"As time passed by, I craved it. I couldn't live without it. When he died, no one dared touch the emperor's mother. Who would? The grand healer, though… he was different. A friend to nobles, even to my husband. I resisted my sexual desires for a time, But When he approached me, I gave in. That night, he fucked me until dawn. He filled my cunt forty-four times, my asshole fifty-nine, my mouth twenty-nine. I came over a hundred times—I stopped counting after that. His medicine paste restored my holes, tightening them like a virgin's. And since he's infertile, there was no risk of children."
Joana's jaw dropped, her face a mix of shock and disbelief.
How could she endure that?
She thought, her expression twisting. Fuckedby her husband's friend?
Ariyana coughed, clearing her throat, her blush deepening. "I share this with you because I can't tell anyone else. If I spoke of it in the palace, my reputation would crumble. The other noble ladies know what I do at his place, but they stay silent. They're in the same game. Since you found out, I thought… why not confide in you?"
Joana sat speechless, her mind a storm of horror and fascination. She didn't know what to say, but the weight of Ariyana's confession settled on her like a stone.
Joana sat silently, her hands twisted in her lap. The queen mother's words lingered in the air, raw and unfiltered, exposing a side of the palace Joana had only glimpsed in shadows.
Her mind churned with the image of the sisters' ruined bodies, their screams echoing in her memory. A question burned on her tongue, too insistent to swallow. She lifted her gaze, her voice trembling but resolute. "Did you… also, take that special service? The extreme one?"
Ariyana paused, her teacup halfway to her lips. Her eyes flickered with something—shame, perhaps, or defiance—before she set the cup down with a soft clink. "Yes," she admitted, her voice low. "I was curious like most noblewomen are at some point. But I never took that service again. Just normal fucking…" She coughed, a faint flush coloring her cheeks. "As normal as it could get."
Joana's face twisted, a mix of horror and morbid fascination. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What… what did he do to you?"
Ariyana leaned back, her expression distant, as if peering into a memory she'd buried deep. "It was years ago, not long after my husband's death. I'd already been visiting the grand healer for his usual services—his endless stamina, his ability to fill me until I couldn't think. But the noblewomen whispered about his 'special' sessions, the ones reserved for those who craved more than pleasure. I thought I could handle it. I was wrong."
She paused, her fingers tracing the edge of the table, her voice steady but laced with an edge of pain. "He took me to a private chamber, not his usual room. He bound my wrists with leather straps, tight enough to bruise, and hoisted me onto a wooden frame, my legs spread wide, my body exposed.
I thought I knew pain from my husband's rough nights, but this was different. He started with a whip—not the soft leather ones used in play, but a thin, braided cord studded with tiny metal barbs. Each lash tore at my thighs and breasts, the barbs catching my skin, leaving welts that throbbed like fire. I screamed, begged him to stop, but he only smiled, his eyes gleaming with that cold, detached hunger."
Joana's breath hitched, her hands clenching tighter. Ariyana continued, her voice unwavering. "He then fucked my bloody pussy raw...like a beast, he filled me until I lost consciousness.
But his raw pumping in my asshole woke me up....it was the only part that I enjoyed somewhat. But he fucked my ass too raw....
Then he brought out a device—a metal rod, thick and ridged, heated just enough to burn without burning. He pushed it into my cunt, slow and deliberate, the heat searing my insides. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that made my vision blur. I thrashed against the straps, my screams echoing, but he held it there, twisting it, forcing me to feel every ridge. My pussy stretched around it, the walls spasming, trying to push it out, but he was relentless. He then fucked my ass and filled it 4 times, all this while that device was burning my pussy.
When he finally removed it, I thought the worst was over. It wasn't."
Ariyana's eyes darkened, her voice dropping lower. "He coated his hands in some slick, bitter oil and forced one into my asshole—no warning, no preparation. My hole was tight, even after his brutal pumping, but he didn't care.
He pushed past the resistance, his knuckles grinding against my insides, stretching me until I felt like I'd split. The pain was raw like my body was being torn apart, and I sobbed, my voice breaking. He twisted his fist deeper until I felt something give—a sickening pop inside me. Then he added a second hand to my cunt, stretching both holes at once, his fingers clawing at my walls. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, only scream as my body became a thing, not a person."
Joana's face paled, her stomach churning. "What… what happened to your body?" she whispered, dreading the answer.
Ariyana's lips tightened, her gaze distant. "My holes were ruined. My pussy gaped like a cavern, the walls torn and raw, pulsing with pain. A little blood trickled out, staining my thighs, but it was the stretch that horrified me—the way it hung open, unable to close, like a wound that wouldn't heal. My asshole was worse, a stretched, pulsating mess, the muscles shredded, leaking yellowish filth I couldn't control.
Every movement was agony, my pelvis aching as if my bones had shifted. My breasts and thighs were crisscrossed with welts, the skin swollen and tender. I couldn't walk for days and could barely sit without crying. The healer's medicine paste eventually tightened my holes, restored them to a virgin's state, but the memory of that damage… it never left me."
She exhaled, her voice softening. "After that, I never took the special service again. Just simple pumping, two times a month, sometimes only once. It's enough to state the need without breaking me."
Joana sighed, her shoulders slumping. The queen mother had bared her soul, shared a secret that bound them in a way Joana hadn't expected. But now what? The knowledge felt like a weight, a chain linking her to Ariyana's hidden world. She didn't know how to carry it, how to live with the images of torn bodies and brutal acts seared into her mind. Her own body, still tingling from her forbidden release in the bath, felt like a traitor, mocking her with its unwanted arousal.
Ariyana studied her, her expression softening. "You're wondering what to do now," she said as if reading Joana's thoughts. "You don't have to do anything. Secrets like these… they're part of the palace. You carry them, and you live. You've seen the truth of what we are—noblewomen, mothers, whores in our own way. Just do your part in the palace and stay alive."
Joana nodded slowly, though uncertainty gnawed at her. She thought of Jaehaerys, her son, sleeping peacefully in his cradle. He was her anchor, her reason to keep moving forward. The palace was a labyrinth of secrets, but she could navigate it for him. She had to.
Ariyana rose, smoothing her gown. "Go back to your son," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And keep this between us. Not for my sake, but for yours. The court devours those who speak too freely."
Joana stood, her legs unsteady but her resolve hardening. "I will," she said, meeting Ariyana's gaze. "Thank you… for trusting me."
Ariyana's lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. "Trust is a rare thing here. Don't waste it."
Joana left the chamber, the weight of the conversation settling into her bones. As she walked through the corridors, the palace felt different—its opulent walls hiding a thousand unspoken truths.
Joana glanced at the tall pillar in the harem's center. A century ago, an emperor caught a concubine pleasuring herself with a dildo. He buried her alive inside the pillar, a brutal warning. That day, self-pleasure became forbidden in the harem, a rule still enforced with fear.
"There are a lot of secrets in the imperial palace." She sighed.
She reached her chambers and found Jaehaerys still asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling. She sat beside his cradle, her hand resting on his soft blanket, and let out a long breath.
The grand healer's world, the noblewomen's desires, Ariyana's scars—they were part of the tapestry she now lived in. She didn't want that world, didn't want to crave the pain or the ruin, but she couldn't unsee it. All she could do was protect her son, guard her own secrets, and survive. The palace would demand nothing less.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across her room, Joana closed her eyes. The screams of the sisters, the echo of Ariyana's confession, faded into the quiet rhythm of Jaehaerys's breathing.
For now, that was enough.