Jessica Aldryn McLangly, Lady of the Hierarchy of the Moon, Daughter of Lord McLangly, was riding in the meadow that lay to the south of her estate, when Lance Corporal Roland came for her. She was by herself and already in a bad mood when she saw him. She pulled her mare to a stop and waited impatiently for him to come close enough to explain his presence. "Lady McLangly," He pulled up on the reins as he came along side her. "I�ve come here on official business from Princess Katherine Ryan�s Court. I�ve been asked to secure your cooperation in an important matter."

Jessica stared at the empty field, pointedly not acknowledging him as anything more than a tool of his mistress. It was a beautiful day. She looked across the sea of high grass to the forest, a few hundred yards away. It was a dark, tangled wood, interesting and treacherous. She thought of various, rather caustic replies she could make. Maybe, "Princess Katherine can bite me. . ." or, "I�d love to cooperate with Princes Katherine, but I�ve already promised to cat-sit for a friend. . ." But that would be a mistake. No matter what their history, Katherine was the Princess now and antagonizing her was out of the question. "What matter?" She asked, keeping her voice cold. "She has asked, in order to take her responsibilities seriously, that anyone with. . . personal knowledge of. . ." He hesitated. Still looking away, Jessica swallowed. No, she thought. No, it couldn�t be. . . She glanced at the soldier. He was young. Maybe a few years younger than her twenty, but he held himself with a professional and confidant bearing that she found attractive, despite herself. Relax, she told herself. It�s something else. "Violations of the Great Contract come to the court." He finished. Shit. That bitch wouldn�t! Jessica felt the sudden stab of fear in her chest. "What does this have to do with me?" His expression was almost apologetic. But it wasn�t. "She has asked that you testify under Compelled Oath about your knowledge of any such things. Her Court will be holding hearings this night, and I have been given a transportation spell to return us to her palace. You�re to dress for a formal audience and come with me immediately."

Oh, Mercy! Fear and fury rolled in Jessica�s stomach. She knew that the paleness of her face and the faint tremble of her hands would betray her, but she couldn�t help it. Think. . . Katherine knew, or she wouldn�t have risked Compelled Oath. And that meant the questions would be pointed and direct. And intolerable. "And if I am busy?" Roland met her gaze. "This is a request of the Princess, Lady. It wouldn�t be wise to deny it." "Very well. Then let�s return to the house so that I can change. This is an awful inconvenience." The complaining came easy and felt natural. She was certain that he might suspect but he did seem to relax when she turned her steed about and rode back toward the sprawling mansion. What? Go inside and slip out the back? No. Too risky. Loose him now, then. Ride like the devil and make for the trails. He might follow her into the wood, but he�d never find her in it. Of course, she�d be unable to return. At least for awhile. But that might give her a chance to bargain. Katherine, Princess Katherine now, would love the idea of her as a miserable fugitive. It didn�t matter. Anything was better than the Court. When the hill became steep and Roland fell back, she moved. Jessica dug her heels in and leaned forward. Her mare knew what to do, and she felt her gait become a gallop. "Lady Jessica!" He was further behind her, but when she looked back, he was coming up fast. She didn�t look back again. "Please! This is foolish, Mi�Lady," He yelled. Annoyed but also concerned. The chances of someone getting seriously hurt in a situation like this were not bad and although he wouldn�t be blamed he still, clearly, felt responsible. Screw him, she thought. The forest wasn�t far now. She kept her body low, gripping the animal�s flanks with her knees. Don�t think of the future, she told herself. Look ahead. Just get away. She heard him behind her. He was both a better rider and had a faster horse, but he was unwilling to simply ride up and take her. She was still a Lady. And she might get hurt. But it was clear that she�d have to be creative to loose him. Seconds later they entered the forest. Her horse knew the trail and his didn�t, but he was close enough to stay on her. She heard him curse, as branches, bent by her passing, whipped back at him. The forest was dark with a deep-green tint to it, and confusing. She would normally go straight, and come to a clearing, but not today. Jessica risked a look back, saw that he was, despite everything, still close, and turned sharply. The horse went but she didn�t. The world turned upside down as she fell. She didn�t even feel like she had hit something. She just felt numb and then scared. When she opened her eyes, Roland was beside her, kneeling in the tall grass. She was laying, with her head resting on his folded coat, looking up at him. They were still in the woods, and she couldn�t make out the expression on his face. "Do you hurt?" He asked. Ache? Yes. Everywhere. Hurt? No. She tried to sit up, but he didn�t let her. He directed her to move her arms and legs and neck, and when everything seemed to be in order then he helped her sit. Roland offered her water from a skin on his horse. "You�re lucky," He said. She looked away. The thrill of being alive and unhurt had faded quickly. She had been caught, and her pathetic escape attempt was going to be damning. Jessica realized that, for the first time in many years, she felt like crying. "I guess this means you�re guilty," He said as he put away the water. "It was nothing. Please! This is. . . this is a settling of old scores. It�s just political. Please let me leave, and I promise it won�t haunt you." At first he didn�t look at her. Then he did. Calmly. Matter-of-factly. She felt her hope dry up and crumble. "I can�t." "Just tell them I escaped! Please!" I can�t believe I�m begging him, she thought. Oh, Mercy! This was a nightmare, already.

His smile was very, very slight. "I�m afraid they�d never believe me." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Then his hand lowered and took hers. It was a very firm grip. "Come on, Mi� Lady." She let him lead her back to their horses but instead of mounting his steed, he took a coil of cord from his saddle bag. "What did you do?" He asked. Curious. Not even fascinated. Probably having a hard time believing that someone like her could be guilty of breaking the Great Contract. "I. . . I�ve been involved with Human�s dreams." He looked up. "Really?" "It was. . ." She sighed, exasperated. "It was nothing. Katherine did much worse when we were in school together!" "Princess Katherine," He corrected automatically. Then, "Nothing? Would the Enforcers have thought it was nothing if they�d caught you?" No. Of course not. It was dangerous and selfish and very, very bad. It was also incredible fun. She looked away. "I wouldn�t have gotten caught." "I can see you�re a master of escape. It sounds like you deserve this. What makes you think you�re being picked on?" He was weaving a noose. He took her right hand and then her left, and slipped them through the loop. He pulled it tight, and she felt her captured flesh press together. It was dark here, but she knew he could still see the blush. "You. . . you�re going to take me back to my house like this?" Her voice was very soft. She was thinking of what the servants would think when they saw their lady marched before them in disgrace. Her chin trembled at the very idea. "No, Mi�Lady. I�m going take you back to the Court like this. I�m afraid I�m not letting you out of my sight." Again, he was almost apologetic. Again, he wasn�t quite. And, she thought she detected the faintest trace of amusement in his manner. Mercy. . . Oh, please. . . don�t cry! Whatever you do, don�t cry. . . She swallowed and swallowed again. He lead her, walking slowly, holding the cord like a leash. "You can�t," She moaned, when she couldn�t take it any more. "I can�t appear before them like this! Not. . . oh, mercy. . ." He stopped. "You shouldn�t have tried to run away. Look, Mi�Lady, I�m sorry. I�m not trying to make things difficult for you. If you escape do you know what they�ll do to me?" She looked up. "They have a post in the Palace Garden where the Ladies of the Castle come to take tea. They�d tie me there, and provide little whips and nettles so that the women could make sport of me for a day or two. And then, maybe, they�d find something else to punish me with. I�m not going to risk that. You got yourself into trouble, now you will have to deal with it." He gave the cord a tug, and she followed him, mutely out into the sunlight. The horses had followed them. He sent hers home, and pulled his close. "The spell takes a few minutes. Then we�ll be back." She looked down at her boots and riding dress. Her face, utterly devoid of makeup. No jewelry. She felt ill with the idea that Lady Katherine would be so pleased to see her so humble. And tied! She wondered if the Princess had intentionally chosen a handsome guard to collect her. Probably. Anything to make her humiliation more poignant. She had to try again. "I. . . I knew Katherine at Finishing School," She said. "That�s what this is about." "Oh." But he was interested. And he believed her.

"She was popular. Everyone knew she�d be something spectacular. I don�t think anyone really thought she�d be a princess, but. . ." She shook her head. "I was a bit of a rebel. She and her friends could make my life miserable, but she couldn�t control me. She always resented that." Jessica looked away. Katherine had sent her an invitation to her coronation some months ago when it had finally become official. It had glittered and burned with a magical fire. Jessica had torn it up. "So that�s what this is about?" He asked. She nodded. "You�re in trouble, then." A little more silence. "I know," She said. "You�re not the first one they�ve tried. Did you know Andrea Connor?" Jessica looked over. "Andrea? Mercy. . . what did they. . ." "The same thing. Dream meddling." Shit. Oh, shit. . . She gulped. Andrea had been one of Katherine�s friends. But also a competitor. Jessica had found her far less vile than her associates. "What did they do to her?" "They�re still doing it," He said. "She was tried two days ago. Her sentence will last a year. For most of it she�ll be doing domestic work around the palace as a common servant but Katherine wanted her humiliated as part of her punishment. . ." "What?" She asked breathlessly. "Roland, what did they do to Andrea?" "You�ll see," He said. Then everything sparkled and changed. They were in the court.

It was a round chamber with high walls and stained glass windows. The floor was polished marble. The supports, that ran up to the pointed ceiling, were inlaid with gold leaf. Laid out like numbers on a clock, the Thrones sat at 12. They were intricate and magnificent beyond imagining. There was a worn rug for supplicants to kneel on. At three and nine, were the galleries, where the Counts and Countesses and Dukes and Duchesses would sit and observe. They were filled, and she had the impression of flowing robes and imperial dresses, but there was too much for her to take in for her to get the details. Behind her (although she didn�t look), was the entry way for people such as her, and the Great Hall. It was flanked by armored guards. There would be no more nonsense here. The architecture was designed to make a visitor feel very small, and it was remarkably effective. She looked up at the dizzying heights and the stone and the metal and the glass work, and she felt dwarfed. Under normal circumstances, it would have been gut-wrenching, but today, there was something that made it even worse. Beside each throne, at about eleven o�clock and one, there was an upright, wooden wrack in the shape of an �X.� They had shackles for the wrist and ankles. The one on the King�s side was unoccupied, and Jessica could see a short, smooth wooden dowel, protruding from the center of the �X� at slight angle. On the Queen�s side, she saw Andrea.

The girl was naked and mercilessly exposed: her breasts, her sex, everything! Jessica couldn�t imagine how long the girl had been there, but clearly she hadn�t become inured to the situation. She blushed down to her chest, and hid her crimson face against her arm. She shook with sobs of humiliation and wriggled ever so slightly because the dowel was tormenting her constantly. It would be, Jessica realized, inside her anus, causing an unending sensation of urgency, fullness, and violation. The Nixie, which is what they were, have their own strengths and weaknesses. They are sensuous beings whose senses are far more acute than humankind, magnifying everything for them, including pleasure and pain. They are also physically different. The females have wings that fold into their shoulders or expand until they are large enough to envelope them. The males have a tail. In both cases these �extra� organs are sensitive, private, and erogenous in the extreme. Finally, they Nixie betray their feelings.

When sufficiently aroused, the flesh that can receive sexual pleasure glows faintly. It is usually covered by clothing, and so hidden, but mistaken exposure could make feelings be quite embarrassing. Andrea glowed. Tied, as she was, there was no way she could hide the light that seemed to come from under the skin of her swollen nipples or through the soft fur of the mound of her sex. Her body shown with sweat and Jessica could see a fatigue upon her that came from hours of misery and humiliation. But not from pain. Katherine knew that too much physical discomfort would provide a welcome distraction from the indignity of her position. Ache and corporal punishment could always be applied later. Roland pulled her forward and hissed, in a whisper, "Kneel, Mi�Lady. And hang your head. If you don�t show proper respect it will be even worse!" Jessica knelt on the rug and looked down, grateful not to have the squirming image of Andrea before her anymore. It was horrible, and fascinating at the same time. How much would she have enjoyed such a sight if she were here on different circumstances? It would have been delightful. The Court was silent, waiting to hear her. "The words," Roland prompted. She knew them. She found them somewhere in her memory between which fork to use and what sort of gift to bring the hostess of a formal party. "I, Jessica Aldryn McLangly, thank Princess Katherine and the Court for allowing me to serve them most humbly." She swallowed. The words felt awful, as though she had to choke to say them. "I beg that you accept my offer of service and my eternal gratitude for your. . . gracious leadership and. . ." She was miserable. She knew her voice betrayed her distaste, and anger "magnanimous judgment," she finished. I will not cry. I will not beg. Oh, mercy. . . She wiped at her nose. Her knees were already hurting" the rug did not provide any protection from the cold, hard, marble floor. "Roland," The Princess�s voice was clear and familiar and filled with good humor, "What is the meaning of this? Bringing one of my dearest friends from school before the court in. . . common clothing and tied? Are you seeking a whipping, because I assure you, if punishment is what you desire, you need only ask. Unless your explanation is very good, you shan�t enjoy what you�ll receive for this." It was the same old Katherine. Mocking, playfully cruel and sure of her authority. Intolerable. "I beg the court�s forgiveness, and I throw myself upon your mercy, My Princess," Roland said, the tone of his voice making it clear he had nothing to be concerned about. "When I asked Lady Jessica to come with me, she felt she had more pressing business in the forest. I was unable to convince her of the importance of her testimony here, and so I must confess I forced her obedience. I submit to whatever punishment the Court feels appropriate." There was a burst of conversation. Some laughter. Some chatter. Jessica thought she recognized, perhaps a dozen voices. It was like a Finishing School reunion, she thought. Katherine let them talk for almost a minute before she silenced them. "Jessica," She said, and when addressed, Jessica looked up. It was required that you face the speaker. She couldn�t bring herself to meet Katherine�s eyes. "My Princess?" Her voice sounded like a quiet squeak in the vast chamber. "Is this true? Surely not! Deny it, and I will have this villain pilloried for a week and paddled thrice a day for the entertainment of the Court!" She thought of lying. The thought of Roland being punished appealed to her greatly, but it was really only a game. She stayed silent, trying to think of some way out of this, but finding nothing. Throw herself at Katherine�s feet, she decided. Beg. Supplicate yourself! But surely Andrea had done that and more, and it clearly hadn�t helped. Flee? Cry? She trembled. She wanted to stand up or at least shift position so her knees would stop hurting. But if this, this least of all discomforts, was too much for her to bare for five minutes, how would she bare being tied to a wrack such as the one Andrea languished on? She tried to imagine hours of such a fate, and couldn�t. It was unthinkable. "Well?" "I don�t deny it, Princess," She said softly. There was another erruption of voices. Exclamations of surprise. Titters of disapproval. Excited speculation about what this might mean. Jessica would have cried, and almost did, except she still couldn�t bring herself to give them the pleasure. But the pressure of the withheld tears settled in her stomach and made her feel weak and sick. She bit her lower lip and waited. Again, at a motion from the Princess, the court fell silent. "I am rather disappointed in you, Jessica. I�m afraid that by disobeying Roland in his official capacity, you have disobeyed me. You realize that this leaves me no choice but to punish you?" She wasn�t disappointed at all! She was ecstatic. When she had imagined bringing her old enemy before her she had probably never dreamed it would be this dramatic. Jessica covered her face with her hands and stifled a whimper. She wasn�t going to make it any more enjoyable for them! She wasn�t! She would be stoic and cool and. . . She felt her body shudder visibly with a silent, wracking sob. Snatches of conversation from the gallery reached her, �oh, the poor thing. . .� and, �she�ll be a very sorry young lady. . .� Their patronizing sympathy was a mortifying torment. �She�s going to get it worse than Lady Connor,� �I�m sure proper punishment will improve her greatly. . .� She heard Roland�s voice in her ear, "You must, Mi�Lady. The Princess is waiting." You must beg the court for punishment, he meant. His tone made it clear he knew how awful it was to be toyed with so, but he was also reminding her that, if she didn�t submit, they would do something even worse. She wished desperately she had the courage to defy them, like she had in school. But she didn�t. She was terrified of being humiliated the way Andrea had been. "I b-beg the. . . Court. . . discipline me for my. . ." She searched for words that would please them, "Disobedience," she finally said. It was the worst way to put it she could think of and she hoped that a display of humility might convince them to spare her. "The Court is always glad to grant your wishes," Katherine purred. "Roland, please take Jessica to a holding chamber. She�ll be testifying tonight, and I want her rested." She addressed Jessica then, "The Court will deliberate on your punishment. You may take comfort in the promise that it will be extremely educational for you, whatever we decide." She nodded and dismissed them. Roland helped her up and lead her away. She walked unsteadily, and her vision was blurred with tears, but as she left, she met Andrea�s eyes and shuddered.

The holding chamber was a jail cell with comfortable furniture. It had a heavy wooden door with a locking window on it so that the guards could look in. There was a bed and a chamber pot, and a water pump. The first thing she did was strip off her riding boots and message her feet. She knew she should rest, but she couldn�t. She also spent several minutes squatting above the pot before she gave up. The idea that, at any moment, someone might peek through the window was enough to insure nothing would happen. That also inhibited her from masturbating. The casual exposure of Andrea�s arousal had made a big impression on the Young Lady. She didn�t know if the girl had been. . . touched. . . or somehow stimulated (even the euphemisms gave her chills), but she was certain that if they chose the same fate for her, none of that would be necessary. Right now, despite everything, her nipples throbbed and glowed in the tight, protective confines of her riding bra. Her panties were wet with sweat from her morning exercise, but they were also stained with moisture from her sex. The court would love that, she thought. She paced the room, trying to think of something other than what she had seen and what awaited her. Sometimes she panicked, but without anything to do, the emotion just subsided. She wished she was able to cry. An eternity had passed and another eternity was beginning when there came a knock at the door and Roland opened it. She felt the blood leave her face, and her throat dried so that her voice was a quiet rasp. "Is it time?" She asked, tremulously. "Soon, Mi�Lady. But not yet. I came to see if you needed anything." He closed the door behind him and sat on the bed. Reaching under his tunic, he produced a metal flask. "It�s not very strong, but it tastes better than water," He offered it to her. Eyes wide and pathetically grateful for even this small comfort she took it and sipped. Wine, she thought. Wine from a metal flask. She drank again. More like grape cider, really. He hadn�t been kidding when he said it was weak. She sat on the bed and looked down at the floor. "Thank you, Lance Corporal Roland." "I don�t suppose you need me to tell you what kind of trouble I could get in for this," He said softly. She nodded. Then she looked at him. "Then why take the chance? What makes you think I won�t tell?" "I don�t know if you�ll tell or not. I wouldn�t do this if I felt it was immoral, and beyond that, I don�t care if it�s against the rules. You looked like you needed some comfort." Oh, Mercy, I�m going to cry on his shoulder, she thought. No. No, I won�t. I don�t care how good it would feel. I don�t care if all this tension and worry is going to make me nauseous . I�m not going to. . . She sniffled, and she felt him put his arm around her and draw her head against his chest. She pressed her hands against her mouth to muffle the sounds and shook with tears. She felt him pet her gently. "How did you get messed up in this?" He asked some minutes later when she was almost through. Actually, she was through, but it felt so good to be held that way that she remained there. "We all started in school. Once they taught us about the human realm and what sorts of things were possible, some of the girls started experimenting." "Experimenting?" "Entering human dreams. You�d feel out for a dream, and then ride into it." "What kind of dreams?" She blushed. "Any kind. I guess mostly. . ." "Erotic ones?" He guessed correctly. She nodded. Ashamed. "That was what Lady Connor confessed to," He told her. "But apparently Lady Connor was still doing it, even recently. And not only entering dreams but manipulating them." He sighed. "That would not be forgiven, if she were caught. And she confessed to using the spells to torment her sleepers. Giving them dreams about punishment and submission. I don�t think Princess Katherine would have been quite as harsh as she was if that weren�t the case." He waited in silence for her to respond. His hand kept stroking her hair, and down her back, and he held her tightly. "Well?" He asked, finally. "Well then I�m in trouble," She said. She spoke into his shirt so her voice was muffled and he almost couldn�t understand her. "I can�t say I feel that sorry for you. No offense, Mi�Lady." He didn�t let go of her though. He didn�t push her away. She looked up at him, "But I. . . I can�t bare this. I couldn�t bare it if they put me up there." "Correct me if I�m wrong, but isn�t that the point?" "Andrea�s used to this kind of crap! She was one of their. . . I don�t know. . . one of their little soldiers. I was always too proud to play their stupid games." She pulled away and moved to the edge of the bed. She sat, her chin in her hands, her elbows on her knees, and glared at the wall. "This isn�t fair!" He didn�t answer. After a moment she was afraid that she might have run him off, but when she glanced quickly over, she saw that, while he wasn�t agreeing with her, it still bothered him to see her miserable. "If you had let me go, I could have dealt with this on my own," She told him. He stood up. "It�s almost time and I need to get back to my post." He reached for his flask, "May I?" She gave it to him without looking at him. She felt him take it, and the urge to throw her self on him and cry and beg that he spirit her out of here flared within her. She was only barely able to control it. But he didn�t leave. "I wanted to say that I know this isn�t going to be pleasant for you, but I sincerely hope that you learn something from it. Whatever that might be. I. . . I believe you might need it. And, I promise to help you in any way that�s proper and allowed." Silence. He waited for any response, and when she didn�t give one he turned and left, locking the door behind him. Alone then, she did cry, face down on the bed, sobbing into the pillow. She reveled in the feelings of misery and abandonment, and self pity. When a knock came again, it was Roland, his face expressionless, the kindness he had shown her before hidden behind his professional facade. There were two armored guards with him, and they escorted her out into the hall. Thus, it was, with her face stained with tears, her voice broken from hours of sobbing, and barefoot, that she was marched before the Princess�s Court.

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