Witch Queen
Grey Bondage
The siege of Beston had been going on for a week the enormous army surrounding the city in a ring of steel and leather that cut the capital of Grent off from the rest of the country. So far there had been no attack Elianna Holzberg, ruler of High Elstrand, and now most of the land of the country that been Grent, had been content for her forces to simply sit and wait, to allow the majority of her army to rest and recuperate after its lighting dash across the plains of Grent. Her generals had asked her why she did not attack. “Let the defenders think the same thing, let them sit and look and fear, always on their guard, always on edge. Let fear slowly consume them and exhaustion overcome them as they maintain a constant guard while we refresh ourselves,” she had answered.
The Witch-Queens tented pavilions had been erected close to the front line but far enough away from the walls of Beston to be out of the range of bows and ballista’s. Earlier that day a meeting had been held for the army’s senior officers, tomorrow the attack would begin but tonight, possibly the last night of their lives for some of those in the tented pavilion, there was feasting, laughter and song as the assembled officers enjoyed the evening.
Prime could see none of it, the slave’s leather-masked face was buried between its owners thighs, its mouth attached to its Mistress’s pussy as it avidly and hungrily sucked and licked, its double pierced tongue working hard as it strived to please its beloved owner. The slave’s hands were unavailable to it; leather straps around its wrists, forearms and just above its elbows held prime’s arms and leather-gloved hands securely behind its back. Apart from the red leather mask, short red leather gloves, red stiletto-heeled ankle boots and ruby encrusted collar, prime was naked as it knelt and serviced its Mistress’s cunt.
The Witch-Queen was lightly dressed in soft, loosely fitting, blood red suede pants and a matching suede top as well as high-heeled ankle boots that boosted her height to well over six-feet. The laces that held the crotch of the suede pants closed had been undone to allow prime access to the Witch-Queens pussy as the ruler of High Elstrand sat back in her large and thickly cushioned chair, Elianna’s throne when she travelled with her army.
Elianna sighed with pleasure as her slave licked and sucked expertly at her pussy, its pierced tongue flicking over the Witch-Queens clitoris before diving deep into her vagina Elianna shuddered then gasped as her third orgasm of the evening erupted through her body, her soaking wet pussy alive with sensations as she came around prime’s highly talented tongue. Breathing deeply Elianna gently pushed prime’s head away from her juice soaked cunt, prime sat back on its heels, its masked face looking at the floor as, with slightly shaking hands, Elianna fastened the laces of her suede pants.
Prime licked its lips, savouring the taste of its Mistress’s cunt on its lips as it knelt, silently waiting for a command, prime shuddered with pleasure as it felt a hand stroked its head.
“Well done pet,” said prime’s owner.
Prime felt a surge of pleasure at its owner compliment, a tug on the leash attached to its collar made it look up.
“Heel,” said the Witch-Queen.
Prime shuffled forward on its knees settling itself to the left of its owner’s chair. The Witch-Queen took a piece of fruit from a bowl sitting on a small table to her right and held it in front of prime’s lips; silently delicately and carefully prime took the proffered piece of fruit between its lips making sure its teeth came nowhere near its Mistress’s fingers. The slave chewed the fruit contentedly then swallowed; a second piece followed.
“My dear Elianna, have I ever told you how much I envy you owning prime?” asked Candida Renville.
Elianna laughed as she continued to feed her pet, “Let me think,” she said pretending to consider the question, “Well it’s certainly the first time today, but perhaps it should be me envying you, after all you have three excellent slaves and I hear you want three more, a redhead and two brunettes to complete the set. Or are you going to have two with black hair as well?”
The obese Arch-Abbess looked down at her feet and grinned curled around her boots, their leashes tied to the arm of her chair, were three sex-slaves. Dressed identically in tight black leather suits and ballet heeled ankle boots, the only part of the slaves left uncovered was their eyes and their tightly braided hair exiting through a hole in the top of the leather hoods that enclosed their heads and virtually all of their faces. With their mouths covered in strictly fitting black leather it was only through small holes pierced in the black leather of the hood over their nostrils that the three slaves could breath. The tightly braided hair of two of the slaves was blond and one was auburn.
“Yes bitch, whore and slut are delicious,” said Candida as at the mention of their names the three sex-slaves looked up silently at their owner, their eyes filled with love and absolute devotion as they looked up at their Mistress. “But prime is something special,” said Candida. “Perhaps one day I’ll find something like it,” then she laughed, “And yes the rumours you’ve heard are true, I am on the hunt for at least three more slaves, a redhead, a blond and a brunette, of course they’ll have to be as exceptional as these three. As for black hair, I hadn’t thought about it but why not.”
“Once Beston falls you’ll be able to take your pick from hundreds of woman, so you may well find what you’re looking for,” said Elianna as she fed prime the last piece of fruit from the bowl and held her sticky fingers in front of prime’s lips. Without needing to be told prime licked its Mistress’s fingers clean of the sticky juices from the fruit.
Ten days ago Candida had owned only two sex-slaves but as the army approached Beston a coaching inn had been overrun, the male occupants of the inn comprising the landlord, the stableman and two guests who had been fleeing the city, had been put to the sword. The fate of the female occupants the landlords wife and daughter, three barmaids and maids and the wives of the two male guests had suffered the fate of all women captured by the Witch-Queens army, they had all been enslaved. The landlord’s wife and two of the barmaids were considered attractive enough to be turned into slave-whores in the Witch-Queens brothel while the two female guests and the third barmaid all became the personal sex-slaves of officers in the Witch-Queens army.
It was the landlord’s daughter that had attracted the Arch-Abbess’s attention, like her first two sex-slaves the twenty-year old, whose name was Alia, was tall with large breasts and a narrow waist, she was also extremely beautiful. Candida had immediately claimed the young woman as her own and an hour after she had first been seen by the Arch-Abbess the landlord’s daughter was dressed in a black leather slave skin. Hooded, booted and gloved in black leather with the Arch-Abbesses studded collar around its neck the sex-slave that had been Alia was now simply called slut.
As its Mistress and the Arch-Abbess began to discuss the impending attack on the city, prime took the opportunity to look around the large, tented pavilion lit by torches that magically gave off light but no heat or smoke. The circular pavilion had a space in the centre where food was being served by household slaves in shapeless brown leather knee length smocks and flat sandals, the plain brown leather collars around their necks embossed with the crest of the Holzberg family. Dozens of large comfortable leather and silk cushions were scattered around the edge of the pavilion on which reclined the Witch-Queens senior officers.
The fifty or so Generals and Colonels reclined on the cushions as relaxed in their dress as their Queen, their laughter and talk almost overwhelming the sound of the five slave-musicians as they played their instruments from an area close to the pavilion entrance. Most of the women around the room were not alone, most had sex-slaves with them while a few were with their lovers, a small number had neither. A disturbance caught prime’s attention, in a clear space an expensively dressed woman in what prime thought was her late thirties was screaming and begging as a body was dragged from the pavilion.
General Leandra Benina had her arm around the woman’s waist as she dropped a knife to the floor; the woman was trying to break free from the General’s grip as she looked at the body being dragged from the pavilion. “My husband… my husband, Lars, Lars,” sobbed the woman as Leandra Benina held out her hand. From somewhere that prime couldn’t see the Blood Guard General was passed a black leather bottle.
“He had his chance my pet,” said the General as she held on tightly to the woman’s waist, “If he had killed me the promise I made would have been kept, both you and he would have been allowed to leave for the border. Unfortunately for you he lost.”
The General waited as the woman struggled desperately in her grip then she saw her opportunity, as the woman opened her mouth to scream once more General Benina lifted the leather bottle and began to pour its thick black contents into the woman’s mouth. The woman coughed and spluttered as the viscous black fluid filled her mouth and flowed down her throat. Drops of the fluid sprayed from her mouth and nose and onto her clothing as the contents of the bottle was poured into her mouth, the reaction to what she was being forced to drink was rapid. The woman’s struggles rapidly subsided as the calming juice took hold of her mind and body; her arms fell loosely to her side and her resistance ceased.
Prime watched as General Benina released her grip on the woman and walked in front of her, the General grinned as she pulled a dagger from the sheath buckled around her thigh and began to cut the woman’s clothes from her body. Within minutes the woman was naked.
Prime’s Mistress was also watching, “I see Leandra has found a slut to replace the one she lost to you in that bet,” said the Witch-Queen as Leandra Benina began to pierce the heavily drugged woman with the body jewellery of an Elstrandian sex-slave.
“Well she did make the mistake of betting with someone who is on first name terms with the Goddess,” said Candida, “An unfair advantage on my part I suppose, but then again whore has certainly been worth it, it’s become an excellent pain-slut in quite a short time,” said Candida as she looked down at the blond slave lying at her feet.
“Well I don’t think she’ll make the same mistake with this one,” said Elianna as she almost absently stroked prime’s head, prime sighed with pleasure and clenched its anus around the large butt-plug that filled and stretched its rectum.
“No,” said Candida as she watched Leandra Benina unroll a red leather slave-skin, to yells of approval she began to dress the drugged woman in the leather suit, “I don’t think she will.”
Prime watched as, with its Mistress and the Arch-Abbess joining in the calls and shouts, the un-named woman was dressed in the red-leather skin-tight slave skin, red platform soled thigh-length boots with seven-inch heels, shoulder length red leather gloves and an incredibly tight red-leather hood that left only the woman’s eyes and mouth uncovered, finally a wide red leather collar was buckled around the woman’s neck. From head to toe the helpless woman was now encased in the tight red leather of an Elstrandian sex-slave.
Cheers rang and shouts of encouragement rang out as the General buckled a large black strap on dildo around her waist, the dildo was covered in what looked like pulsing green and purple veins. Stepping forward the General took hold of the woman’s waist and positioned the dildo against the opening of her pussy; with cheers from all those watching General Benina slid the dildo into the woman’s pussy and began to fuck her.
Prime watched with interest, although it had no memory of such an event or ever being anything other than its Mistress’s property it knew that it had gone through an identical process when it was enslaved. Not that prime cared, it could not imagine anything more wonderful than being the property of its beloved Mistress; prime loved its Mistress with every ounce of its being and would happily die if it was its Mistresses wish.
The woman began whimpering and moaning incoherently as she was fucked; finally, shuddering and grunting with pleasure, her eyes locked to those of General Benina, she came. The General slid the dildo, now unmarked by any green and purple veins, from the woman’s sopping wet cunt and unbuckled the harness before passing it to one of her junior officers. For a moment the General looked at the leather covered woman then with a smile she fastened a red leather leash to the ring on the front of the leather collar, with appreciative applause ringing around her General Benina turned towards her seat amongst her fellow officers, at the end of its leash the new sex-slave followed obediently after its owner.
“So tell me Candida, how are you and Sylvia getting on, is it true what they say about having a young lover, that it invigorates one?” asked Elianna with a smirk.
Candida smirked as well, “It’s very true, especially when they’re as enthusiastic and perverted as Sylvia has become, she really has learned to enjoy the pleasures associated with being the lover of a big beautiful pervert like me. Being fucked by her is almost as good as being fucked by my sex-slaves, which brings me to another point. I never did thank you for not insisting that she should be enslaved, I’ve become rather fond of Sylvia and of course she is living proof that my new magic works. Thank you Elianna.”
“You are most welcome, I’m sure one day you’ll be able to prove to me that your research has benefit.”
Prime’s attention was taken by a young officer in the red leather armour of a Blood-Guard approaching Prime’s Mistress, the officer bowed deferentially and then raised her hand in salute, “What is it Lieutenant Khallis?” asked the Witch-Queen. Elianna prided herself in knowing the name of every officer in the five-thousand strong regiment that was her very own.
“May I approach Majesty,” asked Lieutenant Khallis as she stood rigidly at attention, her helmet held under her left arm.
“You may,” said the Witch-Queen, the young officer stepped forward then leant down close to her Queen’s ear; quietly but with obvious urgency she began to whisper her message. Finished, Lieutenant Khallis straightened up and stepped back from the Witch-Queen, prime looked at its Mistress, there was a grin on Elianna Holzberg’s face.
“Bring her in,” she ordered, the young Lieutenant, the officer bowed and quickly left, the Witch-Queen looked at her friend the Arch-Abbess, “Well, it would seem that we are in for an interesting diversion,” she said, “We appear to have a guest that I’m sure you’ll remember.”
The flap that covered the opening to the tented pavilion opened and three of the Blood-Guard, led by the young officer, entered. The three blood-guard marched to the Witch-Queen’s throne and stopped, standing at attention before their ruler, “Well, well,” said Elianna, “What a surprise it is to see you again.”
Standing between two of the Blood-Guard, her arms bound behind her back by leather cords, was a thin woman in her early sixties. Her grey hair was dishevelled, her grey robes dirty and torn, her face smudged with dirt as she looked in fear at the Witch-Queen.
“You know who I am, you know you have no right to hold me like this, I am on a diplomatic mission, you must release me and allow me to continue,” said the woman.
“My dear Ambassador Tellis, you are, I am afraid, mistaken,” said the Witch-Queen, “Tell me, where were you going when my troops captured you and your recently deceased secretary?”
The Ambassador winced at the mention of her male secretary, killed by the Blood-Guard, “I was trying to enter the city, the Council of the Five Lands had instructed me to try and help the rulers of Grent reach a peace with you, to try and stop the fall of the city and the death’s that would follow. You must release me Your Majesty, you know that my mission is protected by the Edict of Varesh.”
The Witch-Queen nodded, “You are right, if you were in Grent then the Edict of Varesh would indeed apply, however you are now in my lands, what I conquer I own Ambassador. I never signed the Edict of Varesh Ambassador, and what you have also forgotten, or chosen to ignore is something we talked about last time we met; The Second Act of The Doctrine of Elstrand. Do you remember that Doctrine Ambassador Tellis?”
“Yes,” said the Ambassador in a nervous voice.
“Good, you have entered my country without my permission Ambassador and under my laws, not those of the Council, you are mine to do with as I wish.”
“No, I am the voice of the Council of Five, I speak with their authority, you cannot treat me like this, I demand you release me because I won’t help you,” said the Ambassador desperately as Elianna got to her feet and walked towards her.
Elianna grinned, “Oh I think your wrong there,” she said as she looked at the Ambassador’s torn and dirty clothes, “I can do what I like and in the end you will do exactly what I want you to,” said the Witch-Queen as her eyes turned completely black.
The council chamber was silent apart from the sound of footsteps clicking on the wooden floor. A semicircle of twenty-one chairs, all of equal construction and size, filled the end of the chamber, heavily armed and armoured troops lined each side of the chamber. The eyes of everyone in the Council Chamber were fixed on the two figures walking down the centre of the large, arched space; the pair stopped at the centre of the semi-circle of chairs.
There was silence for many seconds as the Council of Grent took in the sight that stood before them. To the members of the Council it was obvious that both figures were female but not the sort of woman ever seen in the city of Beston.
One of the women was dressed in a form fitting red leather suit with matching elbow length gloves and knee high stiletto boots. The woman-in-reds head and face were encased in a red leather hood that left only her blue eyes and her braided blonde hair, coming from a small hole in the top of the hood, free of the all encasing red leather. Following the woman in red leather was one in grey, the second woman also wore a form fitting leather suit, although not as skin tight as the one wore by the woman in red, the knee high grey boots were also lower with three-inch wedge heels but the grey leather gloves still reached the woman’s elbows, there the similarity ended. The arms of the woman in grey leather were bound tightly behind her back in a stringently tightened arm-binder. Around the woman’s neck, reaching up from her collarbones to cup her chin was a rigid, grey-leather posture collar that prevented the woman from moving her head.
The grey leather hood that encased the woman’s head had only one hole in it that left her mouth uncovered; the grey leather effectively robbing her of her sight as it enclosed her eyes and every other part of her head and face. Embossed in the grey leather that encased the woman’s forehead was the coat of arms of Elianna Holzberg while from a ring on the front of the stiff and tightly buckled posture collar a silver chain led to a cuff buckled around the left wrist of the woman in red-leather. Blinded by the grey-leather hood it was obvious that the woman in red-leather was the woman in grey’s guide.
The women of the Council had looks of horror on their faces while the men looked in amazement; women like this had never been seen in Grent, “Who are you and want do you want?” asked the leader of the council, a man in his seventies who showed the pressure of being on the loosing end of the war.
“This is the voice of the Witch-Queen, Elianna Holzberg, ruler of the Realm of Elstrand, it brings you its Mistress’s words,” said the woman in grey leather, her voice flat and emotionless.
“What is your name,” demanded one of the female Councillors, “You must have a name,” she said desperately.
“This is the voice of the Witch-Queen, Elianna Holzberg, ruler of the Realm of Elstrand, it brings you its Mistress’s words,” repeated the voice of the Witch-Queen.
The leader of the council looked at the female council member, “Please Esther, we agreed to try and remain calm in the face of this… provocation,” he said evenly, the woman nodded.
The leader of the council turned back to the two leather covered women, “What is the message you have from your… mistress?” he asked.
“The message is this,” said the Voice of the Witch-Queen, then its voice changed, instead of being cold, flat and emotionless it spoke with the actual voice of Elianna Holzberg, “Members of the Council of Grent I am Elianna Holzberg, ruler of Greater Elstrand,” there was a chuckle from the lips of the Witch-Queens voice, “You may notice I no longer say High Elstrand. The lands that were once yours are now mine; they have been incorporated into my realm, into my matriarchy, as will this city. Your conquest is inevitable but I offer you this one chance to save the city from any more destruction and to allow your citizens to survive. My terms are as follows; tomorrow at five of the clock every male in the city will depart through the North Gate, they will be allowed free and unhindered passage along the Sinter Road to the border of my country. They may take whatever they can carry but no weapons will be allowed, any man seen with a weapon will be killed without question. With the men will go all of the children below the age of eighteen, male and female, and all the women over the age of fifty. Every woman between the age of eighteen and fifty currently living within the city walls, irrespective of her status or position within the city of Breston or country of Grent will remain. This offer, to save your city and its occupants, I make only once. Make your decision and my voice will bring it back to me but think on this. My army outnumbers your by eight to one and is armed not only with superior weapons but with magic and if it is necessary to take Breston by force then not only will I raze it to the ground I will slaughter every living person that occupies it. And by the way, should you think to keep or damage my voice or its guide then the offer I have made will be rescinded and your city will be destroyed, they are to be returned to me in the condition they left. My voice will await your answer.”
Silenced by the leather hood that covered its lips and the large leather phallus that filled its mouth prime stood silently watching as pandemonium broke out amongst the members of the council. Prime had been present when her Mistress had enslaved the ambassador, led by the Witch-Queen from the pavilion to her private accommodation the ambassador had struggled desperately in the grip of the Blood-Guard as the Witch-Queens all black eyes bored into her brown ones, “You can’t do this to me, you can’t,” the ambassador had screamed as the Witch-Queens dark magic began to pulse through her, “Oh but I can my dear ambassador, you will be my voice for as long as I live, just think, you will never age,” said the Witch-Queen as the ambassador’s struggles reduced, her eyes becoming fixed on those of the Witch-Queen as her mouth fell slackly open.
The Witch-Queens magic had worked on the ambassador, erasing her personality, memories and intelligence emptying her mind of all thoughts, desires and needs, everything that had made her Laura Tellis was expunged and into the void that was left Elianna Holzberg poured obedience, submission and duty as the former ambassador was turned into the Voice of the Witch-Queen.
Prime’s Mistress had stood back and admired her latest creation, “Excellent, we’ll get a uniform made and it can begin its service to me, take it away for now, I have no need of it,” said the Witch-Queen, “Prime, get on your knees and service me, my cunt is soaking wet.”
The next day the former ambassador had been dressed in grey leather and put into the bondage it now wore, unlike the leather suits of other slaves the grey leather suit and hood that covered the body of the Witch-Queen’s voice could never be removed, they were permanently sealed. As its owner said as the tight grey leather hood was sealed in place around its head the Voice of the Witch-Queen didn’t need to see or touch, it only needed to speak.
Prime continued to watch, its Mistress’s instructions had been specific, guide the Voice of the Witch-Queen but be attentive, watch and remember everything it saw. A mixture of emotions flooded through prime as it stood beside the Voice of the Witch Queen. Pride that its Mistress had chosen it for such an important task, loss that it was so far from the Mistress it loved so completely and pleasure that its Mistress trusted it to be so far away from her. Prime clenched its cunt and arse, squeezing tightly and deliciously on the large studded dildos prime’s Mistress had forced into them.
The shouting was continuing, prime heard hostages mentioned several times as well as the words fight, resist and never being shouted by various of the Councillors; gradually the voices became quieter as the Council leader re-established control, “Councillors please, please, control yourselves don’t behave like this in the sight of our enemies,” finally the shouting and swearing subsided and all eyes once again focused on the grey and red leather covered slaves.
“What the Witch-Queen asks is unreasonable, such a decision cannot be made as quickly as she asks,” said the leader of the Council, “We need more time to make our decision,” he said as some of the Councillors shouted declaring they didn’t need time that the answer was no, that they would fight. Once again the leader of the council managed to calm the other members.
The Voice of the Witch-Queen spoke once more in its flat, toneless and emotionless voice, “The Mistress of the Voice has this message for you,” it said as its voice once again changed to that that of Elianna Holzberg, “My dear Councillors, you have obviously asked for more time, what can I say, no would be the obvious answer but I am not quite the monster you have heard of, I will give you six hours. If you do not give me an answer by that time my voice and its guide will leave and I will know you have rejected my more than generous offer. Oh by the way, perhaps you could offer my voice and its guide a seat, after all how would you like to stand up for six hours constantly in heels like they’re wearing?” The Voice of the Witch-Queen became silent as the Council of Grent began to argue amongst themselves once more.