The Tournament (11 page)

He buried himself to the hilt in a single, frictionless thrust.
 

Ruby came.

"Moan for me," said the King, fucking her hard. "Show me how much you love my cock."
 

Ruby panted and writhed. All the sensations she remembered from the first time he'd fucked her rushed back, even more overwhelming than before. She couldn't speak, couldn't reply. His cock, and the intense pleasure it gave her, had robbed her of the power of speech.

"I love how hard you squeeze me when you come," said the King, pushing her flat against the ground. "Tighter than a fist."
 

Ruby shuddered and cried out, lifting her ass to meet his thrusts.
 

He rolled her onto her back and entered her again, tonguing her dirt-smeared breasts. "The more I fuck you, the more I want you," he said, throwing her legs over his shoulders. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into her. "I can't get enough."
 

He fucked her until the sun rose directly overhead, blindingly bright. Ruby wanted to beg the King to come, to coax and tease him. She had taken all she could bear, and more besides. But the words wouldn't come. She wept again, from the strain this time, and the King wiped away her tears with his thumb and kept on fucking her.
 

At last he spilled his seed into the sheath. "Our secret," he reminded her, tying a knot in the empty tube. "You can't tell anyone."
 

That evening, when the doctor came to her tent and tossed his robe on the floor, Ruby slid from the bed and dropped to her knees at his feet. "Fuck my mouth," she begged. "Gag me on your cock, and choke me on your cum when I faint."
 

The doctor hesitated. "That's what you want?"
 

Ruby grabbed hold of his cock, pumped it in her hand. "Force it down my throat," she ordered, feeling the magic rise up from her cunt. "And don't stop until you're done."
 

He made a rope of her long red hair and wound it around his hand. "Very well." He pulled on her hair to tilt her head at just the right angle. Ruby opened her mouth. He sent a spear of hot magic into her cunt as he pushed past her lips.

Ruby whimpered, too sore to tolerate any contact there.

The doctor paused.
 

"You're tender," he said.
 

Ruby closed her eyes. The magic would pull him. He'd have to obey her command, whether he wanted to or not, and then he'd forget about asking questions.
 

"I'm done," said the doctor, letting go of her hair. He freed his cock and stepped away.
 

"No," said Ruby. "Please."
 

"You weren't on Trial, but you've been fucked raw." The doctor cupped her cheek. "Are you all right?"
 

"I told you what I want," said Ruby.
 

"You did," he agreed with a sigh. He took her hand and wrapped it around his cock, stiff and wet with her saliva. "Tell me what to do again."
 

"Fuck my mouth," said Ruby, startled by the force of her own need. Her hand felt hot where she'd grabbed him. "Fuck my mouth until you come, and send your seed down my throat."
 

"I'm going to fuck you mouth," said the doctor, immediately. His cock got bigger, harder. "Your hot red mouth, just like I've imagined doing."
 

He grabbed her head and shoved his whole length down her throat. Ruby moaned and tried to relax, but he didn't wait for her to be ready. He firmed his grip and fucked her, even when she gagged and slapped at his hips. "You thought I wouldn't like it?" he taunted. "I love it."

He came quickly and gagged her with his cum, just like she'd asked. Then he took her into his arms and thumped her back while she choked and cried.
 

"Talk to me, Ruby." He cradled her in his lap. "Why did you make me do that?"
 

Ruby sobbed. "I don't know."
 

"Do you need me to treat you?"
 

"No," said Ruby.

But he sent for a jar of blessed ointment anyhow, and rubbed it into her aching cunt before tucking her into bed.
 

"You need to rest," he said. "I will make sure you're not summoned to your next Trial for a few days. You're not ready."
 

"I'm going to fail," said Ruby, her voice ragged. "I'm not strong enough."
 

"Don't think about that now." The doctor touched her throat with warm, tingling fingers. "Try not to talk for a while."

Ruby took hold of the doctor's hand and squeezed it.
 

Ruby felt better the next morning, but she took the doctor's advice. She rested all that day, and the one after. The doctor examined her and pronounced her health excellent, but when she caressed him he gently removed her hand.

"You'll face your Sixth Trial soon," he said. "I don't want to distract you from your preparations."

"I understand," said Ruby, slinking out of the tent.

He didn't want her anymore.
 

He'd seen her at her worst, weak and pathetic, and that had killed his desire for her. Their intimacy had been too tenuous to survive a crisis.
 

Perhaps, in the end, she simply had not been worthy of him. He was so fine.
 

Ruby sat by the pool and counted her beads, touching each one. Amethyst, pearl, jade, opal, aquamarine. When she felt calm, she shrugged out of her robe and stood naked in the open air. She loved this place, the bright silk tents under a clear blue sky, the fragrant air and perfect calm. She would stay forever, if she could.
 

But she couldn't. Nobody could. The Tents had closed, and soon the Tournament would end.

Ruby dived into the water, parting it cleanly. The Sixth Trial might be her last, but she knew her power now. In the Pavilion, in the Palace, in the street, it didn't matter. She could bring a man to his knees with desire, and make him thank her for doing it.
 

And she would.
 

"After every council meeting, the ministers adjourn here," said the Steward. "After they battle, they must make peace. Not all divisions can be bridged, not all enmities put to rest, but the King believes that what reparations can be made begin here."
 

Ruby nodded. For the first time, she'd been summoned to Trial alone.
 

"The mood among the ministers is not always predictable. I sit on the council, and even in peacetime we are not rowdy or blithe. Consider each man you meet, and how you might best serve him, the King, or the country by your presence." The Steward gripped the door and turned the knob, but didn't open it. "Will you undertake this service?"
 

"Willingly," said Ruby.
 

They entered a large room, full of luxurious furniture worn by age and use. It was comfortable, as rooms in the Palace tended not to be, and warm, lit by several fires.

"Have you brought us an aspirant, Steward?" asked a broad-faced, sharp-eyed minister. He patted the empty chair to his right. "Come, sit by me. Not many make it so far."
 

"I apologize, but I do not know you," said Ruby, curling into the chair.

"My specialty is war," said the minister. "And everybody is sick and tired of me. Isn't that right, old friend?"
 

The Steward smiled. "You've earned your leisure. May it last long."

"Soldiers earned it for me. But I'll take the credit." War kicked out his feet and folded his hands over his belly, only a little plump. He winked at Ruby, and the Steward turned to greet someone else. "Tell me about the Tournament. I spent many fine hours in the tents, when I was a young man."

"Before my First Trial, I thought only of beads." Ruby held out her wrist and shook her bracelet, so the beads clicked together. "I thought it would be a fine thing to walk down the street with two beads on my wrist, or three, but I never thought about how I'd get them. Now I understand why the Steward will only call our Trials a service. I feel good about what I've done here."
 

War narrowed his eyes at her. "Very prettily phrased."
 

Ruby smiled and caressed her breasts through her robe. "Put me through my paces," she invited, outlining her budded nipples. "I can bring back the tents for you, if that's what you want."

"Empty cunt, no." But War leaned closer and cupped one breast in his hand, his eyelids drooping as he hefted the weight of it. "Lovely," he murmured. He stroked his meaty palm along her side and hip, his gaze drifting to the apex of her thighs. "I know what you can do for me," he said. "But what can I do for you?"
 

Ruby tilted her head to one side. "What can you tell me about dragons?"
 

 
"Careful," said War. "Now I know who you are."

"Yes," Ruby agreed. "But I am not ashamed."

"The dragons live in the mountains of Morrow, and they are fearsome creatures. Even a small band of dragons could lay waste to our armies, and they know it. We have a peace treaty, but it is very much in their favor."

"Ah," said Ruby.

"The dragons need humans to breed. The Treaty allows them to take any woman who consents to mate with them, though such encounters have always proven fatal." War raised his eyebrows at her. "Until the doctor saved you."

"I am lucky to be alive," Ruby said.

"Do not speak of luck," said War. "Zov was sent to us as their ambassador. He has lived among us for years, and we should have suspected that, once he learned our laws, he would pervert them to his own purposes. We failed, and the cost may be great. How can we hold a Tournament when the dragons wait to prey on our aspirants? You may be one of the last women to ever endure the Tents, or enjoy the Pavilion."
 

"Thank you," said Ruby. "Now I understand what happened, and I am grateful. Will you ask something of me?"
 

War opened his legs wide, and she knelt between them. His cock was thick, a little stubby, in a nest of half-gray hair. Ruby wetted it with slow licks before taking it in her mouth. She sucked and squeezed until her jaws ached and her hands began to cramp. Finally the minister began to pump his hips as she sucked, to wheeze as he approached his crisis, but before he could come, he grabbed her hair and pulled her free.

"Not so fast," said War. "It's been a long time since I had such a fine pair of lips wrapped around my cock. I want to make it last."

Ruby caught her breath. When War's cock began to bend and soften, she took it in her mouth again. Ruby sucked and sucked and…sucked. Until she was deeply bored, with a headache from bobbing her head up and down for so long. He stopped her two more times before finally letting her swallow two thick gouts of semen.

"Empty cunt," murmured War, sagging against the back of his armchair. "I'll fall asleep right in this chair if I don't get to bed right now."

"I'll find someone who can help you home," said Ruby, fastening his leather breeches and straightening his tunic. "Just wait here."

"Thank you," said War. "You're a damn fine cocksucker."
 

Ruby fetched a footman to help War to his feet and see him home. As he left, another minister beckoned to Ruby.

The new minister sat with the Steward, their armchairs angled for ease of conversation. He was slim and bald, with bony, dextrous hands. "The Steward tells me you have a hot cunt," he said.

"The Steward has a kind and generous spirit," said Ruby, blushing as she met the Steward's eyes.
 

"Indeed," the bald minister agreed. "And he deserves to be rewarded. He has spent months in the Pavilion, watching one man after another take a turn at women he never touches. Let him taste what he has denied himself."

 
"You are so thoughtful," Ruby observed. "Are you his friend?"
 

"I am the Treasurer," said the bald minister. "I count out the coins that the Steward orders spent."
 

"I see," said Ruby. The Treasurer was not the Steward's friend, and he saw no profit in lying about it.
 

Ruby clasped the Steward's hand between both of her own. "My body is yours to enjoy or command," she said to him, utterly sincere. "It would be my great honor to perform any service you may ask of me."
 

"Sweet girl," said the Steward, leaning close and kissing her forehead. "Thank you, but I cannot."
 

Ruby glided to the Treasurer's side. She lay her head in his lap and caressed his thigh. "Tell me what you wish for him," said Ruby, "and I will demonstrate on you."

The Treasurer caressed her hair, but he didn't reply.

"You may as well," said the Steward. "You might not have another chance."
 

"My wife would be furious," said the Treasurer, lifting Ruby to her feet.

"As would mine," said the Steward, a twinkle in his eyes. He smiled at Ruby.

She smiled back and drifted on. By the end of the evening, she could match every member of the council to his function, and had exchanged at least a few words with each, but only one other made use of her body—the Dean of Morrow's university, who wrapped his arm around her waist at the end of the evening and pulled her into the hallway. He planted her palms against the stone wall and lifted her skirt.
 

"After looking at you all night, I can't help myself," he said, pulling her asscheeks apart. "That red hair, that mouth." He fucked her with firm, short strokes, very controlled. "Good cunt," he grunted, reaching around so he could work her clit while he penetrated her. "Will you come?"

"Yes," said Ruby.
 

Soon he said, "I'm close. Tell me when you're ready."
 

"Almost." Ruby tilted her hips, to ease his way as he thrust. "Not yet."

"You're so tight." The Dean groaned and worked her clit faster. "I don't know how long I can keep this up."