Chapter 56: The Empress’s Entertainment

Note: This story was commissioned by Ultrasound 7 and has allowed me to share it with you. This may contain scenarios and acts that I normally wouldn’t write. There will be a strong sex slave/domination theme. I will keep this from violating any cannon established in the world and I developed the mythology that drives this story.

Kurtis – The Forbidden City, The Empire of Shizhuth

The soldiers before the doors to the banquet hall pushed them open before my party. I had Lasla on my arm, my harem behind me. Pyrriah, Mother, Princess Naryu, and Pradu would be there to watch over the weaker members.

Especially Diane.

“Lord Kurtis, Ambassador of the Queen of Naith, and Beloved Guest of our Dread Empress,” a voice boomed as my sister and I stepped into the doorway.

Heads turned to look at us, human and naga. Warleaders and shadowknights in their dark robes and nagas draped in gems filled the hall. Lamia slaves, leached to their owners, held flagons of wine to refresh drinks or trays of food for their masters. I spotted my ally, Zianamilizzi. She slithered with the others, two lamias and two of her warleaders trailing behind her.

She didn’t even glance at me. But I felt her lust quivering for me.

“Let’s mingle,” I said and stepped out into the crowd.

A lamia scurried over presenting golden goblets full of a blood-red wine. I took one and pretended to sip it, but I remembered the warning. It was clear that the nagas and the powerful warleaders had their own wine with them.

Any of these could be filled with poison. Or other drugs.

Illusions could also be swirling around us, impossible for us to make out from reality. Every eye that glanced at me held such calculation. Naga’s tails flicked back and forth as they smiled at me, their needle-sharp fangs flashing, destroying any sense of welcome.

“Lord Ambassssador,” a purple-scaled naga with small breasts said as I passed. “What a pleasure. I have high hopes for your performance in the arena.” She flicked her gaze to the back of my party. Solja and Tharaka hovered there. “High hopes.”

“As do I,” I said, nodding to her.

Lasla smiled and nodded, holding her own goblet. She flicked her eyes to me. I could feel her unease. She didn’t brim with as much lust as she should. Especially not with all the strong men here. And a centaur who stood in the back with the first human woman I had seen not collared like a slave.

Music drifted through the room. It was dark and melodic. Slow and with a hint of bitterness to it. Almost in mockery of the events. Lamia scurried about with trays of food. One naga took a grilled snail covered in a sauce and held it up to one of her lamia’s lips.

Ears pulled back, the lamia swallowed it and trembled, waiting to see if she would die. When she didn’t, the naga took one for herself and swallowed it with delight. A few others slithered over to this safe tray to snag the treat.

In a few spots in the hall, slave girls danced. They wore wispy, black silk that did nothing to hide their naked and voluptuous bodies. They swayed to the music, turning the melancholic melody into something sensual. A slow writhe as they undulated their hips, the thin cloth wrapped around their bodies sliding and shifting, sometimes revealing a breast and a hard, pierced nipple.

“I can’t wait for the games,” a voice hissed to my right. “Does the ambassssador even stand a chance against Brazen?”

“He is the best of the empress’s breeding program,” hissed another. “Best work Void hasss ever done.”

“Solja will be crushed,” a man said. “He can’t stand against Brazen. And this ambassador. Skinny. A fop surrounded by beauties.”

“Poor Ghan won’t have much fun,” the first naga hissed. “He’ssss so looking forward to a good fight, but...”

“The sphinx will be good sport.”

“Kyaza will feather her with arrows before she can even close the distance,” the man said. “Pity, Ghan does love burying his lance into his enemy.”

“And his wife,” hissed another. “Have you ever seen her rut beneath him like a mare in heat? It is a shame it is so hard for centaurs to fuck ussss.”

“Oh, it can be done,” purred a naga. “With the right harnessss.”

Lasla’s lust surged hot as she studied the centaur. Ghan. It sounded like Brazen and Ghan would both be fighting. And Kyaza must be the human woman. She had ebony skin, a hue darker than I had seen. That meant she was from the Halani Desert or the lands south of it. Maybe the Savannah. The Centaur had a dusky-olive hue to his skin and a mustache whose tails draped down past his lips and dangled beneath his chin.

“I’m looking forward to the maze,” a naga cooed. “It sssssso rarely getssss run. Eurydice so enjoyssss her fun, but ... I don’t think our ambassssador will do well in the ... negotiationssss.”

The naga’s dry laughter washed around me. They knew I could hear. They wanted to see how I would react. I pretended to sip my wine and drifted from them, my sister on my arm. The others were mingling, Pyrriah staying close to Diane, the rakshasas stalking with hunger. They looked at home here, deadly predators on the hunt.

“I wonder which of the ambassssador’s women our empresssss will keep,” another naga said as she spoke with a third group. “I hope she’ll put some on the auction block. That black-haired woman on his arm ... I bet she would squeal deliciously on my rack.”

“Oh, yes, such fine bones,” the warleader with her said. “To see her stretched out...”

“Getting stiff with eagernesssss?” the naga purred. “Maybe I’ll let you enjoy her.”

I wanted to draw my sword. I rolled my shoulders. Their words disgusted me. I hated this place far, far more than Athirmi. This snake pit should be burned to the ground. Razed. My hand balled into a fist as the sound of gurgling drew my attention.

A group of nagas laughed as one of the lamia slaves spasmed on the ground. Another lamia with a tray of treats watched on with dead eyes. I sucked in a deep breath, fighting my self-control. My sister held tighter to my arm.

“Nothing this evil lasts forever,” she whispered.

Pyrriah

I moved with Diane as she wove through the party, swaying naked save for her hair and silver necklaces. She was here to be seen. And I was here to protect her. We drifted near Solja and Tharaka. The pair of them stiffened.

Tharaka put her hand on her brother’s wrist.

The troll’s jaws tightened. He drew in deep breaths, his hands balled into fists as he glared at an orc woman crawling behind a warleader. One of the men who held power in the Empire, warleaders were taught to work with shadows, the naga’s magic.

“What?” Pyrriah asked as the warleader stopped, his orc slave also stopping. She had swarthy skin like Tharaka, her tits bigger. Soft and large. She was older with a motherly look to her face. “Who is it?”

“Our mother,” Tharaka growled. “Rwaka. I thought she was dead. They killed her.”

Solja growled.

“It’s an illusion,” I said, giving them warning glances. “Remember. They know who she is to you.”

“Yes, brother,” Tharaka said. “That’s not her. She’s free of them now. She rests in the Astral Sea with our people.”

Solja’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “They still abuse her image! I can break him in half!”

“Solja,” I said, putting my hand on his other arm, “you’ll get your chance to redress those wrongs, but when it’s the right time.”

“Will I?” He stared down at me with such fury in his eyes.

I nodded. “Kurtis will make sure of it. Let’s embarrass the empress and her champions in the arena.”

“Yes, yes, she’s new,” said the warleader. “I found her in the middens, the filthy beast, but she has rare skills.”

“Oh?” a naga hissed.

The man pulled out his cock. “See!”

The illusion of their mother opened her mouth wide, quivering in anticipation. A deep rumble rose from within Solja. I tightened my grip on his arm as his sister put her hand on his stomach to hold him back. A futile gesture.

The warleader urinated. He pissed right into the illusion’s mouth as laughter erupted around them. Those gathered glanced at Solja, mockery on their lips. He took a step forward, almost dragging me off-balance.

“It’s not real,” I hissed.

“That’s not our mother!” Tharaka growled. “Now is not the time.”

“I know,” he snarled, his entire body shaking.

The illusion trembled in ecstasy as she drank the piss. Her pussy dripped juices on the floor like she climaxed. The laughter intensified. Red fire flickered through my hair. I wanted to burn this place to the ground.

Horns blared. The trumpeting blast drew everyone’s attention. The illusion of Rwaka melted into shadows that fell to the floor and faded away. Doors at the back of the banquet hall thrust open. Shadownknights in full platemail marched out. Six of them formed two lines on either side of the door.

“All bow for her Empress, the Dread Shadow of Shizhuth, Szialianith!”

Lasla

I bowed with my brother as Szialianith slithered into the room, her scarlet hair framing her cruel and delighted face. Her lamia slaves scurried behind her, some holding flagons of wine and trays of food. Her unicorn and the maiden rode in and stayed at the back along with the clockwork slave wrapped in blue silk like the other dancers. She, too, stayed behind.

“Oh, there isssss my beloved guest,” Szialianith hissed as she spotted my brother and me. Her fingers moved ever so slightly, a gesture demanding our presence.

My brother and I moved across the room. He dropped his undrunk wine glass on a passing tray. We reached the naga empress. She was naked save for her jewelry draped over her tits. Necklaces gleaming with sapphires and rubies. The diadem my brother gave her graced her hair.

“I am so pleased that you are here, Ambassssador,” she cooed. “How are you enjoying my banquet.”

“It’s perfect,” my brother said. “The wine is excellent. The food delicious.”

She smiled. “Good, good.” She moved closer to us, creating the illusion of intimacy and privacy as the others milled around us. “You are such an interesssting young man, Kurtissss.”

“Oh?” my brother asked.

“I’ve always thought so, Your Majesty,” I said. “The most interesting man in the world.”

“It surprisssed me when we first met that you were able to worm your way into Athirmi’sss good gracesss,” the empress continued. “But then I realized you treat your slavessss as petsss the way she does. You let them prance around like lapdogs.”

“They do like to sit on my lap,” my brother said with a grin.

“I’m ssssure they do.” The empress flicked her eyes to Diane. “But you don’t leash them. They could run at any time. There’s no fear in their eyes. They don’t quiver before you.” She raised her hand.

All her lamia slaves hunched their shoulders and lowered their eyes. I felt no lusts in them. The opposite, in fact. Fear. Terror. I couldn’t work with those emotions.

“You treat them ... like ... they’re pets. Membersss of your family.”

“If you owned a horse, Your Majesty,” I said, “wouldn’t you care for it? Treat your horse well. Make sure that it served you when you commanded.”

“I would ussse my horse for itssss purpose.”

“And what is a slave’s purpose?” I pressed.

“To be owned. To be a symbol of my power. My wealth. They are a luxury, slaves. Proof that you are too important for the menial. Too grand for the mundane. They are proof of status, nothing more. And like all things, they are disposable.”

“Disposable?” my brother demanded. “You would waste them.”

“That’s the ultimate proof of power and wealth.” Empress Szialianith smiled. It did not touch her reptilian eyes. “To discard something that is whole and strong, that is still functional, is a waste that only the powerful and the rich can afford.”

“I think slaves are for pleasure,” I said. “Mine. My brother’s. My sister’s. That’s the point of slaves.”

“They’re not proof of your brother’s virility?” asked the empress. “Proof that he’s better than them. That he can bend their feeble will to him.”

“They’re not proof of anything. They’re are beloved pets.” I smiled at my brother.

He nodded.

The empress rolled her eyes. “They are status, nothing more. They are owned because we are better than they are. A god always towers over a bug.”

“Our slaves are so much greater than bugs!” I snapped, anger rising in me. “They’re almost family. No, they are family.”

“Family!” Empress Szialianith hissed in laughter. Her big breasts jiggled beneath her necklaces. “Oh, yes, yes, family! I killed three of my daughters this year for trying to take my throne. Family is a weapon that can easily bite you as your enemy.”

“What a sad world you live in,” I said, shaking my head. “All alone.”

“A goddess is always alone.” Her eyes flicked to my brother. “Where does her—or his—equal lie?”

The anger flared hotter in me. “I’m my brother’s equal!”

“It’s ... cute that he lets you think that.”

I fought my tongue. I had words to say to her but now wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place. It would just make things worse for Kurtis and me. I forced it down as the empress smiled, almost waiting for me to shout at her.

“Once, I owned a valkyrie. The hardest slave I had ever collected. She was unlike any other I have owned even to this day. First, I had to kill her einherjar. I nearly died. Even then, I had to take her alive. I had to capture her. What a wild thing. It took me three years to break her. And once I had, she was a marvel. So eager to please me. Willing to do anything.

“I enjoyed her like that only for two months before three of her sister valkyrie and their einherjar had finally tracked her down and attacked my place. They slaughtered my shadowknights and soldiers and took her from me. Their raid shook the capital. All eyes stared at me, wondering if I would fall. I had lost my status when they took my prize.”

“I don’t see your valkyrie here,” I said. “Did you fail to recover her?”

“I recovered her.” Anger flashed across the naga’s face as she stared at me. She hated me. I could feel it. “I hungered down the valkyrie. By then, only one valkyrie had remained alive. Three of my best ogres died killing her. But my pet returned to me. She crawled to me, begging for my forgiveness, wanting to just eat my pussy again.”

“So what happened to her?” my brother asked as my stomach twisted.

“I bit her.” Empress Szialianith looked around at her court. “Before my subjects, all the nagas in the realm. I bit my most precious slave and watched as she died at my feet gurgling in pain. I could not allow what I owned to be soiled. A goddess can never be cuckolded.” She laughed, a hissing sound of joy.

My stomach curdled with disgust. A powerful hatred rushed through me.

“I suppose that’s one way to handle it,” my brother said, keeping his words neutral. Tension tightened the muscles in his arm I clung to.

“I suppose you would have welcomed her back and shown your weakness,” said the empress. “Well, we cannot all be divine.” She nodded her head to my brother. “Excuse me, I must spread my love to all my subjects.”

“Of course,” Kurtis said, bowing to her.

I did the same, so glad to see her slithering away. I held my tongue until she was out of earshot and groaned, “Ugh, she leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. She’s foul. Rotten.”

My brother nodded in agreement.

Kurtis

I kept a watch on Diane especially as the party continued. The whispered words reached my ears as I moved around with my sister pretending to have some fun. Her disgust dwindled as her lust swelled once more. The centaur kept drawing her eyes.

Of course, it would. She was a horny thing, and he was just the sort of temptation she would enjoy. The wife drew my eye, but the centaur would be hard to control. He had a wild, unbridled lust. It throbbed in him. He was not one to be broken easily.

After another half-hour or so, the empress slithered to a small dais set up in the center of the room. Her lamia knelt around her. Two were rubbing oil into her scales, making the crimson gleam. She faced them all, her large breasts swaying beneath her necklaces.

“Once more, our great feud with Naith has erupted,” the empress hissed. I gathered with the others, watching. Listening. “Their freebooters and pirates harassssss our peacssseful shipssss plying the Nimborgoth, sssstealing our slavessss. She denies it, but a cat ever hides her claws. She promisssses to ‘attend’ to the matter if we can defeat her noble ambassssador.”

Every eye flicked to me. I felt them scrutinizing me.

Measuring me. They sought to see how strong I would be.

“Yes, yes, what a mighty ambassssador they have sent us,” she continued.

Laughter echoed through the room. It rippled around me. I didn’t care. I let it ripple over me. Lasla stiffened against me. I didn’t say a word at their mockery, but the anger stewed in me. I had to keep my emotions under control.

Facing Throwia was far, far more unnerving than this.

They looked at me, at my family, like we were prey. They hungered for us. All the nagas’ tongues flicked out, tasting the air. They hungered to see me broken. They lusted to see me bent. I could feel them all growing wet over it.

“If Ambassssador Kurtis and his party overcome the three challenges, then Queen Athirmi is right. It is not her freebooters and pirates that prey on us. She will owe us no reparation. We will have to hunt those bitches down ourselves and crush them beneath the boot of our warleaders!”

Angry hisses filled the air. Tails swished. The hunger in their eyes intensified. This was more than their pride. Money was being lost. Some of these nagas bled wealth from the actions of these pirates serving Queen Athirmi.

“Step forward, Ambassssador, and choose who shall face my negotiators in the arena?” she hissed.

I pulled away from my sister and stepped before Empress Szialianith, facing her without fear. I stood with my back straight. If I could look Throwia in the eyes, I could withstand these hissing snakes nipping at my ankles.

This serpent thought she was divine? I almost snorted in contempt.

“First, who shall face my Braven, the mightiest of my ogres, in one-on-one combat in the arena. Who shall fight to the death with him, Ambassssador?” She leaned in. “And now that you must compete in one of the events personally.”

“Solja!” I declared, motioning to the troll. “None are mightier than him. Not some ogre. He will break your ogre’s back and smash his skull to jelly!”

The nagas hissed their laughter as Solja loomed. The troll shook with his anger, his sister at his side. I brought him to get his revenge. He hated this place. He was ready for the fight.

“Excellent choicssse,” hissed the empress. “Now who shall face my brave Ghan and his wife in the equestrian match? Who shall ride and upon what mount?”

“I shall upon my sphinx, Nephi!” I declared.

I felt Pyrriah’s concern bursting in her. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, her red hair flashing with fiery light. She reached for a sword she wasn’t wearing in her blue robes of silk that hugged her gorgeous body.

I had promised she would stand by my side, but the rules were the rules.

“And the Maze of Malice?” asked the empress.

Maze? I heard whispers of a maze, but I thought these were arena fights.

“Which two shall face the traps and pitfalls of the Maze of Malice and reach the center? It takes cunning to outwit Eurydice’s and her devices.” The empress stared at her. “Choose, Ambassssador.”

“Myself and my twin sister Pyrriah,” I said. If I could take two in there, then the choice was easiest.

“Done,” the empress said. She slithered off the dais. Other slaves took it away as the Empress fell in beside me. She leaned in and added, “Perhapssss now that we have that little decision out of the way, we can have a stirring bit of entertainment. Your moon maiden dancing with my clockwork. That would be ... delightful.”

“It would be,” I said. “Diane!”

“Lord Kurtis!” my moon maiden gasped. She slid through the crowd, leaving Pyrriah behind. My graceful slave reached me, her silvery hair falling around her naked body. Her lusts brimmed in her. She needed to do such wicked things.