Captive to the Queen
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: NileGoddess on 05-09-2009, 03:50:31</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NileGoddess</strong> on <strong>05-09-2009, 03:50:31</strong>
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				"My Goddess, we have brought the one you desire."<br><br>It was her captain of the guard, a tall, muscular Nubian woman with deep, almost black skin and wild curly hair. Cleopatra raised her head from her arm in interest. She had been laying on her massage bed, completely nude while two young slave girls worked her silk skin with lotion and oil. 'The one she desired'...such a common phrase to her, yet never did it go unheeded, for to deny the queen <em>anything</em> was blasphemy. The man she saw in the city was within her clutches.<br><br>"Good. Bring him to my throne room. I want him bound and naked when I arrive."<br><br>The Nubian captain bowed. "Yes my Goddess, as you wish." She departed from the Queen's parlor to carry out her orders.<br><br>"Dress me, slaves, and do it quickly." Cleopatra curtly ordered her servants. The women meekly obeyed, one of them presenting her golden thong at ankle level. Cleopatra slid off the bed, slipping her feet through the waistband and allowing the girl to pull it up her legs. The lotion on her skin made her bronze tan glow in the early afternoon sunlight. The slave girl busied herself around the Queen's loins, making sure the patch of gold silk properly cover her vagina, and the cloth didn't ride up the crack of her buttocks.<br><br>The other slave began to adorn her with her royal jewels, first her necklace, then the bangles and bracelets she wore. Once all were in place, the two each braided the straps of her sandals in place. The straps of leather twisted and wrapped up her calves, ending just beneath the knees. They adorned her long, sculpted legs as snakes would wrap around a tree branch. <br><br>Once finished, the slaves murmured quietly, obediently kneeling on either side of her. Cleopatra strode off briskly to towards the enormous throne room that sat at the front of her palace. The warm, dry desert air that wafted through the halls from many balconies and windows cooled her oiled and glistening skin. The leather of her sandals patted softly along the marble floor, each tile mortared in gold. Whenever she came across another being, whether it be an armed guard or a nude slave, they quickly dropped to their knees as she passed, showing their absolute faith and submission.<br><br><em>Today is an excellent day,</em> she mused to herself as she strode along confidently with a hand on her hip. Just who was this man that captivated her interest? She couldn't wait to explore his body, to see how his will bend in her hands. He hoped he would writhe like a snake before becoming like putty. Many men boasted their strength and resolve, only to break like glass when the lash fell upon him. <br><br>Before her loomed the tall double doors that gave entrance to the rear of the throne room behind the silk curtains that hung passed her throne of gold. Two guards opened for her so that she passed unhindered. She swept the curtains away, lavishing the cool caresses as they whispered by and laid eyes on him.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Craz</strong> on <strong>06-09-2009, 03:58:49</strong>
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				He was a commoner, one who had been born like many others into humble homes. He was not the Queen, but rather the son of poor parents. His father had been a fisher, though that had not been his desire. He had wanted to see what lay beyond his village, and that had caused him to join the armies of his nation.<br><br>He had fought against foreigners, those who would have sought to take their lands, and then against rebels who worked to supplant the throne. He had been undecorated, but had fought loyally for whichever ruler was in power at the time. He had taken a small pension, and ironically he had moved to the capitol, where he had taken up his father's profession. He fished along the Nile, using his family's tricks of the trade.<br><br>It had been when the Queen, the Goddess that was Cleopatra, had passed by him on the street that this trouble had begun. He had felt blessed by her presence, and had gladly bowed before her. After that, he had thought nothing of it. How wrong was he.<br><br>The soldiers had come during the night. He had tried to fight them off as they broke into his house, rousing him from his bed. Even nude and unarmed, he had managed to deal crippling blows to a pair of soldiers before he was subdued. They had dragged him away while he was unconscious, he supposed, as the next thing he knew he was in the palace.<br><br>He only knew this because there was gold everywhere. Only the Queen could live in such luxury. He considered what this meant. What did the Queen want with him? It was an insane thought that she had even acknowledged his existence, and it made him swell with pride-and fill with fear.<br><br>He fought as several soldiers bound him on the floor, tying him at the wrists and at his ankles. They were secure, and he could see no way out of this. He was effectively helpless. They hoised him over their shoulders, took him through various rooms in the palace. He could only see bits and pieces, constantly being jostled by the soldiers. <br><br>He was deposited in a room that he did not notice at first. He rolled his body around, flexing to get a beter look. And he saw the throne. It could only be the Queen's throne. He was in her throne room. What could this all be?<br><br>He heard the throne room doors open, and he watched as the goddess-made-woman passed through the silks. "Majesty," He gasped, not thinking about what he was saying. He was utterly amazed by her presence. "I am honored to even look upon you."<br><br>He was a fine specimen of man, tall and muscled from head to toe. His body was a fine light tan, a sign of his northern origin. He bore only a small amount of scars, and a religious tattoo, one of a pair of wings, was on one shoulder. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NileGoddess</strong> on <strong>06-09-2009, 06:05:57</strong>
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				“Do not speak until spoken to,” she ordered, lowering herself onto the cushioned seat of her golden throne. The bare metal touching her back made goosebumps rise. The throne was an elegant craft, but only a figurehead of power and therefore quite uncomfortable to sit on, yet it commanded awe from all who glanced upon it.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He was just as handsome as he was when she saw him during a pass in the city. Upon the plush carpet before her throne, though, bound and nude, he looked just as helpless as a regular commoner. She had been right about his body; he was a laborer, and therefore built strong. His cock, already growing slightly stiff at the sight of her mostly nude body, sat impressively on the top of his thighs.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of course, she had many handsome men at her disposal, and men with far bigger girth and length. What was it about this man that held her interest so? She went through all the trouble to bring him before herself, yet it seemed just to inconvenience her. But no matter; she would ride his cock, and his lips would lavish her breasts, feet, and pussy to no end…once he was put in his place and stripped of his male will.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Cleopatra crossed her legs and drummed a hand incessantly on the arm of her throne, already displeased with his lack of respect. Had he not bowed to her like all of her subjects? Why was his first intention after being bound nude before her to gape like a fool? “I did not give you leave to lay eyes upon me. Now, you will bow your head and tell me your name.”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Craz</strong> on <strong>09-09-2009, 21:48:19</strong>
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				He was instantly cowed by her voice. Now that she spoke, the ultimate power her voice held washed over him. He bowed his head to her without even a second thought, as if those words had comepelled his very muscles to move. He stared at the floor, listening to her voice. While beautiful, the voice had reminded him that this was no dream, and that he was her Queen and that he was ultimately something of hers, not even a person. He had heard what happened in the palace, but never took it in a serious manner.<br><br>He answered finally. "Arin, my Goddess," He stated. Not respect,but reverence, filled Arin's voice. He tried to shift his body, to hide his erection. He did not know how the goddess made material would react to it. Would she strike him down for the audacity of thinking of her as such?<br><br>He kept his face to the floor, unable to properly bow from his restraints. Instead, he simply asked. "How may I serve you, Majesty?" For he knew that he was here to serve, and to do nothing else. He was her subject from birth, and that meant servitude should she ask.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NileGoddess</strong> on <strong>12-09-2009, 04:30:10</strong>
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				"Arin...You will relinquish that title immediately."<br><br>A name had no place on a slave. To name an instrument of pleasure was both foolish and childish. Would one name a chair or a bed?<br><br>Slowly, Cleopatra pinched the nipple of her right breast, gently teasing it, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger until it was like stone. The tingle that spread forth from the stimulation spread like a wave down her back. She would like nothing more than to have his lips wrap around the nipple, and his mouth to slather the entirety of her breast. But such a service was a great pleasure, one not to be given to a fresh captive right away.<br><br>"You ask how you may serve?" she questioned lightly, continue to tease her nipple. "Amuse me. Come closer to my dais, to the foot of my throne. I desire to see you close."<br><br>Being bound at the ankles, crawling to the dais would be difficult and painful for him, though not impossible. A properly broken slave would gladly crawl through mud and shredded brick for a chance to lick her feet. Therefore, a short distance across marble and red carpet to grovel at her feet was of no contest.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Craz</strong> on <strong>15-09-2009, 09:18:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Keeping his head bowed to her, he barely looked up to nod. He had no name now, if that was what she wished. Cleopatra(even the name sent a sexual-and fearful-shiver down his spine) was the mistress of the wonders of Egypt, and he gratefully would kneel before her. <br><br>He saw her touch her breast and his body erupted with need, the desire to touch her, to just feel a portion of her perfection. Rumors from the palace said that a man to touch the Queen's breasts would lose himself, his soul, but be rewarded with the greatest of pleasure. And so he tried his hardest to move. <br><br>It was very difficult. The binds were tight on him, and only through exertion could he move his arms so he could pull himself forward. The process took quite some time, each movement taking an age in his head. And finally, he was able to claim that he had reached the foot of the throne. He kept his head bowed, as he did not wish to incur her wrath.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NileGoddess</strong> on <strong>18-09-2009, 06:41:43</strong>
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				&nbsp; &nbsp;Her new toy readily obeyed and crawled to the foot of her dais. It wasn’t as fast as she normally would have liked, but she could see the desperation in his movements. The slave was either frightened or already enthralled with her presence. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He appeared to be of a soldier’s birth, and had the marks to prove it. Pain would be a poor choice in leashing him. His cock was already stiff and hard. She would have no trouble in manipulating his arousal.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At such a distance, he was just close enough to touch. Cleopatra extended one long leg, hooking the tip of her foot beneath his chin and lifting his head.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Is that how a slave is supposed to present himself to his Goddess?” Cleopatra questioned. His posture was horrible, not fit for the pride of becoming her servant. “Back straight, legs spread upon kneeling. Expose your girth for my pleasure.”<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With her toe, she pushed him at the chin, forcing his head back down.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Captive to the Queen</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Craz</strong> on <strong>11-10-2009, 23:43:50</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He grunted, stifling a moan that bubbled within him. He wanted to rise, to tear free of his bonds, but he couldn't. He felt her foot rise his head. He couldn't believe he was looking on her. He saw her breasts. Sucking on them filled his mind. <br><br>She instructed him, and Cleopatra's slave responded willfully. His back straightened and immediately, and he shifted as well as he could. It was hard, what with his restraints, but he made two and spread his legs. His cock, now pulsing with sheer agony and desire, swung between his legs. <br><br>Arin-no that wasn't his name, anymore-felt his goddess push down at his chin. Oh, he didn't want to look away from her. He resisted, if only for a moment, before looking back down.
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