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No one can suspect she's a weakness of mine. Not even myself. She's nothing but a tool. The property of Nyxar, a commodity to be used.
"What do you say, Vess?" I ask him, as he's seated right next to her bare ass. "Did my lady of pleasure enjoy sucking my cock?"
As instructed, she's not wearing anything under her dress. Old Mir didn't even blink when I said as much. She's served this court for longer than I've been alive, preparing my predecessor's lovers and whores since the days of the old gods.
"Shecertainlylooked and sounded like she did, but I'd have to see to know for sure."Vess leans back in his seat, smirking. "After all, she did say she fakes it."
"Indeed.” I remove my cock from its sheath and reach down to the hem of her dress, pulling it over her waist.She yelps in surprises. I ignore it.
“Show your cunt to Vessorian properly, darling Rhea."
Wide, horrified eyes stare at me. "Spread your legs for him," I spell out. "He needs to check if you're wet."
Her entire face is on fire. "I…I liked it, all right?" she relents.
If I were kinder, I'd let her get away with this humiliation. But tonight isn't about her at all. It is about politics. She’s nothing but a instrument of the realm, just like me. "A deal is a deal. Spread your legs for him, or I will do it for you."
Her eyes water, but she straightens her spine and turns her back on me. I keep the fabric high, and Rhea spreads her toned thighs just a few inches apart, presenting her glistening cunt to my friend.
Vessorian doesn't approve, I can tell, but just like he wouldn't dissent in front of my council, he'd never reveal his objection here in public. Rather than reminding me that he'd much prefer if her corpse was cooling six feet under, he cups her right between her legs and tilts his head. "She's positivelysoaked."
I'd like to think his grin isn't completely for show.
Rhea shuts her legs closed and jerks her dress from my grasp, trying to pull it down, and instead succeeding in ripping the thin fabric."You won," she snaps, as though there was any doubt at all that I would.
"Did I? But all the witnesses haven't yet weighed in." I sweep everything on the table right in front of me aside, shoving plates and dishes.
My goblet of wine falls on the paved floor with a high-pitched sound.
Iunceremoniously scoop her up andlift her up at the edge of the table. "Spread your legs wider apart,darling Rhea."
24
RHEA
I can't believe he's demanded this of me. Caldoryn is more wicked than even I believed.
He couldhave spread my knees apart and pinned me down. He has the strength, and the support. I could do nothing at all even if I wanted to, even if I had the power to. Any defiance of mine would fall back on my friends. I am at his mercy, and he has none. But he's not forcing me. He's not holding me against my will as I wail. He'smaking mepart my thighs.
"Who'd like to check whether my Rhea's wet after sucking me?" he asks out loud.
A roar of laughter and assent answers him. They all wants a piece of me.
Somehow, until this moment, I'd partially blocked out the fact that we were in the presence of hundreds of guests from my mind. I focused on the circle. It's easy enough from the principal table.The guests are so far away, even their conversation's drowned by the distance. My mind must have protected me from the fact that our display wasn't just happening in full view of his circle, but of the rest of the court. His subjects and fellow Alleans, watching one of their own being demeaned.
To my utter horror, Doryn casually sweeps my dress to my chest again, removing the pieces of leather that served to conceal some of my exposed flesh. "It looks like everyone wants to examine you. This research is going to be positively thorough."
I move to jump down, and now the king's hands take my knees, pinning them to the table. He tilts his chin to his advisor. Vessorian doesn't need further prompting: his strong hands take my shoulders and pin me on the table.
“We can hold you down or you can be a good girl and stay. It’s up to you.”
I go slack, forcing myself to remain still, despite my instincts demanding I close my legs, lift my bust, cover myself.
I can't even see whose hands move between my legs. I only hear them laugh and assure Doryn that I am, indeed, wet.
At first, they just brush my sensitive folds before stating their opinion, but some hands linger, prodding my sensitive nub. I close my eyes, willing myself to ignore them all, remaining as indifferent as I can appear to be.
By the time the first stranger shoves two fingers inside me, part of me believes Doryn will stop them. My eyes fly open and stare at the king. He's grinning down at me.
