The Slave Queen

Part One

ONE.

 

Lona found the harem to be terribly boring. The other women and girls were tremendously vapid and, as far as she could tell, they had no redeeming qualities beyond their beauty. She hated listening to them prattle on about nothing. It was mindless, boring conversation about nothing that interested Lona.

Still, the harem was better than the scullery. She had lived happily in the scullery for most of her life. There were certain advantages to living as a slave in the scullery. Food was largely plentiful and it was warm in the winter; other slaves in their jobs had it much worse, but she had been taken when she was young and had been placed in the scullery when she lost her freedom. There she grew up and there was where she would have remained if she were as stupid and vacuous as the other girls.

Except for the stupid conversations and pointless existence of the other women, life in the harem was not bad or difficult. It was certainly prettier than the scullery or the kitchens; the walls were painted pure white and decorated with artwork. Statues were scattered about. There was more than enough food, though the attendants made sure the girls didn’t eat too much and get fat. Even the bed she had been given was much more comfortable than in the scullery.

She had been given her own small room that opened onto the common area where there was a warm pool for bathing. Lona found she liked bathing in the warm pool where the water was constantly flowing. She didn’t like the other girls’ obsession with the silly clothes they wore. She didn’t like their constant gossiping about the other girls and who was the most handsome guard and who got to fuck the prince next.

The prince. She had been laboring for him for years, for most of her life, and she had never met him, or even set eyes on him. Few in the manse had. It didn’t matter. She had a life and she had a plan.

The other girls were stupid but she was not.

 

Aurene was the prettiest slave in the harem. She arrived back from her night with the prince at the midday meal. A confident, self-satisfied smile was on her face and the other girls shot jealous looks her way. The young woman looked slightly disheveled and had dark circles around her eyes. Obviously she hadn’t slept a wink during the night.

As she strode through the common area, conversation slowly died out. Unselfconsciously she unbelted her loose fitting dress, let it drop from her body, and she walked into the warm bathing pool. Lona watched Aurene. There were red marks on her body and small bruises on her thighs. Lona was positive the bruise starting to blossom on her breast bore the shape of human teeth. It was easy for Lona to tell that Aurene loved the attention the other girls bore her.

Lona cast an admiring gaze at Aurene. The slave had long, thick honey-brown hair she normally kept in a braid, but was now loose around her shoulders. Her skin was smooth and free of any blemishes save the marks given by her lover the night before. Her breasts were large but not obscenely so, and her buttocks rolled enticingly as she walked through the harem.

She slipped into the water, let her head fall back on the padded edge of the pool, and looked around at all the envious glares. “The prince exhausted me last night,” she said in her calm, even voice.

“Close your legs,” sniped Irien from the other side of the pool. The cold-hearted slave’s attitude was mirrored by her fair skin, her blonde hair, and her light sapphire eyes. “You’re polluting the pool.”

“With the prince’s cum,” Aurene said as she lifted up her knees. Her cunt was obscured under the water’s moving surface, but her meaning was well-taken. “He’s already filled my belly and I’ll be bearing his child next spring.”

There were sighs and giggles from around the pool. Lona didn’t join in the sharp talk. She just watched.

Later, the women of the harem were playing a game of stones. It wasn’t a difficult game to learn. It was all strategy and planning. Colored stones were placed on the board and moved and removed as the players tried to control as many spaces as possible. Irien was one of the best players and Lona watched her closely as she defeated each new girl who came up to challenge her.

It wasn’t long before Irien noticed Lona watching her. “You there. New girl. You don’t get to watch. You have to play.”

Lona stood back warily. She had only been in the harem for a week and hadn’t been called on to do anything yet. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she would have to serve. She wasn’t afraid; she was just curious at this point.

“I have to play?” Lona asked with trepidation.

“I’m bored with these other girls,” Irien said dismissively, sweeping the colored stones off the board and quickly resetting them. “I need a new challenge. Do you know how to play?” She beckoned Lona forward.

Slowly the new slave stepped forward and sat down on the wooden bench across the stone table from Irien. “I’ve seen others play,” she said carefully.

“Maybe you can be taught then,” Irien replied and set her first stone. Lona followed suit and the game commenced. The other girls watched and the match seemed to go on forever. Aurene walked by then. She had finally exited the bathing pool and instead of drying off, she had wrapped her body in a loose, gauzy gown. Her nipples were plainly visible through the thin material which clung wetly to her skin. Lona didn’t allow herself to be distracted by the first concubine’s beauty.

Glancing at the board, Aurene commented, “She’s better than you, Irien. You’re going to lose.”

Irien had only been paying half attention to the game. She was distracted by the mug of wine she had been drinking and had been thinking about how she could somehow get into the bed of the prince. Her game had been going poorly.

She laughed out loud. “You’re smarter than you look, girl. What’s your name?”

“Lona.”

“Did they buy you from the slavers or were you caught in the northern hills? The king has been making war with the pagans this past year.”

“I…I don’t understand your question.” Lona was lying, but she was planning as well.

Irien regarded her evenly. She was only a few years older than Lona, but thought she had a world’s more wisdom. Women didn’t last long in the harem. Beauty faded. “Why are you here with us? If you weren’t bought from the slavers or captured, how did you get here?”

Lona considered the stones in front of her. “I used to be in the scullery.”

“Scullery slave?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Ten years…until I became a woman.”

Irien blinked. “I don’t believe you.” She reached out and tossed back Lona’s long red hair that had fallen over her shoulders. “Pretty red hair like yours? The harem scouts would have found you long ago.”

“I colored it,” she said, self-consciously pulling her hair back and trying to hide it. “And I was a girl. And I knew how to hide.”

Irien scoffed. “Maybe. But you’re here now. And soon the prince will have you. Once he knows there’s a pretty redhead waiting for his cock, he’ll have you.”

Aurene grimaced and interjected herself into the conversation. “She’s right, Lona. It’ll be soon enough that you’ll have your turn on the prince’s cock.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Irien said. “I’ve had my share of lovers, including the prince. You’ll enjoy it.” She smiled. “I always did.”

The crude talk of the slaves didn’t upset Lona. She set one of her stones on the board and picked up four of Irien’s. “Do you think that I came out of the scullery a virgin?”

Irien chuckled. “She gave it up for free to a cook’s helper.” She frowned at the board and placed another stone.

Lona didn’t hesitate and placed another stone which allowed her to pick up six of Irien’s. “Is the prince married?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Irien’s brow furrowed at the losing position on the board. “But there’s some girl of noble birth he’ll wind up marrying soon enough. I doubt that’ll stop his taste for concubines and slaves.” She placed another stone but didn’t pick up any of Lona’s.

Before Lona could take her turn, Aurene grabbed the stone out of her hand and placed it, allowing Lona to pick up a handful of Irien’s which ended the game. “Some of those noblewomen have a taste for the unusual,” she warned.

 

It wasn’t more than a sevenday later when Lona was summoned. She was taken from the harem by a guard. She didn’t know exactly what to expect, but she didn’t expect to be taken to a rather plain dressing room where a pair of gray-haired women were waiting for her.

“Get your dress off, we’ve got work to do,” the first of the ladies said to Lona the moment the guard brought her into the room.

Lona hesitated for just a second before unbolting the plain white dress all the slaves wore in the harem. Underneath she was nude and immediately the two women started clucking their tongue and shaking their heads.

“Fair northern barbarians will be the death of me,” the first woman said. “Skin too pale, too many freckles, hair so thick,” and she tugged on Lona’s long tresses causing her to yelp in pain, “that we can’t do anything with it.”

“Hil, don’t be so pessimistic,” the other woman said. “Think of it as a challenge. After all, the prince has a taste for the exotic.”

“And look at her tits, Sen,” Hil complained. She reached out and tweaked both of Lona’s nipples that capped her small breasts. “Too tiny to please any man.”

Lona’s looks set her off from the rest of the concubines. They were all beautiful in their own way, but the majority of the concubines had olive skin and brown hair. Lona and Irien were the exceptions. The only other slave that was a standout was Dara with her honey-gold skin, jet black hair, and almond-shaped eyes.

“The prince likes different,” Sen declared. “Let’s get to work.”

Already having bathed in the pool that morning, Lona didn’t have to be subjected to another cleaning. The women started on her hair first, making her sit on a hard bench, naked, while they combed and arranged her hair. Because it was so thick, they opted for a set of heavy braids they pinned around her head.

The body was easier in some respected. Sen and Hil oiled Lona’s skin which enhanced her paleness and hid her freckles.

“Too much hair,” Sen said with a cluck of her tongue.

“You’ve already arranged it,” Lona complained. She had caught sight of herself in the looking glass the women had and she was secretly pleased with the way her hair was artfully arranged. Her fingers went to the intricate braids.

Hil clucked her tongue as well. “No. Not on your head, silly girl. Too much on your body. The prince and the nobility like their concubines a little different from most men.”

Sen produced a pair of razor-sharp knives and gestured for Lona to open her legs. “Too much hair.”

Lona perched nervously on the bench’s edge while they groomed her. The oil helped the blades glide over her skin, quickly removing the hairs on her legs and arms. It was fascinating to watch the tiny bits of red disappear. She became nervous when Sen settled between her legs and carefully moved the blade around her cunt. The groomer didn’t remove all the hair from between her legs, but merely shaped what she had into a neat triangle.

“Much better,” declared Sen when she was done.

Feeling completely exposed Lona stood up when Hil offered her a hand. The contact between the concubine and the servant had been more intimate that Lona had expected but it hadn’t seemed to affect Sen at all.

“Jewelry,” Hil said. “She needs jewelry.”

“Half of what we have she isn’t ready to wear,” Sen said.

Hil sighed, exasperated. “Then we’ll put on her what she can wear.” After quickly deciding that silver and not gold best suited her coloring, the pair of servants started trying on a dazzling array of jewelry on Lona’s body. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, all manner of chains and ornamentation were pressed against her body and quickly removed. Lona couldn’t tell what effect the women were trying to achieve, but eventually they left her wearing a fine chain that wrapped around her neck so tightly that she couldn’t wiggle a single finger between the chain and her throat. To this was added a bracer that was tightened around her upper right arm, a belly chain that looped twice around her midriff just above her hips, and a thick silver anklet was placed around her left ankle, making her feel a bit off balance.

“No finger rings,” Hil said firmly. “They’ll just get in the way. And she hasn’t earned them.”

Sen took a different opinion. “But the prince likes his mates well decorated. Something for her feet. Surely that is reasonable?”

That short argument resulted in Lona having a single silver ring placed on the second toe of her left foot. It felt odd. And then Loan realized that not a single slave in the harem had any jewelry on them. There was no need for slaves to have ornamentation on them in the harem; this was just for when they were being used.

“Almost done now,” said Sen.

“Almost?” Lona questioned her with incredulity.

“You don’t expect to go walking through the manse naked, do you?” replied Hil.

At that moment, between the oil, the jewelry, and the fancy hair arrangement Lona hardly felt naked, but she realized, knowing how the nobility behaved, that full nudity would not be tolerated even if it was from a slave.

Hill and Sen found clothing for her, but since she was a concubine slave it was sparse and revealing, the complete opposite of what was worn by the noblewomen whose dresses covered them from neck, to wrist to ankle. The only skin a noblewoman showed was on her hands and her face, and even then when the weather was the least bit chill, a proper noblewoman wore white gloves.

The clothing wasn’t much, just a bandeau around her chest to cover her breasts and nipples. She supposed on a woman with larger tits, the bandeau would have controlled flesh from bouncing around uncontrollably, but Lona had only the smallest of breasts so the piece of white silk was really just decoration. The tiny skirt around her hips was a skirt in name only. Attached to a thin leather belt were two pieces of white silk that matched her bandeau and served to hide her sex and her buttocks, but because the silk triangles were so small, they barely fulfilled those purposes.

“One last touch,” said Hil after Sen helped her into the tiny pieces of clothing. Hil applied some color grease to Lona’s lips, cheeks, and eyelids. It wasn’t much, but not much was needed. “You’re already beautiful,” said the groomer. “Too much would be a crime.”

Lona had just a few seconds to admire herself in the looking glass before a guard appeared. He had a short length of chain in his hand which he attached to the bracer on Lona’s arm. It didn’t do much to control her, but the symbolism was obvious. She had no choice in this matter. She was compelled to go along with what she was told.

It wasn’t like Lona would have resisted. She was eager to see where she was going.

 

 

TWO.

 

The manse wasn’t so large that it was easy to get lost within, but the long route Lona was taken on eventually confused her. She was led to a part of the manse she had never been in, or even near, in all her time in the scullery. There was precious little reason for a scullery maid to bring food to the residential quarters of the manse.

The bedroom she eventually found herself in was beautiful but restrained in its decoration. Striking wood paneled walls, thick draperies, a huge four-poster bed sporting a thick mattress, several heavy wood chairs, and other assorted furniture filled the room. In her false finery Lona felt completely out of place. There was something wrong…something off about the room. She felt a foreboding sense of trepidation.

“Wait,” the guard told her as he unhooked the chain from her bracer and headed toward the door. “Touch nothing.”

She was left alone in the middle of the room. Nervous, but not really frightened, and unwilling to move from the spot she was rooted in. The waiting was the worst part. Anything that happened she knew she could deal with, but the waiting was excruciating.

It wasn’t long, but long enough, when a door, partially hidden by an enormous wardrobe, opened. Lona’s back stiffened and she gasped slightly when the door admitted a pretty noblewoman in a flowing yellow dress and brown hair bound up in curls. She walked in with confidence and then stopped short when she saw Lona standing in the middle of the room.

“Oh,” she said and gave Lona a bemused smile. Turning her head toward the still open door, she called out, “The new slave is here.”

“Concubine!” a voice came from within the door.

“Whore would be more accurate,” the noblewoman said, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

“Whores you pay,” said the man as he came through the door. “Concubines and slaves, well, you fuck them for free.”

The woman’s nose wrinkled. “Crude.”

Lona adopted a pose of unconcern; it was the attitude that all servants and slaves learned right away if they wanted to do anything other than hard labor.

The man was dressed formally in tight breeches and a dark blue jacket which he removed and casually tossed aside and then immediately began unbuttoning his shirt. Lona couldn’t help herself and glanced at the way the breeches pulled tightly across the bulge of his crotch. “My dear Kyra,” he said, “the only difference between you and her, is a matter of luck and breeding.”

“And money and land,” Kyra pointed out. “At least she is pretty. Are you going to fuck her, Revard?”

“Are you going to watch?” Revard retorted.

“Always, my prince,” she giggled as she began removing her white cotton gloves.

Lona blinked. The man before her wasn’t the prince.       He wasn’t the prince. While working in the kitchens he had seen the prince a few times and the young man before her wasn’t that man. The prince was older with gray starting to form at his temples and carefully trimmed beard that gave him an air of authority. He was the son of the king and ran the day-to-day business of the kingdom. This man before her was barely older than Lona and he was clean shaven with closely cropped hair. He must have been the prince’s son…which, Lona realized after she puzzled out the problem, he was also a prince, just not the crown prince.

Revard had removed his shirt and was now clad only in his breeches and tall black boots. Lona let her eyes pass over his smooth muscular chest and tried not to think about what his body was doing to her cunt. Kyra turned her back to Revard; she had tossed her gloves on the small table next to the padded wooden chairs and opened the buttons at the wrists of her sleeves. “Unbutton me?” she asked him with a brilliant white smile tossed over her shoulder.

A playful smile pulled at Revard’s lips. “Isn’t that the duty of a maid?” he asked while running his finger up her row of buttons and tracing it through the wisps of hair that had escaped Kyra’s careful coif. The noblewoman’s eyes fluttered half-shut and Lona detected a definite tremble passing through her body.

“There’s no maid here,” she pointed out.

“There is a slave,” replied Revard.

“A whore,” Kyra corrected him, her eyes still shut.

“Close enough.”

“You just want to see her with me,” said Kyra.

“Yes,” he said and kissed the back of her neck. “And she’s half naked already.”

“She’s just a whore,” Kyra sighed.

“And you’d love to be like her, wouldn’t you?” Revard replied while gesturing to Lona.

She knew her position and her role. Lona wasn’t stupid. Her fingers were as clever as her mind and she quickly figured out the buttons that held the lady’s dress closed. There were a number of buttons and it took a minute, but eventually Lona got them all done and the dress fell away. She stepped back and Kyra stepped out of the garment crumpled on the floor.

It was surprising to see a noble lady wearing next to nothing and when she turned around, Lona was surprised again, but she managed to keep herself in check. The thin silk undergarments Kyra wore did little to hide her body. Indeed, Lona quickly figured out they were designed to enhance her appearance. The dresses the noblewomen wore were designed to artificially emulate the female shape, but to hide everything as well. Underneath the dress, everything was on display. The white silk hid nothing and Lona could see Kyra’s large, dark nipples on her breasts and the dark triangle at the apex of her legs.

“Like what you see, dearie?” Kyra asked and then, without warning, slapped the slave across her face.

Lona gasped at the unexpected cuff. It wasn’t the first time she had been abused as a slave and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last either.

“Don’t damage the goods, sweetling,” Revard said to Kyra while taking up Lona’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. She was trembling, not from his closeness or his semi-nudity, but from the blow itself. Kyra had a strength in her that was unexpected. “No permanent damage done, I think,” he said after a brief inspection. He lightly ran a finger over Lona’s cheek, tracing the outline of fingers that his consort had left behind on the slave.

“My name is Lady Kyra Sunterlund,” the pretty brunette said in the tone of a woman used to being obeyed. “You will do anything and everything I demand.”

Revard clucked his tongue. “She’s a slave, dear. She knows her position.” He turned Lona’s face back and forth a bit more. “She is a cut above the ones they’ve been sending me lately. Very pretty.”

“She’s just a slave,” Kyra said dismissively. “Good for fucking and breeding and chores and nothing else.”

Dropping Lona’s chin, Prince Revard turned toward Lady Kyra. “In my experience the slaves of my family are the best at fucking. Care to get her ready for me?”

“Now you’re making me your servant?” Kyra asked him.

“You want to,” he teased her.

Suppressing a giggle, Kyra said, “Well, you’re right. I want to see what you’re going to do to her.” As Revard stepped back, she walked a neat circle around Lona and then barked the order, “Arms up!”

Lona did as commanded. She was a good slave, after all, and felt all the more vulnerable for it. But Kyra just grabbed the bandeau and lifted it up off her tits, over her head and arms, before pitching it aside. “Very pink nipples,” she commented, reaching out to pinch one, lightly at first but then she twisted her fingers making Lona gasp. “Very pretty.”

Revard chuckled a bit. “Don’t damage her,” he admonished his partner again. Kyra increased the pressure for half a second, and then let go, allowing Lona’s small breast to bounce back into place while the slave struggled not to embarrass herself or the noblewoman. Revard barely took notice; he wasn’t truly concerned with Lona’s well-being. “They are very pink,” he agreed. “The flaming red hair will do that. The skirt needs to go as well.”

Kyra reached out and roughly yanked open the knot Lona’s belt, jerking her around a bit before the knot opened and the tiny garment fell to the hardwood floor. Lona stood still, for all purposes completely naked, while the other two raked her with their eyes.

“I want to see you fuck her,” Kyra breathed.

Reaching between Lona’s legs, Revard ran his fingers along her cunt lips and smiled. “She’s not that wet. I’m afraid you’ll have to help me out, love.”