Courtesan Killings 3

Posted by Barbanne on February 18, 2004 at 22:30:50:



I was only out for a moment or two.
I sat up groggily and found Sherylina sitting with her back against the bed gasping and looking decidedly unwell.
Lissana lay on the floor hissing and cursing imprecations and she was only kept in place by Alexander's sword point resting against her throat.
I dragged myself to my feet and tottered over to Sherylina and, heedless of Alexander and the other palace guards, now streaming into the room, I knelt and took my Empress in my arms and held her to my breast, kissing her hair and her face and saying, "Oh, please the gods, tell me you are alright Sherylina."
"Ah my little kitten but for you, your Empress would lie here naked and dead now."
"Don't say that Sherylina, don't say that."
"Ah but it's true kitten, you are your Empress's saviour."
I became aware that the room was filling.
"Empress I must preserve your dignity," I pulled off my shift and helped her into it. Others now held Lissana, still spitting, hissing and screaming, and Alexander crossed to where I now stood totally naked and put his short cloak around me. I pulled it tight but it only reached to barely below my waist and so the royal guards were treated to a right regal pussy perv.
Sherylina had crossed to where Lissana was being held by two beefy guardsmen.
"So bitch, you are the assassin who has moved amongst us in such a cowardly manner. Well now it is your turn only first we will have the name of your employer won't we?"
Lissana spat at her.
"Empress, here, in the room next door." A guardsman was beckoning to us.
Sherylina crossed into the adjoining room, I followed.
On the luxurious bed lay Salema, strangled mercilessly to death, her long thin body contorted into a frenzied rictus by her horrible demise. Her tongue hung out and her eyeballs stared at us as we entered. Goop had dribbled copiously from her open mouth and her pussy yawned widely where Lissana had spread her legs in a parody of a sexual pose.
She had been gorgeous, now she had been turned into a ghastly wanton by the brutality of her strangling.
Sherylina stormed back into her own bedroom, I followed in her wake.
"Bring her," she snapped to the guards.
Lissana was dragged out into the loggia and trussed between two pillars, stretched painfully in a figure X pose by having her wrists and ankles trussed firmly to the tops and bases of the columns. She kept up her abuse throughout. Her own strangler's cord, the one which had been around Sherylina's neck, was brought out and wrapped around her neck and a strong wooden stick was wound into it. Then the palace executioner was summoned and instructed to start winding it tight.
This guy was a short, wide, really hairy dude in an obscenely short tunic and he obviously loved his work.
He started winding the stick and Lissana cursed and screamed, pouring out an unending stream of vicious invective. She looked at me and the hatred that flowed from her eyes would surely have turned me to stone were that possible.
He wound tighter and the cord started biting into her neck.
"Who is your master?" said Sherylina.
"Curse you and curse that filthy serving wench Barbanne."
Sherylina nodded at the executioner and he turned the stick tightening the garrotte.
"Tell me who sent you."
"Never bitch whore."
Another nod and another few turns.
"Tell me."
"No, filthy bit......................"
The executioner kept winding the stick in the cord and the noose tightened slowly and yet inexorably. Lissana's eyes were straining outward, bugging from their sockets. Her tongue had been forced out between her teeth and waggled over her chin like a fat and evil slug. Her face was blackening and her lips had gone purple. The executioner gave the stick one sharp twist and Lissana's head fell forward.
"The name," hissed Sherylina, her fingers entwined in Lissana's hair and dragging the poor woman's head up so that she could stare directly into her pain filled eyes. I could hardly recognise my beloved mistress, such venom showed on her face.
"Never," Lissana's head fell forward and she appeared to have passed out.
Sherylina beckoned to the executioner's assistant, an evil, fat, pock marked woman with a penchant for extreme cruelty and this harridan came forward with bamboo slivers in her fat fingers and as the executioner renewed the pressure on the garrotte this horrid slug inserted her little needles into Lissana's pussy and thrust and probed, twisting, turning and jiggling them back and forth.
What horrible screams issued forth from the strangler. I knew she was an evil murderess but I could barely stand to stay there and watch this.
The choking continued and the probing continued and Lissana's face, now quite purplish, was thrown backwards on her neck, tendons straining as though they might burst through her skin, eyes staring at the sky from which no succour came.
"The name."
A twist of the stick and a thrust of the bamboo.
Such a scream and then sobbing, strangled sobbing, the sounds of a broken soul.
"The name," Sherylina was relentless.
"Actus of Acaria."
"Ah, the Prince of the Eastern realm."
Sherylina again nodded at the executioner. The fat slug withdrew her needles and scuttled away. The executioner wound the stick around and around and the cord bit into Lissana's neck so viciously that blood oozed from beneath the ligature.
Her head lolled back on her neck, face upturned and blackening.
Another few turns and her bladder failed copiously.
Her tongue lolled turning green.
Again the tightening.
A last great muscle spasm and then it was over and Lissana's body hung limply from its bonds. Her last synapses fired and involuntary muscle twitching spasmed her corpse. Bloody saliva strung from her mouth.
Sherylina ordered her taken down and carried outside to the Traitor's Staircase wher she was laid out, splayed on her back, arms and legs stretched out, dead horribly for all to see and contemplate.
As the sun set her beheaded corpse was dragged by hooks to the river and tossed in. Her head was sent in a bag to Prince Actus of Arcaria.

That evening, sometime around ten o'clock, Sherylina summoned me and when I was escorted into her presence in the lesser bedrooms of the palace courtesans it was to find her standing beside another sumptuous bed on which lay the deadest woman I had ever seen. I knew her, her name was Vestalia and she was one of the lesser courtesan's but was known widely as a very available slut.
She also had been rumoured to be getting her claws deeply into the Emperor's affections.
Vestalia had never been what one would call a great beauty. She had a beak like aquiline nose and a weak chin and her eyes bugged slightly from beneath almost transparent lids. She had a full pouty lipped mouth and very prominent buck teeth. Her body was soft and round, big hipped and sort of squeezy cuddly all over. She had long, straight, fine, dishwater blonde hair.
She was fun and although sometimes rather small minded and mean and very self centred she was a girl I had often laughed with. Her ambitions and grasping venality were very up front but she had an otherwise nice nature and was good to be around.
Right now though all she had remaining to her was her very dead corpse.
She was on her back, right arm outflung and legs wide apart and her left arm trailed down to where her hand carressed her bulging cunt, her middle finger buried inside it right up past both knuckles as though she had been pleasuring herself even as she died.
I thought she looked posed, probably after death.
Her head was back and her eyes were really bugging as they stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Her mouth was gaping open drooling whitish, thick saliva and her prominent upper teeth were jutting out. The cord had almost cut right into her soft neck and the deep indents told a vivid story of a windpipe completely cut off. Her breasts lolled seductively to either side and I noticed her nipples were like big, pink, squashed strawberries capping her pointy titties.
Vestalia was sure dead.
"Another one Barbanne," said Sherylina.
"Yeah," I said, my fingers running over Vestalia's face, breasts, tummy and lingering on her slit.
"We shall bury her with the others. No one need know just how many of the Emperor's courtesan's died in this terrible business."
"Sure. Funny though."
"What is funny Barbanne?"
"Well Lissana's corpse is feeding the fishes and her head is on its way to Actus but poor Vestalia here is still warm and even occasionally twitching."
"Barbanne when I asked you to be my eyes and ears I did not want you to tell me how to interpret things."
"Sherylina, if you tell me that Vestalia, who was after all a little slut with delusions about the Emperor, has managed to get herself strangled by Lissana several hours after Lissana herself was garrotted then that's what happened."
"I knew you would understand my little kitten. Now help me cart Vestalia down to our crowded ledge and then I shall have my mortuarians prepare all of our girls for burial. What do you want this time? head or legs?"
"Legs I think. I always admired Vestalia's ankles."
We carted Vestalia down somewhat unceremoniously and dumped her.
On the way back Sherylina put her arm around my shoulders.
"Tell me about you and Alexander kitten. Do you love him?"
"I believe I do my Empress."
"Then I shall arrange a wonderful betrothal. Nothing is too good for my little kitten."
I knew I was going to have my mouth shut one way or another and being the Empress's confidant was much the preferable way so I smiled and kissed her and thanked her profusely.
She smiled back and we both knew just exactly where we stood.
The palace poisoners were dispatched to Arcaria and Actus's harem started dying in great numbers.
The Empress encouraged me to pursue Alexander and eventually I married him and he and I settled into a small cottage to the north of the capital and became farmers.
I still attended on Sherylina from time to time and very occasionally she wnted me to join her in her room of pain and pleasure.
She still called me her kitten although I was no longer required to be her eyes and ears. I was happy but underneath it all I knew I lived at the whim of a woman whose priorities changed and for whom I was only needed when I was either useful or unimportant.
I often lie awake at nights wondering when it will be my turn to be found dead on my bed or flung naked and bleeding down the traitor's staircase or dragged with hooks through my flesh down to the river's edge.
When that happens I turn to my brave guardsman and hold him and pray to the Gods.