Chapter 2: Building Tension
A gilded mirror reflected the sumptuous chamber, but Amelia's attention was focused on the couple before her. Catherine and Margaret entered their private chambers, their silhouettes casting long shadows against the ornate fireplace.
"Did you have fun talking to Josephine?" Catherine asked, her voice silky smooth, the edges sharp as a razor. She ran her fingers through Margaret's hair, a tender gesture belying her true intentions. "You did seem very interested in her, my dear."
Margaret flushed, looking away as she admitted, "I was simply admiring her attire."
"Mmhmm. Yet you couldn't stop looking, could you?" Catherine let go of Margaret's hair and turned to Amelia. “Strip the unfaithful dog.” Catherine commanded, her voice echoing through the gold-embossed room.
Amelia didn’t hesitate, she tore off the innocent looking queen dress with great ferocity. Margaret just lets it happen with dishearten resignation. This was by no means the first time she was being punished, to have her clothes ripped off her, to have her big breasts, soft curves and round hips exposed.
A wave of shame washed over her, but she could not keep herself from responding, her body trembling under Amelia's rough hands.
Catherine watched, the corners of her lips turned up into a satisfied smirk. She loved seeing her control, her dominance manifesting in Margaret's shame and arousal. She stepped closer, her fingers trailing down Margaret's trembling cheek, until they rested on the cursed gift she'd given her wife: a sizable dick, lying dormant against her thigh.
"I find it difficult to believe you don't enjoy it, Margaret."
Margaret shuddered at the thought of being aroused by the appendage she hated. Despite the evidence, she firmly denied Catherine's accusations. "I-I don't desire them. I could never betray you." Margaret's voice wavered, and she looked at Catherine with sad eyes. She was trapped in this miserable existence, and each passing day felt like a lifetime.
“And yet you keep doing just that. again and again. I love you so much and you keep breaking my heart.
The fire crackled in the fireplace, illuminating Catherine's face in flickering gold. She caressed Margaret’s cheek, her thumb brushing against the soft skin, lingering as if trying to feel its warmth.
"I don't want to hurt you," Catherine murmured. "But I must teach you a lesson."
She waved her hand, conjuring an ornate crop. Leather strips dangled from its handle, while the tip was embellished with intricate carvings of dragons and roses, a deadly dance of pleasure and pain.
"Bend over.”
Margaret obeyed and bent over, presenting her ass towards her wife while her breast and dick hung down towards the floor.
Amelia moved towards the corner of the room, her eyes never leaving the couple. She held now sympathy for the stupid cow, queen Margaret, feeling that she deserved everything she got.
The soft curves, plump lips and delicate frame that hinted at a lifetime of favoritism and privilege, none of it swayed Amelia's judgment. Margaret had been complicit in the betrayal of Catherine in the past, the very betrayal that had robbed Amelia of everything. The only thing that was stopping her from taking vengeance upon the cow was that she was Amelia’s salvor, empress Catherine, doll.
Catherine raised her arm to strike Margaret’s ass with the crop, she paused, savoring the anticipation. Her muscles tensed with excitement, her heart raced. Margaret’s body flinched just as the crop cut through the air, causing a heated whisper of leather against soft, powder-pale skin.
A ripple of pleasure twisted its way through her stomach, and she desperately longed to hide her body’s sinful reactions. The first strike lingered in the air, its sting already abating. Margaret focused on the dull ache, letting it dominate her emotions, shoving away the treacherous pleasure. Catherine grunted, the crop resting against her wife’s body with a tender familiarity before raising it high once more, striking Margaret again. And again.
The queen's body shivered beneath the flick of the crop, and her dick grewing harder. It was agonizing to accept the evidence of her arousal, betraying her deepest secrets. She bit her lip, trying to strangle her gasps of shame and pleasure.
Catherine continued her assault upon Margaret's tender backside, enjoying the way the flesh quivered and melted under the lashings. The dark satisfaction she derived from this fuelled her actions more than she'd care to admit. She reveled in the power she held, savouring every drop of it. Still, it was not enough, not yet. Not when the little queen continued to protest her innocence, even as she desired Catherine as much as Catherine lusted for her.
"Catherine, no more," Margaret begged, the vulnerability in her voice only enticing Catherine further. Again, the crop cut through the air, painting pale flesh with red marks echoing a deep, twisted connection between them. An unspoken understanding passed between them: this was the game they played. Catherine's expertly wielded punishment fueled Margaret's secret desires, even if she loathed herself for it.
Catherine only paused as precum started to leak from Margaret's erect member.
She traced the tip of the crop through the slick fluid, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Did you enjoy your punishment, Margaret?" she asked, malice dripping from every word.
Margaret shuddered at the sensation, tears streaming down her cheeks. She desperately wished to be free from the cursed gift, and the strange pleasure it brought her, a cruel reminder of her inability to deny her desires.
"No, I didn't," she whispered weakly.
Amelia watched from the corner, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She could not help but revel in Margaret's misery, a twisted sense of satisfaction taking hold of her as she witnessed the queen's torment.
Catherine took a step back, her eyes narrowed in thought.
An idea ignited in her mind, a cruel game, one that would further plant a wedge between them.
"I think you're lying," she said softly.
Margaret raised her tear-streaked face with hope gleaming in her eyes. "Please, Catherine. I cannot take it anymore."
The words barely had time to leave her lips before the empress replied, her voice sharp as a knife. "You dare to lie to me, after everything I've done for you?"
She snapped her fingers and pointed to the corner of the room.
"Amelia, I want you to take care of it. I want it clean, pristine."
Amelia's smirk deepened as she stepped out of the shadows, snatching the crop from Catherine's hand. "With pleasure, your majesty," she sneered while taking long strides towards the broken queen, whose eyes went wide with fresh fear.
Catherine's tone grew colder with each word. "You're a disgrace, cheating on me with your own lust and betraying your nobility. And for what? For a thrilling moment, you crave another woman? Your mind, Margaret, has always been too simple, easily swayed by desire. As I watched you look at Josephine tonight, all I wanted was to remind you of the pain that comes with the betrayal. Some might say that it's wrong for me to inflict this discipline on you, but we both know that I’m not" Catherine mused, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she delved into the depths of her own mind.
Amelia stood nearby, her eyes reflecting a sinister joy that mirrored Catherine's twisted sense of justified morality. She remembered well how she had been stripped of her nobility, reputation, and life itself because of Margaret's youthful naïveté.
Amelia presents Catherine with a small velvet box, who reached into it and picked up its content, an exquisite magic cock ring. Its gleaming metalwork crafted into the intricate shape of vines, flowers, and tendrils.
Margaret's breath caught in her throat, panic flooding her veins. "Catherine, no!" she cried out as she took a step back, desperately trying to cover her massive dick. “Please not that, I promise that I will be good this time, just not that!”
This was why Amelia thought that Margaret was nothing more than a stupid horny cow, she should already know that any difference against her majesty would only make things worse, yet she resisted.
The defiant look in Margaret's eyes was quickly overshadowed by fear, as Catherine's fingers closed over the magic cock ring.
“Present yourself.” Catherine ordered and Margaret reluctantly obeyed, taking an reluctant step forward, her hands behind her ass, pushing her hips forward.
Catherine threaded the ring over Margaret's throbbing erection, past the head, along the shaft and down to the thick veiny base, relishing the feeling of her wife's struggles. With each twitch and dance, the enchanted ring pulsed and squeezed, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Margaret's trembling body. She gasped for breath, buckled like a frightened colt before her master.
"Tonight, you're merely a pretty ornament I own, someone to be used and admired. Nothing more." Catherine said, every word cutting deep into the queen’s core.
“Yes, Your Majesty." Margaret replied in a broken voice.
Her body still shook, and her cheeks were stained with tears, but the fight had left her eyes. Catherine studied her wife, her gaze filled with a mixture of satisfaction and affection.
"I'm glad to see you understand," she said softly, before turning to Amelia. "Help me undress, please."
Amelia quickly approached Catherine, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she looked upon the defeated queen. She unfastened the elaborate gown with practiced fingers, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud.
"Much better," Catherine murmured, stepping out of the pile of fabric. Her fingers traced the embroidered patterns on her undergarments, while Margaret couldn't help but watch, her eyes glued to the movements.
"Remove them," Catherine commanded.
Amelia obeyed her empress without a word, pulling the delicate garments off Catherine's body with calculated slowness. Each layer revealed more of her regal figure, a contrast to the trembling form of Margaret. Underneath lacy lingerie Catherine's body was slim but well shaped, with small round breasts and a lit behind.
Her body was an image of power, the muscles sculpted by years of martial practice and military campaigns. She took a seat in an ornate chair and beckoned for Margaret to come closer.
"Lean forward," she commanded, her voice dripping with authority.
Margaret obeyed, her heart pounding as she slowly moved into position. The enchanted ring around her throbbing erection sent pulsing waves of pleasure through her body, making it impossible for her to ignore the arousal that threatened to consume her.
Catherine's gaze dropped to Margaret's erection, and she smirked. "I see you're still enjoying yourself."
Margaret flushed, looking away in shame.
She let out a whimper as the enchanted ring pulsed with renewed vigor, tightening ever so slightly and stirring the depths of her treacherous desires.
As Margaret leaned forward, her body submitted to Catherine's will, her back arched, and her bared breasts pressed against the empress's knee. Catherine couldn't help but marvel at the power she wielded over Margaret.
"Open your mouth," Catherine instructed, and Margaret obeyed, opening up her mouth and sticking out her tongue.
Catherine spread her legs, revealing her neatly trimmed, glistening cunt. A small, seductive smile graced her lips, as she observed the way Margaret's gaze shifted to focus on the glistening folds of her sex.
"Lick," she whispered, and Margaret did as she was told, her tongue darting out to taste the sweet nectar that coated Catherine's pussy lips. The empress sighed in satisfaction as she felt the warmth of Margaret's mouth against her. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of her wife's tongue exploring her most intimate spaces.
Amelia watched from the corner of the room, her face expressionless as she observed the scene unfolding before her. She would not let herself be swayed by the obscene display, her mind focused on her duty to ensure Catherine's wishes were met.
Catherine's hand reached out to Amelia. “Wine.” she commanded as she grind her hips against Margaret's face.
Amelia instantly brought forth a marvelously exquisite crystal goblet and a matching pitcher. She gave the goblet to Catherine and poured her the wine before resting the pitcher upon Margaret’s back. Catherine took a slow sip of her wine, swilling it around her mouth before swallowing it down with a satisfied sigh and placing the goblet on her submissive wife.
Margaret was still leaning forward, her head buried in Catherine's crotch as she desperately tried to please her dominant wife. It was just that she now needs to balance the two objects as well.
Catherine enjoyed Margaret’s trepidation for a moment, moaning softly as she did. “Amelia, prepare some milk for the dog.” Catherine’s gaze never left Margaret’s face, watching her reactions closely.
Margaret whimpered, the fear and disgust evident in her eyes. She tried to pull away, but Catherine’s hand pressed down firmly on her head, forcing her to remain in place.
“No, please, I beg you!” Margaret pleaded, her voice shaking.
Amelia’s lips curled into a sneer as she watched the scene unfold. She fetched another crystal goblet and placed it below Margaret, before putting on a pair of gloves. The stupid cow’s cuck belonged to the empress after all, and only she was allowed to touch i directly.
Catherine’s grip on Margaret’s head tightened, her voice barely above a whisper. “You will do as I say, Margaret, because you love me.”
Amelia moved behind Margaret, kneeling down and reaching for the cursed dick with a sinister gleam in her eyes.
She wrapped her gloved hand around it, tugging and pulling with practiced precision. Margaret's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to make sense of the conflicting sensations rioting through her body.
The enchanted ring pulsed with renewed energy, squeezing tighter and sending waves of pleasure crashing through her, while simultaneously preventing her from reaching the release she so desperately craved. It was a cruel game of torment, one that left Margaret both hating and needing Amelia's touch.
Catherine watched with a raised eyebrow as Amelia worked the cursed dick, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "You see, Margaret, this is what you get when you can't control yourself. It's a constant reminder of your weaknesses and desires."
Margaret's gaze shifted from Catherine to Amelia, her eyes pleading for mercy.
But Amelia's eyes were as cold and unfeeling as the metals of the cuck ring. She pursed her lips, tightening her grip on the throbbing duck. Margaret squealed as she felt her senses overwhelmed by pleasure and shame, unsure which of the two was stronger. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the relentless rhythm of pleasure and torment.
Catherine leaned back in her chair, “By the way, Margaret, when were you permitted to stop licking me?” she asked, her tone dripping with malice.
Margaret raised her head at this, her mouth still wet from the empress’s cunt, embarrassment and frustration etched on her features. But Catherine was only amused, reaching out to stroke Margaret’s cheek lovingly, “Such a pretty little queen I have. Shame you need discipline like this, don’t you?” Catherine looked deep into Margaret’s eyes, the depth of her twisted love for the young queen shone brightly.
Margaret looked back at Catherine, her eyes full of hurt and shame, for she had caused this pain on herself. If only she could deny herself the pleasure that came with the cruelly cursed appetizer between her legs. But even as she thought it, she whimpered at another pulse of immense pleasure, her back arching and the wine spilling.
Catherine chuckled and stroked her cheek, her thumb wiping away a tear rolled down from Margaret's eye. "Now, tell me, what did you find so attractive about Josephine?" Catherine looked at her with an unreadable expression.
The question lingered, thickening the tension already hanging heavily in the air. Amelia continued to tug relentlessly at Margaret's dick, adding to her shame and pleasure. Margaret couldn't help but think of Josephine's smug smile, the arrogant tilt of her head as she spoke to the empress, the way she seemed to know exactly how to twist the knife without even touching it.
Margaret trembled under Catherine's touch, shame and guilt washing over her. "She... she reminded me of you. Strong, confident, unafraid." She hesitated, her voice barely audible.
Amelia snorted at Margaret's response, her fingers still wrapped tightly around the massive magic dick. Shaking her head, she continued her assault on the poor girl's shameful appendix.
But Catherine's expression softened, and she let out a laugh. “So you love me so much that just one of me isn't enough for you?” Catherine teased, her voice light and playful. A smile tugged at the corners of Margaret's lips, the first time she'd allowed such an expression since her punishment began. She shook her head, trying to dispel the delirious thoughts invading her mind.
“It’s not like that, my love,” Margaret replied, her voice breathless, wracked with conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure. “I swear, I only have eyes for –.”
Margaret was interrupted as Catherine changed the setting of the cock ring. Margaret screamed and convulsed as she was forced to cum with all she had.
The pulsating waves of pleasure were almost unbearable, her whole body trembling against her will. Catherine's smile never faltered, a deep sadistic enjoyment evident in her eyes as she watched Margaret endure the climax that swept through her trembling form. She reveled in the power she held over her wife, her cheeks flushed with raw pleasure and satisfaction while Amelia continued to milk every last orgasmic spurt from Margaret's over-stimulated cursed womanhood.
And then ,just as suddenly as before, the cuck ring constricted, cutting off Margaret's ejaculation in the middle of it. Her entire body spasmed, whimpers of confusion and discomfort escaping her trembling lips.
Catherine’s smile remained unwavering, her eyes filled with a dark and unhinged passion. “Why do you lie to me?” Catherine whispered, the ring tightening even further. “I’m the only one that loves you, that can love you, so why do you keep forcing me to do this to you?”
Margaret, still splayed open and vulnerable in front of her, trembled under the weight of the question, panting as she tried to find her voice amongst the tumultuous waves of ecstasy that threatened to rupture her being. She knew all too well the sadistic nature of her wife and was no stranger to the consequences when faced with defying even a whisper of Catherine’s command.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I can’t help it, I love you so much, please forgive me.” Margaret sobbed, her body trembling from the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure.
A heavy, cynical laugh escaped Amelia’s lips, earning her a disapproving look from Catherine. she hurriedly stood up and brought the milk-filled goblet towards the empress, presenting white liquid to her.
Amelia knew that she was in an unique position of privileged being allowed to serve empress Catherine in her private movements, but she also knew that didn’t by no means mean she was above the empress wrath.
Catherine took the goblet and smelled it like it was a rare wine. "Sit down and stick out your tongue.” she commanded.
Amelia and Margaret exchanged a terrified look, unsure which one of them she was speaking to.
Margaret gulped and tentatively sat down and stuck out her tongue, as ordered. Amelia let out a silent sigh when Catherine moved the goblet above the stupid cow to pour the filthy seeds into her mouth. Only for the empress to throw the cows warm cum in Amelia’s face.
Amelia gritted her teeth but wisely chose not to show any reaction, not even wiping her face.
“Prepare the queen for the night,” Catherine instructed, her voice cold, “After that head to the downstai library.”
Amelia’s eyes went wide with fear, but she just bowed politely, “As you command.” she said as she turned to the cow who looked at her with sympathetic eyes, this infuriated Amelia since it was the stupid cow fault that she was being punished.
She gripped Margaret's wrists tightly and dragged her to the large four-poster bed, its golden fabric drapes casting a warm glow over the room.
The young queen stumbled as she was pulled along, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her as she was forced onto the bed, her body trembling as Amelia bound her wrists and ankles to the bedposts with rough, unforgiving ropes.
The bed was large and luxurious, with plush velvet cushions and intricately carved wooden headboard, a stark contrast to the cold, unforgiving ropes that held Margaret captive. She tried to pull against her restraints, but they held firm, leaving her completely at Amelia's mercy.