Chaper 3. Page 2

"Well Mother how do you feel now you are my lowest maid?" asked Queen Clarice, standing in front of the full mirror, adjusting her silk robe and gazing at her reflection. "Doesn't it hurt your pride? Doesn't it feel terrible to serve your own daughter?"Alana, formerly the queen, felt a surge of anger rises within her chest. She could hardly believe that her once powerful and respected position had become nothing more than servitude. But she held her tongue, knowing that any response would only fuel Clarice's sadistic pleasure. Instead, Alana bowed her head submissively and continued scrubbing the floor, wishing desperately for a way out of this humiliating situation. With her head lowered, Alana caught sight of the royal guards approaching. One by one, they approached the queen, each whispering something into her ear. As she listened, a devilish grin spread across Clarice's face. With an authoritative snap of her fingers, she commanded the guards to lead Alana away.

They dragged her through the opulent halls, past the corridors lined with velvet tapestries depicting the glory days of the royal family. Alana's heart raced, fearing what horrors awaited her in the barracks of the royal guard. As she was pushed roughly through the massive wooden doors, the stench of sweat and dirty uniforms hit her nostrils like a foul wind. Queen Clarice stood before a row of her most loyal knights, commanding them to undress. "This will be my reward for my beloved mother," she declared with a sneer. Alana couldn't help but feel a deep shame as she realized what fate awaited her. Each knight eagerly complied, stepping forward to reveal their hardened cocks, anticipating the pleasures that lay ahead. Alana felt her body tremble as she saw the men, fully naked, aroused and ready for her. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she knew there was no escape. With a shaking hand, she removed her dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing her pale, toned body.

Nervous yet determined, Alana slowly moved towards the row of knights, feeling the weight of their eyes upon her. As she approached, her body trembled with fear and anticipation. The first knight grabbed her roughly, pulling her close to him. His hands gripped her hips tightly, while his rough calloused fingers made contact with her soft skin. He growled, thrusting his rock-hard member against her, making her wince at the sudden ****. She tried to resist, but her efforts were futile against these brutes. With each passing moment, her willpower faded, replaced by a growing desire to satisfy their lustful appetites. The second knight, even more brutish than the first, approached her aggressively. Grabbing her waist roughly, he pulled her down to her knees, thrusting his erection against her lips, commanding her to suckle. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth, allowing his manhood to fill her, tears rolling down her cheeks as she succumbed to his dominance.

Her third partner was no different. Gripping her hair tightly, he **** her head into his lap, compelling her to use her tongue to pleasure him. Each knight had their way with her, taking turns, leaving her body bruised and aching, yet somehow still craving more. Alana felt an odd sense of detachment as if her spirit had disconnected from her body entirely. The last of the knights finished his debauchery, leaving her limp and exhausted. As they dispersed, one knight turned back, eyeing her contemptuously. She remained silent, too numb to protest or plead for mercy. The once-proud queen lowered her gaze, defeated by her own vulnerability. Tears streamed down her face, blending with the sweat and blood from her ravaged body. Alone in the dusty corridor, Alana allowed herself to break down, collapsing onto the cold floor. Clarice saw her Mother in tears and smirked. "look at the royal whore on the floor where she belongs. You are pathetic and I no longer think of you as my Mother." she said with malice in her voice.

Her cruel words sent shivers down Alana's spine, further breaking her already shattered spirit. Alana looked up at her daughter, unable to muster any anger or defiance. All she could do was accept her fate and pray for the day when her strength would return. As days passed, Clarice found new ways to torment her former queen. In addition to the regular sexual encounters, she devised other methods of humiliation. One afternoon, she ordered the servants to place Alana in a public area, surrounded by the royal guards. With a smirk, Clarice approached her helpless mother, who could only watch as her daughter sauntered closer. She stopped inches away from Alana, her eyes holding a mixture of hatred and arrogance."It seems you have forgotten your duties," Clarice hissed through clenched teeth. "That will not happen again." Alana trembled at the thought of another encounter, knowing how much it would hurt both physically and emotionally.

Yet, she couldn't find the courage to resist or defy her daughter. Alana had been tied to the stocks in the town square for everyone to see and ridicule. "Ladies and gentlemen please feel free to use this whore as you wish," announced Queen Clarice. The crowd roared with laughter and lewd suggestions. As the taunting continued, Alana felt a familiar presence behind her, causing her heart to race. Alana was pinched and prodded, her ass paddled until it was hot and red. Her mouth was used repeatedly by both men and women. The next morning, Alana was brought before Clarice once more. With tears still fresh in her eyes, she awaited her daughter's command. "Come here, whore," commanded Clarice, her voice dripping with venom. Alana **** herself to walk across the room, her knees wobbling like jelly. As she reached her daughter, Clarice grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back painfully. Her face was close enough to smell the putrid scent of her breath. Clarice whispered, "Remember, you are nothing but a lowly servant and I can take anything I want from you."

The intensity of her glare made Alana feel smaller than ever. The thought of disobeying her only resulted in even harsher treatment. There was no point in fighting anymore. "Yes, my queen," Alana whispered, her voice barely audible. Clarice smirked hearing the former queen now a whore call her Queen."Isn't it a bit ironic, dear whore? Your pride stripped away and reduced to servitude?" she asked coldly. Alana could feel her face burn with rage, the insult clear as day. However, she knew better than to speak back against her own daughter. Instead, she kept her head low, letting her gaze drift downwards. She knew Clarice enjoyed tormenting her. It was why she had been put in this situation – to make her suffer, to remind her that she was nothing more than a mere mortal. But there was something else driving her; something deeper than just pain and degradation. As the former Queen Alana spent the rest of her days serving her daughter and anyone else she was ordered to. Clarice was worshipped within the realm for being strong.

This is the end of this path.

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