Chapter 1

If you think the title is like something out of Nazi Germany, you could be right ... to an extent. The Duke – not even an Archduke, leave alone a Crown Prince or King, but none-the-less an absolute monarch – ruled over the tiny but scenic central European country aptly known as Centrovia. The country, as I say, is tiny and totally lacking in resources other than scenery; mountains and fast-flowing rivers, hence of interest to climbers and winter-sports enthusiasts, artists and bird-watchers. It produces enough food – in basic staples – to support the population, and the income from the tourist business is enough to finance a reasonably comfortable lifestyle.

Over the centuries, Centrovia has been subject to various adjacent polities, most recently the Austro-Hungarian, Communist Russia, Nazi Germany and the Communists again. However, as it had nothing of value, not even a large population to serve in an army, it was largely permitted to muddle along without significant external interference. The dynasty that produced Duke Gerhardt (actually, he was the fourteenth of that name) had been nominally in charge since the Middle Ages and not much had changed in that time. At least, nothing had changed until the fall of Communism.

Duke Gerhardt was relatively young. With the demise of his father, Duke Karl the third, from complications resulting from a thoroughly dissolute lifestyle, Gerhardt set about making some changes. With help from outside, mainly the good old USA, but also the EU member states, he introduced modern medicine, or at least a modern clinic. Hydroelectric power, satellite communications, even a helicopter for emergency casualty transfer. By the turn of the Millennium Centrovia was becoming quite a desirable place to live – at least compared to some of the Balkan states. And therein lay the problem. Economic migrants. There had hitherto never been any great necessity for border controls. Immigration was not yet a problem, but it was heading that way.

One – I hesitate to say asset, but I can't think of a better term – left by the Communists was the complex of barracks. Poorly built, austere and ugly, but potentially useful. He took the problem to his advisers. Again. When he suggested his solution, they were disturbed, to say the least, but they couldn't think of any good reason to advise against. After all, law in Centrovia was what Gerhardt said it was. The barracks blocks were tarted up and fitted with modern plumbing, heating and electricity. The high fences were removed as he didn't want to keep prisoners; if they got out, they could leave the country and good riddance. Well ... mostly.

The men were easy. They were, for the most, part set to low-wage labouring to improve the country's infrastructure. The women – and a few of the men – were another matter, and what he proposed for them was what disturbed his advisers. He wanted to set up nothing less than a state whorehouse. On a large scale. The workers within would come from three sources. Some would actually be criminal offenders, whose rights therein would be very limited. Most would be female migrants, who would be given the choice of working there, or being returned whence they came. A few would be male migrants who were used, shall we say, to an 'alternative lifestyle'. The tarted-up barracks – that part which would be used as a brothel – were linked together with each other and a new-build reception area. One block, of course, had a rather higher level of security, as it would house the women who had actually done something wrong.

The 'problem' was approaching critical by the time the alterations were completed and the Gendarmerie began to round up the ladies, the men having been put to work some time before. There were maybe a hundred women gathered in the great hall of the castle when Duke Gerhardt arrived to address them.

"Ladies!" He projected his voice firmly, but without shouting. The noise level subsided until there was a tense silence. "Thank you. None of you are citizens of my country, and the expense you represent has become a problem to me. Not so much personally, as in my persona as Head of State. This country cannot, unfortunately, support you, much as I would like to..."

"Are you going to deport us?" A voice from the middle of the crowd.

"I'm getting to that. I'm going to offer you all a choice. Now, neither of your options may be what you want, but they are all I can offer. I will be blunt. The first option is that you are returned to the place from whence you came. If that means you are at risk of your life, I will consider permitting you to apply for asylum in the West. Not here. As I say, we cannot support you all. Option two is that you work. The problem being that the only work we can offer is in ... sexual services."

There was a sigh, mixed with groans and muttered protests.

"If you choose the second option," he went on, "your accommodation, food and medical care will be free. And I promise we will try to look after you. You will receive a proportion of your earnings on a sliding scale, and that will be placed on deposit until you decide to leave, at which time you will get the money and an honest reference which will, however, not contain any reference to sexual services. That should make you more acceptable to one of the wealthier countries to the west. One more thing. If you're a virgin, that makes a difference. We'll discuss that with anyone it applies to, though the basic choice remains. Just now, I'm going to leave you for half an hour to think about what you want. If you wish to leave, you may do so at any time. Remaining in this room beyond the half hour will imply consent."

When the Duke left the hall, a buzz of conversation ensued that grew in volume. Some women, usually in twos and threes, drifted to the door and out. They were escorted to a holding area before being transported to their country of origin. There were not many. Over eighty women, ranging in age from fifteen upwards, remained in the hall when the Duke returned.

"Well, ladies. This is how it's going to work. Things will probably be a bit slow at first. Each day, your first customer's fee goes to the House. Thereafter, the second fee, you get ten percent, the third twenty, and so on. Some of you," he went on, referring to the fact that some of the women were older and not all were raving beauties, "may not have many customers. Anyone who is willing to do some work round the House will be paid at the rate of ten Euros per hour for cleaning or cooking. You will all have a contraceptive implant and condoms will be used, as well as weekly medical checks. Any of you with skills, for example in hairdressing, may receive extra money for exercising your skills. I think that's all I have to say in general terms for the moment. With the exception of any virgins present, please leave to be escorted to your rooms. If you have any questions, your escort will make a note of them. Virgins, please stay."

A hand waved in the middle of the crowd. "Sir ... Duke... ?"

"Sir is fine."

"What if we've never been with a man, but lost our ... hymen ... for some reason?"

"You will be examined by a female doctor. I understand she will be able, usually, to tell if you are a virgin even if your hymen is damaged or gone."

There was a general, low, muttering and a slow exodus from the room. Just over twenty women remained.

"Thank you, ladies. Your condition as virgins mean you are worth a substantial sum of money for your first time, so you will not be working until we have someone who is willing to pay and who we are satisfied will not abuse you."

"Sir?" A very pretty brunette in her teens spoke.

"You are?"

"Nastya Kornikova, sir. Sir ... are you married? Have a concubine? A harem?"

The expression of surprise on his face caused a ripple of giggles to pass through the group. "No, Nastya, to all those. I was intending to patronise the House from time to time. Would you like to volunteer?"

"Sir, I think almost all of us here would volunteer."

There was a hubbub of affirmative noises and the Duke raised his hands, smiling. The noise subsided. "I hadn't considered that as a possibility. Let me think about it. For now, please get into groups of three or four, as you will be sharing rooms until you are in the general population, then you will be escorted to your new home."

Once the women had left, the Duke called his Seneschal. "Dieter ... one of the girls raised a tempting possibility."

"Your Grace?"

"As you know, my father's habits I found ... reprehensible. But I admit some feminine company would be enjoyable. One of the girls, one of the virgins, asked if I had a harem. I think I rather like the idea. Between five and ten women, various ages and descriptions ... ages between fifteen and thirty-five. Could you get them interviewed? Select – I don't know, maybe fifteen – who are intelligent and personable. They don't have to be educated, but they have to be willing to be educated. I will make the final selection. What do you think?"

Chapter 2 »