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Secret Pastimes Of The Queen


I did not like the plan at all. I, the Black Pearl, carried to the House of
Duke Ustaellung as a common pleasure-slave?

But it was the only way I could inside and speak with him, as he would
not receive a barbarian outlander otherwise. My accomplices in the
palace promised to help me. The message from the rebels must be
delivered promptly.

Late in the afternoon I was spirited inside the walls. J'wabra covered me
with a cloak and took me past the magnificent public rooms, their
scented gardens, rich furniture with cushion of silk, legs dusted with
gold. Through a series of secret passages only trusted palace servants
knew we entered the concupiscerium.

It seemed a sensual odor rolled out immediately to greet us. Indolent,
spicy, musky. Echoes of flesh, of new-mown hay, of ambergris and
heavy perfume. The polished marble walls of the concupiscerium were
lined with niches in which each was a human statue. Men and women
in alteration, each one of them naked and gilded with silver or gold.
Women had their legs spread far apart, feet chained flat to the floor
with their arms bound behind them, while the men stood with legs
fastened together and their arms spread above their heads, wrists
chained to the sides of their niche. None looked up. They looked like
sculptures, but were alive, breathing.

"Are they always bound so?" I asked J'Wabra.

"No. After all, the functions of the body must be attended to. They serve
shifts of six hours each, after which they go back to their grooms or the
pleasure halls. Some think of it as a penance, others a pleasure."

I stole another look. "How do they stand it? How come they do not go
mad?"

"They are well-trained," he said with a smile.

I still did not see the sense of the display. "Why have so many to serve
merely as decorations, instead of being used as the other slaves are?"

"Who says they are not used? We servants take many liberties as we
make our rounds." I was shocked. It was horrifying, and tantalizing, to
imagine these captives stroked and teased in their utter immobility.

"You don't!"

"I don't. However, there are some who do. They must be very careful,
however. If they are caught, they must serve themselves a night and a
day in the slave's place. As servants are generally not so attractive
orÉwell-endowed as the slaves, such impersonations cause great
hilarity, and much mockery of the one so caught." I looked again to
either side. I saw what he meant by well-endowed. Every male slave was
primed to a one, the erect cocks gleaming under gilding. The women
were lush and rounded, seeming to swell with the steaming juices that
must build in them during their motionless, lovely vigil.

"Why don't they fight it?" I asked. "They are constrained, yet so still.
Almost as if they sleep."

"They are lost in erotic dreams no doubt. Besides, there are worse
treatments than that for incorrigible slaves. Look to the ceiling."

I did. High above us, hanging from the carved and painted beams, were
a line of human chandeliers that stretched far ahead of us, and far
behind. They had been hung with their wrists and ankles fastened
equidistantly to a metal hoop so they dangled helplessly beneath it. A
dish of burning oil was suspended over the naked back or belly of each
slave.

"The slightest move," J'Wabra said, "and the burning oil spills.
Understand?"

I understood. I no more looked up, keeping my eyes on the tiled stone
floor of the hall in front of us. The tiles were laid in a diamond pattern,
malachite, lapis, mottled jasper, turquoise jade like the milk of glaciers.
Between the niches of the gilded slaves were sculptures or urns of
flowers. Beauty and taste, taste and beauty, arranged in alteration as the
gilded slaves were. From time to time we met another noble, but they did
not even glance at us, taking us merely for an eccentric visitor and her
servant. My dark skin I knew marked me as a visitor from the Adjuaak
lands far to the southeast. I could be a ambassador a guest of the Queen.
Which I had been, but not now. Now I was a spy.

My mouth tightened. "J'Wabra, where are your friends?"

"In here." Inside were two nobles, some servants, even a few slaves.
They jumped as if surprised. As rebel sympathizer in the heart of
Shezrine's palace, they understandably were very cautious. "This is
Lady Tanimury, otherwise known as the Black Pearl of Pharazion. She is
one of our sympathizers, and carries a message for Duke Ustaellung
from the King. She will carry our own if we wish."

They looked me over. They saw a tall, dark woman, thin yet muscular,
with the crinkly sable hair of the svannah peoples. A trained
swordswoman.

To my surprise one of the slaves was the red-haired slave girl that had
abetted the Queen's rites at her private reception that night. "I am
surprised to see you here," I said. I could not keep the cold feeling out of
my voice.

"I could not help but obey," she said evenly. "When you are a slave
disobedience is death, or something worse. I did not like doing that to
poor Tanjoura, but thankfully she did not know I was a rebel. She knew
very few of us, actually. Shezrine was right in her suspicions, but had
overestimated the value of her catch."

"And where is poor Tanjoura now?" I said acidly. I couldn't help feeling
the slave was partly to blame, even if she did have to unwillingly carry
out her role.

"We will talk about that later," one the nobles said, cutting off the
conversation and turning it to more important matters. "For now, I must
give you a message you will convey to the Duke."

"Am I not to carry it with me, on a slip of paper?"

"You are going in the guise of a slave," J'Wabra said evenly. "I'm afraid
pleasure slaves travel naked, my lady. All your orifices will likely be
examined also, not to find secret messages, but simply as course in the
preparations before you are sent. I will have to speak it to you, and you
will remember."

He did, and I repeated it several times, to make sure I understood.

J'Wabra waited nersoudly. I realized no names had been given. It was
exigency of the mission, in case I be found out and tortured for them. It
was likely too we were only safe in this room for a while longer. The
message done,the others left. "Good luck to you, my lady."

I turned to J'Wabra. "Now what?"

He licked his lips nervously. His round bland face suddenly looked
troubled. "She will prepare you," he said. "I will wait outside." And he
left too.

The slave girl regrded me coolly. "You've seen the other slaves in the
palace and in the city in the short time you've been here. You must
have some inkling of what it might be like for you to adopt the role of
one of them, even for a short while."

"I realize," I said, but my heart was thumping fast. "I have no objections
to being naked. The people of my homeland have gone that way for
centuries. We still do, in the privacy of our clannal longhomes."

"You will have to perform, also."

I laughed. "I am no blushing virgin. I realize what I am doing and for
what cause."

Her eyes measured. She looked like a genuine human being now, not the
blank-eyed doll that had mindlessly pleasured the unfortunate noble.
Perhaps it was just an act. It dampened the overwhelming erotic effect
of that perfect, sculpted flesh. She was not naked now but wore a short,
simple robe. "I am glad. I know you understand. Do you know Queen
Shezrine is not the dominatrix she proclaims herself to be? She is not
only a monster, but a liar as well."

"How do you mean?"

"I will tell you. Later that night after Tanjoura was sent from the palace
the Queen called me to her chambers to attend her. She already had a
man with her, a young prince from a neighboring city-state her beauty
had ensnared. He was besotted with her. Eyes shining, he did whatever
she said. And she did not even have to use her magic! My job was to aid
them in their lovemaking, not necessarily to participate, but to handle
and clean the instruments of their passion, dress and undress them,
fetch wine or other things to drink for them. She thought no more of
me being there than she would of an animal. That's how she sees her
slaves. You heard it the other night.

"The prince was very young, no more than eighteen I think. The Queen
toyed with him the same she would with a slave, and he gasped and cried
like a slave. They did things his young mind could not even dream
about, much less imagine. I brought them chilled wine and trays of
exotic foodstuffs when their passion had cooled. They ate and rested,
waiting til the hunger grew strong again, talking of inconsequential
things.

" 'Massage me,' Shezrine purred. That was the signal for me to open the
hamper and present him with a selection of oils and ungeants to excite
and enhance lovemaking. In all things I kept my head down, my knees
on the floor, my posture abject. I was garnished such as you saw in the
Queen's receiving room, but the prince did not notice me, as Shezrine
outshone me like a great blaze outshines the flicker of a candle.

"He massaged her. The Queen rolled over on her breasts and belly,
presenting her backside. 'What is this?' he said in alarm. He was staring
at her basilisk brand.

"What an innocent he was. Pale, dewy skin, strong shoulders, yet a
delicate, vulnerable face under his golden prince's beard. The Queen
made an amused noise. 'A slave's brand, same as with all the other slaves
of Obn Dhregni, the City of Carnality. For I, too, am a slaveÑa slave to my
state, a slave to the throne and the ultimate power it represents. For how
can I enslave others if I know nothing of slavery and the price it
exacts?' "

The young prince was fascinated. He stroked her strong, lean buttock.
Her skin shone like silk under the oil he rubbed there. It smelled of
spice and rain. The Queen half-closed her eyes like a contented cat. She
liked him doing that to her. She enjoyed his wonder, the faint
undertone of revulsion, and the fact he would not dare mention either
to her.

"She gave forth a dusky laugh. 'Slaves are the lucky ones, not I,' she
said.

"The prince was alarmed. 'Why is that?' he said. He of course had already
spent some time in the palace and city, seen the way they were treated.

" 'Because their lives are so simple. They wish only to please the one in
command of them. That is all. Look at this one.' She pulled me closer. 'See
how she diligently attends us. That is all she thinks of. No thoughts of
tomorrow, or of the day before. It is a beautiful thing.' She gently
pinched my cheek. 'What is your name, little pet?' "

" 'I have none, my Queen,' I said. It was the conditioned response we are
all taught to make. 'I do not not need one to serve you.'

"Shezrine laughed. 'You see? No thoughts even of the self.'

"Now I will tell you we do have names among ourselves to which our
keepers refer, otherwise they could not keep track of us, but to the
Queen we are all interchangeable. I wonder if she knew how much I
hated her that night, how wrong she was about us. I would like to rip
the flesh from her face, the witch!

"But I had to keep up my act of abjectness, and only bowed my head
meekly. And as she always does, she must stroke me then, bringing to
flower the passions that brew in us always to prove her mastery over
our flesh. My nipple chains fairly danced with it, and of course I was
aroused. But I felt no devotion or desire to serve her, make sure of that!

"I was sent then to a corner of the room where I would wait as they
conversed. Shezrine was in a talkative mood. She was not half so
talkative with the other bed partners I had seen her have. The wine had
loosened her. And too, I suppose she wanted to shock and scandalize and
titillate this young princeling. 'Every so often,' she said, 'three or four
times a year, I disguise my appearance and have my courtiers bind me
as a common slave, and they take me down to the Market Square and sell
me on the auction block. No one knows who I am; they see but an
anonymous piece of flesh. For the next few days, I am then subject to
the same cruelties, humiliations, and debasements that the common
slaves are. From this, I learn how things fare in my city. I learn, too, of
plots that are being hatched against me, for who would stay their
tongue in the precense of a slave? I have picked dates in the hills north
of the city; been whipped for insolence in a tavern south of the palace
mount; moaned under the weight of a common trash-hauler in a public
concupiscerium. Naked, hairless, and gleaming with oil, I marched with
hundreds of others, all property of the Merchant House of Zantongo, to
an unknown fate far in the west. On a small farm in Chuven I was
shackled to a turn-wheel to churn milk into butter. Gilded with gold
paint, hung with jewels, I took my place as a slave statue, amidst
hundreds of other slave statues, to ornament the halls of my own palace.
There are many paths for a slave, love, some of them quite delicious in
their subjugation, their utter loss of selfhood. I find it a refreshing
change from the throne.'

"I was shocked at her escapades and by the fact she actually found
pleasure in them. But I was a slave, and who cared what I thought? 'But
what if there is a mistake?' the young prince said. 'Suppose no one
believes you are the Witch-Queen of Odn Dhregni, and you stay a slave
forever?'

"Don't be foolish, when I wish to return to the throne I simply throw off
my shackles and disappear. Who can hold the Witch-Queen against her
will? And as for remaining a slave foreverÑis that so bad?' A deceptively
innocent smile, full of feral knowledge, appeared on Shezrine's face.
'And how would you like being a slave, my young prince?'

"The prince looked at once insulted and very confused. I could clearly
see her confession had aroused him again. He did not keep slaves in his
city. He didn't understand. 'I would rather remain free, your majesty,'
he said carefully.

"The Queen roared with laughter, throwing back her head. 'I could very
easily make you give a different answer. But I will not.' "

He kissed her passionately, crushing her pendulous breasts against his
strong, well-muscled chest. He already was her slave, in a way. With his
other hand he spread her legs, stroking the silky hair between them.

" 'No,' the Queen said urgently. 'This time we shall do things differently.'

"He looked puzzled, but she had already given me orders to open the
casket that lay at the foot of the bed and bring her what was in there. I
did. A wooden pole about three feet long, a whip, a long length of rope, a
leather case which I knew held a selection of phalluses. I immediately
thought I was to be the victim of the tools, but the Queen had other ideas.
In a low, coaxing voice she told the prince of her plans. His confusion
returned. She continued, tempting him, turning round his mind. She
lulled him with her voice alone. She did not need her witch's magic to do
this. It was her native power, her long years of experience.

"If I was not to be the victim, neither was the prince. The Queen lay face
down on the bed as the prince bound her as she had instructed him to.
Needless to say I was very surprised. I had never heard of Shezrine
behaving so. She had always taken pain to act the opposite. Now her
pose was revealed as a lie. This was what she really hungered for.
Hungered for so badly she did not dare enact it with a citizen of her own
city but with a foreigner.

"Shezrine looked like a fowl fit for roasting when he had done. Her legs
were stretched wide apart and bound tightly to the ends of the pole,
which was then brought up over her back. Then her wrists were tied
behind her and secured to the middle of the pole. I could not imagine a
more helpless position. Her sex couldn't have been any more exposed. It
looked like a pink silk purse stretched wide, its edges trimmed with
mink. I saw the lips of it move. 'Look at it, prince,' the Queen said,
already becoming very aroused in this ignomious position. I could tell
from the strain in her voice. And he hadn't even done anything to her
yet! 'This wet and hungry mouth, see how it is starving. Don't you want?
Wouldn't you like to take it, possess it?'

"Of course he did, he was so erect it must have been painful, the cock
colored almost magenta. But the Queen's knees and the wooden pole were
in the way. The Queen squirmed on her belly, making the satin
bedcover bunch up around her. She raised her head as much as she
could and looked behind her. 'Don't you want to take it? You can do it,
with your mouth.' Her words were a lewd hiss. 'You can pleasure
yourself with your hands as you do so.'

"And the prince did, quite vigorously, moaning as he did so. And the
Queen moaned too, pressing her face against the satin, making sounds
that sounded like she was suffering the worst of tortures.

" 'Enough,' she hissed. 'Leave off! Enough!' The prince withdrew,
obeying the tone in her voice, even though he had not come to orgasm,
was as unsatisfied as he had been in the beginning. 'You see that
leather case? Open it.'

"With eager, trembling hands he did so, and stared in apprehension at
the phalluses. The Queen hurriedly gave him instructions in their use.

" 'Oh, I cannot,' the prince begged. 'Your majesty, wouldn't you ratherÑ'

" 'I know the magnitude of what I want,' Shezrine said in that urgent,
pained voice. If she had the organ of a man concealed deep within her
body, which sometimes I believe she does, it would now be colored so red
as to be almost black! 'Take them, put them in. Do it now, love.'

"The prince flushed scarlet, but he took the largest of the phalluses and
pushed it deep into her minjŽ. One phallus was not enough for her.
Another was chosen and inserted, with lubrication, into her anus. Both
were fixed to her with leather straps. The Queen panted at the prince's
touch, mouthing the bedcovers, her contortions wilder than any slaves'
I had ever seen. It was obvious she was highly excited.

" 'The whip,' she panted.

"'The prince commenced to lash her. Her eyes shut and she gasped at
each stroke. It was not a large instrument; it was short and of the type
that has many tails that covered a large area of flesh in one stroke. I
knew it stung, having been hit with it myself, but no mark appeared on
her skin. A magical safeguard, no doubt. The prince was reluctant with
it at first, but eventually even he became excited. His strokes grew
harder, more powerful. With his other hand he pleasured himself. He
had adapted swiftly to this game. The Queen moaned, sweat breaking out
on her silky, muscular body. She flexed her back up and down.

" 'The gag, the gag,' she moaned.

"The prince did not know what this was so I had to dig it out for him and
show him how it was used. He shoved the leather in the Queen's mouth
and she bit down on it lovingly, her expression one of ecstasy as he
buckled it behind her head. Now that she was gagged she became freer
with her cries. Her body writhed and bounced, marvelously elastic. Her
cries became hoarser, at once triumphant and abandoned. The long
soles of her feet drew up as the prince swung his arm, then curled as
the blow hit. Her sex was red and shining. The phalluses and the straps
that held them looked marvelously degrading, black plugs that
protruded from the creamy mounds of her buttocks. I would have been
happy she was so tortured, but she got so much pleasure from it! And it
was clear to me that even in this she was in command, as she forced the
young prince to be the instrument of this forbidden passion.

"Again and again the blows hit. She ground her face in the covers,
moaning. Her buttocks tightened, loosened, then tightened again
around the rim of the phallus she was helpless to expel. Her body
quivered under the whip. It even licked her sex and the inner skin of
her thighs, and this brought louder cries from her.

"Finally her passion reached its climax. Babbling incoherently behind
her gag, her flesh convulsed. Her back arched, her head lifted. Her
whole body went rigid as if she had been turned to stone. I have no
doubts that she would have liked to preserve herself at the pinnacle of
this debilitating, deliciously shameful orgasm and take her place,
petrified, on a marble pedestal for all to see.

"But she sank down again, damp, satiated. She flicked her hair away
from her face. She breathed deeply.

"The prince took off her gag. 'Well done, prince,' she said gently. She
kissed him on the mouth. He had reached orgasm too and from his limp
pliability I knew it had been just as powerful and draining for him. 'A
lesson well learned, I think, and one that will give you much pleasure
in your native city. Now, take the rest of the rope, and secure me to that
hook on the ceiling above the bed. From there I would watch you take
your pleasure with the slave. Replace my gag, and secure it to the pole
so my head is raised.'

"It was just as shocking an order as the one to first bind her had been,
but he obeyed her without question. I helped him hoist her up. The
white bitch! She had done that to us so many times, teased us to pleasure,
then bound us and set us to watch as she took another. I never dreamed
she was envious of the torment she inflicted.

"So the prince had me in the most conventional of ways as the bound
Queen swung above us on the hook, her wide eyes staring down on us,
her hair a pale scarf that moved gently with her movements. And we
slept that way, with the hook creaking above us with its burden.

"In the morning I was quickly whisked back to the pleasure-halls. The
Queen, of course, had freed herself during the night and was now in her
audience chamber with her ministers. There was never any doubt she
could not have freed herself, given her powers. None at all.

"So that is my tale of the Queen. Someway, somehow, this knowledge can
be used against her. How I do not know."

I was deeply interested in the slave's story. It told me a lot, explained to
me about Shezrine's behavior. Perhaps there was some wayÉ

The little slave put a hand on my arm. "I must instruct you now. We
haven't much time before the palanquins go out. Listen to me carefully.
Your life may depend on it."






End of Story