The Amazon Queen

The Amazon Queen

by RiverOtter

Warning! Adult Content!

This story contains strong sexual content and is intended for mature audiences and is not suitable for minors.

This story is copyrighted © 2007 by RiverOtter. This story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead, is unintended and purely coincidental. It may not be sold or redistributed for profit in any form. Archiving and posting online is permitted if the story is kept intact in its original form, and proper credit is given.

Sincere comments, feedback and criticism are welcome.

Characters are listed at the beginning of chapter 1.

* * *

Chapter 10: Adopted Family

Gwendolyn, Penelope's sister, Queen of Avalonia by virtue of having removed the competition for the job, could think of several places she would have preferred to be, all of them far from here. She sat on the throne of her small but prosperous kingdom, head rested on her chin, brow furrowed, trying to look like a proper Queen. She listened to her chief of finances explain why her kingdom wasn't quite so prosperous as it had been since before she took power and cast out her sister Penelope.

Gwendolyn blamed her stepmother. This wasn't nearly so easy as that woman had led her to believe. The conniving, seductive woman had convinced her to rebel against Penelope, and gave stepmothers everywhere a bad name, the young Queen thought. Whoever heard of a wicked stepmother, she thought? (Gwendolyn had never been much of a reader).

“Well,” she said to the finance minister, “Can't we just mint more money to pay for everything?”

The minister sighed uneasily and tried to explain, as best he could without angering the new Queen, the relative values of currency and the basic principles of economics, and why simply printing more money didn't actually make a kingdom wealthier.

Gwendolyn feigned understanding and dismissed him. She was a beautiful girl, but had never been a serious student, nor was she particularly bright. As the younger sister, not as much had been expected of her and it was easy for her to get by on looks. She had the same almond shaped face as her sister, only her mouth was smaller, her cheekbones softer, and her forehead a little broader, giving her a more youthful, girlish appearance overall. Her hair was a lovely gleaming golden-brown that fell radiantly around her shoulders.

She was only seventeen, a young age for a Queen, to be sure. But as long as she had an older sister she herself would never rule at any age, and that had always made her intensely jealous. Everyone loved Penelope; her sister was so smart and so beautiful; everyone flattered her and everyone liked her. Well, Gwen had shown Penelope what she thought of that. Her older sister was imprisoned and then banished (the guards hesitated to say “escaped”), and Gwendolyn had taken the throne, but it wasn't what she thought it would be. Ruling was hard work, it turned out, and the people had not taken to Gwen the way they had her sister.

She arose and went to see her stepmother. The tall, slender woman named Eleanor spent a great deal of time in a new dungeon she had constructed, tormenting teenage peasant girls who happened to catch her fancy. Gwendolyn didn't quite understand her stepmother's tastes, but since the woman was the real power behind the throne she did pretty much whatever she wanted. Gwendolyn found her sitting in her private chambers, talking angrily to some officials of the kingdom. She dismissed them when Gwen came in.

“You're spending too much,” she told her stepmother. “We're losing all our money.”

“Don't lecture me, young lady,” said the older woman sternly. Eleanor was quite imposing. Tall and imperious, with impeccable curves that she emphasized with her tight corsets and dresses, she had a lovely pale face that always seemed to bear an expression of scorn. Her dark hair was done neatly into a bun behind her head, showing the lovely curve of her neck. Her beauty was a severe kind that frightened people as much as it impressed them. “I'll handle the finances, you just sit on your throne and look pretty.”

Gwen got angry. “Stop treating me like a child!” she said angrily. “I'm Queen now, and--”

“You are a child,” her stepmother interrupted her. “You're a figurehead, and if you ever forget that I'll take you down for a session in my dungeon.”

Gwendolyn was taken back by the threat. “You wouldn't dare,” she said.

“Who would stop me, hmm?” asked Eleanor. “Everyone here knows who's really in charge. You can enjoy your royal privileges, but don't interfere with my work.”

“You're running the kingdom into the ground,” accused Gwendolyn. “Getting mad at me won't change that.”

“I'll raise some more taxes and make those lazy peasants work harder,” said Eleanor haughtily. “Now go away before I lose my patience with you.”

Gwen's face flushed with anger and she stomped away. Such a spoiled brat, Eleanor thought, ungrateful for what she had been given. Now Eleanor needed to go into her dungeon to blow off steam.

Deep down in the dark cellar, lit only sporadically by torchlight, several thin, underfed girls lay curled up for warmth in their respective cells. They all recoiled fearfully at the sound of Eleanor's footsteps. Eleanor looked at them scornfully. They were the dregs of her society, mostly orphans, beggars and probably harlots, she thought; barely attractive enough for her own tastes. The streets were better off without them. Slavery had lapsed in the kingdom, it was true, but Eleanor could safely ignore that fact and even thought about reviving it.

She looked for one who wasn't in too bad shape from the last time Eleanor had come here, and settled on a slender, pale girl with short red hair and a pretty, freckled face. Eleanor removed her dress to reveal a black leather bustier and brief underneath, and long black leather boots that went up to her thigh. She unlocked the door of the girl's cell and went to get her. The nameless girl cowered and pleaded but was too weak to resist Eleanor's iron grip. The tall woman dragged her prey to an open area of the dungeon, ominously lit by flickering torches, where several instruments of torture lay.

“Stop your sniveling, wench, or I'll sew your mouth shut,” Eleanor threatened in her cold, fierce tone. The girl couldn't help herself and Eleanor forced a leather bit into her mouth, fastening it with straps behind the girl's neck. Eleanor took her by the arms and led her to a wooden x-shaped device, onto which the helpless girl's ankles and wrists were locked at each end. The queen mother took a bull whip and snapped it twice to warm up. The poor victim whimpered through her gag. Eleanor swung the whip at her, and muffled screams rang out through the dungeon. Eleanor smiled. This always made her feel better.

Gwendolyn herself was just a tad curious about her stepmother's strange tastes. There had been a time, after her father had died, when the older woman had taken the young princess into her bed and shown her pleasures the girl had never dreamt of, whispering promises of power and wealth if she would only help her stepmother overthrow the princess's undeserving sister. Gwen was known to be a bit loose in her morals.

Now she felt like a fool. She had been used, and there was little she could do about it. The person she really lusted after was, in fact, a handmaiden of her sister's, a beautiful blonde named Amber. Gwendolyn wanted to be with her more than anything else, but now Amber was gone too, banished to some remote island prison camp for her loyalty to Penelope. She could only hope the girl wasn't suffering too much because of her.

* * * *

Penelope found out she had three new sisters on the island of Lyria, all of whom were eager to meet and welcome her. Amazons were a tightly knit group, and they treated Penelope as one of their own as soon as she was formally adopted as one of them. Keira showed her around the village as soon as they had a morning free together. Together they visited the various vendors and workshops, looking for things Penelope might need.

“We also need to get food for the festival,” Keira explained.

“A holiday?” asked Penelope. “What will happen?”

“Well,” said her adoptive sister, “We sing, dance, drink, wrestle, that sort of thing. Until we get too tired. Then we drink a lot more.”

“It sounds interesting,” said the princess.

“It always is,” said her new sister. “You're our guest of honor; you'll have a carriage to yourself for the day. I've lent my own slave to be one of the ponies.”

“A woman...hitched like a horse? How...interesting,” said Penelope with curiosity. It seemed rather exotic to her. “But you don't have to go to any trouble for me, really.”

“Well, we don't get many foreign rulers here,” said Keira. “The tribe is quite proud.”

“I was a ruler,” said Penelope sadly. “But not anymore.”

“You may be one again,” said Keira. “My mother is more clever than you may know.”

Penelope's curiosity was quickly piqued. Was the Matron trying to plan something, she asked?

“That's all I can say for sure,” said Keira. “Right now, we need to build your prestige among the tribes here.”

They were walking to the merchants' square now, and looked at the various jewelry stands and shops.

“Is Talia pierced?” asked Keira.

“I believe her ears are pierced, yes,” said Penelope.

“What about her nipples? Her pussy lips?”

“I don't believe so; I would not have thought of that,” said the princess.

“Let's bring her here; we'll put some decorations on her.”

“I like that idea.”

* * * *

In the afternoon Penelope went back to the Matron's temple for more practice which never seemed to end. While she was there, she met with another new sister, Dawn, who welcomed her with an embrace, and insisted on taking a meal with the princess. Dawn was full of youthful energy and had a certain innocence about her; the young Amazon was also be fierce in her own way, and exerted tight control over her slave girl Claire, despite their difference in age.

“Let's eat something,” said Dawn. “She'll serve us.”

They sat on the edge of Dawn's bed as the nude slave, Claire, waited on them silently and gracefully. Penelope noted Claire's red hair, rosy lips and dark nipples and was quite taken with her; she wondered that a grown woman would be so subservient to a girl ten years younger then her. Dawn, for her part, was curious about anything and everything Penelope had ever done, especially about what it was like to be a queen and live in a castle.

“I want to visit your kingdom sometime,” said Dawn. “Will you take me along if you go back?”

Penelope smiled wistfully. “Someday, if I can, I'll take you.”

The princess looked at Claire, who smiled back sweetly. When the nude woman turned around to refill a wine glass, Penelope noted the reddish welts on her bottom, thighs and back. They looked perhaps two days old, depending on how severe they were.

“How long has Claire been with you?” asked Penelope.

“Almost a year now,” said Dawn. “She was a birthday present, in a way. It was the first day I was old enough to go with the others on a raid, and I captured her myself.”

“Are the slave girls all happy here?” asked Penelope, eying the marks on Claire.

“Of course,” said Dawn. “We keep them safe and disciplined. They have no worries at all. What do people in your homeland do if they can't fend for themselves?”

“Well,” said Penelope, “We have unfortunates who become beggars, or criminals. Harlots, too. We do what we can for them; sometimes they are put in prison.”

“Everybody has a place here,” said Dawn. “I'd hate to think what might happen to Claire, or Belle if we hadn't caught them.” Suddenly, Dawn alighted from the bed. “I want to go get you something,” she said. “Claire, keep Penelope entertained while I'm gone.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Dawn hurried out the chamber door. Claire set her wine tray down and a glass tipped over, spilling some wine into the carpet. Claire gasped and wiped it up hurriedly.

“It's all right,” said Penelope. “Dawn won't notice.”

“But I will tell her,” said Claire.

“Would she punish you for that?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“Well, I won't say anything, if that's what worries you. It seems so trivial.”

“That's not for me to say, Mistress,” said Claire humbly. “Would you let me massage you? I am quite experienced.”

“Since you ask so nicely,” said Penelope with a smile. She lay down on the bed and Claire rubbed the princess's back and shoulders methodically. It was very soothing.

“You're sore, Mistress,” said the redhead slave.

“I've had a rough few weeks,” said Penelope with a little laugh. “Mmm...that's good, Claire.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Claire's attentions relaxed her, and Penelope smiled warmly at the redhead slave, who smiled shyly back.

Dawn came in again, carrying some kind necklace. Penelope rose and sat on the edge of the bed again to see what it was when Claire spoke up.

“I'm sorry, Mistress, but I spilled your wine glass,” said Claire. “The carpet has a stain.”

Dawn sighed and put the necklace aside. “I trained you better than that,” she said with annoyance. “Put your hands on the bed,” she ordered.

Claire placed her hands on the bed's edge, raised her bare bottom in the air and spread her legs apart.

“I'll show you what I mean by discipline,” the young Mistress said to Penelope.

She took a long switch from her shelf. It was a lacquered shaft of bamboo, the princess saw. It made a sharp hissing sound as Dawn swung it. It landed with a fleshy smack on Claire's exposed bottom. The slave exhaled sharply and let out a little moan. Penelope was startled. In her short time in the village she had not yet seen many slave girls punished.

There was a second smack, and Claire yelped. A deep red welt formed where the switch struck on her bare behind. With the third strike, Claire winced and shuddered, impressively keeping her composure. The fourth time she let out a moan, but didn't move. Dawn paced back and forth behind her, flexing her switch, a serious expression on her face, as she contemplated where she should strike next. Suddenly, with vicious force that belied her small stature, She swung the cane across Claire's backside, just below her buttocks.

“OOOWWW!” Claire cried out. All that she had been holding back now burst out in sobs. A second harsh swing across her left ass cheek gave her even more to cry about. Penelope was worried for her.

The next blow came on Claire's lower back, and the tears flowed freely now. To her credit, she kept her hindquarters raised and feet apart, hardly moving through the whole ordeal. Dawn Switched her bottom on each side quickly. For the tenth and final blow, she struck Claire directly across the bottom with full force, leaving a deep welt that ran across her ass.

“That's a good girl, Claire,” said Dawn. “You can get up now.”

“Th...thank you, M-Mistress,” the poor slave stammered.

Claire stood up to her full height and rubbed her bottom ever so gently. Dawn held out the switch to her and Claire kissed it. She also knelt and kissed Dawn's feet.

“Don't you think that was perhaps a bit...harsh?” asked Penelope gently. Claire's ordeal was arousing to watch, in its way, but her offense hardly merited such a painful punishment, the princess thought.

“She's used to it,” said Dawn. “She wouldn't have spilled the glass if she didn't want attention. She probably saw me talking to you and got jealous.”

“Would she really do that on purpose?” Penelope wondered.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Claire. “I did. I wanted Mistress Dawn to punish me. I'm sorry I distracted you. Please forgive me.”

“Lay down, silly,” said Dawn. She opened a drawer and took out a jar of salve. Claire lay on the bed so Dawn could rub it into the welts on her bottom. Claire moaned as her Mistress touched her sore skin.

“If I don't give her attention often enough she misbehaves, in order to make me,” explained Dawn.

“Oh? How long was it before now?” asked the princess, curious at the slave's behavior.

“Almost two days, Mistress,” said Claire.

“You wanted Penelope to see you get whipped, didn't you?” said Dawn.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You can't let your slave go too long without some kind of discipline or training,” Dawn explained. “She'll get restless, or moody. She needs to know you care about her, all the time. It can get tiring, but a good pleasure slave is really worth it.”

“I see; I'll remember that,” said Penelope.

Dawn moved her hand to the crotch of Claire's legs. “You're very wet, you naughty girl.”

Claire smiled unashamedly. Her tear streaks dried and she looked oddly content, like a woman who had just made love rather than getting whipped.

“Now Claire, you shouldn't interrupt us,” Dawn said to the older woman as though scolding a young child. “You can beg me for discipline when I'm not busy, if you want it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I'm going to put you in your cage for a while now,” said Dawn. “I'll check on you later.”

Claire looked downcast. This was a “real” punishment for her: Not to be whipped, but to be ignored completely. The Matron had scolded Dawn for whipping Claire too harshly once, almost drawing blood, though Claire had not complained. Sheila explained that to punish was simply to deprive a slave of something she wanted; it needn't be physical at all.

“May I come to your bed tonight, Mistress?” Claire asked pleadingly.

“If you're good.”

Claire's cage was long and low. The redhead slave crawled inside and lay comfortably on her side on the padded floor, massaging her sore bottom. Dawn locked the cage door and went outside for a walk with Penelope.

“When I started training her, she was so scared,” Dawn explained. “Now she begs for it.”

“She's fascinating,” said Penelope.

“You know, I'm being selfish,” said Dawn. “You can have her tonight. I'll bring her over to your home and she can return in the morning in time for her chores.”

“That's all right,” said Penelope. “She belongs to you, and I wouldn't want to impose.”

“Nonsense, you're my guest,” answered Dawn. “What's mine is yours. It's simple hospitality.”

“Well...” Penelope was clearly tempted. “I suppose she could keep me company tonight. My own slave, Talia, is being trained by Chandra at the moment, so I'm alone.”

“Here, take this,” said Dawn. She held out the necklace she had brought to the princess. It was an ornate jewel of the family crest on a silver chain.

“What is it for?”

“When Chandra came of age, mother gave it to her,” Dawn explained. “Then Chandra gave it to Keira before her first hunt, and Keira gave it to me before mine. I think you should have it now, since you're the newest sister.”

“That's very thoughtful; thank you.”

“I heard you were forced out of your home,” said Dawn indignantly. “That's not right. We should get the tribe together and go back there.”

“Oh, I know you mean well, but I don't want any blood shed on my account,” said Penelope. “This is my home for now.”

That evening, Dawn arrived with Claire at the princess's new home. She greeted Penelope and chatted for a while before leaving. The nude redhead remained kneeling on Penelope's floor, hands rested at her side. She made no attempt to cover herself.

“Thank you for coming, Claire,” said Penelope.

“It's my Mistress's wish,” said the curvaceous redhead woman. “I'm yours for tonight.”

“Is your backside feeling better?”

“Yes Mistress, thank you.”

“I'm not going to hurt you any more,” the princess said assuringly.

Claire smiled. “I don't mind if you do, Mistress.”

“Yes, I saw that. I'm curious...how did you come to be here?”

“Well...” said Claire, not entirely comfortable with the subject, “I was a woman of noble birth, and I lived on a manor estate called Whitehaven. When I was forced to marry against my will, I ran away and came here; I had no place to go. Dawn found me and claimed me for herself. She gave me a new home and a purpose. I've been hers ever since.”

“Whitehaven? You are an Avalonian?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I know the place...I believe I know your family.”

“Truly? They would not be happy to see me again; please don't tell them where I am.”

“I can't; and they wouldn't want to see me either; they rebelled against me.”

“Then I deserve to be a slave.”

“Of course not—it's not your fault. Come, I hope you're happy tonight with me.”

“I am, Mistress.” Claire smiled. She liked this beautiful princess, and was flattered that she took an interest in her. Penelope was radiant, and there was nothing pretentious about her.

“You do whatever she says?”

“Anything, Mistress. Well, there are certain rules we must follow. A slave cannot be injured or endanger her life in any way. She does not have that right.”

“The right?”

“Only free men and women can fight and risk their lives. I cannot even touch a weapon or do anything dangerous. Slaves are spared that in exchange for their obedience.”

“I see,” said Penelope. The Amazon mind set was beginning to make sense to her now. “And these services are often quite...intimate, I have seen.”

Claire smiled again. “Of course. A slave and her Mistress share a very special bond.”

“Would you like to show me?”

“Whatever you want,” said Claire. “You're my Mistress for now. I would be grateful for the chance to give you pleasure.”

“You say it so nicely,” said Penelope. “Let's come to my bedroom and you can show me exactly what you mean.”

The two women went to Penelope's small room and Claire disrobed the princess. Penelope loved Claire's luscious red hair and sweet countenance, but she found herself missing the ever faithful Talia. They spent hours kissing and caressing, and Penelope climaxed multiple times. The night with Claire was the most passionate she had yet experienced. The slave girl was not merely going through the motions, either; the beautiful redhead was very enthusiastic in her lovemaking, and she enjoyed Penelope's inexperienced but earnest attentions.

The next morning Claire was obligated to leave early to serve her owner. Penelope kissed her goodbye, and smiled—she had some new ideas for Talia, now.

* * * *

That night, when she finally had time, Penelope went with Talia to Chandra's home, so that the Amazon could demonstrate training techniques to her. From what Penelope heard, Talia was coming along well in her training, and Penelope was eager to see her new slave girl again.

Chandra came outside and greeted Penelope warmly. The princess was impressed with the way Chandra carried herself; the black haired Matron's daughter radiated a sense of calm but stern authority, like her mother.

In her hand, Chandra held a long chain that led inside past her door, and she tugged on it. Out crawled a teenage girl, forced by the lead on her collar. Her cheeks were painted a rosy pink, her light hair was done up in a pair of ribboned ponytails, and her hands were encased in mittens. Penelope noted the tail on her backside and how her legs were strapped to be permanently bent at the knee, so she always had to walk on all fours.

“This is Belle, my little pet,” said Chandra.

“She's adorable,” said the princess, kneeling down to get a closer look. “I've never seen such a sight before. Is she always like this?”

“It's all she can do,” said the dark haired amazon. “She's shy, but sweet once you get to know her. Hold out your hand.”

Penelope held her palm out to Belle's face. Belle didn't care to act for strangers, but Chandra pulled her leash tight so she couldn't crawl away, and Belle wanted to please her Mistress. She sniffed Penelope's hand and licked her palm. The princess gave a friendly laugh and smiled. Her voice and a pleasant, musical quality. She patted Belle's head and caressed her cheek. Belle smiled shyly and decided she liked Penelope.

Chandra led them all inside. Penelope admired the furnishings of her home, and the collection of training equipment behind the curtain impressed her. Chandra picked Belle up easily and put her in an open topped cage, and clipped her leash to a nearby wall ring. In the cage were a number of stuffed animals her Mistress had rewarded her with; like many teenage girls Belle wasn't quite so old that she no longer liked having them. Chandra tossed a large, colorful ball into the cage and Belle batted it around for her Mistress's amusement.

“I have everything ready,” she said, gesturing to her table. There was a neatly organized array of paddles, whips, canes and floggers; things Penelope had little experience with. Two chains hung down from the ceiling, a couple of feet apart, and Chandra raised Talia's wrist cuffs above her head and clipped them to the chains. She then spread the slave girl's legs apart and secured her ankle cuffs to rings on the floor. Chandra then took a black leather ball with two straps on each side, and put it in Talia's mouth. She buckled the straps behind the slave girl's neck, gagging her. Talia made no effort whatever to resist. She retained her normal, upright posture and looked around the room curiously.

“Shake your head side to side if you wish to plea for mercy,” said Chandra. Talia nodded calmly.

“She looks so vulnerable,” said Penelope, caressing Talia's bare skin. “I think it makes her more beautiful.”

“When she's properly trained, you won't have to restrain her at all,” said Chandra. “But you may wish to do so for your own amusement, of course.”

Penelope caressed Talia's breasts, and lowered her hand to rub the young woman's sex. Talia closed her eyes and moaned softly. Moisture began to collect between her legs.

“This way,” Chandra said, “Her body is totally at your disposal.”

Penelope nodded.

“We'll start with the paddle,” said the dark haired Amazon. She took up a round piece of wood covered in leather with a handle. “The narrower the implement, the sharper the sting and the deeper the welt it leaves. The paddle is wide so it is used for less serious punishments. It's good to use if all you want to do is chastise her.”

She gave Talia a solid smack on her bottom. The slave girl's hips lurched forward. Chandra smacked her again and again, alternating her blows on each cheek. The spanks were solid and landed with a meaty thwack on her flesh but not quite hard enough to cause Talia to cry out behind her gag.

“Use your whole arm to deliver the blow,” explained Chandra, “Not just the wrist. It will carry more force that way.” She swung wider this time, and landed a blow that resounded louder against Talia's exposed bottom. The bound slave reacted with a small muffled cry. Her skin rippled from the impact, and her hindquarters were now visibly red. Chandra picked up another paddle and handed it to Penelope. Small metal studs covered one side of this one.

“This one will make more of an impression,” she said. “Try a series of smaller, quick blows first,” said Chandra. “It warms a slave up nicely and gets them excited.”

Penelope did so, smacking Talia's bottom and lower legs repeatedly. She hit hard enough to redden her bottom but not enough to make her cry out.

“One generally starts lighter, and continues to strike harder and slower,” said Chandra. “But I like to vary the routine and keep the girl guessing what will come next.”

Penelope experimented, hitting Talia near the sides of the hips with medium force. Her slave recoiled a little, moving her leg as much as the chain allowed. Penelope pressed the paddle against Talia's stomach and moved it up and down against her stomach, pushing the cold metal studs against her flesh.

Chandra picked up flogger. The instrument was a leather handle attached to a number of dangling straps, like a bundle of little whips.

“You've seen one of these before?”

“Yes, to punish criminals,” said Penelope.

“It takes just a bit of practice,” said Chandra. “You can use it most anywhere on her body. It's better than a paddle for striking the front of the body.” She took the handle in one hand and the ends in the other, raised the flogger high and made a kind of downward snapping motion towards Talia. It made a meaty slap sound on her lower back that echoed in the room. The slave girl flinched. Chandra continued, working Talia's bottom and back, and handed the flogger to Penelope. The princess tried a few times and didn't quite hit with all the straps.

“You have to aim it,” said Chandra. “Get all the ends to hit her, otherwise it leaves uneven marks on her skin. Hold the end with your other hand and snap it.”

Penelope got the hang of it. She walked around Talia, striking her slave girl repeatedly on the front and back, even on her breasts. Talia grew excited by the blunt stings and breathed heavily. Her body swayed a little with each blow. She closed her eyes in a kind of reverie. Chandra took the flogger from Penelope and picked up another, now holding one each each hand. She struck both cheeks on Talia's bottom simultaneously. Talia moaned through her gag. Chandra hit hard and fast, swirling the bundles of whips around in the air. Talia raised her head, closed her eyes again and arched her back, presenting her hindquarters willingly to her tormentor. She moaned louder and louder.

“Feel her,” said Chandra after finally stopping. “I think she rather enjoys this.”

Penelope placed her and beneath Talia's legs, against her sex. Indeed, the young woman was quite moist from Chandra's attentions. “Let's try something a bit more intense,” the dark haired Amazon said.

She took a riding whip and snapped it in the air, giving Talia a start. She immediately went to work on Talia's bottom, and snapped the whip around her breasts and sex. Talia squealed and grimaced, sweating a bit this time. Penelope was impressed by the sight of Chandra whipping her. The Matron's daughter handed Penelope the whip, and held her hand, guiding her through the snapping motion. The princess raised it in the air to strike, and instead of fear, Talia gazed at her Mistress with a look of pure desire. Penelope brought it down with a crack against her chest. Talia gasped and drew back a little, as far as her chains would allow. Penelope paced around her, swinging the whip against her backside and legs, trying not to hit too hard, as she had not done this before.

The princess felt a surge of arousal that she had never experienced before. Talia stood helpless and naked before her, wanting Penelope to strike her, not caring about the pain as long as it was Penelope who administered it. She had never controlled anyone anyone like this before, not in this personal a way, in all her time as a ruler. She tried to coil the whip around Talia's body as Chandra had done, and eventually succeeded in striking Talia's breast from behind her. Talia let out a squeal after being stung in such a sensitive area, and Penelope felt a flush of satisfaction. When Penelope thought there were enough welts on Talia's body she stopped and looked at Chandra, who nodded and took the whip back. The welts weren't so bad they wouldn't mostly fade by morning, but Penelope was still afraid to leave marks of any kind on someone else. The knowledge that she had made some of them, however, excited her greatly.

Chandra picked up one last item. It was a large, full size bull whip that had lain coiled on the table. Penelope's eyes widened.

“You use those on people?”

“Sometimes, yes, but it takes skill,” Chandra said. “We probably don't have time to practice it tonight. I've been using one for a long time, and it's easy to cut yourself or someone else if you haven't used it before. We wouldn't want to cut poor Talia, of course.”

“Indeed.”

“Now, I'm going to take this off you, dear...” she unfastened Talia's gag. “And you're going to count six lashes.” Talia nodded nervously, knowing how much this could hurt. She seemed to look at Penelope for encouragement, believing her Mistress would not let anything too dangerous happen to her. Behind her, Chandra uncoiled the whip...

Crack! “Oww!” Talia inhaled deeply, and even Penelope was startled. A red mark, much deeper than the rest, formed across her bottom. “One,” she said bravely.

Crack! “Ouch!...two,” she held back a couple of tears. Chandra left a second red welt near the previous one the next two came around across her stomach and upper chest, just below her right breast.

Talia sobbed a little but counted in a fairly calm voice. Another stroke hit her upper leg, eliciting a gasp of pain before she counted, and the final ones left deep welts on her back. She panted heavily. The welts from this last instrument of pain were by far the worst, which was why Chandra had limited her strokes.

Penelope embraced her bound slave, kissing her forehead and cheeks. Chandra held the whip handle to Talia's lips, and the slave girl kissed it.

“You did fairly well, dear,” she said. “that was not too much for you, I trust?”

“No, Mistress.” Talia was a little teary eyed, but was not actually crying. Her whole body throbbed, but so did her sex.

“I think she's suffered enough at our hands for tonight,” said Chandra. She unclipped Talia's wrists and ankles from the rings they were fastened to. “Show your Mistress how grateful you are.”

Talia got her knees and bent to kiss Penelope's feet. The princess let her stand up and stretch. Talia was sore all over but in good spirits.

“I have something for you,” said Chandra. She produced a polished wooden phallus and showed it to Penelope. “Would you like me to demonstrate its virtues?”

Penelope nodded. Chandra took Penelope over to the bed an motioned for her to sit on the edge, and brought Talia over to her Mistress.

“Kneel down,” she commanded the slave, and Talia got back on her knees, facing Penelope at the edge of the bed. Chandra knelt behind her and spread open her pussy lips. Talia raised herself to allow better access by the dark haired Amazon. Chandra reached over Talia's shoulder and held out the dildo for her to suck on, moistening it. She then pulled it back and pushed it into Talia's groin. It slid in easily; Talia's sex was already moist on its own. Talia breathed heavily, eyes partly closed, hips moving up and down to the rhythm of Chandra's hand motions.

“Service your Mistress,” said Chandra, giving Talia a swat on the bottom.

“Oh—of course, Mistress,” said the slave girl. She raised her head to Penelope's crotch. The princess, adopting the Amazon style of dress, wore a simple leather thong beneath her hide skirt. She moved it easily aside, exposing her moist pussy, shielded by delicate curls of yellow hair, to Talia's mouth. The slave girl sucked the wet labia greedily, kissing and tonguing the cleft between her Mistress's legs. Penelope licked her lips and closed her eyes. She held Talia's head steady with one hand and held her thong open with the other. She opened her leather jerkin and rubbed her nipple, sending sweet tingles of pleasure through her body. She tilted her head back and heaved her bosom in and out sharply.

Talia began to moan louder and louder; when she reached a high pitch Chandra stopped.

“You shouldn't come before your Mistress does; you know that,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress Chandra.”

“Take this,” said the Amazon behind her. “You know what to do.” She handed Talia the dildo.

Chandra stepped back and watched in satisfaction as Talia rose and kissed Penelope's breasts lovingly, savoring the perky nipples, and feeling them harden in her mouth. She licked around the aureole with her tongue and rubbed her teeth against the nipple for friction, eliciting a pleasurable moan from her Mistress. Talia thought Penelope had the most beautiful breasts she had ever seen. The princess lay back on the bed and slipped off her thong. She felt Talia push the solid wooden shaft into her, moving it back and forth quickly, building a warm, powerful sensation inside her. Talia kissed her breasts, then her stomach, and moved down to her sex and clit. Penelope climaxed with a sweet moan. She then took the phallus from Talia and administered it to the slave, who kissed her Mistress full on the lips this time.

Talia arched her back, her breasts heaving against Penelope's, and squeezed her eyes shut as she sighed in orgasmic relief. She collapsed onto her Mistress and lay beside her.

“Well, I'll let you two get cleaned up before dinner,” said Chandra. “You're welcome to spend the night here, of course, if you wish.” she was looking at Penelope with a certain gleam in her eye.

“Thank you, Chandra, I think I would enjoy that.”

After they had rested and washed away the fluids from their lovemaking, Talia served them a dinner that Chandra prepared her guests. Chandra told the princess about the Matron's plans for the festival.

“We could use another ponygirl,” she said. “Naomi has offered her slave and Keira hers, but I think a third would be best, since they won't have much time to get into shape.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” asked Penelope. She still found the idea of women pulling a carriage for another rather odd, but the Matron insisted; it was an important show of prestige.

“I think Talia would be best,” said Chandra. “She's athletic enough and I imagine she's eager to please you.” They both looked at Talia.

“Oh, yes Mistress, please?” the slave girl said.

“Well, if she wants to, of course she can,” said Penelope. She wasn't quite sure why someone would volunteer for such a thing, but Talia looked at her Mistress so eagerly, seemingly willing to do anything to make her happy.

That evening, Chandra took Penelope to her bedchamber.

“You may have my bed, of course,” she said.

“I would very much like you to join me,” said Penelope. “Would it be appropriate, as we are adoptive sisters now?”

“It's not unheard of,” said Chandra. “We are a close knit people that way.”

The two embraced and disrobed each other, and spent a passionate night in each others arms—or with their sexes rubbing their together, as Chandra showed her new sister.

Downstairs in a cage in the “playroom,” Talia slept with her wrists cuffed to her neck collar, unable to relieve the urgent desire building between her legs as she heard the faint voices of her Mistress and Chandra upstairs. Belle slept blissfully in her own cage nearby. Such was the price to be a slave, Talia thought; she could only hope her beautiful Mistress would use her again soon. As hard as it was to surrender control of her own being, she knew she would make the same decision over again.

* * * *