Duke Gerhardt's Solution
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2014 by Tedbiker

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Duke Gerhardt had a problem - or, rather, the country he ruled had a problem - his solution was not politically correct, and shocked his advisers. If you're used to my writing, this one may shock you, too, so check the codes carefully. Some relate to later chapters. This is not romantic, though there is a little romance here or there.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Rape   Coercion   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Voyeurism   Double Penetration   Slow   Prostitution  

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?"

"I approve, Your Grace. Would you be willing for your male staff to, um, sponsor one of the girls for themselves? To be responsible for their support, a stipend and well-being in return for sex?"

"Why not? Perhaps they might be willing to look among the other girls, too, not just the virgins."

"Yes, Your Grace. I thought that. There were, um, several among the others I quite, um, took a fancy to, you might say."

The Duke looked fondly at the older man with a smile. "You old goat! As long as the girls aren't abused and everyone takes their responsibility seriously, why not?"

It took a week, but the Duke ended up with eight women – including Nastya – ranging in age from fifteen (telling her she would share his bed on her sixteenth birthday) to thirty-one. The oldest woman was perhaps the loveliest. Not fashionably slim, she was none-the-less elegant, graceful and sexy, not to mention one of the most intelligent. Gisela was of medium height, with long, wavy, dark red hair and green eyes. A slight epicanthic fold betrayed a hint of Mongolian in her ancestry. Less than a year after the establishment of the harem, the Duke asked her to stop taking her contraceptive pills and she duly produced him an heir. He ignored outside opinion and married her. Most of the other girls were granted Centrovian citizenship, left the harem and married, but Nastya remained. She eventually contributed two daughters to the Duke's growing family and served as a happy and devoted nurse and nanny to the next generation as well. But back to the story.

The House was called the 'Seraglio'. Strictly speaking, that word refers to a Sultan's harem, but Duke Gerhardt wanted a title that implied something rather more upmarket than 'brothel' or 'bordello'. The girls were introduced to their rooms. Trade was slow at first, consisting almost entirely of tourists. Most tourists up to that point were not really interested in prostitution ... Maybe the best way to tell the story would be through the words of some of the girls...

Valeria – a migrant.

I was born in Moldova. As I got to my teens I heard stories about other girls like me; yeah – I'm pretty, with decent tits. Some just disappeared. I knew some who said they'd been offered a job in the West; Belgium maybe, or Germany, but after they left I never heard from them again. Word got around that they ended up as prostitutes and with no way out other than death. But what could I do? There was no work for a girl, even one who could speak and read three languages. Besides, who wants to work yourself to death on a farm? There was a boy, a year or two older than me, who suggested we go west, together. I knew him, knew his family, so I shrugged and went along. He took my virginity the first night. It hurt, and was messy and didn't do a thing for me except make me walk funny the next day, but he seemed to think he owned me from then on.

After that, it didn't hurt, particularly. I even thought I might get used to it. But a few days later I saw him talking to a man, and the next thing I knew I was being shown into a hotel room, where the man told me to strip. When I didn't obey immediately, he slapped my face. I was scared; he was big and a lot stronger than me, so I undressed. He made me suck his cock and squeezed my tits while I did it. Well, I started to get wet – you know, down there – so when he pulled out of my mouth and pushed me down onto the bed, pushed my legs apart, it wasn't so bad. In fact after a while – he went on fucking me for ages – I actually had an orgasm. I didn't know what it was, at the time; it was sort of like a ball of heat in my belly and my muscles all tensed up and shook and this incredible sensation took over my body. I guess he liked it, 'cos he came buckets in my pussy.

"That was pretty good, Kid," he said, "I wouldn't mind some more of that."

Vadim got seventy Euros for that fuck. Gave me twenty. Gee. Anyway, the man talked to Vadim. I don't think Vadim wanted to do without his nightly fuck, but more money changed hands and I had to spend the night with the man.

Well. He made me shower with him. It was scary at first, but he made me feel good as he ran his hands over my body. When we got to the bed ... he ... put his mouth on me. On my pussy. It was fantastic. After I orgasmed maybe three times, I lost track ... He had me ride him on top. That was great, because I could change the angle to get the best feelings. When he came, he had me suck him again. I thought it'd be nasty, but it wasn't too bad, really, and he got hard again. He did me in what they call 'doggie' position. I didn't know, then. But he kept going a long time before he came again. Thing is, Vadim only went a little while, came once, and went to sleep. I decided I quite liked what this stranger was doing to me.

In the morning, he fucked me again then tried to persuade me to go with him instead of Vadim. It was tempting, but I decided it was safer to go with Vadim. One thing I got out of it was knowing a man could go more than once, and lasted longer the second time, so I got Vadim to let me get on top after I'd sucked him, and I managed to get off myself then.

We hitch-hiked westwards. Mostly it was thanks to me 'rewarding' drivers with my body, and eventually found our way to Centrovia. The people were hospitable and I made a bit of money on my back, so we did okay. Then the Gendarmerie came knocking. They separated us and put Vadim to work. I thought that was fair enough, though I didn't care for being kept in a cell with several other women until we were taken to hear the Duke.

The offer seemed like a decent deal to me. They put me in a room with its own shower, toilet, wash basin and bidet. There was a television, too. They gave me an implant to stop me getting pregnant. I guess I was lucky not to get knocked up before.

Anyway, it was a couple of days before I got a customer, which was a bit boring, and there was only one that day. The next day, three of his friends came, one after the other. They were young – mountaineers – pretty fit. So I had an hour with each and got them off twice each. I really liked the shower and bidet to clean up after each time, especially when a couple of them ate my pussy. I don't suppose they'd have done that if I hadn't cleaned up. I got a few orgasms out of it, and about twenty Euros, I guess.

They must have liked it, because two of them came back the next day, bringing three friends. The last one asked if I did anal. I didn't understand, and when he explained I thought it sounded gross, but he was willing to pay extra. There was some jelly stuff in the bedside cabinet I hadn't needed before. In fact I didn't know what it was for, but he used it, then put his fingers in my bottom. Then he stuck his cock in there. It hurt a bit, but he wasn't brutal about it. He explained that some men liked to go two at a time, one in each hole. I could make extra money that way.

He was right. I got pretty popular until their group left and a couple of times I spent an hour with two at once. I got off, though I can't say I really liked it. The Warden told me I was credited with two hours for the one I spent with them, and that was worth about fifty Euros.

I was with the Seraglio two years, and left with a nest egg of about thirty thousand Euros. I wouldn't have left, I mean I was having fun and making money hand over fist. I had no expenses, was looked after, well fed and comfortable. But a young man came and liked me so much he paid for two hours every day and begged me to leave with him. He promised he wouldn't hold my past against me, and he really hasn't. The Duke gave me a Cetrovian passport, but I don't need it any more. Maxime married me and we're living in Liege. His parents weren't too pleased at first, but they've warmed to me, especially since the birth of our son, Julien. I'm taking correspondence courses, which I started in Centrovia. I speak German and French pretty fluently, and some English, too. I stay at home with Julien now, but I've had offers of work in coffee bars and I might do that when Julien is old enough for school.

I know some people think Duke Gerhardt isn't a good man, but I'm very grateful to him.

Chapter 2 »