Free The Tournament by Scarlett Vora

"She is equal to all."  
    The courtiers ranged widely in age and attractiveness, but all of them were bored. And they were not alone: for the first time, Ruby saw the royal concubines. They moved among the courtiers with languid grace, beautiful and sensual and proud.
    "There are more of the concubines than there are of us," said Ruby to the other two aspirants.
    "And they are more beautiful than we," said Petal, a curvaceous blonde.
    "But I suck better cock," said Onyx, a dark-skinned beauty.  
    Though Ruby counted a half-dozen concubines, that left many men unattended. She approached those, hoping they'd accept her attentions, but three in a row pretended not to see her. A fourth offered her a pill, which she refused.  
    When Petal received the same offer, she was quick to swallow it.
    "Do I please you?" Petal asked. Her pupils dilated, swallowing her pale irises, and she stroked her bare breasts, round and ripe. "Do you want me now?"  
    "I want you to imagine that a stallion has mounted you," said the courtier, a slim, sharp-chinned man with a thin mustache on his upper lip. He reclined in a comfortable armchair. "The stallion thinks that you are a mare, but you are not. You are only a woman, forced to bear his rutting."  
    Petal flushed, and then began to scream. "No! It hurts!" She clutched her pussy. "Make it stop! I'll die!"  
    "Now it is a dragon inside of you," said the courtier, "and his cock is like a spiked mace."
    Ruby froze.  
    "Imagine those spikes tearing you apart," said the courtier. "The dragon is lusty, and holds you tight with sharp talons."
    The dragon had not been lusty. He had been cold. And he'd held her with elegant hands the color of dried blood, not talons. But Ruby held her tongue. She would not give this foul courtier her knowledge.  
    Petal fell to the floor, clutching her pussy with both hands. She wept, her face turning an ugly red, and curled into a ball.  
    Nobody came to her aid. Even Ruby hesitated. If she walked the girl back to the Pavilion, or even to a servant, she might fail the Trial.  
    "See something you like?" said the courtier, fingering the lacing of his breeches.
    Ruby dropped down on her knees next to Petal. "You are lying on the floor," she whispered. "You feel calm and peaceful. You are unhurt, and nobody is touching you."  
    The girl's sobbing slowed to a halt and she calmed, but her blotchy face shaded redder, washed with shame.  
    "I failed," she cried. "I failed!"  
    Ruby helped her to her feet.
    "What's wrong with you?" Petal shouted at the courtier, unsteady on her feet. "Why would you say those things to me?"  
    "Petal," said Ruby, "do you want to rest? Maybe find something to eat."  
    "She's done," said the nasty courtier. "Nobody will touch her after that display."  
    "I don't want to fuck you," said Petal. "You think we come here because you're so handsome, or so hot? Show me your cock and I'll tell you what I really think of it!"  
    "Go home, girl." The courtier sneered. "Back where you belong."  
    "This is for me ," said Petal, touching her cunt. She turned her back on the courtier and slapped her ass, making the firm white flesh jiggle. "And this is what I think of you!"
    Petal marched out of the room. Ruby wondered how she'd feel when the drugs wore off—terrible, most likely. Even though she'd spoken the truth.
    "Now you have me all to yourself," said the courtier to Ruby, his tone mocking. "Come, show me how hot you are."
    "So hot," said Ruby, suppressing her fury. She cupped her breasts and pinched the nipples until they beaded. She smoothed her hands along her ribs to rub at her flat stomach and hips, outlining her shape. "I ache for you."  
    The courtier parted his knees. "Come a little closer."
    Ruby stepped between his knees.  
    "Put your leg up on the arm of my chair," he ordered.
    Ruby raised her heel up onto the arm of his chair, displaying her cunt for him. He dragged a finger through her folds, a fleeing expression of surprise