Lemuria

Chapter 9

Noblesse Oblige

Ephira, Rossmant Estate

It had been three days since the siege of Ephira reached its abrupt end. Marlow's creatures were all halted in place, idle save for the thrusting tentacles ceaselessly tormenting their moaning hosts. A few brave Ephirans had tried to assault the beasts, but word of the brutal retaliation visited upon those enterprising souls quickly led the rest of the city to leave the wretched things in relative peace. One could almost pretend they had left, were it not for their constant chorus of frustrated cries.

So repulsive. Lady Constance Rossmant, heiress to one of Ephira's most influential, wealthy, and esteemed families, had been spared from the horrors of the sorcerer's little power grab. His creations hadn't dared approach her estate walls, nor those of any of the city's other key figures, the so-called civilian council. I suppose even a cretin like Marlow knows that he will need the support of the REAL power in Lemuria to truly rule the nation.

"Begging your pardon, m'lady, but there is a summons for you." Gritting her teeth, Lady Rossmant turned to face the unwanted intrusion. Marina. Of course. She'd hired the stupid ginger beastkin as her maid in a show of solidarity after Princess Cleome had appointed her own mangy stray as a general. But the stupid cat failed to grasp even the most basic of lessons. "Knock first, Marina. Then, enter when called." The feline beastkin blushed slightly at the admonishment. "Apologies, m'lady. But the summons is from the princess, so I thought--"

"Leave the thinking to your betters. Now give me the letter and go do something useful. The east wing is still filthy after your last attempt to clean it. Do it again, and do it right this time." Constance hadn't actually been to the east wing in days, but it was important to keep the help on their toes. Waving off the useless maid's flustered apologies, she turned her icy blue eyes to the parchment Marina had delivered.

A smile slowly began to spread across her perfect, ruby-red lips as she took in the message. The civilian council was to attend a private ceremony to celebrate the defeat of the usurper Marlow and the coronation of the new Queen Anise. That can only mean no more Marlow, no more Queen Isabelle, and no more Princess Cleome! Surely that must be the case if sickly little Anise is taking the throne. Constance set off immediately, taking just a brief moment to ensure that each of the silky black hairs on her head was perfectly in place. Have to look properly presentable if I'm to meet our new monarch.

Ephiran Palace, Antechamber

Constance's coachman made the journey to the palace in an acceptable amount of time, although his noble passenger would have accepted a longer route if there had been one that avoided the newly detestable flesh-and-stone monolith. At least the confusing end to the hostilities had also brought an end to the debauchery at the site.

Some of the now-disarmed Ephiran army had set up a perimeter around the wretched thing, protecting it from further molestation. They had given up any attempts to free their comrades from its stony embrace after it ensnared and absorbed the initial would-be rescuers as well, but had found more success in at least keeping random horndogs away from it.

After that unpleasant sight, it was a relief to find herself among familiar, proper company. The civilian council was an informal group, and one that Queen Isabelle had always treated with a certain amount of wariness. Perhaps she had been intimidated by the collective wealth and power of the several dozen Ephiran nobles now gathered just outside the throne room doors.

Said doors opened slightly as one of Princess Anise's handmaidens (Vanny? Velvet? Something like that) slipped into the antechamber and addressed the assembled nobility.

"My sincere apologies for the delay. The princess wished for me to briefly speak to you before allowing you in her presence." Some murmurs spread throughout the group, but the servant waited patiently for them to subside before carrying on.

"Princess Anise was attacked by the traitor Marlow before his defeat, and was stricken with an...affliction. Should any of you comment on her appearance in any improper way, you will be escorted from the palace and your holdings will be seized by the crown." The murmurs turned to cries of outrage.

"HOWEVER," the servant had to shout over the din, "those of you who show her the proper respect stand to gain immensely from this meeting. Wealth, power, and...indulgences far beyond what you currently possess." As if someone had flicked a switch, the indignant exclamations came to an abrupt halt.

Verity, back in her human glamour, could practically taste the greed radiating off the rich assholes. Masking her disdain, she courteously opened the door behind her. "Please, esteemed guests, the princess awaits." The council members practically fell over each other in their attempt to be the first to charm their new queen-to-be. Avaricious and immoral, the lot of them. Exactly what we need.

A massive, circular table graced the centre of the throne room, with enough comfortable seats for the council plus two more. This sight quickly vanished from the council's attention, though, as their eyes snapped toward the throne and the nude, muscular, now-voluptuous Princess Anise sitting imperiously upon it. Her toned legs straddled a curious bulge protruding from the throne's seat, a vaguely spherical shape pressed against and covering her crotch.

A half-second passed before the nobles remembered the handmaiden's instructions and made a show of greeting their naked liege, bowing and curtsying with impeccable formality.

Anise, to her credit, didn't seem slighted by their brief impropriety and played the part of gracious host, greeting each councillor in turn. The facade only broke when, mid-conversation, the young royal's face twisted in pleasure as her hips bucked against the throne's strange addition. Then, the princess sighed contentedly.

"So sorry for the interruption. My throne hole is still learning her place and doesn't yet know not to make me cum when I'm talking." A fresh, stunned silence greeted her crude words. This in turn grew somehow more stunned and more silent as the princess stood with a wet popping noise, her slick, now-flaccid cock slipping messily out of the object.

Ignoring the silenced assembly, she continued on conversationally. "I grew tired of watching her pathetic, pleading eyes, so I had her fully hidden away. Well, save for her most useful part." She gestured permissively to the group and, after a brief pause, morbid curiosity set in. Surrounding the throne, the councillors could now see a circular hole set in the oval object, from which a delicate, drooling tongue dangled.

That's someone's head in there! Lady Rossmant was seldom shocked, but this certainly did the trick. Still, she was nothing if not adaptable. She needed to win the future queen's favor, and one way or another, she would.

"What excellent taste you have, your highness! I think we can all agree that there is nothing more disagreeable than a servant staring at their betters. I only wish I could do the same to my useless maids!"

Anise looked at the noblewoman appraisingly. "You know, I never liked you, Connie. But you do seem to have the right attitude. Hopefully the rest of the council is of similar mind?"

A round of affirmations greeted her query. "Good, then this meeting should be painless and beneficial to all. Well, to all of us in this room, anyways." And with that, she took a seat at the table and gestured for Lady Rossmant to take the spot at her left. The remainder of the council took their seats as well, each hoping for, but not receiving, an invitation to claim the spot at Anise's right hand.

Looking at the empty chair, the princess gave a mirthful giggle. "Oh, right, there is one more seat to fill." She snapped her fingers and a small door behind the throne, leading to the royal bedchamber, opened. A figure tottered into view on comically pointed heels, her presence preceded by the ringing of the bells dangling from her clothes, tits, and clit.

Many of the men in the group found themselves desperately thankful for the thick oak blocking any view of their now-strained trousers as the whorish jester that they quickly recognized as Princess Anise made her delicate, jingling approach. Between the slutty clown, the nude Anise, and the pheromones Verity had been surreptitiously releasing from the moment they entered the throne room, the council was, simply put, ready to blow.

Cleome's eyes, filled with fear and humiliation, flicked desperately toward her corrupted sister as her smiling voice rang out. "I'm Cleome, the new royal slut-jester! Taking dick and sucking clit is all I'm good for, and all I want, so I've surrendered my title to live out my dream!"

Anise broke into a wide smile as she saw some eyes dart expectantly toward the empty seat. "Oh, you thought the seat was meant for her? No, backstabbing clown whores don't get to sit in people seats anymore. Clee is here to provide relief while we discuss the future of Lemuria." The princess turned to the noblewoman at her left. "Connie, would you care to have my sister eat you out? I can guarantee she will give the task her all."

To Lady Rossmant's credit, only a slight reddening of her cheeks occurred as she graciously accepted the offer. Within seconds, Cleome had disappeared under the table and planted her face firmly among the raven-haired noble's petticoats, lapping and sucking with gusto as her bells rang out prettily.

"Once you have finished with Connie, please work your way clockwise around the table." A muffled assent rose from beneath as Constance reared back in pleasure, her body quaking as the princess's skilled ministrations rapidly brought her to a shrieking orgasm.

So distracted was the council by the sight and sound of the lewd display that they missed Verity casting aside her glamour before languidly slinking into the seat on Anise's right.

Once all widened eyes (save for the man to Constance's left, who was understandably focused more on Cleome deftly taking his cock in her mouth and lavishing her affections on it with gusto) were upon the succubus, the princess spoke with authority. "Let me introduce the newest member of Lemurian nobility. Lady Verity, the hero who killed the traitor Marlow. She now commands his former army, and possesses all of his power and magic, so I thought it prudent to grant her a formal title."

Again, the council stood silent (save for Cleome's current partner climaxing messily in her eager mouth), awaiting direction from Anise. "The time of conflict between the children of the Goddess and the Exile's creations must come to an end. And since the Exile improved upon human and elf when it created the first demons, they will be given status above most of the Goddess's children. Most," she continued, silencing objections before they arose, "save for those belonging to noble houses favoured by the royal family."

Verity leaned forward conspiratorially. "Basically, us demons get do do whatever we want to the common folk, but you and your households get a free pass. In fact, you can even join in on the fun. Enticing, no?"

"I think that arrangement sounds simply delightful." Lady Rossmant had regained her composure and was already considering the best way to secure any more advantages.

"If I might make a suggestion: such a paradigm shift would be more...palatable for the common folk if additional demons were granted formal titles and holdings. That way, the mouth-breathing masses would instinctively recognize their betters. I'm sure the council would be able to supply a list of...troublesome noble houses that could be stripped of titles and assets which could be turned over to our new demonic counterparts."

Verity had to stifle a laugh. Give them a hint of power and they throw their own to the wolves for any bit more. Anise smiled graciously at the greedy noblewoman. "What a lovely idea. And exactly the sort of open-minded, forward-thinking attitude I was hoping to see from my new council."

And with that, the discussions of how best to dismantle and reassemble Lemuria to fit Anise and Verity's twisted vision began in earnest. Expansion of the monolith, spreading the "rot" to cover all of Lemuria's territory (in the name of security, of course), and an expansion of Marlow's elf fluid production were all brought forward, discussed, and approved.

Cleome continued her lewd circuit as the evening approached. While the council took their supper at the table, still hard at work, Verity was struck with inspiration. Cleome was doing her best, but it was simply unfair to make each councillor wait so long between the fuck-jester's visits to their eager loins. The succubus strode sensually away, returning minutes later from the kennels. She had a cum-stained Kaya, or, rather, Clittycat, at the end of a leash.

Lord Salvatore, an accomplished mage and banker, drew polite applause as he cast a cleansing spell, scouring the accumulated filth from the wretched beastkin and leaving her bitchsuit positively gleaming in the light. As a reward, when Anise ordered the once-proud former general to join her former lover in her humiliating task, she had the cat start with the rotund nobleman who had restored her appearance to an acceptable state.

The council shared a laugh at the speed and enthusiasm with which the bound feline obeyed, unaware that Verity had informed her that anything but her absolute best efforts would see Cleome thrown to Vraka and his pack.

The meeting dragged on well into the night, but the enthusiasm remained high, helped on by the whorish pair. As Clittycat busied herself lapping away at Lady Rossmant's dripping cunt for the umpteenth time, the noblewoman's eyes alit with sinister inspiration.

"My dearest princess, I think I speak for us all when I say that the method by which you and Lady Verity have punished this treasonous beastkin is truly inspired." Anise accepted the praise graciously (Verity was too busy to speak, leaning over with her head bobbing up and down on the princess's rigid member. The succubus needed her supper, too). Marlow is dead. No harm in taking the credit for his actions.

Constance carried on. "In fact, her predicament reminds me of the origin of her kind. As you said, demons were improvements on humans and elves. But beastkin? Merely ascended creatures, still far below any REAL people in stature. They also seem wholly untrustworthy. After all, Clittycat here abandoned her post and tried to flee the country, did she not?"

The noblewoman briefly paused her pitch as she reached yet another orgasm, her fluids splashing across Kaya's face. Taking a moment to compose herself, she reached the crux of her plan, a fiendish glint in her eyes. "In light of all this, and to ensure a healthy order in the new world, I think that ALL beastkin should share her fate. Well, aside from your loyal hounds, that is." Wait'll that stupid bitch Marina sees her new uniform.

With a wet gulping sound, a grinning Verity reemerged from her partner's crotch. "Now that is a FANTASTIC idea."

Anise had to agree, already finding herself stiffening anew at the thought of thousands of restrained beastkin pets, waddling throughout Lemuria in their restrictive bitch suits, reduced to mere playthings. Clee had long fought for beastkin equality. One more way to punish the backstabbing bitch.

The enthusiasm of the meeting took on a fever pitch as the greed- and lust-driven council began pitching all manner of ideas, from breeding programs to "exotic pet" exports. Anise's hips jerked as the alluring prospects caused her to climax, messily ejaculating her seed across the table top. At this point, no one in the assembly cared anymore. They had completely adapted to Lemuria's new, depraved status quo.

Beneath the wooden barrier, both Cleome and Clittycat wept as they carried on their grim task. The former Scout General cried for her people, while the former princess despaired at the death of her dream of a Lemuria in which all were equal.

The light of a fresh dawn had begun to seep into the throne room when the meeting finally reached its conclusion. The coronation itself was a quiet affair. Anise returned to the throne, cock now back in Isabelle's warm embrace. A smiling Cleome stood at her right side, gently using both hands to masturbate, with a wide grin frozen on her face. Clittycat sat hopelessly in the corner, the end of her leash looped over a sconce enough to keep her in place.

The council watched in silence as a reverent Verity gingerly placed the Lemurian crown upon her lover's head. Then, after a passionate kiss, she turned and announced that the reign of Queen Anise had begun.

Still enthusiastically frigging herself, a widely smiling Cleome took in the tableau. The miserable Kaya. The smug, manipulative Verity. The crude pleasure tool that had once been her mother. The self-absorbed council that had gleefully sold out their nation. And the new queen, now pumping her dick in and out of her throne's fuckhole with a look of pure bliss on her face. A single tear ran down Cleome's face as she brought herself to a spurting climax.

End of Chapter 9