They hung her from the cliff-yawning walls, in a metal cage. If she had been a prisoner of war, they would have hung her on the outside above the gates, to starve over the conquered city and have her eyes picked away; instead they hung her at the throat of the vaulted ceilings, naked, for ornamentation. Servants gave her food and drink, took her down three times a day to be exercised and have a chance to relieve herself, and then they put her back in the cage.

She hated to be cranked up. She hated the jostling sway beneath her. She hated the rattle of the chains. She hated the boredom of waiting and waiting. She hated the fact that with each passing day, she wanted one of those men below to touch her, even once.

They were all conquerors and traitors, and she had been a proud daughter of a prefect. She had overseen the trade of her father’s province, had watched silks from far east come through and spices from her family’s fields go out. Now her mind was frozen with want.

At first, they had stared at her. A rumoured beauty, a jewel held by the new king. But soon only foreigners and newcomers stared at her. They had all grown jaded and used to her body hung up behind the throne. Now she watched them avidly, hoping they would look at her, for their gazes would be like caresses.

Days blurred. She became desperate. She could not be touched, so she touched herself. Her hands cupped her full, neglected breasts and stroked. Someone—a conquerer-lord—looked up. From time to time someone else would too, and each time her mouth parted with a gasp of delight.

With daring she reached down between her legs. She barely had room to stand, so she sat with her legs dangling into the open air—it should have frightened her, but she was too desperate for attention now. She brought her cunt close to the bars, and spread it to the assembled men below. She fingered herself, moaning, and the more men looked at her the wetter she became. When she became too messy, she licked the strands of her own juices from her fingers.

Court ended early. The conquerer-king ordered her cage lowered.

Would she be punished… or rewarded?

© Felisha Moon 2018

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