The Warrior Queen


Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Fiction, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Breena watched from her hiding place in a tree overlooking the village of Uvil. She watched with tears of grief as her father was struck down at the orders of the Captain of the Palace Guard. She watched with tears of hatred as the Queen selected her friend Almadee from the five virgins the same captain had ordered to come forward. Breena knew not how, but she vowed that day to free Almadee and avenge her father. She only needed help.

The column of mounted soldiers moved slowly down the valley, the clinking sound of steel armor and the squeaks of leather barely audible over the sound of a thousand hooves treading the soft, fertile earth. The village of Uvil lay in the center of the valley, and this was the column's destination. In this village was a prize sought by one of the two riders at the head of the column. That rider was Queen Jornea, wife of the column's leader, King Mandorn.

King Mandorn was tall with the bulging muscles of a warrior. The waves of hair that spilled from beneath his gleaming, steel helmet were dark brown as was the beard visible through his open visor. With piercing blue eyes, the King unconsciously scanned the horizon for signs of sentries just as he did before battle. His interest lay in the conquest of everything and everyone at the edges of the kingdom of Chandolay. The army of Chandolay stopped at nothing in this quest. With King Mandorn at the head of tens of thousands of mounted warriors, the army had swept hundreds of cities and towns under the rule of the King. So strong was the Chandolay army, those conquered cities and towns could do little after the battle but bury their dead and await the arrival of Queen Jornea.

The Queen, sitting astride the magnificent white stallion at the head of the column was a dark haired beauty, taller than most women, and with curves that would turn any man's head for a second look. Woe be it to any man who did such a turn, for Queen Jornea was not a woman who cared for such attentions from just any man. The penalty for staring at her heavy, leather-clad breasts and the sensuous hips that seemed to make love to the saddle of her mount was death. Queen Jornea's quest was also one of conquest, and she pursued that quest with every bit as much fervor as did King Mandorn when he raided a city on the edges of Chandolay. That conquest was the finding of beautiful young women to satisfy her insatiable desire for both pleasure and torture.

Though increasing the size of his ever-growing kingdom was the primary goal of the King, he was not immune to the charms of a well-developed woman. From time to time he enjoyed the warm, wet, clasping passage of the Queen as well as the same of a few carefully selected, experienced, older women of the Order of Lule, the God of Fertility. Despite this ready supply of women with which to cool the heat of his manhood, his favorite pastime, other than lopping off the heads of those who opposed his rule, was the deflowering of virgin girls. This pastime was not only one of pleasure; it was the desperate means to insure his successor.

Queen Jornea flowered and then bled with the passing of the moon as did all other women, but her flower did not produce fruit. The barren state of her womb made her jealous of the young women who visited her chambers, and was at least partially responsible for her treatment of them, but she was careful to save the maidenheads of the most beautiful for King Mandorn's pleasure. Impregnation of a virgin was the only way King Mandorn could be assured the child was of his loins, and therefore his heir.

Once captured by the Army and once the Queen had extracted her pleasure from them, those young virgins were placed in a convent guarded by the women and eunuchs of the Order of Lule. They were taught the arts of love, and when they reached the age of twenty years, were inducted into the Order. They continued their training and served as concubines to the older women until such time as they were ripe for the King.

The duty of the Order of Lule was to prevent any man other than the King from bursting the barrier of the girl's fertility. The women of the Order monitored the cycle of each girl's body, and informed the King of the time he should implant his seed. When impregnated, the young women were to stay at the convent until they gave birth. Once the child was born, of if they failed to conceive within the span of a year, a selected few became permanent members of the Order. Most were placed in brothels located in cities around the kingdom for use by the soldiers stationed there.

All children of these young women were to be raised by the Order until old enough to function on their own. Girls would then be placed with families in the surrounding cities to grow up and bloom into womanhood. Young boys would remain in the convent and taught the arts of war. Also at the age of nineteen, those boys deemed by their appearance and skills to be of regal quality would be inducted into the King's Army. Those judged to be weaklings and those with what the King considered defects would be cast out into the kingdom to find a village and fend for themselves.

It was apparent to the women of the Order of Lule that King Mandorn's seed was also less than fruitful as well as weak in constitution. Only one or two out of every hundred young girls placed in their care accepted his seed and grew a child, and those children had all been sickly and weak. In the ten years since his father's death and his assumption of the throne, King Mandorn's efforts had produced no children that lived past their first year. The result was an ever-increasing urgency on the part of the King for the capture of young maidens, an urgency in which Queen Jornea happily participated.

The lookouts from Uvil, old men hidden in the trees of the hills on either side of the valley, had seen the column approaching several hours before and had sent messengers to warn the townsfolk. Such was their practice since the battle that left half the men in eternal sleep under the soil of the hillside and the other half cowing at the mere mention of another visit from King Mandorn. They also knew of Queen Jornea's desire for young women, having heard the soldiers laughingly speak of such when they herded the townsfolk into the town square for the counting of heads.

The total for Uvil had been one hundred thirty six young men well or slightly wounded, two hundred and two women of childbearing age, and one hundred and three children. There were no other young men. After the short battle, those with serious wounds had been dispatched with a single sword thrust. Older men were allowed to live but not counted, as were women past the years of fertility. Those residents had valuable skills and experience that would keep the village alive and producing grains and animals for the King's pantry.

The men and women enumerated by the Captain of the Palace Guards were the fountain stock who would also produce children. Those children were destined to be soldiers for the King and young women to satisfy the Queen.

As the column moved on slowly, the Captain of the Palace Guards rode up beside Queen Jornea.

"Your Majesty, we are approaching Uvil, a small village we subdued a few months ago."

He pulled a parchment from the bag that hung from his saddle and began to list the census of the population. He was cut short by the irritated voice of the Queen.

"I do not care how many men or children manage to exist in this stinking valley. How many virgins are there?"

"Yes ... I was getting to that. There are thirty three young women of child bearing age who are possible virgins, though one cannot be certain by appearances alone. As is your wish, I did no other investigation."

"I can be certain of which girls are pure and which have already been spoiled by the thrust of a farm boy's stiff cock. Are any of these beautiful enough to please me?"

"I have noted six, Your Majesty. All appeared nicely formed and their faces, while no match for yours, are pleasing to see."

"We shall see, then, if I am to be entertained tonight or if I shall once again find barefoot girls fit only to serve as a soldier's whore.

The Captain hoped at least one of the six would satisfy the Queen's needs. If not, they would be on to the next town and he would be away from Idonia for another night. As the column arrived at the town square, he was dreaming of Idonia's firm breasts in his hands and the warmth of her body enveloping his rigid shaft as she rode him to their mutual end. He'd found Idonia in the soldier's brothel by chance, and after that first night, had ordered her permanently assigned to his quarters.

Idonia was a woman most men sought, but one they seldom found. Her body, from the round, firm breasts that jutted from her chest, to the slender waist, to the soft, round hips that cushioned the Captain's thrusts were enough to excite the most calm man. That body, matched with an insatiable desire to feel his rigid organ pumping in and out of her wet passage had swept the captain away.

Every night, he would arrive at his apartments at dusk, and every night, Idonia would meet him either dressed in some filmy fabric that accentuated her charms, or dressed as she was on the day she was born. Her hands would stroke his chest, then his belly, and finally seek his manhood. Those soft hands would quickly have him erect and thrusting into their soft strokes. Those soft hands would reach for him as Idonia layed back on his bed, spread her long, slender legs and begged him to enter her.

Often, they coupled twice in one night, Idonia moaning with passion and pleasure as his manhood erupted with a flow of seed, and then seeking to restore his softening organ to the swollen, rigid shaft she craved. Once she had succeeded, she might straddle him, impale herself, and ride him until he spurted his seed again. If she did not ride, she might bend over on the bed, spread the soft cheeks of her hips, and invite him to take her as the stallion does the mare.

.... There is more of this story ...

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