-----------
To say Mirellia Q. Melromarc was a tad overworked these days would be an understatement of biblical proportions. Between handling her standard duties as Queen of Melromarc, quashing the Church’s constant attempts to gain even more power, and trying to keep her power-crazed firstborn daughter in line, she had been running herself ragged for years even with the assistance of her Shadows.
Then, as if she wasn’t dealing with enough problems, the newest set of Waves had begun, and her idiot of a husband had summoned all four Legendary Heroes within Melromarc’s borders. The only reason she hadn’t rushed home and demanded to know what had possessed him to do something so monumentally stupid was because she was too busy trying to talk the leaders of every other country in the world out of declaring war over his actions - especially after word spread of her daughter’s little stunt with the Shield Hero.
And so, she’d begun a long, exhausting balancing act between managing foreign relations and trying to get a handle on her own country’s affairs. Half her time was spent negotiating with dignitaries and royals, persuading them that fighting the Waves would be a better use of their resources than beginning a doomed campaign against a kingdom defended by all four Heroes. The other half was spent using her Shadows to communicate with her contacts throughout Melromarc, calling upon them to aid the Shield Hero and mitigate the damage caused by the other three misguided Heroes.
Looking back, if one of her Shadows hadn’t intervened, she probably would have worked herself into an early grave. Though some might have called it insubordination, the Shadow had spoken to Mirellia in private and forced her to accept the cold, hard truth: she had stretched herself too thin. She was trying to do too many things in too many places, all without even a moment of relaxation.
Luckily, her Shadow had given her the exact solution she needed, pointing her toward a local massage parlor that she swore would give the Queen a brand new outlook on life. Mirellia had been more than a little skeptical at first, but she had to admit, the results spoke for themselves. She left her first session feeling more relaxed than she had been in years!
In fact, she’d enjoyed her time there so much, she hadn’t been able to resist coming back for another session the next day. Or the day after that. Soon enough, visiting the massage parlor became a standard part of her daily routine, something she could look forward to at the end of a long day of political maneuvering and behind-the-scenes manipulations.
Today marked the one-month anniversary of her first massage, and as usual, she had arrived promptly at dusk for her scheduled appointment. As she knocked on the faded wooden door of the parlor, she couldn’t help wondering why she’d been so apprehensive about this place the first time she visited. Sure, the parlor was in a rough part of town and didn’t have much in the way of decoration, but there was just something inexplicably comforting about the old building.
A thin slot slid open on the front of the door, allowing a pair of piercing blue eyes to peer out at her. Seconds later, the door opened wide, revealing a tall, wiry green-haired man in a blue robe.
“A pleasure to see you as always, Your Majesty,” the man said with a genuine smile, stepping aside to allow her entry. “Here for your usual treatment, I assume?”
“The pleasure is all mine, Roland,” Mirellia said, striding into the waiting room at the front of the parlor. “Believe me, I’ve been waiting for this all day!”
As usual, the waiting room was completely packed. Nearly two dozen men were seated in the chairs around the room, patiently waiting for their turn in the massage room. She scowled as a few of them let their eyes linger over her body a little too long, but didn’t say anything. As long as she got her massage, she could live with a little harmless leering.
“Right this way, Your Majesty,” Roland said, leading her past the men and through the heavy oaken door at the other side of the room. A small part of her felt guilty that she always got to jump to the front of the line whenever she visited, but she supposed royalty had its perks.
As soon as Mirellia entered the massage room, the familiar scent of burning incense filled her nose, and she compulsively took a deep breath. Faintly, she recalled hating the overpowering smell during her first visit - something about how it had made her feel lightheaded. Apparently it was an acquired taste, though, because now she couldn’t imagine undergoing a massage treatment without it.
Without even thinking about it, she began to undo her dress, letting it drop to the floor around her feet. Garment by garment, the rest of her clothing joined it in a pile until she stood completely naked in front of the massage table. It was an entirely automatic response - so automatic, in fact, that she didn’t even realize she was nude.
“Eager today, aren’t we, Your Majesty?” Roland chuckled as he quickly closed and padlocked the door behind them, preventing the men in the lobby from getting more than a brief glimpse of Mirellia’s naked body. “Just don’t get too excited. You came here to relax, remember?”
“I-I know, I’ve just had a rougher day than usual,” Mirellia said, briefly stumbling over her words as a odd sensation of soothing calm suddenly spread through her body. “The representative from Siltvelt just wouldn’t see-”
“Ah, ah, none of that, Your Majesty,” Roland scolded with a teasing smile. “You know the rules: whenever you walk through that door, you leave your title and all the stress that comes with it outside. There’ll be plenty of time for you to work out all those problems once you’re nice and relaxed.”
Another soothing wave washed over Mirellia, momentarily pushing her political concerns from her mind. “Y-yes, that’s right. I really shouldn’t be talking so freely about these matters…”
“Well, it’s natural to let things like that slip out when you’re so relaxed,” Roland continued. “But relaxing is what you came here to do. You want to be as relaxed as possible, because you make much better decisions when you’re relaxed.”
“Y-yes…” Mirellia stammered out, her thoughts slowing to the pace of cold molasses as her mind and body were hammered with wave after wave of overpowering calm. It felt like her limbs were turning to lead, weighing her down and dragging her deeper into an ocean of absolute relaxation.
Not only that, but there was another, subtler sensation mixed in as well, something she’d been too distracted to notice at first: arousal. There was an inexplicable feeling of heat between her legs, causing her womanhood to rapidly grow slick from her juices. Normally, she would have been scandalized by a situation like this, but she was too overcome by calm to care about such a minor issue.
“Go on, say it,” Roland prompted her. “Tell me why you’re here.”
“I-I’m… I’m here b-because… I w-want to r-relax…” Even though she could barely muster the mental energy to string a sentence together right now, the words seemed to come unbidden from Mirellia’s lips.
“Good girl. Now, before you get yourself so relaxed that you can’t even stand, why don’t you climb up onto the massage table so I can help you relax even more?”
Obediently, Mirellia climbed onto the padded leather table behind her, laying down on her back. Her conscious mind was almost completely suppressed by now, too completely relaxed to even think. She was little more than a puppet - which would explain why she didn’t question a thing when four thin wooden planks extended diagonally from the corners of the table. Instead, she simply stretched her weary arms and legs out, letting them rest on the planks in a spreadeagle position.
She didn’t say a word as Roland approached and began strapping her down, securing her wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees to the planks using several leather belts attached to the device. A few additional straps around her waist and above and below her breasts ensured she couldn’t move her body, either. Once she was completely trapped, he held up a final accessory: a large, purple rubber ball the same color as her hair, attached to a tangled harness of straps.
“Relax your jaw, slut. It’s almost time for the real fun to start,” Roland sneered, his tone lacking any of the respect he’d shown the Queen before. He had no need to pretend at this point - in her current state, there was no chance Mirellia would wake up on her own. She’d remain completely under his power until he spoke the proper trigger words, at which point she’d wake up with no memory of what had happened during her trance.
Unthinkingly, Mirellia parted her lips, allowing Roland to cram the ball gag into her mouth and buckle the harness around her head. Strictly speaking, gagging her when she was already hypnotized into a state of mindlessly horny obedience was unnecessary, but Roland believed in being as thorough as possible. In the exceedingly unlikely event she unexpectedly regained her senses in the middle of her “session”, the gag would keep her from calling for help or casting spells until he could put her back under.
With a spring in his step, Roland crossed back over to the door and unlocked the padlock, allowing in the first of the many unscrupulous men lined up outside.
“Alright, gentlemen, you’ve paid in advance and you all know the rules,” Roland said with a broad grin. “No removing her restraints or gag or doing anything that would draw blood, but anything else is fair game. Only one man at a time, and your turn ends as soon as you cum. You can go again if you want, but you have to go to the back of the line first. And don’t think you can get away with breaking the rules when I’m not looking - this whole room is being recorded at all times. Any questions?”
When none of the men responded, Roland stepped out of the way and motioned the first man toward the bound, drooling form of the Queen. “In that case, gentlemen, you may begin at your leisure!”
The man wasted no time unbuttoning the front of his pants and stepping up between Mirellia’s legs, prodding the tip of his erection against her dripping pussy. A few seconds of foreplay was all the warning Mirellia received before he slammed his length into her hard enough to rattle the bench, filling the room with her pleasured moans.
It was only to be expected - Roland had mixed a powerful aphrodisiac in with the incense, one that was specially formulated via magic to affect Mirellia and only Mirellia. Right now, her body’s sensitivity to pleasure was nearly five times what it would normally be.
As the man mercilessly plowed the Queen with all his might, Roland took the opportunity to slip off to the back room of the parlor. It wasn’t as if he’d be missing anything he hadn’t already seen hundreds of times over the past month - and more importantly, the magical security devices he’d set up around his parlor had just silently alerted him to the arrival of a certain benefactor of his. It wouldn’t do to keep her waiting after all she’d done for his business, especially knowing how impatient she was…
Sure enough, almost as soon as the soundproofed back room door was closed behind Roland, a sharp female voice cut through the silence.
“Well? Have you made any progress changing her mind yet?”
“Errr… not quite yet, Your Highness,” Roland admitted. “Implanting some triggers and weak compulsions is one thing, but I still don’t have quite enough of a grip on her psyche to force her to make such a major decision - at least, not when she’s not in a complete trance, anyway.”
“You mean to tell me that after all this time, you still can’t provide me with the one thing I asked for?” the woman demanded. “I didn’t bribe that Shadow with a small fortune just so you could sit around and pad your wallet!”
“I c-can’t apologize enough, Your Highness!” Roland stammered, bowing as deeply as possible to the armored woman standing before him. He wasn’t normally the type of man to kowtow like this, but he had to be honest - he had never met a woman who scared him as much as Malty Melromarc. Not because she was exceptionally powerful or dangerous or anything like that, but simply because she was the most vile, twisted, heartless individual he’d ever met.
After all, it took a special kind of fucked-up mind to sell out your own mother to one of the most infamous brothel owners in the criminal underworld.
“Just two more weeks, I promise! I just need to make sure she’s completely under my control, and then I can start making some ‘suggestions’ about giving you a second chance as her heir!”
“...Very well. Two weeks, and nothing more,” Malty finally declared. “Just make sure you’re ready to make her ‘disappear’ permanently once my birthright is returned. I assure you, you’ll be richly rewarded for your service.”
Roland chuckled darkly. “Indeed I will. Of course, I would have been willing to accept payment in gold, but I could hardly turn down the offer of an entire country could I?”
“What? What are you-” An expression of shock tinged with murderous fury spread across Malty’s face as the pieces fell into place for her. Unfortunately, she’d come to that realization a second too late. The incense stick Roland had smuggled into the room was small and barely noticeable, but it was more than enough to quickly fill the small back room with its fragrance. By the time she opened her mouth to cast a spell, he had already spoken the three words that would seal her fate.
“Sit, Bitch Princess.”
Instantly, Malty dropped to her hands and knees, her normal disdainful expression replaced by an eager, wide-eyed smile. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she began panting like a dog, her mind wiped clean and her arousal cranked up to impossible levels.
“A little life lesson for you, Bitch Princess,” Roland drawled. “If you’re going to employ someone you know is a powerful hypnotist, don’t meet with them in person long enough for them to start implanting triggers. While your plan to seize the throne was certainly clever, I couldn’t resist the chance to make a few changes. You’ll still become the new Queen - and as your soon-to-be husband, I’ll be ascending to royalty right alongside you. And your mother will definitely be disappearing permanently - straight to the royal bedchambers. After all, why have only one brainwashed royal fuck-pet when I can have two?”
With a smug grin of victory, he unbuttoned the front of his pants and pulled out his semi-erect shaft, watching with satisfaction as Malty mindlessly crawled toward him and kneeled in front of him. “Excellent! It seems some of the conditioning I applied the last time we spoke is still working. Now, let’s see if those little tricks I taught you to do with your mouth are still somewhere in that empty head of yours as well…”
No comments:
Post a Comment