Scourge {1/3}afterandalasiaDecember 13 2011, 22:13:45 UTC
"To the dungeon with them!" Haroud cried.
"No." The bluntness of her words catches them all off guard. She gestured to the boy. "He does not belong in the dungeon. Take him to my chambers. The finest in the Palace, if you please," she added pointedly.
"Jasmine!" The boy protested, trying to pull free of the grip of the guards. Beast growled and lunged towards him, drawn back only by a gentle stroke on his hindquarters. A smile crossed the Scourge's lips. "You can't--"
"Silence, boy," she sneered. She bought up the handle of her whip and dragged it slowly underneath his chin. "I'll deal with you later."
Only when the doors were closed behind him did some semblance of peace return to the throne room. The Scourge sighed, rolled her eyes, and returned to her throne.
She had Agrabah to deal with.
~
By the time that she finally retired from her duties, night had long since fallen, and she had almost forgotten about the boy who had been troubling her since the start of this most recent misadventure.
"Men," she said, and her new guards snapped to attention. At least they, unlike the man who had claimed to be her father, had some discipline to them. "Show me to my chambers."
"Yes, Scourge," they muttered in response, and with Beast at her side she allows herself to be shown through the Palace to the grand chambers that have been claimed for her. The rooms feel familiar, almost recognisable, but she dismisses it out of hand. It must simply be that she was born to rule this sort of place.
She left two guards outside her doors, and Beast prowling back and forth within the corridor, before turning to the room with a nod of satisfaction. True, the windows were a little large, and might make a counter-attack too easy, but they did afford a good view of her city of Agrabah.
"Jasmine?"
And, of course, the boy was here. She turned, removing her gauntlets and letting them fall to the floor. Doubtless there would be servants somewhere in the Palace who could be found and put to proper work -- that is to say, serving the new Sultana upon her throne. For now, though, the boy was prize enough.
"Jasmine, please, I don't know what's gotten into you, but--"
"Silence," she snapped, and a look of shock crossed his face. Strange, that one could be so blind when the very Princess of Evil was before him. Had he, from all of Agrabah, not heard of her? "Now... Aladdin, I believe that I heard them calling you..." She placed her hands on her hips, regarding him with the contempt that he deserves. She did, however, have to admit that he could be useful -- he was young, strong, agile, and one might say attractive even despite his poofy hair.
"So, Aladdin... you have reasons not to want me on the throne?"
"Your father is the Sultan!" he cried. She gripped his chin fiercely.
"My father is a bumbling fool. How I could have come from him I cannot even tell... perhaps my mother was stronger." Her thumb brushed back and forth over his lips, pressing hard into his skin. "No. I sit upon Agrabah's throne now. And I will, of course, only allow those who are loyal to me to remain in the Palace. Are you willing to pledge your loyalty to me, Aladdin?"
He started to splutter a protest; she backhanded him across the face, the sound like a cracking whip, which only served to give her another idea. Slowly, she uncurled the whip from her hip, stretching out the black leather in front of him and watching the fear in his eyes at the sight of it. Perhaps it would not be impossible for him to learn.
"We shall see, then," she said sharply. She thrust the handle of the whip between his lips and teeth, watching him jerk almost as if he was gagging. With swift, deft hands she stripped his clothing from him, first ripping the silly hat from his head, then undoing his belt to let his pants fall to the floor. He grunted something through the whip, struggling, but she glared at him as she drew the knife from her belt to cut the vest from his shoulders.
Finally he stood before her, naked. She stepped back for a moment to regard him, still letting the knife swing back and forth between her fingers, cool metal against her skin. She allowed her eyes to be drawn downwards to his cock, already partially erect and hanging proud of his balls.
"No." The bluntness of her words catches them all off guard. She gestured to the boy. "He does not belong in the dungeon. Take him to my chambers. The finest in the Palace, if you please," she added pointedly.
"Jasmine!" The boy protested, trying to pull free of the grip of the guards. Beast growled and lunged towards him, drawn back only by a gentle stroke on his hindquarters. A smile crossed the Scourge's lips. "You can't--"
"Silence, boy," she sneered. She bought up the handle of her whip and dragged it slowly underneath his chin. "I'll deal with you later."
Only when the doors were closed behind him did some semblance of peace return to the throne room. The Scourge sighed, rolled her eyes, and returned to her throne.
She had Agrabah to deal with.
~
By the time that she finally retired from her duties, night had long since fallen, and she had almost forgotten about the boy who had been troubling her since the start of this most recent misadventure.
"Men," she said, and her new guards snapped to attention. At least they, unlike the man who had claimed to be her father, had some discipline to them. "Show me to my chambers."
"Yes, Scourge," they muttered in response, and with Beast at her side she allows herself to be shown through the Palace to the grand chambers that have been claimed for her. The rooms feel familiar, almost recognisable, but she dismisses it out of hand. It must simply be that she was born to rule this sort of place.
She left two guards outside her doors, and Beast prowling back and forth within the corridor, before turning to the room with a nod of satisfaction. True, the windows were a little large, and might make a counter-attack too easy, but they did afford a good view of her city of Agrabah.
"Jasmine?"
And, of course, the boy was here. She turned, removing her gauntlets and letting them fall to the floor. Doubtless there would be servants somewhere in the Palace who could be found and put to proper work -- that is to say, serving the new Sultana upon her throne. For now, though, the boy was prize enough.
"Jasmine, please, I don't know what's gotten into you, but--"
"Silence," she snapped, and a look of shock crossed his face. Strange, that one could be so blind when the very Princess of Evil was before him. Had he, from all of Agrabah, not heard of her? "Now... Aladdin, I believe that I heard them calling you..." She placed her hands on her hips, regarding him with the contempt that he deserves. She did, however, have to admit that he could be useful -- he was young, strong, agile, and one might say attractive even despite his poofy hair.
"So, Aladdin... you have reasons not to want me on the throne?"
"Your father is the Sultan!" he cried. She gripped his chin fiercely.
"My father is a bumbling fool. How I could have come from him I cannot even tell... perhaps my mother was stronger." Her thumb brushed back and forth over his lips, pressing hard into his skin. "No. I sit upon Agrabah's throne now. And I will, of course, only allow those who are loyal to me to remain in the Palace. Are you willing to pledge your loyalty to me, Aladdin?"
He started to splutter a protest; she backhanded him across the face, the sound like a cracking whip, which only served to give her another idea. Slowly, she uncurled the whip from her hip, stretching out the black leather in front of him and watching the fear in his eyes at the sight of it. Perhaps it would not be impossible for him to learn.
"We shall see, then," she said sharply. She thrust the handle of the whip between his lips and teeth, watching him jerk almost as if he was gagging. With swift, deft hands she stripped his clothing from him, first ripping the silly hat from his head, then undoing his belt to let his pants fall to the floor. He grunted something through the whip, struggling, but she glared at him as she drew the knife from her belt to cut the vest from his shoulders.
Finally he stood before her, naked. She stepped back for a moment to regard him, still letting the knife swing back and forth between her fingers, cool metal against her skin. She allowed her eyes to be drawn downwards to his cock, already partially erect and hanging proud of his balls.
She laughed.
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