling his flaming cheek.

He barely heard her words, but he wanted to say he would do anything, but instead her remained defiant.

"I will not beg you for pleasure."

A part of him wondered if he had said it only in defiance, or had it also been desire.
 
Queen Isolde

"Beg?"

THWACK.

Isolde's distaste was clear in her voice and the sting of the paddle as she brought it down once again on Vernard's bare backside.

"You are a leader, surely you are a better listener than that." Isolde said, this man's stubborn streak had not yet failed to impress her. "I didn't ask you to beg. I asked you to tell me why you think you deserve warmth. I asked you to tell me what you have done or would do to deserve that which could very well save your life. I want you to tell me why I should bother with you at all. It would be easier to just put you out to the fields to clear the snow but I think you can do more than that. I want to know what you think. I want to know why you think you deserve a station higher than servitude. I do not need you to beg for my pleasure or yours, but I do need you to prove yourself worthy of my time."
 
Vernard

His backside burned in the cold chill. Could that be possible, could the cold wind he felt actually warm him. Despite the coldness of the room he could feel a warmth flowing into him. Was it arousal, was her treatment of him causing him to become more excited than he had ever been. He looked down. His manhood stood prouder and thicker than it had ever before, the tip glistening with the first few drops of his arousal.

Was it a combinations of this beautiful woman's proximity to him and the agonising punishment she was subjecting him to. It was not only the touch of the paddle, for he feared one more strike and he would groan out in pleasure. It was the the touch of her mind, she was offering herself to him. Teasing him with the promise of her body, but surely she would not allow her enemy such release.

It was a trap, so he remained silent hoping his body would not betray him at the paddles next erotic touch.
 
Queen Isolde

"Still and silent?" Isolde tutted, her disapproval clear in her voice, she swatted him on the backside one more time for good measure. "If you wish to remain stubborn that is fine. I don't mind if you get frostbite; makes no difference to me."

Queen Isolde turned on her heel and strode over to her bed purposefully. With her back to Vernard, she slowly climbed onto the tall four poster, her behind put on spectacular display as she did so. She crawled up the bed and then turned, her eyes meeting his.

"You may be too stubborn to warm yourself, but I'm not." She said.

Isolde piled up three of her pillows against the bedhead and then reclined on them. She spread her legs and looked at Vernard over the pale plain of her body and between her bent knees. She smiled as she luxuriously trailed her hands over her collar bones, playing with her cold and sensitive skin, all the while keeping her eyes intently set on Vernard's. She then ventured further, fingers straying over the curves of her breast and then reaching their summit. Her nipples were so hard that, when she tweaked them, she couldn't help but moan in pleasure. She allowed her left hand to continue attending to her aroused peaks as her right slid over her stomach and down between her legs.

Isolde wasn't surprised that she was already very wet. As her fingers delicately traced her hot folds her eyes fluttered closed for a moment. She continued to tease herself, fingers running up and down her slit as her body flushed with the head of her arousal. After a long tease she opened her eyes and looked into Vernard's again.

"I was born to a seamstress and a blacksmith." Isolde explained as her fingers probed deeper, pushing between her lower lips and locating her clit with practised ease,when she found it she moaned and then stilled her fingers. "I was school as all children are in this country. My tutors noticed my aptitude for politics and history and I was brought into the Palace as a scribe. For ten years I climbed my way up the ranks until I was the King's personal scribe. By the time that Kaldon died he had declared that I was to be his heir. He said that I had a natural ability to lead, and that my knowledge and application of politics and history and my concern for the people of this country was unmatched."

Isolde took a moment to direct her finger in small circles around her thumping pleasure nub before stilling her body and continuing.

"Do you know of the Battle of the Barrier Mountains? It was my strategy that won that battle. It was my guidance that oversaw the project that brings hot mineral water from underground springs to the palace. My effort, combined with Kaldon's, was what ended the Sleet Famines fifteen years ago. Since that time my country has not seen famine; despite seeing some of the coldest and longest winters in our history. Despite the fact that your people continue to ravage our land and our people."

Isolde quickly slipped a finger deep into her channel and cried out.

"Those accomplishments and many more earned me the title of Queen despite the fact that my mother did naught but sew dresses for the past ladies of the court. That, Vernard, is why I am privileged to feel the warmth.

Isolde pulled her finger out again and begun to rub it firmly over her throbbing clit. The contact sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her body. Her toes curled and her left hand grasped at her breast. Her body was slowly thawing, slowly coming to life with the heat of a desire which she felt all the way down to her bones. The sight of Vernard before her, still and stubborn, his manhood betraying him with its hardness, spurred her pleasure on further.
 
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Vernard

He let out a moan when the third blow struck, it made his manhood throb with a strange sense of pleasure.

Despite the warm glow his body felt from her and her punishment the cold was starting to get to him. That initial excitement that he had felt was no longer enough warmth for him.

Despite his will power he knew he would give in soon. Would he punished further or rewarded with the warmth of her body. He was not sure which he wanted more. Even when she crawled over her bed his thoughts of violating her in front of her whole court were quickly overshadowed by ones of him kneeling at her throne, eager for her every whim.

He stared mesmerized as she pleasured herself, his own hand aching to grasp himself. He did not care if it brought warmth, all he needed now was the release. But still he feared the trap. How could he fear this woman, she had no hold over him. He could throttle her before her guards even entered the room. By her own words she held no power over him. Yet he feared her.

Then finally he realized why. He feared disappointing her, he feared never knowing her touch, both the harsh and the sweet. The great Vernard, rebellion leader, had been cowered by a woman. He knew if he let her know, perhaps his punishment would be harsher than he could handle and he would beg. She had already defeated him in battle, he could not let her defeat him now.

He listened to her story, all the while imagining that it was his own hands and tongue on her body. That made no sense, he had shown women a gentle touch before, but never to the extent he now felt.

Even her story of her service to the king aroused him. He imagined her perhaps even sharing her tutors and the kings bed. She would have been very young, perhaps too young, but still he never viewed it as a seduction. If it were true, he was she was as much the seducer as the seduced.

"My lady," he finally broke the silence when she finished.
"You ask why I deserve not to be cast out into the cold, I don't. I am your enemy. As you said my people ravaged your lands, slaying and raping your own. I am defeated and I deserve nothing but death."

He closed his eyes as he contemplated his next words carefully.
He was always the leader and as such would always look out for those who had put their faith in him

"But my men do not deserve to suffer my fate. So I humbly beseech you to see to the sick and wounded and then let those who wish to return home go free, even the marked ones. Those who wish to stay and make a life for themselves here are welcome too."

He did not wait for her answer, because he had one last thing to ask her.
"My lady, I can take any pain you throw at me, the paddle, a whip even your teasing body which I suspect hides a venomous bite. But I can no longer take the cold...can I close the doors...if not."

He reached down, despite the embarrassment, the pain (even boldly dismissed ) that he feared would be coming, and wrapped his hand around his shaft. Slowly he began to draw it back and forth, his eyes closed, not willing to see the victory on her face.
 
Queen Isolde

"My lady. You ask why I deserve not to be cast out into the cold, I don't. I am your enemy. As you said my people ravaged your lands, slaying and raping your own. I am defeated and I deserve nothing but death."


Isolde kept her face schooled into that resulting from her pleasure, but inside she was pleased. Vernard was wise enough to know that death would have been an appropriate fate for him. He didn't bother to regale her with tales of past victories, of pursuits that had won him his title. Instead he had acknowledged his part in the sufferings of her people. It took strength of character to make such an admission rather than to beg for mercy.

"But my men do not deserve to suffer my fate. So I humbly beseech you to see to the sick and wounded and then let those who wish to return home go free, even the marked ones. Those who wish to stay and make a life for themselves here are welcome too. My lady, I can take any pain you throw at me, the paddle, a whip even your teasing body which I suspect hides a venomous bite. But I can no longer take the cold...can I close the doors...if not."

Vernard took his straining member in his hand and began to stroke it slowly. The sight made Isolde long to feel him inside her, but she curbed that desire. Not now, not until he truly understood.

"You say your men do not deserve to suffer your fate?" Isolde asked, taking her hand off her womanhood and slipping of the bed fluidly. "What about the fate of the women they raped and murdered in cold blood? What of the helpless commoners that were slain in your plight?" Isolde picked up the whip as she walked past the edge of her bed and towards where he stood, pleasuring himself and giving himself relief.

"Your men, Vernard, will be shown much more mercy than either you or them deserve. They will be allowed to return home when, and if, I decide. Those that are able to adjust to our way of life will be treated as one of us."

Isolde walked so that she was standing behind Vernard She watched as his arm moved back and forward, jerking at his member, and with a flick of her wrist the whip unwound with a low hiss.

"I don't remember saying you relieve yourself." Isolde said coldly before the whip came down across Vernard's exposed back. "And the doors will remain open for so long as I deem appropriate." Another stroke of the whip across his back and she then walked around to face him.

"You show concern for your men above yourself, and that is admirable. However, the fact that you will touch yourself before offering to warm your warden is completely and utterly inappropriate." Isolde walked forward and gripped Vernard's manhood tightly, squeezing it hard. "If a single person's body warmth was all it took to stave off frostbite and death then you would survive. However, the true ability to survive the wild depends on the coexistence of two bodies. Two people sharing their heat, together, each giving the same as they receive."

Isolde let go of his manhood and then walked back over to her bed, climbing on and kneeling on the soft covers, her bottom resting on her feet. She looked up at him with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised expectantly.
 
Vernard

He had to fight to hols back a cry when she whipped him. He had been expecting it, yet the shock was beyond what he had imagined. He knew she had held back, but there was nothing sensual about it. His cold back stung with a numbing pain.

When sh grabbed his manhood he groaned, and that became a moan as she tightened her hold. Her grip was strong and it was painful, but still he felt saddened when she released him.

When she looked at him he knew he was meant to respond, so he walked towards her. His backside stung with each step, his back burned and yet his erection felt larger and more eager than before she had punished him.

He was unsure what to say, even unsure if he longed for punishment or pleasure. The line between them was fast fading. Did she want bold action or him to ask permission. He decided that she would punish or reward him whichever she desired anyway.

So he reached out and touched her shoulder. A tentative touch at first before he flattened his hand against her skin, seeking to warm her.
 
Queen Isolde

When Vernard reached out and tentatively placed his palm on her shoulder Isolde grinned at him. Finally he had broken through his stubbornness. His hand was cold against her significantly warmer skin, but she didn't mind. She didn't become ruler of this country by being uncomfortable with cold.

Isolde reached up and placed her hand over Vernard's, then brought them both down to her left breast. When his palm ran over her hard nipple she couldn't stop a sharp intake of breath. She looked up at him.

"Once I am warm we will see to getting you warm also." She said.
 
Vernard

He was unsure of what she meant.

Would they not become warm together

He squeezed her breast, not to firmly, but enough for her to know. He suspected she would like that. He needed to get her excited enough for when they made love.

His fingers played on the soft skin of her breast before he pinched the nipple softly. He expected she would like it, surely it would warm her body quicker. Get her to a point where he could take her.

He felt his own lust rising. He wondered if it was brought on by the pain she had caused him. Wondered if it was a desire for him to make her suffer a bit when he took her.

He pushed her towards the bed, his body looming over her as his mouth went to her other breast.
 
Queen Isolde

The squeeze of her breast was exceeding average, but the nipple pinch that followed was more to Isolde's liking. She just had time to consider that Vernard might be a little more skilled than she had initially thought when he pushed her back towards the bed and took her breast in his mouth.

"Very good." Isolde murmured, feeling his hot tongue on her cold sensitive flesh. Her hand groped blindly around the bed cover and she felt the long handle of one of her instruments. She picked up up and held it behind Vernard's head to get a better look at it. Perfect. Another flogger with hundreds of soft leather tails; but these ones were slightly shorter than those from before. It would help her get enough leverage behind the strikes to have an effect, despite being so close to him.

Isolde trailed the tails of the flogger over Vernard's exposed back and enjoyed the way that his mouth attended to her aching breasts.
 
He could feel the tails (though he did not know what it was) trails down his back, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He could feel his manhood pulsing, wondering if it was in anticipation of the pain or gentle touch he now felt.

He continued to roll his tongue around her nipple. He needed release and hoped that by attending to her breasts she would invite him to enter the gates of her temple.
 
Queen Isolde

Even though Vernard's mouth and tongue were pleasurable, she soon grew tired of his constant unvaried attention. Without warning Isolde lifted the flogger and then brought it down against his back.

"Show me some of the initiative that made you into a great leader." She ordered, looking down at him and running the tails again over his newly flogged back. "In this society you have to be good at loving and leading if you are to get anywhere."
 
The bite of the flogger made him suck in her breast in surprise. He released it and after giving it a
slight nip looked at her.

"Yes my queen."

He knew that in his anticipation for release he had been too excited and not payed attention to her. He lowered his head to her other breast this time and varied between circling her breast and flicking his tongue across it.
 
Queen Isolde

"Mmm...." Isolde moaned as Vernard paid a little more attention to the cues of her body. With her flogger in hand she placed her palms against Vernard's back and ran them up and down his skin slowly, a warming reward for providing an acceptable amount of pleasure.

Queen Isolde's womanhood was now flushing with a wet heat that made her desire more than just breast stimulation. She placed her hands firmly on top of Vernard's head and pushed it down, hoping he would be wily enough to understand her gesture.
 
He looked up at her, a little shocked.

He shook his head. A part of him wanted to comply but is was not a common thing for him. She was not his lover, she was not cleanly shaved.

"No Isolde I will not."
 
Queen Isolde

Isolde's flogger spoke for her. She rained four hard lashes across his back before she slipped out from underneath him and walked to the foot of her bed. She bent over and felt the inside of the bottom left foot, her fingers felt a soft rope and she grabbed it before standing up. Quickly, and with a practice finesse that showed how experiened she was at this kind of thing, she tied the end of the rope that wasn't tethered to her bed to Vernard's ankle. She walked over to the other side of the bed and did the same with his other foot. She stood at the middle of the foot of the bed and looked at the scrumptious view before her, Vernard lying flat on his stomach, his arse there ready for punishment.

Thwack, thwack, thwack.

Three more strikes for his insolence.

"Get on your knees." Isolde ordered, her voice filled with warning.
 
Vernard

He did everything he could to avoid crying out to the lashes on his back. Luckily she wasn't able to get enough purchase but still with the cold they stung. Vernard was tough but few men would be able to take such a punishment without showing any sign of discomfort. Luckily he had been expecting something so managed to keep his showing to nothing more than a grunt with each stroke.

The three on his behind were something else. She had been standing then and they had struck down hard. Hard enough to make a man yelp, but he would not give in to her. He was determined to show her he would not give in to her demands.

But strangely those three strokes had created something else in him...arousal. He could feel the tip of his aching manhood leaking the first signs of pre-cum. He had been aroused the whole time, since he had entered the bath with her, that arousal had heightened just now when he was attending to her breasts. Now her punishment had intensified it and he needed release.

Slowly he rose to his knees on her bed. perhaps if he obeyed her commands she would allow him some release. He sat upright with just his knees on the bed and looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes rising from the juncture between her legs to her breasts to the beautiful face.
 
Queen Isolde

Isolde was pleased when she saw Vernard get to his knees and look at her over his shoulder. His eyes lingered for a little longer than necessary on her womanhood and breasts before meeting her eyes. She could tell from his smouldering gaze that anger wasn't the only emotion he was feeling right now, she was certain that there was a large amount of lust in there as well.

Keeping a tight hold on her whip, Isolde walked around and climbed back onto the bed in front of Vernard. She stayed on her knees and put herself inches away from him. Her spare hand reached down and begun to stroke his rigid member slowly, gently.

"If you want this," Isolde murmured, placing a soft kiss on the skin just in front of his ear. "You must do what I say. You must submit to me."

Suddenly, she let go of him. She then resumed the position she was in before he denied her and looked at him expectantly.

"I am a patient woman, Vernard, but you are starting to wear that virtue thin. Prove to me that you are worth more than a slave. Show me that you can make sacrifices to your dignity to preserve your honour."
 
Vernard

He was conflicted, on the one hand h wanted to deny this woman, to let her know he was not going to submit so easily to her whims. He knew that would bring punishment, and the punishment brought both excitement and trepidation. Isolde was a sensual and beautiful woman, one who he was only beginning to understand. He could not understand why, but the thought of being her willing bed companion, subject to her whims became more and more appealing. Perhaps she would reward him for obeying, heavens knew he needed release. Perhaps she would punish him for his inexperience in these matters, and that brought its own feelings of excitement.

His mind made up he looked at her.

"Yes my Queen."

The great warrior Vernard was about to give in. He wasn't sure whether to be repulsed or excited.
Bowing his head he lowered it to between her thighs. He was unskilled in this and he hoed she would guide him, or perhaps even punish him. He could feel his manhood twitch with excitement. Slowly his tongue snaked out and touched her vaginal lips. They were moist and he could smell the first hints of desire, that excited him further as he tentatively explored her womanhood.
 
Queen Isolde

Vernard finally complied with her demands and Isolde shivered as his tongue explored her lower lips tentatively. It wasn't the skill that had made her shiver, but the mere touch of his tongue on her sensitive skin. He said that he had pleased many women in his time, but he had clearly not used this method on them.

"Vernard, it is clear that you are inexperienced at this." Isolde said, her voice firm but not vindictive. "I am going to give you directions and I expect you to follow them. If you listen you will be rewarded in many ways. If you refuse?" Isolde ran the tails of her flogger over Vernard's upper back suggestively.

"Now," Isolde's free hand buried itself in his hair. "I want you to flick your tongue, I am not some gravy that needs to be lapped up. And don't forget about your hands- use everything you have. Touch, caress, whatever, but put all of your effort into this."
 
vernard

He looked up at her, using only his eyes. A part of him wanted to please her, to earn the rewards she promised. But still he wanted to be defiant, to let her know he would not give in to her demand, that he was a free man who did not seek to please her whims.

The feel of the flogger upon his back was almost as arousing as the proximity to her sexual core. He could feel all his senses engaged, the expectant look in her eyes. Was it the look of expected defiance or submissiveness. He was sure that any man and most women in her kingdom would gladly pleasure her, but none would defy her. Did she enjoy the administration of pain as much as pleasure, did she want more defiance from him.

He could hear her expectant breathing, the anticipation in every slow breath. He even believed he could her her heart beating, flushed with desire, pulsing through her body. But above that he could hear her steady instructions, telling him how to please her, ordering him as if he was a pawn on a board to be toyed with.

He could smell her hinted desire, almost drowned out by the soft scents of the bath salts that had recently soaked her body.

He looked down again, to the beautiful womanhood in front of his eyes. He wanted to touch it, to bring out desire for him to taste, touch, smell and hear. To see her body quiver before him as she became more aroused.

But he also wanted to feel her wrath, to see how far he could push her. He had been conquered in battle and he deserved to be punished for his failure. But for the first time in his life Vernard was afraid. Afraid to ask her for both the pleasure of punishment and the relief of submitting to her will.

Slowly he lowered his head, stretching out his tongue to touch her. She wanted him to flick with his tongue, so he would lap. Flattening his tongue against her lips he drew it up in a hard long motion, from the base of her flower to the budding top. He repeated this again and again until desire overtook him and he flicked his tongue over the sprouting core.

Then he stopped and forcing his head up against her hand looked at her.

"No I am not your slave to be ordered around."

He waited expectantly for what was to come, knowing that he would be worshiping her like a true
Queen and Goddess of desire both before the night was done.
 
Queen Isolde

As soon as she heard the word no escaped into the cool air her flogger sung through the air and landed against Vernard's bare back.

"Get up." Isolde ordered, her voice more frigid than the howling mountain wind. Isolde closed her legs and slid off the bed. She pointed at the open doors. "Go and stand out there. Until you are willing to acknowledge your lack of skills in pleasuring a woman, and keeping yourself free from hard, you will not be allowed back inside the room."

Without waiting to see if Vernard would comply, Isolde picked up a thick metal rod off the end of her bed and then laid back down. She put some cushions behind her back so that she was slightly raised, and she bent her knees and spread her legs. She gave Vernard a disparaging look as she ran the rounded tip of the metal rod against her wet fold. The metal was cold to the touch and it made her shiver in delight and anticipation.

Looking into her enemy's deep brown eyes Isolde teased herself with the rod. She used it to massage her eager clitoris as she gave him a look that told him just what he would be allowed to do if he swallowed his pride. Every now and again she dipped the tip of the instrument down further to press against her entrance, before pulling it back up and continuing to pleasure herself. The metal warmed quickly using the heat of her body, and her heavy breaths turned into soft moans.
 
vernard

"No please my Queen...I cannot bare the cold anymore."

It was the first time he protested against her punishment. He knew she was right, his stubbornness would see him suffer to his own death in the bitterly freezing mountain winds.

"I will take any other punishment for my disobedience."
 
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