Barbaria Act 1 Epilogue
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Main Narrative
It was late afternoon before Princess Venetia returned to her Throne Room. By then Xena had been suspended for eight hours. Twice an Overseer, appointed for the purpose, had noted she had fainted. Xena had been lowered, revived and raised again. She was near to fainting again when Venetia entered. It did not seam possible to Xena that the muscles in her arms, legs and back could stand the terrible strain even moments longer. She realised she was defeated (for the moment anyway) and that she would have to submit (temporarily) to this monstrous woman who (somehow) had managed to conquer her City and take her captive. She must bide her time and await the moment when she could take her revenge. Still she swung up near the ceiling. The woman seemed in no hurry to have her brought down. She was chatting idly to someone who was probably one of her Lady Courtiers.
Blind fury raged in Xena’s heart. Her utter impotence to do anything was like a knife going through her heart. She raged in silence, just occasionally whimpering with pain and the knowledge of what she was going to have to make herself do. It was intolerable! Utterly, utterly intolerable! Yet it was a fact...
Still Xena swung in torment and waited and waited. Waited upon the whim of the woman who sat, gold-clad, upon her Throne. A half hour later, Venetia signalled that Xena was to be lowered. Though her classically beautiful features were calm and impassive, she was glowing inside with sadistic pleasure. She had little doubt about that, this time, the ex-Ruler of Barbaria would submit. Only in a minor way, of course, but it would be a submission all the same... and each and every submission from Xena was going to be an occasion of delight. Groaning feebly, Xena settled on the marble floor... and slumped. The relief to her burning muscles was beyond all description, yet they were still a torment. In the back of her mind she knew, too, that this Venetia woman, who now occupied her Throne, would not have the slightest compuction about raising her up again if she did not submit as required.
I MUST do it, Xena told herself. I must MAKE myself do it, whatever the cost. Always remember, your day of revenge will come. In her heart, she knew it was a forlorn hope to hang on to. But it was something.
“Unshackle her,” came Venetia’s orders. Overseers removed Xena’s wrist and ankle manacles. She lay twitching on the floor. She was sweating, sheer effort and pain had made her sweat.
“Kneel up,” came the next order. It was a tremendous effort to do so, both mental and physical. Xena managed it, hating herself and hating this woman before her beyond all imagining.
“Hands on top of your head, girl. Surely you know the correct posture for a slave?” Venetia smiled softly as rage surged through Xena. The terms ‘girl’ and ‘slave’ were cruel jibes directed directly at her.
“I thought you might have learnt a lesson... but it seems not...“ Xena knew what would come next. Crying out with pain from her aching biceps, Xena placed her hands on top of her head.
“Just in time, slave,” said Venetia. “I do not think you would have enjoyed another eight hours in suspension.” The very idea made Xena feel as weak as water. It would be an unbearable ordeal. Yes... yes... for all her royal background and breeding, she must, for the time being, make herself submit. So Xena knelt there, superb breasts firm and high, enhanced by her uplifted arms, slim-waisted, longthighed... a real beauty... one whose features twitched with the awful effort she had to make to endure this humbling.
“Now, slave,” said Venetia evenly, “we shall resume where we left off. If you do not obey me... even if you are too slow to obey me... you will go back into suspension.” Venetia smiled slightly, condescendingly. “Is that clearly understood?” Xena’s answer rattled in her throat. It came out as a kind of ‘yes’.
“You address me as ‘Highness,’ slave. Always. Do so.”
“Y-Y-Yes... sis... H-Highness...” squeaked Xena, wanting to scream in defiance. But, of course, not daring to do so.
“Very well, slave, you will now crawl forward and kiss the toe of my boot. Just the toe. It will be a symbol of your submission to me. CRAWL ...”
Xena ground her teeth; her features were contorted. Would not death be preferable? But she knew she would not get the benison of death. She would merely bring upon herself more anguish and torments. Then, in the end, she would still have to submit. For her part, Venetia was well aware of the dramatic mental struggle going on within her captive. She revelled in it; it was meat and drink to her. Then, quite simply, she raised one finger towards the Overseer...
A great burst of heaving breath came from Xena. It was filled with the bitterest of bitter despair and the knowledge of defeat. She bent forward, placing her hands on the floor, and then began to crawl slowly towards Venetia. Even in that moment of cruel submission, she could still scarcely believe she was doing it. Naked and crawling in her own Throne Room... Crawling to the feet of a conqueror... Unimaginable horror... But actually happening. Xena came to the dais on which the Throne was set. Through a shimmer of tears she saw the golden tip of the pointed boot. She paused, gathering the last remnants of her will She HAD to do it! Her lips pressed to the toe, then quickly withdrew. It is just a stupid gesture, she told herself. In truth it means nothing.
“Keep your lips pressed to my boot,” ordered Venetia harshly. This was a most wonderful moment for her. Open, unadulterated submission from the so-called ‘ruler of the world’. She watched, lips parting, breath coming a little faster, as Xena’s lips came back to the toe of her boot and remained there. By the Gods, what that must have cost her, she thought! Perhaps a minute ticked away. Venetia saw Xena shuddering. The effort to maintain this act of submission must have been tremendous. She had excellently swelling haunches, she realised. I shall enjoy dealing with those, in good time, she thought.
“Kneel up, slave,” ordered Venetia. Xena did so with a sobbing sigh of utter despair. Venetia smiled at her condescendingly.
“This young lady, now seated on my right hand side, is a member of my Court. Doubtless you recognise her?” Xena’s eyes shimmered fearfully to the figure beside Venetia. Then she focussed... and let out a gasp of dismay. IT WAS FLAVIA! Flavia, whom she had kept as her personal slave for so long... and whom she had treated with the most callously cruel heartlessness. It was a terrible moment to be thus confronted with the figure which now seemed from another age. Flavia’s features were stony and her blue eyes as cold as ice. A shiver of dread went through Xena. What mercy could she expect there? None... None... None...
“You will kiss the toe of Lady Flavia`s shoe... just as you have done mine,” said Venetia. Xena did so with some alacrity, keeping her lips pressed there. The re-appearance of Flavia in this dominating role had quite unnerved her. Oh the world was upside down and spinning- spinning her into the most devilish of depths!
“That will do, slave,” said Venetia. Xena removed her mouth but remained with head bent. She could not bring herself to look upon her one-time slave.
“Kneel erect, girl,” Xena did so. “You have forgotten about your hands, slave,” said Venetia complacently. “If you forget again, I shall have you whipped.” Whipped! WHIPPED! It was something which Xena had not actively considered before. Such a thing had not seemed remotely possible. Yet now she realised, in hideous, total shock, that it WAS quite possible. This woman could have her whipped. WHIPPED! And she... SHE... once the all- powerful Ruler of Barbaria! With a gasping cry of despair at this sudden realisation, Xena placed her hands on top of her head. She was trembling with the effort required to control herself. And with fear. Xena was not accustomed to being afraid. It was something outside her previous way of life. Now she knew how truly awful it was. She saw Venetia looking down on her disdainfully. Possessively. Gloatingly. Oh how she hated her! A rictus-like spasm ran over her features, momentarily distorting them. It was clear evidence of the terrifying strain she was under. Venetia decided to put on the pressure.
“You know that you address me as Highness, slave. Yes?”
“Y-Yes...” the reply was high-pitched... and there was a long pause. “Highness...” said Xena in a whisper.
“Louder!”
“Yes... yes... Highness...” Xena made herself say in a louder voice. This could not last. This simply could not go on. She would be driven mad. Xena, of course, except by observation, was not yet aware of the extensive limits to which a human being could be mentally and physically pressed.
“And you address Lady Flavia as My Lady. Do so.” Xena’s voice croaked as she spoke.
“M-My Lady...” she forced herself to say. Flavia’s features remained as stony as ever, her eyes just as ice-like. If anything, Xena was more in terror of her than she was of Venetia. She recalled some of the appalling things she had done to her... and had made her do. Oh... if only she could turn back the clock! Too late. Far too late. Now Venetia was speaking again.
“Slave,” she said, “I am going to outline what I have in mind for you. You are rather a special sort of slave, so you will be treated specially. Most specially.” Venetia smiled benignly. “I know you don’t believe this at the moment... never mind... but I must tell you I am going to make you into the most abject submissive slave imaginable. Beyond that, you will be an ADORING slave. When I have finished with you, you will be LONGING to please me. WHIMPERING with pleasure at doing so. That will be the depths of your servitude, slave. And, here we are, just at the beginning of it.” Venetia turned to Flavia. “Do you approve, my dear?”
“Very much,” said Flavia. Xena quivered with dread.
“From time to time,” continued Venetia, “I shall GIVE her to you... to amuse yourself with.”
“Thank you, Highness,” said Flavia. A little gleam of pleasure came into those icy blue eyes. Xena could scarcely believe what she was hearing. She... an ADORING slave? She... LONGING to please? She... WHIMPERING with pleasure at doing so? She... being GIVEN to Flavia? The world had gone mad. She began to tremble uncontrollably. “What do you think of her?” enquired Venetia of Flavia.
“I loathe her,” came the prompt reply. “Of her body, I mean.” Flavia surveyed the naked figure before her, even though she knew that sumptuously curvaceous body well. “Fit to be used by slaves,” said Flavia contemptuously.
“Oh, she will be,” smiled Venetia. Xena almost broke. She was teetering on the verge of her selfcontrol. They are just saying this... to frighten me... to force me into some foolish move. Well, I won’t do it. I have more sense than that. Let these imbeciles play their little games. In her heart... at root... she was still a Princess. That was something to give her grace and strength. Something they could not defeat. Venetia began to speak again.
“Tomorrow, slave,” she said, “I am going to punish you. For defying me. I am going to do so personally. Which is something rare for me.” She smiled slightly. “So you should consider that something of an honour.” Xena twitched convulsively... just hanging on to her self-control. “I am going to flog you soundly... and you deserve it ...” continued Venetia.Xena twitched again, even more convulsively. She did not believe what this woman was saying. She was bluffing; trying to frighten her. The Ruler of Barbaria could not be flogged! It was impossible. Too outrageous!
“I may even get Lady Flavia to assist me,” said Venetia. A cry of despairing protest burst from Xena. “Is there something the matter, slave?” asked Venetia archly. “You object possibly at the idea of Lady Flavia flogging you, eh? You are foolish, girl. There is no one in the world more justified than she in flogging you.”
Another despairing protest came from Xena. But, this time, on account of the truth of the statement. Tears began to trickle down Xena’s proud features... those high cheekbones... that full, wide mouth, that long aquiline nose. They dropped from her chin on to her uplifted breasts. She was lost... lost... lost...
“Well, we shall see,” said Venetia patronisingly. “That remains for another day. Meanwhile, before I have you taken away, I have some other news for you. It will give you something to think about during the night in your solitary little cell. Not too uncomfortable, I hope?”
Xena shivered. The thought of going back there was intolerable. But she was powerless.
“I am having a cage made for you,” stated Venetia calmly. “A wooden cage.” Xena looked startled. What new devilry was this?
“It is on wheels,” continued Venetia, “and it has been designed to be pulled by six of your ex- ladies-in-Waiting. You, slave, are going to be put in that cage... and then dragged round your former City. You will be as naked as you are now and on display to all your former citizens. I do not think there will be many who will regret your downfall.”
“Oooh... oooh... no...” murmured Xena involuntarily. The idea was like a dagger slicing into her vitals. Oh how could this possibly be done to her?
“That will be the first day,” went on Venetia “Subsequent days will be more entertaining. Certainly for your citizens. Maybe for you, who knows? For in the cage with you will be a dozen of your ex-male slaves. They will, of course, be able to do whatever they like with you!” Xena’s eyes rolled back. The end of the line had been reached. With a long moaning-groan of abysmal despair, she slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
“Take her away,” ordered Venetia, with an airy wave of her hand. At once Xena was dragged slithering across the marble floor and out of sight. To her cold, cruel cell.
“Bring wine, slaves. Cold sparkling wine. Lady Flavia and I have a little celebrating to do! What do you think of my little plan?” asked Venetia.
“I think it is absolutely wonderful,” cried Flavia. Her blue eyes were sparkling, joy suffused her face. She just couldn’t remember when she had felt happier. The idea of Xena being ravaged again and again, in a cage, in font of her former subjects, was like one of her wildest dreams come true. What a fate! But, by the Gods, she deserved it! Wine was brought, poured into goblets by respectful slaves, toasts were offered. The future did indeed look rosy.
Later in the day, Venetia had Xena brought back to the Throne Room.
“Kneel,” came the command. Xena knelt grudgingly, then placed her hands on top of her head. “The next time I have you brought to me,” continued Venetia, “You will kneel without receiving an order. If you do not, you will be whipped.” WHIPPED! Again that awful word. Xena shuddered. She realised this was not simply an idle threat.
“Bring in the equipment,” ordered Venetia. Six female Overseers left the room and returned shortly bearing a kind of curving bench. Also a razor and a small brazier by which lay some long needles attached to little wooden handles. Xena`s dark eyes looked at these objects with undisguised horror. She KNEW! She knew what was going to happen! Her whole being seemed to recoil from the very idea. It was impossible! They could not do this to HER! She was of Royal blood.
“Put her on the bench,” ordered Venetla. The six Overseers moved forward instantly. Xena tried to rise and run but was immediately overwhelmed. Kicking and struggling, she was carried to the bench. Her wrists were manacled to one end of it and then her head was clamped into a kind of half-cage which left her features exposed but quite immobilised. A broad belt secured her waist. Finally her lovely long limbs were spread wide, with the ankles shackled. All the time, Xena was whimpering softly.
“No... no... no... no... no... not me... no... no... no... not me ...” Venetia rose from her Throne and smiled seraphically down at her helpless victim.
“You know what is going to happen to you, of course.”
“No... nooo... no... not me... I... am... a Princess... not me... no... no... no ...” went on Xena as she shuddered uncontrollably. Her eyes were wide and imploring. Venetia went on smiling.
“Correction,” she said. “You WERE a Princess. Now you are a slave. And, as you know, girl, all slaves are shaven and pierced.”
“N-NOOO... SPARE ME THAT!” Xena’s voice was now loud and urgent. Her utter helplessness was bringing her to the fringes of panic.
“As I said before,” went on Venetia smoothly, “you are a special case. So, just as when I come to flog you, I shall deal with you personally...”
„N-NOOOOOOO!”
“So you must think yourself honoured.” Venetia bent over Xena. “You do don’t you?” she asked.Xena, frenzied with fear and fury, gathered what little spittle she had in her mouth and spat at Venetia’s face. Venetia moved slightly but quickly. She had seen what was coming and was not touched. Venetia smiled more broadly.
“My... my... slave, you’ll pay for that. And pay dearly!” Xena closed her eyes in despair. In one way, she was pleased by her act of defiance; in another, she was terrified by what she had done. For she knew, if the positions had been reversed, how she would have reacted.
“Push a leather bolster under her buttocks,” she heard Venetia ordering, “I want her belly nicely raised up. Then I shall shave this once-Royal cunt.”
Personal Narrative Fabius
It was incredible to see the former Princess Alexena treated thus. Never had I imagined any such thing would have been remotely possible. Once I had been in mortal terror of her, obeying her every whim, cringing and grovelling before her. Now she was helpless and being treated as a slave. I was glad... GLAD! Yet in my heart, my own situation had not changed one iota. I had simply exchanged one dictatorial Mistress for another. I would cringe and grovel equally before this conquering Princess Venetia. Perhaps even more so than before. Since, I sensed, the depths of cruelty in her were deeper even than those of Princess Alexena. Or Xena, as I must now call her. After all, look what she had done to the male Courtiers. Was that not the vilest act? To suffer execution was one thing. Perhaps an honourable thing. But to be castrated first... I watched as Princess Venetia picked up the razor. Her features were as steely as the blade itself. An Overseer soaped the pubic mound and then the blade was put to work. All the time, Xena was moaning and shuddering. I could imagine the depths of her shame. What an indignity for such a woman! But, I knew, worse was yet to come. Princess Venetia worked deftly and quickly. Soon Xena’s pussy was exposed hairless. That made her look even more naked than she already was. I saw that it was a sumptuously swelling mound, the pink-pouting sex lips beautifully formed.
“There,” said Princess Venetia, almost to herself, “that’s better. A lot better.” She looked around and her eyes fell on me. A tremor of dread went through me.
“You, come here,” she ordered. I approached at once and knelt. “What do you think of this ex-Royal cunt?” she enquired. What could I say?
“It... it seems... well... Highness... it seems...” I began to stammer.
“Tempts you, does it?”
“Yes, highness,” I admitted.
“Makes you feel you’d want to fuck this slave, does it?” I saw Xena’s eyes open; they were filled with degradation and dread.
“Y-Yes... Highness...” I admitted again. “Well... yes... I suppose it would.” She signed to an Overseer.
“Remove his restrainer,” she snapped. My leather pouch was unlocked and fell away. I felt a certain shame that I was already in erection.
“Mmmmm... quite well hung, I see.” There was disgust in the eyes of Xena at the sight of me. “Well, slave,” continued Princess Venetia, “You have my permission to gaze at this ex-Royal cunt and, while you are doing so, you will masturbate.” I was startled but quickly got hold of myself... not only because it was an order but because I wanted to. Never had I imagined that I would ever catch so much as a glimpse of Princess Alexena’s intimate secrets.
“However, I do not permit any male slave unalloyed pleasure,” continued Princess Venetia, “you will be thrashed while you are doing it.” Another sign and two Overseers advanced, each bearing a slim willow rod. My hand moved faster. It would not be sensible to delay the outcome of this enforced exercise. I looked at that exposed mound and imagined myself fucking Xena. I had become very hard and my lust was beginning to surge more strongly. Meanwhile at regular intervals, the rods were falling across my buttocks. Thus I gasped with pain as well as pleasure. Xena was regarding me with a mixture of loathing and contempt. But it wasn’t my fault, surely?
Faster... yet faster. I had to get it over with. Only then would the rods cease to bite. I mounted... I mounted. Higher... higher. I began to groan and my knees started to tremble. I was nearly there. Nearly... nearly... Then I erupted, crying out as I did so. I sank down to my knees and only then did the rods cease to fall.
“Clean up this disgusting mess,” ordered Princess Venetia. A female slave in attendance hurried to obey. Meanwhile my pouch was replaced and locked on again. My few moments of ‘pleasure’ were over. I remained kneeling close to Xena’s shuddering body. Now it was so difficult to think that she had once been the mighty Princess Alexena.
“Heat the needles,” ordered Princess Venetia. A low moaning groan came from Xena. It was almost impossible not to feel sorry for her... until one remembered how many countless times she had had this done to captive slave-girls. The needles glowed red and Princess Venetia picked up one of them and came to the bench. Xena spoke in a low, trembling voice.
“I... beg you not to... to disfigure me. Highness,” she said. Princess Venetia smiled graciously.
“This will not disfigure you, slave,” she said. “It will make you look prettier when you have a ring through your nose.” An Overseer raised the nostril so that the centre part protruded slightly. The red-hot needle jabbed swiftly and accurately. There was a brief smell of burning flesh and Xena screamed loudly. The needle was withdrawn.
“There,” said the Princess, “nothing to it really.” She spoke as the doctor might to a patient. Xena sobbed weakly. She must have known she was facing defeat. These were her first steps down the long, sloping path to total servitude.
“Now these pretty nipples,” said Princess Venetia, taking up another needle. “They will look pretty, too, when they are ringed. Quite large, aren’t they?”She tweaked one of them and Xena whimpered. The nipples were indeed quite large and a light brown in colour, as were the perfectly formed aureoles. Princess Venetia pulled on the nipple she held, extending it slightly. Xena’s eyes closed in despairing horror. Then the needle plunged again. The smell of more burning flesh... and an even louder scream from Xena. Tears were now running down her pale, aquiline cheeks. I felt no pity. Had she not been pitiless herself? Princess Venetia took another needle and repeated the process on the second nipple. Another wailing shriek; more burning flesh.
“Put in ‘sleepers’,” ordered the Princess. These were little wooden pegs which ensured that the holes just made did not fill in again while the flesh was healing. The pegs were pushed in by Overseers with Xena whimpering again.
“And now,” said the Princess, “for that most sensitive little piece of flesh of all.” She was smiling almost mischievously when she returned with the final glowing needle.
“NOOO... OOOOOO!” Xena cried out in an abject pleading voice.
“Oh yes... oh yes indeed.” said Princess Venetia. Then Xena’s clitoris was produced and the needle, now nearly white-hot, pierced it firmly. A terrible cry of pain and despair rose up. The final ‘sleeper’ was put in place. Princess Venetia returned to her Throne... and I saw a look of the utmost satisfaction on her serene features.
“Take her away,” she ordered. Xena was released from the bench and carried like a carcass from the chamber. “Ring her tomorrow evening,” continued the Princess, “then bring her back. It is my intention to give her a really sound flogging.” She smiled at Flavia alongside her, “With the help of Lady Flavia, of course.” I saw Flavia’s eyes alight with joy. She had once been a slave alongside me. I could understand how keenly she was looking forward to revenge!
It was late afternoon before Princess Venetia returned to her Throne Room. By then Xena had been suspended for eight hours. Twice an Overseer, appointed for the purpose, had noted she had fainted. Xena had been lowered, revived and raised again. She was near to fainting again when Venetia entered. It did not seam possible to Xena that the muscles in her arms, legs and back could stand the terrible strain even moments longer. She realised she was defeated (for the moment anyway) and that she would have to submit (temporarily) to this monstrous woman who (somehow) had managed to conquer her City and take her captive. She must bide her time and await the moment when she could take her revenge. Still she swung up near the ceiling. The woman seemed in no hurry to have her brought down. She was chatting idly to someone who was probably one of her Lady Courtiers.
Blind fury raged in Xena’s heart. Her utter impotence to do anything was like a knife going through her heart. She raged in silence, just occasionally whimpering with pain and the knowledge of what she was going to have to make herself do. It was intolerable! Utterly, utterly intolerable! Yet it was a fact...
Still Xena swung in torment and waited and waited. Waited upon the whim of the woman who sat, gold-clad, upon her Throne. A half hour later, Venetia signalled that Xena was to be lowered. Though her classically beautiful features were calm and impassive, she was glowing inside with sadistic pleasure. She had little doubt about that, this time, the ex-Ruler of Barbaria would submit. Only in a minor way, of course, but it would be a submission all the same... and each and every submission from Xena was going to be an occasion of delight. Groaning feebly, Xena settled on the marble floor... and slumped. The relief to her burning muscles was beyond all description, yet they were still a torment. In the back of her mind she knew, too, that this Venetia woman, who now occupied her Throne, would not have the slightest compuction about raising her up again if she did not submit as required.
I MUST do it, Xena told herself. I must MAKE myself do it, whatever the cost. Always remember, your day of revenge will come. In her heart, she knew it was a forlorn hope to hang on to. But it was something.
“Unshackle her,” came Venetia’s orders. Overseers removed Xena’s wrist and ankle manacles. She lay twitching on the floor. She was sweating, sheer effort and pain had made her sweat.
“Kneel up,” came the next order. It was a tremendous effort to do so, both mental and physical. Xena managed it, hating herself and hating this woman before her beyond all imagining.
“Hands on top of your head, girl. Surely you know the correct posture for a slave?” Venetia smiled softly as rage surged through Xena. The terms ‘girl’ and ‘slave’ were cruel jibes directed directly at her.
“I thought you might have learnt a lesson... but it seems not...“ Xena knew what would come next. Crying out with pain from her aching biceps, Xena placed her hands on top of her head.
“Just in time, slave,” said Venetia. “I do not think you would have enjoyed another eight hours in suspension.” The very idea made Xena feel as weak as water. It would be an unbearable ordeal. Yes... yes... for all her royal background and breeding, she must, for the time being, make herself submit. So Xena knelt there, superb breasts firm and high, enhanced by her uplifted arms, slim-waisted, longthighed... a real beauty... one whose features twitched with the awful effort she had to make to endure this humbling.
“Now, slave,” said Venetia evenly, “we shall resume where we left off. If you do not obey me... even if you are too slow to obey me... you will go back into suspension.” Venetia smiled slightly, condescendingly. “Is that clearly understood?” Xena’s answer rattled in her throat. It came out as a kind of ‘yes’.
“You address me as ‘Highness,’ slave. Always. Do so.”
“Y-Y-Yes... sis... H-Highness...” squeaked Xena, wanting to scream in defiance. But, of course, not daring to do so.
“Very well, slave, you will now crawl forward and kiss the toe of my boot. Just the toe. It will be a symbol of your submission to me. CRAWL ...”
Xena ground her teeth; her features were contorted. Would not death be preferable? But she knew she would not get the benison of death. She would merely bring upon herself more anguish and torments. Then, in the end, she would still have to submit. For her part, Venetia was well aware of the dramatic mental struggle going on within her captive. She revelled in it; it was meat and drink to her. Then, quite simply, she raised one finger towards the Overseer...
A great burst of heaving breath came from Xena. It was filled with the bitterest of bitter despair and the knowledge of defeat. She bent forward, placing her hands on the floor, and then began to crawl slowly towards Venetia. Even in that moment of cruel submission, she could still scarcely believe she was doing it. Naked and crawling in her own Throne Room... Crawling to the feet of a conqueror... Unimaginable horror... But actually happening. Xena came to the dais on which the Throne was set. Through a shimmer of tears she saw the golden tip of the pointed boot. She paused, gathering the last remnants of her will She HAD to do it! Her lips pressed to the toe, then quickly withdrew. It is just a stupid gesture, she told herself. In truth it means nothing.
“Keep your lips pressed to my boot,” ordered Venetia harshly. This was a most wonderful moment for her. Open, unadulterated submission from the so-called ‘ruler of the world’. She watched, lips parting, breath coming a little faster, as Xena’s lips came back to the toe of her boot and remained there. By the Gods, what that must have cost her, she thought! Perhaps a minute ticked away. Venetia saw Xena shuddering. The effort to maintain this act of submission must have been tremendous. She had excellently swelling haunches, she realised. I shall enjoy dealing with those, in good time, she thought.
“Kneel up, slave,” ordered Venetia. Xena did so with a sobbing sigh of utter despair. Venetia smiled at her condescendingly.
“This young lady, now seated on my right hand side, is a member of my Court. Doubtless you recognise her?” Xena’s eyes shimmered fearfully to the figure beside Venetia. Then she focussed... and let out a gasp of dismay. IT WAS FLAVIA! Flavia, whom she had kept as her personal slave for so long... and whom she had treated with the most callously cruel heartlessness. It was a terrible moment to be thus confronted with the figure which now seemed from another age. Flavia’s features were stony and her blue eyes as cold as ice. A shiver of dread went through Xena. What mercy could she expect there? None... None... None...
“You will kiss the toe of Lady Flavia`s shoe... just as you have done mine,” said Venetia. Xena did so with some alacrity, keeping her lips pressed there. The re-appearance of Flavia in this dominating role had quite unnerved her. Oh the world was upside down and spinning- spinning her into the most devilish of depths!
“That will do, slave,” said Venetia. Xena removed her mouth but remained with head bent. She could not bring herself to look upon her one-time slave.
“Kneel erect, girl,” Xena did so. “You have forgotten about your hands, slave,” said Venetia complacently. “If you forget again, I shall have you whipped.” Whipped! WHIPPED! It was something which Xena had not actively considered before. Such a thing had not seemed remotely possible. Yet now she realised, in hideous, total shock, that it WAS quite possible. This woman could have her whipped. WHIPPED! And she... SHE... once the all- powerful Ruler of Barbaria! With a gasping cry of despair at this sudden realisation, Xena placed her hands on top of her head. She was trembling with the effort required to control herself. And with fear. Xena was not accustomed to being afraid. It was something outside her previous way of life. Now she knew how truly awful it was. She saw Venetia looking down on her disdainfully. Possessively. Gloatingly. Oh how she hated her! A rictus-like spasm ran over her features, momentarily distorting them. It was clear evidence of the terrifying strain she was under. Venetia decided to put on the pressure.
“You know that you address me as Highness, slave. Yes?”
“Y-Yes...” the reply was high-pitched... and there was a long pause. “Highness...” said Xena in a whisper.
“Louder!”
“Yes... yes... Highness...” Xena made herself say in a louder voice. This could not last. This simply could not go on. She would be driven mad. Xena, of course, except by observation, was not yet aware of the extensive limits to which a human being could be mentally and physically pressed.
“And you address Lady Flavia as My Lady. Do so.” Xena’s voice croaked as she spoke.
“M-My Lady...” she forced herself to say. Flavia’s features remained as stony as ever, her eyes just as ice-like. If anything, Xena was more in terror of her than she was of Venetia. She recalled some of the appalling things she had done to her... and had made her do. Oh... if only she could turn back the clock! Too late. Far too late. Now Venetia was speaking again.
“Slave,” she said, “I am going to outline what I have in mind for you. You are rather a special sort of slave, so you will be treated specially. Most specially.” Venetia smiled benignly. “I know you don’t believe this at the moment... never mind... but I must tell you I am going to make you into the most abject submissive slave imaginable. Beyond that, you will be an ADORING slave. When I have finished with you, you will be LONGING to please me. WHIMPERING with pleasure at doing so. That will be the depths of your servitude, slave. And, here we are, just at the beginning of it.” Venetia turned to Flavia. “Do you approve, my dear?”
“Very much,” said Flavia. Xena quivered with dread.
“From time to time,” continued Venetia, “I shall GIVE her to you... to amuse yourself with.”
“Thank you, Highness,” said Flavia. A little gleam of pleasure came into those icy blue eyes. Xena could scarcely believe what she was hearing. She... an ADORING slave? She... LONGING to please? She... WHIMPERING with pleasure at doing so? She... being GIVEN to Flavia? The world had gone mad. She began to tremble uncontrollably. “What do you think of her?” enquired Venetia of Flavia.
“I loathe her,” came the prompt reply. “Of her body, I mean.” Flavia surveyed the naked figure before her, even though she knew that sumptuously curvaceous body well. “Fit to be used by slaves,” said Flavia contemptuously.
“Oh, she will be,” smiled Venetia. Xena almost broke. She was teetering on the verge of her selfcontrol. They are just saying this... to frighten me... to force me into some foolish move. Well, I won’t do it. I have more sense than that. Let these imbeciles play their little games. In her heart... at root... she was still a Princess. That was something to give her grace and strength. Something they could not defeat. Venetia began to speak again.
“Tomorrow, slave,” she said, “I am going to punish you. For defying me. I am going to do so personally. Which is something rare for me.” She smiled slightly. “So you should consider that something of an honour.” Xena twitched convulsively... just hanging on to her self-control. “I am going to flog you soundly... and you deserve it ...” continued Venetia.Xena twitched again, even more convulsively. She did not believe what this woman was saying. She was bluffing; trying to frighten her. The Ruler of Barbaria could not be flogged! It was impossible. Too outrageous!
“I may even get Lady Flavia to assist me,” said Venetia. A cry of despairing protest burst from Xena. “Is there something the matter, slave?” asked Venetia archly. “You object possibly at the idea of Lady Flavia flogging you, eh? You are foolish, girl. There is no one in the world more justified than she in flogging you.”
Another despairing protest came from Xena. But, this time, on account of the truth of the statement. Tears began to trickle down Xena’s proud features... those high cheekbones... that full, wide mouth, that long aquiline nose. They dropped from her chin on to her uplifted breasts. She was lost... lost... lost...
“Well, we shall see,” said Venetia patronisingly. “That remains for another day. Meanwhile, before I have you taken away, I have some other news for you. It will give you something to think about during the night in your solitary little cell. Not too uncomfortable, I hope?”
Xena shivered. The thought of going back there was intolerable. But she was powerless.
“I am having a cage made for you,” stated Venetia calmly. “A wooden cage.” Xena looked startled. What new devilry was this?
“It is on wheels,” continued Venetia, “and it has been designed to be pulled by six of your ex- ladies-in-Waiting. You, slave, are going to be put in that cage... and then dragged round your former City. You will be as naked as you are now and on display to all your former citizens. I do not think there will be many who will regret your downfall.”
“Oooh... oooh... no...” murmured Xena involuntarily. The idea was like a dagger slicing into her vitals. Oh how could this possibly be done to her?
“That will be the first day,” went on Venetia “Subsequent days will be more entertaining. Certainly for your citizens. Maybe for you, who knows? For in the cage with you will be a dozen of your ex-male slaves. They will, of course, be able to do whatever they like with you!” Xena’s eyes rolled back. The end of the line had been reached. With a long moaning-groan of abysmal despair, she slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
“Take her away,” ordered Venetia, with an airy wave of her hand. At once Xena was dragged slithering across the marble floor and out of sight. To her cold, cruel cell.
“Bring wine, slaves. Cold sparkling wine. Lady Flavia and I have a little celebrating to do! What do you think of my little plan?” asked Venetia.
“I think it is absolutely wonderful,” cried Flavia. Her blue eyes were sparkling, joy suffused her face. She just couldn’t remember when she had felt happier. The idea of Xena being ravaged again and again, in a cage, in font of her former subjects, was like one of her wildest dreams come true. What a fate! But, by the Gods, she deserved it! Wine was brought, poured into goblets by respectful slaves, toasts were offered. The future did indeed look rosy.
Later in the day, Venetia had Xena brought back to the Throne Room.
“Kneel,” came the command. Xena knelt grudgingly, then placed her hands on top of her head. “The next time I have you brought to me,” continued Venetia, “You will kneel without receiving an order. If you do not, you will be whipped.” WHIPPED! Again that awful word. Xena shuddered. She realised this was not simply an idle threat.
“Bring in the equipment,” ordered Venetia. Six female Overseers left the room and returned shortly bearing a kind of curving bench. Also a razor and a small brazier by which lay some long needles attached to little wooden handles. Xena`s dark eyes looked at these objects with undisguised horror. She KNEW! She knew what was going to happen! Her whole being seemed to recoil from the very idea. It was impossible! They could not do this to HER! She was of Royal blood.
“Put her on the bench,” ordered Venetla. The six Overseers moved forward instantly. Xena tried to rise and run but was immediately overwhelmed. Kicking and struggling, she was carried to the bench. Her wrists were manacled to one end of it and then her head was clamped into a kind of half-cage which left her features exposed but quite immobilised. A broad belt secured her waist. Finally her lovely long limbs were spread wide, with the ankles shackled. All the time, Xena was whimpering softly.
“No... no... no... no... no... not me... no... no... no... not me ...” Venetia rose from her Throne and smiled seraphically down at her helpless victim.
“You know what is going to happen to you, of course.”
“No... nooo... no... not me... I... am... a Princess... not me... no... no... no ...” went on Xena as she shuddered uncontrollably. Her eyes were wide and imploring. Venetia went on smiling.
“Correction,” she said. “You WERE a Princess. Now you are a slave. And, as you know, girl, all slaves are shaven and pierced.”
“N-NOOO... SPARE ME THAT!” Xena’s voice was now loud and urgent. Her utter helplessness was bringing her to the fringes of panic.
“As I said before,” went on Venetia smoothly, “you are a special case. So, just as when I come to flog you, I shall deal with you personally...”
„N-NOOOOOOO!”
“So you must think yourself honoured.” Venetia bent over Xena. “You do don’t you?” she asked.Xena, frenzied with fear and fury, gathered what little spittle she had in her mouth and spat at Venetia’s face. Venetia moved slightly but quickly. She had seen what was coming and was not touched. Venetia smiled more broadly.
“My... my... slave, you’ll pay for that. And pay dearly!” Xena closed her eyes in despair. In one way, she was pleased by her act of defiance; in another, she was terrified by what she had done. For she knew, if the positions had been reversed, how she would have reacted.
“Push a leather bolster under her buttocks,” she heard Venetia ordering, “I want her belly nicely raised up. Then I shall shave this once-Royal cunt.”
Personal Narrative Fabius
It was incredible to see the former Princess Alexena treated thus. Never had I imagined any such thing would have been remotely possible. Once I had been in mortal terror of her, obeying her every whim, cringing and grovelling before her. Now she was helpless and being treated as a slave. I was glad... GLAD! Yet in my heart, my own situation had not changed one iota. I had simply exchanged one dictatorial Mistress for another. I would cringe and grovel equally before this conquering Princess Venetia. Perhaps even more so than before. Since, I sensed, the depths of cruelty in her were deeper even than those of Princess Alexena. Or Xena, as I must now call her. After all, look what she had done to the male Courtiers. Was that not the vilest act? To suffer execution was one thing. Perhaps an honourable thing. But to be castrated first... I watched as Princess Venetia picked up the razor. Her features were as steely as the blade itself. An Overseer soaped the pubic mound and then the blade was put to work. All the time, Xena was moaning and shuddering. I could imagine the depths of her shame. What an indignity for such a woman! But, I knew, worse was yet to come. Princess Venetia worked deftly and quickly. Soon Xena’s pussy was exposed hairless. That made her look even more naked than she already was. I saw that it was a sumptuously swelling mound, the pink-pouting sex lips beautifully formed.
“There,” said Princess Venetia, almost to herself, “that’s better. A lot better.” She looked around and her eyes fell on me. A tremor of dread went through me.
“You, come here,” she ordered. I approached at once and knelt. “What do you think of this ex-Royal cunt?” she enquired. What could I say?
“It... it seems... well... Highness... it seems...” I began to stammer.
“Tempts you, does it?”
“Yes, highness,” I admitted.
“Makes you feel you’d want to fuck this slave, does it?” I saw Xena’s eyes open; they were filled with degradation and dread.
“Y-Yes... Highness...” I admitted again. “Well... yes... I suppose it would.” She signed to an Overseer.
“Remove his restrainer,” she snapped. My leather pouch was unlocked and fell away. I felt a certain shame that I was already in erection.
“Mmmmm... quite well hung, I see.” There was disgust in the eyes of Xena at the sight of me. “Well, slave,” continued Princess Venetia, “You have my permission to gaze at this ex-Royal cunt and, while you are doing so, you will masturbate.” I was startled but quickly got hold of myself... not only because it was an order but because I wanted to. Never had I imagined that I would ever catch so much as a glimpse of Princess Alexena’s intimate secrets.
“However, I do not permit any male slave unalloyed pleasure,” continued Princess Venetia, “you will be thrashed while you are doing it.” Another sign and two Overseers advanced, each bearing a slim willow rod. My hand moved faster. It would not be sensible to delay the outcome of this enforced exercise. I looked at that exposed mound and imagined myself fucking Xena. I had become very hard and my lust was beginning to surge more strongly. Meanwhile at regular intervals, the rods were falling across my buttocks. Thus I gasped with pain as well as pleasure. Xena was regarding me with a mixture of loathing and contempt. But it wasn’t my fault, surely?
Faster... yet faster. I had to get it over with. Only then would the rods cease to bite. I mounted... I mounted. Higher... higher. I began to groan and my knees started to tremble. I was nearly there. Nearly... nearly... Then I erupted, crying out as I did so. I sank down to my knees and only then did the rods cease to fall.
“Clean up this disgusting mess,” ordered Princess Venetia. A female slave in attendance hurried to obey. Meanwhile my pouch was replaced and locked on again. My few moments of ‘pleasure’ were over. I remained kneeling close to Xena’s shuddering body. Now it was so difficult to think that she had once been the mighty Princess Alexena.
“Heat the needles,” ordered Princess Venetia. A low moaning groan came from Xena. It was almost impossible not to feel sorry for her... until one remembered how many countless times she had had this done to captive slave-girls. The needles glowed red and Princess Venetia picked up one of them and came to the bench. Xena spoke in a low, trembling voice.
“I... beg you not to... to disfigure me. Highness,” she said. Princess Venetia smiled graciously.
“This will not disfigure you, slave,” she said. “It will make you look prettier when you have a ring through your nose.” An Overseer raised the nostril so that the centre part protruded slightly. The red-hot needle jabbed swiftly and accurately. There was a brief smell of burning flesh and Xena screamed loudly. The needle was withdrawn.
“There,” said the Princess, “nothing to it really.” She spoke as the doctor might to a patient. Xena sobbed weakly. She must have known she was facing defeat. These were her first steps down the long, sloping path to total servitude.
“Now these pretty nipples,” said Princess Venetia, taking up another needle. “They will look pretty, too, when they are ringed. Quite large, aren’t they?”She tweaked one of them and Xena whimpered. The nipples were indeed quite large and a light brown in colour, as were the perfectly formed aureoles. Princess Venetia pulled on the nipple she held, extending it slightly. Xena’s eyes closed in despairing horror. Then the needle plunged again. The smell of more burning flesh... and an even louder scream from Xena. Tears were now running down her pale, aquiline cheeks. I felt no pity. Had she not been pitiless herself? Princess Venetia took another needle and repeated the process on the second nipple. Another wailing shriek; more burning flesh.
“Put in ‘sleepers’,” ordered the Princess. These were little wooden pegs which ensured that the holes just made did not fill in again while the flesh was healing. The pegs were pushed in by Overseers with Xena whimpering again.
“And now,” said the Princess, “for that most sensitive little piece of flesh of all.” She was smiling almost mischievously when she returned with the final glowing needle.
“NOOO... OOOOOO!” Xena cried out in an abject pleading voice.
“Oh yes... oh yes indeed.” said Princess Venetia. Then Xena’s clitoris was produced and the needle, now nearly white-hot, pierced it firmly. A terrible cry of pain and despair rose up. The final ‘sleeper’ was put in place. Princess Venetia returned to her Throne... and I saw a look of the utmost satisfaction on her serene features.
“Take her away,” she ordered. Xena was released from the bench and carried like a carcass from the chamber. “Ring her tomorrow evening,” continued the Princess, “then bring her back. It is my intention to give her a really sound flogging.” She smiled at Flavia alongside her, “With the help of Lady Flavia, of course.” I saw Flavia’s eyes alight with joy. She had once been a slave alongside me. I could understand how keenly she was looking forward to revenge!
Kaylin
- 17.05.2022
- 25
- 0
