Conquered Twins – Part 1 by othellotre

Michel squirmed in his chair, his hands pinned behind his back, while his two younger daughters – the twins – were forced to face each other on the bed. They were dressed in their fine, well-tailored dresses, their hair flowing in blond manes over their backs. Their eyes were red and big and the round cheeks were wet from the many tears that had spilled during the hour they’ve sat tied on the floor and receiving both slaps and hard-handed grips over their hair and neck.They glanced desperately at Michel – or more specifically at the dagger held to his throat.

“What are you waiting for? You want to see your dear father leave this place alive?” The man, who also happened to be the owner of the dagger against Michel’s throat, was icy cold in his voice as he pressed the edge against Michel’s neck.

His two eighteen-year-old daughters, identical in but a few features that only those in the family could discern, sobbed again before their lips met in a shy, awkward kiss. Michel looked around, trying to find something that could save him and his poor daughters from this living nightmare.

A woman stood next to the bed with a narrow riding stick in her hands. She had dark red hair in a tight ponytail, looked to be in her mid-twenties, and wore a tight, blood-red dress with a black corset that cinched her slim waist and shapely bust. She was also an incredible beauty, perfectly suited for her self-proclaimed role of dominatrix over the two unwilling girls.

Beside her, still on the floor, sat Michel’s older daughter – Maia. She had just turned nineteen, had darker hair than the twins but shared their beautiful, sweet features. Her mouth was tightly bound by a rope tied in a thick knot between her teeth, but her eyes were wide with horror and despair. In addition to the girls in the room, half a dozen men stood along the walls, dressed in dirty and dented armor, their hands resting on their sword belts, as well as Michel’s own companion – the gentleman with the dagger – who remained. Based on the lust filled eyes and the clattering of the watching warriors, there was no help to be had.

A lot had happened in a short time. Two days earlier, Michel had received news that one of his vassals had been attacked by a rival – Duke Armond, who had long been critical of Michel’s rule. As a king who took pride in his responsibility to his vassals, Michel had immediately ordered the bulk of his military force to march to Sir Geofran’s estates to rescue him against Armond’s forces.

His troops had barely entered the gate of the city before they were ambushed by the combined forces of Sir Geofran and Armond. The siege that followed was short and bloody – Michel did not even manage to mobilize the remainder of his army before the walls were taken and the fires began to spread across the city.

And now he sat tied with several layers of rope between his teeth and Sir Geofran’s own dagger against his neck while his youngest daughters – the twins Emilie and Rosa – crying and whimpering were forced together in a most forbidden kiss. Michel tore at the ropes, tried to pull himself free from his captivity, stop it if he so had to throw himself on Geofran’s dagger. But without success. The ropes were tightly tied by people used to handling prisoners. He was completely in their power.

“Don’t be shy. You know each other. Give each other a real kiss, as is appropriate between close sisters!” The woman struck the mattress with a riding stick and Emi and Rosa gasped and pressed their lips harder against each other. It was still not a kiss between lovers – but rather two pairs of lips rubbing against each other in horror. But it seemed to make the onlookers happy, based on their laughs of pleasure and… lust. Had Michel had a sword in his hands, he would have cut off every one of their depraved limbs.

“That’s not what I’d call a kiss,” the red-haired young lady announced. “I’ll show how it should look.” With that she tore Emi away from her sister and brought her mouth to the eighteen year old girl’s face. Ariela Armond was known for her hot temper and unflattering rumors had long circulated about her promiscuous attitude to carnal pleasures. As the daughter of Duke Armond, she was a constant participant among the finer gatherings of the aristocracy, but despite her fine background, there were whispers about how she indulged in occult traditions and rituals. A few years earlier, she is said to have been found naked in the forest, surrounded by a pack of equally naked slaves – both male and female – who were forced to satisfy her with their tongues under the clear full moon. According to the whispers, she lay in the center of a pentagram of wax candles, chanting in some unintelligible language with the face of a young slave girl between her legs, while the rest of the slaves were forced to lie with each other within the diameter of the pentagram. Some of the more gossipy tongues had even claimed that the men were forced to squirt their seed all over young lady Ariela’s exposed body before the slave girls were coerced to lick her clean.

Michel had always been careful not to succumb to rumours, but now as he saw the young lady thrust her tongue into his daughter’s mouth and hungrily kiss the terrified girl, he feared he had been naive in his gullibility. Emi chirped against Ariela’s lips as the red haired woman’s hand closed around her breast and squeezed casually.

“This is what a kiss should taste like, little Emilie,” Ariela whispered as she yanked the girl by the hair and threw her back against her twin. “Now show your sister what you learned.”

“AHH!” moaned Emi as the riding whip hit her over the thin cloth covering her bum and she hurriedly crawled over to her sister, who was kneeling wide-eyed at Lady Armond’s display. “AHH!” Emi chirped again as the riding stick once again bit through the fabric of the dress. The young girls doubt seemed to have been blown away – or at least suppressed – as she caught poor Rosa between her hands and closed in on her in a wet, desperate kiss.

Michel thrashed fruitlessly at his ropes as the whiplash hit Emi again, forcing her to burrow deeper into her sister’s mouth. Rosa seemed frozen in front of her sister, eyes wide and mouth agape as her twin sister’s tongue brushed against hers in a clumsy, awkward kiss.

“So, poor Emi shouldn’t be the only one making an effort here. Return the kiss, Rosa.” To punctuate her words, she gave Emilie another merciless rap with the whip and the girl whimpered and sobbed into her sister’s mouth. As if in a trance, Rosa began to meet her sister’s tongue with her own and within seconds the two beautiful twins were in a sinful and sloppy kiss.

“Better. Much better.” Ariela’s voice was noticeably affected by the spectacle and she stroked her tight corset almost absent-mindedly. She fiddled with one of the strings, as if thinking about loosening her prison, as she walked around the bed with the whip in constant contact with Emi’s back. “I think I have a couple of truly sinful little sluts of twins in front of me, don’t you?” She put the end of the whip against Emi’s cheek and brought it softly over to Rosa’s. “Stop this shyness. It does not befit loving sisters. Touch each other. Run your hands over each other’s bodies. Prove how much you love each other.”

During the brief moment of hesitation, the whip managed to hit Emi once more, across the back, and soon the twin’s hands were wandering over Rosa’s body. Stroke the hip, waist and back. Massaged clumsily the soft skin. Rosa herself sobbed through her sister’s mouth, but soon followed.

“Damn me you bastard, what docile and well-mannered girls you have,” Geofran murmured in Michel’s ear. “I hope you are a proud father now, when you see how much they love each other.”

Michel didn’t even bother to answer. His inner spark was dying as he watched his daughters being forced deeper and deeper into Lady Armond’s perverted games. He suspected that her limits weren’t anywhere close to being reached.

With the end of the whip, she forced Rosa’s hand up, from Emi’s waist to the side of her toned bust. “Feel,” Ariela whispered. “Feel your sister’s wonderful orbs. Surely no other hand has been there before. You will always be the first to caress and squeeze young Emilie’s beautiful breasts.”

Rosa, caught in her fear, mechanically squeezed Emi’s bosom. The movements lacked emotion or skill, but Emi’s face turned red. She didn’t break the kiss, however, and before the young lady with the whip could even make the suggestion, she cupped Rosa’s breast with her palm and returned the awkward caresses.

Ariela let them continue like this for several minutes as she whispered words of encouragement into both girls’ ears. The warriors along the walls of the room were bewitched judging from the way they were twisting and adjusting their crotch.

Michel got a foreboding feeling and he began to fear what would happen when half a dozen conquering warriors could no longer restrain their desire.

Lady Armond hastily pulled her dagger from her belt and wrapped her hand around Emi’s hair, pulling her away from her sister’s mouth and forcing her neck back so her cleavage was clearly highlighted.

“This will not do! Two little sisters cannot be so shy and prudent when they have to prove their love to each other and to God.” Emi howled in horror and humiliation as Ariela’s dagger cut into the fabric of her dress, opening the neckline to reveal the blonde girl’s pale, well-toned breasts. With raw grip the lady detached the small pointed buds from the torn rags.

“Touch them, this time for real, Rosa!” Ariela hissed and the hoarse, intense voice made poor Rosa flinch and rush to put her hands on Emi’s naked breasts.

*Smack!* “AHHH!” Emi howled as the whip hit her bum once more. “Please, no more! I will do anything!”

*Smack!*

*Smack!*

*Smack!*

*Smack!*

*Smack!*

*Smack!*