Barbaria Act 1 Epilogue
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Main Narrative
Princess Alexena’s dark, almond-shaped eyes flashed. A kind of frisson ran through her and one elegant white hand heavily be-ringed, gripped more tightly on the arm of the throne-like chair in which she was seated.
“A woman you say. Captain Varian?” The princess’s tone was sharp, implying that it was an affront that any other woman should be Head of a State ... let alone a State daring to rival the might of Barbaria!
“Yes, Highness,” nodded Captain Varian. He had reckoned the information would intrigue the princess and he had been right.
“I see ...” The words came like a sighing-hiss. Then Princess Alexena relaxed again. “In that case, this becomes an expedition of supreme importance.”
“Agreed, Highness.” The chief commander always showed the greatest respect for the ruler of Barbaria. He was a hard-bitten man in his early forties and could scarcely be called servile. However, he knew where the true and absolute power lay ... acknowledged it ... and devoted himself to it.
“Kindly let me have a sight of your plans of this place called Sythia as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Highness.”
Alexena fell silent. She seemed to be deep in thought. One gold-sandalled foot pressed more firmly into the neck of the slave-girl acting as a footstool before the throne set in the Audience Room of the Royal Palace of Nexos. This throne was supported on the backs of two slaves who knelt on all fours, heads bowed.
“If all this is true,” said the Princess, after some time, “I want this woman ... this so-called ruler... brought to me. And I want her brought to me alive, not dead.”
“I shall make every endeavour, Highness.”
The regal head turned sharply. “Oh yes, Captain, you will make every endeavour. You will! If you know what’s good for you.”
Not for the first time the commander endured the lash of the royal tongue. He accepted it as best he could.
“I meant, Highness, in war, nothing is certain. This ruler might be killed. Or kill herself.”
Princess Alexena seemed to ignore this piece of plain common-sense. “I want her here. Where this creature is!” Her foot pressed even more firmly down and a little suppressed moan came from the slave-girl crushed to the hard, marble floor. It was Flavia, one of the younger and more recent additions to the Royal retinue of slaves. “And I want to see her like this. ”The toe of the sandal jabbed into Flavia’s side. “Up!” came the order.
At once, Flavia knelt erect and placed her hands submissively on top of her head. It was a head which was bowed by reason of the fact that, from the nose-ring threaded through her sternum, two short chains ran, linking up with similar rings threaded through her nipples.
“This is Flavia,” said Princess Alexena, “just about the lowliest of my personal slave-girls.”
Captain Varian, however, had already recognised the shapely, auburn-haired youngster kneeling naked before them. He recalled the time when, on the deck of his ship, ‘The Taurus’, those holes for the rings had been made with a red-hot needle. How she had screamed in pain and horror as those rings had been threaded through and the little chains fitted! Well, the girl would have known a great deal more pain and horror since then ... some five or six weeks ago now. She must have had to keep her head bowed for all that time, he thought. It was a heavy price to pay for having looked at Princess Alexena with what had been deemed ‘undue arrogance’! Captain Varian liked the look of the girl. Lovely firm breasts, high and rounded; the aureoles a rosy pink like the pierced nipples.
“Ah yes,” he said, “one of the captives from our raid on Menos. Daughter of their chieftain, if I remember aright.”
“She had the effrontery to insist she was Lady Flavia, ”said the Princess with a sneer. “That she be treated as such ... be treated with some consideration! I quickly disillusioned her,” A trace of a smile crossed sneering lips.
Captain Varian smiled too. He could well imagine what various forms that ‘disillusionment’ could have taken. It would not be pleasant to be in the power of a woman such as Princess Alexena! “She seems quite docile now,” he remarked.
“Oh yes,” nodded the Princess. “What are you, Flavia?”
“I ... I am your most humble and abject slave-girl, most high and mighty Mistress, ”came the soft, girlish voice. The form of address when answering questions was obligatory. “And honoured to be so.”
“Honoured to be permitted to act even as my footstool?”
“Oh yes ... most high and mighty Mistress.”
A faint look of satisfaction crossed the Princess’s features. It was wonderful what the whip could do, she thought. And by no means for the first time. It would work equally well with this, as yet unknown, woman leader of the State of Sythia. She must, reflected the Princess, be a woman of considerable character and ability. With will and courage. Above all, with pride. It was going to be supremely delightful to bring her to complete submission. Far more so than with a c***d like Flavia ... though that had had its moments. She had been a rebellious creature to begin with.
Suddenly, Princess Flavia snapped her fingers. “Ryar!” she called. A powerfully-built man came through the archway leading from ante-chamber... the Chief Overseer of her Highness’s personal slave entourage. The flesh of his muscular body was the palest coffee colour and, apart from sandals, he wore only a brief white loin-cloth. Although a number of his assistants were eunuches, Ryar was an entire male ... the prodigious bulging of the loincloth gave ample evidence of that!
“Highness ...” Ryar bowed. His dark eyes were hard and eager set in impassive features; his sandy hair was close-cropped. Not only an excellent and faithful servant but an ideal man of his duties.
“Remove this girl’s chains,” ordered the Princess. “But keep on the rings as a reminder. The slightest look of insolence or arrogance in her eyes and the chains go back on.”
“Yes ... Highness ...”
Ryar went down on one knee and the two small chains were quickly removed. Captain Varian heard a low, wondering kind of moan come from the kneeling figure. The auburn head remained bowed as Ryar rose again.
“You may look at me, slave,” said Princess Alexena.
It took a few moments for Flavia to comply. Her head had been bowed for so long it seemed impossible for her to raise it to its natural perpendicular. But then, with another moan, the head came up and, with a convulsive shudder of dread, reluctant blue-green eyes gazed on the ruler of Barbaria.
There is no arrogance in them now, thought Captain Varian. Only a sort of despairing blankness through which terror filtered. He had seen that look in the eyes of many a slave-girl. The soft pink lips, full and pouting, were quivering. With her oval face, wide forehead and delicate rose-pink skin, this Flavia was a very pretty young creature, reflected Captain Varian. Princess Alexena certainly kept the pick of the girls for herself! And, knowing the Princess’s sexual tendencies, those lips would have frequently and assiduously been at work.
Princess Alexena’s dark, diamond-hard eyes bored into her trembling victim. She knew what effect they were having. Power is a many-splendoured thing, she thought. There is no lack of ways of exercising it. Just by looking one could send icicles of terror through a pounding heart.
There was a long silence, during which Flavia trembled incessantly, like a newly-planted tree in the breeze. Captain Varian’s eyes roved over the firm but curvaceous young body. Milk-white belly. Lovely swelling thighs. Young enough to be my daughter, he said to himself. Easily. He felt a faint stirring in his loins. Well, he had plenty of slave-girls in his own entourage ... all at his beck and call.
“Have you anything to say, slave?” demanded the princess in her sharp, metallic voice.
Flavia’s mouth opened and shut several times. She seemed bemused, at a loss for words. But she knew she had to make some answer. “Th-Thank y-you, high and mighty M-Mistress,” she finally choked out.
Princess Alexena smiled dazzlingly, if briefly. It was nice to be thanked after all she had done to the girl! She turned to Captain Varian. “Would you like to make use of her?” she asked.
The Captain was a little taken aback. He had not been expecting such a question, though he could not deny he had been lusting after the young girl.
“Er ... er ... well ... Highness ...” he began hesitantly.
“Show the Captain your wares, slave. We must see if he fancies them or not!”
Flavia looked stunned. A pink colour spread over her soft cheeks. Then crept down to her apple-round breasts. Two milky white orbs with delicate pink centres.
“P-Please ...” she began falteringly.
“Get your backside in the air, girl!” snapped Ryar. “Legs wide.” Now, despite her shame, Flavia moved quickly. She knew she had to unless she wanted to experience pain. She twisted around on her knees... went on to all fours... and thrust her hindquarters high. Slowly, with evident reluctance, her shapely young thighs parted. Cheeks mottling slightly, eyes suddenly glinting, Captain Varian contemplated all that was so blatantly displayed to him. Oh yes... he liked them young. And this one looked so very young. Yet so succulent. The fact that she had been depilated gave her a certain innocence but the girl’s mature ripeness could not be doubted.
“Mmmm ... quite charming,” he murmured under his breath.
“Do you want to make use of it or not, Captain?” asked the Princess, almost sharply.
“It ... it is most kind, your Highness,” said Captain Varian. “I mean, she is your slave ... why ... why should you?”
“You are my most trusted commander,” smiled Princess Alexena. “It is only right that I should do you some small favour now and again.”
“Thank you, Highness... you are most kind.” Captain Varian inclined his head. He felt his pulses beating a shade faster and he glanced back at Flavia’s naked charms once more. Yes... she would be most enjoyable.
“It’s nothing, Captain. The least I can do. Especially when I think of all you do for me.”
“Once again, thank you, Highness.”
“Ryar,” said the Princess, “have this slave sent to the Captain’s quarters whenever the Captain requests. When he has finished with her, have her brought back here. Now take her away.”
“Yes, Highness...”
Captain Varian wondered what it must be like for a well brought-up girl to hear such words. To be moved like a chess-piece on a board. To be transferred from one place to another with no more concern than if she were a piece of furniture. Bitter indeed for her. But rather delightful for him. He saw the smooth white shoulders begin to heave with sobs as the Chief Overseers bent and hauled the girl up by a hank of her rich auburn hair.
“Come on, my little beauty...”
Ryar half-dragged Flavia across the room. When she made some instinctive word of protest... so natural in a young girl... her deliciously rounded bottom received a stinging slap. Then, from off a table, Ryar took a long, slim chain. This was swiftly fastened to Flavia’s nose-ring and, at once, there was no more resistance in her. Trembling, she stood complacently still, eyes down cast. Several large tears rolled down. These were agony to endure if she attempted to fight the nose-ring. Thus she submitted...
And Ryar moved off, leading the girl as if she were a calf going to market.
“Thank you once again, Highness,” said Captain Varian.
Princess Alexena spread her hands. “It’s nothing,” she said. “But you do see why I want this woman ... this so-called Head of State ... alive?”
“Oh yes, Highness, I do indeed. And I shall do my utmost to ensure that she is delivered into your hands. I shall give my life, if need be.”
“I hope it doesn’t have to come to that,” replied Princess Alexena, suddenly grave.
“From what I have heard, this is no ordinary foe, Highness.”
“Hhmmm ... but surely none can match the might of Barbaria?”
“Certainly it does not seem possible, Highness. But as a military man, I must take every precaution. There is no point in being fool-hardy. If the rumours are exaggerated, so be it. I would rather be made to look a little over-cautious than risk the forces of Barbaria.”
“You are right, Captain,” nodded the Princess. This Sythian force was beginning to loom larger all the time. How much a threat was it? The unknown was always more worrying than the known. By the gods, thought Princess Alexena, this woman will pay dearly for even threatening to imperil Barbaria!
Oh yes... yes...
What a day when I have her captive!
“When will I have your plan of campaign, Captain?”
“Within forty eight hours, Highness. In fact, there will be two plans. One for a small exploratory force; another for the main force, if we find ourselves up against a powerful foe.”
“Good... good. I look forward to seeing you again soon then, my dear Captain Varian. ”The Princess raised her hand in a sign of dismissal and her chief commander rose from his seat and bowed deferentially... catching sight of the two kneeling male slaves supporting the throne as he did so. What a fate, he thought! Better death than slavery! But then, especially when one is young, one always hopes. No warrior could truly imagine what being a slave means. Especially being a slave of Barbaria.
“I wish you good evening, Highness...”
“Thank you, Captain. And I you.” There was almost a twinkle in Princess Alexena’s eyes as she said it. She was aware of her commander’s penchant for young girls, though she was not so indelicate as to mention it at that moment!
Her commander, dressed very much in the Roman style of several millenia before, retired from the Audience Chamber. The Princess sat for some time, silent and speculative. Grave dangers might lie ahead...
But exquisite delights, too ...
Excitement sent her pulses throbbing. How superb life was! Oh yes... how superb! When one had power, of course...
Princess Alexena rose from her throne and left the chamber. The two kneeling male slaves remained silent, though both felt like uttering groans of relief now that their burden was somewhat lightened. But the throne itself was heavy enough in all conscious... and they had to bear it on their backs for several hours yet, whether or not it was occupied.
That was the existence of a slave.
To be used.
To be abused.
Yet, once, these two husky males, when warriors, had felt also that life was superb. That it had so much in the way of excitement to offer. Triumph, honours, glory and gold. The pleasure to be had from enchanting young women. Now there was nothing but drab servitude.
And the biting lash for the slightest so-called fault.
As to the pleasures of sex, they were crudely and cruelly denied them. For the penis of each was encased in a tubular device or iron. It ran from just behind the phallic head to an inch or two from the root. Natural functions were possible, but nothing else. Indeed, even the natural tumescence resulting from sexual thoughts or desires was made instantly exceedingly painful.
All male slaves in the Palace of Nexos wore this device.
And that device could not be removed except on the direct orders of the owner of the slave. It was an order only given, naturally, if the owner wished to amuse herself with her slave. In some way or another.
It was a bitter fate.
Especially when one was young and vigorous.
Strong and virile.
For, constantly, these male slaves were surrounded by the naked, nubile charms of seemingly countless slave-girls! Oh yes, a bitter fate indeed!
A slave-girl fell to her knees as Princess Alexena swept into her private apartments. Then another... And another... The were like dominoes toppling.
A fourth slave-girl, at an arched entrance to another apartment, not only fell to her knees but also presented her fulsome naked hindquarters to her Mistress. The switch which dangled from the Princess’s wrist bit into those inviting buttocks.
A breathless little gasp...
A quick squirm-squirm of the hindquarters...
The recipient of the cut was Nerine, one of the Princess’s longer-serving slave-girls... and with the honour of acting as a personal body-slave.
The switch which administered the cut was of tightly-plaited white leather, bound around a core of supple whalebone. It tapered finely to a small knot to which was attached a little tab of hard ivory. It was a switch which hurt considerably.
Nerine had to endure its bite every time her Mistress returned to her private apartment. It was just one of the penalties of being so close to the mightiest power in the land. It was necessary, constantly, to remind a slave of what a privilege it was to serve such a supreme being... and of her own lowly status.
“Disrobe me, girl...”
Nerine, a ravishing picture of young womanhood (as were all members of the entourage) rose quickly to her feet and hurried to her Mistress. No matter that the freshly-raised weal stung sharply. All the more so as she moved. Such a minor detail had to be overlooked. Her Mistress has to be served. That was what mattered.
Princess Alexena was feeling a little tense. The news she had received was exciting but disturbing, too. The destiny of Barbaria could be at stake. That seemed absurd. For she had been born into power. Her father, until his death, had ruled the mightiest State in the known world. Surely nothing could change that now?
Shrugging off any forebodings, the Princess decided she would take a bath, have a massage, and then be further relaxed by one of her slaves. Or several of them. She looked at her naked body in the mirror before her as Nerine gathered up the garments just removed.
Yes... I am beautiful, she said to herself. The most beautiful woman in Nexos. Possibly in the world.
Certainly the body of the Princess was magnificent. Especially for a woman in her early thirties. She was tall and statuesque made. Full breasted, slim-waisted, amply curvaceous in the hindquarters and superbly long-limbed. She was, indeed, what might be called a ‘large-size’ woman yet, so perfectly proportioned was she that this was not particularly noticeable. Her height... over six feet in high-heeled sandals... merely added to her regal authority. The rest of her body simply matched that height.
Two immaculate long-fingered hands firmed up the breasts. They sagged just a little without the support of a brassiere. But surprisingly little in view of their size. Then one hand ran down over the flat smoothness of her belly and lightly touched a neatly-trimmed dark down triangle. For, of course, the Princess was not depilated as were her slaves both male and female. Indeed, most of the ladies of the Court retained their body hair since not to have it was a sign so closely linked with servitude.
Nerine returned and knelt, awaiting orders.
“I shall bathe,” announced the Princess. “Attend me Nerine. And also Mena.”
The two slave-girls, one dark, one fair, hurried after their Mistress as she strode from the room.
The Princess lay in a large, sunken oval bath of black marble; It was full of warm milk. She lay with eyes closed half floating. Also in the bath were Nerine and Mena, gently caressing that body with their small hands. It was a body almost as creamy white as the milk itself. The Princess enjoyed this kind of attention in her bath. The hands were permitted to go anywhere. And did. But most gently and softly.
The big beautiful breasts wallowed in the water; occasionally a long thigh would emerge. The slave-girls were rather like two seal puppies nuzzling around their mother.
An enchanting enough scene. If one could overlook the basic cruelty underlying it.
After some ten minutes... and without a word... Princess Alexena stepped from the bath. Nerine and Mena were pushed aside. They scrambled up after her, enwrapping her in big, soft bath towel. They knew their Mistress did not like to be kept waiting for anything. Not a moment. Had not both of them frequently felt the bite of her switch for what she considered unnecessary delay?
Once dried, the Princess moved in leisurely fashion to a leather topped massage table and lay face down upon it.
The comparison with a slave laying herself upon a whipping bench is apparent!
But, it need hardly be said, no whip had ever sullied that broad, firm back... nor those swelling buttocks, soft and fulsome.
With jars of scented oils, Nerine and Mena placed themselves one on each side of the table. Gently and skilfully, they began to knead the flesh, working in the soothing, relaxing oils. Soon that lovely skin had a sheen to it.
Perfection!
After a while, the Princess drowsily turned herself over... and the process was repeated over the lushness of her breasts, the taut curve of her belly, down the smoothness of her long thighs.
And while the Princess lay there, half asleep, her mind kept roaming towards that woman in an unknown land. Wondering what she was doing at that moment...
Perhaps being massaged by her slaves!
A little smile flickered over the Princess’s lips. By the gods, little did that woman know what was coming to her!
No more slaves... no more leisure for her. She would be the slave. And the lowest, most abject slave imaginable.
How dare that woman consider challenging the might of Barbaria!
She would pay. And pay more dearly than she could ever have remotely imagined!
Yet, when these ministrations were over, Princess Alexena still did not feel as relaxed as usual. Wearing a simple, single-piece, full-length White gown, cinched at the waist with a gold belt, she lolled on a well cushioned couch, sipping at a goblet which contained aromatic wine.
Gold was a recurring motif with the Princess. In fact, she alone in the Palace could adorn herself with it. Her belts, her hair-bands, her sandals, her rings... all were of gold. It singled her out and emphasised her unique authority. Even the handles of her switches and whips were of gold, or chased with it.
Suddenly the goblet was dashed to the floor. Wine spread like a pool of blood over the mottled marble and, instantly a male slave in attendance leapt forward and began to lap it up. It was a rule that if the Princess dropped anything, the slave assigned for such duty had to lick at it until the floor was spotless again. Wine was one of the more pleasant things to lick up.
“Bring me brandy!” ordered the Princess in a harsh voice. Her dark eyes were smouldering. Every slave in attendance was trembling inside. They knew the danger signs. The fact that Lady Judilla had been attending a banquet and was not available when summoned seemed to have made their Mistress’s bad mood even worse.
Another goblet arrived. The princess drank deep.
Yet her nervous tension was still there. Fortunately there were ways of easing that. She would whip some slaves. Or have them whipped.
Yes... that always eased the nerves.
Her Chief Overseer came hurrying in from an ante-room where he had to await the Royal orders.
“Have a whipping frame set up in here.”
“At once, Highness...”
“Bring implements. A variety.”
“Yes, Highness... immediately...” Ryar was a most practiced sycophantic.
“And some slaves. Both male and female.”
“I shall do so at once, Highness...”
With a bow, Ryar hurried off. Princess Alexena sank back on her cushions and drank deep again. Her eyes were glinting as they roamed around her apartment. Of course, she could have used any of the numerous slaves gathered there for her amusement. There were something like a dozen there. All on their knees, awaiting her orders. Ready on the instant to satisfy her slightest whim. To carry out whatever order was given... to the very best of their ability.
Her personal property...
Oh what joy in that knowledge!
However, on this occasion, it might be more entertaining to have something fresh brought to her. Why not? After all, the supply of slaves was, to all intents and purposes, virtually endless.
Not only were their lives held cheap but so, also, what could be done to them!
Princess Alexena’s dark, almond-shaped eyes flashed. A kind of frisson ran through her and one elegant white hand heavily be-ringed, gripped more tightly on the arm of the throne-like chair in which she was seated.
“A woman you say. Captain Varian?” The princess’s tone was sharp, implying that it was an affront that any other woman should be Head of a State ... let alone a State daring to rival the might of Barbaria!
“Yes, Highness,” nodded Captain Varian. He had reckoned the information would intrigue the princess and he had been right.
“I see ...” The words came like a sighing-hiss. Then Princess Alexena relaxed again. “In that case, this becomes an expedition of supreme importance.”
“Agreed, Highness.” The chief commander always showed the greatest respect for the ruler of Barbaria. He was a hard-bitten man in his early forties and could scarcely be called servile. However, he knew where the true and absolute power lay ... acknowledged it ... and devoted himself to it.
“Kindly let me have a sight of your plans of this place called Sythia as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Highness.”
Alexena fell silent. She seemed to be deep in thought. One gold-sandalled foot pressed more firmly into the neck of the slave-girl acting as a footstool before the throne set in the Audience Room of the Royal Palace of Nexos. This throne was supported on the backs of two slaves who knelt on all fours, heads bowed.
“If all this is true,” said the Princess, after some time, “I want this woman ... this so-called ruler... brought to me. And I want her brought to me alive, not dead.”
“I shall make every endeavour, Highness.”
The regal head turned sharply. “Oh yes, Captain, you will make every endeavour. You will! If you know what’s good for you.”
Not for the first time the commander endured the lash of the royal tongue. He accepted it as best he could.
“I meant, Highness, in war, nothing is certain. This ruler might be killed. Or kill herself.”
Princess Alexena seemed to ignore this piece of plain common-sense. “I want her here. Where this creature is!” Her foot pressed even more firmly down and a little suppressed moan came from the slave-girl crushed to the hard, marble floor. It was Flavia, one of the younger and more recent additions to the Royal retinue of slaves. “And I want to see her like this. ”The toe of the sandal jabbed into Flavia’s side. “Up!” came the order.
At once, Flavia knelt erect and placed her hands submissively on top of her head. It was a head which was bowed by reason of the fact that, from the nose-ring threaded through her sternum, two short chains ran, linking up with similar rings threaded through her nipples.
“This is Flavia,” said Princess Alexena, “just about the lowliest of my personal slave-girls.”
Captain Varian, however, had already recognised the shapely, auburn-haired youngster kneeling naked before them. He recalled the time when, on the deck of his ship, ‘The Taurus’, those holes for the rings had been made with a red-hot needle. How she had screamed in pain and horror as those rings had been threaded through and the little chains fitted! Well, the girl would have known a great deal more pain and horror since then ... some five or six weeks ago now. She must have had to keep her head bowed for all that time, he thought. It was a heavy price to pay for having looked at Princess Alexena with what had been deemed ‘undue arrogance’! Captain Varian liked the look of the girl. Lovely firm breasts, high and rounded; the aureoles a rosy pink like the pierced nipples.
“Ah yes,” he said, “one of the captives from our raid on Menos. Daughter of their chieftain, if I remember aright.”
“She had the effrontery to insist she was Lady Flavia, ”said the Princess with a sneer. “That she be treated as such ... be treated with some consideration! I quickly disillusioned her,” A trace of a smile crossed sneering lips.
Captain Varian smiled too. He could well imagine what various forms that ‘disillusionment’ could have taken. It would not be pleasant to be in the power of a woman such as Princess Alexena! “She seems quite docile now,” he remarked.
“Oh yes,” nodded the Princess. “What are you, Flavia?”
“I ... I am your most humble and abject slave-girl, most high and mighty Mistress, ”came the soft, girlish voice. The form of address when answering questions was obligatory. “And honoured to be so.”
“Honoured to be permitted to act even as my footstool?”
“Oh yes ... most high and mighty Mistress.”
A faint look of satisfaction crossed the Princess’s features. It was wonderful what the whip could do, she thought. And by no means for the first time. It would work equally well with this, as yet unknown, woman leader of the State of Sythia. She must, reflected the Princess, be a woman of considerable character and ability. With will and courage. Above all, with pride. It was going to be supremely delightful to bring her to complete submission. Far more so than with a c***d like Flavia ... though that had had its moments. She had been a rebellious creature to begin with.
Suddenly, Princess Flavia snapped her fingers. “Ryar!” she called. A powerfully-built man came through the archway leading from ante-chamber... the Chief Overseer of her Highness’s personal slave entourage. The flesh of his muscular body was the palest coffee colour and, apart from sandals, he wore only a brief white loin-cloth. Although a number of his assistants were eunuches, Ryar was an entire male ... the prodigious bulging of the loincloth gave ample evidence of that!
“Highness ...” Ryar bowed. His dark eyes were hard and eager set in impassive features; his sandy hair was close-cropped. Not only an excellent and faithful servant but an ideal man of his duties.
“Remove this girl’s chains,” ordered the Princess. “But keep on the rings as a reminder. The slightest look of insolence or arrogance in her eyes and the chains go back on.”
“Yes ... Highness ...”
Ryar went down on one knee and the two small chains were quickly removed. Captain Varian heard a low, wondering kind of moan come from the kneeling figure. The auburn head remained bowed as Ryar rose again.
“You may look at me, slave,” said Princess Alexena.
It took a few moments for Flavia to comply. Her head had been bowed for so long it seemed impossible for her to raise it to its natural perpendicular. But then, with another moan, the head came up and, with a convulsive shudder of dread, reluctant blue-green eyes gazed on the ruler of Barbaria.
There is no arrogance in them now, thought Captain Varian. Only a sort of despairing blankness through which terror filtered. He had seen that look in the eyes of many a slave-girl. The soft pink lips, full and pouting, were quivering. With her oval face, wide forehead and delicate rose-pink skin, this Flavia was a very pretty young creature, reflected Captain Varian. Princess Alexena certainly kept the pick of the girls for herself! And, knowing the Princess’s sexual tendencies, those lips would have frequently and assiduously been at work.
Princess Alexena’s dark, diamond-hard eyes bored into her trembling victim. She knew what effect they were having. Power is a many-splendoured thing, she thought. There is no lack of ways of exercising it. Just by looking one could send icicles of terror through a pounding heart.
There was a long silence, during which Flavia trembled incessantly, like a newly-planted tree in the breeze. Captain Varian’s eyes roved over the firm but curvaceous young body. Milk-white belly. Lovely swelling thighs. Young enough to be my daughter, he said to himself. Easily. He felt a faint stirring in his loins. Well, he had plenty of slave-girls in his own entourage ... all at his beck and call.
“Have you anything to say, slave?” demanded the princess in her sharp, metallic voice.
Flavia’s mouth opened and shut several times. She seemed bemused, at a loss for words. But she knew she had to make some answer. “Th-Thank y-you, high and mighty M-Mistress,” she finally choked out.
Princess Alexena smiled dazzlingly, if briefly. It was nice to be thanked after all she had done to the girl! She turned to Captain Varian. “Would you like to make use of her?” she asked.
The Captain was a little taken aback. He had not been expecting such a question, though he could not deny he had been lusting after the young girl.
“Er ... er ... well ... Highness ...” he began hesitantly.
“Show the Captain your wares, slave. We must see if he fancies them or not!”
Flavia looked stunned. A pink colour spread over her soft cheeks. Then crept down to her apple-round breasts. Two milky white orbs with delicate pink centres.
“P-Please ...” she began falteringly.
“Get your backside in the air, girl!” snapped Ryar. “Legs wide.” Now, despite her shame, Flavia moved quickly. She knew she had to unless she wanted to experience pain. She twisted around on her knees... went on to all fours... and thrust her hindquarters high. Slowly, with evident reluctance, her shapely young thighs parted. Cheeks mottling slightly, eyes suddenly glinting, Captain Varian contemplated all that was so blatantly displayed to him. Oh yes... he liked them young. And this one looked so very young. Yet so succulent. The fact that she had been depilated gave her a certain innocence but the girl’s mature ripeness could not be doubted.
“Mmmm ... quite charming,” he murmured under his breath.
“Do you want to make use of it or not, Captain?” asked the Princess, almost sharply.
“It ... it is most kind, your Highness,” said Captain Varian. “I mean, she is your slave ... why ... why should you?”
“You are my most trusted commander,” smiled Princess Alexena. “It is only right that I should do you some small favour now and again.”
“Thank you, Highness... you are most kind.” Captain Varian inclined his head. He felt his pulses beating a shade faster and he glanced back at Flavia’s naked charms once more. Yes... she would be most enjoyable.
“It’s nothing, Captain. The least I can do. Especially when I think of all you do for me.”
“Once again, thank you, Highness.”
“Ryar,” said the Princess, “have this slave sent to the Captain’s quarters whenever the Captain requests. When he has finished with her, have her brought back here. Now take her away.”
“Yes, Highness...”
Captain Varian wondered what it must be like for a well brought-up girl to hear such words. To be moved like a chess-piece on a board. To be transferred from one place to another with no more concern than if she were a piece of furniture. Bitter indeed for her. But rather delightful for him. He saw the smooth white shoulders begin to heave with sobs as the Chief Overseers bent and hauled the girl up by a hank of her rich auburn hair.
“Come on, my little beauty...”
Ryar half-dragged Flavia across the room. When she made some instinctive word of protest... so natural in a young girl... her deliciously rounded bottom received a stinging slap. Then, from off a table, Ryar took a long, slim chain. This was swiftly fastened to Flavia’s nose-ring and, at once, there was no more resistance in her. Trembling, she stood complacently still, eyes down cast. Several large tears rolled down. These were agony to endure if she attempted to fight the nose-ring. Thus she submitted...
And Ryar moved off, leading the girl as if she were a calf going to market.
“Thank you once again, Highness,” said Captain Varian.
Princess Alexena spread her hands. “It’s nothing,” she said. “But you do see why I want this woman ... this so-called Head of State ... alive?”
“Oh yes, Highness, I do indeed. And I shall do my utmost to ensure that she is delivered into your hands. I shall give my life, if need be.”
“I hope it doesn’t have to come to that,” replied Princess Alexena, suddenly grave.
“From what I have heard, this is no ordinary foe, Highness.”
“Hhmmm ... but surely none can match the might of Barbaria?”
“Certainly it does not seem possible, Highness. But as a military man, I must take every precaution. There is no point in being fool-hardy. If the rumours are exaggerated, so be it. I would rather be made to look a little over-cautious than risk the forces of Barbaria.”
“You are right, Captain,” nodded the Princess. This Sythian force was beginning to loom larger all the time. How much a threat was it? The unknown was always more worrying than the known. By the gods, thought Princess Alexena, this woman will pay dearly for even threatening to imperil Barbaria!
Oh yes... yes...
What a day when I have her captive!
“When will I have your plan of campaign, Captain?”
“Within forty eight hours, Highness. In fact, there will be two plans. One for a small exploratory force; another for the main force, if we find ourselves up against a powerful foe.”
“Good... good. I look forward to seeing you again soon then, my dear Captain Varian. ”The Princess raised her hand in a sign of dismissal and her chief commander rose from his seat and bowed deferentially... catching sight of the two kneeling male slaves supporting the throne as he did so. What a fate, he thought! Better death than slavery! But then, especially when one is young, one always hopes. No warrior could truly imagine what being a slave means. Especially being a slave of Barbaria.
“I wish you good evening, Highness...”
“Thank you, Captain. And I you.” There was almost a twinkle in Princess Alexena’s eyes as she said it. She was aware of her commander’s penchant for young girls, though she was not so indelicate as to mention it at that moment!
Her commander, dressed very much in the Roman style of several millenia before, retired from the Audience Chamber. The Princess sat for some time, silent and speculative. Grave dangers might lie ahead...
But exquisite delights, too ...
Excitement sent her pulses throbbing. How superb life was! Oh yes... how superb! When one had power, of course...
Princess Alexena rose from her throne and left the chamber. The two kneeling male slaves remained silent, though both felt like uttering groans of relief now that their burden was somewhat lightened. But the throne itself was heavy enough in all conscious... and they had to bear it on their backs for several hours yet, whether or not it was occupied.
That was the existence of a slave.
To be used.
To be abused.
Yet, once, these two husky males, when warriors, had felt also that life was superb. That it had so much in the way of excitement to offer. Triumph, honours, glory and gold. The pleasure to be had from enchanting young women. Now there was nothing but drab servitude.
And the biting lash for the slightest so-called fault.
As to the pleasures of sex, they were crudely and cruelly denied them. For the penis of each was encased in a tubular device or iron. It ran from just behind the phallic head to an inch or two from the root. Natural functions were possible, but nothing else. Indeed, even the natural tumescence resulting from sexual thoughts or desires was made instantly exceedingly painful.
All male slaves in the Palace of Nexos wore this device.
And that device could not be removed except on the direct orders of the owner of the slave. It was an order only given, naturally, if the owner wished to amuse herself with her slave. In some way or another.
It was a bitter fate.
Especially when one was young and vigorous.
Strong and virile.
For, constantly, these male slaves were surrounded by the naked, nubile charms of seemingly countless slave-girls! Oh yes, a bitter fate indeed!
A slave-girl fell to her knees as Princess Alexena swept into her private apartments. Then another... And another... The were like dominoes toppling.
A fourth slave-girl, at an arched entrance to another apartment, not only fell to her knees but also presented her fulsome naked hindquarters to her Mistress. The switch which dangled from the Princess’s wrist bit into those inviting buttocks.
A breathless little gasp...
A quick squirm-squirm of the hindquarters...
The recipient of the cut was Nerine, one of the Princess’s longer-serving slave-girls... and with the honour of acting as a personal body-slave.
The switch which administered the cut was of tightly-plaited white leather, bound around a core of supple whalebone. It tapered finely to a small knot to which was attached a little tab of hard ivory. It was a switch which hurt considerably.
Nerine had to endure its bite every time her Mistress returned to her private apartment. It was just one of the penalties of being so close to the mightiest power in the land. It was necessary, constantly, to remind a slave of what a privilege it was to serve such a supreme being... and of her own lowly status.
“Disrobe me, girl...”
Nerine, a ravishing picture of young womanhood (as were all members of the entourage) rose quickly to her feet and hurried to her Mistress. No matter that the freshly-raised weal stung sharply. All the more so as she moved. Such a minor detail had to be overlooked. Her Mistress has to be served. That was what mattered.
Princess Alexena was feeling a little tense. The news she had received was exciting but disturbing, too. The destiny of Barbaria could be at stake. That seemed absurd. For she had been born into power. Her father, until his death, had ruled the mightiest State in the known world. Surely nothing could change that now?
Shrugging off any forebodings, the Princess decided she would take a bath, have a massage, and then be further relaxed by one of her slaves. Or several of them. She looked at her naked body in the mirror before her as Nerine gathered up the garments just removed.
Yes... I am beautiful, she said to herself. The most beautiful woman in Nexos. Possibly in the world.
Certainly the body of the Princess was magnificent. Especially for a woman in her early thirties. She was tall and statuesque made. Full breasted, slim-waisted, amply curvaceous in the hindquarters and superbly long-limbed. She was, indeed, what might be called a ‘large-size’ woman yet, so perfectly proportioned was she that this was not particularly noticeable. Her height... over six feet in high-heeled sandals... merely added to her regal authority. The rest of her body simply matched that height.
Two immaculate long-fingered hands firmed up the breasts. They sagged just a little without the support of a brassiere. But surprisingly little in view of their size. Then one hand ran down over the flat smoothness of her belly and lightly touched a neatly-trimmed dark down triangle. For, of course, the Princess was not depilated as were her slaves both male and female. Indeed, most of the ladies of the Court retained their body hair since not to have it was a sign so closely linked with servitude.
Nerine returned and knelt, awaiting orders.
“I shall bathe,” announced the Princess. “Attend me Nerine. And also Mena.”
The two slave-girls, one dark, one fair, hurried after their Mistress as she strode from the room.
The Princess lay in a large, sunken oval bath of black marble; It was full of warm milk. She lay with eyes closed half floating. Also in the bath were Nerine and Mena, gently caressing that body with their small hands. It was a body almost as creamy white as the milk itself. The Princess enjoyed this kind of attention in her bath. The hands were permitted to go anywhere. And did. But most gently and softly.
The big beautiful breasts wallowed in the water; occasionally a long thigh would emerge. The slave-girls were rather like two seal puppies nuzzling around their mother.
An enchanting enough scene. If one could overlook the basic cruelty underlying it.
After some ten minutes... and without a word... Princess Alexena stepped from the bath. Nerine and Mena were pushed aside. They scrambled up after her, enwrapping her in big, soft bath towel. They knew their Mistress did not like to be kept waiting for anything. Not a moment. Had not both of them frequently felt the bite of her switch for what she considered unnecessary delay?
Once dried, the Princess moved in leisurely fashion to a leather topped massage table and lay face down upon it.
The comparison with a slave laying herself upon a whipping bench is apparent!
But, it need hardly be said, no whip had ever sullied that broad, firm back... nor those swelling buttocks, soft and fulsome.
With jars of scented oils, Nerine and Mena placed themselves one on each side of the table. Gently and skilfully, they began to knead the flesh, working in the soothing, relaxing oils. Soon that lovely skin had a sheen to it.
Perfection!
After a while, the Princess drowsily turned herself over... and the process was repeated over the lushness of her breasts, the taut curve of her belly, down the smoothness of her long thighs.
And while the Princess lay there, half asleep, her mind kept roaming towards that woman in an unknown land. Wondering what she was doing at that moment...
Perhaps being massaged by her slaves!
A little smile flickered over the Princess’s lips. By the gods, little did that woman know what was coming to her!
No more slaves... no more leisure for her. She would be the slave. And the lowest, most abject slave imaginable.
How dare that woman consider challenging the might of Barbaria!
She would pay. And pay more dearly than she could ever have remotely imagined!
Yet, when these ministrations were over, Princess Alexena still did not feel as relaxed as usual. Wearing a simple, single-piece, full-length White gown, cinched at the waist with a gold belt, she lolled on a well cushioned couch, sipping at a goblet which contained aromatic wine.
Gold was a recurring motif with the Princess. In fact, she alone in the Palace could adorn herself with it. Her belts, her hair-bands, her sandals, her rings... all were of gold. It singled her out and emphasised her unique authority. Even the handles of her switches and whips were of gold, or chased with it.
Suddenly the goblet was dashed to the floor. Wine spread like a pool of blood over the mottled marble and, instantly a male slave in attendance leapt forward and began to lap it up. It was a rule that if the Princess dropped anything, the slave assigned for such duty had to lick at it until the floor was spotless again. Wine was one of the more pleasant things to lick up.
“Bring me brandy!” ordered the Princess in a harsh voice. Her dark eyes were smouldering. Every slave in attendance was trembling inside. They knew the danger signs. The fact that Lady Judilla had been attending a banquet and was not available when summoned seemed to have made their Mistress’s bad mood even worse.
Another goblet arrived. The princess drank deep.
Yet her nervous tension was still there. Fortunately there were ways of easing that. She would whip some slaves. Or have them whipped.
Yes... that always eased the nerves.
Her Chief Overseer came hurrying in from an ante-room where he had to await the Royal orders.
“Have a whipping frame set up in here.”
“At once, Highness...”
“Bring implements. A variety.”
“Yes, Highness... immediately...” Ryar was a most practiced sycophantic.
“And some slaves. Both male and female.”
“I shall do so at once, Highness...”
With a bow, Ryar hurried off. Princess Alexena sank back on her cushions and drank deep again. Her eyes were glinting as they roamed around her apartment. Of course, she could have used any of the numerous slaves gathered there for her amusement. There were something like a dozen there. All on their knees, awaiting her orders. Ready on the instant to satisfy her slightest whim. To carry out whatever order was given... to the very best of their ability.
Her personal property...
Oh what joy in that knowledge!
However, on this occasion, it might be more entertaining to have something fresh brought to her. Why not? After all, the supply of slaves was, to all intents and purposes, virtually endless.
Not only were their lives held cheap but so, also, what could be done to them!
Eisley
- 22.10.2021
- 21
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