A/N: Thank you so much to all those who gave this a chance. Thanks to those who hit the follow/favourite button. And thank you to those who took the time to review and chat with me about this. I appreciate you all! Okay, this picks up at The Feast. Enjoy!
Attendants come and clear the table of food, but drink is still flowing in abundance. Courtiers do as Lord John requests and step away from the table. They fill the sofas, or stand near the walls where the Tributes are waiting. His Lordship and Her Ladyship remain seated.
He gestures for a servant to step forward with a small bell set on a silver tray. Lord John takes it and rings it. Immediately, two young women enter the room, hand-in-hand. Each wearing sheer negligees with nothing underneath.
A male Attendant helps them up onto the table. They nod their heads in the direction of the Lord and Lady, before slowly undressing one another. When they are completely naked, they offer the Courtiers coy smiles, and then lower themselves to the table top.
One woman lies on her back and spreads her eager thighs apart, displaying a neatly shaven sex. The other woman kneels between her legs, parting them further with dainty hands. She dips her head and licks her pink tongue over her companion's slit before sucking her clitoris into her mouth. The guests watch as the kneeling woman spreads the other woman's folds apart and stiffens her tongue, prodding it in and out of her opening. Her attentions elicit pleasured moans as the woman on her back pinches her own nipples.
"Open your legs," says Lord John to the kneeling woman, and she does so immediately, giving him and his Lady a perfect view of her ass and pussy.
"Now touch yourself," says Lady Michonne, and the woman obliges by rubbing her engorged lips and then slipping a keen finger between them.
Several Courtiers begin to pleasure themselves and each other, desperate to find some release for their arousal. The room smells of sex.
Pleased, Her Ladyship smiles before her eyes find Rick. While every other person in the room is watching the sensual display in front of them, Rick is watching Michonne. His eyes drink her in, even though he could easily be reprimanded for ogling her so blatantly. His erection begins to return, and it is not from the loud moans, or the sight of one woman sucking and licking another's pussy; it is not from the sight of Courtiers now undressing one another. It is from the hungry look in Her Ladyship's eyes.
She stares at Rick as she reaches a hand over to His Lordship's crotch. Deft hands find John's bulge. She rubs him through his trousers, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on Rick. He swallows hard, wishing it was his cock she was rubbing. Wishing he was sitting in His Lordship's place.
She sips from her wine glass, eyes still locked onto Rick's, as John frees his erection from his pants. Taking it into her hands, she strokes his length. Her gaze falls to Rick's cock. He grows stiffer knowing she is taking him in. It's as if no one else is in the room; as if there isn't an orgy beginning. As if this woman he wantonly desires is not causing the Lord of the Citadel to quiver under her touch.
Rick so desperately wants to stroke himself, but he dare not touch his rigid manhood. He does not have Her permission to do so. Instead, he watches as the powerful, commanding woman brings their Lord to orgasm before gesturing for an attendant to bring her a wet towel to clean her hand.
She finishes her wine and then stands; Lord John tucks himself back into his pants and continues to watch the show. Keeping her eyes on Rick, Lady Michonne approaches him slowly. He feels his mouth begin to salivate as she draws nearer. He brazenly holds her gaze.
When she is standing in front of him, she looks him up and down before saying, "You dare to stare at me, Tribute?"
Right away, Rick looks to the floor as he dips his head out of respect.
"I'm sorry, My Lady," he replies.
"I didn't say you could speak," she retorts, even though his drawl causes her sex to pulse.
He remains silent.
"I bet you liked how I made our Lord come," she teases. "I bet you wish it was your nice cock in my hand."
Rick swallows hard. His dick trembles at her words. She smiles at him before leaning close to his ear. She smells of jasmine. He wishes she would touch him, but she does not. Instead, she whispers to him.
"You should touch yourself later," she instructs. "When you're alone in your quarters."
Her breath is warm on his skin. He closes his eyes.
"You should think of me while you do it," she adds before stepping backwards and then walking away.
Rick opens his eyes and watches the sway of her hips as she returns to her seat at the table. The aching in his loins grows stronger as he silently hopes the night concludes soon so that he might picture her beautiful face while he fucks himself.
...
The morning is still dark outside when Rick and the other Tributes are roused from their slumber. The orgy went long into the night. Lady Michonne retired early, untouched by her liege, and allowed Rick to as well. He was thankful to return on his own so he could relieve his arousal. He did not sleep well, and now, in the daylight, was happy to be clothed once more.
The new day starts with breakfast in an outdoors dining area reserved for Attendants, Tributes, and servants. Long tables are placed in close proximity and lined with benches. A roof made of thatch covers the area. Sentries stand off to the side, but do not stop those eating from speaking to one another. Rick finds Maggie and takes up a seat beside her. She appears tired.
"How'd you sleep?" he asks.
"I didn't," she responds. "You?"
"Same," he answers. "What time did y'all get back from the Feast?"
"Not sure," she says. "It was well after midnight. My feet hurt from standin' up. I didn't realize there'd be so much standin'. Will every night be like that?"
"Not likely," Rick offers.
"I hope you're right."
"Are you okay?" he queries with genuine concern, and watches as her eyes grow watery.
Maggie shakes her head and says, "Not really."
"Hey. It gets easier."
She offers him a gentle smile and says, "That's easy for you to say; Her Ladyship has taken a likin' to you."
"That probably ain't a good thing," he responds. "I reckon she's a lot more dangerous than His Lordship."
The pair share a laugh when an apparently clumsy young man pushes behind them and nudges Maggie forward quite roughly.
"Hey, asshole," she snaps. "Wanna watch where you're goin'?"
"Screw you," he says and keeps walking. Immediately, Rick gets to his feet and follows behind him. He places a hand to his shoulder, causing him to turn.
"You owe the lady an apology, dipshit," says Rick.
The young man swats his hand away and says, "I'm not apologizing to some low-born, Southern bitch. Screw her, and screw you, too."
Without a second thought, Rick balls his fist and then punches the disrespectful man in the jaw. He lands on the ground, dropping his food as he falls. Before the guards can get hold of Rick, Maggie is pushing him out of the way so she can kick the offender in the stomach over and over again.
...
The small room is sparsely lit. A large mahogany desk sits in front of a matching leather chair. A portrait of Lady Michonne hangs on the wall behind it.
Rick and Maggie stand waiting with their hands bound at their backs. Two guards hold their posts at the door. After a moment, His Lordship enters. He sits, and then looks to his sentries. He appears hungover.
"What happened?" he asks. "Don't tell me these two were caught fucking."
"No, My Lord," one guard offers. "They attacked another Tribute at breakfast. A healthy looking boy."
John glares at Rick and Maggie, before sighing loudly.
"Was he hurt badly?"
"Broken jaw, My Lord."
John clenches his own jaw and narrows his eyes at the pair.
"Why, might I ask, did you two think it was perfectly fine for you to attack one of my Tributes? To damage my property?"
Neither attempt to speak.
"Answer me," he booms, while hitting his fist on the desktop.
"Let me offer apologies, Your Lordship," Rick says quickly. "He was disrespectful to her. I couldn't let it go unpunished."
"And who gave you the right to dole out punishments, commoner?"
"No one, Your Lordship."
"Exactly," John replies. "No one gave you the right to punish my Tributes. If someone causes you offense, you do nothing. If they cause you harm, you report to my guards. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," says Rick. "My apologies."
"Now you, young lady, what part in this attack did you play?"
"I kicked him, My Lord."
"While he was down?" John asks.
"Yes, Sir."
He sighs audibly and shakes his head. Just then, Lady Michonne enters the room and eyes the Tributes curiously. She is dressed much more casually than she was the night before. Her evening gown swapped for pants and a tank top.
"John," she starts as she stands next to him. "What's going on? Were these two caught fraternizing?"
"No, My Love," Lord John replies. "They attacked a fellow Tribute because he caused the young lady offense."
Michonne looks at the woman in question.
"What's your name?" she asks.
"Maggie, My Lady."
"Maggie, did the young man harm you? Was he inappropriate? Did he touch you?"
"No, Ma'am. He cussed at me."
"What did you do?"
"I kicked him in the gut while he was on the ground, My Lady."
Michonne holds back an amused grin. She turns her attention to Rick.
"And you," she says. "You attacked him because?"
"He was disrespectful, My Lady," Rick explains.
"I don't like disrespectful little shits either, but you can't go around attacking His Lordship's property. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Rick replies quickly. "I'm sorry."
"You will be if you persist with this behavior," Lord John interjects.
"Your plans for them, My Lord?" Michonne asks.
"I had thought to throw them in the stocks for the day," he answers. "But they can spend the rest of the morning mucking out the horse stables, they will receive no lunch, and are hereby relegated to the Pugilists' Quarters."
"Maggie as well?"
"Yes, My Love," says John. "If she insists on fighting her fellow Tributes, she can do it for our pleasure. Do you both understand that this means you are now combatants and will serve us in the Arena?"
"Yes, Sir," they each reply.
"You are only allowed to fuck or fight if we tell you to," he says. "You would do well to remember that. Guards, get them out of my sight."
Michonne watches as they are led away, and can't help but wonder if there is something going on between them. She feels a pang of jealousy rise up inside of her, but soon shakes such a silly notion from her mind.
She sits on the desktop and looks down at John.
"You look terrible," she says. "You should go back to bed."
He places a hand to her thigh and caresses it.
"Only if you come with me," he says.
Michonne covers his hand with hers, but then shifts it. She stands and moves away from him, before saying, "Sorry, I've got training to do."
Lord John eyes his beautiful consort and fails to hide his disappointment.
"You wound me, My Love."
"Then let me leave you," she says, half jokingly.
"Never," he replies.
...
The sun beats down on Rick and Maggie as they trudge over to the training grounds. The grounds are situated in a field at the back of the property near a small barn. Several men are there. They are hitting punching bags and sparring with wooden swords and bare hands.
A man named Morgan greets them and introduces himself. He is the trainer. He explains the rules that they must follow, and what is expected of them. They are informed that a tourney will mark Lord John's fast-approaching birthday, and all fighters are in training to compete against one another.
"You can use any of the training weapons," says Morgan. "But you have to stay in the designated area."
He gestures to the wooden fence, before pointing to a separate area outside of the barrier near a large rainwater tank.
"That's where Her Ladyship trains," he says. "You're not allowed to go over there unless you need to drink. Don't do anything to distract her when she's training the youngsters. Don't even look at her. Now, get to work."
With that, he walks away leaving the pair standing there.
"Maggie," Rick starts. "I think you're the only woman here."
"I think you're right," she agrees as they walk towards the weapons. "But I'd rather be out here than on my back in the Citadel."
...
Beads of sweat roll down Rick's face as he pummels the punching bag. He no longer feels the discomfort in his knuckles from earlier. He is running on adrenaline. His stomach growls from emptiness. He vaguely thinks that sleep will not evade him this night.
Taking a break, Rick wanders over to get some water to drink from the tank. He brings the communal cup to his lips and swallows the liquid quickly. He fills it once more, and then pours it over his head to stave off the heat of the day. Just then, something grabs his attention: It is Lady Michonne heading towards her personal training area with several young people in tow.
She has a sword strapped to her back, and is holding the hands of two children. The children let go of her and race toward the fenced off area. Rick watches her. He is mesmerized by her. He recalls seeing her many years ago; she has changed little. If she notices him, she does not let it show.
She waits for the youngsters to choose their wooden swords, and then takes her spot in front of them. They line up neatly and wait for her to speak.
"Practice the parrying moves with a partner," she orders. "Missy, you're with me."
A teenager steps up to Michonne with a sword of her own, and the pair of them move away from the group.
Rick watches as they use their very real, very sharp swords to begin their training. He watches Michonne slice the air with her sword; he watches her stop and offer advice to her students. She is focused and determined. He eyes her glistening skin and shapely form.
He does not know how long he has been standing there for, when he is suddenly knocked to his knees by a swift kick from behind.
"You fuckin' asshole," says the random sentry. "How dare you watch Her Ladyship. You're not meant to be hanging around here. I'll teach you a lesson."
The guard then kicks Rick in the back, causing him to fall on his front, before reaching for a riding crop. He lifts it above his head and readies himself to swing it when a voice calls out.
"Stop!"
Both Rick and the guard look up to see Lady Michonne approaching.
"What's going on here?" she asks.
"My Lady, this man was looking at you. He was watching you train when he should be training himself," he stammers. "I was merely going to lash him a few times to remind him of his place."
"You'll do no such thing," she commands. "He is mine. Not one hair on his head will be harmed, do you understand me?"
"But..."
"Not another word!" she says. "Hand me that crop, now."
The guard does as he is told.
"Leave," she orders, and he does.
"My Lady, thank you," Rick offers.
"Get up," Michonne says, and he gets to his feet.
Her stern demeanor changes to something flirtatious.
"You're trouble, aren't you?" she asks while stepping closer to Rick. She is as beautiful as he remembers out under the blazing sun. If she recognizes him, she does not let it show. She runs her hand up and down the riding crop and stares him in the eye.
"You like watching me?"
His gaze falls to her heart shaped lips. She takes the crop and trails the leather along the side of his face.
"Answer me."
"Yes, My Lady," says Rick. "I like watching you."
"Good," she says, before brushing a stray curl away from his face. "I like it when you watch me."
Lady Michonne backs away from Rick and then turns her back on him before calling out, "Get back to your training."
...
The water is a welcome relief. Rick washes away the filth of the day. The Pugilists' Quarters are away from the Stables underneath the Citadel. They're less crowded and gift occupants with much more privacy. Though Tributes who are combatants require more rigorous training than those who are at the erotic beck and call of their Overlords, both situations are physically demanding.
After washing up, Rick puts his clothing back on, and goes to find Maggie so that they might eat dinner together. He feels a sense of fraternal responsibility for the young woman. She had saved his life, after all. He owes more of a debt to her than he does to their Lord.
As he reaches the dining area, a guard promptly approaches. Rick stops, wondering if he will be on the receiving end of some
form of smug harassment. He waits with his hands at his side while staring the guard down. There is still this defiance inside of him that has been hard to control.
"You're required in the Citadel," says the sentry. He taps the baton hanging from his belt with one hand, while gesturing for Rick to walk with his other.
Rick clenches his jaw, but moves along. When they reach the back entrance, the guard gets him to halt. He then fixes a dark, soft blindfold to the unsuspecting Tribute's eyes before clasping his cuffs together at the back. Stumbling slightly, Rick steps through the doorway and is led into the kitchen and up the stairs.
He has no idea what is happening, or why he has been summoned. He muses that Lord John may have changed his mind about how Rick would be serving him.
Without too much time to ponder his fate, Rick is finally taken to a room. He is led inside and forced to kneel. His blindfold remains in place; his wrists remain bound. Rick steadies his breathing as he hears the guard's footfalls retreat, and the door close.
He does not move, but is keenly aware of his other senses. He can smell the scent of candles burning. It is mingled with the aroma of jasmine. He dare not let his excitement show, but he hopes Her Ladyship is near.
The wooden floorboards creak a little as someone draws closer to Rick. Their footwear taps loudly and he remains perfectly still. Fingers thread through his hair before his blindfold is removed.
It takes him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light in the room, but he knows it is Lady Michonne standing in front of him. She is dressed in a short satin robe that is red in color with lacy sleeves. Her hair is pulled back from her face; black stiletto heels adorn her feet.
She smiles down at Rick. His eyes take her in as he feels his arousal growing.
"These are my personal chambers," she says. "No one will interrupt us here."
The walls are a deep red that make the black furnishings stand out. There are framed mirrors and beautiful ornaments that give it a look of luxury. Heavy drapes cover the windows, and section off the room. It seems they are in Her Ladyship's sitting room, though, the only thing one can sit on is a large black throne. It is, of course, reserved for the Lady of the Citadel.
Rick watches her ass as she saunters over to her throne. A sheer patch of lace at the back of her robe shows she is not wearing panties. He feels his cock quiver. She sits, smiles at him, and crosses her legs.
"Not many people are allowed here," she says. "You should thank me."
"Thank you, My Lady," he offers sincerely.
"I realize you didn't answer my question from earlier today," she states.
"Forgive me, My Lady," he replies quickly, finding this urge to please her so absolutely overwhelming.
"What did I ask you again? Oh, yes, I asked if you were trouble," she teases. "Are you trouble?"
She uncrosses her legs and Rick uses every bit of his willpower not to lower his eyes and gaze at the sweetness between her thighs. She has not given him permission; he will do what he must to keep their exchange going.
"I'm whatever you want me to be, My Lady," he replies, causing her to bless him with the brightest smile he has ever seen.
Michonne eyes Rick, and says, "Good. That pleases me."
She holds his gaze and then shifts so that her legs are parted more. His eyes do not move, even when she brings her hand to her sex and runs her fingers over her slit.
"I know you like watching me," she says. "So go ahead and look."
"Thank you, My Lady," he says in a strained voice, as his eyes find the glistening delta between her strong thighs.
Her Ladyship parts her swollen lips to reveal soft pinkness framed by her gorgeously dark skin. Rick's mouth begins to water as his cock is set hard at the tantalizing sight. She massages her hooded bud until it is coaxed from it hiding place. Then she dips two fingers inside of her delectable sex.
Rick feels his cock shudder as he watches Michonne's slender fingers disappear between her juicy folds. His hardness strains against his pants. It aches. He cannot touch it. He cannot have the Lady he desires. All he can do is watch as her sodden fingers slip in and out, causing his dick to jump; wishing it could be enveloped by Her.
She lets out a low moan and Rick almost comes in his pants.
"You like watching me?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She finger fucks herself harder.
"You like how wet I am?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She thumbs her swollen little clit and never takes her eyes off Rick.
"Do you wish you could touch me?"
"Yes, My Lady. But I'm not worthy," he replies as precum dribbles from his big red cock.
"Hmmmmm," she moans while spreading her legs wider and fingering herself harder, faster, deeper.
She is impossibly wet. Her creaminess is dripping down to the seat of the throne. She lets out another moan, and then comes. She leaves her fingers between her folds as the orgasm washes over her. Rick's manhood aches with painful delight as he can do nothing to quell the fire that is engulfing him.
Once Lady Michonne catches her breath, she removes her hand from between her legs and stands. She does well, considering her knees feel weak from her climax. She steps towards Rick who wants nothing more than for her to throw him to the floor and sit on his face.
The Mistress of the Citadel looks down at the ruggedly handsome man who is kneeling before her.
"Do you want to taste me?" she asks with a devilish grin.
"Please, My Lady," Rick manages.
"Open your mouth," she commands, and he does so.
Michonne then brings her wet fingers close to his face. She lets him smell the scent of her arousal first, before slipping them between his pink lips. Rick swirls his tongue around and tastes her. He sucks her fingers clean. When she withdraws them, she brings them to her own lips and give them onc last lick.
"Thank you, My Lady," says Rick, truly grateful for the experience.
She strokes his hair and gives him another stunning smile before returning to her throne. Once she is seated, she crosses her legs again and then asks, "So, Rick; do you want to tell me who sent you?"