Jonos & the Whore Queen - Chapter 2 - Part 1

Chapter 2 - Part 1

So it came to pass that Jonos, son of King Janish and Queen Celise, usurped the crown, slaying his father and taking his mother, proclaiming her as his Whore Queen of Agosta. Many supported the mighty warrior's claim due to his father's evil ways, but others feeling threatened by the righteous anger of Jonos over the sins of his father and cronies, would ally themselves with Kallas, the brother of the slain king.

Jonos marched the Imperial armies of Agosta to wage war on Kallas, whose wickedness was perhaps even greater than that of his brother. Thrice did Jonos come to the field of battle against Kallas, but treachery was afoot and Kallas always knew his plans. Yet Jonos always drove Kallas from the field, but could not pursue due to the losses borne of vile betrayal. Finally, Kallas withdrew to the great mountain fortress named Bloodgate, upon whose granite walls armies since the beginning of time have destroyed themselves.

Here would the Whore Queen prove her love to her son and King beyond all doubt. And here the final contest between Jonos the Usurper and his uncle would came to pass.

Gather to me and listen for these were the days of true heroes, and this is but one tale of many...

Kallas, self proclaimed King of Agosta sits brooding on his throne, with shadows creeping across the great throne room as the sun slowly sinks behind the jagged spires of the western range of the Iron Shard mountains. His mood darkens as gloom takes the room. The news this day has been troubling at best. Seemingly, all news has been troubling since word had reached him five months ago that his agent's mission to slay his nephew, the usurper Jonos, had failed in thr city of Atria.

Now word had come of Jonos's army approaching, led by Nasser, that upstart officer who began life as the son of goat-herders. Kallas mutters to himself, more guttural growls than actual words as he again seethes with anger that a commoner-born has been sent to arrest him.

"Hah!" Kallas barks. "His army will die upon the walls of the Bloodgate as has every army ever to approach this fortress." The old man actually trembles, his lank, gray hair falling to cover his troubled visage.

A soft voice at his side interrupts his thoughts, "My liege. To whom are you addressing?"

Kallas glances at his wife and consort -- his Queen Nesharina. Her cobalt blue eyes stare back at him, brilliant against her pale, almost pure-white skin and framed by long coal-black hair that betrays her Nedalian heritage. She is like a beautiful corpse, preserved yet animated. Her face is alight with hatred and wickedness, reflecting the blackness deep within her that passes for her soul.

"No one, dearest," he replies. "I grow weary of waiting for that whelp of a nephew to come and confront me so I can end this mockery of his 'kingship.' I want to see his head on a spike upon the walls of Bloodgate."

Nesharina smiles, an expression that would chill the blood of most mortals should they be so unfortunate as to view it. She rises from her throne and steps to her husband. She moves with an almost serpentine grace, her gown is immodest but still covers her, hinting more at her smallish breasts and shapely legs than revealing them.

She comes to lay a hand on his arm. "Be patient, my love. My father will soon be marshalling the legions of Nedal and will come to your aid. Jonos and his ilk will be caught between the anvil of the Bloodgate and the hammer of the Obsidian Legions. Agosta shall be yours, my love." Her nails dig into Kallas's arm as she shivers with excitement at the thought of so much blood soon to flow.

Her arousal stirs the shadows of the darkening throne room, but she pauses to settle them down. "And remember, my love, we will soon have a guest that will drive Jonos to such anguish as the fool never dreamed existed..."

A commotion erupts from beyond the great hall.

Nesharina takes a few steps down the dais, and then turns to her husband. "My King, I believe our guest has arrived."

There is a trumpeting of great horns and guards push open the huge doors -- twenty feet tall and twelve feet wide.

Kallas's chamberlain scurries in and announces, "King Kallas, the giants... the giants have come!" He speaks with uneasy glee in his voice. "My liege, they were successful!"

Kallas smiles evilly at this and then turns to nod to a soldier standing nearby who quickly bows and hurries from the room via a hidden door behind the throne. Kallas sits up straighter in his throne and says shrilly, "Bid them enter and deliver to me my prize!"

Scarcely does he utter the words when pushing through the great doors come five huge men. Their skin is burnished and looks like worn amber, as if they'd spent centuries standing against harsh mountain winds that have bleached the long, stringy and colorless hair hanging past their shoulders. The smallest of them stands almost twelve feet high and the greatest of them is over fifteen feet tall and forced to duck beneath the archway of the great doors. All are dressed in various animal skins stitched together to form crude jerkins, that hang to their knees. On their backs are cruel axes that could cleave a man in two with one strike, and stained with blood to prove that they have done exactly that.

The biggest giant steps forward, dragging a normal-sized human woman with him. She is naked and looks small next to the fifteen foot tall giant. "King Kallas, we have come to claim our bounty!" He shoves the human woman towards the throne. Tthe force of his action causing her to stumble and fall hard to her hands and knees.

King Kallas rises from his throne, eyes ablaze with eagerness as he peers down at the woman.

She is naked and filthy, her dusky skin body caked with a dull white paste and her dark hair tousled and gummy with the same whitish goo. The woman raises her head, and brilliant green eyes blaze with anger. With one defiant whip of her head, she tosses her black hair away from her face and speaks calmly, "Kallas... Jonos would kill you slowly for this."

Kallas claps his hands together like a child given a new toy, and replies, "Ah, Celise! So happy are we to see the widow of our late, murdered brother!"

He gestures and two guards emerge from the shadows. They reach down and pull Queen Celise to her feet. She jerks away from their grasp and takes a step forward, fists clenched and preparing to swing.

Kallas steps back, suddenly uncertain in the fierce heat of the Queen of Agosta's ire. His hands reflexively reach up to pinch the talisman hanging from his necklace. "Your magics will not avail you here, Celise."

Queen Celise's eyes narrow and she recognizes the talisman as similar to one she had encountered just a few months before. She smirks and gazes around the room until she spies Queen Nesharina standing by her husband's throne. "Yes, I recognize your wife's baubles. Poorly made, my dear. But if one doesn't mind the costs, its good to have a hobby of sorts. How many years have you sacrificed, Nesharina? You still look well for your age."

Nesharina's face twists into a snarl, "You would do well to hold your tongue, Whore Queen, lest I have it cut from your mouth. Pray we have mercy on you and merely sell you to a whorehouse after your son is put to the sword."

The giant snorts and interrupts, "Enough! Argue later. King Kallas, we would be paid our bounty and return home. We have been long enough from the heights of the Iron Shards."

Kallas scowls up at the giant and replies, "Mind your tone, Garlchrissh. Remember who commands here."

The giant Garlchrissh shrugs his shoulders. "We have done as you asked and brought you the usurper's woman, alive and unmarked. Give us our gold and we will leave."

Nesharina takes several steps down from the dais and studies Celise closely. She leans in, mindful of Celise's reach and sniffs at the Queen's naked body. She turns and grins up at the giant. "Alive and unmarked, indeed, but perhaps a little used!" Looking back to Celise, she sneers, "Whore Queen indeed."

The giant ignores Nesharina and glares down at Kallas. "We would be paid now, King Kallas!" he says, his brow becoming stormy.

"Yes, yes. Let us be done with it!" He snaps his fingers and then retreats up the dais, motioning his wife to follow.

An armored soldier brings forth a small wooden chest and places it before Garlchrissh.

The giant frowns and kneels down to open the chest. His thick, stubby fingers run through the gold coins within. He stares angrily at Kallas and growls, "This is perhaps a thousand gold! The agreement was five thousand if we brought the Whore Queen alive!"

Shrugging his shoulders, Kallas replies, "Yes, the agreement was for five thousand gold marks. But I have decided to change it. Take it or leave it. But now I grow tired of your presence -- take the coin and be gone."

Garlchrissh takes a step toward the throne. "You break your oath, Kal..." his voice trails away as he hears a hundred men clattering with metal above them. He looks up to see a balcony that runs the entire length of the throne room, filled with men, all aiming crossbows at him and his comrades.

"Yes, Garlchrissh. I changed our arrangement. You may take the gold and go in peace, or accept alternative payment -- twenty iron bolts apiece, tipped with one of the Queen's more inventive poisons." Kallas smiles wryly at the giant, his voice growing harsher as he continues. "Choose your fate now, mountain giant."

Celise turns to study Garlchrissh, his visage a storm of emotions as he struggles between choosing life or honor. Ignoring the guards around her, she steps close to the giant. "Garlchrissh," she says softly. "Take the gold and leave knowing you acted honorably -- to this would-be king, and to me. I bear you no ill will for your role in these affairs and would be happier knowing you roam the Iron Shards, free and alive. Go and find a strong giantess and bear children with her."

Garlchrissh looks down at Queen Celise, a curious look on his face. Celise smiles up at him as her hand strokes his gnarled and muscled thigh. Then her hand slides upward under his jerkin where she begins a slow stroking his abdomen.

The giant's scowl smoothes into a blissful grin and he nods and replies, "As Queen Celise commands." One rough hand reaches down to pick up the chest. Then his free hand strokes Celise's cheek.

As the giant's calloused finger crosses her lips, she smiles and licks the large digit.

Garlchrissh steps back to his comrades who all are glowering at Kallas, who is frowning at Celise's open display of conspiratorial affection. The giant announces, "The Iron Giants will long remember the deeds of Kallas." Then he turns and leads his comrades out.

When the doors close with a resounding bang, Queen Celise turns and regards the couple sitting on the throne. "That was ill-done, Kallas. When any king, even a pretender-to-the-throne betrays his allies, he will not sit long on his throne." Celise straightens with chin held high, and shakes her head in disapproval. "Don't get too comfortable, Kallas. My son and king will soon arrive to claim me, and return what you have stolen from Agosta and from him."

Kallas barks laughter back at her. "Oh, he can have you back, my dear. When he arrives, I will happily hand his Whore Queen over." He pauses and licks his lips in anticipation. "At least, he can have what is left of you when you have finished... ah, experiencing our courtesy."

Queen Celise blinks and her face visibly pales as she recalls her former husband, Janish's eager descriptions of his brother's 'courtesies.'

An evil giggle escapes Nesharina's lips before she hisses, "Remember, my king, you promised that I could spend some time with my dear former sister-in-law before you have your fun." Her slender body shivers as she adds, "I have long dreamed of this moment."

"Absolutely, my dear!" comes Kallas's reply. "I would never deny you your pleasures. But remember I want her alive and able to enjoy what I have prepared for her."

Nesharina wrinkles her nose, "Let us give her a bath first. I don't actually mind her smelling like a rutting whore, but I prefer the rutting to be of my doing." She claps her hands and commands, "Take her to my quarters. Have my ladies bathe the Whore Queen and make her presentable."

There is rustling in the shadows of the room, and from its darkest corners emerge what Celise at first assumes are the Queen's Guards. But as they near, she lets out a gasp as she sees that their pallid color and almost machine-like motion betrays their true nature. Zombies -- undead under the spell of Nesharina. In the state somewhere between life and death, they are garbed in little more than loinclothes. Their skin is not rotting, but shrunken and tight and their existence reeks of wrongness. A restrained malice is evident in their unblinking, black eyes.

They approach and Kallas's guards step back. Queen Nesharina's Zombie Guard take her by the arms, the touch of their flesh on her bare arms is cold and unyielding, making her shiver as they lead her away.

As Celise is guided into the depths of the great, granite fortress, she can hear Nesharina's ill laughter echoing after her -- following as if seeking to taunt her. Queen Celise does not seek to engage the fell creatures in conversation or seek to flee. Instead, she focuses on memorizing the path -- trying to remember every nook and cranny of the ancient bastion of cruel rock.

Queen Celise, mother and wife of King Jonos finds herself sinking gratefully into the hot, soapy water of a huge marble bathtub within Queen Nesharina's quarters. Slave girls slip into the waters with her and began to scrub her weary body and wash her tangled hair. Between her legs, fires are rekindled as the experienced young women caress and comfort her, their faces a mixture of eagerness and fear, anxious to please the beautiful woman. Celise drift with their sweet and gentle touch, almost falling asleep, as her mind relives the last several days...

---

The Queen is being excorted to her father's kingdom, Elyssiuma. The trip takes five nights and six days, and the retinue had set camp on the fourth evening.

Celise wakes at some point in the night, to the sounds of battle -- of men screaming and metal weapons clashing. Clamors of "Awake! To Battle! To Arms!" erupt, along with animalistic howls that cause the tiny hairs on her arms to rise. A terrified horse gives a horrific, frightened neigh as it brushes her tent, making the poles shake and wobble.

Naked, Celise rises to her feet and steps halfway out of the tent, gasping as she beholds the carnage before her. In the light of campfires, the soldiers of her escort do battle with giants -- savage mountain giants who wade amongst the Agostan guards, gleefully spreading mayhem and death as they swing battle axes as long as a man is tall.

A soldier, grown barely to manhood, stumbles up to the tent, horrified to see her. "My Queen, we are betrayed! Flee while you can." He holds a bastard sword in one hand and the other is pressed against a gaping wound in his side.

Celise recognizes him as Quint, the youngest soldeier of the escort. A sweet boy who she had entertained three nights ago -- taking his turn amongst the Whore Queen's Guard in sharing her bed for a session of splendid fucking.

Out of the shadows looms a monstrous figure. A mountain giant, face and body smeared with blood, and with a savage laugh swings at Quint. The soldier deflects the strike, but is sent flying when the giant follows with a savage kick. Quint lands with a breathless thud in the shadows next to the tent. The giant turns and begins to close with Celise.

She stands her ground and raises her arms, tracing arcane sigils in the air before hissing, "Inferium!"

Gouts of bluish flame leap from her fingertips and strike the giant, enveloping him a swath of fire. He screams and staggers off -- hands trying vainly to rake the flames away as they begin to incinerate his flesh.

Queen Celise rushes to Quint's side and kneels. He coughs up blood and gasps, "My Queen...p-please, flee now before it's -- it's too late." He glances at the battle, giants now encircling the surviving soldiers. "They can't hold out much longer!" Tears of pain and frustration run down his face. Though it causes him pain, he reaches out and clutches Celise's arm. "Please, my Queen, flee now!"

Celise follows his gaze to the battle illuminated by the light of the campfires. Of the fifty soldiers in her escort, she guesses maybe half still stand, with more falling each passing moment.

She shakes her head and says, "No -- I will not flee. But the King must be warned!"

She presses a hand against Quint's wound and concentrates, feeling arcane power flow through her fingers as she surrenders a bit of her own life force. Immediately, the young man's wound begins to close and his breathing becomes easier. As a wave of dizziness begins to sweep over her, the Queen leans back on her knees.

After a deep breath, she whispers, "Soldier Quint. You are sworn to my command. I bid you flee and seek out King Jonos and tell him what has befallen."

She pulls the soldier to his feet, pressing her fingers against his protesting lips. "Do this and all may yet turn out well." 

Celise pushes him into the shadows. Without a backward glance, she turns and strides towards the campfires and the raging battle.

Giants and soldiers alike pause in amazement as the naked woman strides into the middle of the carnage. One giant seems to be directing the monstrous creatures, and she approaches him without fear. He licks his lips as he watches her stride forth -- her large and heavy breasts bounce as she walks, and her hair, tousled from sleep gives her the appearance of something beautiful and feral. In the firelight, he sees the glistening of this night's lover's seed on her inner thighs.

Celise stops before him, unafraid and bold. Putting her hands on her naked hips, she speaks in a voice used to giving commands, "Giant, I am Celise DeKarthus, Mother and Queen to King Jonos, Daughter of Pharaoh Khanthus XVII. I offer my surrender if you would spare the lives of my men."

The giant pauses and considers her, a broken tooth smile appears on his chiseled face. "You are ours anyway, Whore Queen. Why should I let them live?"

"I would know what you are called, Giant. So we may treat as equals."

He barks a cruel laugh -- one echoed by the other giants while the Agostan men look on with surprise. One of her guards takes a step towards her, and the mountain giant defiantly raises his sword in protest. "My queen -- no! We would rather die than live with the shame..." His words trail off as the futileness of their situation truly sinks in.

The giant ignores him, knowing the battle is won already, and replies to Queen Celise, "I am Garlchrissh, Jarl of the Iron Giants. Queen Celise, you are my prisoner already. Why should I let these puny ones live?"

"The victory is yours, Garlchrissh. But living slaves sold in the Nedalian markets are worth more than rotting bodies on the battlefield. If you agree, I will go with you peaceably."

The giant nods almost absently. "And if I don't agree?"

Celise lifts her chin and stands defiantly, breasts rising tautly, and her eyes flicker with eldritch power. There is death laced in her voice as she declares, "Then we die, and you return home all the poorer, to face grieving widows and children."

The other giants mutter between each other, wondering how their Jarl will respond to be spoken to in such imperious tones.

Garlchrissh studies Celise in silence for long seconds, with the crackling campfires and the cries of the dying soldiers breaking the silence. Then a broken-toothed grin spreads across his face. He barks a guttural laugh and bows before the Queen. "We have a bargain then, Whore Queen." He turns and instructs the other giants in his ancient, crude language.

Celise exhales and nods to her soldiers, motioning with her hands to drop their weapons. One of her guard steps forward to stand near her. She recognizes him as Lieutenant Fabre, the escort's second-in-command. Intuitively she understands that Captain Billow is dead and Fabre is now the ranking officer.

"My lady..." He falters, but finds courage, "My Queen. We would rather fight to the death than bear this disgrace. Please, let us..."

He stops mid-sentence as Celise reaches out and strokes his weary, blood and smoke-stained face and says, "This is not the time to speak of death. For now we survive. Take care of your men." Her face grows angrier as she leans closer and whispers, "We were betrayed. Stay alive so that you may have vengeance. That time is not far off, I think." She gazes at him with authority.

His eyes widen at her claim, and then he visibly relaxes and nods. Fabre turns to look at his men who are quickly being rounded up and placed into fetters by the mountain giants.

Garlchrissh divides his force, sending all but four of them with the defeated soldiers to march through the pass leading to Nedal and their slave markets. One of the four remaining giants approaches the Queen with rope to bind her.

Garlchrissh snarls, "None of that. She has agreed to be peaceable."

The giant's Jarl approaches Celise, and without comment reaches out to wrap an arm around her waist. With barely a strain, he lifts Celise and flings her over his shoulder. Then he gestures to the other four and begins to run, followed by the others. He ignores the Queen's grunts and complaints of discomfort as she bounces on his shoulder.

---

Long they run as the night passes, the giant's inhuman vision allowing them to run effortlessly through the dark, moonless night.

Celise bears her discomfort without further complaint, enduring the giant's grasp, massive fingers clamped down on her lower back and buttocks to hold her in place. As the first threads of dawn break the eastern sky, she realizes they are moving southward.

As the giants continue to run, Celise manages to shift herself so that Garlchrissh's fingers slip between her thighs, and she wiggles until she can feel one of his fingertips against her slit. Thusly the morning sun finds the Whore Queen quivering with pleasure as pressure from the giant's finger teases and rubs against her pussy. Her labia spread with the friction their movement, opening herself to wet his fingertip and her inner thighs with arousal.

If Garlchrissh takes notice of it, he shows no reaction as the mountain giants continue to run at a steady pace. Their breathing is even and constant as they lope through shrub tree and brush laced plains. After Celise's quiet, orgasmic throes, she glances over her shoulder and confirms their direction, as the Iron Shards grow in front of them. The snow capped peaks appear closer with each passing moment.

Towards midday, they begin turning in a southeasterly direction, still approaching the mountain range. Celise, exhausted from the night's fight and the days repeated near-orgasms, passes into an uneasy sleep. Images of her son, Jonos dominate her subconscious -- a dream of sex and passion and anger as he strides about with a huge erection and constantly teases her, always on the verge of fucking her, but never doing so.

The sun is setting in the west, and the giants have carried themselves into the foothills of the Iron Shards before Garlchrissh calls a halt to their march. They find a hollow and make camp, dumping Celise, naked and sweaty onto an animal skin taken from the Jarl's pack. Garlchrissh sends one of the soldiers out to find food while the others see to making the camp defensible.

Celise eyes Garlchrissh curiously and finally speaks. "I assumed you were making for Bloodgate."

The giant nods, "And so we are."

She gestures around them, "But we have journeyed ever steadily in a southeastern direction, when Bloodgate lies due south."

Garlchrissh snorts and turns to face her, his eyes roaming hungrily over her naked body. He mutters, "There be more than one path into Bloodgate."

Celise recognizes the lust in his eyes and thinks it odd that she is unafraid, given all the horrible stories she has heard since childhood of giantish lust. She feels her nipples harden under the terrible monster's gaze and the sodden fire that has simmered between her thighs all day begins to burn with need.

The giant licks his lips and asks in a husky voice. "You are called the Whore Queen, yes?"

Celise nods and adds softly, "Aye, and it is a name well-earned." She leans back on her elbows and spreads her knees wide, revealing her slickened inner thighs and dark pelt, split by her flowering labia. Pinkish inner flesh glistens in the slowly fading light as she arches her back slightly to display her heavy breasts. "I'm sure you've been tasked to bring me to Kallas unharmed. But..." The queen leaves the rest unsaid, eyeing the bulge in Garlchrissh's jerkin.

The Jarl reaches out with a massive, calloused finger and brushes it against Celise's cheek. Then he drags his finger down her body, making her bountiful breasts jiggle and roll before descending over her stomach and between her legs.

"Ohhhh, yessss!" Celise moans as his thick finger, itself the size of a man's erect cock, rubs her wet, aching flesh.

Garlchrissh grunts with amusement and pushes his fingertip into the Queen's cunt, making her cry out. He pushes further, to the second knuckle, and rotates his finger inside her furnace of hot flesh. With a swift motion, the giant uses his free hand to pull his jerkin off, revealing his thick, powerful and misshapen body.

As he fucks the Queen with one finger, she moans and gazes at the enormous cock between his legs. For the first time, Celise feels fear -- his cock is beyond anything she could have imagined -- nearly three feet in length and as thick as her son's calves -- the cock head itself the size of a cabbage. The bulbous head is purplish and a bead of clear precum emerges from the slit. His shaft is dark red, with veins visibly throbbing and she sees his large scrotum underneath, each testicle the size of a grapefruit. More amazingly, her fear of the giant's monster penis is overwhelmed for her desire to experience it.

Queen Celise mewls with pleasure as he somehow seems to hook his finger inside her and pulls her naked and aroused body toward him. She lays on her back and her dark hair fans out above her head as she is pulled to him. The giant withdraws his probing finger from her clasping cunt and straddles her until he stands over her. Garlchrissh squats, and with his free hand, guides his huge dick so he can rub it over her soft flesh, smearing her heavy breasts iwth precum, and then he moves the spongy cock head over her cheeks and forehead and chin.

"I want your cum!" Celise moans as she reaches up to embrace the giant's member, focusing all her attentions on the enormous cock. She wraps her arms around the shaft, and her lips shower his cock head with hungry kisses and long licks, lapping up his drooling precum. The Queen's hands are busy stroking his velvety stiff rod, savoring every bump and ridge of his veined penis. Her mind reels with the sheer enormity of the cock in her embrace.

Waves of the giant's musk intoxicate the Queen's senses as she kisses his flesh, tasting precum and sweat. She lathes her tongue over and around his cock head, swirling her tongue around the moist head and ending with her mouth kissing the slit. Garlchrissh gives a surprised grunt and pushes his cock against Celise's face.

The Whore Queen senses his impending eruption and opens her lips wide, pressing her mouth firmly against his slit. Even so, Celise is overwhelmed as a torrent of thick, pearly semen erupts into her face -- the volume more than that of two dozen humans, hosing her face and making her gasp for air as the giant ejaculates a second and third time.

Celise swallows mouthful after mouthful of his strong-flavored seed as it splatters over her face, flowing from her chin onto her heaving breasts, and thick streams run over her forehead and her hair. As she sates her appetite with his hot sperm, Celise revels in the sensation of the thick semen covering her face like a soothing lotion. She strokes and kisses the giant's cock head as the flood of cum ceases.

He steps back, withdrawing his wet cock from her grasp. His body quivers as he murmurs, "Whore Queen, indeed!"

Celise laughs like a small child, delighting in the carnal sensation of her face and chest covered in a layer of giant semen. She scoops a handful from her face and lets the thick, viscous goo flow between her fingers into her open mouth, dribbling it over her heaving breasts.

So enraptured is she, that it is long minutes before she realizes the other four giants have returned from their duties and now, like their Jarl, have abandoned their hide jerkins, each sporting a massive erection.

The Queen moans and realizes her evening pleasures have just begun. She holds her arms out wide in invitation and throatily moans, "More... I want more!"

Once Garlchrissh gives a nod of consent, the other four giants are happy to oblige, all stepping forward.

Suddenly Celise is covered with cock flesh -- massive trunks of penis rubbing against her body, stroking her soft and slick skin from her knees to her face. Time quickly fades as she finds herself buffeted about by the four aroused giants. Every inch of her body is stroking or being stroked by the giant cocks. Her hands are stroking and her mouth is constantly kissing and licking hot flesh which only withdraws when one of them begins to cum. By unspoken consent, the others take a step back while one groans with pleasure as he showers the Queen of Agosta with strands of semen. They all watch her avidly as she rubs the hot white cream over herself and licks the thick goo from her hands.

Queen Celise consumes what seems to be a gallon of sperm, gorging herself on the thick, hot seed of the giants. She finds herself bathing in their semen as it flows over her, leaving no part of her naked body uncovered. The whitish sperm puddles and collects on the animal skin where she lies and writhes in the pool of cum until her body is coated in the seed of the giants. Her belly grows full of the strong-tasting giant cum. Each giant gives her two loads of their seed before collapsing back in a general mood of sated good humor.

Last to deposit his semen is the Chieftain Garlchrissh, who rubs his cock over her cum-covered body. Celise guides him between her legs and bucks her pelvis up and down, rubbing her sopping wet cunt over his cock head until she sees him tense up.

Deftly, Queen Celise holds the head of his cock at her entrance, positioning him so his slit is kissed by her wide spread labia. Then she begins to groan in utter pleasure as the giant presses against her open pussy and begins to ejaculate, shooting streams of his cum directly into her. She screams in ecstasy as she feels her womb being filled with semen, the hot spunk filling her completely. The giant's whitish semen bubbles forth from her pussy where his cock head is nestled between her labia. The frothy cum streams down the crack of her ass and adds to the pool of cum on the animal pelt beneath her. She is reminded of the fire-fighting contraptions invented by the old tinker who lives in the deep recesses of the palace in Atria -- the man-powered pumps create powerful geysers of water. Her orgasms flow together until she is almost incoherent, pleasure as well as semen flooding her body.

Afterwards, she lies in the middle of what is more than a puddle of giantish cum. Her belly is full with more semen than she thought was possible to consume. She writhes and rolls in the slowly cooling fluid while the giants tend to cooking dinner. When dinner has been prepared, she declines their offers of the charred meat. She pats her full belly and smiles at them gratefully as she continues to roll in her bed of cold semen.

That night, she falls asleep in the giant chieftain's lap, nestling herself in the wiry-haired groin of Garlchrissh. Her arms wrap around his never completely flaccid cock, and her face presses against the warm flesh of the crown of his penis.

---

For the next two nights, after a day spent winding their way through little known passes of the Iron Shard Mountains, and bathing in a cold creek, the lurid attentions of the giants are repeated. Celise feeds on their semen, her sleep only broken when one yearns for personal attention, that the Whore Queen is happy to give. She marvels at their capacity to offer amounts of sperm she had only imagined in dreams.

For their part, the giants treat her gently, almost courtly outside of their carnal attentions, which she accepts like a well-seasoned slattern in a whorehouse. Each morning, Celise feels their cum crusting and drying on her body, and wherever it flakes away, she feels that her skin had renewed itself, glowing with health. Indeed, the Whore Queen's diet of semen fills her with a sense of health and well being she has not possessed since she was a child in the court of her father.

It was with some sadness that finally, the giants emerge from the jagged peaks of the Iron Shards to gaze at a small valley that backs into a great mountain at the base of which is a great iron gate. The human soldiers guarding the tunnel beyond the gate yield to the fierce glares of Garlchrissh and his company -- pausing only to ogle the large-breasted cum-covered naked human woman carried in the arms of the giant chieftain.

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Celise awakens with a cry as cold hands yank her from the water. The handmaids of Nesharina scatter apart in the huge bath chamber; their naked bodies glistening while their faces show disgust and horror as the Queen's Zombie Guards pull the Queen of Agosta from the bath and lead her naked and dripping from the chamber.

Celise gives no cry of complaint as the zombies drag her along, skinning her knees as she stumbles and regains her footing. They descend deeper into the bowels of Bloodgate and the air grows fetid and warmer. Celise recalls that the Fortress is nestled amongst great hot springs heated by flowing rivers of magma that emerge from the deep -- remnants of the great power that formed these ancient mountains.

Finally, Queen Celise is brought to a dark chamber, humid and reeking of pain and despair. As her eyes adjust to the dim lights of the room, she recognizes it as a torture chamber. Bizarre and evil devices hang from the walls and rest on tables. Blood stains, some still tacky, glisten on the stone floor. She remains silent as the Nesharina's Zombie Guards raise her arms and place manacles over her wrists -- manacles hanging from the ceiling. After the zombies release her, she is almost suspended, with only her toes touching the ground.

Pain quickly begins to build in her shoulders and then down her back as she struggles to keep her footing. The pain descends into her thighs and calves. Celise composes herself as the regal person she is -- beginning a mantra taught to her long ago on how to center herself. In a quiet hiss that barely escapes her lips, she repeats over and over, "Pain and pleasure... The border unsure... I decide on which side to stand."

In the quietness of the room, the only noise is the creak of chains and drips of sweat from her naked body. The Queen of Agosta reaches inside herself, seeking out the pain that wracks her body. She finds it and isolates it, seeking ever to push it towards something sweeter. Her breathing and her heart slow and begin to beat faster as her nipples begin to pulse and warmth begins to emanate from her groin. Her magical training takes the pain, and like an alchemist who has found away to make lead into gold, guides the pain into channels of her mind to create pleasure.

Then with the crack of a whip, all is shattered as a knotted piece of leather rips across her back, scoring her soft skin and draws blood. Celise lets out a single cry and then ashamed, regains control and closes her mouth. Her breath whistles rapidly through her nostrils.

There are slow and deliberate steps behind her and then something solid brushes against her torn back -- something long and hard and leathery. The object makes it way up and down her back, smearing blood from the single wound that it caused. The whip handle, Celise imagines, makes its way over her shoulder and down over one heaving breast, circling and teasing her nipple as its owner steps around in front of her.

Queen Nesharina smiles at her sister-in-law, an evil smile etched on her pale lips. Her long dark hair is pulled back and tied into a long braid that drapes over one shoulder. Her silk and lace gown are gone - replaced by an outfit that makes no pretensions towards modesty. In truth, it reminds Celise of the chaps worn by the cattleman of the eastern regions of Agosta. Nesharina's upper torso is bare, her small breasts stand at attention, nipples rouged red and erect with anticipation. Her outfit of dark leather consists of crotchless leggings. Her pale and hairless, thin lipped labia are revealed, swollen with arousal. Her juices shine on the insides of her thighs.

"Long have I dreamed of having you in my playroom, Celise," Nesharina says breathlessly. "My only regret is that you won't die here..." she pauses and shrugs, "But before you leave me, I will break you." She reaches out with one hand and her long, sharp fingernails pinch one of Celise's nipples, digging her nails into the tender flesh until a drop of blood appears.

The muscles in the Celise's face strain and stretch. Despite the pain, she does not cry out, enduring the attentions of her wicked captor. Only when her flesh is released, and after a long sigh of relief, does Celise speak, "Thank you, Nesharina. Who would have guessed that you were capable of giving pleasure?"

Her response does not please Kallas's wife. She snarls as she backs away from Celise, "I will take away that haughty way of yours, bitch, and show you what pain really is."

The whip lashes out, and the tip slashes across Celise's hip, drawing more blood.

Queen Celise bares the strike without complaint and then slowly shakes her head at her torturer. "That is perhaps your greatest failing, Nesharina -- thinking that there is only pain -- when pain always walks hand-in-hand with pleasure. Like two lovers."

Nesharina's face scowls in anger, twisting her cold beauty. She rushes forward and slaps Celise's face, leaving a handprint and hissing, "You know nothing of pain. But I will teach you, Whore Queen." Then in her fury, she spits into Celise's face.

Spittle runs down Queen Celise's face, but she seems unbothered by it. She uses her tongue to lick it up where she can, as if it was the taste of a lover. "And for the pleasure you'll provide me, I thank you now, Witch of Nedal, for later there shall be no time -- later, I'll simply kill you. She smiles, showing the wife of Kallas, the beauty and courage of a true Queen.

Nesharina stares at Celise for a long moment, almost awed by her lack of fear, but then she too smiles, "Let us put it to the test."

She holds out her hand and one of her Zombie Guard shuffles forward, placing small metallic objects in her palm. Almost coyly she approaches Celise and reaches out with her empty hand to caress the Queen's right breast, squeezing and massaging the heavy tit, her thumb worrying the nipple until it is erect and swollen.

Nesharina leans close and whispers, "Only in my dreams and fantasies," before pressing her lips to the Queen's.

Celise, wary but brave, opens her mouth in response, and lets Nesharina's tongue slither in. The two women kiss for some time as Nesharina fondles the Queen's breasts. Then with spider quickness, she snaps a jagged-teethed clamp around one of Celise's swollen nipples, causing the Queen to cry out from the sudden shock of the painful, biting device.

Nesharina giggles evilly, as she proceeds to attach another metal clamp to Celise's other nipple. She resumes kissing the Queen as she plays with the devices, turning tiny screws that increase the pressure of the clamps grip on Celise's throbbing nipples.

When the Queen of Agosta moans loudly against her probing tongue, Nesharina steps back and whispers, "Too much? But, we've only just begun."

A zombie servant hands the Nedalian another handful of metal. She attaches a chain to the nipple clips, pulled almost taut. Nesharina tests it by tugging on the chain, drawing more loud moans from her foe.

Celise opens her eyes and grinning, replies through gritted teeth. "Lick my cunt, Nedalian and you'll discover you've only aroused me." Defiantly, she throws her shoulders back, drawing her breasts up and pulling the chain tighter and then lets out another groan.

Nesharina's eyes widen, and then she thrusts one hand between Celise's thighs to cup her mound. Her fingers play with the Queen's labia and she feels the molten liquid heat there.

"I'm just beginning," she quips.

Nesharina connects a new chain to the middle of the one suspended between the Queen's breasts and then squats down. She locks another clamp in her hand into the hanging chain. Grinning now, she reaches and palms Queen Celise's pussy, using her fingers to spread wide the Queen's labia. Sliding upward, her fingertips capture Celise's thick clitoris, swollen with arousal. She puts the clamp into place, and is rewarded with a terrible scream from Celise. The vertical chain now taut, tugs on its mate attached to the Queen's nipples.

She stands to gaze happily at Celise, whose body is writhing from the sensations of the clamps on such sensitive spots. The sensations increase and pulse with every twitch of her body as the chains are pulled taut with even the slightest of movements, making the tight clamps tug at her flesh.

Nesharina snarls, "Let us see you cum now, Whore Queen."

Seconds pass as Queen Celise twists and quivers, unable to bring her body under control. Moans and cries escape her lips before she can raise her head and glare at her captor.

Celise gasps, "Too late... I'm afraid... My apologies for the mess," before losing her ability to speak, her voice deteriorating into wordless groans again.

Nesharina is momentarily puzzled and then looks down. She is stunned to see glistening lines of womanly juices running down both of Celise's inner thighs, calves, ankles, and toes, creating a growing puddle between Celise's feet. The Queen's loudest moans are accompanied by a thrust of her hips and a spurt of cunt cream, betraying an almost constant state of orgasm. Nesharina stands stupefied for long minutes, watching Celise in the throes of carnal delight.

Then the pale-skinned Mistress of Bloodgate screams, "NO!" and her whip lashes out, tearing across Celise's breasts. "I will break you, Whore Queen! I WILL BREAK YOU!"

Like an enraged beast, Nesharina stalks around Celise, her rage builds again until she lashes out, striking the soft, unprotected flesh of the Queen, leaving bloody tracks behind.

With each strike, Celise clutches at the chains above and writhes in her bonds, sobbing and crying. Her pussy juices flow and intermingle with the drops of blood on the dungeon floor. She is mostly wordless, with only the occasional, "YES!" or "MORE!" escaping her lips as she shakes in pain-fueled ecstasy.

Eight, nine, ten times, Nesharina flicks her wrist, lashing the whip to cut into Queen Celise's sweaty flesh. Then her rage seems to run out of energy. She stands panting, very angry, and very much aroused. Only the quiet pitter-patter of blood dripping from the queen's torn body breaks the silence of the room. As her temper eases, Nesharina realizes the damage she has done. Haughty and arrogant as Nesharina is, she does not seek to invite the wrath of her husband, Kallas.

Striding to an ancient cabinet, she performs a simple cantrip that bypasses arcane wards she has placed on it. After a moment of consideration, Nesharina quickly removes two small, clay bottles. She quickly returns to the slowly swaying and nearly unconscious Queen. She grabs Celise by her long, black hair, now a sweaty, bloody tangle, and jerks the Queen's head back to force a potion down her throat.

Celise gags on the foul-tasting brew, trying to whip her head away. The Nedalian sorceress maintains a tight grip on the thick mane of hair and pours the remainder down Queen Celise's throat. She clamps her palm over the Queen's mouth till she sees her swallow.

"This will heal the most grievous of your wounds -- those you have and those yet to come. But it will do little to temper the pain. I would not have you die just yet."

Without warning, Nesharina yanks Celise's head back again and pours a second potion down her throat. 

As she covers Celise's mouth with her hand again, she whispers, "I would not deprive you of a single second of your pain. This second tonic will ensure that you do not sleep or lose consciousness over the next twenty-four hours." Nesharina pauses and playfully sucks Celise's earlobe before adding, "If you live that long, Whore Queen."

Nesharina turns away, looking at a table nearby to consider the horrid implements there. Before she can choose one, she hears a soft whispering from her captive. She turns to Celise, trying to hear her words. She cocks an ear next to Celise's cheek. "What are you saying, you little cunt?"

Nesharina cannot make it out at first, but then she suddenly comprehends the words and her expression is one of horror mixed with pure rage.

The fell potions she has given Celise begin to take affect and the Queen of Agosta raises her head and smiles at Nesharina. She chants with both defiance and pleasure in her voice, "Pain and pleasure... The border unsure... I decide on which side to stand."

The Nedalian, unbelieving the sheer temerity of the resilient woman before her, thrusts her palm againt Celise's mound. Her fingers find the Queen's slit wet and pulsing with need, oblivious to the torture and pain she has endured... or perhaps because of it.

"NO!" Nesharina screams, her anger now a raging, livid at being denied. "Pain is Pain! I will show you. Pleasure becomes pain... pleasure always leads to pain. You... you, fucking whore, slattern, slut -- I will make you beg for release. I will teach you how all is pain in the end!"

Nesharina snaps her fingers and two of her zombies step from the shadows. Their pale flesh is shrunken and stretched tight, their hair is tanlged and sparse and the eyes are black and soulless. The zombie's bodies are lean but hardy, no doubt warriors or slaves in life before they became puppets to protect Kallas's wife and obey her every whim. Nesharina snaps her fingers again. The two zombies tear away their loincloths, revealing turgid, erect penises that curve upwards, unnaturally long and thick, aroused by Nesharina's necrotic magic. The skin of their scrotum and shafts is pale and transluscent, revealing black veins leading to swollen black heads.

Celise stares helplessly at the undead servants and their magicked cocks -- both repulsed and suddenly intrigued.

The Nedalian woman notices the Queen's study of the two undead bodyguards and smiles. "Oh yes, my nobles and I often use them for pleasure. Their endurance is everlasting, but can be used for punishment as well. Did your husband... did Janish ever tell you how my mother was executed for betraying my father? She sated her lusts multiple times with her own zombie guards. He repaid her lusts by showing her that a momentary thing like pleasure always becomes pain after too much indulgence. My sisters and brothers and I watched while her undead bodyguards fucked her to death. She lasted perhaps twelve hours. But Father commanded they continue until she was little more than a bled out bag of filthy flesh."

She grins and adds, "Of course, father had them fuck her cunt, ass and mouth. So she likely choked to death. I'll be kinder, since Kallas has his own plans for you." She turns to undead creatures and hisses, "Take her!"

Continued in Chapter 2 - Part 2

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