The Warrior Queen

by Silverhawk

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.

After the first of Idonia's moon-bleeds, he had begun to tell her of when he would return to his apartments, or if he was to be away, for how long. He had done so that morning that she would be ready for his return that night. Yes, it would be good to be away from this backward village and back in Mynar tonight. Even one night away from Idonia was unbearable.

He was shaken from the daydream when King Mandorn ordered the column to stop, then quietly asked him to assemble the townsfolk. The Captain once again looked at the parchment, and then spoke.

"All people tallied after your defeat shall assemble here immediately. Failure to comply will mean death."

There was grumbling as they gathered, but the square was soon filled with people. The Captain sent two of his officers to count the women. They returned with a total that was one less than his original number. That woman was a girl who was not only missing; she was one of six he had selected for the Queen. The Captain again spoke to the crowd of people.

"It would seem one of my doves has flown from the cote. Her name is Breena, daughter of Samreen and Noril. Now who would know where this girl is hiding? Speak up now, for if I find one of you has aided her, you will be severely punished."

After a quarter of the sand had flowed through the hourglass he carried, no one had volunteered any information about Breena. He turned to the Queen.

"Your Majesty, the missing girl is one of my six, but the others are just as beautiful and ripe for the taking. I shall punish this girl's family, but perhaps you could examine the other five? I have not often disappointed you before, and you shall not be disappointed with these five."

He turned back to the crowd.

"So, you will not give up Breena. Very well, but there is a price to pay for such actions. Noril, father of Breena, step forward."

A man of about forty years stepped to the front. Muscles rippled under his tight tunic as he walked, and his eyes held nothing but hatred for the Captain.

"I am Noril."

"As you know, the penalty for hiding from the Queen is death. I will find your Breena someday, and she will pay with her life. She is your daughter and I have no doubt you had a hand in her escape. I shall take yours instead."

The captain nodded to the officer on his right, who spurred his horse toward Noril. In seconds, Noril was cut down by the officer's sword that sliced into his neck. Bright red blood spurted into the air as Noril fell, quivered once, and then lay still. The woman who ran to his side wailed in anguish as she stroked Noril's face. Two of the men in the crowd picked up Noril's body while a third lifted the woman to her feet. Together, they made their way through the crowd to the hillside behind the town.

The Captain cleared his throat.

"Now, we shall get on with the rest of our business today. These five women will step forward."

He read off the names in a loud voice.

"Charma, daughter of Ibina and Horak."

"Elista, daughter of Junet and Marshto."

"Almadee, daughter of Chancey and Ladar."

"Failai, daughter of Penela and Gornis."

"Serea, daughter of Anjo and Petron."

The five young women made their way through the crowd and stood in a line before the Queen and King. The Queen dismounted and walked to the girls.

"Take off your dresses", she commanded.

The girls, obviously embarrassed, did so slowly. The Queen eyed each girl from where she stood and then walked to the girl named Charma. With her hands, the Queen touched Charma's small breasts, then squeezed them. Charma flinched and her mouth grimaced, but she did not cry out. The Queen pinched Charma's small nipples, then pinched harder. Charma gasped, but still no cry issued from her lips. The queen turned to the Captain.

"She is a beauty, as you say, but she is too strong for my liking, and she is lacking in the breast."

Turning back to the girl she smirked.

"Perhaps one of these weakling men will find your teats more to his liking than I. Be gone with you."

The queen repeated the performance with Elista and Almadee. Elista cried out at the first touch to her small, firm breasts. The Queen laughed.

"Such small teats and such a loud voice. Go back to your mother, girl, before I give you to the Palace Guard."

Almadee gasped at the Queen's touch to her heavy breasts, gasped again when the Queen squeezed them, and cried out when the Queen's fingernails bit into her nipples. The queen smiled, then ran her hand down Almadee's smooth, flat belly.

"Open your legs, girl", the queen commanded.

Almadee did as asked, and the Queen's hand stroked the mass of dark red curls that covered the girl's sex. The Queen chuckled.

"I wonder what hides in this fiery forest. Could it be the portal is closed tight, or will it be as open as an old whore's? We shall see what we shall see."

Almadee flinched as the Queen's middle finger parted the soft lips under the red curls and sought the entrance to Almadee's body. Slowly, the finger went deeper, then deeper still until the Queen smiled. She withdrew the probing finger and touched it to her nose, then smiled again.

"This one is untouched by any man, and smells of a womb ripe for sprouting a child. She is a beauty worthy of my attentions. Take her away while I examine these last two. Perhaps I shall take more than one for my pleasure."

Almadee struggled a little as the two soldiers dragged her to the horse brought up by another, but stopped resisting when they tied her to the saddle. The Queen, meanwhile, walked to the girl called Failai. Failai's breasts were long cones that sat low on her chest. The Queen looked at them, flicked Failai's right one, and then remarked that the girl looked as if she'd nursed three children. After probing the girl's sex and finding blood on her finger, the Queen turned away in disgust as she wiped her finger on the girls soft belly.

"Captain, this one is moon-bleeding and her teats are those of a doe goat. Send her back to the village. Perhaps the girl children she pushes out between her thighs will be more to my liking. She will surely have enough milk to raise them."

Serea stood calmly and waited for the Queen to approach. When the Captain of the Guards had taken her name the day of the battle, Serea knew the reason. She was to be engaged soon to Emdal, son of Quarnic, and also knew of only one way to avoid being dragged off for the Queen's pleasure. The night after the battle, she had taken Emdal to the edge of the forest and asked him to make her a woman. When his hard shaft had pierced her maidenhead, Serea did not cry out. Instead, she thanked the Gods for helping Emdal make her unfit for the Queen's evil intentions.

The Queen eyed Serea, and did not miss the look on the girl's face. As she stroked Serea's nipples, the Queen mused, "You seem unafraid, girl. Could it be you are not as my Captain says? Spread your legs that I may see for myself."

The Queen finger disappeared into the dark brown mass of curls between Serea's thighs until stopped by the rest of her hand. She quickly removed it and turned to the Captain.

"Captain, how is it this so-called virgin is open enough my hand would fit inside her?"

The Captain stuttered in embarrassment.

"I – I have no answer, My Queen. The people of the town said she was untouched."

The Queen turned back to Serea.

"You are either a common trollop, or very quick of wit. Which might it be?"

"My Queen, I am neither. I was married to Gelma, a man from Espada the day before the battle. I went there to be married, so the people of Uvil did not know. Gelma and I were only here to gather my belongings when your army attacked."

"Ah ... I see. And where is this husband of yours now?"

Serea buried her face in her hands.

"He lies in the ground on the hillside, killed by your soldiers. I was a wife but for a day."

The Queen chuckled.

"I think that a bit convenient, but perhaps it is true. I would think my Captain would have had enough sense to ask you if you were married, but it appears he was not that thorough in his investigation."

The queen drew the small dagger from her waist. Serea backed away a step, and the Queen caught her arm.

"I shall not kill you, my dear Serea. That flat belly of yours should produce many children to farm the fields and raise animals for the palace. I will instead grant you the privilege of being the first to experience what the King is about to order as a new law in Chandolay."

The Queen grasped Serea's right breast tightly. With the tip of the dagger, she made two crossed cuts just above Serea's nipple. As thin lines of blood welled up from the wounds, the Queen let Serea's breast fall to her chest, and turned to the King.

"Husband, please order that from this day forth, all women will be marked so on their wedding day. Perhaps the Captain of the Palace Guard will not be so blind as to miss this mark when he makes his next selection."

With that said, the Queen mounted the white stallion, turned and rode out of Uvil, followed by the King, the Captain, and the rest of the soldiers.

From her hiding place high up in one of the trees on a hill that overlooked Uvil, Breena had seen everything. Her father had known what would likely happen if she left Uvil after being counted, but had insisted she hide. When he was cut down by the officer's sword, Breena had almost cried out. As it was, tears streamed down her cheeks as her father was carried away. At first, the tears were tears of anguish. After watching the Queen inspect the other five girls as if they were horses or cattle being traded, the tears changed to tears of hatred.

Her father had cautioned her to not come back to Uvil. He knew there were those there who feared the King and Queen enough to pass word of her whereabouts. Breena knew if she was found, she would be killed too, but only after her body was violated by several of the Palace Guard. Though she ached to be with her mother, Samreen, to console her and to help her through the next weeks, Breena knew her mother would understand why she could not. Samreen was a strong woman, stronger than most people realized, and along with her mane of golden blonde hair, she had passed that strength on to her daughter. While Breena was growing up, Samreen had encouraged her daughter to think for herself and to prevent her emotions from dictating her actions. Breena had become a woman capable of taking care of herself and not given to rash decisions.

Since they had only one child, Breena's father had taught her many of the things he would have taught a son. Of course, this teaching was always done in the privacy of their small home. Girls in Uvil did not use weapons or tools other than the sewing needle and a knife with which to prepare meals. Breena knew the ways of the short sword and dagger just as well as those of the thimble and needle, though she'd not had occasion to test her knowledge of weapons.

High in her tree, Breena felt for the sword at her belt and for the dagger in its sheath hanging by a leather cord between her full breasts. Almadee was her closest friend, and as the soldiers tied the naked girl to a saddle, Breena vowed to avenge her father and to free Almadee. How she would do this, she did not know, but her mother had taught her if she thought things out, she would always find an answer. Breena remained in the tree, thinking, until after night fell over the sleeping village. After tying herself to the trunk with the belt of her short sword, she fell asleep cradled between the sturdy boughs. Her dreams were a nightmare of soldiers, blood, and young girls being abused by the Queen.

Breena stayed in her tree the next morning. She knew the men of the town would bury her father on the hillside, and she wished to know the location of his grave. Someday in the future, she would visit and thank him for giving his life to spare her an almost certain fate. Today, she would silently thank him and hope his spirit would hear.

Her mother cried as the men lowered her father into the grave, but stood silently as they covered his body with the dark black earth of the hillside. Once they had tamped the extra soil into a low, rounded mound, one by one, the men patted Breene's mother on the arm and walked back to the village. Her mother stayed a while longer, then placed a single flower on the mound. Breena watched her mother walk back to the village and then scanned the area for any other people who might be in the hills. Finding none, she climbed down from the tree.

The night had not been cold, but Breena knew the chill of autumn was on its way. She would need shelter from the cold and a hidden place for a fire if she were to survive. Since Chandolay was to the south, Brenna walked north. The growl from her stomach reminded her of the need for food. She also needed different clothing. Her thin dress had torn in her climb down from the tree, and as she walked, one slender, naked thigh was exposed to her hip with every step.

All that day and through the next few, Breena walked north. She found edible roots and fruits along the way, and drank water from each stream and river along her path. Her nights were spent in trees. There were wolves in this territory as well as wild pigs that were not very picky about what they ate, or so the old ones of Uvil had related in their stories. Breena dared not use the flint and steel her father had pressed into her hand just before he told her to run. A fire would have kept animals away, but someone might see the fire and come to investigate. High in a tree, she was safe from the hunters of the night as well as from any people who might be in the area. In the morning, her high perch allowed her to look far in all directions to make sure that no one else was nearby.

She saw no other people, but this did not greatly surprise her. North of Uvil lay the Wild Lands, territory not yet settled and therefore unknown to most. Only a few traders ventured there as a short way between cities and villages in settled areas, and they stayed on the routes other traders had followed over the decades. Breena did not know the trade routes, but would have avoided them even if she had. No woman would be alone in the Wild Lands without good reason, and that reason could only be that she was hiding from someone. She could never be safe after she met a trader. At best, he would let her go on her way but spread the tale of a lone woman in the Wild Lands which would find its way to the Queen and King. At worst – she shuddered at the thought – traders were not the most trustworthy of people, and often boasted to the men of a village of their trickery where women were concerned.

On the sixth day of her travels, Brenna stopped beside a small stream for a drink. The water was nearly as cold as the winter icicles that clung to the eaves of her old home in Uvil, and tasted slightly of something other than water. Thinking such a small stream would have to originate close by, curiosity caused Brenna to follow it.

The stream meandered from a huge, dense thicket of trees and underbrush growing from the hillside. Breena took the easy way through the almost dark forest, the stream itself, and after a few minutes, saw sunlight beaming through the trees. She emerged from the dense vegetation into a large clearing around a pond. Just to her left a stone cliff jutted from the earth, and at the bottom was an opening. Breena made her way across the narrow strip of thick grass to the opening. A small stream of water ran from the far side of the opening into the pond to feed the stream up which she had traveled. Breena peered inside, then scanned around the entrance. She saw no tracks of animals and reasoned this was probably not the den of a wolf or fox. Breena stepped inside the opening and waited for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

The cavern went back as far as Breena could see, and even there, except for the ceiling, she saw only blackness and not rock. The ceiling was high enough for a tall man to stand with his hands over his head, and had a natural slope up toward the entrance. Brenna could see both sides of the cavern as well as the crack in the stone from which the stream of water issued. There were no signs of any people having been there, no footprints on the dry soil of the cavern floor, no remnants of a fire, nor anything else. Had the entrance to the cavern been in the open, Breena reasoned, someone or something would have discovered it. She had heard traders speak of crude drawings on the walls of other caverns they used on the trail, and of fire pits inside them. Since there were none of these here, Breena felt that the cavern was unknown to anyone. It would be a good place to stay.

That afternoon, Breena used her short sword as an axe to chop some small branches for firewood. As the darkness stole the daylight, Breena lit a fire near the cavern entrance and then walked back down the stream into the open country. She could not see flames from any angle, nor the flickering glow that would betray their presence. The smoke emerged from high in the trees and was only a faint trace that could have been just the mist of evening. No one would know a fire was burning in the cavern. Breena gorged herself on roasted roots from the reeds growing on one side of the pond. She fell asleep on the soft earth next to the fire.

Breena awoke the next morning to the songs of birds in the trees around her sanctuary in the rock. Her first thought was to relieve herself, and she walked outside the cavern entrance to an opening in the trees on the opposite side of the pond. As she approached the opening, she saw a deer spring away and through the trees. Breena followed the faint path she found where the deer had entered the forest.

The trail wound around trees and rocks, often disappearing almost entirely, the only indication of its presence a tuft of deer hair here and there. After following the trail for many steps, Breena saw the grass of the open countryside again. Cautiously, she ventured toward the clear opening between two huge trees. There was nothing in sight except the deer bounding away. Breena walked a short distance from the trees, then turned around and looked for the trail. Had she been further away, she would not have found it even though she knew where it was. Breena entered the woods again and walked back to the cavern along the deer trail. She paused near the clearing to relive herself, and then went back to the cavern.

After stirring the coals of her fire to life again, Breena added small sticks, then larger ones until the fire lit the inside of the cavern again. She put more roots by the fire to roast while she thought of her plans now that she had shelter.

Water was not a concern, and Breena was becoming accustomed to the taste. Food was the next issue. The roots roasting by the fire were filling, but lacking in flavor. Meat would have added that flavor, and was the next challenge Breena decided to attempt.

Her father had caught rabbits for food and to keep them from his crops, and had shown Breena how to make snares. He used the threads from torn clothing to spin a thin cord which he tied in a noose and hung from low branches of shrubs. Breena had only her dress, so she carefully un-wove some of the material from the bottom. The dress, which had covered her from hip to ankle when new, now came only to her knees, but she had enough threads to make several cords. After spinning them on her thigh, as her father had done, Breena tied each one into a noose, and then searched the edge of the clearing for signs of rabbits passing from the grass into the safety of the underbrush.

It didn't take long for her to set six snares. Breena had only to wait, and while waiting, detected the odors emanating from her dress and body. At home, she would have washed herself and her dress. It was only in spring and fall that men and women washed themselves all over, but women washed the hair and lips between their thighs, and the hair in their armpits every month after their moon-bleed.

Breena had no cloths with which to wash, nor any of her mother's soap, but she'd seen a plant along the bank of the pond she recognized. Her mother called it soap weed, and had once shown Breena how it could be rubbed into a kind of lather. Breena walked to the place where she'd seen the plants, pulled a handful, and crushed the roots between two rocks. After stripping off her tattered dress, she waded into the cool water of the pond, took a deep breath, and quickly lowered her body beneath the surface.

She emerged again a few seconds later, gasping at the chill of the pond, but feeling refreshed. After pulling the dripping mane of golden hair from her face, Breena rubbed some of the crushed roots between her hands and then onto her blonde tresses. It felt good to rub her scalp, and she did so until the lather was spread from her head to the ends of the shining strands.

Breena rubbed more soap weed lather over her face, then her across her smooth shoulders, and then into the soft hair under her arms. The soap weed had a fresh scent, rather like new mown hay, she thought, and she liked it. Breena's small hands stroked over her full breasts, and she shuddered when her fingertips brushed the nipples stiffened by the cool water.

Breena moved to shallower water and worked the soap weed lather over her flat belly and then into the blonde curls between her thighs. As her fingers slipped between the long, soft lips of her sex, Breena gasped, then moved her fingertips up and down slowly. Before, she was washing herself. Now, Breena was pleasuring herself as her mother had said all women do from time to time.

This was not the first time Breena's body had responded to her own touch. Often at night, when her parents had thought her asleep, they joined as man and wife. Breena laid in her bed with closed eyes and listened to the quiet little moans her mother made as her father stroked his manhood in and out of the opening between her thighs. Breena's fingers would find her entrance and move in as far as the narrow opening of her maidenhead and then back out, over and over, and she had to stifle the moans that seemed to come to her lips of their own accord. Breena's other hand would caress her nipples or find their way down to the stiff nub at the top of her soft lips and stroke it. Her mother would often cry out softly at the end, and Breena would hear their bed creak as her father pumped out his seed. Breena longed to open her mouth and let the same cry of pleasure slip from between her lips as her body convulsed in release, but she dared not. Instead, she kept quiet as the waves swept her from her toes to her breasts and back down.

Here, in the solitude of her sanctuary, Breena felt no such need to be quiet. When her fingertips found the stiff nub and rubbed it gently, she moaned. When her fingertips brushed her left nipple and then gently squeezed it, Breena jerked her hips into her stroking hand, and gasped. Breena's finger probed inside her sex up to the guardian of her virginity, stroked in and out several times, and then found the little button that now throbbed in excitement. After a few more light strokes over the tip and around the sides, Breena cried out, her hips rocked rapidly back and forth, and she nearly collapsed into the pond.

Breena slowly rubbed her sex for a few moments, then moved back to deeper water and submerged herself to rid her body of the soap weed lather. After a quick check for lather and another submersion, Breena wrung the water from her hair and walked back to the cavern. The warmth of the fire felt nice after the cool water of the pond, and Breena stood beside it and soaked in the heat. Once her body was dry, except for her hair, Breena took her dress to the pond, used more soap weed to wash it, then brought it back to the fire. By pushing two sticks into the floor of the cavern, Breena hung the dress up to dry, and then went to check her snares. Two of them held rabbits that Breena quickly skinned and hung over her fire with more sticks. That night, Breena dined on rabbit and the roots that she'd left to roast. By the time the stars appeared in the opening in the trees, Breena was fast asleep in her clean dress.

Almadee sat in the saddle of the horse as the column made their way back to Mydar and the palace. She had heard some of the horrors of the Queen's special bedchamber and knew of the treatment that awaited her. She looked at the Queen, then quickly turned her head. The Queen was looking at her and smiling.

"Do not fear, my lovely maiden. You may learn to enjoy what I enjoy. Some of my charges have done so."

Almadee could not imagine any woman learning to enjoy being bound to a table and having her body tortured by whipping, nor could she imagine any pleasure could be experienced from the tying of cords around her nipples. Surely, such pain would only cause her to lose her mind. Yes, that must be what the Queen meant, that the women she tortured became insane. She would kill herself before allowing her mind to float away like feathers on the wind.

"Besides, you will learn that I can give you great pleasure as well as pain, and that you can be taught to give me the same pleasure. We women know so well what men seem incapable of understanding. Did your mother not teach you as much?"

"She taught me that coupling should be between a man and a woman, and that love would bring me enough pleasure."

"Then your mother did not teach you everything about coupling. A man cares only about planting his seed. It matters not if the planting bed is well prepared, only that his seed takes root. Little do men know that their seed would sprout more easily if the woman was excited to the same state. Since your mother did not teach you this, it will fall to me, and you will be all the better for my teaching."

The sun was low on the horizon when the column rode through the gates of Mynar. Almadee was lifted from the saddle and taken into the palace. There, two older women guided her to a small room with a bed, a small table, and one chair. They unbound her wrists and then left. Almadee heard the bolt of the door sliding home.

Moments later, a younger woman, this one in the garb of some sort of priestess entered the chamber. Over one arm, she carried clothing. Over the other was a finely woven basket of straw.

"I am Panuli, of the Order of Lule. I will prepare you to meet with the Queen. When you visit her chamber, do not resist, for that will only mean harsher treatment for you. Instead, endure what you must, and learn to enjoy the pleasures of what the Queen will teach you. Now, follow me and do not attempt to escape. There is no exit from the palace without guards."

Panuli led Almadee through the door, down a short hall, and into another room. In this room was a large stone trough similar to the wooden troughs her father had used to water the farm animals, but much larger.

"Get into the basin, Almadee. You will find the water to be hot, so enter it slowly."

Almadee had never before immersed her body except in a stream or pond when a very young girl. Her spring and fall bath was done with cloths from a small bucket. As she eased her naked body down into the water, the heat prickled at her skin and caused tingles to race up her spine. When she at last sat on the bottom of the trough, the water reached almost to her chin, and her entire body was enveloped in the tingling heat.

Panuli withdrew a bar of soap from the basket and walked to the basin. She pushed gently on Almadee's head.

"Wet your hair that I may wash the dust of travel from it."

Almadee slipped down the incline on which her back rested until the water closed over her head, and then pushed herself back up. She felt Panuli's hands rubbing over her scalp. The scent of spring flowers wafted to her nose.

"This is the Queen's favorite scent. She will enjoy it on your skin and hair."

Almadee relaxed as Panuli's fingers gently worked the sweet smelling soap into her scalp and then down the long red tresses of her hair.

"Such pretty hair, and the color of leaves in autumn suits you well, I think. The Queen tells me a woman with red hair is more apt to enjoy her pleasures. I know she does have a fondness for such a shade. Now, rinse your hair."

Almadee again submerged herself and felt Panuli working the lather from her hair. When the woman gently pulled at her arm, Almeede pushed her body up again. Panuli gently pulled the hair from her face and smiled.

"There. Now for the rest of you. Stand up."

Panuli's hands were soft and gentle as she stroked them over Almadee's body. The soapy lather on Panuli's hands let her breasts slip from the woman's hands when she gently squeezed them. When Panuli's fingertips were left with only Almadee's nipples to squeeze Almadee felt a tingle deep in her belly. Panuli noticed.

"The tightening in your belly tells me you are not new to the feeling. You have caused this feeling yourself, have you not?"

Almadee didn't answer.

"No matter. All women do. Now, spread your legs. The queen will wish to have this scent there also."

Panuli worked the soap lather into the dark red triangle of curls between Almadee's thighs. Almadee flinched when Panuli's fingertip felt for the lips amongst the curls and then slipped between them.

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