SIR VICTOR By Rex rexlovell@yahoo.com How Sir Victor met the wicked Queen Ivana, and what befell him As Sir Victor approached the castle of the wicked Queen Yvana he espied a maiden, sitting in a glade, and weeping as though her heart would break. She was exceeding fair, with tresses of palest gold, which hung down to below her waist, and she was clad in a gown of some fine and costly cloth the colour of emeralds, trimmed in gold to match her hair. She was attended by a dwarf - a powerful, misshapen man, with a face of villainous caste. Sir Victor drew up his horse and addressed the maiden, "Well met, my Lady, but why dost thou grieve?" "Who art thou, and what dost thou here?" she replied. "I am Sir Victor, son of King Tal of the Kingdom of Tanarth in the far North, my Lady, and could I help thee, I most earnestly beseech thee to tell me how, for I am sworn to render aid to all ladies in distress. Is there aught that I can do for thee?" "Alas, Sir Knight, there is not. For the wicked Queen Yvana hath taken my father, and thrown him into her dungeons, and I am in despair!" "Why hath she done that, my Lady?" "Surely thou hast heard that it is her way to put men to torment, and so take delight in watching their sufferings. Ah, my poor father! Even as I speak, she may be flaying him alive, slowly, inch by inch!" She broke into piteous sobs. Sir Victor dismounted, and took her hand, saying, "Dear Lady, it shall be my quest to free thy father, and bring to an end this evil. Therefore be of good heart." "O, Thank you, sir. But is it not dangerous? The Queen has much power, and is skilled in sorcery. I would not have you join my dear father in her dungeon." "Nay, Lady, I have forsworn fear, and given it my oath to battle valiantly against evil wherever I find it." "Sir Knight, heed my warning, for I shall not repeat it. Should thou fail, the penalty is not death, but the torments of the pit, repeated each day. For she hath a potion to make thee whole again each night, that thou canst suffer anew as often as she wills. She would have thee on the rack, and she would search out your most tender parts, parts which no woman of breeding could mention, with red hot pincers. She would scourge thee with whips, and other things, too terrible to utter. But," and here she lowered her eyes in maidenly modesty, "If thou should succeed, I could refuse thee nothing." Sir Victor gazed at the lovely, forlorn figure before him. Her bust was full and shapely, and he imagined her without her...But nay, he would not permit himself these base thoughts. He bethought himself of his Knightly Oath, and bowing to her answered, "But tell me where thy poor father is, my Lady, and I will find my way to him in some way, and then bring him away in safety." It was a bold speech. "Nay, Sir Knight, arrayed as thou art, thou would never gain entrance. The castle is far too well guarded. If thou wouldst enter Castle de Monesse thou must do so disguised. Remove thy helm, and let me see thy visage. Thou hast a goodly countenance - indeed, a fair one. In the right attire, you could pass as a woman, a female servant. A shawl to cover your head, and shadow your face, and a cloak to hide the contours of your body. Aye, I believe it could be done - you shall go as my serving woman. Do thou now doff thy armour, and Garn, here, will conceal it in my saddlebags. Be thou quick, for no one must see thee". He acceded to this masterful maiden's instructions, and with the dwarf's help soon stood beside his piled armour clad only in shirt and hose. She brought him a cloak, saying, "You must doff those, too. No woman would wear those. Then you may use this cloak." She turned her back while he changed, and when he announced himself ready, she looked back at him and regarded his hairy legs. He caught her look. "In truth, I don't look much like a woman", he observed. "In truth, you don't," she agreed, "But if we are careful, you will pass. Now, Sir Victor, do thou take refreshment with me." From a flagon she poured a clear white wine into two beautiful goblets, encrusted with jewels, and gave him one, saying "I drink to thy successful quest, Sir Victor, and to thy safe return from its perils!" She sipped her wine daintily, but he threw back his head and drank deeply, for he had a mighty thirst. "And in earnest of thy reward when all is done," she murmured, and stepped up to him, and kissed him on the mouth. When she drew back he stood dazed and dumfounded, for though he had kissed beautiful maidens before, he had never kissed one as lovely as this! She laughed, and ran to the cloth spread out on the ground. "Come, my Lord, we shall sup before venturing the Queen's stronghold. Bring thou thy shield, for I would see thy escutcheon." Sir Victor bent to pick up his shield, and found himself barely able to move it, let alone lift it up. The maid called out to him, "What ails thee, Sir Victor? I saw thee ride in with it." "Aye, my Lady," he answered, and tried again. He managed, by dint of great effort, to heave it part way off the ground, only to have it fall heavily from his grasp. "I comprehend it not! It has become as heavy as lead!" She gave a peal of laughter, "Has it, Sir Knight? Or hath thou grown weak? Let me try." She tripped over to him, picked it up, and gave it to him. He promptly dropped it. "Fair lady, I know not what to say! It seems that I have no strength. What can this mean? Am I ill? Or is this some sorcery?" "It means that thou art mine," she answered, and so saying, she seized his arm, and bore him to the ground. "Art thou really willing to endure torture for me?" "Yes, my Lady. I have said so." Sir Victor was sometimes a little slow on the uptake. "And so ye shall! For I an Queen Yvana, and thou art my captive". She motioned to her dwarf, and he held him, grinning, as she stripped him of the rest of his clothes. Then, taking the cord of golden silk from around her waist, she deftly bound his wrists together behind his neck. Sir Victor's astonishment was complete. His strength had so deserted him that he was as a little child in her hands. Resistance was useless, for of the two, the slender maid was by far the stronger. "Now shalt thou know what it is to be in a woman's power! As thou hast taken women for thy pleasure, so shall I bend thee to mine. She ran her hands over his body, and smiled her approval at the manifest result of her caresses. She took hold of his manhood, and smiling into his eyes, murmured, "This is henceforth thy raison d'etre. It is thy core. For Sir Victor thou art no longer, but a catamite, and thou exist only to amuse me, and from time to time, perhaps, the ladies of my court." "Your Majesty! I an no... no love toy! Right gladly would I swyve thee, but not as... as thy fancy boy!" "No? Perhaps I can persuade thee." She stroked him, and though he grew rigid with lust, he protested still. "Wilt thou kiss me?" "Nay, my Lady, I will not!" "We shall see, then. Garn, bind him to that tree. No, 'twere better to spread him out betwixt two trees." This Garn did, standing him up between two birches, with legs wide apart, and elbows tethered to the trunks, while Queen Yvana removed a sleek whip and a small pot of ointment from her baggage. She made her hips sway provocatively as she approached him. "Now, Sir Knight, I fear I must use this whip on thee. When thou canst endure no more, cry out to me 'Kiss me, fairest Ivana', and it may be that I will stop. And if I do, which is not certain, for it is my joy to ply the whip - but if I should lay down my scourge, thou must suit thy action to thy word. Here must I caution thee. Dost know Sir Granleigh? He is a knight and warrior no more, but labours in the mines with a ring in his nose. His voice is as high and sweet as any girl's for the space between his shanks is quite empty. He tried to bite me, and for that treachery I had him spread on a frame, and devoted all the hours of one night to robbing him of....this. But thou wouldst not do so base a thing, wouldst thou?". "Nay, Madam. It would be against my oath to harm any woman." "And against thy interests, think you not? For I am not given to vain threats. But enough of that! We understand each other, I think. But Sir Victor! Where thy lance was, I see only a little shrivelled pepper! I would joust with thee, but thou art ill-armed to joust with a woman! But be not dismayed, for I shall restore it. This ointment will keep thee randy as a Turk, and more importantly, able." She dipped her fingers into the little pot, and smeared his pike with some sweet smelling ointment. Immediatly, it began to thicken and harden, until it was half again as large as it had ever been before, and hard as mahogany. Sir Victor couldn't prevent himself from moving his hips as the maid rubbed the oil into the shank, and only stopped himself by praying, and remembering his Oath of Knighthood. "And now, Sir Victor, we shall make a beginning, that ye shall understand the manner of your servitude. But stay thy fear. I shall do thee no lasting hurt, for I want thee whole that thou mayst fulfill other duties, and that very soon. Dost thou endure pain well? Tell me, for I would hear from your lips how thou standest pain." "Well enough, my Lady." "La! It may be that thine own lips will give thee the lie! But I would know first hand." So saying, she drew her arm back, and swung. The lash hissed and wrapped around his hips and buttocks, the tail snapping into the soft inside of his thigh. The next stroke was delivered from the opposite direction, and curled 'round his bottom to snap into the other thigh. She had a cunning wrist, and a trained eye, and the little silk tassels stung like scorpions. Sir Victor's eyes opened wide with astonishment at the first stroke, and as the flogging proceeded his face became a mask of pain and terror. Soon, as hissing lash followed hissing lash in slow, implacable cadence, he began to scream, bringing a smile of satisfaction to his tormentress. At the fourteenth stroke he began to cry for mercy. She lowered her whip, and pressing her other hand to her breast, regarded her captive. The ointment was working it's magic, and he was still full erect. "But, my sweet love, I do shew thee mercy. I have not struck thee on thy tender parts. Thou shouldst thank me for so staying my hand! Until night falls thy privy parts are safe, for I have a use for them. But we waste time, my angel, for I have much to teach thee with the whip." That said, she stepped back, and took up her stance before him. Again and again her arm rose and fell, seemingly without effort, to bring the cruel whip curling about her writhing victim, until, very soon, he screamed his surrender. "No! No! Please, no! I'll kiss th...." SSSSSSssssssWHICK! "AAAaaagh! I yield! I yield! NO!" SSSSSSSsssssssszick! "Yeiiiiiiii! Enough! I'll do thy bidding, only have merc..."Hisssssss-CRACK! "A boon! I'm thine, my Lady! Whip me no more! I yield to thee! I YIELD!!!!" Five times more did the sleek black whip seek out his body, kissing his buttocks and cleft, his nipples and thighs. When at last she ceased her work he was babbling. + "Dost truly yield to me, then?" she asked. "Truly, my lady! Only ask, and it will be done." She advanced to him, and took hold of his mast. "And this?" "Is thine, my Lady." "Aye, 'tis mine - to use or to torment. Or to bestow on my friends, or even my servants. For now thou art in very truth my odalesque. Thou hath asked quarter, and I have given it thee. Or dost require more persuasion?" "NO! No, my Lady. I am thine." "Yes, you are. Kiss thee the whip that made you mine." She held it up to his mouth, and he kissed it. "Is it not a beautiful thing?" He looked at it. Long and slender, and very smooth, tapering slowly from the thickness of two fingers to the thinness of a feather's spine, with it's three little knotted tassels of mauve silk. "It is indeed, my Lady, but it is very cruel." She laughed. "La! It was meant to be. It were made with mine own hands, and with much care. And now, thou must keep thy bargain. And if thou give not good measure - full measure, why then thou must be whipped again. Shall I flog thee again?" "Nay, Ma'am. I...I am thy servant. I mean... thy slave." She grasped his stem, and squeezed, and let her fingers play with his cullions, and despite his agony, he felt a great lust. Seizing his hair she pulled his face down to hers, and her mouth seemed to draw the last remnant of will from him. Then she turned to the dwarf. "Go thou and attend to the horses, and keep thy back turned. If thou dost but peep this way I shall know it, and thou shalt spend thy last hours staked out on an ant hill, smeared with honey." The dwarf blanched and hastened away, and Queen Ivana let slip her gown. She took a little bench from the feasting cloth, and placed it before her new slave. Then she stepped daintily up on it, and embracing the bound man set about ravishing him most thoroughly. Much later, they set off for the Castle. We leave Sir Victor slung across Ivana's saddlebow, one bared and striped buttock held firmly and possessively in the Queen's fair hand. For many long months was he to be her captive, and many the adventures that befell him. But that is another tale.