They don't respect you.

You climb down the rope. it burns your hands slightly but you make it to the ground without injury. There is some discomfort; your erect nipples press painfully into the cold metal of your bra, and the Rush Pepper Oil has solidified at the entrance to your womanhood and dried a little. It still burns, warm and painful like a candle to close to your crotch. At least the armored thong is shaped to the female form. It fells good to have the cool metal pressed to your vulva.

You take a closer look at the gate. There is no visible damage on this side no doubt what orcs made it to the castle gate are being pelted by arrows. Add to this the fact that the path to the gate makes it impossible to get a large ram.

You pass a stable hand and order him to get your horse, your voice full of authority. There are archers on the walls of the courtyard ready to continue the barrage if the orcs make it in. It appears the fight is almost over all you have to do is take the credit.

You ascend a nearby stand lit by torches, "soldiers give us your attention" you command. All eyes are fixed on you. "This cowardly attack has threatened our city, your way of life." Their are a few murmurs among the crowd, and this is unbelievably rude, they are normally silent. You ignore their disrespect and speak louder to be heard "The orcs seek to disorganise us--" are some of them pointing at you? "--but your Queen is here to lead you to victory!"

They didn't respond with the rising cheer you expected, some cheered, but others continued talking to their neighbours, and others seemed to be repressing laughs. Finally one voice speaks loud enough for you to hear saying "I'll follow her to bed." Filthy drunk, you will find him and have him executed.

"Give me a spear and I will lead you into battle" you exclaim trying to regain control.

"What's the matter? last prick wasn't long enough?"

The crowd laughs prompting another voice to say "Hey queeny, your tits are too big for your armor!"

This time you caught his face. You scream "we will have your tongue for this insult."

"Where do you want his tongue, apparently 'a few licks earns him a blowjob'"

"I bet he could get a better deal I can read something that says she likes cum down her throat" This comment came from a royal guard almost in the front row. And then you remembered 'I love cum down my throat' was written on your throat by Edgard you as begged Aime to keep fingering you. You look down and see what is causing this mockery. Red marks from rope and whip crisscross your body; some dried cum is still clinging to your body mid drip, but worst of all the humiliating body-writing is clearly visible in the torch light. Your eyes focus on your belly where Edgard had traced Aime's hand, fingers toward your most intimation body part. A nearby man read the label aloud "I've had a whole hand up my dirty cunt."

"Ha, her so called majesty has been fisted"

You hadn't actually. Amie had gotten her full hand in earlier in the week, but you screamed your safeword when she tried to make a fist. You try to correct him "No it wasn't her fist just--"

"Oh 'her fist' is her whoreness a lesbian? Or just up for anything?"

"If she is a lesbian whore I'm sure a fisting from a real man will show her men are fun too."

You hear a man in the front say "Humiliation gets her wet" and you can't tell if he is reading the message scrawled down your inner thigh or is just commenting on your juices flowing over said message.

Still thinking you can salvage this you point to an officer near the front of the crowd and say "You! control your men."

He looks up at you smiling and says "heels like those, a woman only wears when she wants a good fucking."

You stare down at said fuck-me heels trying to think of something to say to keep your dignity, but its useless. The think of you--they know you for the slut you are.

A knight, Sir Ronald based on his shield, speaks up "I recognise that armor. That was Queen Verandia's armor she would fuck everyone after a victory."

Despite the height of the platform you feel as if they are all towering over you. "Just the men that impressed her" you meekly try to correct him, but no one hears you. They are all too busy jeering and making obscene suggestions.

Another knight, Sir Henry you think, climbs the platform beside you and says "when you fuck every man after our victory, remember the class structure. I don't want some whore that has been used by serfs." You are his Queen and that's what he is worried about.

Your face is burning despite your clear arousal this isn't what you wanted. You are a slut, and would probably enjoy visiting these men's rooms one after another, crawling when you could no longer walk, and tied in an available position when you could no longer move at all. But you didn't want them to know that. You like the dignity and respect being a queen gave you. Even in your fantasies you still had some respect, a queen acting like a slut not because she wanted to but because she was **** to.

Somebody else has snuck up behind you and is fiddling with your bra. "Look, fellow men, see what you are fighting for." it is Fredrick the captain of your body guard he removes your steel bra and tosses to the mob. Your freed breasts bounce slightly.

You look up shocked out of your submissive stance, Only a tiny metal plate hides your body from these uncontrollable men. Some of them already have there cocks out, masturbating or taunting you. You just stare out enduring the utter embarrassment.

Then the gatehouse explodes.

Rubble is flung far by what ever siege weapon the orcs are using. Officers pull their troops back trying to get them into formation. The orc horde pours in taking advantage of the chaos. And you are in the middle of it all clad in a tiny piece of metal and slutty heels.