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.

If you are under the age of 18 or are otherwise legally prohibited from viewing such material in your area of residence, stop reading immediately. You may be breaking the law and may also end up spending an eternity in hell with perverts like this author.

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.

Author's notes: this is an erotic story with a fantastical setting. It contains scenes of slavery, bondage, dominance and submission, and explicit sex, which is almost exclusively lesbian; hence, readers who don't care for these sexual activities may not find it interesting.

It has some passages of exposition and narration without any sexual content that otherwise interested readers may find dull, but the author encourages them to give it a chance.

All characters, even teenagers, are effectively full adults for the purposes of this story. No minors are presented in sexual terms in this story in any way whatsoever.

This is a fantasy setting, not an historical one; hence, some modern clothing and accouterments are used. Some suspension of disbelief is required.

The author makes no pretense of understanding everything about the psychology and practices of bdsm, and apologizes if they have gotten some things wrong.

This is a work of pure fantasy; this author does not condone non-consensual sexual acts of any kind (and even some consensual activities make the author uneasy).

The views and actions of the characters should not be taken to represent the beliefs of the author.

*Inspiration for this story comes from the novels of Anne Rice, internet writer sfmaster, and that one torture scene from the last James Bond movie.

Dramatis Personae:

Amber—Blonde haired former lay-in-waiting to Penelope, age 19. Slave to Keira.

Keira—Amazon, age 20. Sheila's second oldest daughter. Owner of Amber and later Lydia.

Chandra—Black haired oldest daughter of Sheila, age 23. Owner of Belle. Looked to as a leader and known for conducting intense slave-training sessions.

Dawn—Youngest daughter of Sheila, age 16. Owner of Claire.

Sheila—Matriarch of the Amazon tribe of the story, age 40. Mother to Chandra, Keira and Dawn (in that order). Adoptive mother to Penelope. Owner of Amanda and Jessica.

Claire—Striking redheaded woman, age 25. Slave to Dawn; very submissive.

Penelope—Princess and former queen, age 24. Fair haired. Sister to Elysia. Later, owner of Talia and adopted daughter of Sheila. Noted for her beauty and generosity.

Talia—Amazon, age 22. Friend of Keira. Later a slave to Penelope; very loyal to her.

Natalie—Raised by Amazons, age 21. Sister to Noami, also Naomi's slave. Known to be mischievous.

Belle—Former noblewoman, age 15 or 16. Light brown/blonde hair. Original name unknown. Slave to Chandra. Usually role plays as her pet.

Lydia—Dark haired girl of noble birth, age 21. Sent to Amazons as a ransom. Later awarded to Keira.

Naomi—Raised by Amazons and adopted into Sheila's tribe, age 23. Sister to Natalie. Also Natalie's owner.

Gwendolyn—Princess, age 17. Younger sister to Penelope. Acting as queen, but not very well. In love with Amber.

Eleanor—Noblewoman, age 30. Stepmother to Gwendolyn and Penelope; has orchestrated a coup. Puts the “wicked” in “Wicked Stepmother.”

Amanda & Jessica—Twin sisters, age 22. Slaves to Sheila; often used as her ponygirls.

Anne—Amber's mother, late thirties; a minor noblewoman. Looks like her daughter.

Thomas—Captain of the Queen's soldiers. Loyal to Penelope.

Isabelle & Helen—Minor characters; a noblewoman, 32, loyal to Eleanor; also Claire's aunt, and her daughter, aged 17.

Chapter 1: The Hunt

Keira swept her dark reddish hair back into a ponytail and tied it off, not wanting even a hint of distraction for what was to come. She crouched in the woods just outside a clearing, watching intently for any passers-by. She drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it into her bow, drawing it back a little to test the tension one last time. She knelt and waited, all senses focused on her surroundings. Most called Keira and her people Amazons, though they had no particular name for themselves. She herself had grown up in a close knit tribal village, one of many that dotted the large island on which she lived. Her society was, as the mythical name implied, matriarchal, and it was thus normal that a young woman like herself should be out hunting. She had also been trained in the arts of fighting and survival that in most other cultures were the sole province of men. She was tall, lean and well toned, with soft green eyes that adorned a almond-shaped face. Most men considered her to be quite attractive, but she felt no desire to settle down with one at the moment. For now at least, her inclinations ran in a decidedly different direction, towards the "fairer" sex.

Now that she had reached the age of twenty she was old enough to go hunt and raid on her own. The Amazons raided far and wide and took what they wanted from outsiders--the soft, weak city-dwellers who encroached on their lands from time to time. Most of the outside world knew to avoid bothering the Amazons on their islands, but some just never seemed to learn. These provided a steady flow of gold and slaves for the Amazons, who considered any intruder to be fair game.

Keira had not told anyone she had found this particular settlement, just a couple days' journey from her home village, as she wanted to keep any spoils she found for herself. Her prey today was not any gold metal, but had golden hair. Keira had spotted her two days before while reconnoitering the area, and was stunned by the young woman's beauty and grace. What this uncivilized group of city-folk was doing here or why they had come she did not know, but she knew they had something she wanted...

The young woman seemed to be some kind of prisoner, as she had been doing hard labor while chained and under guard; clearly she was not there of her own will. She was regally beautiful, with soft and delicate features. Shel was not very well tanned; outdoor labor was clearly not something she was accustomed to. Keira wondered what such a lovely girl was doing in this place. She would have been annoyed to learn that these people were using of her homeland as a penal colony.

Poor girl, Keira thought. I can put her her to better use. The lovely blonde seemed just right for what Keira had in mind. She always wanted a domestic slave—someone who would serve and pleasure her, and she was eager to try and train one for the first time. Now that she had found one she desired, it was just a matter of "liberating" her from these uncouth barbarians who did not deserve her.

With the patience of an experienced hunter, Keira waited perfectly still—she could do so for hours at a time if necessary. As afternoon began to pass, she saw her prey being escorted to an open field by a pair of guards on either side, each holding an arm. The girl's wrists were bound in front of her with steel manacles. They led her to a pole in the middle of the field and raised her hands over her head. One of the guards fastened her chains to a tether above her, and snapped a whip in the air, giving her a start.

Unseen by any of them, Keira had a clear view of the young woman. Her face was a lovely oval shape, with prominent yet soft cheekbones that formed a sinuous curve to her rosy, heart shaped lips. Her eyes were stormy blue and her skin was a creamy pale color. Keira admired her figure especially; the girl was slightly thin but was definitely beginning to grow into her potential. Her hips widened nicely below her narrow waist, and her bosom was surprisingly plump for a girl of her slender shape. The girl's golden air glimmered in the fading sunlight. To Keira she looked as sweet as an angel. She felt a deep stirring inside of her, a powerful impulse she had never felt before, upon seeing this beautiful stranger. Not merely arousal, but a fundamental desire to possess and control her. It was almost scary how this feeling moved her, but Keira welcomed it. She maintained her composure until the time was right, like a cat preparing to strike.

One of the two guards drew a knife and approached the young woman. The prisoner wore a rough brown work dress over a white slip, which the guard cut away, allowing the dress to fall to the ground. As an additional humiliation, the guard cut away the slip away as well. The girl tried to maintain some composure but her cheeks were flooded with a red hue. A look a shame and despair unavoidably crept across her sweet face. Her round breasts were now fully exposed, and the guard slapped one playfully before walking away, eliciting a suppressed, indignant cry from the prisoner.

The guard deliberately uncoiled the whip and raised it in the air. His expression was grim and serious; there was no reason to think he would hold anything back. The girl tried to remain stoic and defiant, but Keira could tell she was terrified. She kept her legs together in an attempt to hide her exposed sex from the guards. From the front Keira could see the lovely curls of yellow hair that covered the slit in the mound between her legs. Such a lovely shape, she thought. The girl pressed her face against her arms and winced as the whip was raised. Well, enough of this, Keira thought. She did not trust these men to avoid damaging her prize, and there were only two in sight.

She made her move. The prisoner waited and waited for the fiery agony of the lash, but it never came. There was a strange thud sound behind her, and the man with the whip sank to his knees with a long, low groan that was almost comical. The guards, who Keira correctly guessed had not seen combat in some time, were slow to react. She had shot an arrow into one's thigh, and the other instinctively ran to check on his comrade instead of running away to get help. Keira sent an arrow into this one's neck and then quickly finished off his wounded companion with a final arrow to the heart.

The prisoner turned her head and stared in disbelief, not quite comprehending what had happened. Keira walked over to the field, quickly and deliberately, looking around until she was satisfied no one else was coming. She pulled the arrows from the dead men and put them carefully back into her quiver (good arrows weren't easy to make, after all). She searched the men for anything else of value, and picked up the whip, coiling it and slinging it over her shoulder, and found the keys to the girl's chains. She then took out a knife and cut off an ear from each of the dead men for her collection. Only then did she turn her attention to the beautiful captive herself, who stared at her with disbelief.

"Are--are you going to hurt me?" the blonde asked.

"Oh, not unless you're really good," said Keira with a wicked smile. "Turn around; let's have a look at you." Her voice was cool, low and seductive.

Keira took the girl's shoulder and turned her so her back rested against the pole, facing Keira. The young woman seemed to want to cover her exposed breasts, but could not lower her arms to do so. She kept her thighs close together, blushing at her nakedness. Keira ignored the captive's shame and admired her soft, milky white bosom and the perky nipples that arose from them. She cupped the mound of flesh--about the size of a large apple--in her hand, then squeezed her way up to the nipple, pinching it between her forefinger and thumb. The girl gave a cry, more of surprise than anything else.

"Please, ma'am, that hurts," she said, embarrassed at being fondled so. Keira peered into the girl's face. She was a little younger than she had seemed at a distance, not entirely shed of her baby fat. Keira ran her fingers through the young woman's golden mane of hair, which reached down just past her shoulders.

The lovely captive wondered at Keira's clothing: a leather jerkin cut short that left her midriff bare, a wide sash of cloth and beads hung from her large belt, and her legs were bare. Feathers and strange jewelry decorated her. The girl thought Keira was the most exotic person she had ever seen. Keira was a little older than her captive, and her figure was more athletic. Her hips and breasts were fuller and more rounded, and her face was more sharply defined, with high cheekbones and smooth skin. Her lips were wide and inviting where Amber's were cute and pouty. Keira's dark reddish hair ran past her ears and stopped halfway to her shoulders. The young woman couldn't help but admire her.

"What is your name, my beauty?"

"Amber," said the girl. "Thank you for saving me from those brutes,” she added. “I would be most grateful if you released me." Amber proceeded to give her family name and place of birth, but that meant little to Keira.

"Amber like the color of your hair, h'm? How many years do you have, Amber?"

"I am nineteen, ma'am."

“How did you come to be here?”

“I was a lady-in-waiting,” said Amber. “I am from Avalonia...but I've been cast out. I can't go back.”

“Ah, I've been there; the women are quite lovely, but there are few warriors. But you have no home anymore?”

Amber shook her head.

"Very well then Amber, understand this: I am claiming you as my own. I am your new master, and you are my slave, by right of conquest. You will address me as 'Mistress' or 'Mistress Keira' from now on. Do you understand?"

It took a moment for Keira's words to sink in. Then, a look of almost-despair came over Amber. "Pleeaase...no," she whimpered. "I--I'll give you anything you want, ma'am, but just let me go--"

"What I want is you," Keira said firmly. "Now, are you going to challenge me? I warn you, I am experienced in combat, and I can inflict great pain if you do."

"No, I can't fight you miss," said Amber. "Isn't there anything else I can do for you?"

Keira turned Amber around and gave her a swat on the bottom. “Mistress,” she corrected her scared captive. “You must address me properly.” Amber cried out in surprise and looked back at Keira, abashed.

"Now why should someone like you desire freedom?" asked Keira, somewhat puzzled. "You don't seem to be able to fend for yourself. You need someone who can protect you."

"But...a slave?" Amber asked, clearly distressed. Slaves, in her kingdom as in most of the world, were not known to be well treated.

"If you wish, you can die with honor," said Keira.

“No...don't kill me!” Amber pleaded.

“Slavery or death, the choice is yours.”

“Choice? What could be worse than death?”

“Spoken like a true slave.”

Amber bowed her head. She wanted very much to leave this awful place, but now realized that she was still a prisoner, of sorts. She strained against her chains, but it only served to show how helpless she was. Amber momentarily thought of all the horrifying stories of Amazons carrying captives into the wilderness, never to be seen again.

"What do your slaves have to do?" she asked.

"Bring pleasure to their Mistresses, of course,” said Keira. “You will serve me, in exchange for your home and safety." She ran a finger down from Amber's chest, between her breasts. Amber shivered nervously.

"Do you beat them much?" the quivering blonde asked.

Keira laughed a little. "There's nothing to fear if you are obedient. You just need to be properly disciplined. Do they treat you so well here, that you don't wish leave?"

"No—please, I don't want to stay here, miss—Mistress," said Amber.

"This will be the last difficult decision you will have to make. Or the last decision of any kind.” Keira then cupped Amber's oval face in her hands and kissed her forehead. "Come now, we haven't much time, my beauty."

Amber sighed, and seemed to regain her composure. Keira spoke sincerely, and Amber knew could not resist her physically. Nor was there any place she could run to. She would have to trust her fate to this Amazon.

"I'll go with you," she said. "Just take me away from here, and you can do what you want with me."

"You will obey me?"

Amber swallowed and nodded.

"Will you give me your oath?"

"I promise to obey you," said Amber. Keira prodded her to add "Mistress Keira" to the wording of her promise, and Amber did so. In these times, oaths were considered sacred and binding in most cultures, and both Amber and Keira regarded such a promise with the utmost seriousness. It was enough for Keira to finally take Amber's tired arms down, though she left the steel manacles on.

"My clothes are torn; I'm afraid I have nothing to wear," said Amber.

"No need to bother with clothing for you," said Keira as she led Amber away by the chain that connected her wrists. "I want to show you off to everyone when I get home." Keira was not normally boastful, but decided she would indulge herself this time.

"Oh...Please, no!" cried Amber.

It occurred to Keira that Amber might be sensitive about her looks, as she was still relatively young.

“Don't worry, my dear," said Keira soothingly. "You have a lovely figure. Everyone will enjoy looking at you. Now come along." For some reason unknown to Keira, Amber only blushed harder when she said this.

Keira tugged the girl's chain and the captive beauty followed meekly, shamefully aware of her nudity.

"But--"

Before Amber could complain further, Keira cut her off.

"Now, the next thing you must learn is not to speak without permission, or unless spoken to. When you are given instructions, you will follow them without question. Answer my questions quickly and directly. This may be difficult for one less civilized such as yourself, but I will punish you if you don't behave." She held Amber's chin, bringing up her face to meet hers, as though she were a naughty child. Amber noticed the whip on Keira's arm. She gulped and nodded.

“Yes, Mistress.”

"Good," said Keira. "Now try to make as little noise as possible."

Keira led Amber away from the prison compound and into the woods. They walked for about an hour in silence until they reached a small grove of trees that was well secluded from any who might pass by.

"Please, may I sit? I'm cold," said Amber, shivering.

"Please Mistress," corrected Amber. "You forget yourself."

"Please, Mistress, it's cold out here."

"I think I have something to warm you up," said Keira. She sat on an old stump and suddenly pulled Amber over her knee. Before Amber could react, she felt the sharp slap of Keira's hand on her bottom, and let out a yelp of surprise.

"Now," said Keira, "Will you remember how to address me?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Amber. "I'm sorry."

Keira rubbed her hand along the shapely hill of Amber's buttocks, pinching her soft, creamy flesh.

Amber realized she could not wriggle loose; Keira was even stronger than she appeared. She was completely in this woman's power.

"No more whining—let that be your next lesson. And I expect you to remember your lessons."

Keira swatted her bottom again, leaving a faint reddish hand shaped mark.

"Ow." Amber was obviously embarrassed by this. Good then, thought Keira. The young lady could probably use a little humbling.

Amber was thinking back to her time at her old home. Even into her late teens, her mother had spanked her when she misbehaved. She complained about it, but deep down inside it made her feel rather excited; she secretly craved the hand on her bottom. Her Princess was also known to take a Lady over her knee and chastise her for an indiscretion—for the girl's own good, of course. Amber always wondered what it would have been like to be taken by the Princess in front of the other ladies-in-waiting, with her bare bottom exposed for her friends to see. She never deliberately tried to earn her beloved Princess's displeasure, but she did fantasize about it, and as this fearsome Amazon punished her, she couldn't help but become a bit aroused.

She received a third swat on the opposite cheek, and stifled another cry into something like a grunt. Keira stopped there.

"That's what you may expect if you misbehave. I will also reward you, if you please me." She let Amber get up. Though Keira had barely touched her (in her own mind), Amber's eyes watered.

"Don't you feel better now, my pet?" asked Keira.

Amber nodded, though she felt much worse. She said nothing, meekly waiting for what Keira wanted next. Keira had set aside her large traveling pack in the grove before going to retrieve Amber, and now she found it again, and produced a blanket for Amber to sit on.

"I will wrap you if you get too cold," said Keira.

"Thank you," Amber said as she knelt on the blanket. "Mistress," she added quickly.

"That's better." Keira took out the keys she had taken from the deceased guard. Amber held up her wrists, glad that her hands were finally free. She was soon disappointed, however, for as soon as the steel shackles were removed, Keira took her hands, placed them behind her back, and locked them again. Now she was even more helpless than before, and could not even try to cover her nakedness. She pulled on her manacles for a moment and gave up. She wanted to protest but decided to keep quiet, not wanting to arouse any further ire from Keira.

The Amazon gathered firewood and made a shallow pit, surrounding it with stones. She piled dry wood and lit it with flint and tinder stored in her pack. Amber crept forward on her knees awkwardly, glad for the warmth of the fire. The sun was almost down now.

“Where are we, Mistress?”

“The Island of Lyria, of course. Have you not heard of it?”

Amber shook her head.

“We are in the Bleeding Woods now. Your little prison camp was right off the Grim Bay.”

“That...doesn't sound very inviting,” said Amber.

“Yes, well, we try to discourage uninvited guests.”

"Spread your legs a bit, slave. I want to admire you." After some hesitation, Amber rose on her knees and spread them a little, revealing the narrow cleft of her venus mound, ringed by tiny blonde curls. Keira looked on admiringly. Amber cat cast her eyes downward.

"You're very beautiful, yet you seem ashamed," said Keira.

"It is shameful, Mistress, to be seen like this." Amber spoke in a low voice.

"Do you think yourself ugly, my dear?"

"No, Mistress."

"Well, stop being silly then. When people see you, you'll get lots of attention."

Amber blushed again. Perhaps she's too proud, thought Keira. I can beat that out of her.

"Tell me, dear, do you have 'king's' in your homeland?" asked Keira, curious about her captive's “barbarian” heritage.

"My king passed away," said Amber. "And there was a revolt, of sorts. I don't completely understand it all. I served a princess, but she was overthrown. All my things were taken away and I was cast into prison here. I don't even know where I am. I thought--everyone thought--this place was deserted."

"Why," asked Keira, settling in front of Amber next to the cozy fire, "Were those men going to whip you?"

"They needed information...but I didn't know what it was they wanted. They didn't believe me."

“You didn't know what?”

“Where the princess is—the one I served, I mean. She was imprisoned in a rebellion, but they must have lost her. I've always stayed loyal to her.”

"Loyalty is a fine trait to have,” said Keira. “Now let me ask, are you a virgin, dear?"

"What sort of question is tha--" Amber caught herself, hoping not to earn another spanking. "I mean, no Mistress."

"Really? You have been with a man?"

Amber's cheeks turned even redder than before. She was beautiful when she blushed, Keira thought. Perhaps the young woman was ashamed that her sexual prowess was inadequate. That was normal for a young person, she supposed. Keira could train her and build her confidence easily enough.

A feeling of sadness came over Amber, as the memory of her bitter captivity came to her. “The guards took advantage of me, and I couldn't resist them,” she said. “But otherwise I have always been modest and chaste, as a Lady should be.”

Keira thought that last statement was rather strange, but she let it go. “It wasn't your fault . I'll safeguard you from now on.”

“May I ask—Mistress—are there no men among your kind?" asked Amber.

"There are some," Keira said. Men did not make good domestic slaves, she explained; they were too uncouth by nature, and sex with them could have unwanted consequences. The few males who submitted as slaves worked in the forests and the mines, not the village. An Amazon did take a man when she was ready to have children. There were free men in her village who served in various capacities but the women owned all the property and made all the decisions.

"It must be easier on the slaves then, to serve only women," said Amber.

"Oh, I don't think so--men let slave girls get away with so much. They are easily manipulated by women. When one woman owns another, she is not so easily moved to pity or by entreaties--women understand each other better.”

Keira arose, and walked over to where the bound girl knelt. Amber gulped, wondering if she had done wrong in asking her question. Keira placed an arm around Amber's shoulders, and brought her face close in to hers. She placed her lips on Amber's, and began to devour her mouth. Amber closed her eyes. This wasn't so bad, she thought. Keira was quite lovely. There was no reason to resist...

Keira thrust her tongue into Amber's mouth. Her hand clasped Amber's neck, holding her firmly in place. Amber let the intruder in, opening her mouth wider. It was pleasant to kiss someone again; she had not had such warm contact with another person for a long time.

Finally Keira pulled back and smiled.

"You taste very sweet, my pet," she said. Amber blushed and said nothing. "Now," Keira continued, "Have you ever made love to another woman before?"

Amber paused a moment, caught off guard by the question. She shook her head.

"Then you are in for a treat," said Keira. Amber remained motionless, afraid of what Keira was going to do to her, knowing she was powerless to stop her.

Keira was gentle. She knelt behind Amber and massaged the frightened blonde's shoulders. She lowered her lips onto Amber's neck, losing herself in Amber's long, golden tresses. Keira lowered her hands to Amber's breasts and kneaded them like dough, greedily grabbing and squeezing. Amber let out a soft cry of pleasure and surprise.

"You like this, don't you, dear?"

"I-I think so, Mistress."

Keira relished the feeling of power over her new slave, who was helpless to stop Keira from invading her most intimate parts. Amber fought the urge to squirm and resist; she tried to relax and gave in to Keira's sensual embrace. She had no other choice. Keira began to pinch Amber's nipples, ever so softly, between her fingers. Her hands were rough compared to Amber's own. She felt the nipples begin to stiffen. Keira's gentleness eased her fear. This was much better than prison! Who knew a woman could make her feel this way?

But what if someone sees us? Amber began to blush again.

Keira gave her nipples a sudden hard pinch. A small shock seemed to rush through Amber's body suddenly, running from the tips of her nipples, down her spine, to the nether regions between her legs. Her breathing deepened; she let out a low moan.

"I think my pet likes it," said Keira.

Amber swallowed hard, and nodded that she did. It was easy to admit. Keira's attentions made her feel special; she was glad to feel wanted again. It was flattering to be desired by this strong, confident woman.

Keira reached her hand down between Amber's legs. Amber gasped, shocked to be touched in such brazenly intimate way, and powerless to prevent it.

"This belongs to me, now," said Keira. "Do you understand?"

Amber was trembling. It was best to abandon herself, she thought; let this woman have her way with her; stop thinking about it. Just let everything go. Amber closed her eyes.

"I understand, Mistress."

Keira rubbed her hand back and forth between Amber's legs. How lovely this was, she thought. A young, nubile slave girl all to herself. She dipped a finger up into the tender wetness of Amber's sex. Amber gasped again. Keira kept an arm around Amber's waist for support and began to rock her fingers back and forth, in and out of Amber's pussy. Amber moaned softly, keeping her eyes closed. After a little while she stopped and brought her finger up to Amber's mouth.

"You are quite wet between your legs, pet. Very good. Taste yourself--lick my fingers."

Amber hesitated before taking Keira's fingers in her mouth, sucking away the warm fluid that covered them. It had a certain sweetness.

Keira rose up came around in front of Amber. She knelt down again, now face to face with her. She reached out and traced her fingers around Amber's breasts, teasing her, and smiled. Amber smiled shyly in response. Keira ran her hand down Amber's silken skin to the quivering wet gap between her legs. She pushed several of her fingers inside this time, feeling the soft, warm moisture within. She moved her hand rhythmically back and forth.

"Oh...oh..." Amber hadn't felt this way in a long time. She helplessly strained against manacles that bound her wrists, then closed her eyes and gave herself over to the feeling that swelled between her legs. Suddenly Keira stopped.

"If you want me to continue, say so," she commanded.

"Yes Mistress, please do," Amber said humbly.

"You must beg me for it, pet."

Amber looked at her forlornly, not wanting to behave so shamefully but wanting the pleasure even more.

"Please Mistress? I beg you, please...make love to me." It was hard to say, but once the words escaped, she felt relieved.

"Good, but I want you to beg me to fuck you. Say it, dear."

Amber gulped. A lady did not speak like that. Though she was hardly a lady anymore, she supposed.

She sighed with resignation and looked at the ground. "Please mistress, fuck me. I want you to. Please." She then looked at Keira and pleaded with her eyes. The Amazon smiled approvingly.

"See? When you obey, you are rewarded. Now lie down and open your legs."

Amber did so. Keira's fingers entered Amber's wet sex again. Amber shivered. She breathed more heavily, in rhythm to Keira's moving hand.

"Shall I push a little harder?"

"Yes Mistress, please."

The swelling sensation in her pelvis increased. She began to gasp sharply, then moan. Amber imagined a wave inside her rising. Keira could go on like this forever as far as she was concerned.

Keira bent her head down between Amber's legs. Now, in addition to her thrusting hand, she darted out her tongue across Amber's sex to the button of her clit. Amber moaned a little louder, savoring this powerful sensation concentrated in such a small area. The wave continued to rise; Amber thrust out her pelvis lewdly, rocking back and forth against Keira's tongue.

"Oh...oh...ah...Ahh...AHHH...ooohhhh..." she cried, her eyes closed and her mouth open. The wave of pleasure peaked and washed over her, and she thrust herself up one last time. She collapsed onto the blanket and rolled onto her side, hands still bound behind her. Her body glistened with a thin layer of sweat.

"You came quickly. You must have been starved for attention.”

"It has been some time, Mistress," Amber panted. Her heavy breathing subsided and she sat up again, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Keira stood up over her.

"That was just a taste. Now, kiss your Mistress's feet."

Amber looked up and saw that Keira was brandishing the whip. Not wanting to give her a reason to use it, she bent over--though her bound hands made it difficult to maintain balance--and kissed the top of Keira's leather boots.

"You must thank you mistress for pleasure you receive from her."

"Oh...thank you Mistress, that was wonderful."

"Are you hungry?"

Amber nodded. She had not eaten well in the prison camp. Keira took out some food she had stored in her pack—some bread, fruit and cheese, and gave a fair portion to Amber. The captive had to eat out of Keira's hand. Keira smiled and stroked Amber's head, like one would a pampered pet. She then poured some water from her canteen into a bowl for Amber to drink out of. The younger woman was embarrassed but said nothing as she bent over to lap it up with her tongue. When she was finished, Keira pulled one last item from her pack. It was a long leather cord. Amber wondered what she would do with it, and soon found out. Keira looped it around Amber's neck and tied a knot near her throat. The cord would not slip past the knot, but she could tighten it further against Amber's throat if she wished. She tied the other end to a tree branch. There was no way Amber could reach up to untie it, but it was long enough to allow her to lie down on the blanket.

"When we get home, of course, I will get you a proper collar, but this will have to do for now."

This was too humiliating for Amber, and she protested against being leashed like an animal. Annoyed at her captive's impertinence, Keira took her to the stump. Keira sat down and put the frightened girl over her knee, face down, hands still bound behind her.

"Now you will count out ten spankings."

"Please, Mistress, I'm sorry, I was just surprised--"

"That will be twelve now, and that many again if I hear anything but counting. Understand?"

Amber whimpered pathetically and nodded.

"You have to learn what happens to slave girls who forget their place."

A look of pure humiliation came over Amber.

Thwack! "Oww! one," she said. There was now a red hand-shaped mark on her pale bottom.

Smack! "Oh! Two." Her other cheek now bore a similar mark. Keira took her time, admiring the creamy skin and pinching Amber's cheeks occasionally.

Slap! "Nnnhh...three." Tears welled in Amber's eyes, not so much from pain but from the embarrassment. Keira thought a little humbling would do her new slave some good..

Slap! Slap! "AAhh! Three, four." Keira had smacked her twice in quick succession. And she wasn't holding back. Amber waited fearfully for the next one, which seemed to take a long time.

Wham! "OOWW!! five." Real sobbing followed this time. That was hard. Even Keira thought so.

Slap! "OOw--six." Keira struck her at the very bottom of her cheek, near the upper thigh. It stung badly.

The next two came quickly. Amber was stunned at their ferocity.

"AAAhhh!!!...s-s-seven...eight..." Amber broke down into crying but tried to hold it in check. She turned her head upwards and looked at Keira pleadingly, but Keira's face was devoid of pity.

The pain of Amber's backside had reached a crescendo; the further blows only prolonged it. Amber's counting was made harder by the sniveling she tried to suppress. The tears flowed freely.

After the final blow landed, Keira bade Amber to stand up. Amber rubbed her bottom with her chained hands, bereft of any dignity. Her tears splashed audibly onto the ground.

"Thank your Mistress for your punishment," commanded Keira.

"Thank you mistress. Please, I'm very sorry."

"Kneel, and kiss my boots. Show me how sorry you are."

Amber surrendered to her shame and did so. She did not get up until Keira told her to.

"You must understand this is for your own good. If you had spoken out to your Mistress like that in my village, in front of others, it would have been much worse. So remember your place at all times."

Amber nodded, and Keira wiped her tear streaked face.

"That wasn't so bad, was it, my pet?"

"No, mistress," Amber lied.

Keira kissed her forehead. "Now, would you like to undress your Mistress?"

Amber looked surprised.

"Yes Mistress," she said quietly. Keira showed her how to unhook the clasp of her jerkin with her teeth. Amber was aware of being aroused again. In a spontaneous show of affection, perhaps to get on Keira's good side again, she planted a kiss on each of Keira's beckoning breasts near the nipple. Keira's breasts were fuller than Amber's own, and Keira's figure was much more athletic.

"You're rather incorrigible, aren't you?" said Keira.

Amber blushed apologetically.

"You must ask permission, pet, but I will forgive you this once," Keira smiled.

Amber nodded. There was a similar clasp on Keira's belt, and she knelt to unhook that as well. It was awkward using only her teeth and tongue, but Keira enjoyed watching her try. Finally the belt and sash of fell to the ground. Underneath was a kind of leather thong, briefer than any undergarment Amber had seen before. She felt it was somehow inappropriate to have her head so close to the crotch of Keira's legs and made to pull back, but Keira held her head in place.

"Continue," she ordered.

Amber took the string of the thong in her teeth. She moved it down Keira's well-toned legs and became further aroused. She worked both sides of the thong with her mouth, bringing it down to her ankles so Keira could step out of it.

"Good girl," Keira patted Amber's head affectionately. "You can keep me warm tonight."

Keira lay down on her side, with Amber in front of her. Amber realized she wanted Keira to make love to her again. The Amazon pulled a thin cover over them both, and wrapped a leg around Amber's. One arm went under Amber and cupped her breast, while the other went around her waist and rested provocatively on her crotch. Amber felt the warm wetness inside return. She realized her own hands, chained behind her, were close to Keira's own sex.

"Sleep now, pet." Keira massaged Amber's sex gently, and fondled her breast. Keira's hand was soon wet. Amber closed her eyes and moaned. She could get used to this.

“You're fortunate I found you. Now, are you going to be a good slave from now on?"

"I'll try Mistress," Amber answered humbly. "Really, I will."

"I will expect proper behavior and respect from you from now on, without excuse.”

What will become of me now? wondered Amber. She had let Keira seduce her, and now the Amazon would never let her go. Amber resigned herself. Her fate was in this woman's hands; she just had to hope for the best.

She drifted off to sleep in the Amazon's sensual embrace.

* * *

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 2: New Home

Keira led her new prize down the village path by the leather cord, and Amber followed the Amazon obediently. The village was one of the most impressive sights Amber had ever seen—it seemed to literally grow out of the forest. Many dwellings were carved out of the base of large trees or set on raised platforms amid their branches. From a distance it was indistinguishable from the woods around it. There was a central square where traveling merchants plied their wares.

Tired and sweating, Amber was led the final distance to Keira's family home. Keira had her own house, but etiquette dictated she see her mother, the matriarch of the village, first. Amber looked around as she walked. There were wood and stone buildings set up in the town center for crafting and trading, and she could see workmen and women making everything from food to weapons. There was even a mill with large rotating fans. She saw a few men walking about, and some were armed like the Amazon guards, carrying spears and shields. Many slave girls went about on errands; some alone, some led by chains attached to bright metal collars. All wore decorations of some kind but none covered their breasts or the area between their legs. Amber thought she glimpsed a girl with a bit and bridle pulling a small carriage, like a pack animal, but thought she must be mistaken. Surely they wouldn't treat people so?

She was terribly ashamed of her nakedness, but no one seemed to think she was an unusual sight. The weather here was pleasant here year round, and the Amazons certainly did not wear a great deal in the way of clothing—their midriff, shoulders and arms were generally bare, and many did not cover their legs much. Only when Keira paused to greet someone she knew did they look at Amber, and complemented her beauty to Keira. Amber could not bring herself to look anyone in the eye.

The path they followed led outside the nominal boundary of the village and continued up a hill covered in trees. They came to a flight of stone steps, leading up to what looked like the wall of a castle, or perhaps a temple. Unlike the other buildings in the village, this place was built out of polished marble, with columns holding up the roof over the porch. Two large men and two women, all holding spears, guarded the large front door, which opened up for Keira. She led Amber down a corridor, past a dining hall, a kitchen and a food storage room to a flight of stairs. Amber saw Amazons and a few collared slaves moving about and talking; none seemed to pay too much attention to her, even when they greeted Keira. The stairs led up to what looked to be a common room, lined with shelves and tables, and a long couch in front of a fireplace. Here Keira stopped and spoke to Amber.

“When any other free woman speaks to you, you will address her as 'Mistress,'” she said. “When I give you to any other woman, you will obey her just as you would obey me. And this is important: you must never touch a weapon or do anything dangerous, even if I or anyone else tells you to. Reckless behavior and breaches of etiquette are serious, and you'll be punished severely.”

Amber nodded somberly.

“I'm going to unchain your hands now,” Keira continued. “You must not cover yourself in front of others. Everyone should enjoy the sight of you, and I'll spank you if you think you're too good for it.”

Amber's face reddened as she nodded again.

“I'm going to introduce you to the Matriarch of the village, who is also my mother,” said Keira. “She'll inspect you every week from now. Be silent unless she asks you a question and do exactly what she says. She's not as patient as I am.”

“Yes, Mistress Keira,” said Amber, wondering what she had gotten herself into. “May I ask—is this your home?”

“I'm old enough to live on my own,” said Keira. “We'll go there next.”

Keira told Amber about her family. It was small by Amazon standards. She and her older sister Chandra had the same father, while Dawn, youngest of the three, was the offspring of Sheila's newest mate. A father was responsible for educating the daughters he sired, with the woman supervising over all. Keira's mother had also owned a slave girl who bore Keira on behalf of her Mistress; hence Keira looked a bit different from her sisters (her reddish hair being the most obvious sign). Bearing a female child was one way for a slave girl to earn her freedom, so Keira's natural mother returned to her old home after she was born. The Matron was her “legal” mother.

“Your people seems strange to me, Mistress, but it's fascinating,” commented Amber.

“This is your home now. Forget about anything else.”

Amber followed Keira down another hallway to a larger central chamber, lined with pillars on either end. At the very back was a raised platform, where Keira's mother, her face beginning to show the lines of age but otherwise quite lovely, sat in a gilded chair. On either side of her were two identical, nude young women, each of whom held a long pole with large feathers at each end, cooling off the matron in her chair. Amber wondered at the way the two women were adorned. Each had a ring pierced though her labia, from which a thin gold chain hung down, split into two, and wrapped around each ankle. They also wore gems in their navels, their earlobes and their nipples, the latter of which were joined together by another thin gold chain.

A few other people milled around; there was a pretty young woman, nude like Amber, carrying food on a tray for the Amazons, and a male scribe sitting at a desk, writing. Another Amazon, Keira's older sister, sat off to one side, cradling a young blonde girl's head in her lap, stroking her softly. The girl looked to be in her mid teens at the oldest. She seemed to be a slave like the others, but was restrained in an odd way. Her lower legs were bent back and fastened that way, forcing her to continually walk on her knees. Her hands were locked into tight leather mittens, restricting their use.

Curiously, there was an artificial tail of sorts, about a foot long, made of the same color hair as the gold-brown hairs on her head, extending upward and out from her tail bone, above her anus. Her blonde hair was done up in two ponytails on either side. She was gagged with a ring that forced her mouth open. A flowery lace garter surrounded each of her bare breasts, pasted in place, and small bells hung decoratively from the girl's perky nipples. The effect was curious...she's trussed up like a house pet, Amber thought. She seemed content, as far as Amber could tell, as her Amazon keeper stroked her head and chin. A long leash hung down, unused, from the “pet's” collar.

Amber had only moments to take in these exotic sights. Keira led her directly to the high seat where her mother presided. The Matron had raven-black hair, worn straight back, down to her shoulders. Her face was severe but beautiful in its way, and she had the prominent cheekbones Amber had seen in most of the other Amazons, and a striking figure. She had a regal bearing, with deep, piercing eyes; her whole demeanor was of one used to commanding others. Amber thought the Matron was lovely, but was more than a little frightened of her.

“I see you've come back with a new catch, dear,” the older woman said.

“This is Amber, my new slave,” said Keira. “She's sworn herself to me.” Keira had told Amber what to do next. The blonde knelt down in front of the matriarch and kissed both her feet, then sat on her heels with her hands behind her neck. She heard the people murmur around her. They agreed Amber was a good find.

“You have had good luck,” said the Matron to Keira. She took Amber's head by the chin and turned it to either side. “Very nice. My name is Sheila, and I am the matriarch of our tribe. I'm sure you'll be a fine addition to our household. Now stand up, girl, so we can get a better look at you.”

Amber stood obediently, her hands still behind her.

“Open up your pussy for us, dear. Let's see what you have.”

Amber hesitated, surprised at the order.

“Go on,” said the Matron. Her voice was commanding, but not unkind.

“She seems to be ashamed of her body, for some reason,” said Keira, annoyed by Amber's hesitation. “She's like this even when people compliment her.”

“Yes, well, she comes from a less civilized culture,” explained Sheila. “They are not used to being unclothed so. They never like it at first. But she will get used to it.”

“How odd,” said Keira.

Amber wanted to protest being called a “barbarian,” but wisely kept silent. With a supreme effort, she drove all thoughts of shame out of her mind and numbed herself. She reached down between her legs and fingered her pussy, opening up her vaginal lips for the Matron to see. Everyone in the room was staring at her now, openly admiring her. Goosebumps crawled all over Amber's skin, but she remained motionless. She did not want to shy away and perhaps draw the Amazons' anger. Sheila made her turn around and bend over, so she could view her from behind, and the woman fondled her sex coldly. She then ordered Amber to stand facing her with her hands back behind her neck, so that the Matron could handle Amber's breasts. Amber kept her expression neutral the whole time, but her cheeks turned a deep red color. Finally, her inspection was complete.

“Looks to be in good health,” said the Matron, appraising her. “A little thin; perhaps underfed recently. She has a certain grace about her, don't you think? Not tan enough to be from a farm, not quite proud enough to be royalty. Were you a noble?” This last question she addressed to Amber.

Amber nodded. “My family was not wealthy, but we were respectable, Mistress,” she said humbly. “I have served a Princess before.”

“Good. And does she need to take lilith?” the Matron asked her daughter.

“No mother, she's a natural,” said Keira.

“Ah, good,” said Sheila.

The lilith plant was used in Amazon initiation ceremonies. It had certain mind-altering properties that left a lasting impression: when imbibed in the presence of erotic stimulation by women, a woman who took it would always be aroused by other women from then after. The Amazons believed the sexual bond among themselves made them stronger, much like the ancient Spartans. It was used on slave girls, too, to make them responsive to their Mistress's attentions.

“Now,” the Matriarch continued, “You will give your sacred oath to serve your Mistress, and she will swear to provide for you. You have a choice, however; we can grant you a quick death, with honor.”

“That doesn't seem like much choice, Ma'am,” said Amber as humbly as she could. “What could be worse than death?”

“Spoken like a true slave,” said the Sheila.

Resigned, Amber gave her word. The Matron directed her to kiss Keira's feet, and Keira gave her own promise as directed. The scribe noted it on a piece of parchment. For Amber it was as though she had voluntarily put shackles on herself.

The matron turned to Keira's older sister with her “pet” slave.

“You see what an actual, useful slave girl is like, Chandra?”

Chandra smiled. “Belle is useful to me. She gives me affection.”

“You should get a proper one, or settle down and have a child. You aren't getting any younger, you know.”

Chandra smiled. “I'll take a man when I'm good and ready. And serving girls just encourage laziness.”

Sheila made a dismissive motion with her hand and turned back to Amber.

“All slaves are brought to me weekly and inspected,” she said. “I will check on your progress and see how well your Mistress has trained you. Keira is your sworn protector, so she may not draw blood, break bones, or anything like that.”

Before the law was laid down--well before Sheila herself was born, she explained--the possibility of being owned by a sadistic mistress was enough to cause many captives to fight to the death, or else they were always ungratefully trying to escape. Amazon society had been much more stable since the new rules came into force. The Amazons were beholden to their laws instead of an absolute monarch, and they valued their freedom highly; hence their respect for the rules. So far, Sheila had only had to correct a few overly “enthusiastic” tribeswomen who bent the rules and beat their slaves too brutally. Amber nervously wondered what these warrior women considered to be “too brutal.” But at least they cared for their slaves' well being, in principle, she thought.

“Slaves are rather spoiled nowadays,” Sheila said to Keira. “They crave discipline. And if you endure it,” she addressed this to Amber, “You will be rewarded.”

“I understand, Matron.”

“Do you think you can train her properly?” the Matron asked Keira.

“I believe so,” her daughter said.

“I'm always here to help. And many of the others have experience as well. Oh, and Make sure she knows how to obey the leash. Too many slaves walk around unbound nowadays; it's bad for their discipline.”

“Of course, mother.”

Keira led Amber out of the chamber and down another hallway. In a room off to the side was a forge, where a smith worked. While Amber waited, the smith hammered out a brass collar with fitted gems and rings around it. The band of metal encircled a padded ring of leather that was fastened around Amber's neck. Keira tested the fit. There was just enough room to place her small finger between it and the slave girl's neck. When Keira was satisfied it was not too loose or tight it was locked and permanently sealed. It was not uncomfortable, Amber thought, but it served as a constant reminder of her status. Next, leather cuffs were fitted and locked around Amber's wrists and ankles. The cuffs had rings that could be opened and clasped to each each other, or any of the numerous other rings that adorned the walls of every village home.

“I want her shaved,” said Keira. The blacksmith nodded and took out a small razor.

“That's the style now, isn't it?” the smith remarked.

Keira nodded with a smile. “I think it's very sexy.”

Amber wondered what they meant. They weren't going to cut off her beautiful hair, were they? She hadn't seen any other bald slaves, to be sure. The smith took Amber roughly and laid her back on a table, spreading her legs apart.

“Now be very careful not to move,” the smith said. He took some kind of cream and spread it between Amber's legs, all over her crotch. Amber held herself still as she could, as all the pubic hair around her groin was carefully shaved away. She let out tiny whimper. They were making her look like a child again! Now she felt even more naked than before, if that were possible. Soon the golden hair of her head was all she had left.

The blacksmith then took a pair of tongs and heated up a small piece of metal between them. Amber recognized it as Keira's family symbol; several of the decorations around the temple featured it prominently. Amber's wrist cuffs were fastened to ring bolts on the wall so she could not see the blacksmith coming up behind her, but she could feel the heat of the metal coming closer to her skin. Before she could even brace herself, the metal insignia was pressed against the skin of her shoulder blade. A scream tore itself from Amber's mouth. Tears flooded her cheeks as the metal seared her flesh, leaving a permanent scar. Amber was now marked forever as Keira's property. Keira embraced her, stroking her gently while the mark cooled.

“There, there, pet, it's alright,” she said soothingly.

After a little while the pain died down to a steady but bearable throb, and Keira leashed her with a long gold-colored chain and led her back outside. The slave girl was terribly aware of her exposed pubis. She tried to ignore the stares of the villagers they passed by.

* * * *

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 3: Training

After their meeting with the Matron, Keira had taken Amber to a shop to get some proper training tools for her. This was her first time training a slave and she was determined to do a good job--perhaps she could impress her mother and sisters. Keira could easily tell what Amber was feeling, as the blonde girl's face broadcast her every emotion. When she showed pain and humiliation Keira knew she was doing something right. She had led her new slave to a shop that sold all kinds of whips, paddles and chains. She first tried out a few dildos to see which ones fit Amber best. Amber whimpered in shame, wanting to beg the Amazon not to do this to her in public, but Keira made her stand stoically at attention, hands clasped behind her neck, chest thrust out prominently, as the Mistress inserted the various sized rods into her. She chose the largest that fit inside her and several smaller ones as well.

Then Keira tried out different paddles, a cane, and a flogger, bending Amber over her knee and testing the implements on her vulnerable ass. When she picked up one whip the shop keeper told her to be careful with it, which made Amber nervous. After choosing her implements she took Amber back home. She was confident she could use a whip properly; Chandra had been teaching her, and Keira had even felt it on her own skin first.

Keira's home was a small but cozy cabin carved partly from a huge tree. It had two floors, the lower one for eating and the upper for sleeping. Amber found it pleasantly warm and inviting. The smell of fresh pine permeated the rooms. Keira lit several oil lamps upstairs and prepared to eat. The furniture here was different from what Amber was used to back home. The sofas and chairs had no back; the men and women here leaned forward or reclined on their sides when sitting. The home had a natural, earthy quality that was comforting.

Keira sat down at the table and ate her dinner. Amber's hands were bound behind her by the clasps on her leather cuffs, and Keira made her sit on her knees on the table, facing her, legs spread apart, so Keira could admire her new slave and fondle her as she ate. As before, Amber ate out of Keira's hand, like some favored pet. She averted her eyes and meekly took what Keira gave her, flinching shyly a little, but not recoiling at the Amazon's touch. Keira thought the young blonde woman looked wonderfully sweet and innocent, and couldn't help but smile.

When they had eaten, Keira took Amber by the leash and showed her where all the pots and pans were kept, so that Amber could cook for her new Mistress. The lady-in-waiting had not had to do so before, but she was a quick learner. If that was how she had to earn her keep, the blonde thought, it wasn't so bad. Keira then showed Amber how to sweep and polish her floor, and commanded that she do so every day. The noble-born young woman had to clean it thoroughly, naked as she was, on her hands and knees with a brush. She went about her new labors with resignation, humbled yet relieved to be out of prison. Keira spoke to her with a kind of condescending affection, and spanked her when she didn't work fast enough for the Amazon's liking. Amber worked the floor until Keira was satisfied.

Next, Keira had Amber bathe her. She heated some water in her fireplace and lay herself in a tub in a small, closed off area, and amber poured the heated water until the bath was the temperature Keira desired. Amber couldn't help but blush again as she admired Keira's firm, slim figure. She rubbed her new Mistress's body with a cloth while Keira luxuriated in the warm water. Amber shyly washed the Amazon's taut breasts; the young woman's cheeks were red as she did so, and she was excited to touch Keira so. The Amazon maintained a calm, detached expression, as though she was used to being waited on by a slave. When she was cleaned up from the day's accumulated dust and dirt, Keira stepped out and let Amber dry her, and then dressed again. Amber stood by attentively, accepting her role.

When the blonde slave girl was finished with her chores, Keira led her upstairs, and Amber saw several things in it that alarmed her. A cage, large enough for a person to kneel up or stretch out in, rested in one corner; multiple rings and chains were nailed to each wall; there was a bar suspended from the ceiling, and finally—most disturbingly, a shelf filled with canes, paddles, and a flogger, and all the other things Keira had bought.

“Everything is prepared, I believe,” said Keira. “Now, you will learn the basic positions.” Keira took a lacquered cane and bade Amber to kneel. “Legs apart, chin up, hands on your knees, palms outward. Back straight. Good. This is your presentation posture.” Keira tapped Amber's back with the cane until the new slave positioned herself correctly.

Next, she made Amber sit up on her knees, with her hands clasped behind her neck, chest thrust out provocatively. Amber felt a sharp sting on her bottom and straightened herself, holding the position until Keira saw that she could do it properly. The most humiliating for Amber was the next one, wherein she knelt and leaned forward, her head touching the floor, arms over her head in front of her in a position of obeisance. Finally she had to stand with her hands clasped behind her neck again, feet wide apart so Keira could inspect her. Keira made Amber assume each position again with short, one-word commands over and over, striking her backside with the cane to encourage her, until she was satisfied that they were ingrained in the pretty blonde's head. Finally, Keira was satisfied that Amber had learned them correctly and could repeat each position on command.

“Now for your first real training,” said the Amazon. “Raise your hands. Above your head, like so. Good.”

Amber's wrist restraints were attached to the ends of a bar hanging from the ceiling, about three feet apart. Keira began to undress. She stripped down to the thong and sash around her waist, baring her breasts to Amber.

“Are you punishing me? Did I do something wrong?” Amber asked nervously.

“Am I punishing you Mistress. You forget yourself again. So that's one thing.”

“Oh—I'm sorry, mistress! Please, have mercy.”

Something about that remark annoyed Keira.

“I have not tested your limits yet, so you may not ask for mercy,” she scolded.

“I'm sorry Mistress,” said Amber, chastised. “I just meant...I was only frightened.”

Keira's expression softened. “You have to understand, if you beg off when you don't truly need to, you'll have broken your oath and you'll be thrown out naked for the wolves to find. So only ask for mercy when you're truly unable to endure it. Understand?”

Amber nodded.

“I must first see how much you can endure. You training will proceed from there. Aren't you excited, dear?”

Amber felt the familiar sensation stirring again between her legs. She wriggled lightly against her restraints. Yes, it did feel exciting to be helpless, she admitted to herself. The anticipation—the fear of the unknown, was undeniably arousing.

“This is more...intense...than what I am accustomed to, Mistress.”

“Power is the best aphrodisiac, they say. So is the loss of power. Now, the more you take, the more pleased I will be,” said Keira. “And the more pleased I am, the more pleasurable it will be for you. You do want to please me, don't you?” She raised Amber's head to meet her eyes. Amber nodded submissively.

Keira walked over to her shelf and picked up a long, thin leather rod. Amber remembered the riding crops she used to encourage her horse; this looked to be one of those. Keira circled around her like a hawk circling its prey.

Thwap! “Ow,” she cried out, startled. There was a sting on her lower hip.

Thwap! Another sting, only this time Amber bit her tongue. Keira continued to pace around her, smacking her bottom repeatedly. The stings were not terribly painful, but there were lots of them. Amber cringed as each group of strokes was delivered. Keira now began to work on the back of Amber's thighs. The helpless girl began to moan a little, as this area was especially sensitive to pain. She raised her legs reflexively to avoid the stings.

“If you don't keep your legs still, it will be worse,” said Keira, stinging her bottom sharply.

“Ow, yes mistress.” Amber tried to keep her feet planted on the ground.

Keira could have bound Amber's legs in position as well, but she wanted to test the girl's willpower. Another sharp thwack followed against her leg and Amber moaned again, but to her credit kept still.

“Not bad, dear, not bad.”

Keira kept moving and striking. Amber sighed in despair. How long would this go on?

“Spread your legs apart.”

Amber fearfully obeyed. Keira was standing in front of her now. Her mistress began to slap the crop against the inside of her thighs, which was the most painful part yet.

“Owww...” Amber closed her eyes and raised her head up, desperately fighting the urge to bring her legs together. Her thigh muscles tensed.

The crop smacked her there a few more times, and Amber closed her eyes and concentrated on holding herself still. Suddenly, she felt the crop sting her right on her sex.

“Aaah!” She brought her thighs together for just a moment. Keira was smiling wickedly as she smacked the crop just above Amber's exposed pubis. Amber whimpered and tried to be brave. Once again, she felt the crop slap her pussy. Keira toyed with her now, moving the shaft under her legs, rubbing it against Amber's groin. The stinging stopped for a moment, and Amber was glad for the reprieve. She let her muscles relax, and realized she was sweating.

Then Keira, looking her right in the eye and smiling that same wicked smile, brought the tip of the crop up to Amber's breast. Amber let out the smallest, most pitiful moan and braced herself. The crop slapped the tip of her nipple and jiggled the fleshy mound of her bosom. Amber moaned through clenched lips. Keira gave her two strokes, one on the inside of each breast. She then ran the crop's head over Amber's stomach, and struck her skin there several times. Amber squealed but still did not open her mouth.

Finally, after light red marks covered most of Amber's upper body and legs, Keira instructed Amber to kiss the handle, which the slave girl did. Keira went back to her shelf and put the crop away. She picked up something else, and came back to Amber. It looked like a cluster of short straps bundled together at the handle.

“Now, this will be your last test for tonight,” said Keira. “Do well and I will reward you.”

Amber nodded.

“This flogger does not normally hurt more than the crop, but I will be harder this time. I will strike you ten times. Each time, you will beg me for another, and beg me sincerely. If I am not convinced you mean it, you will receive ten more and sleep in the cage tonight. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Amber said submissively. Keira placed a bar under Amber's legs and fastened her ankle restraints to it, forcing her legs apart as her arms were. Exposed; the word figured prominently in Amber's mind. Keira could do anything to her. Her breasts stuck out and her shaved sex felt cold.

The flogger make a hissing sound through the air the moment before it struck Amber's backside with a heavy smack. It struck a wider area and its blow was more muted than the narrow crop's, but Keira did indeed use more force this time. Amber cried out, regained her composure as best she could and meekly asked to be hit again.

“I don't quite believe you really want another,” said Keira.

“Please, mistress, hit me again?”

“That's a bit better.”

Smack! “Owww...Please mistress, may I have another?”

Smack! Amber squealed through clenched teeth. “I want another one, please.”

“Really, now?”

Amber nodded tearfully. “I beg you, do it again.”

Smack! “Aah!”

“What do you say?”

“Please, I want another.”

After the fourth hit, Amber started to really cry. She reached down deep inside to keep her composure and begged Keira to hit her again.

Smack! “Argghh...” Amber was breathing heavily. Keira was hitting hard. Amber tried to catch her breath.

“What is that, slave?”

“Please, mistress, hit me again,” Amber sobbed.

“Just as hard?”

“Yes, mistress.”

The flogger struck the back of Amber's upper thighs this time. “Owwww!!” This one hurt the hardest of all. Keira walked around in front of Amber. The sight of Amber's tear-streaked face arose no visible pity in the Amazon.

“Now, do you want me to whip you from the front?”

Amber looked up, and gulped. She knew Keira wasn't going to accept a 'no' answer.

She exhaled, straightened herself as best she could, and steeled herself inside.

“Whip me, please, mistress.”

“Good girl.”

“Mmmmhhh...” Amber cried through her clenched teeth as she recoiled backward from the blow on her torso. She tried to balance herself again, which was hard with the bar connecting her ankles.

She pleaded for more, and another blow landed on her stomach, sending her reeling back again. The next one landed squarely on her breasts, drawing more tears from Amber. She dropped all pretense of dignity. She pleaded, in a pitiful voice, to be whipped again and again, and Keira obliged until the count of ten strokes was complete.

“You did reasonably well,” said Keira. “You're a bit soft, but I think you will improve.” She walked behind Amber again. Amber tried to wipe away the tears from her face with her raised arms.

“Now you must thank your Mistress,” said Keira.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Kiss the handle.” She held out the flogger's handle, and Amber kissed the instrument of her torment obediently.

“Good. The proper way to show gratitude is to kiss your mistress's feet, which you will do when I release you. But first we'll have some fun.”

Amber felt the flogger come up beneath her legs again and whimpered. But it was soft this time. Keira rhythmically tapped Amber's crotch with the tails of the instrument, and placed her hand on Amber's hip. She began to rock Amber back and forth as the whip struck her sex gently.

“Does that feel better, my dear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Keira turned the handle upside down, and slid the end into Amber's groin. Amber gasped as Keira moved it up and down. Amber realized she was very moist between her legs, and the handle slid into her easily.

“You like that, don't you?”

“Mmm, yes Mistress.”

Keira then slid her hand up from Amber's hip to her breast, still thrusting the handle up inside her. She grabbed at her flesh greedily, and rubbed the nipple between her fingers. The nipple stiffened, to Keira's delight. Amber felt as if her skin's sensitivity had increased tenfold. Only then did she realize how much she was under Keira's control. It was one thing to inflict pain at will, but this? How could she resist? Keira's bosom pressed against Amber's back, and she savored the feeling. Amber closed her eyes and lay her head against her suspended arm. She moaned and sighed in rhythm to Keira's attentions, feeling the hard, unyielding force of the handle inside her. She didn't care how degrading this was anymore, she just wanted the sensations to continue.

“Ahh...ahhh...ooohhh...”

Keira thrust the whip handle deeper, harder into Amber. The bound girl moaned louder and breathed deeper. After several more thrusts, Keira stopped, leaving Amber in a state of unsatisfied lust.

“Had enough, my beauty?”

“I want you to continue, Mistress, err...if you please,” said Amber shyly.

“Ask directly and plainly. Say you want me to fuck you.”

Amber winced. “I want you to fuck me, Mistress, please.”

“Better. Would my pet like to suckle her Mistress for a while?”

Amber nodded. She found Keira to be quite attractive, and this feeling of pleasure and danger excited her. Keira went around and cradled Amber's head to her bare breast. Amber put her mouth over her Mistress's nipple and kissed it, sucking gently on the erect point of flesh.

“You can do better,” said Keira. “Move your tongue around it, slowly.”

Amber opened her mouth and traced the aureole of Keira's breast with her tongue.

“You look like you're having your throat examined,” Keira laughed. “Here, do it like this.”

She put her head against Amber's bosom and devoured her breast greedily, practically biting down and sucking hard on the nipple. Amber gasped in pleasure. Keira pressed her tongue deeply against the flesh, moving Amber's nipple around and around.

“Now, can you do that?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Go ahead and try.”

Amber suckled her mistress harder and harder, savoring the warm, plump flesh. She gently scraped the nipple with her teeth, trying to evoke a more pleasurable sensation.

“Better, better,” said Keira. She put her hand under Amber's dripping wet sex, and slid a pair of fingers inside her. She moved them in and out while Amber suckled her. The feeling of pleasure increased and Amber could feel herself building to a climax. The sensation welled up from deep inside her and demanded to burst out. But again, Keira stopped. Amber was afraid now that Keira would not allow her sexual release.

Her Mistress unfastened her wrists, and then her ankles. The blood flowed back to her arms, and Amber was grateful she could move them normally again.

“What do you do now, hmm?” Keira chided her.

“Oh--” Amber quickly sank to her knees and kissed Keira's feet gratefully.

“Would you like to continue what we started?”

Amber nodded eagerly.

“You should beg your Mistress.”

Amber rose to her knees and looked up to Keira pleadingly.

“Please, Mistress? Let me make love to you. Please?”

Keira smiled and led Amber to her bed. It was essentially a hammock, suspended above the ground from four posts. On each post was a fastening ring (There are rings everywhere, Amber thought). The bed was covered with a large mat of soft fur. Keira laid Amber down on her back, and she sank comfortably into the fir. It was, she thought, the most comfortable bed she had ever laid on; she felt suspended in midair and her eyelids grew heavy. Keira took each of her wrists and fastened them to the posts.

“You're just the right height, dear. This bed was always a bit short for me.”

Amber spread her legs docilely so that Keira could fasten them to the lower posts. She was unafraid now; Keira could do what she wanted to her. She just wanted the warm sensations inside her to continue.

Keira slid off her thong and sash. Amber openly admired her sex and her long, toned legs.

“Now for the next part of you training,” Keira said. She went to the bed and straddled herself over Amber's head, her knees to the side of her. She placed her fingers between her legs and opened the slit of her sex. She fingered a kind of button of flesh inside.

“See this? That's the clit. I want you to pleasure me with your tongue, and focus your attention on that. Understand?”

“Yes, mistress.” Amber had never done this before, but she was excited to try. Her old inhibitions had found this place to be too strange and fled. Keira pressed her moist, glistening crotch against Amber's mouth, and Amber began to move her tongue around, trying to find the button Keira had shown her. She seemed to feel it at the edge of her tongue and moved it around like she had Keira's nipple. She took the lips of Keira's labia and sucked on each. It was so thrilling, she thought, to give herself over to her desires. Keira raised her head, eyes closed, and enjoyed Amber's attentions.

“Ooo...oh, that's a good girl,” she said. She reached back and opened the mouth of Amber's pussy with her fingers again, sliding them in and out of her. Amber imagined she was sucking herself with her own tongue. Each time she licked Keira's sex, she felt more and more intense pleasure in her own. Keira pushed harder and deeper, drawing gasps out of Amber. Finally, the feeling buried inside her came out, and she cried out dramatically. It was a climax and a relief at the same time. She continued to roll her tongue over Keira's pussy until Keira's breathing reached a climax as well. Keira's was quiet but just as intense.

After her orgasm subsided, she lay down next to Amber, her arm around the blonde girl.

“That was the first for tonight. We can have another a little later. Let's have a little rest.”

Amber nodded and smiled.

“Thank you Mistress.”

“For what, hmm?” asked Keira, caressing Amber's cheek.

“I mean, for rescuing me. And for this.”

“It was worth it, dear,” said Keira. “We'll start training in earnest tomorrow.”

As the sun set, the young Mistress and her slave languished in each others' arms in post-coital bliss. Amber's wrists were bound behind her by her now and she was tethered to the bedpost by the gold-colored leash.

“Time to sleep, pet. You can rest beside me tonight.”

Amber curled up against her Mistress and lay her head against Keira's bosom. She slept better than she had in many days.

* * * *

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 4: Friends

When Amber had settled in, Keira sent her to work to earn extra income. Amber spent her first morning in a village orchard, gathering fruit for the Amazons while Keira went out hunting in the Lyrian wilderness. The Amazons were primarily hunters and traders, but some cultivated small fields and herds. There was no such thing as a horse collar in those days, and thus it was more practical to hitch a slave girl to a plow than a horse. Fortunately for Amber, because she was first and foremost as a “pleasure” slave, she was spared the most laborious and dirty tasks.

There were a few Amazon guards on the lookout in the orchard, overseeing the slave girls who worked. They were lean and well-toned like Keira, and sometimes they came over and pinched Amber's breasts and buttocks playfully, but otherwise no one bothered her. It was easier work than she had done in the prison camp, for which Amber was grateful. She was getting a faint tan from the pleasant sun that was neither too harsh nor too distant, which left no lines on her body—slaves always went entirely without clothing. Keira had given her a thin leather belt with some feathers hanging from it, and decorated her with earrings, but nothing covered Amber's shaved sex or perky breasts. She saw a few other slave girls, all young and attractive, and all nude like herself except for occasional adornments and jewelry.

Amber was looking at the others so intently she forgot to watch her step and stumbled, dropping the basket she was using. A bundle of apples spilled out. She sighed in dismay. A slender girl about Amber's age walked over to her hurriedly. She too was nude and wore a metal collar, like Amber. She was thin and athletic; her figure not quite as rounded as Amber or Keira's, but very pretty. Her face was bright and expressive, with a few freckles that looked cute on her. Her hair was light brown, almost blonde but not nearly as yellow as Amber's, and cut short a little past her ears.

“Here, take mine,” she said. She practically pushed her own basket into Amber's arms. She then got down and began to gather up the fallen apples. Amber saw why the slave girl had acted so hurriedly—a woman on guard saw them a moment later and came over. The Amazon, clad in a leather skirt, boots and halter top looked intimidating to Amber, who cast her eyes down.

“What did you do, Natalie?” asked the guard, exasperation in her voice.

“I just fell, Mistress,” said the slave girl.

“You're so clumsy. What are we going to do with you?” the guard woman sighed. She took out a light wooden switch and struck it across Natalie's backside several times. Natalie apologized humbly and the guard went away.

Natalie waited until the Amazon was out of earshot.

“It's ok,” she said. “We can talk quietly if we keep working. Just not in front of a Mistress; that's disrespectful.”

“Thank you,” said Amber. “You didn't have to do that for me, really. I don't want to get you in trouble.”

Natalie gave a mischievous smirk. The earlier expression of contrition she had worn for the guard disappeared. “They expect that of me. I get in trouble a lot anyway. I saw you were new here, and I didn't want you to get the same reputation as I have.”

“They punish you a great deal?” said Amber with pity. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

Natalie shrugged, her expression carefree. “It's only when I misbehave. Which happens a lot.”

“I see...”

“Tell me about yourself,” said Natalie.

“My name is Amber. I'm an Avalonian—at least, I was.”

“Is it true what they say about Avalonian women?”

“What is that?”

“I have no idea what they say about them, I just want to know if it's true or not” said Natalie with a smile. “I'm just joking. I've never really been away from Lyria.”

“You were raised here?” Amber asked.

Natalie nodded. “My sister Naomi and I were both raised here. When I came of age, my Mistress collared me. I've been hers ever since.”

“What's it like here?” asked Amber intently. “How does your Mistress treat you? Does she let you see your sister?”

Natalie laughed a little at the question. “I should hope so. She is my sister. And I'm happy with her, if that answers your question. I don't have many reasons to complain, anyway.”

“Your sister is free, and you aren't?”

Natalie shrugged. “We had a choice. We were orphans from some place I don't remember. The Amazons found us and raised us here. When we reached maturity they said we could become one of them. My sister Naomi did, but I didn't.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know how hard they train? It's a tough life. I don't think it's worth it, myself; I don't have the drive or determination for that. So I figured why not let someone else provide for me? When you see how hard being a hunter and warrior full time is, you'll realize we have the better end of the deal. Our mother gave me as a present to Naomi when she moved out on her own, and I've served her ever since.”

“But isn't it awkward, I mean, your sister...?”

Natalie shrugged casually. “Any two women can make love without consequence, so it doesn't matter. We love each other, and she takes good care of me, so I do my best to please her. Of course I was shy at first, but when Naomi takes me, it's wonderful. She's been training me really well.”

Amber wondered at Natalie's story. At least, she thought, it was possible for a slave to be happy here.

“You two are going to get into trouble if don't keep working,” a low voice warned.

“We were just talking,” said Natalie.

“That's how it usually starts with you,” the new woman said. “Hello,” she said to Amber. “I'm Claire. I believe I know your Mistress.”

Claire was in her mid twenties and very beautiful, Amber thought. She was naked and collared like Amber and Natalie. Her figure was fully developed, with pleasantly wide hips and an ample bosom. Her hair was deep red—redder than Amber had ever seen before. It was tied back in a ponytail, framing her oval face and full lips. Claire moved calmly and gracefully, with no hint of shyness. She radiated a confidant warmth that reminded Amber of her own mother.

“Spend time with her, and you will definitely get in trouble,” said Claire with a warning look. Natalie put on the most innocent, saintly expression Amber had ever seen and then burst into a giggle. Claire shook her head with a faint smile.

Amber went back to work and Claire joined her.

“I heard you were from Avalonia...it's beautiful there, isn't it?” asked the redhead.

“Yes,” said Amber, her face brightening. “Have you been there?”

“My family lived there many years,” she said with a trace of sadness. “Green fields, tall trees...I do miss it.”

“Were you taken from there?” asked Amber softly.

“No...my Mistress save me, actually...it's a long story, though.” said Claire, who then decided to change the subject to something cheerier. “I always thought Keira could cheer up a bit; she seems so serious all the time,” said Claire. “She is well versed in the arts of love—I can attest to that.”

“Oh,” said Amber, “You mean you've...been with her before?”

Claire nodded. “Dawn, her younger sister, is my Mistress. Keira borrows me from time to time. I quite like her.”

Amber paused. She realized she felt a stab of jealousy towards Claire. She hadn't thought of Keira making love to other women. Amber then remembered what Keira had told her about her family. “Dawn is only a child, isn't she?”

“Well, she's fifteen, so she's old enough,” said Claire. “Younger than most, I suppose. I suspect they let her go out and raid that young because she's the Matron's daughter, and her sisters watch over her. I think she's a good Mistress, at any rate.”

“It just seems humiliating...to be ordered by one so young,” said Amber. “I don't think I would like that.”

“Some said she was too young,” said Claire. “But Dawn saved my life. I was running away from a...a bad situation and ended up here a few months ago; I was reckless. I don't know what would have happened if she hadn't found me.”

“May I ask a question?” Amber asked quietly as they worked.

“Go ahead.”

“Why is that girl named Belle treated like...like she is?”

“Oh, that's an interesting story,” said Claire. “I'll tell you...let me think where to begin...” Belle, strange as it was to hear, had been a monster—a real tyrant. Only in her teens, she was small in stature but had been in complete charge of a feudal manor by virtue of her birth, in a kingdom called Calledon , free from supervision of other nobles or her parents (who apparently never instilled any sense of responsibility in her). She would abuse her servants on a whim and over-taxed her subjects, making their lives very difficult. She came to the attention of the Amazons when, in her greed, she sent her soldiers to raid one of their villages. The Amazons, none too happy about it, sent a war party led by Chandra to let the outsiders know how they felt about such things.

In the fight, Belle's guards deserted her and the servants turned on her; Chandra actually saved Belle's life by pulling hr away from them. The serving girls and treasure were divided up among the Amazons, but no one was interested in owning the insolent and rebellious Belle. The girl's legs were badly broken and couldn't be set correctly. He hands were burned and some of her fingers were useless. Someone had tried to cut her throat and it was now painful for her to try and speak properly. Chandra nursed her back to health, even breastfeeding her personally, out of sheer pity, and actually found a use for her as soon as Belle was healthy enough to crawl around—namely as her “pet.” Chandra crafted a tail out of Belle's own hair and somehow grafted it onto her skin. She took Belle on walks, taught her simple commands to obey, and made her chase balls for everyone's amusement.

“I don't think Belle was her name originally; I think Chandra gave her the name of her old cat. No one remembers her original name now, anyway,” said Claire. Natalie thought that was funny.

“I would have been tempted to put her out of her misery, if you don't mind my saying so,” Amber said. She had no sympathy for people like that, having been abused by her captors not long ago.

“Yes, but as a pet she's really very sexy,” said Natalie. “Mistress Chandra is pleased with her skill with her tongue. And at playing fetch,” she laughed.

Natalie picked an apple and took a large bite out of it.

“Isn't that risky?” said Amber. “They'll punish you if they catch you.”

Natalie shrugged. “I guess they will. I'm hungry.”

Amber was gathering and speaking furtively to the two girls, away from the guards, when she heard her Mistress calling her. Amber waved goodbye and gathered up her basket. After putting it away, she went to Keira, who clipped a leash onto her collar.

“Are we going home, Mistress?”

“Not yet, dear. I have a lesson for you now.”

It was almost mid day, time for other chores, and the other slave girls were also leaving. She saw an Amazon who looked much like Natalie and must have been her sister, who came and took Natalie over her knee and spanked her soundly. Natalie got up and apologized for her indiscretion with a look of abject remorse, then knelt to kiss her sister's feet. Naomi, her sister, didn't seem to believe it. She waved her hand back and forth in front of Natalie and scolded her like a child. She finally clipped a leash to Natalie's collar and made her crawl behind her on all fours. Probably she intended to punish her further. Following her Mistress, Natalie turned her head to Amber when she passed and flashed a mischievous smirk.

She must have known she was going to get caught, thought Amber. I wonder why she did it.

Dawn, Keira's younger sister, arrived with her. Keira showed off Amber to her. Amber tried not to wince as the teenage girl ran her fingers all over her body, pinching her breasts and the folds of her labia. Amber kept her eyes down.

“Very nice,” said the girl. “I'll have to borrow her some time.” Dawn put two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply. Her slave, Claire, heard and walked over to her. When she arrived, Claire knelt and picked a flower from the ground with her teeth. She rose to her knees and gave it to her Mistress.

“She's so sweet,” said Keira. The older woman smiled affectionately at the Dawn, who took her by the hand and led her away.

Keira told Amber she had to learn to suck a man's cock, something Amber had never done before. She begged Keira not to make her, but the Amazon took her chin firmly in hand and looked her squarely in the eye.

“You will pleasure who I want, when I want,” said Keira firmly. “That is how you earn your keep around here. Every Amazon here is your Mistress, and you will serve any man or woman you are ordered to, without hesitation. Understood?”

She spoke with such firmness that Amber could only nod meekly and apologize.

Keira led her to a guarded gate at the eastern end of Timberwood, where a tall, powerfully built northman named Sven was employed as a guard. Amber was rather frightened of him. Keira walked up to him and offered Amber to him, explaining what she wanted. Sven laughed and looked down at the lovely slave girl, who averted her eyes.

“I have an Avalonian girl for you today,” said Keira.

“Really? Never been able to afford the company of one before,” said the man with a hearty laugh.

“She's not experienced, so I'll have to coach her,” said Keira.

“I'm not picky,” said Sven. “This beauty can measure my cock any time. So can you,” he smiled at Keira.

“On your knees, slave,” Keira ordered Amber. She gave a short jerk on Amber's chain and the young woman knelt in front of Sven, who unfastened his trousers. His shaft came out and quickly grew long and thick, and he smiled lewdly at the nervous slave girl. Keira told her what to do.

“Trace the bottom with your tongue, slave,” she ordered sternly.

Amber did so; the taste of his cock was warm and fleshy, and it grew harder with the attentions of her tongue. At Keira's urging she rubbed the head of Sven's cock between her teeth, ever so gently. She now knew where to find the single most sensitive area of a man. She rolled her tongue over the tip for a minute or so, tasting the salty white liquid that dribbled out. Sven closed his eyes, tilted his head back and smiled.

“All of it now. Fold your tongue around it,” said Keira.

Amber thought she might choke but didn't dare disobey her Mistress. She took the thick shaft into her mouth and closed her lips around it as Keira guided her head back and forth. Sven began to breathe heavily, and sighed like someone stranded in a desert receiving his first drink of water in days. The cock moved of its own accord in her mouth, bulging out of Amber's cheek. She continued to move her head back and forth. Keira showed her how to keep it steady; Amber made a ring with her thumb and middle finger and placed it around the base of Sven's shaft. She moved her fingers up and down his cock whenever her head pulled back.

Keira then had Amber take Sven's scrotum in her mouth; she licked the salty skin around it. Sven was amused by her amateurish efforts, but satisfied all the same. More semen dropped onto her cheek but Amber ignored it.

“Now,” said Keira, “You will take it all the way in. Your lips should reach his balls.”

Amber didn't think she could, but Keira held her head firmly and pushed forward. The tip of Sven's cock touched the very back of Amber's throat and she squealed little, afraid her air would be cut off, but Keira held firm. She pushed her head even harder. Amber closed her eyes, and Sven laughed at her.

Again and again her head moved back and forth. More semen dribbled out, trailing on her tongue whenever she pulled out. It was a strange taste to Amber.

“Play with yourself, slave; you should be wet by now,” ordered Keira.

Amber brought her free hand down and fingered her pussy. She was indeed a little moist. She put her fingers up into the slick folds of her labia and pushed up and down to the same rhythm of her head movements. She still had to suppress her gag reflex when she took the cock all the way into her mouth, but found she could take more than she first thought. She rolled her tongue around it, as her Mistress ordered. She felt it begin to quiver.

After another couple minutes or so of this, Sven's sighs became louder and more frequent. Finally his cock seemed to vibrate of it's own accord and the warm, sticky fluid gushed out. Amber swallowed a good deal of the salty substance; the rest spilled onto her breast and thigh.

“Take it in, Avalonian slut...aaaahhh, that was much appreciated, Miss Keira,” said Sven as her wiped himself off and re-fastened his leather trousers. “I haven't been attended to like that in a while.”

“It was her first time, I hope you understand,” said Keira.

“Aww, she's a real sweetie,” said Sven as he slapped Amber's breast playfully. “Don't be too hard on her. Soon she'll be able to suck a man off in half a minute flat, soon.”

Amber wiped the semen off her lips. Keira tugged her leash sharply and she stood up. Her Mistress pulled her wrists behind her back and clipped her wrists together, then wiped the rest of the semen off her body.

“I don't think she's ready for any competitions just yet. Thank you again for your time.”

“Thank you, Miss Keira. Bring that cutie to me whenever you want. I'll teach her good.”

Keira led Amber back to the village.

“Like it or not, a slave who can't suck a cock well isn't much of a slave,” she said.

“Did I do all right, Mistress?” Amber asked.

“Well, you put out an honest effort, I'll say that much. You'll get better.”

Amber was just glad to hear she hadn't earned herself a punishment.

* * * *

A few days passed, and Amber slowly began to adjust to her new life. Her old concerns already seemed far away. All she could think about now were the exciting ways Keira could pleasure her, and avoiding her Mistress's punishments. She relished making love to Keira, but feared her Amazon owner at the same time. She had not yet begged for mercy from her. She didn't mind most of the work she had to do, and now and again she had a little free time. As a pleasure slave it was important that she look attractive, so at home she spent a good deal of time fixing her growing hair and applying creams, oils and makeup on herself when not cleaning and cooking for Keira.

Sometimes Amber worked in Timberwood's merchants' square. Like most raiding peoples, the Amazons had established trading posts in many places they went; sons born to them usually left and settled in these areas to work as traders when they were old enough. The result was a good number of trading caravans and stands of all sorts of goods, along with some shops.

Often Amber was sent to work in a shop that sold training equipment, so that customers could try out various whips, paddles and dildos on her. This kind of work she liked least of all. She had to stand, or perhaps bend over, and stay still as various objects were methodically placed inside her most private areas. Or an Amazon might come to see what kind of marks a certain whip might made. If Amber hesitated or resisted in any way, the shopkeeper had leave to punish her. For extra pay Keira also let him use Amber in certain ways himself. She had to suck his cock whenever he felt the desire, and sometimes he would penetrate her anally. This brought her little pleasure and much humiliation.

One day, after a morning spent in the shop, Keira collected Amber (and her wages) and led her away. They came to the house of Keira's close friend, named Talia. The two Amazons had brought down a small deer together that morning and were going to clean and cook it. Amber was leashed to a ring on the wall and knelt on a sofa in Talia's cabin's lower room, her hands bound behind her.

“She'll cook, but she hates to clean a fresh kill,” said Keira. Talia thought this was funny.

Amber tried to keep her mind off the initial smell. A cooking fire was started, and the much more agreeable aroma of roast venison filled the room. Keira finally unhooked Amber's chain for the wall and brought her to the low table where the two Amazons sat and talked as they ate. The Amazons did not use chairs; their tables were all low to the ground. A small plate was put before Amber. Without the use of her hands, she could still bend over and take the sweet meat into her mouth. When she was finished, she rested her head on Keira's lap. Her Mistress occasionally held out more scraps for her to eat.

They talked about the places they'd been. Amber realized Keira had seen more of the world than she herself even knew existed. She would have liked to ask them about their travels, but she knew better than to interrupt her Mistress.

“I'm going to to the west lands in a few days,” said Keira.

“Oh? Have you heard anything about the villages there?”

“Perhaps,” Keira said slyly. “I'm going to have to leave Amber with my sister.”

“Chandra?”

“Mmm-hm.”

“That will be a new experience for her, I'm sure,” said Talia, with a look of pity that made Amber nervous. “I remember when we raided a fishing village in Corsinia that was so poor they could hardly pay us any tribute at all. Chandra was furious; she was going to burn the place down. We convinced her not to; the poor people were so frightened! Finally we found three grown daughters, all from the same family, and we took them back with us for our troubles.”

“I think I saw them once; they were all ponygirls in the same team,” said Keira. “A nice gesture, to keep them together like that.”

Amber wondered what a “ponygirl” was—why would anyone want a horse-faced woman?

After the meal, the two Amazons brought Amber to the center of the room, a carpeted area surrounded by the backless sofas. Amber's hands were freed and Talia produced a tub of water and soap so Amber could wash their feet. In almost all ancient cultures, this was considered the lowest form of servitude, but for Amber it was far from the worst. When she was done, The two women decided they wanted some amusement. Amber's hands were fastened behind her again. Keira ordered Amber to pick up a phallus Talia kept on a nearby table; Amber wondered why anyone would keep such a thing in plain view. She had to carry it in her mouth. Keira stepped out of her leather trousers and slipped off her thong. She reclined on her back on the sofa, and pulled Amber's leash towards her. She raised one leg up and spread the other out.

“You know what to do slave,” she said. She tugged on the leash until Amber was kneeling before her. Holding the metal object in her mouth, Amber pushed it into Keira's pussy. Keira rocked back and forth, stretching luxuriously, rubbing her breasts together.

“Mmm, that's good,” she sighed. She tugged harder on Amber's leash, forcing her to plunge the phallus a little deeper and harder into her.

Keira close her eyes and breathed heavily but quietly. The soft, moist folds of her labia opened as the steel shaft penetrated her again and again. Her juices ran down the inside of her thighs where Amber's cheeks brushed against her skin. Talia watched with lustful interest. Amber worked the phallus into Keira over and over, not too slow or fast.

“Would you like to join us?” Keira asked Talia. The latter nodded. It was not uncommon among the Amazons for close friends to engage in casual sex; it kept the tribe closely knit. There were no exclusive sexual partnerships among the free women, it seemed, but two of them could grow very close.

Talia stripped down. Keira handed Amber's chain to her. Talia knelt between the Mistress and slave, facing Keira, and licked her fingers. She rubbed her saliva on her own pussy and began to lick Keira's skin from her waist to her breasts. Keira smiled at her friend. Talia tugged Amber's chain, and the slave girl spread her knees for balance. She opened Talia's moist nether lips with the tip of the phallus and now pushed the metal clenched between her teeth into her. Talia moaned softly. She licked Keira's pussy insistently, fondling her friend's upright breasts as she did so.

Keira moaned and bucked her hips back and forth. She sat upright, and held Talia's head. Her friend buried her mouth in Keira's crotch and pressed her tongue inside. Amber pushed harder and faster when Talia tugged her leash again. Keira looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed, and moaned rhythmically, rocking back and forth.

Talia made a soft moaning sound, inhaling deeply. After a few minutes, the insistent phallus pushed a wave of ecstasy through her. She turned her head around and told Amber to lick her clitoris. Amber put the phallus down awkwardly on the floor, covered now with her saliva and the womens' juices. She moved her tongue around the wet valley in Talia's crotch and found the small, fleshy button poking out from her skin. She took it and pulled it gently between her teeth, rolling her tongue around it.

After a while Talia lifted her head up and moaned louder from Amber's attentions. She pushed three fingers hard into Keira's pussy and moved them back and forth very quickly. Keira breathed more intensely as she did so. Finally Keira's voice reached a pitch and she exhaled in a slow, sharp series of breaths as her climax washed over her. The two friends lay on the sofa for a little while but didn't have much time; their tryst being just a mid day diversion. Keira got up and began to get get dressed.

“Why don't we do this more often?” she wondered aloud.

“Never enough time,” sighed Talia.

“I know. I have to take Amber home, then go and set traps for a few hours.”

“I can keep an eye on her here, if you want,” said Talia.

“Really? All right, you can borrow her; just make sure she's back by mid afternoon.”

Keira finished dressing and kissed her slave on the forehead, took off her leash, and then let Amber kiss her feet before going outside.

Amber hadn't met Talia before, but she seemed pleasant enough. She stood a little taller than Amber, and had the same slender, athletic build as her friend Keira. Her light brown hair was streaked with gold and hung a little below her shoulders unlike most Amazons, who wore their hair shorter. She had deep dimples at her cheeks and a softly rounded, expressive face with clear, creamy skin.

“So, what are we going to do with you?” she said aloud. Amber smiled amiably but said nothing.

“I'll tell you what. You can have free time until you have to go home, if you do something for me.”

Amber nodded eagerly. She had not had any time by herself since her arrival.

“You have to promise, though, never to tell anyone what it is.”

“What do want, Mistress Talia?” she asked, a little nervously. As far as Amber had seen, the Amazons were anything but secretive about their sexuality.

“Don't worry, nothing that will get you into trouble. I just want to keep it between the two of us. Promise?”

“I promise, Mistress,” said Amber. Since Keira had placed her in Talia's care for the moment, Amber was bound to obey her.

“Good.”

Talia unbound Amber's wrists. She then crawled onto the sofa and rested on her hands and knees.

“I want you to spank me, Amber.”

“Spank you, Mistress?” Amber was puzzled; she wondered what would happen to her if she struck a free woman in this village; she figured the consequences would be extremely unpleasant for her.

“Mm-h'm.” Talia seemed confident of what she wanted. “No one will know. If I tell you to do it, it's not wrong.”

“All right, Mistress.” Amber stood over Talia, who liked her lips in anticipation. Amber felt Talia's firm, well formed bottom and gave her a light smack on the ass.

“You can do it harder than that.”

Amber swung her palm faster and made a louder slap on Talia's cheek. Talia closed her eyes for a moment.

“A little harder.”

Amber spanked her gain. Talia grunted softly and closed her eyes. Her expression was mostly neutral but Amber guessed she enjoyed it.

“Not bad. A few more times.”

Amber obliged. It was admittedly thrilling to spank another woman, but this felt wrong to her; it was something she was not supposed to do.

After some more spanks Talia was satisfied; she stood up off the sofa and rubbed her ass for a moment.

“I've always wondered what that was like,” she said.

“I understand Mistress,” Amber said obligingly, though she wasn't really sure she did. Slave girls like Natalie—the one she had met that morning—must enjoy being disciplined, she thought, but it was still better in her mind to be on the giving end than the receiving one.

Talia sat on the couch and pulled Amber onto her lap. She turned the blonde beauty to face forward, away from her, and slid her hand down to Amber's crotch.

“You're wet down there, aren't you?” she said.

Amber nodded. Once again, the touch of a woman aroused her intensely. She had never imagined doing such things before Keira found her.

Talia slid a pair of fingers into Amber's moist vagina and rubbed softly. She cupped her other hand around Amber's plump breast and thumbed the jutting nipple. Amber sighed in pleasure.

“You're a real catch, aren't you,” she said. “I've been saving up for a slave girl of my own, and then Keira just goes out snatches you out of thin air. How typical,” she laughed.

A warm wave of delight washed over Amber as Talia's fingers pressed deeper into her. She spread her legs further apart. She leaned back, resting her head between Talia's firm breasts and gave herself over to the woman's attentions.

Talia fingered and pinched the slave girl's clit until Amber cried out, then rubbed it vigorously. She kissed the back of Amber's neck, and then pushed four fingers into her groin. Amber was so wet and swelling that they slid in without trouble. Back and forth, Talia rocked the beautiful captive gently as she pressed her fingers deep inside her. Amber sighed heavily each time Talia's hand pushed into her.

This continued for several blissful minutes. Amber's hips bucked harder and harder against Talia's stomach, an her sighs became small exclamations. Finally she gave a long, loud cry, followed by several shorter ones that gradually died away.

“Just a little reward for you, pet,” said Talia with a smile. “Now let's clean up.”

Amber helped Talia clean up the floor and cleared her table, and was then allowed to leave.

“Remember, mid-afternoon, or your Mistress will be angry with us both.”

“Thank you, Mistress Talia. I'll be good.” Amber kissed Talia's feet and departed.

Amber wandered through the village square, making herself scarce and not bothering anyone. She wanted to see the sights the village had to offer, and her curiosity overcame her modesty. The buildings were marvelous, she thought. Some seemed to grow right out of the trees, and everything blended together. She heard the wheels of a carriage come through and turned to look. She saw it was the Matron's. When she saw who pulled the carriage she gaped.

The Matron's twin slave girls were harnessed to it with leather belts and a series of straps that crossed their shoulders, breasts and torso. Their arms were bound at the wrist to the side of their belts, and another short strap connected their elbows, forcing their chests to stick out provocatively. They wore bridles adorned with long, colorful feathers on their heads and bits in their mouths, which were attached to the reigns the Matron held. They stepped in unison and jogged by quickly and easily as the Matron encouraged them with a riding whip. From behind she could see they had anal plugs with long tails flying by, with straps between their legs to help hold them in place. One twin tossed her head up and down playfully. Amber shuddered; she had worn a plug already in the shop and detested it, but these two showed no signs of distress at all.

The carriage stopped at one of the large stores and the Matron stepped out. She unhooked her ponygirls from the bars that drew the carriage, unclipped their reigns and attached a normal leash to their neck collars. She led them inside the wide open doors. Amber couldn't resist walking up to get a closer look and quietly stepped up to the door She stood outside, looked around the doorway and peered in. Inside was a dazzling array of gems, earrings, and feathers that the Amazons wore to decorate themselves. A few women were inside; at least one had a slave girl with her, who stood impassively with her legs wide apart as her Mistress placed various rings through her pierced labia.

Eventually the Matron, leading her charges, came outside again and detached their leashes, putting the reigns back. They went obediently to the bars of the carriage and stood in place.

“It's rude to stare, slave,” said the Matron sharply.

Amber gasped; and a feeling of guilt rushed through her. She blurted out a humble apology, bowed and turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Sheila, the Matron. “I didn't mean to snap at you. Come here, girl.”

Amber walked up to the carriage meekly.

“Would you like to hold her reigns?”

“Oh, yes, Matron,” she said.

Sheila handed a pair of long cords to Amber. They were clipped to the small rings on each side of the ponygirl's lips.

“This is Jessica, and the other is her sister Amanda,” said the Matron. “You can walk her around if you like.”

With the fascination of a child holding the strings of a kite for the first time, Amber pulled gently on the reigns and Jessica stepped forward. Sheila smacked the ponygirl's flanks with her riding whip, and Jessica stepped higher, raising her knees to waist level. Amber stood in place while Jessica paraded in a circle around her.

The twins were well built with highly toned bodies; they were in good shape from the exercise they got. They were a couple years older than Amber, in their prime, with brown hair that gleamed like copper in the sun. Cute little bells jingled on their pierced nipples. Two straps from the belt came down between their legs for support, which covered their pubis a little; these also ran behind them and clipped to a plug inside each girl's anus, from which a tail flowed. Their bits were metal, held by rings at the corners of their lips; these held a short metal bar inside their mouths, with a studded metal ball at the end. If their driver pulled hard enough on the reigns, the girl would feel a sharp pain on the roof of her mouth but wouldn't be damaged.

Jessica tossed her head back and forth and made a whinnying noise, happy for the chance to show off. She raised her shapely legs high and pranced as she went around Amber. Her ponytail swayed behind her. When she had circled back to the the carriage she stood again at the bars.

“Now help me hook them up, slave,” commanded the Matron. There were three bars, one that ran between the girls and two each on the outside. The belts had metal hooks at the side which fastened securely to the carriage bars.

“I remember you,” said the Matron as she climbed onto the carriage seat and took the reigns. “You're the Avalonian girl.”

“Yes, Matron.”

“Give Keira my greetings, and behave yourself.” She made a clicking noise with her tongue and snapped the whip across the twins' backside. They took off at a trot, and Amber watched in fascination until they turned a corner and disappeared.

* * * *

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 5: Trying to Please

When Keira left for her latest raid, Amber dutifully wished her luck and silently hoped she didn't kill anyone. Keira was headed to Norwich, a cold land well north of Avalonia that amber knew only from maps; hence, she might be gone for some time. In the meantime she was left in the care of Keira's older sister, Chandra. Amber spent her first night in Chandra's large cabin in a reasonably comfortable cage, uneasy to be serving a different Mistress, even temporarily. Chandra had the same dark hair and stern bearing of her mother, the tribe's Matriarch. She was tall and very attractive; she would have been prettier if she softened the expression on her face more often. Her sharp, prominent cheekbones and pursed lips framed a pair of intense, penetrating eyes. She usually dressed in a leather jerkin and skirt with high, laced boots that went up to her thigh.

After her breakfast Amber went outside to stretch out. She found Chandra's own slave girl, Belle, crawling around on the short grass and enjoying the sunshine. Belle's legs were bent at the knee as far as they could go and chained that way so she could only move on her hands an knees. She was a pretty girl, younger than Amber, with cheeks that were blushed a rosy color and her hair done up in two ponytails on either side. Amber walked over to her.

“Hello,” she said with a friendly smile. Belle looked at her neutrally. She said nothing and continued stretching and wandering. Amber noticed the tail on her backbone. Of course, Amber thought--Belle was Chandra's “pet,” so she must be playing the role now. Amber thought it was cute.

“Here, kitty kitty,” she said. She knelt and held out her hand. Belle gave her an angry look and turned away, crawling quickly into Chandra's cabin. Amber seemed to have offended her somehow.

A little later, Chandra called Amber back inside. The front half of Chandra's large home looked like an austere study, with a bookcase, oil lamps, desk, and sofa; but the back half, separated by a curtain, looked looked like a dungeon crossed with a playroom. There were balls and stuffed animals scattered around for Belle to play with, and even hoops she practiced jumping through. Various gags were kept on a shelf along with whips and paddles. Chains and restraints hung on the walls.

Amber entered and knelt at the dark haired Amazon's feet in the position she had been taught, keeping her hands on her knees and her eyes cast down. Chandra was working on some leather craft at her table. She did not look at Amber until she was finished. Amber waited patiently in silence.

“You'll have to forgive Belle; she's very shy,” said Chandra finally. “She doesn't like to play with strangers. As for you, however, Keira tells me you're coming along nicely.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“You'll find, however, that I'm not as lenient as she is,” said Chandra coolly.

Amber remained silent.

“Come onto my lap.”

Amber put herself stomach-down over Chandra's knees. The Amazon felt her smooth round bottom, squeezing and pinching her playfully. Chandra made Amber uneasy. She was cold and austere, even when she smiled, though her dimples gave her face some warmth. Keira radiated a warm confidence that Amber found comforting; there was no such comfort from her Mistress's older sister. Amber felt like she was being examined for defects. Chandra's stare weighed heavily on her. After a little while she began to slap Amber's soft flesh, eliciting small cries from the blonde captive. Chandra varied the frequency and intensity of her spanks, keeping Amber guessing what would come next. Gradually the slaps became more intense, and Amber's eyes watered. She winced, trying not to cry out, but little gasps escaped her. Her bottom throbbed now, and Chandra struck her with full force, eliciting a cry from the helpless slave girl. Just when it seemed she would stop, she struck Amber several more times, as hard as anyone had ever hit her.

“You took that well,” said Chandra after she finally stopped. Amber tried to bring her sobs under control. “I always like the open hand; it's so...intimate.” She brought Amber up to sit on her lap, facing her. She kissed Amber's tear-streaked cheeks. “I can see why Keira is so taken with you. She was always a good judge of beauty.”

She reached her hand down and felt Amber's sex. She was pleased to find it wet already. Amber realized this and blushed. Chandra rubbed her between the legs, tracing the outer lips of her vagina. She felt her sex throbbing. The Amazon bent and kissed her on the lips. She felt like small and helpless in this woman's arms. She breathed in and out deeply and returned the kisses, and put her arms around Chandra's neck. The moisture began to dampen Chandra's hand.

Just as the slave girl felt her pleasure mounting to a crest, Chandra drew back and stood up.

“Time to play a game,” she said. She led Amber up a flight of stairs to her room. The large chamber was dominated by a four poster bed with pulled curtains that reminded Amber of the more ornate ones in the palace she had lived in. Chandra reached into a box and took out a large number of metal rings, each about twice the size of her wrist. She placed the box against the wall opposite the bed.

“This is an exercise I like to put Belle through,” said the Amazon. “Let's see how well you do.” She put the rings on the pillow of her large bed. “You will crawl on your hands and knees and take a ring in your mouth, and bring it to the box as fast as you can. Put it in the box and get another. You will move as fast as you can, and you will not stand up.” Her voice was aloof and imperious. Amber got on her knees and looked up at the Amazon, who seemed to tower over her.

“If you don't move quickly enough for my liking, I will offer you some encouragement,” she said. She produced a short riding whip and snapped it in the air. Amber gulped.

“Begin,” the Amazon commanded. Amber crawled over onto the bed and picked a ring up with her mouth. There pile seemed huge to her. As soon as she crawled down she felt a sharp sting on her bottom.

“Nnnnnhh,” she cried, but she did not drop the ring. The pain lingered a long time. She crossed the floor that suddenly seemed to get larger and put it back in its box and turned to go back. Just as she reached the bed she was lashed again, and let out a yelp. The sting was vicious and bit deep into her flesh. She felt terribly exposed.

“Hurry up, lazy,” said the Amazon as Amber raced back and forth. If Amber raised herself too high she received a sting on her back. She could not escape the whip. It seemed she could not move fast enough for Chandra, who whipped her every time she crossed the room. Amber began to sob again, unable to hold back her tears. Her backside was aflame, and she felt utterly humiliated by the Amazon's game.

“Move it, or I'll tan your hide,” said Chandra firmly. She nudged Amber forward with the tip of her boot.

The pile of rings never seemed to get smaller. She panted and sweat, and her legs tired. She wanted to beg Chandra for mercy but didn't dare to do so. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she finished. Amber knelt before her stern Mistress. She panted heavily, breasts heaving, as tears rolled down her face. There were red welts across her back and buttocks. Chandra admonished her to kiss her boots and Amber did so, bereft of any dignity.

The slave girl received no rest before her next activity. Chandra went to the wall of the room and turned a wheel with a length of chain wrapped around it. The chain went up the wall and across the ceiling via a pulley, and the end was attached to a horizontal bar, just like the one in Keira's room.

“Do you know what these were made for?” she asked.

“No, Mistress,” Amber replied, regaining some composure.

“Originally it was for lacing up a woman's corset; she could put her hands on it while being laced from behind. We've since found more...interesting uses for it.” She took Amber's wrists, cased in their restraints, and fastened them to the ends of the bar over her head, about three feet apart. Chandra pressed put her arm around Amber's waist and pulled her against her breast, kissing her on the mouth. Amber felt her sex throbbing again. Chandra kissed her forehead and neck. With her hands bound overhead, to was impossible for the blonde slave to either resist or respond.

“You're trembling, little one,” her Mistress said. She stepped back and looked Amber over, admiring her. The captive girl averted her eyes in shame. “Tell me, how do you think you did in our little game, h'm?”

“Not well, Mistress,” said Amber meekly.

“Why not?”

“Because I couldn't move fast enough for you.”

“Do you think you ever could have?”

Amber pause a moment. “No, Mistress,” she said with resignation.

“Then what was the point, h'm?”

“I don't know, Mistress.”

“I wanted to see how eager you were to please,” said Chandra. “I whipped you because it pleased me to do so. So why do you think you are bound as you are now?”

“Because it pleases you, Mistress.”

“Indeed. It pleases me very much, to see you like this.” Chandra pinched Amber's nipples. The slave girl's breasts suddenly felt heavy and exposed.

“Now, I'm going to test your obedience further, and if you do well I will reward you. If not, you will be lashed further and receive no pleasure. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Spread your legs apart...further,” Chandra commanded. Amber obeyed. “I'm going to deliver some more strokes, and you must not bring your legs together. Do this and I may be pleased.”

Chandra took her whip and went around behind Amber, pacing back and forth, like a cat stalking a mouse. Amber heard the hiss of the riding whip an instant before it struck the back of her left leg. She clenched her thigh muscles and bent her knees ever so slightly upon feeling the harsh sting, but kept her legs apart as commanded. Chandra cracked the whip against Amber's naked flesh again and again, focusing on her upper legs, daring her to close them. The blonde slave winced and stoically held her position, though just barely. She cried out pitifully as the whip bit her repeatedly, as though her voice might somehow soften Chandra's heart. It did not. Amber yelped in pain as the lash struck her lower bottom, crossing a previous mark that still hurt. She pictured her backside criss-crossed with deep red marks, though the reality was not so bad.

Suddenly, the whip struck her between the legs, right at the tip of her hungry sex.

“Ooo,” she cried, but it was more because of where the whip struck than how hard. Chandra snapped the whip at her groin again, then again.

“Aaaahh...” Amber yelped. Her thigh muscles clenched harder than ever before. Her knees bent inward. She kept control, however, and her feet remained planted apart.

“Not bad,” said Chandra. “You have performed satisfactorily. I will give you your reward now.”

The Amazon brought over a small table. There was a polished phallus attached to it, like a finger pointing upward. She moved it and placed it between Amber's legs. She then turned the wheel on the wall again, lowering the bar that held Amber's wrists over her head. The slave girl could now lower her hips to the phallus and pleasure herself. She thought it lewd and humiliating to do so front of Chandra, but her swollen sex hungered, and she craved release.

“Go ahead,” said Chandra. “Or perhaps you need some encouragement?” She took a paddle from a drawer and tapped Amber's sore bottom with it. With a moan, the poor slave lowered her wet sex onto the phallus and closed her eyes, feeling the pleasure mount inside her. Chandra continued to paddle her gently, as Amber moved her hips up and down faster and faster. He breathing intensified and her body glistened with sweat now, as she abandoned herself to the feelings deep inside. Finally, when the orgasmic wave washed through her, she let out a series of load moans and tossed her head back, relieved at last. Chandra stroked her gently.

“Thank you, Mistress,” she panted.

At last, Chandra flashed a pleased smile, if only momentarily.

That night, Amber lay on Chandra's bed, spread eagled and unable to move. Soft ropes that felt like velvet secured her wrists and ankles to the four bedposts. She saw the raven haired Amazon enter

and undress, and Amber felt the stirrings of desire between her legs again. Chandra came to the bed and caressed her face softly, then moved her hand to the bound girl's breast.

“Tonight, you're all mine, dear,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Amber quietly. She closed her eyes and savored Chandra's touch. The Amazon proceeded to make love to her for a long time, and Amber could not reciprocate. Chandra straddled Amber's face and made her lick her pussy until she came, and put her breasts to the bound blonde's mouth so she could suck them. Despite her fear of this woman, or perhaps because of it, Amber climaxed multiple times that night.

* * * *

It was the last day before Keira was supposed to return. Amber spent her time when not working in the cage in Chandra's cabin, thoroughly bored. She wished she were with Keira now, if only to relieve this monotony. Chandra spent most of her time helping her mother, the Matron of the tribe, and much of her time at home playing with Belle. They seemed to have a strong bond. She trained Amber as well, but those sessions only constituted a small portion of the slave girl's day.

Finally, Chandra opened up Amber's cage and helped her out. The Amazon wore a leather tunic and skirt, with her customary high boots.

“I have one more surprise for you, little one,” she said. “If you endure it, you can spend tonight in my bedchamber. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Very well, then. Come with me.” Chandra clipped a lead to Amber's collar and fastened her restraints together behind her back. They left her spacious cabin together and proceeded down to the town square. Chandra carried a whip with her; Amber wondered what was going to happen. They didn't seem to be going to another home or a shop. Chandra brought her to a pair of free standing posts set right in the middle of the square. There were people milling about, men and women, Amazons and merchants, talking and doing business. Amber recognized where she was. She had seen slaves punished here, presumably for serious offenses, in as pubic a place as possible in order to teach them humility.

A horizontal post lay over the two standing ones. From each corner of the structure hung a length of chain. Chandra took Amber's wrists and clipped them to the chain, over her head. Her arms were now bound above her, diagonally apart.

“Please, Mistress,” she said, “Have I done something wrong?”

“You already know why you're here,” said Chandra. “Don't you remember your previous lesson?”

“Because...it please you, Mistress?”

“Correct. Now, are you going to beg me to release you?”

“No, Mistress,” Amber whimpered.

“You would like to have your reward, tonight?”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Amber nervously. Anything but this, she thought. Not where everyone could see her. There might be slaves or Amazons she knew in the square today. Chandra took her ankle restraints and clipped them to chains at the bottom of the posts, forcing her legs apart. She was now completely exposed for all to see. She noted the coiled whip Chandra carried slung over her shoulder.

“This will be your last test,” said the Amazon. “If you endure it well, I will be pleased. If not, well, we can spend all afternoon here if I feel like it.”

Amber said nothing and gulped. A couple of Chandra's friends came by and greeted the Amazon, and stood nearby to watch. Amber pulled on the chains and looked around desperately, then calmed herself down and kept still, resigned to her fate. Others were staring at her and Chandra now. This can't be happening, she thought.

There was a hiss and a snap. Amber's bottom was stung. She let out a small, plaintive cry. She prayed this humiliation would end soon. The whip bit into her bare flesh repeatedly, but the casual stares of the onlookers were somehow worse for Amber. They looked at her, bemused, as though this sort of thing went on all the time—which it probably did, she realized. Some of them chuckled. More people came to watch. One beautiful woman whipping another was always a pleasant sight to see.

“Oww,” cried Amber as the whip struck her shoulder blade. Tears began to slowly run down her cheek; they were more from shame than from the whip. She kept her eyes closed, but she couldn't help but see the crowd of people around her in her mind's eye.

“Aahh!” she yelped as the whip struck the back of her thigh. More stings followed. Amber gasped each time, and sometimes Chandra struck her hard enough to elicit more cries. Chandra struck her back, her buttocks and her legs with expert precision. Then, after a somewhat longer pause than usual, the Amazon swung the whip so that it coiled around her waist and stung her in the stomach. Amber began to sob a little, though she tried mightily to hold it in. The more pain she showed, the more she felt ashamed, and that only made her want to cry more.

The whip coiled round her several more times. Amber squirmed, straining against her chains but soon relaxing again. There was no point on struggling and she didn't think Chandra would like it. Suddenly the tip of the whip struck her breast, licking the nipple viciously. Amber gasped.

“Oowww...” she moaned. How could Chandra aim the whip like that? Amber heard the crowd's voices, nearer now than before. Tears rolled down her face freely. There were several more blows from Chandra, some in the front and some on her backside. Then Amber felt the snap between her legs.

“Nnnnhh...” she tried to keep her mouth closed. Her hips bucked suggestively for the crowd to see. Amber felt a sudden hate for them. Let them see me, then...She cried out as if in anger as the whip licked her sex once again. The third time, Amber sobbed in earnest and tried to hide her face against her arm. She could not even remember a time when she knew what the word “dignity” meant. The pain had reached a crescendo now; the continuing lashes could only prolong it. Amber hung her head and let her tears fall to the ground. She thought she heard some people express pity for her. It only made her more ashamed.

Amber realized the whipping had stopped. She remained as she was, head down, leaning forward against her chains, the flow of her tears beginning to subside. Her whole backside was on fire.

“There, there,” came Chandra's voice, now in a soothing tone. The Amazon stroked her hair. She felt Chandra's hand between her legs. She remained unmoved; defeated. Nothing could make it any worse for her now.

“You're wet, dear.”

Was that possible, Amber wondered? She realized Chandra was right. Her nether lips were swollen and moist. She had not even noticed in her terror. One of Chandra's friends walked up to her.

“Perhaps she would like some relief?”

“I am sure she would—wouldn't you, girl?” said Chandra.

Amber shuddered as the strange woman caressed her throbbing sex. “Whatever you want, Mistress.”

“I suppose she's earned it,” said Chandra with a smile. Her friend rubbed Amber's eager sex vigorously, and put her fingers inside her. All other thoughts fled Amber's mind and she tossed her head back, sighing and inhaling deeply. Her orgasm came in a series of violent exhalations. Thoroughly debased, Amber slowed her breathing and thanked the woman meekly. She could do whatever Chandra told her to now, she realized; there was no more shame to be had. She wondered if the Amazon would make her perform some other lewd act for the crowd's pleasure, but they had mostly gone, she saw when she opened her eyes at last. Chandra made Amber kiss the whip handle. She bid her friends farewell and then Amber felt the chains being removed from her wrists. Throughout her ordeal Amber had not begged, panicked or screamed uncontrollably. Chandra was satisfied.

That night, she knelt next to Chandra's bed, eyes to floor, hands on her knees, as the Amazon undressed before her. Unlike Keira, she did not have Amber help her. Chandra sat naked on the bed and took the waiting blonde by the wrist, setting her on her lap. She kissed Amber's lips, invading the girl's mouth with her tongue, and caressed her breast. She then pulled away, stroking Amber's hair.

“I'm not sure if Keira knows what she has in you,” said Chandra.

“Mistress?” said Amber, not sure what she meant.

“You very much enjoyed your whipping today,” said Chandra.

“I...I...” she couldn't contradict Chandra, so she decided to say nothing.

“Your mind may not have, but your body told a different story,” said the Amazon. “You moved your hips like you were making love.”

“I did?” Amber blushed red. If that were true, it had been involuntarily.

“Indeed,” said Chandra. “Some slave girls will take a whipping much more stoically, without even crying, but you are even better. You were aroused.”

Amber didn't know what to say.

“I've trained girls for many weeks to try and get that kind of reaction,” said Chandra. “That's why I paddled you when you worked that phallus: So that you would associate the pain with pleasure. But I needn't have even bothered.”

Amber was too embarrassed to say anything. Could this be true? Deep down, did she really like all these punishments?

“Keira is quite lucky,” said Chandra. “It can take a while to make a girl that responsive.” She kissed Ambers cheeks and neck. “I'm going to leave your hands free tonight. I want to show you some things a pleasure slave should know how to do.”

“Oh, thank you, Mistress.”

They eventually fell asleep, but only much later, when they were thoroughly tired from the night's exertions.

* * * *

As intense and passionate as the previous night had been, Amber was relieved to see Keira return on time, even early, from her trip. She carried a sack of valuables she and her companions had confiscated from various pagan temples. There was a thin gold chain with a bright, clear crystal attached to it, as a kind of good luck charm. Keira put it around Amber's waist. The crystal hung just below her navel. Keira decided it looked good on her and Amber thanked her Mistress, affectionately kissing the tips of her boots.

“How was your time with my sister?” asked Keira. “You learned something from, her I hope?”

“It was...revealing, Mistress,” said Amber.

Later that evening, as they ate together, Amber said something that surprised even herself.

“I think...I could perhaps use a bit more discipline, Mistress...if it's not too much trouble for you,” she said, laying her head in Keira's lap.

“Oh?” Her Mistress raised an eyebrow; this was not, understandably, a typical request from a slave.

“It seems to do me good, Mistress.”

Keira smiled and stroked her slave's head. “Well, if you think you need it, we can put some more effort into your training,” she said.

“Thank you, Mistress.” What am I saying? She thought to herself. Still, she did feel excited by the prospect of spending more time being trained by Keira. Whether or not Chandra was right about her, she was soon to find out.

* * * *

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 6: Pet Play

Keira and her sisters often shared their slave girls; hence, one morning a few days later, Dawn borrowed Amber from Keira and played a game with her, one that Amber found unusually humiliating. Dawn enjoyed it very much. On the table were about a dozen phallic objects, varying in size and length; some were metal, some polished wood, some glass. They were all different colors. Amber's wrists were cuffed to a spreader bar above her, and a similar bar separated her legs below. She was trying to memorize each one's color and shape.

“Time's up,” said her young Mistress.

Dawn put a black cloth blindfold over Amber's eyes and tied it behind her head. She put her fingers in her mouth to wet them, them slid them over the the lips of Amber's pussy to moisten her. She took one of the objects and sucked on it to lubricate it. Amber felt the cold, hard metal of a phallus inside her.

“Which one is this?” asked Dawn.

“Um, the silver one, Mistress?”

“Good.” Dawn pulled the rod out and dribbled some spittle onto Amber's crotch, spreading it to her labia. She then moved it back and forth inside her for a little while. When she was finished she put the dildo away inside a drawer.

“You can look again.” Dawn raised the blindfold so Amber could try to memorize the objects again. There was one fewer than before. After a few moments she lowered it again. Amber felt another phallus, larger and thicker than the other, pushed into her vagina this time. It forced her labial lips wide open and stretched her skin uncomfortably; Amber figured it had to be one of the largest.

“Which is this one?” asked Dawn.

“I think it's the black one, Mistress?” the slave guessed.

“Incorrect,” said Dawn with a sadistic smile. The phallus was removed. There was a moment of silence before Amber heard Dawn pick something up. She heard the telltale swoosh of a cane before she felt its sharp bite on her behind.

“Ow,” she cried.

There was a second swoosh, and another crack on her poor ass.

“Ouch!” The cane didn't just sting, it seem to linger and burn, especially when it struck areas where her skin was thinner.

“Time to look again,” said Dawn. She went and raised the blindfold. This time whatever object she had felt before was still with the others. After a little while Dawn pulled down her blindfold, picked something up and opened up her pussy lips with two fingers. Amber felt something cold and hard, thin at first but then wide—too wide—as it was pushed further into her.

“That's the bottle, Mistress.”

“Easy one,” said Dawn. Amber's blindfold was removed again. Dawn put the wine bottle away. She looked out her window, to see the position of the sun. “I have to leave soon,” she said. “We can finish later.” She unlocked the cuffs around Amber's wrists and ankles, and put the objects away. “I'll be gone for most of today. Finish cleaning this room and start on the other one. I'll know if you slack off,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress.” Amber was silently happy to be spared from playing this silly game.

Just as they were about to say goodbye, Chandra walked in to ask her sister a favor.

“Belle's been bothering me all morning; can you take her out and get her some exercise for me please?”

“I'd like to, but I have to see my father today,” said Dawn. “Do you think Amber could do it? She's pretty obedient.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” said Chandra.

“Tell you what; you can have her today while I'm gone.”

“That's nice of you.”

“Do whatever Chandra says,” Dawn admonished her slave before leaving.

Amber kissed Dawn's feet as a goodbye, and the younger Mistress left. She had now been passed from one sister to another, to the next, like some toy, and felt a little angry for being treated as less than a full person. Still, it was a little exciting not knowing what was in store for her...

Chandra took Amber's hand and led her out to her own home.

“I'll show you what I need,” she said.

Belle had been dependent on Chandra ever since the Amazon saved the helpless girl's life. It was a profound experience for someone who had once treated others so badly without fear of consequence, and Belle was devoted to her, always craving her attention. Chandra expressed affection for her slave by humiliating her. A good Mistress took a slave to her limits, she believed.

Chandra was often tender, even letting Belle suck milk from her breast, but her training methods were harsh. Belle learned to play fetch and do other tricks for Chandra's endless amusement. And Belle was required to perform, sexually and otherwise, for friends when Chandra wanted to show her off. Belle received treats and other rewards for being “good.” Belle was deeply shamed by all these acts, but they produced powerful, thrilling sensations deep inside her. The more Chandra debased her the more Belle came crawling back—literally—for more. That was Chandra's ideal for a slave; a good friend who stuck with her in good times and bad, whom she happened to dominate mentally and physically.

Her Mistress didn't often lend her out to anyone else, and Belle felt safe with her; Chandra was her protector. Belle was shy by nature, and that was perhaps why her exhibitions for Chandra's friends excited her. But when Chandra was away, Belle could be shy and reserved. When she first met the Matron's twins, for example, they had started pinching and teasing her playfully, and Belle was afraid they might really hurt her. When they saw she was frightened to tears, they cuddled her and calmed her down. She warmed up to them, but remained wary of strangers.

While Keira played her game with Amber, Chandra was at her desk copying from a book—a rare and valuable item that she had to return soon—when Belle grew restless. She pawed at the door with her outstretched hand, permanently encased in its mitten, holding her leash in her mouth. She wanted a walk.

“Not now, I'm busy,” said Chandra. Belle whimpered audibly. She wiggled her hips to wag her tail and paced around the carpet. (The tail was Chandra's devious handiwork, arising from her tail bone as a real one might do naturally. The hair plugs were planted deep in Belle's flesh; she could roll around and tug on it all she wanted, but it would not come out). Belle walked over to her Mistress on all fours—the only way she could walk—and rubbed up against her legs. The small bells on the slave's nipple rings and nose jingled incessantly, annoying the one who had put them on her.

“I'm going to pierce your clit without anesthetic if you don't keep quiet,” said Chandra.

Belle sat flat on her stomach in Chandra's room, her head on her mittened hands, a pouting expression on her face. She was thoroughly bored.

Finally Chandra, knowing Belle might start misbehaving just to get her Mistress's attention, went over to Keira's home and asked her to exercise her pet slave. Chandra came back with Amber instead.

“Belle, you've met Amber before, haven't you?”

Belle's expression remained neutral.

“Sit,” commanded Chandra. Belle sat up on her knees, her elbows at her side, forearms raised parallel to the floor. She stuck her tongue out for Chandra and panted.

“Is she always like this, Mistress?” asked Amber.

Chandra nodded. “It's how she serves me, for my amusement. She'll lick any pussy I tell her, so she fills the minimum requirements for a slave.”

Amber was fascinated. Belle was rather petite in figure and had been made up to look girlish and cute. She was perhaps fifteen, or sixteen at the oldest. Bright blush makeup, more than anyone would normally use, adorned her cheeks, and her light blonde hair was made up in two ponytails on each side of her head. Two white lace garters were pasted around each of her breasts (which were noticeably big for her age); she wore similar lacy adornments around her waist, wrists, thighs, shins and upper arms. Her pubis was shaved bald. Chandra had even tied light blue ribbons at the base of each ponytail and the tail at her rear. Her collar had many rings around it: sometimes Chandra put bells on them. The former tyrant looked rather adorable.

Belle's upper and lower legs were strapped together by cuffs she wore at her ankles and thighs, and she could move them apart a little when she needed. She could not walk upright. Belle was too proud to show frustration and confidently walked on her padded knees and mittens.

Chandra clipped a long leash with small metal links to Belle's collar and handed the other end to Amber. Chandra got a bag and put several large leather rings and toy balls inside. She added a plain white phallus (“If Belle behaves,” she said) and some food. She gave the bag to Amber, who slung it over her shoulder.

“If you don't treat her well or get careless, she'll let me know,” warned Chandra. “Take her for a nice walk; make her play around and get some good exercise; that's your responsibility. Feed her at noon. Understand?”

Amber nodded.

“Belle, be a good girl for me,” said Chandra as she kissed her pet's forehead. “Now, walk.” Belle got back on all fours and obediently followed Amber out the door, but she looked back at Chandra with sad, puppy-dog eyes.

Amber wore some ornaments Keira had given her: a feather necklace, brass bracelets, earrings, the silver chain belt, and so forth—they were the only things she was permitted to wear. She was still a bit uneasy about her lack of clothing. She wondered how Belle felt about her own costume. She led the pet slave out of Chandra's residence. Outside it was a beautiful day, ideal for walking around in the nude, which was what she had to do every day anyway. The shapely blonde walked, leash in hand, next to the more petite girl who scampered along on all fours. Belle was not happy to be away from her Mistress. She ran ahead, paused, or wandered to the side of the path as far as her leash would allow. She said something in her weak voice that Amber did not understand, but it seemed to amount to “You're not in charge of me.”

Amber gave Belle more slack, tugging on her chain if she fell too far behind. Belle resisted. Amber forced her to follow. She didn't know how she was going to make Mistress Chandra happy if Belle did not cooperate. And she was justifiably afraid of displeasing her; Chandra elevated punishment to an art form. At least out here, under the inviting sun, she didn't have to constantly worry about making mistakes. The Matron's family had high standards and little patience with their slaves.

“You have it pretty easy, you know, Belle,” said Amber. Belle never really had to work; she just played the role of the family pet. The four-legged slave girl looked up at Amber and shrugged. “I heard you're from Calledon. I visited there once with Princess...”

Belle wasn't really paying attention to her, so Amber stopped. The pet slave didn't seem interested in conversation. With a resigned sigh, Amber wondered what she could get Belle to do. She walked her over to a clearing to see if perhaps she wanted to run around; instead Belle sat in the shade of a tree, curled up and close her eyes.

“Oh, come on,” aid Amber as she pulled on the chain harder and harder until Belle was forced to get up and follow her. “We'll find something else, then.” She tossed a ball to the middle of the clearing. Belle stared at it and sat down. Amber exhaled in frustration and went to pick it up, muttering under her breath. Belle wasn't in the mood to play with Amber. She wanted her Mistress.

Belle reached up into the bag and pawed at the food in it, but Amber shook her head. “It's not time yet.” Belle sat with her arms around her knees, staring ahead angrily.

“You want to get me in trouble, don't you?”

Belle shrugged and said something terse.

“You're a spoiled little bitch, you know that,” said Amber in frustration. Belle turned her head around and looked at her. She said something in her faint, scratchy voice (“Only Mistress calls me that”) with a haughty expression and turned away.

Amber thought a moment, and an idea came to her.

“If you have so much pride, let's see if I can humble you a bit,” she said, and gave Belle's leash a good tug, and led her into the town.

Belle took in the sights and sounds with interest, but looked nervous to be there. Village men and women would smile and pinch her cheek as they passed, and Belle was shy. Amber was getting used to the way the Amazons stared at her openly; she didn't mind the attention as much. She led Belle to an unoccupied area, and then knelt down to look Belle square in the eye. Amber took the dildo Chandra had given her out of the bag.

“You're getting your exercise, young lady, like it or not. Otherwise, I'm going bring you to the square where everyone can see us, and fuck you silly with this. In the ass. I have permission (Well, technically, she thought), and I'd rather do that that get whipped because of you.”

Belle looked at Amber pleadingly and shook her head. Her eyes watered.

“Well then, what do you want to do?”

Belle stood on her knees and put her mittens around her leash, tugging it, and mouthed the word please.

“Want me to take it off?”

Belle nodded.

“All right.” Amber knew Belle, having to scamper around on her hands and knees, couldn't run away from her, so she unclipped her leash from her collar and put it in her bag.

“Now what?”

Belle reached out a mitten and fingered the crystal Amber wore on a chain around her waist, a gift from Keira, with fascination. She reached out a mitten to her and Amber took it in her hand. Belle led her, moving awkwardly but with determination, towards the open air markets. Traveling merchants had set up stalls everywhere, displaying everything from tools to food to jewelry. It wasn't especially crowded yet, as it was still early.

“We haven't any money, dear,” said Amber. She had worked to earn money for Keira but hadn't so much as touched a coin herself since her enslavement.

Belle looked up and squeaked something slowly and carefully, to the effect of “I just want to look, please.”

“I suppose we have time,” said Amber. If it made Belle more cooperative it couldn't hurt. Belle looked wistfully at a stand selling gold necklaces and earrings, keeping a respectful distance. She had had beautiful things once, but probably never would again. This was her life now.

She went into a small, cozy shop, arrayed with intricate glass figures and ornaments, followed by Amber. She looked around and found a pair of earrings; she stared at them longingly. They were made of fake gold and spherical shaped. Amber could see why she liked them; they fit her playful appearance. She fingered one of them gently.

“Hey, no loitering, slave.” said the storekeeper from behind a counter. “Paying customers only. Unless you got coin you have to go.”

Amber made a sincere apology.

“Your Mistress send you?” the merchant asked.

Amber shook her head.

“If you want something ask your Mistress or whatever; I have to make room for people who can pay.”

Amber looked around. There was no one else inside. She walked up to the keeper and leaned over the counter. The merchant was a middle aged man with a round belly and balding head, and a generally pleasant demeanor.

Suddenly, Amber grew bold.

“Perhaps,” she said, “We could come up with an alternative?” She smiled sweetly. She arched her back and pushed her chest forward, pointing her shapely breasts directly at the storekeep. She tossed her head to the side coquettishly.

“I—uh, um, I don't think so, missy; we'd both be in trouble.” Now, the merchant really liked coming to the Amazons' territory, even though they were thrifty with money. Any place where lovely, nude young women walked around in broad daylight was okay in his book. But the Amazons also had a strict “look-but-don't-touch” policy regarding their slave girls, and it was strictly enforced. If he was caught in a compromising situation he might not be let back in their village again, or worse.

“No one will see,” said Amber in an innocent voice, widening her inviting red lips into a most seductive smile “I'll just come over here...” She went around behind the counter and knelt down, out of sight. “...see?”

“Now, um, wait...”

“You could give it as a gift, couldn't you? My Mistress would like that. Just let me plead my case.” She opened up his trousers with a mischievous smile and licked her lips.

“Oh dear...”

Belle froze in fear. This could get Amber into real trouble. Amazons were very possessive. She didn't know Amber well but certainly didn't want her to face her Mistress's full wrath; she wouldn't wish that on anyone.

The merchant looked furtively around and began to grunt. He closed his eyes and swallowed nervously. His breathing intensified. He'd hadn't felt quite this good in a long time. Belle glanced outside; people were passing by. The merchant was torn between ecstasy and fear of getting caught. Amber had had practice, thanks to Keira, and knew what she was doing. Her tongue rolled sensually around the merchant's cock, touching where it was most sensitive and rubbing it against the soft, moist inside of her cheek.

“Okay! Okay! It's a gift!...aaaahhhh...” he let out a long sigh of relief and release. Amber swallowed most of his cum and licked the rest off of his cock like it was the best thing she had ever tasted. He took a rag and wiped what had spilled onto Amber's body so no one else could tell what had happened.

“That's so kind of you, sir,” said Amber in her sweetest voice. “I thought you would understand.” She went to the wall, took the earrings and placed into the small holes of Belle's pierced ears.

“Just this once now.”

“Oh, of course. Thank you again.”

As Amber waved goodbye, a good looking young Amazon came in with a nude slave girl on a leash; the slave looked very much like her Mistress. The slave was Natalie, and her hands were bound behind her to discourage her from taking anything that wasn't hers, though she had pleaded that there was no way she could possibly steal. Her Mistress, Naomi, who was also her older sister, decided to play it safe with her submissive sibling, who was not a model of obedience.

“Hello, I had my slave's nipples pierced a little while ago; can I try some things on her?”

“Of course, of course.” the merchant tried to avoid staring at the pretty girls.

“Stick your chest out,” Naomi said to her sister, who stood up straighter and pushed her breasts forward. The merchant sighed. I'm getting to old for this, he thought, worried that he had almost been caught. Perhaps there was too much of a good thing.

Belle and Amber walked through the street past the displays.

“Ready for some exercise?” Amber asked.

Belle nodded. She looked at Amber with amazement. She tugged on her hand, and Amber knelt down.

“What is it, dear?”

Belle licked a small smear of semen from Amber's lips.

“Oh, thanks,” the blonde wiped her face to make sure no traces remained. Belle was saying something now, but speaking too fast to be understood. She was trembling slightly. Amber thought she understood the gist of it.

“It's alright,” she reassured her companion. “You just get a man to like you, and he gives you shiny things. It's the way the world works, slave or not. I knew what I was doing.”

Belle raised her eyebrows in wonder. She leaned forward and kissed Amber on the cheek.

“Don't think anything of it,” Amber said. “Listen, I'm sorry I got angry at you. I know we don't know each other well; I just want to do what your Mistress wants. Will you play with me for a bit?”

Belle nodded. She took Amber's hand and led her out of the merchant area. Amber followed the crawling girl down a path to the nearby woods. Sometimes Belle's tail swayed, revealing her cute little pussy, and Amber couldn't help but stare. Her tits hung down as well, swaying as she crawled and ringing the little bells on her nipples. Amber agreed it was a pretty humiliating way to be seen, but it was sexy for the person watching. Thy walked until the village square was well behind them.

Belle stopped a little ways into the woods.

“What's here?” asked Amber.

Belle pointed ahead. There was a stream running to a pond, the same one Amber sometimes relaxed in.

“Oh, this is nice.” Amber waded in, and felt the cool water rush over her ankles, almost up to her knees. She wondered how far the stream went. Belle knelt at the edge and tried to drink. She had to lap it up like an animal; Chandra always enjoyed watching her do that. Amber waded over to her and scooped up some water, reaching out to Belle. The pet slave gratefully sipped out of Amber's outstretched hands. When she had enough, she smiled at Amber sweetly. Amber walked backwards to the middle of the stream and beckoned Belle to join her. Belle shook her head nervously.

“Oh, come on, it's only up to your waist,” insisted her blonde companion.

Belle hesitated. Amber walked over, picked up the ponytailed girl by the shoulders and put her down in the stream. Belle scampered a bit to find her footing. Her rear tail was wet, but she didn't mind. Belle found it easy to wade around on her padded knees and mittens; Amber had to step more carefully to avoid carefully to avoid stubbing her toe.

Belle splashed some water on Amber. The taller slave girl got down on one knee and splashed water onto Belle's chest, making the bells on her nipples jingle. Belle looked at Amber with mock indignation and retaliated with a surge of water in Amber's face, then scampered away upstream. Amber rubbed her eyes and saw Belle laughing at her.

“Hey you, come here,” Amber smiled, stood and began to follow her fellow slave. Belle crawled quickly through the water, and Amber chased after her.

Belle stayed ahead of her until she came to a pile of sticks in the stream she couldn't cross. She turned around with a guilty smile as Amber caught up to her. The blonde splashed Belle's chest a couple more times and Belle sent a few more waves in retaliation. Eventually, Amber sat down in the cool water to rest.

Belle crawled up to her and rested her head on Amber's shoulder. Amber put an arm around her, and then on impulse, she put her other hand on Belle's thigh and slid it slowly towards her crotch, just below the water. Belle looked at her, and her expression changed from innocent mirth to something more serious. She didn't move. Amber felt her way to the lips of Belle's pussy. Belle kept looking at her, not moving. Slowly, Amber moved her finger back and forth between Belle's pussy lips. The skin was smooth and rounded, and pleasant to the touch. She felt Belle's clitoris and rubbed it gently.

Belle put her other arm around on Amber's shoulder, wrapping herself around the taller slave's neck. She pulled herself up until Amber felt the little metal bells on the pet's nipples against her own breasts. Belle rested her head against Amber's cheek and closed her eyes, savoring her companion's attentions. Amber fingered the smaller girl's pussy like a delicate flower, opening the lips gently and poking a finger inside, feeling the the wet folds of her skin. She could have gone further but stopped and lowered Belle gently onto her knee, kissing her forehead.

“Ready to exercise a bit, now?” she asked.

Belle nodded her consent, finally.

When they stepped out of the creek, Belle shook her head and wagged her hips vigorously, her tail shaking, like an animal trying to dry off. Her breasts jiggled and her nipple bells rang. Amber thought it looked very funny.

“There's a field here--we'll be alone,” said Amber after walking a little distance away. It was an open clearing with short, springy grass that was comfortable to walk on. But Belle didn't follow. Amber called to her.

Belle stood on her knees, hands raised, elbows at her sides. Her tongue was sticking out, and she was panting. She looked around, pretending not to understand.

“Oh, I see,” said Amber. “Want to play? This should be fun.” She whistled and called out “Come here Belle; here girl,” and whistled again. Belle came over happily to her, and rubbed up against Amber's leg affectionately.

“Good girl...good girl.” Amber patted the pet slave's head.

Belle stood on her knees again and panted, tongue out like before.

“Let's see what we have here,” said Amber, reaching into he bag. She took out a leather ball. “Want to play fetch?”

Belle nodded agreeably.

“Go bring it back to me,” said Amber as she tossed it some distance aways. Belle stretched out first, putting her arms out straight in front of her and leaning back on her haunches, imitating a cat. She scampered over to the ball, moving as efficiently as she could, tail moving in the wind, and picked it up between her teeth. She trotted back to Amber and dropped it at her feet, then sat up, making an emphatic throwing motion her hand.

“Okay, I'll throw farther.”

She tossed the ball overhand towards the other edge of the clearing and Belle started to chase it as soon as it was in the air. To get around, Belle always had to plant her hands in front of her first and then pull her legs behind her; she couldn't push off of her knees with much force. Her forearms had gotten a bit stronger and she could crawl with remarkable speed, but if she tried to go too fast she stumbled.

“Careful,” Amber called to her. Belle made it to the ball and brought it back again, her tits swaying pleasantly as she moved towards Amber.

“Just as far?” asked Amber. Belle nodded. Amber tossed it towards a tree on the other side of the clearing and it bounced off the trunk. When Belle got to it she circled the tree a few times, looking up at the squirrels on the branches. She pawed at them, trying to climb up, and they ran away. Amber laughed out loud.

“You're really do take to this,” she said. Belle trotted back, swaying her tail proudly by moving her hips side to side. She dropped the ball and licked Scarlet's leg. Amber tossed it underhand and it traveled high in the air; Belle ran out and tried to get under it. She put her mouth on it when it bounced back up, and Amber cheered her on.

“Good job, girl.” Belle came back and rolled over on her back, mittens raised to her shoulders, swaying side to side, a girlish smile on her face.

“Having fun, are we?”

Belle nodded and swayed her chest to each side, jingling the bells on her nipples.

“Can you wag your tail for me?” asked Amber.

Belle turned around and vigorously shook her hips side to side so the tail swung with them, shaking her ass at Amber. It was such an openly lewd gesture; Amber chuckled and slapped Belle's bottom.

“You've got a cute lit—well, you are a cute little pussy,” joked Amber. Belle blushed at the remark.

Amber continued tossing the ball for almost half an hour; Belle had a lot of endurance. After that she tossed several rings around the clearing and Belle collected them all between her teeth before bringing them back. They repeated the game a couple of times; the last time Belle kept one in her mouth and wouldn't let go. Amber pulled and Belle made a growling sound, turning her head back and forth to shake Amber's grip. Amber tossed another ring a short distance, and Belle dropped the one in her mouth to chase it instead.

In the last game they had time for, Belle moved a ball from one end of the field to the other, pushing it with her nose, as fast as she could. Belle went back and forth twice over; after doing this at full speed, she was sweaty and breathing heavily.

“I think you've had enough for today,” said Amber. “You've been a good girl.” Amber bent down on one knee and rubbed Belle's chin with her fingers. Belle closed her eyes and stuck her head out further in response. Amber rose again. “Need another drink?” she asked. Belle nodded. Before she went back to the stream, though, Belle tugged at the ring on her neck collar.

“Want your leash?” asked Amber. “You didn't like it before.” Belle looked up at her pleadingly.

“I guess we're friends now,” said Amber. She clipped the long metal chain back onto Belle's collar; the ensemble was now complete. Amber led her back to the stream where Belle lapped up the water with her tongue—this time she wanted to do it that way, even though the ends of her ponytails got wet. Having run around for almost an hour, she was quite thirsty and took a while to get her fill. When finished she patted her stomach. Amber fed her bread and fruit by hand. Sometimes Amber tossed pieces to her, and Belle caught them skillfully with her mouth.

With their lunch finished, there was one more thing Belle wanted. She licked Amber's feet again and made that pleading look she did so well.

“Want your reward?” asked Amber. Brazenly, Belle turned around, put her head to the ground and raised her haunches into the air at Amber, spreading her thighs open. With her covered hands she pushed her tail aside and opened up her pussy lips as best she could. Amber poked a finger inside the pet slave's vagina, feeling her labia, which was nice and moist. She then pulled the dildo out from the leather bag. She was a little embarrassed by it, but Belle had no such shame. Chandra had broken down Belle's sexual inhibitions long ago.

“Can you roll over?”

Belle rolled onto her back and put her mittens up against her shoulders, palms against the air. She stuck her tongue out and breathed heavily.

“Open up you legs...that's right. Now suck on this first.” Amber put the dildo in Belle's mouth, and the brunette pet sucked on it greedily. Amber moved it up and down, in and out of Belle's mouth until it was good and wet from her saliva. Belle's pussy didn't need any additional treatment; it was already dripping wet.

Amber slid the solid shaft easily in and out of Belle. The pet girl made longing, sighing noises, and began pushing her hips back and forth wildly.

“Whoa girl,” said Amber. “Go slow; you'll enjoy it more.” But Belle was having none of that. She fucked the dildo as fast as she could, rocking her hips faster than Amber moved her hand, panting heavily the whole time. Amber withdrew the Phallus and sat down cross-legged on the grass.

“Let's try it this way,” she said. She brought Belle stomach-down onto her lap, putting the leash over to the side. Belle raised her hind end and Amber once again pushed the dildo back and forth into her throbbing pussy. She massaged Belle's plump breast, twisting her ringed nipple lightly between her fingers, sending tingling sensations down Belle's spine. The pet slave shuddered. She moved her haunches back and forth vigorously once again.

“Slow down,” Amber said again. “Here, let me try this.” She got up and knelt behind Belle. Brushing the tail aside, she felt the moisture on the pet's crotch with her hand, and began to lick her pussy lips. She tongued her clitoris. Belle moaned even louder. Amber added the thrusting phallus to her efforts. She tongued the Bottom of Belle's pussy while pushing the dildo in and out of her. She did this for some time. When Belle's moans increased in intensity, Amber rose up on her knees and pushed the phallus a little harder and quicker inside her. Belle rocked back and forth emphatically, until she cried out (weakly) in an intense, orgasmic rapture.

Amber lay down on her back, hands behind her neck, taking in the warm sun and staring off into the sky. Belle lay with her head on Amber's chest, her leash trailing away, occasionally kissing and sucking the blonde's nipples affectionately. Amber reached out and patted Belle's head.

“We should play more often,” she said. She heard Belle make an almost continuous, low rumbling noise in the back of her throat. She's purring, Amber realized. A little later Amber walked Belle home, leading her with the leash; this time, Belle kept up with her companion step for step, tongue out and tail wagging.

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 7: Rough Treatment

When they returned to Chandra's cabin it was lit by several candles, and the bondage equipment in her room cast strange, ominous shadows on the wall. The tall, black-haired vixen had finished copying what she wanted from her book, and was ready for them when they returned. She was dressed oddly to Amber's eyes; she wore tall black leather boots and a corset, matching gloves that went up past her elbows, and a kind of black thong. She was tall, curvy, tanned and well toned.

“We have some time to play,” she said. “Would you like that, Belle?”

The light haired slave nodded her head vigorously, tongue sticking out. Chandra took Belle's leash from Amber.

“Oh dear, you got your tail wet,” she said to Belle. “I'll have to comb that out.” She gave Belle a smack on the bottom and straightened out her tail before it dried.

“And you dear,” she said, taking Amber by the hand, “Are mine for today.” She led the blonde slave to the wall and backed her up against it. She took Amber's wrist restraints and raised them above her head, locking them to rings on the wall. She put her finger on Amber's lips and smiled. “You can watch, first.” Chandra moved with supreme deliberation and confidence, as opposed to her younger, more carefree sister Dawn. She picked up a slim black cane and moved over to Belle.

“Were you a good girl today?” she asked.

Belle nodded and smiled.

“Where did you get these?” Chandra indicated the new earrings Belle was wearing. Belle sat up proudly and tried to explain, as best she could, how a kind merchant had given them as a gift because they looked so nice on her. Belle had to use body language in addition to her strangled speech. Her Mistress seemed to understand.

“Show off,” smirked Chandra. “Did you play with Amber?” Again Belle nodded yes.

“Then you can play with me.” Chandra tossed a ball against the wall so it bounced across the room. “Chase,” she ordered.

Belle nudged the ball with her nose and followed it forward, nudged it again, and kept crawling around the room after it. Chandra swatted her bottom numerous times with a cane to encourage her. Belle moved more quickly, straining the end of her leash, and Chandra delivered her strokes faster. She didn't stop until the pet slave had circled the room with her ball at least three times and as quickly as she could. Chandra smiled, very much amused.

“Sit up,” she ordered. Belle sat on her knees, thighs spread apart, hands up to her shoulders, palms out. She stuck out her tongue and panted. She was tired, and sweating. Chandra walked behind Belle to a shelf from witch she took something made of a series of leather straps. Scarlet saw it was some kind of gag. There was a large ring that went in Belle's mouth to keep it open. It fastened behind her neck and two straps ran from the top of her head down to a buckle below her chin.

Chandra sat on her sofa and crossed her legs.

“My boots need cleaning, Belle.” She tugged her slave's leash and Belle crawled over, moving her tongue past the leather ring in her mouth, onto Chandra's boots. She moved her head up and down, shining the boots with her saliva.

“Faster, lazy girl,” said Chandra as she swat Belle bottom with her cane. Belle tried to move faster, but it was never enough; the blows become more and more frequent until the girl had pretty much licked all of Chandra's black boot, which was no small feat. After that Chandra crossed her other leg over, and Belle repeated the process. She was looking weary, but Chandra snapped at her to go faster still. The cane left several pink stripes on Belle's skin. When she had finally licked both boots clean, Belle resumed her upright sitting position, tongue wagging.

Chandra put the tip of her cane under Belle's chin.

“You're a cute little slut, aren't you?” she said. Belle nodded happily. “Show me what a slut you are, girl,” Chandra said sternly.

Belle turned around and raised her hindquarters in the air to her Mistress.

“Shake your ass,” Chandra said. “Wag that tail.” Belle moved her hips back and forth with pride, tail swaying. Her Mistress tapped her pussy with the end of her cane, and then gave it several sharp swats. Belle yelped.

“You're wet, little slut, aren't you?”

Belle nodded. It was harder to read her expression with the ring gag but she looked excited.

“Hump my leg.”

Chandra pulled on Belle's leash and she backed up; Chandra then put her smooth black boot up against her slave's wet pussy. Belle moved her haunches up and down against the slick leather. She began to sigh and pant in her squeaky voice, deriving pleasure from the hard, smooth surface rubbing against her tender nether regions.

“Faster—faster, bitch,” demanded Chandra. Belle moved up and down as fast as she could, breathing heavily as her pleasure increased. Chandra smacked her bottom again, this time with her bare hand.

“I think you're getting a bit too excited, girl,” she said, and unceremoniously pushed Belle away with her foot. Belle turned around to face her Mistress, who stood up, towering over her. Belle sat up on her knees and whined pathetically, in heat and pleading with her Mistress for satisfaction.

“Beg me for it, slut,” ordered Chandra. Belle brought her head down to the tip of Chandra's boot and licked it plaintively, raising her bottom in the air and shaking her hips, making her tail swing.

“That's pretty good, but do you think you should come before your Mistress?” said Chandra.

Belle shook her head.

“I didn't think so.” Chandra slid her thong down between her legs and stepped out of it, revealing the neatly trimmed triangle of dark pubic hair at her crotch. She turned around and put one foot up on the sofa, spreading her legs wide apart.

“You know what do do, pet.”

As Chandra tugged on her leash, Belle climbed onto the bed and faced towards her Mistress, her head about level with Chandra's crotch. The previous games had moistened it considerably, and a wet drop slid down the inside of the Mistress's thigh. Belle stuck her tongue out and vigorously lapped at Chandra's pussy, tasting the wet juices between her legs. She kept her tongue out and wagged her head quickly to head side, like a cat with its prey in its mouth. Chandra choked up on her pet's leash, forcing Belle's face up against her. The eager pet's tongue rubbed harder and herder, pressing against the wet lips between Chandra's legs. She stuck her tongue between them and lapped up the moisture like water, pushing her tongue against the wall of her Mistress's vagina as far as she could.

“Mm, that's a good girl,” Chandra said. She put her free hand on the back of her pet's neck, to keep her steady and close against her. She held Belle's face in place for some time. The Mistress tossed her head back, eyes closed, and licked her lips. Her hips began to buck back and forth. Her bosom heaved up and down, quicker and quicker. Finally her face winced and she bent her head down, sighing heavily and let out several deep, satisfied breaths. Chandra let her pet back down. Belle turned around and wagged her tail again, displaying her wet pussy to her Mistress.

“You think you've earned a reward, don't you, pet?”

Belle nodded and stood up on her knees excitedly.

“Well then, get up on your bed,” her Mistress ordered. Belle's bed, next to her cage, was flat with a dark covering. At each corner were leather restraining cuffs. Belle quickly climbed onto it and faced towards the head of the bed on her hands and knees. Chandra came over and fastened a restraint around each of Belle's wrists, laying the slave's leash to the side. She rubbed the palm of her hand under Belle's tail, feeling the bare skin of the slave's dripping labia.

“Taste yourself, pet,” she commanded, holding her wet hand to Belle's lips. Belle lapped up the moisture from Chandra's palm. Her Mistress reached behind her and stuck a finger into Belle's pussy, wriggling it around inside her vigorously for a moment. Belle squealed with pleasure. Chandra held up the finger to Belle's mouth again, and the pet lapped up her juice from it. The Mistress continued to tease her pet, withholding the release of her climax. She reached under her pet's torso and playfully slapped the girl's breasts, making the nipple bells jingle. She slapped them again and again until Belle let out a yelp.

“Good girl. Now, let's see how badly you want this. Lie flat on your stomach if you want me to stop, and I'll put you in your cage right then. If you want more, wag your tail. If you take it all, you'll get your reward.”

Chandra picked up her cane. She tapped Belle's ass lightly several times, teasing her. She struck her square on her pussy lips and Belle yelped, bucking her hips in pain, but pleasure as well. Chandra tapped Belle's tits with the tip of the cane, jingling her nipple bells again. She put the cane in front of Belle's mouth, who licked it in submissively.

Then Chandra got to work. The first two cane strokes came down on each side of Belle's buttocks, leaving marks. They were not quite hard enough to make the experienced slave girl cry out.

The next one came down onto her thigh, eliciting a small yelp. Belle shook her hips to make her tail wag. Chandra smiled and paced back and forth behind her helpless pet, flexing the cane. She swung from a greater distance with more force the next time, making a red, striped mark on Belle's lower ass cheek and getting another yelp in response. After a pause by her Mistress, Belle swayed her tail again. The next stroke came across both cheeks, leaving a mark that reached all the way across the pet's bottom. Belle whimpered a bit and shook her hips again. Chandra tapped the cane against Belle's pussy once more. The slave girl raised her head, whimpering for release, but Chandra only smiled wickedly at her.

Smack! This time, Amber was startled by the ferocity of the blow and winced. From the wall behind Belle, she could see the vivid red line on the poor girl's ass. Belle squealed, but quickly regained her composure and shook her tail.

Smack! Chandra did not let up. Belle bounced on the bed a little to channel the sharp, stinging pain. She looked behind her to her Mistress with pleading eyes and swayed her hips again.

SMACK! This was the hardest one yet. Belle made a low growling noise in her throat and took a long, deep breath, panting heavily. A deep welt formed diagonally on her exposed bottom. Despite her obvious pain this time, she shook her hips in compliance once again.

SMACK! SMACK! Chandra swung the cane viciously against Belle's left thigh, then her right, leaving welts halfway around. Belle lowered her head and whimpered pathetically; she could not really scream with her damaged voice. She gave a shudder from her shoulders downward. Amber wanted to yell please stop it you're hurting her but didn't, for fear of angering Chandra. Belle stoically kept her bottom end raised in the air, refusing to take the out her Mistress had given her. She was too desperate for sexual release back down.

“That's a brave girl,” said Chandra. “I think you've finally earned your reward.” Belle wagged her hips eagerly in response. Her Mistress picked up another device from the shelf, something Amber hadn't seen before. It was a phallus attached to several leather straps; Amber thought such a thing was terribly lewd.

Chandra strapped the device around her waist and under her legs. The long phallus stuck out from her pelvis provocatively. She took some oil and smeared it all over the shaft for lubrication, although belle's labia was already dripping wet and swelled noticeably. Chandra knelt down behind her pet slave and pulled the girl's thighs apart further. She wasted no time teasing her now. She plunged the strapon into her slave's vagina and moved her hips back and forth with great force. Belle bucked her hips in response. She panted desperately, eyes shut tight as her climax welled up inside her. Chandra fucked her with animal vigor. Chandra impaled her slave mercilessly, pounding the dildo into her helpless pussy with urgent force from start to finish.

Belle raised her head up and howled; or at least she howled as much as she could in her weak voice. Chandra took the girl by her ponytails, raising Belle's head back, and bucked her hips wildly, practically slamming the phallus into Belle's groin over and over. Belle's tits swayed wildly, her bells ringing incessantly. Her body glistened with sweat. The two women's thighs pounded together audibly. Belle panted and panted until she cried out as loud as her voice permitted her, and her breathing settled into a a series of quick, sharp exhales.

Chandra moved the phallus back and forth a few more times and massaged Belle's shoulders. She got up off the bed and unbound the heaving, sweaty slave girl's wrists.

“You left a wet spot, pet,” she said, pointing to a small pool where Belle's own juices had run down. Belle licked up the spot. Chandra took her by the leash, leading her to her cage, and the pet slave crawled inside unsteadily. The were numerous cushions and a blanket inside, and enough room for Belle to lie down comfortably. The cage was just high enough for Belle to stand up on her knees in, which was as high as she could stand anyway. After the quivering girl was inside Chandra unclipped her lead, hung it on the wall and locked the cage door. She put her strapon aside as well. Belle curled up on her side, exhausted from her exertions. Chandra wiped down the bed with a cloth.

Chandra turned to Amber. “Did you enjoy our show?”

“Um, yes Mistress.” Amber was petrified. She felt as helpless now as she ever had in her life.

“I'm so glad you did. Do you know I once fucked her ten times over a single day? She was rather sore, but came every single time.”

She ran her hands all over Amber's body, tracing the curve of the slave's hips and legs. She fingered Amber's sex, which betrayed a hint of excitement as it gradually moistened, her fear notwithstanding. Chandra took each of Amber's breasts in her hands and pinched her nipples harder and harder until she elicited a moan from her helpless captive.

“I don't often get girls as sweet as you in here,” she said. “I can show you some things my sister hasn't quite mastered yet.”

Se unlocked the blonde's wrists and led her to the bed. She laid Amber down on her back and secured her wrists and ankles to the four corners. Amber lay spread eagled and totally exposed. Chandra took a warm, furry cloth and moved it over Amber's chest. It was one of the softest and thickest fabrics Amber had ever felt.

“Mm, thank you, Mistress.”

“I like to give my slaves different sensations,” Chandra said. “I love to to see their faces. You have a very expressive face, dear.” She moved the fur over Amber's breasts and down between her spread legs. Amber closed her eyes.

“Now, let's see how your lovely face expresses this,” she said, putting down the cloth and taking a red candle from her desk. The candle had been burning for a good half hour, and a pool of melted wax had collected around the wick. Amber eyed it nervously; this woman couldn't mean to burn her, could she? Chandra tilted the candle and let a drop of molten wax spill onto Amber's stomach.

“Ow,” the slave cried, startled and pained. It was a kind of sharp sting followed by a low, lingering burning sensation. “Ow—ow—ow—ow...” Chandra only laughed at her.

“I've tried worse than this on myself before,” she chided the bound slave. “This one isn't even that hot. Let's get you used to it, shall we?” Amber noted that what she and Chandra considered to be painful were probably two different things.

The Mistress spilled a series of a few drops from Amber's belly to her upper chest.

“Ahhhh...ow......ow...” After a little while, thankfully, the wax seemed to cool off where it touched her skin. She still had to deal with the initial burning, however. Amber winced and tried to press her head against her outstretched upper arm.

Chandra poured several drops on each of her lovely victim's breasts. This was the worst so far.

“Ooohhh...nnhh...nnnhh...” Amber gritted her teeth and breathed quickly. Small but painful fires seared her breasts before settling to a slow burn. Amber knew that Mistresses could not permanently damage their slaves—the Matron inspected her weekly to make sure she was well looked after. She clung to that knowledge now.

More wax spilled onto her, this time on her thighs, dripping a little ways to the inside of her leg. Amber barely had time to absorb that shock when more drops began spilling on and between her toes. That skin was particularly sensitive, and Amber let out a small, plaintive wail, trying to block out the pain. Chandra didn't give the spill much time to cool before she dribbled more onto Amber's other foot. The helpless slave girl quickened her breathing, and her eyes watered. Chandra sighed at her.

“You've got to toughen up, dear, if you want to please your Mistress,” she chided. She picked up one of the many riding crops used for the Matron's twin slaves, whom Chandra helped train as ponygirls. She tapped Amber over and over with it, lightly for the most part, on her torso, breasts and thighs, occasionally raising it higher to give the slave a good sting. As she used the crop, she continued to let drops fall onto Amber's pale skin. The slave girl feared the hot wax more than the crop's sting.

“Nnnhh......ouch!......mmmh!” Amber reacted to the various sharp burns and stings the Mistress inflicted on her.

Chandra used the crop on Amber's feet, smacking her soles with appreciable force.

“Ouch!” The sting on her foot reverberated through her body, as though her foot was too small to contain the momentary pain. Chandra smacked the ball of her foot again.

“Ouch!” Amber moaned for her poor feet. Chandra tapped the crop on her legs, moving up and down her body. She gave each of the slave's breasts a good smack one last time before making Amber kiss the crop and setting it aside. She then got onto the bed herself, her knees on each side of Scarlet's waist, facing the chained blonde. She unzipped her corset about halfway, exposing her milky white breasts. She lowered her bosom to Amber's lips.

“Taste me, slave,” she ordered.

Amber took the ripe breast in her mouth, rolling her tongue over the pointed nipple. She was accustomed to her Mistress Keira's smaller, perkier bosom; Chandra's breasts were fuller and rounder. Chandra massaged her left nipple while Amber sucked the right one.

“Good girl,” said Chandra, who then reached and picked a long phallus off the table nearby. She put it to Amber's lips, who then sucked on it without needing to be told. When it was good and moist, Chandra turn to face Amber's feet and backed up a little until her crotch filled Amber 's view.

“My pussy needs attention, slave,” she said.

Amber obediently put her tongue to Chandra's wet pussy lips, tasting each fold and crevice in an effort to please her. She pried at Chandra's clit with her lips, pulling the folds of her labia into her mouth.

“Mmm, good girl,” said Chandra. She bent down to Amber's own crotch, which was increasingly moist, and let a little saliva dribble to Amber's vaginal opening, spreading the moisture around with her hand. She thrust the solid shaft of the dildo into the soft pink folds of Amber's pussy, pushing it in and out again and again. Amber greedily licked the Mistress's sex, putting her whole mouth around the lips of Chandra's crotch and pushing her tongue inside her as far as it would go. As Chandra thrust harder and harder into the blonde slave, Amber's tongued moved powerfully against her Mistress's wet walls. Drops of moisture dribbled down Amber's cheek and she moaned in pleasure.

Eventually Chandra stopped, postponing Amber's sexual release.

“You want me to finish with you, dear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Say exactly what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me so I can come, Mistress.” She still had trouble with those words but Amber found she had no real use for shame at this moment.

“If you can restrain yourself until I give you permission, I'll make it worth your while; if you come without my permission, you'll be punished severely. Is that understood?”

Amber nodded.

Chandra dismounted her and picked up the candle again. Amber winced.

“You're good with that tongue, slave. Stick your tongue out for me and I'll consider your request.”

Fearfully Amber opened her mouth and stretched out her tongue. Chandra let fall a single drop that stung worse than the hottest spice Amber had ever tasted. Her eyes watered and she instinctively tried to spit out the wax. Chandra laughed at her.

“You have to let it dry, first, dear,” she said. The wax cooled enough for Amber to spit it out.

“Your tongue again, slave,” ordered Chandra. Closing her eyes and bracing for more, Amber stuck her tongue back out. Several drops fell, and she let out a cry from the back of her throat. A few tears spilled down her cheeks. With panted breaths she waited until she could rub her tongue against her teeth to get the wax off. Chandra took the dildo and rubbed it against her swelling pussy lips, teasing her.

“Please let me come, Mistress,” Amber begged.

“We'll see, dear.” Amber didn't know, but Chandra was known to bring slave girl to the very brink of orgasm and tease them for long hours, sometimes letting them spent a whole night in heat with no way to satisfy themselves.

The Mistress rubbed the tip of the dildo against Amber's clitoris, pushing it inside her just a little, but no further. With a wicked grin she went to a hook on the wall and picked up a flogger. Walking back to the helpless Amber, she held the ends of the flogger in one hand and the handle on the other. Stretching the ends to build tension, she then snapped it across Amber's stomach. The slave girl gave a sharp yelp. Chandra continued to snap the many small whips across the bound girl's body, focusing on her breasts and upper thighs in particular. Once in a while she struck Amber's sex directly, eliciting a sharp cry of pain and pleasure each time. She would pause to tease Amber, bringing her a little further along the way to a climax, but only enough to make her want more.

When Chandra finished with the flogger, she put it back on its resting place on the shelf. She walked to her desk drawer and pulled out a small length of chain, with what looked like pincers connected to each end. At the base of each pincer was a small ring. She sat down next to Amber, running her hand through the slave's vibrant gold hair, and brushed her cheek.

“A little surprise for you, dear,” she said with a smile. She took the young woman's right nipple between her fingers, rubbing it gently, until it stiffened tangibly. Chandra placed the pincers around the jutting nipple, and slid the ring up towards the ends, tightening the small metal grip around Amber's flesh. She went slowly, and Amber could feel the vice around her poor nipple getting tighter and tighter until she winced. Just as she thought she would cry out, Chandra eased up a little and left the clamp in place, and then proceeded to put the pincer at the other end of the chain around the slave's left nipple.

When she finished Amber felt an uncomfortable pressure at the tips of her breasts, pulsing small jolts of pain with each heartbeat. Chandra fondled Amber's sex again with her right hand and took the chain of the clamps in her left. She pulled them up, slowly at first, tugging harder and higher. Amber moaned as conflicting sensations raced through the most tender parts of her body. Her hips bucked involuntarily as Chandra moved her fingers into her, and the warm sensual feeling between her legs mixed with the sharp pain that screamed from her poor nipples. Beads of sweat appeared on Amber's forehead and she bit her lip. Chandra let the chain down and slapped each of her breasts, sending another sharp stream of pain through her.

Chandra pushed three fingers provocatively into Amber's sex now, daring the slave to climax. Amber sighed deeply, high thigh muscles tensed, as waves of pleasure washed through her. But she managed to keep in control and held herself in check.

“Good girl,” said Chandra. “I think it's time our friend played with you.”

She went back to Belle's cage. The blonde pet had rested a bit. Chandra opened her cage and led Belle out, her finger in the front ring of the pet slave's collar. She took Belle to the foot of the bed and she climbed up, her knees between Amber's outstretched legs, facing the beautiful bound slave. Chandra picked up the phallus and offered it to Belle, who licked up and down the shaft before taking it awkwardly in her mittened hands.

“Would you like to lick Amber's pussy, dear, hmm?” she asked. Belle nodded and smiled through her ring gag. “Go ahead, pet.” Bell stuck her tongue out past the leather ring that held her mouth open and lowered her head onto Amber's sex. She used one hand to hold herself steady and with the other she put the shaft of the dildo into her own. Amber's breathing quickened and intensified, as the warm little tongue sent a tingling feeling down her legs. Belle kept her tongue out and moved her head around, going from Amber's clit to the inside of her sex. The insatiable tongue made Amber's whole body glow warmly and her cheeks flush with pleasure. The feeling was almost too much for her and she strained instinctively against her restraints.

“And now you can finish what you started with her own tongue, dear,” said Chandra as she moved her leg across the bed and sat towering over Amber, facing Belle at her feet. The submissive slave nodded and Chandra lowered her waist over her Amber's mouth. Amber worked her tongue over Chandra's moist labia, tasting her sweet juices. Her whole body was a conduit of pleasurable feelings; the smell of sweat and sex overwhelmed her other senses. There was a swelling deep inside her pelvis, growing until it spread through her legs to the tip of her pinched nipples. She tilted her head back and exhaled sharply again and again until the feeling subsided and she had regained her senses a bit. She continued to attend the Mistress's pussy. Chandra closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then she took Belle's head in her hands and kissed her pet on the lips. She bent over and took the phallus from Belle, and rubbed it vigorously against Amber's clit. Belle's breasts heaved and jingled. Finally Chandra tossed her head back and let out a satisfied moan. Belle came soon after.

It took some time for Amber to wash off the dry wax, sweat and other fluids from her body and make herself presentable fro her Mistress. Back home she did what sweeping she could, hoping it would be enough for Keira. Her Mistress returned, tired from her archery and sword practice that day. Amber undressed her owner and gave her a bath, rubbing soap on her and rinsing the woman's body thoroughly—Amber paid particular attention to Keira's breasts and sex, which her Mistress appreciated. When she was done, Keira dried herself while Amber fixed the Amazon's hair. The Mistress lay face down on her bed while Amber massaged her, something the blonde was particularly good at. She rubbed a scented oil onto Keira's back.

“Mm, I don't know how I got by without you, Amber,” said her Mistress. “I know mother says I spoil you, but I think I'm lucky to have you. Just don't tell her I said that.”

“That's very kind, Mistress,” said Amber sincerely. She bent down and kissed Keira's neck, and planted a series of kisses down her back. It was good to be with her own Mistress again, who did not put her through quite so much pain, but Amber began to think. Wouldn't it be more exciting if Keira hurt her just a little bit more? The session she had in Chandra's chamber was unlike anything she had experienced before. Even the painful moments seemed to make her moist as she recalled them. And she knew she could endure it; it wasn't as though Chandra's session had been some unbearable torture. Amber sat next to her Mistress while she ate; Keira generously let her slave sip a little wine from her chalice.

“Have you ever used the wax from a burning candle on a slave before, Mistress?” Amber asked during dinner.

“Hmm? You trying to give me ideas, pet?”

“I was just thinking, Mistress,” said Amber with a sheepish smile.

Keira decided Amber probably didn't need a training session that evening. Instead she took Amber straight to bed and languidly made love to her. They moaned together in pleasure for a good part of the night. Secretly, Amber imagined being bound up in Chandra's playroom as the flogger licked her skin over and over, and the thought made her moist again.

* * * *

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.

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Chapter 8: Submission

Amber ran through the so-called Bleeding Woods as fast as she could, always fearful, knowing Keira was somewhere out there, chasing her. It felt like she had been running for hours, though it hadn't been nearly that long. The sun was approaching its peak. She was tired and sweating, and stopped by a stream to get a drink. She knelt down, let the breeze cool her bare skin, and scooped up some water in her hand. She realized she was completely lost now. If Keira didn't find her first, she might starve. Amber sighed. The Amazon was right—she was no good on her own. She wouldn't last two days out here.

Suddenly, she heard something behind her. She inclined her head a little when suddenly a strong arm clinched her waist. Amber screamed and squirmed out of fright, and a hand covered her mouth. The blonde beauty went limp and offered no further resistance. The hand came off her mouth and went to her shoulder, to steady the frightened slave girl. Amber recognized it was Keira and sighed in relief.

“I'm sorry, Mistress, you frightened me,” she said, still quivering a little.

Keira laughed. “You made so much noise I could have tracked you down on a moonless night,” she chided.

“Are you angry with me, Mistress? I tried hard; really I did.”

“Well, let's just say this exercise doesn't bring out your best talents,” said Keira. “Besides, I know this ground well; I figured you would follow the stream downhill.”

“I'm sorry, Mistress,” said Amber, knowing she was supposed to provide better sport for Keira. More than anything, though, she was just glad this was over.

Her Mistress reached behind her back and and took something else out of the knapsack she carried over her shoulder. It looked like a phallus but it was short and wide, and there was a long tail of yellowish hair attached to one end.

“I tried to find one that matched your hair,” said Keira. “Assume the position, and I'll try it on you.”

Amber was remembered the slave position that had been drilled into her, and got on her hands and knees, forehead touching the ground, and raised her hindquarters in the air. She detested displaying her ass like this but she was not about to complain to Keira. She saw her Mistress rub oil on the phallus-like thing with the tail and realized it was intended to go inside of her. She gulped, and shut her eyes tight as Keira pushed the plug into her anus, stretching it at first, until it fit in snugly and Amber had a tail flowing from her bottom.

“There, isn't that pretty?” said Keira. Amber whimpered softly and said nothing.

“Kneel,” said the Amazon and Amber rose to her knees. Keira put a kind of gag over Amber's mouth; it was a long piece of thick leather that went across her lips and between her teeth. Keira buckled the straps behind her slave girl's neck. At the corners of Amber's lips, at her cheeks, were rings from which a pair of leather straps ran to Keira's wrist, like reins. The Amazon put a finger under Amber's chin and lifted her head, smiling.

“You're a lovely fox,” she said slyly. “I've caught you now, and you're going to walk on your hands and feet for me, like a pretty little fox.”

Amber moaned, but Keira gave the blonde slave a sharp smack on the bottom, and she obeyed. On her hands and knees, Amber walked in front of her Mistress, while Keira held the reins of her gag and spanked her when she slackened her pace. Inwardly Amber protested, but she made no sound as Keira led her back up the trail to where they had started. Amber was very tired when they got back to the Amazon settlement called Timberwood.

At the top of a clear hill several Amazons and a few men were enjoying food and celebrating. This was a festive day for them; they seemed to have a lot of those. There were a number of cages, large enough for a person to kneel down in. Keira brought Amber to one of them and put her inside, fastening her hands together behind her locking the cage door. Most of the others were empty; Amber had been one of the first girls to be caught. Other Amazons were out there still hunting down their own slaves. Even after an hour's head start some had already been brought back. Keira left her there and went over to the feast.

Amber sat up, knees against her chest, hands restrained behind her, her back against the cold metal bars. It was as comfortable as she could get with the tail plug still in her. How long would she have to stay here, she wondered? She was hungry, and the food looked good. As she sat in her cage, feeling pity for herself, a pair of hands, encased in leather mittens, reached through the bars behind her and hugged her.

A weak voice behind her said “Surprise.” Amber laughed and turned her head. Well, it's good to see you, at least, she thought. Now she knew how Belle felt, hardly able to speak.

Belle smiled. Then the pet slave stuck out her tongue and licked Amber's cheek vigorously.

“Mmmm--mmm,” laughed Amber, trying to wipe her cheek off with her shoulder. She motioned with her head, as best she could, for Belle to go away. Belle looked at her with sad eyes.

Amber nodded at her again. The younger slave girl crawled away on her hands and knees, tail waving behind her in the breeze. The bells attached to her breasts and labia jingled merrily. Amber envied the girl, in a way; all she ever really had to do was role play for Chandra. In the distance she saw Belle wandering around, rubbing up against people, and occasionally chasing balls around the hill. If someone liked her performance they would toss her bits of food that she caught in her mouth or perhaps rub her bare pussy. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Amber began to resent Keira for leaving her here, although she was not the only slave caged like this. Every other girl who was caught and brought back was in the same situation.

“Feeling sad, dear?” came a friendly voice. Amber looked up. It was Claire, the older woman who belonged to Keira's younger sister. She hadn't been one of the girls to be hunted that day; she served food to the Amazons instead. She knelt down by Amber's cage and reached inside, stroking the despondent slave's golden hair.

Amber nodded. She looked despondent, and lowered her eyes.

Claire only laughed. “Just relax and let go,” she said. “Stop trying so hard.”

Amber looked at her questioningly.

“I mean stop struggling with yourself,” said Claire. “Then everything becomes easy. You see Natalie over there?”

Amber nodded. Natalie was in a cage, like Amber.

“She loves being punished. That's why she's always getting into trouble, and that way she knows her sister cares about her. She's never sad.”

Amber thought about what Chandra had told her before, that Amber herself was aroused by punishments. She had never intentionally brought one on herself, however; it was not her nature. She craved approval instead.

Amber wasn't sure she understood, but nodded anyway.

“Here, take this,” said Claire. She held out a handful of spiced bread to Amber, who took it gratefully in her mouth.

Amber tried to smile through the gag.

“Not at all,” said her fellow slave. “I hate to see you go hungry,” said Claire. “I was never told I couldn't feed you, anyway. I'll see if there's anything else I can get you.”

Claire was able to sneak her a bit more food to sate her hunger during the next couple of hours. Just when Amber thought she would never get out, she saw yet another young woman crawling toward her. It was Natalie.

“Hello, pretty one,” the slave girl greeted her. Natalie reached behind Amber's neck and unbuckled the straps behind her gag.

“Did your Mistress let you out?” asked Amber as soon as she could speak again.

“Not yet. But I wear a hairpin, so I used it to picked the lock.”

“If you get caught...” said Amber.

“Oh, they're too busy having fun,” said the shorter haired girl with a mischievous look. “See?” she gestured over to the other side of the hill, where the free men and women were making merry. None seemed to notice them. “I just want to stretch out a bit, that's all. Want me to show you how to open this?” She pointed to the lock on Amber's cage.

“I don't want to get into any trouble,” said Amber.

“You won't,” Natalie assured her. “You see every lock has a number of tumblers that have to raised at the same time...” She went on for a while, and Amber thought she understood, though she was not bold enough to try it herself. Natalie seemed to have an innate sense of danger and put Amber's gag back on her in case anyone saw them. She went back to her own cage soon afterwards. A little later Keira came and opened Amber's cage, taking her to a table lined with food. Naomi, Natalie's sister and owner, came for her as well, never knowing her slave had been out already.

Keira sat at the table with Amber kneeling on the soft ground beside her. The blonde slave was relieved to finally be let out of the cage. Keira removed the gag and fed Amber by hand, and the slave girl rested her head on Keira's lap. The Amazon stroked her affectionately. At times like these, Amber thought, she really liked being with her Mistress. All the other slave girls had been brought back from the chase by now and were eating or serving their Mistresses. Some were part of the entertainment. Amber saw some tables had been cleared. On one, the twin slaves Amanda and Jessica were making passionate love together, cheered on by the crowd. The Matron, their owner, looked on impassively. Another nude girl was dancing in front of a crowd of gathered onlookers. Her Mistress encouraged her with a riding whip that she snapped at the girl's feet.

“This is nothing,” said Keira to her slave. “A few days from now we'll have a real festival, for the Summer Solstice, that will go on all night. I might have you provide us some entertainment, if I can get you ready by then.”

Amber gulped. She very much did not want to perform anything before a crowd of drunken Amazons.

“How many festivals do you celebrate in a year, Mistress?” Amber asked.

“Oh dozens. The Solstices are the major ones, but we also make merry during full moons, new moons, birthdays, anniversaries, and then there's the day-after holidays, when we make relax to pass the time while our hangovers fade. I'll have lots of chances to show you off,” Keira said smiling to Amber. “Won't that be fun?”

“Um...yes, Mistress,” was all Amber could say.

* * * *

Later that night Amber was remembering what Chandra had told her about herself, about how pain seemed to arouse her, and she also thought of what Claire had told her about “letting go.” It wasn't easy; Amber had asked for more discipline before and now she got it. Keira had grown tired of her slave's complaining that evening (“Can't we just make love, Mistress?”) and gagged her with a leather bit fastened around her neck and caned her bare bottom before even starting. Amber's tearful eyes pleaded for forgiveness now, but she would not be able to speak until Keira was finished with her.

She lay flat on her stomach on a low bench upholstered with leather, her wrists and ankles shackled to rings on the floor by cuffs she always wore. Her Mistress stood over now, riding crop in one hand, circling her bound slave with a predatory look in her eye. She ran her fingers over Amber's back, sending a shiver down the girl's spine. Keira was naked except for her leather thong and a halter top, displaying her highly toned body to Amber. Since the first time Keira had bound her, Amber had felt a strong attraction to her Mistress. The tension she felt when Keira lorded over her—when Amber was helpless before her—invariably made her most intimate region start to moisten and her heart beat faster. She watched the way her Mistress moved, her hips swaying confidently, her expression one of calm assurance, and admired her. Next to Keira Amber felt awkward and vulnerable.

Keira moved her hands over her prize slave's body, feeling her hips, legs and hindquarters. She traced the middle of her shaved nether lips, teasing more moisture out of them. She fingered Amber's clit ever so gently; in her mind Amber screamed for her Mistress to push her fingers in. But there was no such satisfaction for Amber yet. Keira took her cane and bent it back, sending it into the pale round flesh of Amber's bottom, leaving a faint red stripe. A mild but insistent sting made Amber flinch and her bottom began to throb. Immediately after, Keira fondled her slave's eager sex again, putting her finger just between the round lips and moving it up and down. After a moment the Mistress withdrew her finger and paced behind Amber, choosing the next place to strike.

There was a whoosh and Amber's other fleshy cheek was marked with a similar stripe. As Keira walked around her, she put her finger into Amber's pussy and wiggled it around for just a moment. She then struck Amber's lower back sharply with her cane, and the bound blonde grunted. Keira ran her hand over the girl's white, creamy buttocks, grabbing at her plump flesh and moving her hand closer and closer to her pussy, stopping just short.

Crack! “Mmmph!” The gag muted Amber's cry as the cane struck her shoulder. The pain dulled soon but lingered, like the resonance of a pulled string. This was followed by a finger in her pussy again, soon withdrawn. Keira paced and swung the cane around in the air a few times, making Amber flinch; she was surprised when it finally did land across her bottom with a sharp Smack! That made her groan. A single red line went from one bottom cheek to the next. Amber felt the cane at the tip of her sex now, poking inside her tender skin. Keira reached over and took her slave's clit between her fingers, rubbing gently. Amber's skin warmed from the waist down. Her nipples began to to stiffen.

Crack! The cane struck just below her waist, hitting the thin skin above her tail bone. The pain reverberated across her back and she groaned again. Keira reached around Amber's body and cupped her pert round breast, moving the nipple around with her thumb. Amber turned her head towards her Mistress, begging her with pitiful eyes, but Keira paid no heed and went back to pacing around the floor. A sudden whoosh made Amber flinch just before a sharp, biting pain struck her thighs. She cringed against her ankle restraints reflexively and kept her scream in check, hoping Keira would be pleased to see her stoicism. Keira bent down and placed two hands between Amber's bottom cheeks, opening the wet lips of her pussy with her thumbs. She inhaled the girl's scent and blew a stream of cold air between her slave's pussy lips and over her clit, sending goosebumps up the girl's spine. She put two fingers in the girl's sex and moved them rhythmically back and forth, quickening the movement as Amber's breathing quickened. Just as her labia became noticeably wetter, Keira stopped and stood up, cane in hand again.

Just as Amber was trying to savor the fleeting pleasure emanating from between her legs she felt the bite of the cane on her bare back. It was a harsh, unsparing blow and she moaned sharply, her eyes watering. Keira went to a chest she kept against a wall in her room and took a pair of objects out. Amber could see it was a large, polished wooden phallus and a black leather flogger. Amber's eyes widened. She longed for more satisfaction; her sex ached for the feel of the hard shaft inside of her. Keira began to whip her up and down the body with the flogger. The blows were delivered in quick succession, not especially hard but enough to sting. As Amber felt the cruel tips of the flogger take small bites of her exposed skin the phallus was pushed inside her. She inhaled deeply. The rod was almost too big for her, and she squealed pitifully. It rubbed against the walls of her groin uncomfortably at first, then went in a little easier as it was lubricated by her wetness. Slowly, her Mistress moved it back and forth inside her, sending a wave of pleasure each time it went in further.

“Mmmph, mmm...mmph...” was as much as Amber could articulate her thoughts on the matter. Her chest heaved in and out, beads of sweat glistening in the room's soft lamplight, her Mistress standing calmly over her, administering Amber's pleasure and pain with a calm, detached grace. The flogger swooshed softly and made a satisfying thwack on the girl's skin.

“Mmmmmmph...” Amber drooled over her gag when the phallus came in harder, the wave of pleasure rising to a crest. But the flogger was striking her now with greater force. Keira's blows were more deliberate and came just a tad slower now, but landed with greater ferocity. The little whips bit into her, and she raised her head and winced each time they struck her skin. Her senses were in a frenzy, as intense sensations crowded her brain and mixed together in a blur.

“Thwack!” Keira struck her bottom viciously, and Amber let out a low scream from the back of her throat, stifled by the gag. The phallus continued its work on her. Her frantic breathing resumed immediately after the strangled cry.

“Thwack!” Tears flowed freely down Amber's cheeks and she winced in pain. Her shoulders ached where the flogger had struck her. But as bad as it was, the warm pleasure inside her was greater. The pain released her body's endorphins and made the ecstasy greater.

“Thwack!” Another strangled cry from Amber, followed by pitiful whimpering. She tensed her muscles and waited for another blow, but it never came, Keira rubbed her clit as she pushed on the phallus. Amber laid her cheek down on the bench and closed her eyes again, her moans carried on quick, deep breaths. It was coming now, closer...closer...Abruptly, just as she felt herself building toward a blissful climax, Keira pulled the dildo out of her.

“My my, you're covered in sweat, girl,” said Keira, running a hand over Amber's back. “I must have been doing something right.” She bent to Amber's ankles and detached the cuffs from the ring on the floor, then did the same to her wrists. Amber always wore her the cuffs, and Keira could attach them to any of the rings on the walls, floor or bed when her slave needed to be punished or trained, or simply for the Amazon's own amusement. One such place was a tall stand made of wooden beams that rested against the wall. The beams were crossed together at an angle, making a slim X shape that was bent back at an angle. There were rings for attaching the slave girl's cuffs at the extreme end of each beam, four in all. A few short boards were placed on the middle and padded to give her better support when she leaned against it.

Amber did not like the wooden apparatus. Unpleasant things happened to her when she was bound to it; when she was on it she preferred to be somewhere else. But that was where Keira now led her after she rose from the bench. The Amazon put Amber's back to the X shaped beams and ordered her to assume her customary position. Amber obediently spread her legs out against the lower boards and raised her arms against the upper ones. Keira locked each of her cuffs in place. She placed her hand between Amber's legs and on her exposed, vulnerable sex.

“You're very wet, little one. You're not going to come before I give you permission, are you?”

Amber shook her head, desperately hoping she could control herself and not earn another punishment tonight. But she was so close. How could Keira torment her like this? The Amazon went back to her chest, and pulled out a pair of nipple clamps. Amber watched in fear as the ends of each chain were closed tightly around her erect nipples. She winced as they were locked around her vulnerable buds. Keira then took out something else, a length of small chain similar to the ones that now tormented Amber's breasts. Amber wondered what her Mistress was going to do with another pair of clamps; these looked different. They had wide pincers on each end. Keira bent down to Amber's crotch. The young slave realized what they were for and whimpered pathetically. Keira took the fold of Amber's wet labia and put a pincer round it, squeezing the sensitive skin in a metal vise. She did the same with the other pincer. Amber moaned softly as constant, unyielding pressure was applied to the lips of her pussy.

“Still eager, pet?” asked Keira a she traced her fingers around Amber's labia. Her poor slave nodded, tantalized by the promise of sexual release. Keira once again went to her chest and took out a handful of what looked like coins with holes in their center. There were tiny hooks tied around each hole. Keira brought them over to the helpless slave girl and placed one of hooked coins onto the lowest point of Amber's nipple chain. Whatever the thing was it was heavy for its size, as though made of led, and it pulled on Amber's poor nipples. The slave girl squealed pitifully and heaved her chest, trying somehow to ease the continuous torment. The little weight sagged her chain down and stretched her nipples with it. Keira put another weight on the chain between Amber's legs, stretching her labia. Amber winced and silently hoped that there was special place in hell for the person who first thought of the strange devices in her Mistress's chest. She had tried to be obedient, really she had; why wouldn't Keira just let her have her orgasm?

Amber's thigh muscles tensed and quivered. Keira stepped back to appraise her handiwork. Amber looked up at her Mistress longingly, pleading with her eyes. Keira stepped towards her and stroked her head softly, running her finger's through the slave's honey-golden hair.

“I'll let you come, but you have to show your obedience first,” she said.

Amber nodded eagerly, trying to take her mind away from the clamps pulling on the most tender areas of her body.

“I'm going to put some more weight on you. I want you to hold it for a little while. Understand?”

Amber's face fell, but she nodded. Keira placed another weight on the slave's nipple chain. Amber whimpered softly, trying to hold back. Another weight was placed between her legs and raised up her head , eyes closed tightly. A low, guttural moan escaped from her throat. Keira stepped back again.

“Hold on just a little longer, dear.”

Amber's face contorted under the constant pressure. It felt like someone was squeezing her private parts cruelly and would not let go. How much longer would this go on? Half a minute or so passed that seemed like an eternity. Small tears welled up in the corner of Amber's yes. The pain was not horrendous but it was unrelenting, never fading or dulling. Her nipples throbbed in pain, as did her nether lips. Keira picked up her riding crop and tapped its square, flat end against Amber's pussy. The hard leather touched her clit and rubbed back and forth just inside her. Amber felt the familiar tingle of pleasure, and would have begged for more if she could have.

“All right, you've held on long enough.”

Keira stepped closer to her and put the handle of the crop up into her slave's tormented pussy. She moved it up and down a few times and that was enough for Amber. A violent spasm rocked her body. It was the most intense orgasm she had ever felt. It was a savage shock that combined the pleasure and the pain that wracked her body, overwhelming everything else. She bucked her hips as much as she could and let out a muffled cry, followed by a series of moans as she settled back against the boards behind her. Keira mercifully removed the weights from her chains. Amber gave a sharp cry when she took the clamps off the poor slave's nipples and labia. There was a final sharp pain as they were removed and the blood rushed back, but after an agonizing moment the pain began to fade. Keira put the implements away and removed Amber's gag. She held the crop's handle to her slave's lips, and Amber kissed it.

Keira cradled Amber and stroked her hair affectionately.

“There there, little one,” she said. She took Amber's head in her hands, and spoke softly to her. “When you were feeling pain, didn't that make your release even greater?”

“Yes Mistress,” the slave replied humbly. It was true. The sensations she were unlike anything else she had ever experienced. She was calm now, aware of the sweat covering her body, comforted by her Mistress's embrace.

“I'll release you now, sweet. Clean yourself off and wait on the bed. I'm going to finish some things downstairs, and I'll come back up for you right after.”

Amber lay on the suspended hammock, luxuriating in the soft fur matting. The pains of her nipples and labia had subsided, and the welts on her skin no longer ached. Keira had been right; the pain had indeed given her greater pleasure in the end. Deep inside she felt terribly excited by the power Keira wielded over her, and as much as she thought she hated the punishments, they also made her wet when she thought about them. It was better to be punished by Keira than to be ignored by her, she thought.

I can't resist her, thought Amber. I don't want to. Whatever Keira wanted her to do, at any time, Amber realized would do it willingly, and the thought made her both fearful and excited. Suddenly, Amber decided to stop rebelling inside. In doing so she felt a burden lift—it was, paradoxically, a liberating thought. There was no more fear or tension. She was free because liked what she was now. Why shouldn't she? The pain was worth it if it led to such ecstasy. There was nothing else to it, she thought.

Keira entered the room again, smiling at her reclining slave.

Amber was staring at the ceiling, her thoughts clearly someplace else. She had the sweetest smile on her face.

“Dreaming of something, my pet?” asked Keira.

“Nothing, Mistress,” answered the beautiful blonde. “Just that I'm your slave.”

“Oh?” laughed Keira. “And this is a new realization for you, I suppose?”

“I mean,” said Amber, “If you released me, and told me I had to go, I wouldn't want to. So I'd still be your slave, even if I wasn't. Am I making sense, Mistress?”

“For the first time yes,” said Keira. “You're becoming more civilized.”

Keira removed the leather jerkin she customarily wore and her undershirt with it.

“Now, how does a good slave girl show gratitude towards her Mistress, hmm?” she asked.

Amber eagerly got down from the hammock and crawled on all fours a short distance to Keira. She kissed the Amazon's feet subserviently. Keira knelt and swatted Amber's bottom several times. Amber quickly became wet again. Keira stood her up and guided the blonde's mouth to her breast, and Amber suckled greedily. She no longer felt humiliation in any of this. Keira led her young slave back to the hammock, and Amber climbed on eagerly. Keira stripped down completely and went to her shelf.

She took a strapon and fastened it around her waist and legs. Amber thought she could feel herself becoming wetter. Keira walked up to the hammock and Amber took the phallus in her mouth, sucking on it eagerly as Keira held her head. The Amazon reached down between Amber's legs, fondling the lips of her pussy, feeling the moisture that had already gathered. Eventually Keira climbed on top of her slave and, as a reward for her endurance that evening, allowed Amber to have her hands free while they made love. Afterwards, Amber lay on her Mistress, head between Keira's breasts, the phallus still inside her. She thought she had never felt so peaceful before.

The next morning, after Amber had served her Mistress breakfast, a visitor came and spoke to Keira outside briefly. Amber was cleaning the lower room and couldn't hear what was said. Keira came back inside and gathered her hunting gear, then sat and watched Amber for a few moments. When Amber finished she looked at her Mistress, who was still staring at her thoughtfully.

“Pet, I need you to go to the Matron's house,” said Keira “She wants to speak to you. Tell her that my answer to her request is yes.”

“What is it, Mistress?” asked Amber.

“I told you everything you need to know,” Keira. “And remember, I might tolerate unnecessary questions from you sometimes, but my mother won't. I have to leave now, so you'll need to find your own way. Can you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

There was a pit in Amber's stomach as she crossed the village square. She was not eager to see the stern Matron; few slaves ever were. The Matron inspected her every week to make sure she was healthy and cared for; usually those visits consisted of Sheila criticizing her posture. She wondered why the head of the Amazon tribe wanted to see her, except that the Matron had requested something of Keira; presumably there was some service Amber could give.

The blonde girl tried to hide any traces of shame she still felt at her nudity as she retraced the path she took when Keira took her to be inspected by the Matron each week. Mostly, the inspection consisted of the Matron criticizing Amber's posture. The young blonde walked up the path to the large stone building. She curtsied and bowed her head to the guards and asked where she could find the Matron. They directed her to a field behind the temple. She walked along the open air corridor on the side of the building, enclosed by marble pillars, until a field of short green grass unfolded before her. The Matron, Sheila, tall and dark haired, was watching her twin slaves as they ran across the field.

The twins' light brown hair was pleated in their customary long ponytails, which flew behind them as they ran. They wore leather belts, to which their wrists were cuffed at the side, and harnesses that crossed between their firm, perky breasts. Their elbows were chained close together. When they ran, they held themselves upright and brought their legs high. The Matron's daughter Chandra stood by them with a riding whip, counting. When she reached twenty she snapped the whip and the twins sprinted to a marker in the grass.

While the Matron watched on imperiously, Amber approached her, treading lightly. She stood up straight and did not look up to make eye contact until spoken do directly.

“Welcome, dear. Do you know why I've called you here?” asked Sheila in her calm, authoritative voice.

“No, Matron.”

“I remembered you took an interest in my ponygirls some time ago.”

“Yes Matron, I think they're wonderful,” said Amber humbly.

“You see how hard they have to work?”

“Yes, Matron.”

“Your Mistress could order you to do what I'm going to ask of you, but I want to hear your honest answer, girl,” said the Matron. “Are you willing to serve as a pony for a short time? I am putting together a team for a special occasion, and as I thought over different prospects, your interest in them came to mind.”

Amber's heart fluttered inside her. The girls had looked so beautiful when she saw them in their full regalia. They were totally restrained and under control, yet noble and proud at the same time. The idea of such harnessed beauty attracted her.

“I'll do whatever you wish, Matron,” she answered.

“Yes, but the real question is how much you want to,” said the Matron. “One can easily tell the difference between a mare who is proud to serve her Mistress and one who is forced. I need a ponygirl who will be proud and eager. As you can see, the training is not easy. You won't have to work as hard as these two, but you will be required to pull a carriage for a full day.”

Amber hesitated and looked at the twins, who were panting and sweating heavily from the repeated sprints they did for their regular conditioning. They didn't wear a bridle or tail plug for this kind of exercise, but they did practice running the same way they pulled a carriage—with their arms bound behind them and chests thrust provocatively forward. The running was made difficult by their inability to pump their arms. If Chandra saw them slowing down she brought the whip across their backs or bottoms. Still, Amber couldn't resist wondering what it was like to wear the bit, bridle and full harness. And besides, she didn't want the Matron or her Mistress to be disappointed in her.

“I would be honored to be your pony,” she said, a little awe detectable in her voice. “Really, I would.”

“That's good, dear,” said Sheila, “But this will not be for myself, actually.” She did not explain further. She told Amber to sit and watch the training, after which Chandra would take her measurements for a harness. The twins did a few more exercises, less strenuous than the sprints, and practiced parading a bit before Chandra led them and Amber back to a comfortable stable that had been outfitted to comfortably house humans.

Amber poured warm water into the twin's bath. Chandra had brought them inside the temple, to a room in the back on the ground floor to rest from their exertions. The room was a small marble-lined bath house where Amazons sometimes came, attended by their by their slave girls. Amber had served Keira and her friends in here before, and now Chandra had ordered her to help the twins cool down after their exercises. Amber filled the bath, which went a couple of feet deep into the floor, and began to massage the twins' legs and shoulders.

She knew the twins were the Matron's prize possession. She found them abandoned as little girls, and raised them herself; though they were her servants, she had showered them with affection. When they reached sexual maturity, Sheila inducted them into the Amazon way of life by sweetly seducing them with the help of the fabled lilith plant, and they took to their new role as pleasure slaves with great enthusiasm. They were devoted to their Matron.

“We saw a princess today,” said one twin, Amanda, with a playful smile.

“Really?” said Amber. “Are you sure she was a princess?”

“We hear a lot when we're with our Mistress,” said the other twin, Jessica.

“We know Natalie's going to be a pony too,” said Amanda, referring to the mischievous slave girl Amber had known since her first full day at the village. “We saw her fitted for a harness.”

“Oh? I wonder why,” asked Amber. “Is she being punished?”

“Certainly not,” said Amanda indignantly. “It's an honor.”

“Oh, of course,” said Amber. “I didn't mean to imply otherwise.”

“The princess is here, too,” said Jessica. “She's going to parade around all the villages and they're getting a pony carriage for her. She must be pretty important.”

“What is a princess, anyway?” asked Amanda.

“Well, a princess is a kind of ruler—a ruler's daughter, really,” Amber tried to explain.

“Well, this princess is the Matron's daughter now,” said Amanda. “But she was a princess before that, I heard.”

Amber was a bit puzzled. “The Matron has a new daughter?” she asked.

“Mistress Sheila adopted her,” said Jessica. “She's very beautiful.”

Amber thought to herself. “Maybe that's why she asked me to be a pony. I wonder if this woman is from a kingdom I've heard of.”

“Are there princesses where you come from?” asked Jessica. She knew Amber came from some “less civilized” land with palaces and kings but, like many of the Amazons around her, did not know much about it.

“Yes,” said Amber. “I used to serve a princess in my homeland.”

“Was she a good Mistress?” asked Amanda.

“Well, we were servants, not slaves,” Amber tried to explain. “She wasn't a 'Mistress' as such. We were quite fond of each other, though.” Amber knew there was no use pining for her lost status as a glamorous lady-in-waiting, but it was difficult not to.

“Do you think this is the same one?” asked Amanda. “That would be neat.”

“Well, it's not likely,” said Amber. She was interested to find out, however.

“Oh well,” said Amanda.

Amber rubbed the young woman's shoulders.

“Mm, that's good,” the twin said. “We should play with you more often.”

“I'm just making sure your muscles aren't sore,” said Amber. “You had a hard workout.” Then she asked with some concern, “Do all ponies have to exercise that hard?”

“Not when it's just for show,” said Jessica. “You'll just have to walk around and look pretty for everyone.”

“You are very pretty,” said Amanda.

“Yes you are,” added Jessica. The twins looked at each other slyly, as though they were conspiring together.

“Well, thank you,” said Amber. “Now, if you'll lift your leg up, I'll rub you down.” She began to massage the young woman's calf muscle.

“I like that,” the twin said, “Maybe you should come in here with us.”

“Well, I don't thi--”

Before Amber could say anything else, each twin took one of her arms and dragged into the pool with a splash. Suddenly they were pressed against her on both sides.

“You're going to get me in trouble,” said Amber.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” asked Amanda.

“Maybe,” said Jessica with a playful smile, “Because we keep getting them in trouble?”

“Well, that would make sense,” replied her sister.

Each girl bent down and licked one of Amber's breasts, teasing the nipples with eager tongues.

“Oh dear,” she said. This was like some fantasy come true; no wonder the Matron kept her twin slaves on such a short leash. Speaking of which, if the Matron caught them...

“I can't do this,” Amber said fearfully.

“Please don't go,” the twins begged. One of the girls slid her hand down to Amber's crotch.

Before her willpower began to drain away, Amber pulled herself away from the twins' embrace and climbed out of the tub.

“Aww, you're no fun,” said Jessica.

“Perhaps, but I'd like to keep my hide intact, thank you very much,” the blonde said. It was funny, she thought, how stoic and disciplined the slaves were in the presence of their Mistress and how mischievous they were away from her.

“If you want me to finish,” said Amber, “You have to promise to behave.”

“We promise,” said Amanda with a perfectly innocent smile.

When Amber returned to her Mistress's chambers, Keira noticed part of her hair was wet. There hadn't been time to dry it properly.

“The twins splashed me, Mistress; that's all.”

“They can be pretty frisky, can't they,” said Keira. She looked at her blonde slave suspiciously. “Are you sure that's all that happened?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Hmm,” said her Mistress. “I'm giving you a spanking just to be sure.”

Amber didn't complain that she was being disciplined unfairly. She tried to accept whatever Keira did with her; it just made things easier.

The Amazon took her over her knee and gave her a few smacks on the bottom.

“Remember (Smack!),” said her Mistress, “Don't ever (Smack!), ever (Smack!), ever (Smack!), ever (Smack!), fuck without my (Smack!) permission (Smack!).” Amber winced in pain but made no sound. She rose and rubbed her sore bottom.

“If you didn't do anything, that's your warning not to.”

“Yes Mistress,” said Amber humbly. In fact, she was rather pleased that she could make Keira jealous. She realized slaves like Natalie and the twins were so mischievous because they wanted attention, any kind of attention, from the Mistresses they loved.

* * * *

The day before Amber was to go back to the Matron's home for a few days' training as a ponygirl, Keira arranged to spend the afternoon with her young sister Dawn, and Dawn's slave Claire. It was a beautiful day to do go outside.

Each slave girl carried a woven basket and followed her Mistress, who led her them by a chain clipped to her collar. Amber wore only the crystal on its thin chain around her waist that Keira had given her. They reached the clearing with the pond and stream where Amber sometimes relaxed. The girls' leashes were unfastened and the whole party sat to eat. The slaves waited on their Mistresses and ate what was fed them by hand.

Amber sat on her knees on the soft, springy grass, and took what Keira gave her to eat and drink humbly and quietly. Claire laughed and flirted with her young Mistress, massaging Dawn's back and neck, betraying no emotion other than a happiness to please the teenage girl. After they had all eaten, Dawn and Keira decided their slaves should entertain them.

“Each slave has to get half a dozen acorns and put them on her Mistress's lap,” she said, thinking up yet another of her games. “No standing up—hands and knees only. And no using hands. The last one to finish gets a spanking. Go now!” She said gleefully.

Claire crawled away quickly; Amber paused a moment before following her on hands and knees. Did that girl always make Claire do things like this, she wondered? She disliked these silly games, but the Amazons were amused by them, and she wanted to make Keira happy.

She went to a nearby tree, picked up an acorn with her teeth and crawled back to Keira, and went back for another. Keira smiled with amusement and condescension as she watched her lovely slave hurry back and forth for her entertainment. Claire, who seemed more eager, finished first. The redhead curled on her side and put her head in Dawn's lap, and her Mistress stroked her affectionately. Claire looked perfectly content. Amber sighed with resignation. She couldn't quite act as submissive as the older, more experienced slave. She wished she could. She gave no resistance as Keira laid the lovely blonde over her knee.

Smack! Amber's bottom stung, and her face flushed. She didn't care so much if Keira did this to her in the privacy of her own home; Keira and her attentions thrilled her. But it was different with others looking at her. Claire seemed especially interested.

Smack! Her other cheek hurt now. Amber's eyes watered in shame. She wanted to go somewhere and hide.

Smack! Keira looked approvingly at the hand-shaped marks on Amber's bottom. Amber squealed just a little.

Smack! Amber moaned a little more, and a tear fell to the ground, this one from pain. Keira wasn't holding back much. Now Amber just wished it would end soon.

Smack! “Owww!...” Amber cried. Keira only smiled sadistically, pinching her slave's perky nipple and making her cry out again.

Smack! “Ouch!” Mercifully, this was the last one. Amber stood up to rub her stinging bottom, waiting a moment for the throbbing pain to die down a little, before she got on her knees and kissed Keira's feet, thanking her Mistress humbly. She kept her voice low, her eyes downcast, and avoided looking at the others.

“Wouldn't it be lovely,” said Keira to Dawn, “To see these two beauties make love? I think we'd enjoy that.”

“Yes, I would like to see that,” Dawn agreed.

The younger Mistress smiled and positioned Claire on her hands and knees, and Amber knelt to face her. Keira went to the basket and pulled something out. It was a phallus, and Keira handed a second one to Dawn.

“Go on,” said Keira. “You don't want to be punished, do you?” Amber shook her head.

Claire leaned over and kissed Amber's lips. The redhead's mouth was warm, wide, and inviting. Amber even felt her tongue moving sensuously over her lips. She returned the kiss and found herself aroused; Claire was a beautiful woman, she thought. Dawn knelt behind Claire, and Keira behind Amber. The blonde slave felt the hard phallus pushed inside her. She began to moan softly as she kissed her fellow slave's lips softly. She felt intense pleasure as she did so, and she saw Claire was penetrated from behind by Dawn, just as she was. Rather than feeling awkward, Amber thought, this was quite nice. She breathed heavily as the phallus was pushed deeper inside her, and felt Claire's warm breath against her own mouth. The phallus continued its unyielding thrusts inside her.

“Ohh...oooohhhhh...” She and Claire were moaning together. Their kisses became more heated as the passion inside them grew. Amber thrust her tongue over Scarlet's greedily, tasting her in her mouth.

“Good girls,” said Keira. “Now, lie down facing the other way.”

Amber wanted the thrusting to continue, but she obeyed and lay on her side, her head on Keira's lap. Claire did the same across from her. Dawn came around and intertwined their legs together.

“I think they'll like this even more.” she said.

Amber could see Claire's bare pussy was just inches away from her own. Claire took the initiative, pressing her crotch against Amber's. The blonde slave felt a pleasant pressure deep down inside her, as her wet labia came into contact with Claire's. She breathed heavily again, building towards a climax. The feeling of her crotch against the redhead slave's was sensual in a more raw, immediate way than anything she had previously felt. Even without anything penetrating inside her it still sent shivers up her spine. She bucked her hips against Claire's, matching the redhead's breathing with her movements. Keira was her cushion, holding her gently and smiling as the two girls pushed against each other. The sight itself was enough to arouse her desire. The two slave girls sighed and moaned together sweetly. Dawn was cupping Claire's breasts in her hands, massaging them gently, as Claire tilted her head back into her Mistress's lap. The redhead closed her eyes and focused on the sensations she felt, until she too could sense a climax building inside her.

“They're so sweet, aren't they?” said Dawn. Keira agreed.

“Let's show them what else we brought.”

Keira raised Amber's head and made sit back up on her knees. Scarlet sat up to see what her Mistress wanted now. A few beads of sweat glistened on her pale skin in th afternoon sun. Dawn reached into her basket and produced yet another phallus. This one was different from the other two—longer, and tapered at both ends.

“Now on your hands and knees, girls,” said the young Mistress. “Back to back.”

Amber and Claire positioned themselves as ordered. They knelt with their backs to each other, close enough to touch, and bent forward, hands to the ground. Dawn placed the one end of this strange phallus into Claire's groin, and then moved the other end into Amber's, so that the slave girls could penetrate each other simply by rocking back and forth. Dawn then lay down in front of Claire, lifted up her skirt and ordered the slave to pleasure her. Claire moved aside the leather thong Dawn was wearing underneath and put her tongue to her Mistress's pussy.

Keira, for her part, knelt in front o Amber, stripping below the waist and cradling Amber's head lovingly as she brought it down to her crotch. Amber thought this whole exercise was as strange as it was exciting. Who would have imagined anything like this back home? She hungrily lapped her tongue over the wet lips of Keira's pussy. Her Mistress stroked her head gently, and cupped her own breast with her other hand. Amber breathed heavily as the phallus was pushed as far into her as it could comfortably go. She could feel the pulse in her skin throbbing against the solid shaft. She rubbed her tongue greedily against Keira's labia, opening the swollen cleft between her Mistress's legs and moving it inside the wet valley beyond. Keira sighed softly and held Amber's head in place, her chest heaving. Claire was directly behind her, also receiving pleasure from her movements. She rocked back and forth more quickly, the phallus doing its work inside her, thrusting insistently, sending a wave of pleasure through her each time.

Amber held still and let the older slave rock back and forth now, faster and faster. All of Amber's sensations were sexual; she became a vessel of pleasure, blissfully unaware of anything but pleasing her Mistress, and of solid shaft inside her. She licked Keira's clit and pushed her fingers into her, rubbing back and forth vigorously. The thrusting shaft seemed to force the breath out of her sharply each time it pushed into her. Amber lost track of the time before she came to a blissful climax, and Keira did the same soon afterwards.

As she slowed her breathing down, she saw Claire smiling blissfully, showing no shame. Amber smiled at her with relief. She bathed in the warm afterglow of her orgasm. She felt wonderful.

“I believe, Keira, that our slave girls here came before we did,” said Dawn.

“Hmm, I think you're right,” said Keira.

Amber suddenly realized they were right, and prepared herself mentally to be punished. It was rather petty, she thought. She and Claire had only done what they were told.

“I'll go easy on you this time,” said Keira. “If you two administer the punishment to each other.”

“I like that idea,” said Dawn.

Amber gulped and looked at Claire nervously. “Yes, Mistress,” she said meekly.

“Give your fellow slave ten spanks,” said Keira, “And she will do the same to you. If we're satisfied, we won't punish you further.”

Claire went over to her friend and got down on her hands and knees. This, Amber realized, was the hardest thing she had to do so far. Claire remained obediently still, waiting for Amber to strike her lovely ass. Claire had a fuller figure than her fellow slave girl; her hips were wider and her bottom was rounder. Sometimes Amber had felt jealous of her. Now, she wondered if she could bring herself to hurt her like this.

“Ten for her, or else twenty for you dear,” said Keira. “And I won't use my usual restraint.” Amber nodded fearfully. She didn't usually think of Keira as “restrained” in her punishments.

She brought her hand down onto Claire's bottom. She thought she had done so pretty hard, but Keira gave her a warning look that said otherwise. Amber tried again harder. Claire remained impassive. Keira folded her arms and gave Amber yet another look that said she was not impressed. Amber sighed, and brought her hand down with as much force as she could muster.

“Ow!” cried the redhead. Amber hit her again, just as hard this time.

“Ouch!”

“That's better,” said Keira. Amber wanted to beg her Mistress to let her ease up, but knew it was useless. She hit Claire's bottom almost as hard as she could again and again. She could tell her friend was holding back tears.

“Oww!...Ahhh!...Ow!”

Claire rocked forward with each blow. Amber's spanks had left reddish hand-shaped marks on the young woman's ass. As she continued, Claire's restrained cries became higher pitched.

“That's enough dear,” said Keira. “Now it's your turn.” Amber had actually lost count. As Claire got up Amber could see her tear-streaked face. But Claire flashed a smile at her, to let her know she was all right.

Amber got on her hands and knees, and Claire knelt next to her.

“Owww!” Amber hadn't even had time to brace herself--and Claire seemed to have no qualms about this.

“Ahh!...Oww!...Mmmph!” Claire was hitting hard and fast. Amber found herself gasping for air. Her eyes welled up with tears. Either her friend was being very obedient or was very angry with her.

“Ahhh!...Ahh!...Oww!...Ow!” Amber whimpered pathetically. Her ass was on fire.

“OWW!” The last one was even harder than the rest. Usually the pain reached a crescendo around the sixth spank or so, but Claire had managed to make her discomfort increase with each blow. Amber was close to sobbing outright when the blows finally stopped.

“Very good, pet,” said Dawn.

Properly chastised, the two slave girls followed their Mistresses home. Keira and Dawn agreed it had been a lovely afternoon.

Back home, Amber wondered if she was ready to be a ponygirl.

“It will be harder than most of the things we've done so far,” said Keira, “But you can do it. Don't disappoint me.”

“I won't, Mistress.”

Keira made love to her several times that night, knowing it would be their last opportunity for a few days. Amber fell asleep wondering about this new princess in the village, whose pony she had agreed to be.

* * * *

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 9: The Princess

One week earlier...

The princess in question was, in fact, the very one with whom Amber was well acquainted. In her home country of Avalonia, a beautiful, pastoral land which had passed generations without fighting a single war, the princess Penelope's father had ruled well and sired two beautiful daughters in his relative old age. Penelope's mother had passed away when the princess was still young, and her father had remarried another woman whom Penelope had never particularly liked. When the old king died, Penelope prepared herself to assume the throne, but suddenly found almost half the nobles and barons arrayed against her—her younger sister Gwendolyn was making a power grab, and Penelope was locked away in prison, her supporters scattered or cowed into silence. Penelope assumed her stepmother was behind this, as Gwendolyn was little more than a spoiled teenager.

A loyal friend named Amber had helped to free Penelope and see her secretly escape, only to be caught and exiled to some unexplored island. The neighboring kingdoms—Calledon, Corsinia, Norwich—refused to shelter or aid to the princess, preferring to see who came out ahead first. This angered Penelope to no end; the ruling families of those lands had once sent suitors to fawn over her, praising her beauty and wisdom to the high heavens; now she saw their flowery words were worth less than the air they were spoken with. A harsh lesson in politics for a young would-be ruler like herself. So Penelope had ventured to the only place she could, across the sea and into the unknown.

Here on the Amazons' islands Penelope found herself alone and unsure of her surroundings. The borders with all the neighboring kingdoms were closely guarded, so the princess had made her way here, where her enemies feared to follow. She herself was a little scared, but desperate enough to brave the unknown wilderness on this early morning. She rode her white horse deeper into the interior, avoiding the few outposts on the coast. She was covered in a plain cloak and hood, with a scarf around her face. She carried a sword was hidden at her side. Eventually she found a path and followed it. It must inevitably lead to some settlement, she thought, and it would be someplace her enemies could not find her. She needed time to rest and decide the best course of action.

The princess noticed a fire ahead. It came from an armed encampment, she saw—someone had attacked it and set it ablaze. Several dead guards lay on the ground. Only four remained, and they surrounded a young woman who fought them off with a hide covered shield and spear. Penelope recognized their uniforms: they were loyal to her upstart sister and her mother-in-law, and therefore enemies to her. The woman wore a studded leather jerkin for armor, but her head was uncovered and bleeding. She lunged so ferociously that all of the men were driven back. Penelope dismounted and quietly drew the sword she carried, hoping to find a way to slip by. The woman caught one of the soldiers under the ribs with her spearhead, which broke off as he perished. The other three closed in on her, all armed with swords. The female warrior stumbled back. Her leg seemed injured and she couldn't move very well. They would finish her soon...

Penelope weighed her options for an instant. She could try to escape, but her sense of honor would not let her abandon the brave woman to her enemies. It was foolhardy, but Penelope didn't think she could live with herself if she didn't try to help. She drew her sword and charged in. One of the men turned to her and raised a shield, but not before Penelope struck him in the chest. The other two turned in surprise and the warrior woman struck one in the leg with the broken shaft of her spear. He limped away from her, towards Penelope, and the woman fell over, unable to walk any more.

Penelope's rational mind reasserted itself and she realized this wasn't a good idea. She knew how to fence, but had never been in real combat before. The two men separated and flanked her, closing in on each side. She backed away. In desperation, she picked up a flaming ember and tossed in at the limping soldier. His leather breeches caught fire and he yelled. Penelope ran over and stabbed him in the gut with her sword, only to be knocked down viciously from behind. She rolled away and stood up, facing the more heavily armored soldier that remained.

She parried his blows, but the man was stronger and more experienced. She couldn't get past his shield. His sword cut her once, then twice. He came too close for her and she fell down. Just and he raised his blade to finish her, she stabbed out at his leg. He stopped, cried out in pain, and Penelope rolled away. With a cry she swung hard enough to knock him off balance and finished him off. There were no more soldiers around. Penelope sighed and rose to her feet in relief. She was very weary, now that the rush of adrenaline had faded, and stunned; as she had never killed anyone before.

“Thank you,” said a nearby voice. Penelope had momentarily forgotten the young woman in her desperate fight. The princess walked over to her and knelt down. The girl was bloody and bruised, and her eyes were half closed. She was very pretty, with a sweet face, a tall, slender figure and light brown hair that came just past her shoulders.

“What's your name, miss?” asked Penelope.

“Talia,” said the girl. She passed out for a moment.

“Well, Talia, I won't let you die,” said Penelope. She ran to get provisions from her saddlebags and came back as quickly as she could. She removed the hood and scarf that disguised her face.

Talia was smitten with Penelope from the moment she laid eyes on her. The princess was stunningly beautiful—in her prime, she was the product of generations of handsome kings who married only the most attractive women in their realm. Her hair was a fiery golden yellow, her eyes deep blue. Her face was classically beautiful, with high, soft cheekbones and warm, inviting lips. Her figure was not exactly voluptuous, but was slender and well proportioned, and round in all the right places. Penelope had a noble, regal bearing befitting her heritage. She moved and spoke with grace and confidence, never losing her temper, and radiated a warmth that put people instinctively at ease around her.

She bound Talia's wounds and stopped the bleeding. Talia came around, and Penelope gave the girl some water.

“Are you a goddess?” asked Talia.

“No, miss, I'm very human,” said Penelope. “Relax and drink a little.”

“You could pass for one,” said the young woman with laugh. “I thought you might be coming to take me to the afterlife.”

“You're young still,” said the princess. “You're going to live a good long time.”

She helped Talia sit up.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes, with your help.” Penelope supported Talia with her arm and helped her to her horse.

“Are you an Amazon?” the princess asked.

“Yes, my lady, I suppose that's what they call us.”

“I never knew your people were real,” said Penelope. “Why were you fighting those men?”

“I was patrolling and got careless. They ambushed me.”

“Yet you killed eight of them,” said the princess in amazement.

“Not very good, I know,” said Talia, a little ashamed. “Any other of my tribe would not have needed help.”

“May I ask what the name of place this is?”

“You're on the island of Lyria. My home, Timberwood, is not far from here.”

“Let me take you there, then.”

“Of course my lady. Keep following the path.”

They mounted the horse. Talia sat behind Penelope and embraced her for support.

“Would you like to know my name?” said the princess as they got underway, wondering why Talia hadn't asked yet.

“You risked your life to save mine,” said Talia. “So I'll call you whatever you wish. I belong to you now.”

* * * *

Penelope stood before Sheila, the Matron, in the large hall in the Amazons' temple. Her gown was torn and her cloak muddy, but her regal countenance impressed all the same. Penelope looked around at the temple's marble columns and classical construction. Clearly, this was a sophisticated people. The Amazon settlement fascinated her. The women here were proud and beautiful, and very welcoming. She was impressed with everyone she met, from the stout men and confidant women to the lovely nude slave girls who dutifully served them. This, she thought, was what a safe and orderly kingdom should be like.

The Matron looked at Penelope and Talia curiously, weighing the situation before deciding what was to be done with the new arrival. “You both swear your story is true?” she asked them.

They affirmed it was.

“You did not surrender, Talia?” asked the Matron intently.

“No, Matron. I fought to the death.”

“Good; it would set a terrible precedent if you were taken alive,” said the Matron. “You still have your honor. I will send a scout to collect trophies from the dead.” Sheila then turned her attention to the princess. “Penelope may join our tribe, if she wishes. She has shed and spilled blood with one of us, and I find her deserving.”

“That's very kind of you,” said Penelope. “I am without a home, and I would be glad to join you.”

“I will adopt you as my own daughter,” said the Matron. “You have many rights as an Amazon, but responsibilities also. It is not always easy. Do you understand?”

“I do, Matron,” said Penelope. “Thank you.” She bowed gracefully.

“And Talia, since she is in your debt, will have to repay you,” said Sheila. “There are different ways--” But Talia interrupted before she could finish.

“I know what I want,” said the young Amazon. “I want to serve Penelope.” The Matron paused and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” the older woman asked. “This is serious; you cannot go back once you've made your decision.”

“I am sure, Matron,” said Talia. “My life is hers.” Talia then turned to Penelope.

“I am flattered,” said the Princess. “But you don't owe me anything, as far as I am concerned.”

“Yes, well, this is her choice,” said Sheila. “You saved her life, and she's your responsibility. Even if you didn't claim her as your slave, she has claimed you as her Mistress.”

“That is what I want,” said Talia, clearly smitten with Penelope.

“Very well,” said Sheila. If Talia wasn't completely certain, she thought, it was too bad; she wasn't going to waste any more time on it. “Chandra, strip her down and collar her.”

The Matron's oldest daughter came up to Talia and drew a knife. She cut off the girl's leather jerkin and her halter top underneath, exposing Talia's perky breasts. Talia removed her skirt and sandals, and Chandra cut the string of the thong she wore underneath. When Talia was naked, Chandra took her roughly by the arm.

“Do you want her shaved?” asked Chandra. “I think she should be. It's more humbling.”

“If you think it's best...” said Penelope, unsure exactly what the question meant.

“I'll be back soon.” She led Talia away.

“I'm not sure I completely understand,” said Penelope. This was some unknown custom to her. “Why must she be unclothed?”

“Talia is your property now,” answered Sheila. “She may not own anything or wear clothing.”

“You have your customs, of course,” said Penelope. “But I don't wish to humiliate her.”

“That is our way.”

“I see, Matron. What should I do with her?”

“Oh, slave girls have many uses. She will please you intimately, and work for your profit.”

Penelope could only wonder what this was going to be like.

After a short while Chandra returned, leading Talia by a brass collar around the nude girl's neck. Talia wore wrist and ankle cuffs with rings on them, and all her pubic hair was gone. She looked more feminine and utterly vulnerable, and less like the warrior who had defeated several armed men at once. Talia knelt down and kissed Penelope's feet lovingly. She formally swore herself to the princess. At the Matron's command, Penelope swore to protect and provide for her, and keep her disciplined. She hoped she was up to the task.

Chandra handed something to Penelope. The princess recognized it as a flogger—they were sometimes used to punish criminals in her own kingdom—and picked it up, examining it curiously.

“You can use this for now, until you get one of your own,” Chandra said.

* * * *

Penelope was offered a room in the Matron's home, which also served as the amazons' temple, but chose to stay in the cozy cottage that Talia had once owned, at the new slave girl's insistence—Talia's property was now Penelope's, and the Amazon seemed happy to give it to her. The princess settled in gratefully and the home was redecorated to fit her tastes. She refurbished the formerly spartan dwelling to make it softer, brighter, and more inviting.

Rings and hooks hung on the walls for reasons she didn't quite understand, and not all of the furnishings were familiar to her, but she was happy to finally have a place to call her own after many days spent wandering in the open wilderness. That afternoon an Amazon scout returned from the ruined campsite and presented Penelope with a leather bag full of severed ears from the men she and Talia had killed. The scout expressed her admiration. Penelope blanched at the sight and said nothing for fear of giving offense.

Training with the Amazons was harder and more demanding than anything Penelope had ever done before. For an entire week she arose a little after dawn broke and went to practice with the other women early in the day, learning to a use a sword, spear, dagger and bow. They used safer wooden weapons for practice, but they were very competitive and Penelope was bruised and muddy from falling to the ground by the time practice ended. Then she exercised, carrying buckets of water up long flights of stairs to increase her strength and running along the island's trails to improve her conditioning. The other women who had done this since they were children made it look so easy, she thought.

To learn to live in the wild, she had to know every type of plant and identify every kind of animal track. The Matron Sheila supervised her and gave her encouragement. Since Penelope was new in the tribe she had to train full time until Sheila deemed her ready, and the Matron had very high standards.

Penelope stumbled back to her private cottage in the evening. She was bruised and sore, and did not even take off her weathered clothes before falling onto the bed. The new clothes she had been given by the Amazons were still strange to her, but comfortable. Instead of the elaborate silk dresses of royalty, she now wore a more pragmatic leather hunting jerkin and skirt.

“Let me get you undressed, Mistress,” said Talia, who had waited faithfully for the beautiful princess to return since the morning, as she had each day that week. Penelope unwound her hair and let the eager slave girl undress and bathe her; she felt almost too stiff to move. Talia luxuriated in washing Penelope's beautiful golden hair. It was a bit shorter than before, out of necessity, and done up in a ponytail most of the time now, but when unwound and washed it was as radiant as ever.

“How did you do it?” she asked the Amazon girl. Penelope had thought Talia made a huge sacrifice by giving up her freedom; now she practically envied her.

Talia shrugged. “Sometimes, you get so tired you have block everything out but putting one foot in front of the other,” she said.

“Well, I've been allowed some free time this coming week,” said Penelope. “The Matron wants to make sure you get properly trained.”

Talia looked at her with wide, grateful eyes.

“Thank you for keeping me,” she said. “I know I imposed myself on you, but I would be heartbroken if you sold me.”

“No,” said Penelope. “I wouldn't do anything like that to you.”

Slavery was practiced to some degree throughout the kingdoms, and she understood the obvious potential for pain and abuse. She was resolved to take good care of Talia.

“Thank you, Mistress,” said Talia. She was overjoyed. Penelope was finally going to take her! “I'll be a good slave for you. May I help you undress for the night?”

“In a moment,” said the princess as she sat down. Talia was sitting on her knees, looking at her new Mistress with adoration. “I thought we might talk.”

“About what, Mistress?”

“I just wanted to know why you gave up your freedom,” said Penelope. “I don't understand all your ways, but it seems a strange thing to do—to me, at least.”

“Well, Mistress,” answered Talia, “Since I was young I've had these...feelings that I can't explain. I always wondered what it would be like to be, well, bound, and I would crave punishment even when I had done nothing wrong. Sometimes I would bind myself when I was alone, and I liked it. I began to think about it an awful lot—and when I saw you, all I could think was how I wanted to be with you.”

“So this is what you really want?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I see,” said the princess, deep in thought now. “All right then, let's have a look at you.”

Talia stood up straight, put her hands behind her neck and pushed her chest out proudly. Penelope examined her closely. Talia was very pretty, with a bright, expressive face, lovely dimples and a well toned, slender figure—some might have said she was too skinny, but Penelope found her quite attractive. Her light brown hair was cut about an inch above her shoulders, and combed back to reveal the lovely nape of her neck. Her breasts were firm and pleasantly round, and Penelope could see her pubis that had been shaved.

“Turn around,” said Penelope. “Put your hands against the wall there.”

Talia obeyed, turning around and arching her back provocatively for Penelope. The princess put her hands on the Amazon, tracing the narrow curve of her waist and hips. On impulse she placed her arms around the young woman and gently cupped her breasts. Talia responded by pushing her chest further forward against Penelope's hands.

My very own slave girl, she thought. What would they think of this at home? A lovely young woman who would obey her every whim, do whatever she wanted. She could take Talia any time she wanted, or punish her for any reason, and the girl would have to submit. The idea gave Penelope much guilty pleasure.

She told Talia to remain where she was and produced the flogger Chandra had given her. She flicked it lightly against Talia's backside a few times to test its feel. She felt a surge of erotic power, of control, well up inside her. Talia swayed her hips gently in response to the flogger's touch. Penelope brought her hand down against Talia's firm bottom, hitting it with medium force. She hit her other cheek. Talia let out a low, barely audible sigh.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Penelope became more adventurous. She put her arms around Talia's torso, and pressed her chest firmly against Talia's back. She was aware of a pleasant tingling sensation below her waist.

“And that?”

“Very much, Mistress.”

“Let's get ready for bed,” said the Princess. “It's been a long day.”

Talia turned around and unbuttoned her Mistress's jerkin, humbly avoiding eye contact. Penelope let her slave girl take off her halter top after that, revealing the princess's perfectly round, exquisite breasts. Talia admired her Mistress as she removed her skirt and thong, brushing her hands against the princess's long, silky legs.

After Talia had neatly folded and put away her Mistress's clothes, Penelope approached her and gently put her hands on the slave's breasts. Talia smiled sweetly, putting her arms around Penelope's neck and kissed her. Their lips remained locked together for some time, bosom pressed against bosom. She had been attracted to another woman once—to a lady in waiting of hers named Amber. She had seen Amber when she was bathing, and Penelope couldn't help but admire the servant's gorgeous nude figure. Amber didn't seem to mind much. She kept her feelings a strict secret—the royal court would have been scandalized by their behavior. Here though, no one would have given it a second thought.

Penelope led Talia to the bed and sat down, laying the slave face down on her lap.

The princess ran her hand over Talia's buttocks, pinching the flesh playfully. She swatted the girl's bottom a few more times, and saw that Talia was smiling.

“Do you want me to spank you harder?”

“Yes, please, Mistress.”

Penelope brought her hand down with a loud Smack! again and again. Talia moaned, partly from pain but mostly in pleasure. Penelope found this terribly exciting; apparently, Talia did too. Penelope took Talia and laid her back on the cozy bed. She took Talia's wrist cuffs and clipped them to the convenient rings on the bedposts (why did all the Amazons' bed have these? she had wondered). Talia looked up at her with anticipation. The one thing the Matron had stressed to Penelope above all else was to never allow a slave to come without her express permission. Penelope decided to test Talia, to see how obedient she could be.

She took a feather and ran the tip lightly under Talia's arms, forcing a giggle from the restrained girl. Penelope tickled Talia's chin and between her breasts, and told her to open her legs. Talia opened her thighs, and Penelope ran the feather over her sex, making her squirm.

Penelope then leaned down and took Talia's breast in her mouth, devouring the nipple, moving her tongue fiercely around the aureole. It had been a long time since the princess had had sexual release. Talia closed her eyes and sighed out loud, straining against her wrist cuffs. Penelope kissed her fully on the lips, moving her tongue against her slave's. The two remained in their passionate kiss for quite some time. The princess then moved her head down Talia's body, kissing her between the breasts, then on her chest, and down to her stomach. She smiled at Talia and placed her head between the eager slave's legs. She put her tongue just to the lips of Talia's sex, feeling the taste of smooth skin and sweet moisture. She did not quite put her tongue inside Talia but felt the girl's clitoris, rubbing and teasing her. Talia's head moved back against the pillow and her chest heaved upwards.

“Oh...oohh...ooohhh...oooohhhh...” As she moaned more emphatically, Penelope raised her head back up. Talia was entranced by her beauty. To her Penelope looked like a goddess, as though a classically sculpted statue had come to life. The princess lay on top her now, passionately kissing her slave girl. Talia thought she tasted sweet. Penelope put a hand on Talia's breast and with her other hand she reached down between the young woman's legs. She rubbed her finger against Talia's labia. The bound woman desperately wanted to embrace the princess, but she could only receive pleasure from her. Penelope once again moved her head down to Talia's firm bosom, sucking her nipple, and pushed a pair of fingers into Talia's pussy. Talia's breasts were not large, but were firm and well rounded, and Penelope was enjoying them immensely. The nipples stiffened until they felt rock hard. Penelope bit down on one greedily until her slave cried out.

“Ah!...aahh...aaahhh...” with Penelope's attention to her pussy, Talia was feeling close to a climax. Penelope stopped. Talia looked at her pleadingly, desperate for more pleasure from her new Mistress.

“Now, this is your first test,” said Penelope. “I want you to feel the best orgasm you can. But it has to be when I say you can. Understand?”

Talia nodded. Penelope reveled in her power over this young woman. She had ruled her kingdom before this, but it wasn't the same. This was so much more intimate and personal. She unfastened Talia's wrists from the bedposts. Talia wanted to embrace her Mistress, but Penelope made her kneel on the floor next to the bed. The princess then went to her a chest that Chandra had given her and pulled out a phallus. She examined it with a raised eyebrow, then smiled. She bent down and pushed it into Talia's groin. The slave girl gave a long, low moan, and Penelope left it there inside her as she sat back on the bed.

“Now I want you to pleasure me,” she ordered. “And that has to stay inside you the whole time. If it falls out, I'll know you came without permission, and I'll have to punish you.”

Talia nodded obediently. “Yes, Mistress.”

Penelope sat facing her slave girl and opened her legs. Talia eagerly bent her head down between her Mistress's legs. She thought Penelope's pussy was the most beautiful she had ever seen, white and smooth, and covered by lovely golden curls of hair. Her tongue went right to her Mistress's sex, tasting the sweet wetness against the soft skin, then opening her labia and plunging deep inside. She moved her tongue around enthusiastically, happy to be able to pleasure such a beautiful and loving Mistress.

Penelope bit her lip and moaned appreciatively. Talia obviously had experience with this. She knew where to touch her to give her the most pleasure, and moved her tongue with assurance. Penelope pinched her own nipples softly, feeling them harden under the pressure. Why hadn't she done this more often? Convention be damned; if she was ever able to return to her own kingdom, she was going to take whomever she wanted into her own bed. Talia especially.

“Mmmm...mmm...” Penelope closed her eyes in a blissful reverie. She blocked everything else out but the sensations running from between her legs to the rest of her body. Finally, after some long minutes, she felt the warm glow of orgasm erupt inside her, courtesy of Talia's skilled attentions. She stood up over her slave girl.

“Have you come yet?” she asked.

Talia shook her head. “Please, Mistress, I don't think I can hold it much longer; may I come?”

“Hmm,” said her Mistress tantalizingly. “You've been good tonight, so I suppose so.” She brought Talia onto the bed and laid her down on her back. The phallus remained inside her, glistening with the wetness from the slave girl's pussy. Penelope lay next to her and sweetly kissed her slave's lips. She reached down and began to move the phallus back and forth. After just a few moments Talia exploded, face contorted, and let out a series of torturous cries and moans. Her back arched and her chest heaved up and down dramatically.

“Thank you...thank you so much Mistress...”

“I wonder what else I can do with you,” said Penelope with some bashfulness. “I'll have to ask Chandra to help with your training; she knows so much more than I.”

Talia gulped. The prospect of being trained by Chandra was daunting, but she nodded obediently and said nothing. The two lay together, embraced in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking. Talia placed her head against Penelope's lovely white bosom, closed her eyes and fell asleep blissfully. Penelope herself thought that if she could not be in Avalonia, this was the next best place.

* * * *

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.

* * * *

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 11: The Festival

The Matron sat in her customary chair on the raised platform, hearing the occasional dispute over matters of honor or property, and organizing the Amazons' training and warring. At the moment she was particularly concerned with the upcoming feast, which would involve her whole village and a few others, as well. It was a daunting task of organization.

At about noon, a messenger arrived, dragging a naked slave girl behind him in chains. The girl's hair was black like the Matron's own, her face was pretty and her skin had a light, pleasant tan to it. She was manacled at the wrists and ankles, and a single long chain ran between them. The chain between her bare feet forced her to take shorter steps. The messenger led her by a long chain that went around her waist.

“Is this the one from Blackmount?” asked the Matron, referring to another Amazon village. She had been expecting a delivery of this sort.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Very good, bring her here.”

The messenger led the bound captive to the Matron's seat and departed. Humbly, the girl bent over and kissed Sheila's feet. The Matron could see the fading marks of deep welts, even scars, on the slave girl's back.

“What is your name, girl?”

“Lydia, Matron.”

“I received word from Blackmount's matriarch,” said Sheila. “It seems things did not go well with your previous Mistress.”

The girl looked up at Sheila pleadingly.

“Please, Matron,” the slave girl practically sobbed. “I tried to obey. I really did--”

Sheila waved her hand dismissively, cutting the frightened girl off.

“She seemed to believe in your sincerity,” said the Matron, “And she is a friend of mine, so I trust her judgment. Otherwise, you would have been cast out into the wilderness in disgrace.”

Lydia nodded. “Disgrace” meant much less to her than it did to the Amazons, but exile meant death for one with no resources or survival skills like herself. Had she rebelled, she would have faced starvation and probably much worse. She desperately hoped the Amazons would not think she had tried to do so.

“What you did or did not do in the past is now irrelevant,” said the Matron sternly. “You will be judged on your obedience from this time forward. The normal thing to do is offer you up on the town auction block; however, I have a special need you can fill. You will be the prize of the summer solstice tournament. You will serve you new Mistress, whoever she may be, faithfully to the best of your ability.”

Lydia nodded. “Yes, Mistress,” she said. She was relieved to be spared the auction block, but felt anxiety at not knowing who her new Mistress would be for a few more days. She was taken to a small room in the temple, little bigger than a cell, that had all the necessities of a home. She was well fed and made to look her best for the festival. She began to hope that the worst of her ordeal was behind her.

* * * *

Becoming a ponygirl entailed a much more strict form of bondage then Amber had yet experienced, but as frightening as it was, it was also liberating in a strange way. She had the chance to be something other than what she was, though she was not normally one to act out or draw attention to herself. Talia and Natalie, her fellow slaves, certainly seemed to enjoy themselves. First, Amber's hair was braided into a single long tail. Then Chandra and the Matron's twin slaves stretched them thoroughly before any exercises began.

They then made sure their harnesses fit. There was a kind of leather halter top with straps that crossed Amber's back. It had cups that held her breasts up but did not cover them; this made her chest stick out more. It was connected by straps to her belt, which was the important part; the belt would connect to the poles of the carriage. A kind of leather thong was connected to the the belt and went down between her legs for support. The thong also clipped to her tail behind her, to hold it in place. Amber looked at the tail curiously before Jessica, her handler, moistened it with a little oil and turned her around. It was thin at the tip and widened before tapering at the base. Sewn to the base were strands of ambers own hair and thread that matched her hair color.

Amber held her breath as the tail was pushed into her tight anus; she felt it stretching her open, and for a moment was afraid it might tear her before the thickest part finally went past her narrow opening. She exhaled a sigh of relief. She felt strangely full now, invaded as she was by the hard, wide plug. She saw Talia and Natalie playfully shaking their hips, moving their “tails” back and forth. Chandra tapped them with a riding crop to keep them still.

Next, a bridle was fitted on her head. One long strap went over her head, down past her cheeks and buckled under her chin. It had metal rings just at the corners of her lips. There was a headband as well, with colorful, decorative feathers sticking up from it. Last, a bit was fitted into her mouth. It had hooks that connected to the rings at the corners of her lips, and a short metal bar that functioned effectively as a gag. Inside her mouth went rod with a blunt metal spike attached, pointing up to the roof of her mouth. She would not feel it unless her rider pulled back on the reins and drove it upward; the corners of Amber's own mouth functioned as the lever. It would sting badly, and would especially hurt if held up continuously, but it would not break the skin.

The reins themselves would be clipped to the rings of the bit, but that was not necessary now. Once Jessica was satisfied that everything fit Amber, she removed the bit and bridle and clipped a lead to Amber's collar. Amber had to hold the leash in her mouth while her wrist cuffs were attached to the sides of her belt. More cuffs were placed above her elbows and connected by a short chain, pulling her arms back and forcing her chest out further. There were two pairs of boots for her—one for show, and one for running in. The running boots, which were like sandals with straps that wound up her leg to the knee, were buckled onto her legs by Jessica.

The Matron's slave finally took Amber's leash in hand and led her out of the stable. Jessica carried a riding crop and didn't hesitate to use it if she didn't think Amber moved fast enough. Her attitude towards her was friendly, however. Natalie followed, led by Jessica's twin, Amanda, and Chandra led Talia.

“Come on, slowpoke,” she said with a teasing smile and slapped Amber's bottom with the crop. Amber picked up her pace. They came to the open field by the temple, which was enclosed by a long fence. The three new ponygirls were lined up next to one another, facing Chandra. The twins flanked her.

“This will be a rushed training course, as we only have a few days to prepare,” said Chandra. “So if any one of you gets lazy or doesn't pull your weight, I'll make your ass so sore you won't sit down for a week. Am I clear?”

The three pony slaves nodded in unison.

“Let's begin, then.” The girls had already stretched, so they ran around the yard to warm up, and then were made to run in earnest; first in short sprints, then longer distances. The nature of the exercise was such that after an hours' practice the girls were dead tired. Amber's muscles ached. The tail plug poked and prodded inside her every time she moved, and her jutting breasts felt heavy. She could barely walk when the ponygirls were finally led back into the cozy stable, where they were rubbed down and given water. Their arms remained bound; they had to lap up the water from bowls placed before them. Still, it was a relief.

The girls' arms were unbound until the afternoon, and they rested on soft straw mats in the stalls, their neck collars tethered to ring bolts on the wall. Amber was in a dreamy haze when Chandra entered the stable again and ordered her to stand. I can't go again, she thought, not so soon, even though it had been several hours. This time, she was put in full harness, with the bit and bridle on her head. A specialized pair of boots was laced on her, this one had a horseshoe on the bottom to keep the weight centered forward. It had a high arch and no heel, and felt a little odd to walk in. Once again it was Jessica who led Amber outside. Amber had held Jessica's own reins once, a rare privilege from the Matron. Now their roles were reversed.

Talia and Natalie chomped on their bits and kept moving their legs, stomping heir hooves. They tossed their heads as their handlers, Amanda and Chandra, held them steady with their reins. They were clearly enjoying themselves, playing their roles to the hilt. There was something very sexy about their restrained and harnessed beauty. Jessica caressed Amber's cheek and tapped her flank with a riding whip. She led the blonde pony forward to an open area by the temple, near the field.

This time, the girls practiced parading. It was not nearly so strenuous as the running had been but Amber found it more difficult in a way. She had to perform exactly for Chandra now, up close where she could see every move Amber made. She walked in a circle around Jessica as the Matron's slave held her reins, raising her knees to her waist. If she didn't do so to Jessica's satisfaction she felt the whip on her legs or hindquarters. The tail plug throbbed inside her. Her handler told her make a neighing noise, and Amber did so, a little embarrassed. She walked around and around until she got it just right, and then walked some more.

The other two, Talia and Natalie, paraded for their handlers as well, and did so with great enthusiasm. Natalie kept straining against her reins so that Amanda had tug repeatedly to keep her in line. The handler left several red marks on Natalie's bottom as she pranced around in a circle. Talia moved with a fluid grace, raising her legs high with smooth, practiced motions. The weights on her boots naturally pulled her forward. She kept her head high and her breasts thrust proudly forward.

“This is how it's done,” said Chandra. Who held her reins. “We'll keep at it until you all get it right.” Amber pranced again and again until the Matron's daughter seemed satisfied. Then the pony slaves were lined up and made to move in unison; this part was particularly important. They had to impress the people they were parading for. Chandra put Talia in the middle and told the other two to follow her lead and copy her movements.

After watching them for a while, Chandra sighed. “We have some work to do,” she said with resignation. They practiced until Amber couldn't think of anything but the clop clop sound their boots made and the rhythm of their steps. The leather thong pressed up against her crotch, preventing the belt from riding up, and it tormented her sex. If she moved too slow, she felt the riding whip sting her back, and if she moved too far forward of the other two, the bit was pressed painfully up against her mouth. Chandra counted a cadence and they followed it; eventually they would have to move together without audible help.

Besides the ponygirls' inexperience, Chandra had another problem: the girls didn't quite match. Natalie and Talia were tall and lean, with shorter hair than Amber, who also had a more rounded figure. It would look more symmetrical to put Amber in the middle, but Talia was much stronger and could pace the other two. She decided to put Amber in the middle only when the girls were parading and hope for the best.

That evening the girls were fed and watered again, and their harnesses were removed. Amber felt relieved—and suddenly empty—when her tail plug was removed. The Matron's twin slaves bathed them and led them back to the stable. Once again Amber's collar was chained to the ring of her stall. She stretched out he legs on the straw mattress and lay down immediately; she was very tired.

“This is going to be exciting,” said Natalie when the girls were alone together for the night.

“Mistress Penelope will look very beautiful, I'm sure,” said Talia.

“Who?” asked Amber.

“Penelope, the princess.”

Amber sat up, stunned. This was the first time she had heard the princess's name.

* * * *

The ponygirls practiced morning, noon and evening for several days. Amber woke up sore every morning; all she could do was run it off during the exercises and wait patiently for her soothing rubdown at night.

On the morning of the festival Penelope came into the stable as the new ponygirls were awakening. She embraced Talia and kissed her forehead, and greeted Natalie as well. When she saw Amber she blanched.

“What are you doing here?”

“They rescued me from prison, and I've been with Keira ever since.”

“She never mentioned you by name,” said Penelope. “I never even saw you, I've been out training every day for almost a week. I'm so sorry; you don't have to so this for me.” She put her arms around Amber's neck.

“There's not much choice now,” said Amber. “Besides, we've been practicing for days, and there's no one to take my place; not that I would ask anyone to.”

“I might be able to get you out of here,” said the Princess.

“Don't worry, I'm fine,” said her former Lady. “Keira treats me well; I'm not miserable here.”

“But are you sure you can do...this?”

“I want to,” said the Lady-in-Waiting. “Let me do it for you, please.”

Penelope gave her another hug and kissed her cheek. Chandra and the twins entered the stable and began to harness the waiting slave girls.

“I'm sure everything will work out for the best,” said Amber.

“I hope so,” said her Princess.

Penelope held the reins gently as they paraded around the village. Amber stepped high as she had practiced and tried to put on a good show. The tail plug filled Amber once again, and the bit rested limp but threatening against her tongue. Everyone in the village seemed to be looking at her, and she felt a surge of pride, though she knew Penelope was the real center of attention. Natalie and Talia tossed their heads enthusiastically, causing Penelope to rein them in from time to time. What they called a carriage was really more of a chariot; an ornate upholstered chair with two wheels balanced and oiled to give as little friction as possible. The ponygirls' bits were connected to one another by short leather straps, thus it was hard to move their heads independently of one another. Their headbands were decorated with colorful plumes and their nipple rings were fitted with small bells that jingled as they ran. Amber was annoyed by the continuous sound.

For the long trip, Amber was hitched to the left of Talia, who was now in the middle, with Natalie on the right. The three girls could pull Penelope's weight with reasonable ease. A real horse would be faster of course, but that wasn't the point. Penelope needed to demonstrate her new tribe's power and importance.

Penelope sat, took the reins and snapped a riding whip against Talia's bottom. The girls took off at a jog, pacing themselves for the journey. Amber's tail flowed behind her, and her chest pressed forward into the wind. She strained against her harness, pulling the carriage behind her. They followed a trail outside the village that went deeper into the island's interior, and Timberwood faded behind them. On and on the path went, winding around hills and under the forest canopy of trees. This was much farther into the wilderness of Lyria than Amber had yet traveled. A cool, refreshing breeze brushed against her and her companions.

They eventually came to a another village, or rather a walled compound, named Blackmount; this settlement more resembled a fort than the place Amber and Keira lived. The gates were opened for them and the ponygirls slowed to a proud walk, raising their knees high in unison. Penelope snapped the riding whip at their legs to keep them from slacking their efforts. Amber's thighs burned from the exertion, but soon she was allowed to stop. The bit pressed cruelly against the roof of her mouth as Penelope pulled back on the ponygirls' reins, though the princess tried to be gentle.

Penelope alighted from her seat and was greeted by the Amazons of the village; clearly they had been expecting her. She wore feathers on her hair and jewelry on her clothing; the Matron had given her a fine tunic and skirt to wear for her visits. They were roasting whole animals over outdoor cooking fires, and long tables were set up where slave girls waited on their Mistresses, bringing them plates of food and jars of wine. Every Amazon settlement was celebrating today.

The Amazons insisted that Penelope eat with them for a while, and she spoke to an elegantly dressed older woman whom Amber guessed was this tribe's Matriarch. They spoke privately for some time; about what Amber could only guess. It seemed serious. There were some gifts exchanged, and after some time Penelope made ready to leave. She had wanted to depart earlier but she could not decline the hospitality offered, and many of the women wanted to speak with her and kept giving her food. Natalie and Talia chomped at their bits and stomped their feet impatiently on the dusty ground. Finally, with many farewells, Penelope sat in her carriage again and snapped the reins.

Amber's legs ached from standing still, and she was glad to be moving again. She began to tire as they continued on their trail, which worried her since she still had a good distance to go, but she did not slacken her pace. She did her best to match Talia, who had been running long distances since she was a young girl and never seemed to tire. Inhale three steps, exhale on the fourth...breathe in three steps, exhale on the fourth...The bit made it awkward to breathe through her mouth. The bells on the girls' nipples jingled annoyingly and made them feel heavy, to Amber at least. She chaffed against the tight leather harness that held her torso erect.

They visited two more places, whose names escaped Amber, and it was much the same as before. Penelope seemed to be a kind of diplomat, or envoy, for her adoptive mother, and spoke to authority figures in each village. This seemed to do with more than just the Amazons' holiday, but the ponygirls had no idea what. At the second village a slave girl was tasked to give the horses water. She unclipped Amber's bit and held a bowl of water for her to drink. Amber lapped it up with her tongue, and the girl cupped her breast admiringly, running her fingers over the smooth skin and patted her head gently.

“Good girl,” the slave said affectionately as she placed the bit back in Amer's mouth. Amber stomped her feet and made a whinnying noise from the back of her throat. She didn't know why; she was not one to draw attention to herself, and was embarrassed to be handled like a dumb animal, especially by this strange young woman. But she couldn't help it. Some part of her wanted the girl's affection, to be called a “pretty pony” by her. It was humiliating but it made her sex swell all the same. The slave girl smiled and pinched Amber's nipple, and gave water to Talia and Natalie. The other two ponygirls tossed their heads playfully.

Everywhere there were Amazons who wanted to speak with Penelope and who embraced her warmly, and she ate a lot; it was difficult to refuse without giving offense. Amber sighed and realized she didn't need to know what was going on; she was a mere slave, a beast of burden like any real pony, and the affairs of her betters were not her concern. All she could do was wait patiently until her Mistress needed her again and hope for some sign of approval from her. Another woman massaged the ponygirls' shoulders as they waited. A long time seemed to pass. It didn't matter. They would wait as long as they had to, without complaint. For their entire stay, the Amazons admired and commented on the beautiful blonde girl harnessed to the carriage. It reminded Amber of why she had agreed to do this; to please her Mistress. She hoped it would be worth it.

It was afternoon by the time they reached the third settlement. This time, the ponies were given the luxury of resting on their knees, for which Amber was grateful. She felt that much of her energy was already spent. She lapped up all the water that was given to her, uncaring that too much might make her cramp. An Amazon rubbed a damp cloth over the ponies' foreheads to wipe of the sweat. Amber's eyes already stung from it. She waited patiently in the afternoon sun. She felt cross from the heat and her exertions; she knew her own Mistress was celebrating back at her home village without her, and probably didn't miss her, she thought resentfully (though this was not, in fact, true). Irritable now, she wanted to snap at Talia to stop moving her head, since the strap that connected their bit rings made her own move as well, but she couldn't speak through her bit and was not allowed to anyway.

The sun was already at the horizon when Penelope finally came back. The village Matriarch here had gifted her with a bundle of flowers and other things that she placed on the seat next to her. The princess embraced her new acquaintances and bid them farewell. Amber and the other two ponies stood up and this time Amber stomped her foot in an impatient, why-can't-we-go-already gesture, dragging a little dust behind her. After Penelope had finally said her last goodbyes they set off again.

Amber suddenly realized she had been too impatient; she was still tired. She didn't have the conditioning the other two girls did, and had to force herself to keep up. It was not necessary to completely retrace their former path; luckily, there was trail that led directly back to Timberwood, their home. But it was a long way, and at about the halfway mark, Amber felt her legs become unstable, like they had turned to jelly. Her breathing was hoarse and ragged. Breathe in three steps...she couldn't count anymore. Her legs were on fire.

“Come on, Amber, you can do it,” said Penelope encouragingly. She couldn't help but notice the blonde ponygirl was struggling. Both of them knew she would be whipped badly at home if the carriage had to stop for her. Next to Amber, Talia bent her head forward and neighed to encourage her on. Amber's breasts heaved; they felt heavy. There was a cramp forming at her side, which she did her best to ignore. The harness rubbed tight against her raw skin, and the tail plug caused a dull, throbbing ache as she moved. Why did I volunteer for this? She thought.

Just as she thought of slowing down, she felt the sharp sting of the whip on her bottom. Before, Penelope couldn't bring herself to use it on her friend, but she knew it was better she do so now than for Chandra to do it later. The Matron's daughter would tan Amber's hide if she failed. The pain gave Amber a jolt and she kept her pace, tired as she was.

“Let's go, just a little further,” said Penelope. Come on, girl, she thought. You can make it. She lashed Amber's backside just enough every now and then to give the ponygirl a start. The blonde haired slave instinctively tried to run away from the bright, sharp pain, keeping up her pace in the process. She clung to that instinct. The torment of fatigue and the whip seemed to go on forever. Amber thought she had always been here, running and panting, kicking up dust from beneath her boots. At last, as the sun was mostly down, their village came into sight. Amber stumbled just a little, and the whip came down on her back again.

“Don't quit on me now,” said the princess. “We're just about home.”

Timberwood loomed closer and closer, until finally they arrived at the town square. Amber stumbled the last few steps and knelt down; whether she was supposed to or not didn't matter. She could no longer stand. Fortunately the other two ponies went down immediately with her or they would have crashed. No one seemed to rebuke her for doing so. Penelope climbed out of her seat and knelt next to Amber, embracing her.

“I knew you could make it,” she smiled. She cradled Amber's bridled head and kissed her brow. The princess then stood to greet the Amazons who came over to see her. Amber breathed raggedly. She could not seem to get enough air. She felt like retching. Only the beam to which she was hitched kept her from falling over. Soon Chandra came by and unfastened them from the carriage. She took the ponygirls' reins without a word and led them back to the stable. Amber saw there were tables set out in the square, just like the others they had visited. Long rows of men and women ate, drank, and joked together. Somewhere someone was playing music.

Back in the stable the harness was removed from Amber for the last time. The straps left deep, lined impressions on her skin. Amber stretched out, grateful at last to be able to move her arms. The tail plug was removed from her with some effort. She had grown accustomed to the sensation of it filling her and felt strangely empty now. She collapsed onto the straw bed, but Chandra ordered her to get up and follow her. Legs still wobbling, Amber and her two companions followed the Matron's daughter to the square, where most of the people were gathered. Amber could smell the aroma of cooked food and was suddenly very hungry. Chandra led her to where Keira sat, and took the other two slave girls to their respective owners.

Keira was laughing and drinking at the table with her friends, ignoring any hurts she had suffered. She smiled when she saw Amber. “Did you do well, pet?” she asked.

“Yes Mistress.”

Keira smiled. “Let's get you something to eat.”

“Oh, thank you Mistress.”

Keira set a plate of food down to her. It was humbling that she could not eat at the table, and that everyone was watching as she bent over, but she devoured what was given her anyway. Keira held out a wine glass for her afterwards, which Amber knelt and sipped from gratefully. Keira stroked Amber's hair.

“Sweet pet,” she mused. “Are you ready to perform for me?”

Amber looked up at her questioningly. Before she could say anything Keira raised her up by the wrists and turned her towards her friends, who greeted the sight of her nude body with enthusiasm.

“Let's see what you're really made of,” said Keira, taunting a large man near her with a smile. Amber thought she recognized Sven, the large Nordic man. The two were well known to each other, Amber gathered, and had been laughing and drinking all afternoon.

“You don't think I can handle her?” the man asked in mock indignation.

Keira laughed. “I didn't think you liked girls,” she said teasingly. The others around her let out an “oooo” sound as the man took Amber roughly. “We'll see about that,” he said. He unfastened his breeches and Amber could see his organ coming out, hardening quickly. He picked up Amber like a rag doll and set her on the table.

“Come on then, sweetie,” he said. “I haven't got all night.” He put a large, meaty hand around the back of the slave girl's neck and pulled her towards his pulsating sex. She resisted instinctively for an instant but Keira rose and gave her a swat on the bottom. She leaned down, head held firmly against the man's loins, and took his cock into her mouth, sucking and tonguing it. She tried not to think of how shameful this was; to only think of pleasing Keira instead. The Amazon's companions gathered around her. She heard someone come up on the table behind her, sweeping wooden dishes aside, and kneel down, taking her hips in his hands. She continued to work Sven's cock, tasting the salty skin and fluids in her mouth. The man behind her unfastened his breeches. He can't penetrate me, can he? She thought, but she already knew the man could do whatever he wanted to her. She felt her anus being fingered open, and realized what he wanted. She thought to protest; her ass was still sore from running with the tail inside it all day. But it had also been stretched from the activity and the man behind her found it wide enough to accommodate his own hard sex.

The immediate sensations around her flooded Amber's frenzied mind: the organ impaling her from behind, the taste of the cock in her mouth, the onlookers cheering around them, Keira smiling silently as she watched. She felt her own sex swell and moisten and was ashamed that everyone would see it, but that thought only made her more aroused. The man behind her grabbed her hips and pounded forward, making her breasts swing back and forth lewdly; they felt heavy and swollen as she thought of how they must look to the crowd. The cock inside her produced pleasurable sensations; she wanted more, and began to moan. The organ in her mouth began to quiver, and soon her face was showered by semen, with more of the thick, salty substance going down her throat. She continued to moan and bucked her hips suggestively as the man behind her continued to thrust, and Amber felt herself building to a climax. The man thrust faster and faster, with more vigor, until they both let out cries of satisfaction. Amber's bosom heaved, and her heavy breathing subsided.

She lay on her on the table, with a dribble of the Sven's cum on the corner of her lips. There was no time to rest. An Amazon, Naomi, took Amber and laid her on her back. Naomi poured wine on her crotch and lapped it up, her tongue brushing Amber's clit roughly. Amber clutched her breasts and arched her back, once again craving satisfaction. She was denied, however, as the Amazon took her hands and pulled her off the table towards a tree where Naomi's sister and slave, Natalie, lay. The slave, eagerly waiting, smiled at her Mistress. Naomi turned Amber around to face her, and bade her kneel down. Amber straddled Natalie's chest, and she felt her fellow slave's tongue penetrate her, entering Amber's eager sex. Naomi raised the festively decorated skirt she wore and raised Amber's head to her legs. Amber saw the neatly trimmed hair of Naomi's pubis and put her tongue against the folds of her labia. She put her tongue eagerly inside the Amazon's sex as far as it would go, and tongued her clit. The button of flesh swelled and Amber sucked on it, sending shivers of pleasure through Naomi. Natalie moved Amber's hips up and down, faster and faster, and Amber could feel a kind of pressure building inside her, the familiar wave of pleasure waiting to be released. After a little while Naomi climaxed, her head back and her eyes closed. Amber came too, soon after. Naomi then ordered Amber to bend her head down to Natalie's sex and pleasure her, while her Mistress watched. The two slave girls brought each other to orgasm while Naomi looked on with satisfaction.

Only then did she come back to Keira, having been thoroughly used and abased. Keira smiled and opened her silk shirt. Amber knelt and suckled greedily on Keira's erect nipple. Her Mistress took her onto her lap and put her hand between Amber's legs. Amber was almost immediately aroused again. Am I some kind of whore? she thought. No, a slave. She realized she almost didn't care who used her or how many people saw her being used anymore. All she seemed to care about was the sensation between her legs, of her swollen nether lips that cried out for more. Keira stuck her fingers inside Amber's sex and the blonde slave moaned loudly.

Keira left Amber chained to a marble column, arms behind her and legs apart, like a decorative statue for everyone to admire, after wiping the juices and semen from her face. Amber saw she was not alone in this; other slave girls were similarly positioned around the town square, displayed as trophies by their Mistresses. Where exactly Keira had gone to, Amber couldn't tell. The cold stone pressed uncomfortably against her back. From time to time free men and women came up to her and caressed her; often they pinched her cheeks, her nipples, or even felt between her legs. They would smile and tell her how lovely she was; they must have thought they were showing her great favor. Amber blushed but made no sound. The other slave girls received similar attention. She relaxed and resigned herself to her fate, her head dropping wearily from the day's labor. She couldn't bring herself to look her admirers in the eye.

She saw the Amazons and their companions drinking and dancing, and longingly wished she could join in. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she had last danced with a handsome young man in Avalonia. Some of the slave girls performed for the audience; Amber saw Claire dancing seductively on a platform for a cheering crowd. Her Mistress, the young Dawn, snapped a whip at her ankles to encourage her if she thought her slave was not being sensual enough. Amber blushed for her fellow slave, but Claire managed to keep a graceful smile devoid of shame on her face throughout the whole ordeal.

The Matriarch Sheila led her own twin slave girls around the square, greeting all the revelers warmly. The twins carried trays with food and drinks for the guests. A pair of small clamps hung from each girl's nipple, connected by a thin chain, and the Matron led them by a lead attached to it. The twins looked radiant, with oiled skin, skillfully applied makeup and perfume. They smiled gaily as they followed their Mistress and served the men and Amazons, flirting openly with the ones who paid them compliments. Amber, chained to the column as she was, felt some envy for them.

She saw another slave girl, however, that she definitely did not envy—this girl was blindfolded, on her knees, with her Mistress standing a ways behind her, holding the lead of her collar in one hand and a riding crop in the other. Several men stood around the girl, trousers pulled down, to Amber's shock. The girl had to feel around for them and take their cocks into her mouth, sucking all of them until they came; if she hesitated her Mistress would smack her backside with the crop. The men teased the slave girl playfully and cheered her on. Her efforts never seemed to be enough; her Mistress slapped the crop against the slave's bare skin again and again. The poor slave girl never sobbed or complained, however. Amber shuddered. She had overcome much of her shame in her time in Lyria, but she wasn't sure she could do that.

From the corner of her eye she could see Belle and Chandra. The young pet slave was jumping through hoops for Chandra's friends. Amber knew Belle must be deeply embarrassed; as much as the young slave girl enjoyed being Chandra's pet, she preferred to keep their games private. Her Mistress held a short whip in her hand, however, and tolerated no hesitation from her slave. Her friends clapped

each time Belle did a “trick” for them; the teenage slave had to roll over for them, baring her shaved pussy, and brought back balls that Chandra tossed. Chandra clipped a leash to Belle's collar and made her sit up on a table, mittens raised and tongue hanging out, like an animal. She turned around for Chandra, displaying herself to the crowd, and they clapped again. Chandra held out some sweet in her hand, and the young blonde lapped it up eagerly, happy to have pleased her Mistress.

A part of Amber wanted to be out there, performing for the crowd, showing herself off for their pleasure. The thought scared her but it also excited her terribly. Making love in front of the others had produced a thrill in her, unlike anything she had felt before. The breaking of the old taboos had been liberating; she could abandon herself to the pleasure and not worry about the consequences.

One slave girl, at least, was visibly unhappy—or at least nervous, unlike most of the others who had been trained to please and were glad to do so. She was kneeling on a raised platform, arms raised at each side, her wrists chained to two posts next to her. She was carefully made up and perfumed, her straight dark hair combed neatly behind her. A single braid circled the top of her head, decorated with flowers. Her sex was shaved except for a short, thin row of hair just above her pubis. In an open area in front of her, Amazons wrestled with one another or dueled with practice weapons. Amber had seen Amazons compete with one another before and wasn't surprised at how rough it seemed. She wondered what the brunette slave girl was doing nearby. She seemed apprehensive and was watching the competition intently.

As Amber watched the spectacle around her, her eyes grew heavier and heavier until she seemed to doze off where she stood. Some indeterminate amount of time later she snapped back to consciousness as she felt her wrists and ankles released from the column behind her. She smiled to see her Mistress again, and dropped to kiss her feet affectionately.

Keira's wrist hung in an improvised sling, and her face bore a couple of bruises.

“Are you hurt, Mistress?” asked Amber with concern.

Keira only smiled. “Just some friendly competition, dear. Let's sit down for a bit.”

Keira lay back comfortably on a chair, leaning back, her feet resting on the table. She looked up at the passing stars, drowsy from a long night. Her naked blonde slave curled up in her lap, arms around her Mistress's neck, head resting against Keira's bosom. Amber wearily drifted in and out of a dreamy haze. She thought of the pony carriage, the Amazon villages, the men who had so roughly taken her, and how she had loved it. The fact that she loved it should have bothered her, she thought, but for some reason it didn't. All that mattered was that she was in her Mistress's arms. She felt any humiliation was worth that.

She looked around and saw Naomi sitting cross legged, her slave Natalie resting against her head between Naomi's breasts. Naomi massaged Natalie's breasts and dropped pieces of fruit into her enslaved sister's upturned mouth. There was always affection between them, Amber saw, even though Naomi had to punish her sister fairly often. She saw Belle curled up on a table, sleeping, her leash trailing off the end of the table. Her Mistress, Chandra, came and awoke her gently, took her leash in hand, and led her home. Belle eagerly crawled after her. And then there was that dark haired girl again, sitting next to Keira on the ground, her head bowed. Who was she? She was obviously a slave, as she was nude and wore a collar and cuffs. Amber noted there was a lead attached, and that Keira held the end in her hand.

Dawn walked up to her sister. “I can't believe you beat Chandra,” she said. “I'm impressed.”

“It had to happen someday,” said Keira with a smile.

“Congratulations on your new slave,” said Dawn. “She's rather pretty.”

“She really is, isn't she?” said Keira, stroking the brunette girl's hair.

“Wha...” Amber mumbled before she dozed off.

* * * *

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 12: The New Slave

Lydia knelt on the floor in front of the comforting glow of the fireplace. The evening was cooling and she was glad for the warmth. She kept her hands behind her neck and her knees apart so that her Mistress could have a good look at her. She had a healthy, slender figure with perky breasts and long, silky legs. Her face was conventionally pretty; it was oval shaped with deep hazel eyes and inviting lips that were wider than Amber's. Her dimples went deep when she smiled and her face had an earnestness that Keira found endearing. Her long, straight black hair went a ways past her shoulders, framing her expressive face.

“I've decided to keep you, so this will be your new home,” said her new Amazon owner.

“Thank you, Mistress Keira.” Her voice was higher than Keira's, and a touch more feminine.

“Go upstairs and sit next to Amber; I'll come and begin your training in a moment.”

Lydia went up to the bedchamber and found Amber sitting on her knees, legs apart, her hands resting on her legs. To Lydia she looked impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” said Lydia quietly, with a friendly smile.

Amber looked at her neutrally. “We shouldn't speak,” said the blonde haired slave.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Lydia softly. “I just wanted to meet you.” She introduced herself, and Amber gave her own name. She did not make eye contact with the new slave girl. She noted that Lydia had two small brands on the back of her shoulder. She must have belonged to another Amazon before coming here, Amber thought.

Presently Keira came upstairs. The young women heard the sound of her boots against the wooden stairs and fell silent. Keira smiled casually at her two nude, kneeling slaves and stripped down to her halter top, with only her sash around her waist. She took Lydia by the arm and stood her up, leading her over to an X frame against the wall. There were two such frames now; one for each slave girl. She turned the brunette around so her back was against it, and raised her arms over her head. She clipped Lydia's wrist restraints to the upper ends, outstretching her arms, and her ankles to the two lower ends. The slave was spread eagled now, her body totally exposed.

As Amber watched Lydia's training begin she felt a twinge of jealousy. She did not want another slave competing for her Mistress's time and attention. She saw Keira take a flogger from her shelf and begin whipping Lydia's torso repeatedly, not very hard but enough to make her moan and yelp occasionally. Keira struck the whip across Lydia's stomach and legs, and then her breasts, which drew a small cry from the chained girl. The Amazon caressed her body, tracing the soft curve of Lydia's hips, and felt down to her sex. She was a little moist. Keira smiled.

“Stick your pussy out,” she ordered.

Lydia arched her back against the wall and lowered herself as much as she could, thrusting her pelvis forward. Keira swung the flogger in a pinwheel motion, striking Lydia's sex again and again. The captive brunette winced and moaned nervously. Amber saw that, through all of this, Lydia looked terrified. Why, she wondered? Keira was only trying to get her aroused; she wasn't hitting her very hard. Had Amber been in Lydia's place she would have been smiling. With another jealous twinge she realized she very much wanted to be in Lydia's place.

“Amber, come here and give Lydia some attention,” Keira ordered. Amber obeyed and went over to where Lydia stood chained, and knelt in front of her. She licked her hands and rubbed Lydia's pussy vigorously. There was only a small patch of hair above Lydia's pubis. Amber put her mouth to the other slave's sex and pressed her tongue firmly against the moist folds of her labia, tasting the smooth, bare skin. She began to lick her more vigorously, and Lydia reacted by bucking her hips and sighing heavily, very aroused now. As she did so, Keira flogged Lydia's breasts again, harder this time. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut, moaning in pleasure and pain at the same time. She still seemed nervous, but Amber's attentions appeared to calm her a bit. The flogger made a thick slapping sound as the ends collided against Lydia's bare skin. The chained slave sighed and stuck out her hips as far as she could, pressing against Amber's mouth. Amber sucked on the folds of Lydia's soft nether lips, and felt the girl's clit with her tongue. She sucked the button as far into her mouth as she could and released it, letting pass over tongue, lips and gently over her teeth. Lydia squealed in pleasure as the tingling sensation brushed over her clit. Keira paused occasionally to suck at the slave's nipple.

“That's enough for now,” she said after Lydia's breathing reached a high, fevered pitch. Amber drew back and cast her eyes to the floor again, waiting obediently. Lydia was sweating and panting heavily. Her fear only heightened the pleasure she had received from the other two women. She looked at Keira with nervous anticipation. Keira unchained her wrists and ankles and turned her to face the wall, then chained her again as before. She began to flog Lydia's backside now. The brunette closed her eyes and tensed, not knowing when the next blow would strike. Keira casually whipped her back, bottom and legs. Lydia was still wet with craving; Amber could see the moisture glistening between her legs. Keira swung the flogger upward to lick the cleft of Lydia's pussy. The helpless slave shuddered and moaned in response. Amber very much wanted to take her place.

“Come here again, Amber,” said her Mistress. Amber rose and walked over to Keira. The Amazon motioned for her to duck down under Lydia's arms and stand between the chained slave and the wall. “Show your affection to your fellow slave.” Amber gazed at Lydia. Her lips were eminently kissable, she thought. She put her arms around the brunette's neck and put her mouth to hers, pushing her tongue across Lydia's lips. She moved her hands down and caressed Lydia's inviting breasts, cupping them in her hands and gently squeezing the nipples.

As Amber did this Keira continued to flog Lydia from behind. Lydia kept her eyes shut tight and kissed Amber's neck, burying her head in Amber's long golden hair. She arched her head back as Amber knelt a little and suckled her breasts greedily. Keira slapped the flogger languidly, not really trying to inflict serious pain. Lydia was very much aroused now; Amber could feel her swollen sex and the moisture coming from it. She knelt and kissed the girl's labia again, tonguing the tip of her clit. Lydia bowed her head forward, bit her lip and began to moan with excitement.

Once again, her breathing reached a high pitch and Keira told Amber to stop. The Mistress then took her blonde slave girl and turned her to face an X frame on the wall next to Lydia, her arms raised over her head against the wall and feet spread apart. Keira then chained Amber just as she had chained Lydia. The two girls stood side by side, arms and legs spread apart. Keira gave Amber's backside a few hard strokes of her flogger. The blonde slave gasped each time, feeling her sex throbbing and becoming more moist. Keira whipped both girls alternately, much harder this time than before. Amber turned her head and could see that Lydia was frightened again. The brunette gasped and squealed nervously each time she was hit. She leaned her head against the wall and shut her eyes.

Keira flogged both girls mercilessly now, and Amber cried out in pain. Large red welts formed on her bottom and back. Lydia's eyes began to well with tears. Each time the girls were hit, their hips swung forward, and Keira had to order them to stick their asses out as far as they could. Neither girl dared to disobey. Amber felt the whips lick her sex, caused a stinging pain but also arousing the desire inside her. She pushed her hindquarters back further, as if to invite more. Finally the torment stopped. Lydia sobbed pitifully, and Keira stroked her hair and kissed her cheek to comfort her. She released the two girls and ordered them to sit facing each other on the floor.

“I want you two to press against each other, at the waist,” the Amazon said. Amber understood; she put her sore bottom on the floor and Lydia did the same. Amber spread her legs and intertwined them with Lydia's, in a scissors-like motion, and pressed her sex against her fellow slave's. Like her own, Lydia's pussy was wet and sensitive, and the rubbing motion against Amber's caused both girls to sigh with pleasure.

“That's it,” said Keira. “You may show your appreciation for one another.” Lydia cupped Amber's breast in one hand and steadied herself with the other, tilting her head back and breathing heavily, her bosom rising and falling quickly. Keira put away the flogger and got out a short whip. Amber knew it would sting badly. Circling the two slaves like a bird of prey, Keira began to apply strokes to their backs.

“Oww,” yelped Amber as the hated instrument bit her skin. Keira then did the same to Lydia. The whip licked Amber's breast next, and the blonde let out a soft, pitiful moan. Keira continued to circle them, keeping them guessing as to where she would strike next. Amber felt the sting on her shoulder and lower back; Lydia was given the same treatment. The sharp pains of the whip only seemed to intensify the sensations of pleasure that tingled between the girls' legs. Amber felt the little waves resonate through her body, sending shivers up her spine, each time Lydia ground her sex against hers. As Keira continued to lash them, both girls closed their eyes and winced, their heads tossed back, their mouths open as they gasped deeply.

“All right, that's enough for now,” said Keira. The girls were desperate for a climax, to satisfy that all-powerful urge they felt, but Keira forcibly separated them before they could. They sat on their knees again, side by side, legs apart, hands behind their necks this time.

“Now, what must a slave do before she climaxes?” asked Keira.

“Please Mistress, may I come?” asked Amber. She felt little shame when abasing herself before Keira. The hunger between her legs was all that mattered now. Keira looked at Lydia pointedly, and the new slave asked the same thing, in a more subdued tone.

“Bend over,” ordered Keira. “Touch your heads to the floor. Keep your hands behind your necks.” Amber obeyed, feeling the uncomfortable wooden floor against the tips of her breasts and forehead. She remained still and heard Keira hang her whip on a hook on the opposite wall, and pick something else up from her shelf. She felt something long, hard and thin against her bottom, and knew it was a cane. Lydia whimpered a little before she was even struck. The cane was long enough to hit them both with a sharp sting. Amber moaned and shuddered as the hot pain seared her skin; this was probably the implement she liked least of all. She imagined a long red stripe on her bottom. Keira struck them a few more times. The girls started and struggled to maintain their poise. Lydia's tears hit the floor soon after they welled from her eyes. She was trying not to cry out as the vicious rod struck her bottom; instead she let out a squealing, strangled sound each time. Amber winced as the she felt another merciless stroke. Lydia was hit again and began to sob quietly. The cane struck her hip, leaving a bright red stripe. Keira struck a few more times and paused to review her handiwork, and decided it was sufficient.

“You can get up now,” she told her slaves.

Teary eyed, the girls resumed their earlier kneeling position, hands behind their necks.

“Would you like to climax with each other now?” their Mistress asked. Both girls answered “Yes, Mistress” in unison. Keira gave her permission, and Amber shifted herself to rub against Lydia as before. The unyielding floor pressed against the welts on her bottom, and Amber winced in discomfort, but she was grateful to Keira. She held Lydia's shoulder and pressed her moist pussy against the other girl's. It didn't take long to feel the pressure building again, the warm tingling that hastened her breathing and made her break out in sweat. Lydia fondled Amber's breasts, rubbing the nipple between her fingers. Amber wondered that so much sensation could originate from such a small spot. Finally, Amber felt the blessed relief of her orgasm wash through her, and Lydia felt the same soon afterwards. Panting, the girls leaned forward and braced each other out of weariness.

“Not bad,” said Keira, who began to prepare for bed. “We'll continue your training tomorrow.”

The single object of all these exercises was for the slave girls to associate pleasure and pain together. Amber had already learned to do this, and Keira thought Lydia had much promise.

The next morning, Amber showed Lydia where all the ceramic plates and cooking where was kept, and how to make breakfast. After they had served Keira, they were given their own plates on the floor to eat from, and did so gratefully. After Keira left for her day's work, Amber got out a pair of large brushes and showed Lydia how to clean the floor. They swept upstairs and downstairs for the rest of the morning. When a Mistress said she wanted a floor clean enough to eat off of, she meant it literally; slave girls sometimes had to eat food directly from the same surface they washed.

“Were you owned by someone else before coming here?” Amber asked her.

“Yes,” said Lydia. “But my Mistress had to sell me.” She was saddened and a little distressed to speak of her former owner, so Amber did not question her further about it.

“You can't...go back?” Amber asked.

“My first Mistress, well...” Lydia shuddered and changed the subject. “I come from Greymoon; you probably haven't heard of it; it's a small city-state far to the west. I'm here as a tribute.”

“My home is—was—Avalonia,” said Amber. “I was handmaiden to a princess.”

“Oh, that must be so glamorous. Are you happy here?” Lydia asked her.

“I like Mistress Keira very much,” said Amber. “I miss my mother, I suppose, but I try not to think of home much.”

“I'm glad to hear you like her,” said Lydia.

“You seem frightened when Keira trains you,” said Amber. “You needn't worry, you can trust her.”

“Yes, it didn't hurt so badly,” said Lydia. “It's just...hard to trust again.”

She didn't seem to want to elaborate, so Amber didn't press Lydia further about her past.

Finally, they finished sweeping and polishing the floors. They put the brooms and brushes away, and Amber led Lydia outside.

“Where are we going?” asked the brunette.

“We have to clean up after the festival,” said Amber. “The others are probably there already.”

There were dishes and empty wine jars everywhere. Various slave girls dutifully carried away the tables and gathered all the leftovers from the Solstice festival. They chatted in low voices when no one else was around to hear them. It was already noon when Amber and Lydia arrived, and there was still a good deal of work to do. They met Natalie, who helped the girls carry a heavy casket of ale.

“Welcome to Timberwood,” said Natalie to the new arrival. “We have the fiercest warriors and the prettiest slave girls, as you can see for yourself.” She winked at Amber, who laughed politely.

“Wasn't last night marvelous?” Natalie asked.

Amber remembered the activities of the previous night and could only blush deeply.

“You were quite wonderful,” said Natalie, and Amber looked away shyly. “There's no need to be ashamed,” she said. “You seemed to enjoy yourself thoroughly.”

“Yes, I suppose I did,” said Amber quietly. “I've never done anything quite like that before.”

They put away the cask and Natalie saw a wine jar that was almost but not quite empty. Her eyes darted around to see if anyone else was watching and she gulped down the remainder of the wine in the jar, licking her lips in satisfaction.

“I...I don't think we're supposed to do that,” said Lydia nervously.

Natalie flashed her a perfectly innocent smile.

“It would be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn't it?” said the mischievous slave girl.

Lydia looked at Amber, who merely shrugged.

“Well, I wouldn't risk it,” said Lydia.

“My Mistress thinks Amber's a good influence on me,” said Natalie to Lydia with a smile. “'Oh, why can't you be more like her? She's so obedient,' she says.”

Amber blushed even redder. “I just try not to get into trouble,” she said.

She gathered up several wine jars, some not yet empty, and carried them over to a wheelbarrow. Next to it rested the Matriarch's carriage; Sheila's twin slave girls were unhitched and helping with the cleanup as well. The twins carried a stack of glass planes—windows, Lydia saw—and laid them carefully in the carriage seat.

Lydia gathered as much as she could, and Amber went her own way. There were so many jars, mostly empty; these Amazons could drink anyone under the table, she thought. The slave girls sometimes chatted in low voices, but kept quiet around any Amazons who were supervising them. Amber avoided Lydia, who wondered if the blonde slave was angry at her for some reason. Wanting to please the local Amazons with her work ethic, Lydia gathered as many of the heavy jars as she could and moved quickly, only to lose her balance...

Suddenly there was a slip and a shattering sound.

“Oh no--” Lydia gasped and raised her hands to her mouth in horror. Amber heard it and turned her head to see what had happened. Several wine jars, some not empty, had fallen onto the leather carriage seat, and onto the stacked glass squares. The Matron had purchased the new windows for her home. Amber felt sorry for the new slave girl; the Matron would be very angry with her. Glass was hard to make, requiring the work of skilled artisans, and it was not cheap or easy to come by. She set down the vessels she carried into the wheelbarrow and walked to Lydia, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It's all right,” she said softly her. “She'll be mad, but it's not fatal.”

“Oh...I think it is,” said Lydia, as tears welled up in her eyes. “She's going to kill me.”

“She can't do that,” said Amber. “No matter how angry--”

“You don't understand,” said Lydia in an anguished whisper. “She's really going to kill me. This was my last chance, and she'll think I did it on purpose, to rebel.” Lydia's eyes pleaded desperately with Amber as tears streaked her lovely face. Amber heard someone coming behind her. Several slave girls turned their heads to see what had happened, but they kept working lest the Matron scold them as she approached. Amber saw that Lydia was truly terrified, whether such fear was justified or not. She seemed ready to try and run away. Before the frightened slave girl could do anything rash, Amber walked over to the Matron, who stopped to look at her warily, and knelt down.

“I'm sorry, Matron, I broke the windows that were in your carriage,” she said in the most humblest, most apologetic voice she could muster. “It was an accident; it won't happen again.”

For a brief moment, a storm cloud of anger darkened the Matron's face. She was not given to bursts of rage, however, and composed herself quickly. Her cold stare sent chills down Amber's spine.

“I expected better from you, Amber,” said the matriarch sternly. “Perhaps we have been too lax in your discipline.” Before Amber could say anything else, the Matron grabbed her wrist firmly and led her away. As they departed, she ordered the nearby girls to clean up the carriage seat as best they could, and sweep away the broken glass lest they step on it. Lydia was speechless. Before she could regain her composure, Amber and Sheila were gone.

Without saying a word the whole time, Sheila walked Amber her past Keira's home, to the Matron's own stone temple. The silence seemed to grow thicker and thicker, until Amber felt strangled by it. She wished Sheila would say something to her—anything, no matter how harsh—to break the awful gloom. She wanted to plead, but forced herself not to; it would probably only get her into more trouble. She felt as though it really was she who had ruined the carriage, and she hung her head a little as they walked, trying not to sob audibly. Some part of her hoped the Matron could at least see how sorry she was. Why had she stood up for Lydia? She regretted doing so almost immediately, and was tempted to blurt out the truth, but Lydia's horrified face remained clear in her memory. Besides, she thought, Sheila wouldn't be too happy to know she had lied directly to her; that was a significant offense in itself. She might as well face the punishment.

The Matron personally dragged her upstairs and pushed her into a small room along the corridor. There was a small cot to rest on and a space where she could relieve herself, and that was all. Sheila clipped Amber's wrist cuffs to her collar so that she could have no pleasure while she languished in the cell. Amber sat on the cot and looked up at the Matron with a pitiful expression; Sheila seemed unmoved.

“I'll come back for you this evening,” she said coldly. She closed the door and bolted it on the outside. Amber put her elbows on her knees, resting her head in her hands. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. What have I done?, she thought.

Amber was laying on her side, half asleep, with dry tear streaks on her face when she heard the creek of the door opening, casting a wide square of warm torchlight into her cell. Chandra entered and grabbed her tightly by the arm. She led her down the ominous corridor to a flight of stairs, then down another, to a floor below the ground. Amber had never been in this area of the temple before. She saw it was a real dungeon, with cold stone walls and strange, frightening looking furniture, all upholstered in black. Rings and chains hung from the walls. There were many candles that made the room glow intermittently, and the shadows of the furniture made frightening shapes in the flickering light.

Amber's wrists were unclipped and Chandra pushed her wordlessly forward, towards the Matron, who sat in a chair at the room's only table, waiting. She was reading some piece of paper. She thanked Chandra, who then left, and went back to reading, ignoring Amber for a moment. The trembling blonde went to her knees and sat on her heels, hands resting on her thighs, head bowed. Whatever the Matron wanted with her, she thought, she would do in her own time; there was no point in speaking out and drawing her anger. Sheila wore a kind of leather jerkin that hugged her torso tightly and left her midriff bare. She kept herself in excellent shape, and her waist and hips were slender and well proportioned. Around her waist was a leather skirt, and her boots came up to her knees. A pair of matching leather gloves were laced up to her elbows. She was quite tall, with the same dark hair as her daughter Chandra. Her face was handsome, with few wrinkles, but her expression was cold. After an interminably long pause, Sheila sighed, folded the paper and put it aside. She put out the candles on her table.

“Such a waste,” she said. “I shall have to pay for more windows, at no small expense. You know, a fine set of ornate stained glass windows is worth more than a naughty slave girl.”

Amber gulped and said nothing. Sheila's voice was calm and deliberate.

“I find it curious,” the Matron continued, “That it should be you who broke my property. I have seen you for a while now, and have never noted you to be clumsy. Indeed, I've always thought you carried yourself with a certain grace that many other slave girls lack. Yet you behave so carelessly now. Are you sure you told me everything that happened? If you have more to add, now is the time.”

The matron stared down at Amber haughtily from where she sat, cross-legged in her chair. Her eyes seemed to pierce her. Amber thought she understood: The Matron knew, or at least strongly suspected, that Amber hadn't shattered the valuable windows. She was giving her an out--at least a partial one. But Amber thought of how terrified Lydia had been, and decided she didn't want the new slave girl to have to come before the Matron like this.

“It was my fault,” she said, “And mine alone, Matron. Please, I'm so, so sorry--”

“Yes, yes, I'm sure you are,” the Matron cut her off. “What's done is done. We'll see to your punishment now.” The Matron rose and took Amber by the wrist. She seemed to tower over the helpless slave girl. The Amazon matriarch's grip was like a vise. Amber was led over to a polished, horizontal wooden beam, supported by a pair of diagonal legs at each end.

“Have you ever worked with one of these before?” asked the Matron.

“A sawhorse?” asked Amber nervously. “No, Mistress.”

“H'm. I suppose not,” said Sheila. “You don't seem like the type for useful, practical labor, do you? Well, since you had trouble keeping your balance today, we'll work on that first. Put your leg over the bar. Face the doorway.”

Amber complied meekly, raising her leg up to straddle the bar. She felt a faint flush of shame to have to spread her legs so lewdly, but it passed. The bar wedged itself under her crotch and between her buttocks somewhat. Her legs dangled a few inches off the ground. Amber noted a suspended spreader bar over her head; she had seen many of those by now and was not surprised when Sheila took her wrists over her head and locked them to each end of it. The Matron then took a short length of chain and used it to connect Amber's wrist cuffs close together, to prevent her from raising her legs above the bar.

Sheila stepped back, looking the helpless slave girl over, as if to check her handiwork, and gave a satisfied sigh. “I'll be back in a while to check on you,” she said. “You can think about what you did until then.” She walked out of the room and closed the heavy wooden door behind her. Amber heard a bolt shut.

What was the point of this, Amber wondered? Was her punishment simply to wait here, bored, in this eerie room? She had already done that. What did the Matron have in mind for her? Then, it dawned on her. The narrow, wooden beam pressed right against her pelvic bone, between the lips of her sex, and there was no way she could get comfortable. She wiggled and squirmed a bit, trying to shift her weight, without much luck. It was like sitting on a hard surface until your bottom was sore, but much worse. Her crotch began to ache. She could lift herself up a little, for a moment, to try and relieve the pain, but that was all. It hurt even more when she tried to raise her legs.

A long time passed. Amber tried desperately to keep her mind off the throbbing pain of her most tender area. She missed Keira's loving embrace, and would have gladly submitted to one of Keira's training sessions instead of this. This wasn't “training,” Amber realized; the Matron wasn't going to lecture her about how she should take pleasure in this. No, she was going to make this as painful as she could for its own sake.

More time passed... Amber began to grow very bored, in addition to unbearably uncomfortable, and she knew boredom would only make the time pass slower. She silently cursed Lydia, that black haired wretch of a girl whom she barely knew. She wasn't going to take any more punishments on her behalf, that was for certain, and she began to curse herself for even doing it this once.

The aching of her crotch grew more insistent, and after a seemingly short time she didn't think she could take it any more. She raised herself up a little to relieve the pain. She wasn't particularly strong, and soon her arms and back ached as well. She felt droplets of sweat forming on her back. She whimpered, and thought she might break out into sobs soon.

More time passed... Amber felt like she had been here forever; she had no idea how much time had passed. A couple of tears ran down her cheeks. She wished the Matron would return and find some other way to punish her. Anything had to be better than this. She thought again and decided that probably wasn't true, but in her present condition she would be willing to risk it. The ache between her legs screamed at her. A few pitiful sobs could be heard in the dungeon. Amber leaned forward as far as she could, to ease her sore skin somewhat, and bowed her head, resigned to the pain.

Some time later—how much, Amber could only guess—she heard the door open again. The Matron appeared, sipping from a chalice she held as she casually walked in. She put the goblet down on the table and put a hand on her hip, gazing at poor Amber. The slave girl had clearly been crying, and now looked at her tormentor pleadingly.

“Now,” the Matron said imperiously, “How many lashes do you think you deserve before I let you down, hmm?” Sheila's voice was calm, and a touch condescending, but there was an unmistakable tone of authority in it as well.

Amber shook her head. “I don't know, Mistress,” she said quietly, disheartened to learn that she would not be released just yet.

“You want me to choose, then?”

“Whatever you want, Mistress,” said Amber, sobbing a little. Why was the Matron asking her? It seemed to be another way to torment her.

“Very well, then.” Sheila took a short single-tailed whip from a hook on the wall and snapped it in the air. Amber heard the sharp hiss and snap. She knew it wasn't as bad as a full length bull whip, but it would certainly sting. Sheila held up the handle to Amber's mouth and the bound slave understood she was meant to kiss it, and did so. Sheila then stepped back behind her, pacing back and forth casually. Her boots made a heavy, ominous sound against the stone floor.

Snap! “Oww!” Amber cried as the whip licked he back of her shoulder. The only relief was that it diverted her attention from her aching crotch. Two more snaps came down on Amber's hips, at each side, making her squirm and grind her crotch painfully against the wooden beam.

Sheila proceeded to whip Amber's upper and lower backside, hard enough to leave visible stripes each time. Amber cried out in pain, sobbing in earnest now. She counted perhaps ten and then there was a pause as Sheila walked around to the other side of her. The Matron wasn't done with her yet.

Snap! “Aaaahh!” The tip of the cruel whip stung her breast, right on the nipple. The sharp, biting pain lingered a long time. Amber looked pleadingly at Sheila through teary, blurred eyes. A few more strokes landed on her stomach, each leaving a fresh welt on her pale, vulnerable skin. After that Sheila stepped back, hand under her chin, and looked at Amber for a moment. She seemed to pace around Amber casually, with no sense of urgency, as if to torment the helpless slave who was desperate to be released from the sawhorse. Finally, after a few more lashes, Sheila set the whip down and unclipped the chain from the slave girl's ankle cuffs, and then released her wrists from the bar over her. She held amber in her arms as the girl weakly pulled her leg back over the bar. Amber's legs felt like jelly when she stood again, but she was eternally grateful to be released from her torment.

“Straighten you hair out, girl,” said Sheila. “Wipe up your face.” She spoke to Amber like a mother would to a fidgeting daughter. Amber did the best she could. “Now,” said the Matron, “Go bring the cane hanging from the wall over there.”

After having barely enough time to gather herself and stop the flow of tears, Amber meekly complied with the order. She held the cane with both hands, carefully, like it was some dangerous snake.

“Set it on the ground,” said Sheila. Amber did so. “Now, get down, and put your knuckles on it.” Wondering what this new ordeal entailed, Amber knelt put the front of her fingers against the hard leather rod. “Straighten your legs,” ordered Sheila. “Raise your ass in the air...higher...legs together, completely straight. Like that. Now, I'm going to administer some strokes on your backside. If you move your legs down at any time, you will be put back on the sawhorse for another ten minutes. Do you understand?”

Amber whimpered yes. The Matron's voice had such a firm, intimidating tone; she did not think herself capable of refusing. She was completely in the woman's power. In her current position, all her weight was supported by the balls of her feet and her poor knuckles, which were pressed against the cane on the ground. Already her fingers ached as badly as her crotch had on the sawhorse. She bowed her head and braced for the inevitable.

Slap! “Ooohh!” She wailed. She bottom was sore from the horse still, and the whip inflamed the throbbing she already felt there. More lashes licked the back of her legs and thighs—any place she hadn't been whipped while on the wooden beam. Sharp, bright stings assaulted her senses. Tears flowed freely to the ground, where they made audible little splashes.

Smack! “Ooooowwww...” She raised her head, wincing from the pain after a particularly vicious stroke licked her ass.

“Don't you dare move,” the Matron warned.

Amber shook all over. Her fingers were screaming in pain. Her legs felt weak; her knees threatened to buckle. She summoned all her will, all her concentration, to hold her place, but she was afraid her quivering legs would betray her. Her whole backside was on fire. She lost count of how many lashes Sheila had given her.

Smack! “Nnnnhh!” Amber kept her mouth closed, biting her lip, as though to channel the excess of pain somewhere. A couple more strokes followed, but she thought this was the pinnacle; more lashed could prolong the pain but not increase it. She saw her knees shaking involuntarily. She wailed as another cruel sting bit her back sharply. Finally, when Amber thought she couldn't take anymore, and therefore had nothing to lose, she gave in.

“Mercy,” she cried out. There was a pause. Amber became deathly frightened. Would the Matron be angrier at her for trying to beg off her punishment?

“What was that?” asked Sheila. Her voice was quiet, and there was a deadly seriousness to her tone. Amber let herself go, and sobbed uncontrollably. Still, to her credit, she held her position.

“Please, I can't...I can't take anymore,” she said through her tears. “Have mercy.”

Sheila, quite unexpectedly, knelt down next to her. She placed her thigh under Amber's arched belly, supporting the quivering blonde. The Matron stroked her hair, pulling it back from her face.

“Amber,” she said softly, “Do you think you can take two more lashes? That will complete your penance; afterwards you may rest.”

Amber winced and nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Very good.” Sheila didn't move from her position; instead she continued to support Amber's torso with her knee. She raised her right arm and struck Amber's raised bottom with a calculated blow. Amber winced and quivered, but with her stomach resting on Sheila's leg it wasn't quite so bad. The blonde slave straightened herself as best she could to receive the next blow. The cane felt like it was pressing directly against the bone of her fingers, and she cried out. The final stroke of the whip caressed her backside with its cruel bite, and Sheila helped Amber stand again.

“Ooohh...” Amber blew on her poor fingers and tucked them under her armpits in an attempt to ease the throbbing pain. Then, almost reflexively, she knelt down and kissed Sheila's feet. The Matron was staring at her with some fascination. She sat down at the table and ordered Amber to put the cane and the whip back on their hooks. Amber did so and returned to kneel in front of Sheila, eyes cast down respectfully. The Matron wiped Amber's tears away softy, and brushed her hair back.

“I'm going to give you a choice, Amber,” she said. Amber nodded humbly and looked up at the tall, imposing Amazon. “Keira has given you to me until tomorrow, for your punishment. That part is now over. You can have the rest of the evening free to yourself if you wish. Or, you can spend it waiting on me, in my service. It's up to you.” It was that calm, commanding voice again. Amber felt seduced by it.

Amber naturally treasured any free time she was given, but now something deeper stirred inside her. The Matron radiated such power and authority; Amber felt she was somehow meant to serve her. Her presence commanded more respect and fear than Keira or even Chandra. Amber was frightened and drawn to her at the same time.

“I want to serve you tonight, Matron,” said Amber.

“You really wish to?”

“Yes, please, Mistress.” Perhaps Amber was feeling adventurous and wanted to get to know this intriguing woman better; or perhaps she thought, this was simply the way it was meant to be.

“Good, then,” said the Matron. “Come here and bend over on my lap.”

Amber obeyed and Sheila opened some kind of glass jar. Inside was a pale cream. The Matron put some on her hand and rubbed it over the welts and stripes on Amber's backside. The beautiful slave winced and moaned at the cold touch on her sore skin, but it had a soothing quality. Sheila spread the salve over Amber's buttocks and the back of her legs, making sure to apply to every area she had whipped.

“Next time, you'll be more careful about when you're cleaning, h'm?”

“Oh yes, of course, Mistress,” said Amber, grateful for the show of kindness from the Matron.

“And I'm sure Lydia will, too, after I tell her everything I did to you, in the most exquisite detail.” Amber's heart leaped. The Matron must know what had really happened. Was Lydia going to be in trouble, too?

Sheila raised Amber up, and let her turn around to sit on her lap. She put an arm under the blonde slave to support her, and Amber put her head against the Matron's bosom. There was something maternal and comforting about the woman; Amber felt calm despite her recent ordeal.

“Yes, well, I am giving Lydia a reprieve, just this once, on account of what she's already been through. And you have now received your punishment for lying.”

“I understand, Mistress.” Amber wondered what had happened to Lydia that had made her so frightened, even enough for the Matron to show pity on her.

“You know, Lydia should have been more willing to beg for mercy, like you did. That would have saved her a great deal of trouble earlier.”

“I thought you would be angry, Mistress,” said Amber.

“Yes, well, that is a risk you sometimes have to take,” explained Sheila. “I could see you were in obvious pain, of course. And you had born your punishment remarkably well. Not many slaves can take twenty lashes on their knuckles.”

Twenty? Amber thought. Had it really been that many? She had lost count. No wonder her back was so sore.

“My own mother used to make me put my hands on the cane,” said the Matron, “But we were stricter then. I don't use it much, myself, unless I need to drive home an important lesson, such as honesty. A slave must never lie to her Mistress, especially not to take another slave's punishment. It is not your place to do so.”

“I promise, Mistress, I will never, ever lie again,” said Amber sincerely.

Sheila laughed a little in her soft, motherly voice. “I suppose you won't,” she said. “Now let's go; it's time to eat, and you're mine for this evening.”

Both women rose again, and Amber followed her. As much as she feared the Matron, she was under the woman's spell now, and very much wanted to be with her.

* * * *

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 13: The Matriarch

The twins were disappointed to be sent to bed early; one of them flashed Amber a jealous look. The Matron fed them and let them share a bed that night so that they could at least enjoy each other, for which they were grateful.

Amber dutifully brought plates of food to Sheila as the Matron ate, and refilled her wine glass whenever it was close to empty. She felt she could not serve her well enough. The dining room of the Matron's temple was larger and more ornate than any Amber had seen in the village before, accustomed as she was to the other Amazons' more spartan cabins. There was a candlelit chandelier and cabinets filled with polished ceramic dishes.

Even in the evening, people visited Sheila with questions and asked for her decision on all kinds of issues, from disputes to distributing property and tribute. Sheila spoke with a casual air of command, never raising her voice higher than she absolutely had to. Amber offered the guests food and drink, and was otherwise ignored. Rather than her usual feelings of humiliation at this kind of servitude, she felt oddly privileged to be there. The fact that Sheila never addressed her as she served was a sign that Amber was fulfilling her duties adequately.

Finally Sheila was finished and announced to her scribe, the man who was always writing on pieces of parchment, that she would receive no more visitors. Amber went with the Matron around the temple and help extinguish any remaining candles that were still lit. When all was dark and quiet, they retired to Sheila's bedroom. It was a large room, covered in lovely scarlet drapes, with modern-style dressers, cabinets and other furniture. Amber thought the Matron's style of living was not so different from that of her own homeland. In the center rested an ornately carved four-post bed with satin sheets and sumptuous looking coverlet. The room was lit by soft candlelight, giving it an inviting, feminine glow, and the pleasant aroma of incense filled the air.

Sheila sat at on a cushioned high-backed chair facing a tall mirror. The glass was straight and polished, with no blemishes, and must have been very expensive to make, Amber thought, in an age when even small hand mirrors were the prerogative of noblewomen. Without a word Amber was beckoned to her side. The lovely blonde stepped carefully, as if entranced, and knelt on the soft, carpeted floor. Sheila raised her leg up between Amber's breasts and gestured casually to her her boot. Amber understood what Sheila wanted; first, she kissed the tips of the boot submissively, with unfeigned affection, and unlaced it, removing it from Sheila's leg. She then removed the other one and the Matron stood up and stretched, enjoying the feel of the cool air against her bare legs. Amber kissed her bare feet and Sheila smiled at her. The Matron sat down again and held out her gloves, which Amber also removed, kissing the Matron's hands as she did so. The Matron stood up again.

“Now, unfasten my skirt,” she commanded.

Amber's heart fluttered inside. She stood behind Sheila and unfastened the leather skirt, letting it drop to the floor. The Matron then stripped out of her the thong and sash she wore beneath it, and removed her halter top. Amber could see her full, ripe breasts in the mirror, with their large, inviting nipples. She wanted to kiss and suckle them, but remained where she was, waiting to be commanded.

Sheila stretched out again. Amber saw the neatly trimmed triangle of hair above the Matron's pubis and blushed a little, despite her constant exposure to nude women by now.

“Now, that's more civilized,” said the Matron languidly.

She took Amber by the arm and brought her over to the foot of her bed. Amber noted the rings on the bedposts; there didn't seem to be a wall or column in the whole village a slave couldn't be chained to. Sheila raised Amber's arms, faced her away from the bed, and clipped her wrist restraints to the bedposts. Amber's legs were then stretched apart and similarly restrained. The blonde girl shivered with nervous excitement.

“You're trembling, dear,” said the Matron. “Surely, the worst is behind you, h'm?” Amber smiled bashfully. The Matron's dark hair was normally combed straight back, behind her ears, giving her a serious appearance, but she let it fall forward now. Her cheekbones were soft and rounded, and she looked wonderful when she smiled, Amber thought; if only she did so more often. She would have done anything for the Matron to smile at her the way she did now.

Sheila took Amber's chin in hand and lowered the slave girl's head to her breast. Amber took Sheila's nipple in her mouth, sucking greedily. The flesh felt warm and inviting. She moved her tongue around the nipple, feeling it quickly grow hard and straight. She felt like a child suckling her mother's bosom. Sheila closed her eyes and moaned softly. She cupped Amber's head and ran her fingers through her long golden hair.

“So beautiful,” she said with her smile. “You make me jealous.” She turned Amber's head to her other breast and the slave girl took the nipple between her teeth, biting ever so gently and rubbing it, sending ripples of pleasure through Sheila's body. After a little while Sheila put a finger under Amber's chin and turned her head up, and kissed her fully on the lips. Her tongue entered Amber's mouth aggressively, and she held the kiss for what seemed an eternity. Amber thought the Matron's lips were strong enough to suck the life out of her. As Sheila continued the powerful kiss she put her hand between Amber's legs and stroked her bald sex, rubbing and opening the vulnerable folds of her labia. Amber felt herself quickly growing very wet; her sex throbbed with anticipation of the older woman's touch.

Sheila drew back at last and went over to her dresser. Amber admired her athletic figure as she moved. Sheila came back with a cloth blindfold that she wrapped around Amber's eyes, tying it off behind her head. She teased Amber further, running her hands over her silky skin, fondling her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples. When Amber was sufficiently roused and responsive, Sheila went to get something else. Amber heard her coming close again, and suddenly felt a series of cold sharp prickles against her skin. The sensation moved up and down her torso, over her breasts and down to her sex. She shivered as goosebumps formed on her sensitive flesh. The prickling feeling continued to move down her thighs and back up to her bosom. It was as though a tiny wheel of small pins was being rolled against her skin. She whimpered ever so slightly as the pins pressed into her nipple.

Sheila had other things in store for her as well. Amber felt what she guessed to be a feather duster pressed against her bosom soon after the prickling stopped. The slave thrust her chest out, eager to languish in the soft, comforting warmth Sheila offered her. It seemed to smooth over the the memory of the pinpricks on her skin. She moaned softly, like a pampered pet, smiling as the feathers made their way all over her body.

When the pleasant softness of the feathers ceased, she heard Sheila open a chest and take something out. The next thing she knew was an intense feeling of cold; a block of something hard and intensely cold was pressing against her stomach. Amber gasped as the the warmth was sucked out of her. Ice, she thought. Why would the Matron waste such a delicacy on a poor slave girl like herself? She shuddered as the relentless cold sensation made its way up her body, inexorably moving to her exposed nipple. When Sheila moved the ice cube around the aureole of her breast, she shivered and squealed a little. It burned in its way.

“Wait until you feel this,” the Matron said slyly. Amber tried to remain stoic as the cold feeling made its way back down her body. It didn't stop at her waist, but kept going down, between her legs...

“Ah...ah...ah...” she moaned helplessly as the cruel block was plunged into her quivering sex. It seemed to have melted a little, but not much. The feeling was too much, and she quivered helplessly, trying in vain to bring her thighs together for additional warmth. Sheila cruelly held it in place, smiling wickedly at her helpless, blindfolded captive. Amber's bosom heaved with each ragged breath now. The air seemed to have been drawn out of her, as her tormented vagina cried out in her mind. She moaned even louder as Sheila moved the cube around, rubbing her clit. Finally, mercifully, the freezing block was withdrawn from her, leaving Amber panting and quivering.

As Amber tried to regain he composure, she felt something hard and narrow invading her numbed sex. A pair of tweezers suddenly moved to clamp down on her clitoris, gripping the sensitive flesh and rubbing it vigorously. She felt the Matron's hand rubbing the folds of her sensitive labia, and Amber's hips began to buck involuntarily. The intense feelings of her sex would soon overwhelm her. She inhaled more and more deeply with each breath, until she shuddered and moaned in a violent orgasm that washed away all other thoughts. Sheila caressed her captive's cheek as Amber tried to calm herself and bring her wild breathing under control.

“I can see why my daughter is so taken with you,” said the Matron.

Amber blushed as Sheila removed her blindfold and released her wrists and ankles, knowing she had made a spectacle of herself. The Matron took the trembling blonde to her bed, where they lay next to each other, and embraced her in a long, passionate kiss. Amber closed her eyes and threw her arms around Sheila's neck. She felt she was losing herself in this woman, and the Matron's kiss threatened to devour her.

Sheila produced a jar of scented oil and had Amber rub it on her back. Amber massaged the pleasant smelling substance against the Matron's shoulders and back, savoring the intimacy she felt with her. She kissed Sheila's skin, from her shoulders to her waist.

“Quite incorrigible, aren't we?”said the Matron.

Sheila sat up, opened Amber's legs, and overlapped her own with them. The two women lay at opposite end from one another now, legs entwined, as Sheila rubbed her pelvis against Amber's with powerful thrusts. Sheila held Amber's gaze with a low, seductive smile as she ground harder and harder against her. Amber reached out and tentatively fingered Sheila's hard, inviting nipples. Their moans began to coincide with one another as they rubbed their sexes against one another. Amber closed her eyes and leaned her head back as her chest heaved in increasingly deep breaths. Just when her moans reached their highest pitch, the Matron stopped and laid down, opening her legs.

“Pleasure me, girl,” she commanded. “I want to see what you can do with that tongue of yours.”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Amber, foregoing her own satisfaction in order to please the Matron. She bent down and buried her head in Sheila's pussy, tracing the folds of her labia, with her tongue, and pushing it deep inside her, moving it vigorously. She found the mound of Sheila's clit and held it between her own lips, rubbing it gently for the Matron's pleasure. Sheila closed her eyes and moaned in satisfaction. She held Amber's head down with one hand and rubbed the nipple of her breast with the other. Not long afterwards, Amber's efforts brought her to a climax, and her face winced in an expression that might have otherwise been mistaken for one of intense pain. As her breathing settled, she took Amber onto her and kissed her deeply, rubbing a pair of fingers against Amber's eager, moist sex. Amber sucked the older woman's wonderful breasts, savoring the taste of the smooth skin and jutting nipples. She kissed Sheila's mouth again, and her bosom heaved against the Matron's when she was finally brought to orgasm. She nuzzled her head against Sheila's neck to relax. She could feel the woman's heartbeat against her face. She loved the matriarch, she realized, though in a different way than she loved her Mistress, Keira. Keira was someone she was always trying to impress; Amber wanted the Amazon's attention and approval. With the Matron she simply felt overwhelmed, as though her own feelings didn't even count. She would have dome anything for her, and accepted any punishment.

They spent the night in each other's arms, with Amber's collar leashed to a ring in the bedpost as was customary for slaves, as if she would ever try to run away. She kissed the Matron's feet and gradually made her way up the Matron's firm legs to her sex, as Sheila encouraged her with a continuous tug on her leash. They both had several more orgasms that night.

Amber awoke with a start. She had spent the night in a deep, dreamless sleep, savoring the feel of the bed's silk sheets and of the warmth of the Matron's body. When she opened her eyes Sheila was already up and dressed.

“Get up, lazy one, or you'll get a spanking,” Sheila said in her customary soft, commanding tone. Amber tumbled out of the bed and knelt down at its foot, waiting for instructions. The Matron unclipped Amber's leash and directed her to make the bed. Amber obeyed wordlessly.

Sheila left the room for a moment and came back with her beautiful twin slave girls, Amanda and Jessica. They had passed the night making love to one another, but for them it was no substitute for the company of their beloved Mistress. The twins were a point of particular pride for Sheila; she had taken them in as young girls and trained them to be highly responsive sexually. They adored her, and made little effort to hide their jealous glares at Amber. They were a bit older than she was, in their early twenties, and were taller and more slender. Their wavy copper hair was combed neatly and fell just to their shoulders. They were not leashed as they followed Sheila in. Amber saw that they were both wearing strapons, with phalluses jutting provocatively from the crotch.

“You may have her for a little while,” said the Matron. “Then she has to go back.” The twins smiled and approached Amber eagerly. Amanda took Amber to the bed and lay down, pulling the blonde on top of her. Jessica knelt behind Amber. Amanda cupped Amber's head and kissed her, before lowering Amber's head to the phallus between her legs. Jessica held Amber's hips as the blonde slave took it in her mouth, moving her head back and forth as though sucking a man's cock. Jessica fingered Amber's sex, and smiled as it quickly grew wet.

“I think she's ready,” said Jessica to her twin. Amanda responded by bringing Amber's head up to her own and kissing her. The twins had wonderfully pert, pouting lips and Amber languished in the young woman's kiss. Beneath her, Amanda took hold of her phallus and slid it into Amber's sex, thrust upward vigorously. Amber began to heave her bosom and sigh; already she was aroused again, her long night with the Matron had only made her eager for more. Then, she felt Jessica fingering open her anus. She wondered what was happening when she felt the hard shaft of the dildo pushed inside her ass, filling her. She moaned with each breath now, as her lower body was filled and the twin slaves thrust the polished wooden cocks into each opening, stretching her. She bent her head and kissed Amanda's perky, jutting breasts. From behind her Jessica cupped Amber's own, squeezing and playing with the blonde slave's nipples. Amber breathed louder and louder, her eyes now squeezed shut. She had never experienced anything quite like this before. All her sensations were sexual. She could feel nothing but the dildos filling her inside, moving back and forth against her most sensitive areas, and saw nothing but Amanda's breasts when she opened her eyes. Jessica spanked her bottom roughly, and Amanda slapped Amber's breasts and pinched her nipples until she squealed.

Amber had two, maybe three orgasms before the twins were satisfied with her, and she wasn't entirely sure which of the wooden cocks had directly caused them. Sheila watched the whole display with a bemused smile. When she thought Amber had had enough she clapped her hands and the twins got up off the bed, removing the strapons they both wore. They took Amber downstairs to a kind of preparation room, where she had to stand in a tub of water as they scrubbed her down with soap and washed her hair. It took a long time to comb and dress, as it now came down well past her shoulders. When Amber was properly cleaned and set she was sent back to her own Mistress.

* * * *

Keira greeted Amber neutrally; whether she was angry with her slave or not she didn't show. Amber waited on her as Keira ate and cleaned up afterwards. Her Mistress was quiet and indifferent to her the whole time, which may or may not have boded well for her. Amber felt a terrible tension growing inside her. She had to know if she was still in Keira's good graces, and risked saying something aloud, even though she had not been spoken to. She knelt at Keira's feet and apologized for her clumsiness, which had caused the Matron to take her away for the night.

Keira took Amber's chin in hand and raised her head up.

“Listen Amber,” she said. “I need you to set a good example for Lydia. She's new, and she's nervous. She'll be looking at how you behave. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Keira kissed Amber's forehead. “Now clean the place up. I'm going hunting today.”

Amber kissed Keira's feet affectionately, grateful her Mistress was not too angry with her. When she left, Amber went upstairs where Lydia was already sweeping. Amber noted the fresh red stripes on the girl's back.

“Ar you all right?” Amber asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Lydia said. “Mistress Keira was training me last night. It wasn't too bad. Actually, I rather liked some of it. But I can't imagine what you went through,” she added. She hugged Amber, who was caught a little off guard, and then Lydia sat down on the bed. She looked down at the floor. “I don't know how to repay you,” the brunette slave said.

Amber sat next to her and put and arm around her. “It's all right, the Matron saw the whole thing.”

“She did?”

“She said she was granting you a reprieve this time. She must have decided you had already been punished too harshly recently, or something.”

“Oh,” said Lydia. “Well, that was kind of her.” She then felt the stripes on Amber's own back. “But she worked you over pretty good, didn't she? I wish I could make it up to you.”

“The punishment part was awful,” Amber admitted. “But that was over soon enough. I am curious as to what happened to you before, if you don't mind my asking.”

Lydia nodded. “I guess I can tell you,” she said. “When I first came to these islands I was purchased by a beautiful Amazon in Blackmount; she had a vicious temper. I couldn't do anything right; she punished me all the time, and kept saying how worthless I was. I felt awful, like I deserved it, and I was in horrible pain all the time. She didn't leave many marks, though—the Amazons can hurt you by touching pressure points or bending you certain ways; they all know how. So the Matron who inspected me never suspected anything. I was too terrified to complain.”

“That's awful,” said Amber. “Mistress Sheila made it pretty clear I had to tell her everything that happened to me, no matter what; even beg for mercy if I had to.”

“Yes, well, I finally did...one time I made a really trivial mistake, and my Mistress just lost it. She whipped me until my back was good and bleeding, and she didn't stop. She was in a rage. I thought she would kill me. Finally I put out my hand to stop her and begged for mercy, and she dislocated my finger as a punishment. Then she dragged me to the village Matriarch and said I broke my oath, and that I deserved to be killed. I wish I could say I was dignified, but...”

“I understand,” said Amber sympathetically.

“I pleaded my case and the Matriarch decided she had been too abusive—the bloody stripes on my back gave that away, I guess. She made her sell me, and I ended up here. I don't think that woman will be allowed to have another slave.”

“I have to admit,” said Amber, “I was jealous of you. I didn't want Keira spending time with someone else.”

“Really?” asked Lydia. “I can't compete with you; you're so beautiful. I just took it for granted that she would favor you, since you were here first anyway. I don't care if you get all the attention, I'm just happy to be safe.”

Amber embraced Lydia. “I'll be more friendly from now on,” she said. “And no one will hurt you with Keira to protect you; you'll see.”

“I won't forget what you did for me,” said Lydia sincerely.

“Let's finish cleaning, and I can show you around,” said Amber.

“I'd like that,” said her fellow slave.

* * * *

Timberwood was more open and spread out than the walled compound of Blackmount where Lydia had lived in before. She rather liked it; she had never been able to walk around so freely before in her time on the island of Lyria. Amber showed her the well, where they could fetch water if ordered, and the nearby spring and pond, where Amber sometimes relaxed. They also went to the village square with its shops and stalls.

“We can almost pretend we're shopping, can't we?” said Lydia with a smile. They picked wild berries together; Keira had shown Amber which were edible in her time there. Lydia was quite taken with Amber, and openly admired her beauty. Amber thought Lydia was quite pretty herself. They came back to the house and Amber made a lunch for them, sitting cross legged on the floor. Slaves did not eat at the table without permission; it was the kind of rule Natalie might have broken when her Mistress was away, but Amber tried hard to obey Keira even when she was absent.

Afterwards Amber showed Lydia Chandra's home, near the temple, where Belle was leashed outside. Her Mistress had gone away with Keira for most of the day. Lydia was fascinated with her. Belle lay on her side on the soft springy grass, enjoying the sun but was rather bored. The young ponytailed blonde was tethered to pole by a long lead. When she saw Amber she smiled and crawled over to greet her. They hugged.

“Nothing to do today?” asked Amber. Belle shook her head. She eyed Lydia nervously.

“Does she, um, enjoy this kind of thing?” asked Lydia. She noted the tail protruding from the girl's backbone and the way she had to walk on all fours.

“Well, if it's with someone she knows, yes; but not really in front of strangers,” said Amber.

“I suppose I wouldn't want to be seen like this either.” It must be terribly humiliating for the girl, she thought, to be reduced to a “pet” like this.

“Belle, this is Lydia,” said Amber. “She's very nice. If it's okay with you, we can play together for a while.” Belle nodded, grateful to have company. Amber picked up one of several colorful balls lying on the grass and rolled it away. Belle chased it down, scampering as far as her tether would allow, and rolled it back with her nose.

“Good girl,” said Amber. Belle laughed shyly, embarrassed but having fun. She chased the ball down a dew more times.

“Well, she's certainly cute,” said Lydia. “Come here, Belle.” The younger, ponytailed blonde crawled over to where Lydia sat cross legged. “Are you ticklish?” asked the brunette slave with a smile. Before Belle could back away Lydia gathered her in her arms and moved her fingers over her tummy. Belle tried to get away but she wasn't very strong. She laughed as loud as her raspy voice allowed and squirmed in Lydia's embrace, tears welling in her eyes. “I think that's a yes,” said Lydia. Lydia rolled the “pet” onto her back and Lydia put her head to the girl's stomach, vibrating her lips against her skin. Belle arched her back up, swaying side to side to escape this torment. Lydia let her get back up again.

“I'm sorry Belle,” she said. “I just thought you looked so adorable.” Belle's laughter subsided and she wiped a tear from her eye. She went up to Lydia and placed her mouth over the girl's breast, sucking her nipple.

“Ohh, that's nice,” said the brunette.

“I guess she likes you,” said Amber. She knelt next to Belle and stroked her head.

“Can we...?” asked Lydia, reaching her hand to feel the young “pet's” plump breast.

“Mistress Chandra doesn't mind if I keep her company...I think it's all right,” said Amber. Belle looked at Lydia and smiled seductively. She rolled over onto her back. Lydia crept forward and knelt over her, her moist sex over Belle's face. The pet slave licked her moist labia, kissing the folds of her pussy, and tongued the button of her clit, sucking it between hr own lips.

“Oh my...she's good,” said Lydia with a surprised laugh. She closed her eyes and bent forward, placing a hand on the ground to steady herself and rubbing her nipple with her other. “Ooohh...” she moaned softly, and licked her lips. Her breathing became a series of sharp gasps.

Amber saw the pink lips of Belle's own pussy, shaved but for a a few wisps of brownish gold hair above her crotch. Her lips were swelling now, and began to glisten with moisture. Amber knelt and placed her tongue in the wet folds of the pet's vagina, tasting the vaguely salty juice. She traced her tongue around Belle's clit and pushed three fingers into her welcoming sex. Belle climaxed after just a little while of this, and Lydia heaved in her orgasm soon after. She massaged Belle's breasts gently.

“Such a sweet girl,” she said.

They spent some time throwing the ball back and forth between the two of them,with Belle chasing it each time. They were sad to leave the lonely girl, but they had to return home soon. Keira returned with a couple of rabbits that they stewed for dinner.

Late that evening, Keira conducted a training session before retiring to bed. Both her slave girls had to walk back and forth across the room carrying wooden blocks in each hand, holding them steadily at shoulder's height, and one on their head for balance. Young noble born women sometimes did this to learn to move with fluidity and grace. Amber's own parents had never made her do this before, for which she was grateful. Nobles often used books for this sort of exercise, but those were hard to come by. The girls were supposed to move sensually and fluidly, although neither felt particularly sexy at that moment. If they did the blocks would balance perfectly. Lydia bit her lower lip nervously and looked up with her eyes, bending her knees a little to keep her balance. Keira tapped her bottom with her riding crop. Tentatively she stepped across the room, holding her breath and hoping she could make it. She walked a little too fast and the block slid off her. Keira smacked her backside several times until she placed the wooden board back on her head, and her Mistress put the other two back in her hands. She had to start over again.

“We can do this all night if we have to,” said Keira impatiently. After some time, and more than a few marks on their backs, the slave girls were able to make it across the room at least a couple of times without dropping their burdens. When Keira was satisfied for the time being, she put the blocks aside and took the girls to the hanging spreader bars. A second one now hung parallel to the first, and the slave girls were each chained to one by the wrists, facing one another. Their ankles were left free for the time being. Keira gagged them both.

The Mistress produced a now-familiar pair of small clamps. Amber whimpered a little through her gag, and Lydia looked nervous. Keira put the hated clamp on Amber's nipple, and stretched the chain across to Lydia, attaching the other end to hers. She took out a second pair of clamps and repeated the process. Both slave girls had to lean forward to avoid being stretched unbearably. Keira smiled wickedly and pulled the chain up at the middle, straining their poor nipples and eliciting a pathetic whimper from both helpless captives.

Keira took her cane and began walking around them, striking them each on the bottom, just hard enough to make them wince. She tapped their bottoms and thighs, and lectured them on the importance of good posture. When she brought the cane down hard on Amber's bottom, the blonde girl squealed and tossed her head back, which made the pull of the chain worse for both Lydia and herself. She realized she had to keep still to avoid aggravating her poor nipples.

“See what I mean?” said Keira. “If you don't stay still, it's going to hurt for you both.”

She next caned Lydia, who moaned and closed her eyes tightly, biting hard on her gag. Lydia tried to keep her composure, but it was hard. Keira caned each girl in succession, sometimes from the front, sometimes on the back. Fresh new stripes appeared over the fading ones Amber had received the previous night. Each time the girls were hit they couldn't help but move a little, if only out of reflex, and the tyrannical clamps tugged on them each time. Tears began to water in Lydia's eyes after Keira's cane made a long welt across her bottom.

After the slave girls had received a dozen stripes each, Keira went to her chest and pulled out something new. It looked like a long set of tweezers, or pincers. She brought the long, thin metal to Amber and placed the clamped ends under her sex. She felt for Amber's clit and squeezed it between the two small metal tongs, just enough to hold it suspended in place. Amber moaned nervously as the cold metal put a merciless, continuous pressure against the sensitive bud. Keira took another one and Amber watched her Mistress put a similar clamp on Lydia's sex. Worst of all, Keira took a thin chain and clipped the two clamps together, as she had with the other ones. Amber and Lydia had to push their hips forward a bit to relieve the pressure.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Keira took her flogger and began to smack the girls' backsides thoroughly with it. Most of the blows did not hurt excessively, but they still made the two helpless slaves rock back and forth, tugging on the cruel clamps that squeezed their most tender areas. Amber felt herself becoming very wet. She expected that by now; she was well aware that such pain and humiliation excited her, and she didn't mind at all if Keira noticed. She saw a tickle of moisture forming between Lydia's legs as well, although the girl looked very frightened. The blows of the flogger came slower and harder now. The pressure on Amber's clit and and breasts increased. She was very much aroused now; her sex throbbed in both pleasure and pain. She closed her eyes and eagerly awaited the next blow of the flogger. The hard slap was something like a caress to her. She breathed heavily, taking in all the sensations—the pressure on her nipples, the tugging of her wrists, and the pincer on her clit that made her move her legs involuntarily. She moaned each time she was hit, as though someone were making love to her. Keira swung the flogger downwards, upwards, or spun it to the side as she wished. Lydia trembled, trying to hold still as it struck her back, bottom, breasts and thighs. The blows to her breasts were particularly cruel for her.

Keira put an arm on Lydia's shoulder. She brought her head close to Lydia's and spoke softly in her ear.

“You see Amber?” she whispered. Lydia nodded. In front of her the blonde slave's eyes were closed in some kind of reverie.

“She's enjoying this, isn't she?” Keira asked, and again Lydia nodded. “That's what you need to do. Just let it all go. Focus on the feeling.” Lydia nodded a third time. Amber could probably hear, but she didn't show it. She was in her own world now. Keira felt between the brunette's legs. “You're wet, dear,” she said with a smile. Lydia blushed and closed her eyes. “No need to be ashamed,” said her Mistress. “You're coming along very nicely.”

Lydia tensed and remained stoic as Keira continued to administer blows with her flogger. Amber sighed and rolled her head to the side, savoring each sting even as it hurt her a little. Finally, Keira was satisfied. Removing the clamps caused almost as much pain as putting them on, as the blood suddenly rushed back the skin that had been pinched. When the clamps were taken away from the girls' legs they squealed and lifted their knees reflexively. It hurt just as much to have her nipple clamps removed, but Lydia was grateful to have them off when the throbbing subsided. Her nipples seemed unusually sensitive for the next hour or so.

Keira took two separate lengths of chain and clipped each girl's collar to a bedpost. Amber was excited to know she would be with her Mistress that night. First, Keira directed the two girls to make love to each other. Amber sat across from Lydia and pushed her sex against the more nervous girl's. The blonde slave girl was already very aroused and licked her lips sensuously, moaning contentedly as her first orgasm washed over her. She moved to Lydia and sucked her breasts, rubbing the other girl's sex vigorously by hand. Eventually Lydia, too, climaxed. Satisfied that her slaves were well warmed up, Keira disrobed and lay down between them. Each slave girl sucked at one Keira's breasts. The Mistress stroked their heads affectionately. Owning two slaves, for all the work involved, definitely had it advantages.

* * * *

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 14: Teasing

With Lydia to help her, Amber's daily chores were completed much faster. Amber warmed up to her new companion; Lydia had a sincere, down-to-earth personality that she found refreshing. The brunette was clearly smitten by Amber, as well, but she dared not touch her, for fear of angering Keira. They could not normally give or receive pleasure without express permission, and Keira began to keep a close eye on them when she was around.

But Keira was not always around, as she had to provide for two slaves now, and one afternoon Amber and Lydia finished working in the orchard before their Mistress returned from her hunt. Amber suggested they go to the pond just outside the village to relax. The two girls stepped into the refreshing, cool water up to their waists and let themselves float, idly chatting and taking in the sun. Amber playfully put a water lily on each of her breasts as she lay on her back, letting her long hair get wet. Lydia splashed her playfully.

“Hey,” said Amber with a smile. She stood up and splashed Lydia in return, who giggled. Lydia ran around her and caught her from behind, her hands on Amber's breasts. Amber squirmed and tried to get free, but Lydia held fast.

“I've got you now,” she said with a sly smile. She kissed the back of Amber's neck, and moved her lips down the blonde's shoulder. Amber closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the kisses, but soon pulled away.

“We can't,” she said. “We'll get in a lot of trouble.”

“I know,” said Lydia wistfully. “It's just...I really like you.”

“I like you, too,” said Amber, and she gave Lydia a kiss on the cheek.

“Maybe some day, when we're free...”

“I'm not sure I want to be free just yet,” said Amber. “I like being with Mistress Keira.”

“Really?” said Lydia. “You wouldn't go back home even if you could?”

“To be with my mother again, I would,” said Amber. “But I don't want to give Keira a reason to get rid of me as long as I'm here.”

“Of course—I understand what you mean,” said Lydia. “I'm glad you're here with me.” Lydia also knew, of course, that if there was even a hint of impropriety on their part Keira might take away their free time indefinitely; they would be caged whenever they weren't working.

While they were talking they heard someone approaching. They saw the Amazon Naomi emerge from the woods, with her sister in tow, naked and tethered to her leash.

“Ah, there you are,” said the Amazon. “Time to make yourselves useful, lazy ones. We're loading firewood for the Matron's home.”

The two slave girls humbly nodded and quickly came out of the pond. Amber wrung her hair out to help it dry. They followed Naomi to a clearing where several workers had cut down trees and split logs. There was a cart hitched to two proud, harnessed ponygirls—Amber saw that they were the Matron's personal twin slave girls. Naomi unleashed her own slave and set them to work.

“Load it up while I round up more help,” ordered Naomi. “And try not to break anything this time.” She pointed the last remark at Amber, but it was Lydia who looked guilty at the mention of the Matron's broken windows. Together with Naomi's sister Natalie, the two of them picked up the wooden pieces and laid them in the cart. It was a laborious task.

“They can't pull this load, can they?” asked Amber, referring to the Matron's ponygirls. “It's going to be very heavy when it's full.”

“Mistress Naomi will probably get more ponies,” said Natalie. “Six can be hitched at once if they need.”

“That must be quite a sight,” said Lydia.

“It's very arousing,” said Natalie with a smile. “Say...that gives me an idea.”

“You're not going to do anything...foolish, are you?” asked Amber, aware of Natalie's proclivity for getting into trouble.

“Oh, don't act so innocent,” said Natalie. “I saw you two in the pond.”

“We were behaving,” Lydia protested.

“Sure you were,” said Natalie. “I think the ponies need some attention.” She put a log in the cart and stood in front of the ponygirls. Amber thought the twin named Jessica was on the right and Amanda on the left, but she was not entirely sure. Their hair was arranged in identical braided ponytails, revealing the lovely nape of their necks. They stood upright, arms bound behind them, chests thrust firmly outward, their mouths bitted and bridled. They were trained to stand at attention for hours if need be.

Natalie caressed Amanda's cheek, and the ponygirl looked at her warily. Natalie bent her head and began to suck on Amanda's perky breast, her tongue rolling around the jutting nipple.

“They're not allowed to pleasure themselves, of course,” said Natalie. “Poor things.” She continued to caress Amanda, who stamped her foot and made a whinnying noise. There was only so much she could do to resist; her legs were hobbled together at the ankles. As the Matron's personal slaves, the twins were kept to high standards—they would never have allowed Natalie to pleasure them so without permission, but they were helpless. Amanda looked at Natalie angrily, panting and whinnying louder. Natalie placed her hand under the ponygirl's crotch, rubbing the leather thong that held her belt in place, and Amanda closed her eyes helplessly, moaning heavily.

“You'll get her in trouble,” said Amber. She was concerned but made no move to stop her fellow slave; no one could see them, and there didn't seem to be any real harm done. There were workmen chopping at trees, but they were a ways off.

“I'd hate to do that,” said Natalie. Amanda was stamping her foot and chomping at her bit as hard as she could. “If you want me to stop, just say so,” said Natalie. Amanda made a noise with her throat, but her bit kept her from articulating any words. As her breathing intensified, Natalie ceased her attentions and backed away.

“Now now,” she said, “No coming without permission. I'm just letting you have a little fun before I get back to work.” Amanda, aroused and in heat now, gave Natalie a look that could have melted ice as the slave girl began gathering wood again. She sighed in helpless frustration through her bit.

“You are cruel,” said Lydia. Amber shrugged and shook her head. She was tempted to do the same, herself—to pleasure the helpless, bound twin, but she knew to behave herself. Later, Natalie massaged Jessica's nipples; the ponygirl tried to kick out her knees but her ankle chain restrained her. She wriggled from side to side helplessly as Natalie felt the nipples harden between her fingers. Jessica made a pleading sound with her throat, and eventually Natalie stopped, but not before a drop of moisture was running visibly down Jessica's leg. With a satisfied smile, Natalie went back to work.

Amber was tired and sweating by the time they had loaded all the firewood. It was piled above the rim of the cart; she very much doubted the twins could haul the entire load themselves. Naomi returned with Claire, the redheaded slave, in tow, and the Amazon had a bag slung over her shoulder. The Amazon gave a whistle and the laborers came to the clearing, axes slung over their shoulders, sweating from their day's work. There were about a dozen of them.

“That'll be enough for today,” Naomi told them. “You can enjoy the slaves before we set off.”

Before Amber could even react, a brawny, smiling man took her roughly by the shoulders and set her down on her knees in front of him. She understood what was wanted of her; Naomi stood nearby, a switch in her hand to encourage any of the slave girls who hesitated. The man was rough looking, with a day's growth of stubble around his chin; certainly not the type she would have entertained in her palace back home. Nervously, she raised her hands to his belt and unfastened it, eying the bulge in his crotch. She lowered his breeches and he grabbed her head roughly, pulling her mouth to his erect organ. She took it in and let it go as far as it could, trying desperately not to gag. She rolled her tongue around his firm cock but didn't have much opportunity to do much else to pleasure him; with one hand he shoved her head back and forth against his thrusting organ. With a hearty laugh he took off his belt and snapped it in the air, and amber next felt it come down against her back, stinging her. He held her firm, and more and more Amber could taste the salty liquid in her mouth until the worker's cock writhed and released its pent up fluid into her, spilling out onto her chest. The man laughed again and slapped her breasts with his belt, causing Amber to cry out. “That's a nice job, sweetie,” he said leeringly.

As he fastened his breeches again, Amber felt herself grabbed from behind by Natalie and taken to another woodsman. “Come on, slave,” said Naomi firmly. “No slacking.” The second man was gentler than the first; he caressed Amber's hair and cheeks and she sucked his cock, and he fondled her breasts playfully. She did her best to please him, her whole mouth now tasting of sweat and semen. When he came, she tried to swallow all his come, as it was easier than cleaning it off her skin. When the second woodsman was satisfied Amber turned around to see the others. Lydia was on her hands and knees, as a large, burly man impaled her from behind, penetrating her anus. Her mouth surrounded another man's erect organ, as he knelt in front of her. The men were laughing and slapping her breasts; Lydia seemed too stunned to even react. Claire was kneeling with a man's cock in each of her hand, turning her head from one to the other periodically to satisfy them both. She seemed to be enjoying herself, or at least she put on a good show for them.

When the worker's passions had been satisfied, they thanked Naomi and returned home. The slave girls' work was not yet finished. Naomi put her bag down and opened it, producing several wide leather belts with straps hanging from them. Each slave girl was given one to put on, and the four of them were hitched to the poles of the carriage in front of the twin ponygirls. Together they pulled the heavy burden down the road, stepping together as Naomi counted a cadence and whipped them on. Amber panted and sweat, but there was no letting up until they had reached the Matron's temple. Finally, Naomi let them go, and Amber returned home to bathe and fix her hair for Keira.

“I heard you two were a little...shall we say, frisky today,” said Keira, having spoken with Naomi on her return.

“Please Mistress, we were only relaxing,” said Amber. She waited on Keira as her Mistress ate her dinner, holding her wine cup.

“All the same, I'm not certain it's a good idea to leave you two alone together,” said Keira. “Tomorrow I'm sending you back to work at the Matron's in the morning. And I have something special for you to wear.” She said nothing further on the matter, and Amber didn't ask what she meant.

That night, Lydia and Amber practiced walking back and forth across the room with wooden blocks balanced atop their heads, trying to move fluidly and gracefully. Amber had had practice at this sort of thing before, balancing books in the palace she had lived in, and swayed her hips suggestively to keep her balance, pleasing Keira. Poor Lydia toppled the block several times, and received a cane stroke each time. Only when she was finally able to pace across the room twice without letting it fall did Keira let her slave girls undress her and go to bed. They pleasured her until their Mistress was exhausted, and as a reward Keira let them bring each other to a climax; she was too tired herself to bother with pleasuring her slaves. Lydia relished her time with Amber, sucking her breasts and sex languidly, prolonging the experience as much as she could; she didn't know when she would next be allowed to do so. Finally Keira took each girl to a separate padded cage where they slept for the night.

The next morning they served Keira breakfast and bathed her, and after they themselves had eaten Keira ordered them to stand at attention in the upper room while she got something for them. When she came upstairs the slave girls could she carried a pair of belts; they looked like the strapons Amber had seen before, but were made a little differently. Amber kept her hands clasped behind her neck, feet apart, as Keira looped the leather cord around her waist. The slave girl realized the phallus attached to it was on the inside, and it was pushed into her groin as the belt was buckled and locked round her. It was only a thin strap around her waist, with a cord running between the cheeks of her bottom; a firm, shaped piece of leather held the phallus in place inside her. Keira put the other belt around Lydia.

“There,” said the Amazon. “That should discourage any inappropriate contact. No go to the Matron's, and be back by afternoon.

Amber's cheeks turned bright red. She was used to her constant nudity, but this was worse—everyone would be able to see she was wearing the belt and would know what it was for. The whole village would know she was being penetrated. She lost her composure for a moment and begged Keira with watering eyes to spare her this humiliation, but Keira only gave her a firm swat on the bottom and sent the two women away.

Outside, Amber could feel the phallus constantly rubbing inside her, tormenting her as she walked. She was becoming quickly aroused and had no way to relieve herself. Lydia's cheeks looked just as flush as her own. By the time she reached the Matron's temple, she could feel a little moisture running silently down her leg and pleaded inwardly that no one noticed. Natalie was there, too, and flashed her a knowing smile. The slave girls took the firewood they had gathered and carried it to the large central chamber inside the building, which housed an ornate fireplace where an entire animal could be cooked. Each trip Amber made caused her a little more of the pleasant agony, and she quietly whimpered for release. But while the continuous presence of the phallus inside her was enough to cause her arousal, it was not enough to cause her to climax. She and Lydia were subdued as they walked, looking at no one and saying as little as possible. The wood chaffed her skin as she carried it around, but that was not her primary concern.

As they worked, Amber saw the Matron's twin slave girls walking about on some errand for their Mistress; she greeted them cordially and one of them, Jessica, place a furtive hand between her legs and gave her a wicked smile as she passed. Amber whimpered quietly.

“Not so fun to be teased, is it?” the twin whispered to her. Amber wordlessly shook her head. But it wasn't Amber the twins were looking for. They found Natalie and cornered her as she entered the central chamber with the fireplace, each twin taking an arm of hers.

“Is something wrong?” Natalie asked nervously. The twins smiled conspiratorially at one another and dragged Natalie to the far wall. There were hooks and rings adorning the wall, as with every other Amazon dwelling, and the twins raised Natalie's arms and spread her legs apart, clipping her wrist cuffs to them. They were spaced so that Natalie had to stand on her toes and stretch herself as far as she could.

“You're not angry at me, are you?” she asked them, looking nervous. She realized that perhaps not everyone appreciated her sense of humor. Amanda ran her fingers through Natalie's short, light brown hair.

“This room could use some decoration,” she said to her sister. “Doesn't she look nice up here?” Jessica nodded.

“I'm really sorry,” said Natalie. “I just wanted to, you know, spice things up a bit for you; relieve the boredom,” she said sincerely.

“Do you like to laugh?” asked Amanda. Natalie looked at her nervously. The Matron's slave girl took a decorative feather out of her hair and ran it gently along the skin of Natalie's raised armpit.

“No...please,” begged the helpless young woman as she began to giggle. Jessica took another feather and began doing the same. Natalie felt the tiny brushes against her stomach and neck, and began to laugh uncontrollably. With tears welling in her eyes, she begged her tormentors to stop, but the only stuffed a rag into her mouth to keep her voice from echoing in the hall. Natalie cast her eyes around desperately for the Matron, but she was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, the twins wouldn't have done this to her if there were any chance of getting caught. She squealed through the improvised gag as Jessica teased a feather over her nipple and blew gently on it. Natale strained against her cuffs but it was no use. Tears flowed freely down her face as her sensitive skin was assaulted by the vengeful twins.

Amber walked outside again, gathered some more wood, and brought it back; when she entered the hall again, Natalie was still at the twins' mercy, howling with choked laughter. When she came back again they were still at it; only on the third trip she made after they had started did they release their poor captive. Natalie profusely apologized and promised never to tease the twins again.

“We're still friends, aren't we?” asked Natalie.

“Of course,” said Amanda with a smile. “Now get back to work, lazy girl,” said the twin with a smirk as she slapped Natalie on the ass. Bleary eyed, Natalie helped the other two slave girls finish their chore. When the fireplace was ready the slave girls set up chairs and tables in the large dining area; Amber figured some kind of feast was being planned.

In the afternoon, Amber and Lydia returned to Keira's house, their work at the temple finished. Keira allowed them to remove their belts, but only to relieve themselves; after they had done so, they went right back on. The two slave girls spent most of the day in a daze, quietly cleaning the house and waiting on their Mistress, in a constant state of arousal but unable to feel satisfaction. Finally, in the evening, Keira stood over her kneeling slaves in the bedroom, and Amber hoped that this pleasant torment would at last be finished.

“I will allow one of you to climax tonight,” said Keira. “The other girl will sleep in her cage for the night. This is an important lesson.”

Amber and Lydia knelt in stony silence, waiting for their Mistress to continue.

“The one who will endure the most cane strokes will spend the night in my bed,” Keira explained. “The other goes to her cage. Understood?”

The kneeling young women nodded and said ”Yes, Mistress.” Amber wondered what sort of cruel lesson this was supposed to be. She was trained well enough by now that she did not give a word of protest.

“Will you endure ten strokes?” asked Keira to each of them. They both nodded. They knew she meant serious, welt-inducing strikes; not the milder stings that were sometimes used in light punishments. “Fifteen?” Again, they both nodded. “Twenty?” Lydia flinched, but reluctantly said yes. Amber did the same. “Twenty-five?” Amber said yes, but Lydia hesitated before finally, timidly saying yes again. But at the prospect of thirty, she blanched and said no more. Neither girl had endured that many full, hard strokes in one session before. Keira then looked at Amber, who gulped, looked Keira in the eye and said that yes, she would.

While Lydia continued to kneel, Keira took Amber and attached her cuffs to the familiar spreader bar, and spread her legs apart, taking her belt off and chaining her ankles to the ring bolts on the floor. She would not be able to move or even try to protect herself now.

“If you cannot endure,” said Keira, “You will go to your cage for the night and the belt will go back on. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Amber in a low, meek voice. Keira brushed Amber's long hair over her shoulder, exposing her whole backside.

While Lydia remained motionless, Keira retrieved her lacquered cane and approached the helpless, spread-eagled blonde slave, pacing behind her and flexing the cane. After a couple swings in the air, she struck Amber's bare flesh across the bottom, eliciting a sharp cry from the helpless captive. She delivered more blows, creating a series of even stripes on Amber's back, upper legs and ass.

Amber began to regret her decision, and inwardly wondered if she could take much more. She tried to hold her tongue at first, as though it would somehow make it easier to endure, or perhaps out of some last vestige of pride, but after ten strokes she could no longer hold her cries. As the count approached twenty she sobbed in earnest, and her head bowed lower and lower, her long hair falling forward to cover her tear-streaked face. Her whole backside was on fire; now each stroke seemed to hit a welt that a previous one had made, making her practically scream. The last ten strokes only served to prolong the pain, as it had reached a crescendo.

But as the last ones were being delivered, Amber seemed to enter a kind of trance; she still cried out with each sting, but it was more out of habit than genuine pain. Time was suspended for her and, having retreated to her own private place inside her head, she felt she could endure thirty more strokes if she had to. The pain didn't matter so much anymore. Just as she was sinking deeper into her dreamlike haze, the whipping stopped, and Keira came around in front of her, lifting her chin up to look her the eye. Keira smiled, and kissed her on the forehead.

“You took that well.”

Amber was overcome with a powerful feeling of love for Keira, the woman who had just caned her so fiercely. For some reason, the compliment was enough to practically make her swoon. She would do anything to please her she thought. She didn't quite understand the feeling or where it came from, but she accepted it all the same. She let her head fall against Keira's bosom, as her Mistress stroked her hair and kissed her affectionately. Despite all the pain she had inflicted, Amber felt utterly safe in Keira' arms now. Keira went to her table and picked up a jar of soothing ointment, and gently rubbed it on Amber's back, her fingers moving delicately over her prized slave's welts and bruises. Amber flinched at the touch on her sore skin, but was grateful for the relief the ointment provided.

Keira next turned to Lydia, lifting her by the arm and binding her wrist cuffs together behind her. Her belt was removed as well but Lydia, knowing the belt she would not be able to satisfy herself, muttered a small protest, only to be quickly hushed by her Mistress.

“You have to learn patience,” said the Amazon. Lydia nodded meekly and lay down in her cage, dozing off to sleep after a long day's labors.

Keira released Amber from the spreader bar and floor rings, and the blonde immediately dropped to the floor and kissed her feet, thanking her for her discipline. Keira brought her over to her own bed, and Amber wasted no time in helping her Mistress undress. The two of them lay down together and embraced passionately. Keira thrust her fingers deeply into Amber's soaking wet pussy. The cane strokes had caused her to feel more than pain, it seemed, and after being aroused more or less all day, Amber achieved her first orgasm almost immediately, exhaling in a descending series of moans. She made love to Keira long into the night, until they were too tired to do anything but lie in each other's embrace.

Amber lay her head against Keira's breast, kissing her Mistress's nipple and muttering something under her breath as she drifted into a blissful sleep. “I'm yours, Mistress” seemed to be what she was saying. Keira smiled affectionately at her and stoked her long, golden hair.

“Yes dear, you're all mine,” she said.

* * * *

The next day proved to be an eventful one. Amber had correctly surmised that a feast was being planned in the Matron's temple, and Amazons from many other tribes arrived in Timberwood throughout the day as guests. Most of the local slave girls were busy serving and waiting on the various free men and women throughout the day. The first thing Keira did in the morning, however, after having taken breakfast with her two lovely slave girls was to take them down to the blacksmith in the town square. Upon their arrival in the hot, smoky shop she ordered them to kneel. The Amazon smith, a large, powerfully built woman, greeted Keira warmly.

“Ready for the piercing?” asked the smith. Keira nodded.

“I want to get it out of the way as soon as possible, please,” she said to her friend, and then gave her a couple of coins.

“I have some herb that will dull the pain,” said the smith. “Bring them up here to the table.”

Keira took Lydia first, and made her get on her hands and knees on top of a stone table. The brunette slave's wrist and ankle cuffs were bound in place. Lydia wondered what was meant by “piercing.” She looked at Amber questioningly, but her fellow slave only shrugged. Their ears and nipples were pierced already; what else could be done? Then, she felt the smith's rough hand rub something against her labia, and she felt her heart leap in her chest. They weren't going to put a needle through that part of her, were they?

She couldn't help but whimper a little, and Keira cradled her head to comfort her. Lydia felt the tender skin between her legs go a little numb, and soon a hot, sharp needle was pushed through the two outermost folds of skin, sterilizing and cauterizing the small holes it made. Lydia closed her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth. The smith put a small brass ring through each hole, sealed them in place, and Lydia was unbound from the table. She knelt down on the dirt floor again, her nether lips throbbing but not in excessive pain. Next it was Amber's turn, and she endured the same procedure as stoically as she could, more frightened than hurt. Keira commended her slaves for their bravery and showed them two small metal locks she had purchased. She commanded each girl to open her legs, and she then closed the lock around the new rings on each girl's labia, effectively closing off their most intimate areas until she chose to open them again.

“There,” she said. “That should keep you out of trouble.” Keira kept the small key to each lock on a cord around her wrist. Satisfied with her handiwork, she sent the girls to work for the day.

* * * *

Amber was sent to the great dining hall in the evening, just before the Amazons began their feast. She was not to be a serving girl for that evening, she learned; rather, the Matron had chosen her and a few of the most attractive slave girls to be “decorations.” Keira had arranged her hair carefully. A braid circled around Amber's head, and the rest of her long hair was braided down to her waist as well. Flowers were arranged around her head like a wreath, and her skin was creamed and perfumed. Once she arrived in the hall an Amazon took her and placed a metal bar across her back, to which her collar and wrist cuffs were attached, holding her hands in a raised position. A section of the long table was removed and Amber was placed, kneeling, in its place, and made to hold a pair of wine glasses in each hand. Careful arrangements of fruit and of flowers was placed on the table in front of her breasts and against her back. Amber turned her head as best she could and saw a few other pretty slave girls bound as she was at regular intervals along the table. Others were bound against the wall, arranged in a row like trophies of the Amazons'. She sighed with resignation; there was nothing to do but wait and look pretty until someone released her again. She made a fancy centerpiece for the table; the guests took the glasses from her hands when they wanted to drink and put them back again afterwards. Out of kindness they sometimes fed her scraps by hand.

Earlier, while the guests were still taking their seats, Natalie went to Amber and whispered to her.

“Just don't think about itching, whatever you do,” she whispered with a sly grin.

“Don't do that, or I'll have to kill you, and that would get me in a lot of trouble,” Amber whispered back.

“I'm only joking,” said Natalie an apologetic smile. “I don't think I'll be teasing anyone again; I learned my lesson.”

“I'll bet you have,” said Amber jokingly.

“Here, take this.” Natalie held a cup of wine to Amber's lips, and the bound slave sipped gratefully. “Do you remember how to pick locks?”

“Yes; I think I can do it now, but I'm not going to get into trouble,” said Amber.

“Too bad, it's fun,” said Natalie. She gave Amber a quick kiss on the cheek and returned to serving the Amazons before she was punished.

The Princess Penelope seemed to be the center of attention. She sat at the end of the long table, surrounded by her Amazon friends and guests, talking to several people at once. Talia, her faithful slave, looked extremely proud; she attended her Mistress so closely and asked if she needed anything so many times that Penelope sent her away for a while. Later Amber saw Talia approach the slave girls chained to the wall with a bowl of cool water, which she lifted for them to drink. Amber sipped gratefully when Talia offered it to her. She was becoming hungry and thirsty.

“You look radiant,” said Talia admiringly to her. “Isn't this wonderful?”

“I suppose so,” said Amer with a little less enthusiasm. “Do you know what they're talking about?”

“Some sort of alliance, I think,” said Talia. “I know they're planning something big and important.” She shrugged as though such matters did not concern her any more. Amber supposed no one was going to bother to explain anything to a lowly slave, so she would probably have to pass the evening in boredom. She thanked Talia, who left to serve the other guests.

As the evening drew on, the Amazons drank more and grew rowdier. Slave girls were kissed, fondled and pinched wherever they went; Amber saw Lydia down on her knees with her head between a regal-looking woman's legs, satisfying her. Several men were availing themselves of the other serving girls' charms as well. Even Penelope seemed to loosen up and drop her royal reserve, if only a little, and enjoy the merriment.

Eventually the gathered people began to call out for a more formal amusement. Someone brought out a narrow table that was curiously arched. Amber had a clear view and could see there were rings bolted onto each corner; apparently it was intended to restrain a victim on its curved back. Chandra, the fierce dark-hared Amazon, stood by it, a flogger in her hand, and asked for someone to volunteer for a demonstration.

“Perhaps our guest of honer would like to demonstrate with her own slave?” she called out.

Penelope's smile waned. “I don't know if Talia's ready for that,” she said quietly, nervous but hesitant to refuse.

“Well, we can ask her,” said Chandra. Several people laughed at the remark. Talia, by then back at Penelope's side, bravely stood up and asked to be used. The Amazons were suitably pleased by her show of obedience. Reluctantly, Penelope raised herself from her chair and took Talia to the arch shaped table. The slave girl was laid out on her back, her stomach and pelvis forced upward by the curve of the table, her wrists and ankles bound at the lower corners. It was not obvious by its appearance, but this was a difficult, awkward position to be bound in, and slaves were not usually subjected to it except as punishment. Lydia had been left on such a table for hours once, by her cruel former Mistress, and shuddered as she turned and looked at Talia now.

Chandra ran her free hand over Talia's smooth skin and caressed her teasingly.

“You will come for us, slave,” she ordered.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Talia, looking to Penelope for reassurance. As long as her Princess was nearby, Talia showed no fear.

Chandra splayed the ends of the flogger between Talia's parted legs, teasing her sex, which gradually became moist with the anticipation. Talia felt everyone's eyes on her. The crowd was momentarily silent, bemusedly waiting to see if this poor slave would be able to achieve an orgasm in such a difficult position, or if Chandra would have to punish her instead. Either way, it would be entertaining for them. Talia's back, arm and thigh muscles were uncomfortably stretched over the arch of the table. After just a little while they ached and throbbed, and it was hard to breathe normally. But Talia, raised an Amazon, was no stranger to hardship and her face bore no hint of discomfort. Chandra began to flog her in earnest, not terribly hard but enough to elicit a small moan from her victim. She payed special attention to Talia's breasts, flattened as they were by her outstretched position, and her sex. Talia's nipples hardened as the leather straps came down onto her bare skin. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Penelope who held the flogger, and her arousal increased. Chandra twirled the flogger in the air, slapping the short whips against Talia again and again. She struck the slave girl between the legs repeatedly, and Talia's breathing increased in speed and intensity.

Penelope stepped in and requested that Chandra let her do the flogging, and Chandra handed the instrument over to her with a smile. There was scattered applause from the crowd, who wanted to see how well this “princess” could handle a slave. Talia smiled when she saw the beautiful Penelope standing over her, whips in hand. The fiery haired princess whipped Talia harder than Chandra had, and Talia seemed to become even more roused. Penelope held the ends of the flogger in her off hand and bent them back, snapping them at Talia's sex. The slave girl cried out in both pain and pleasure. Penelope repeated the motion several times, and then did it again to Talia's breasts. She rubbed the handle against Talia's moist pussy, and the bound young woman bit her lip and moaned heavily. As she seemed to be working up to a climax, Penelope slapped the flogger against her vulnerable sex again and again until Talia cried out in passion. Chandra ran her hand between Talia's legs and felt the wetness of her sex, satisfied that her climax was real. The crowd applauded and resumed their revelry.

Penelope unbound Talia and let her rub her sore muscles, and massaged her back. Talia knelt and kissed her feet submissively, then did the same to Chandra, and kissed the flogger when Penelope held it out to her.

“You did well,” said Penelope. “You should have a reward.” Some might have said she was being too indulgent to her slave, but Penelope was grateful not only for Talia's obedience, but that she had let Penelope impress her Amazon friends; by showing she could dominate a slave she showed she was one of them, and luckily Talia was a natural submissive. The brown haired woman looked at the floor meekly and hesitated.

“Go ahead,” said Penelope. “Tell me what you want; I won't be angry.”

“If it pleases you, Mistress,” said Talia humbly, “I would love for Amber to join us tonight.” She looked up at Penelope and blushed. “It's just...she looks so beautiful, like you...”

Penelope gently put a finger to Talia's lips. “Say no more,” she said. “I'll ask Keira if Amber can spend the night with us.”

“Oh, thank you, Mistress!”

As the guests and native Amazons retired for the evening, Amber stepped softly through the corridor to Penelope's guest chamber. She opened the door to a spacious, comfortable looking bedroom—a much more inviting one than the cell in which Amber had stayed on her previous visit to the Matron's temple as a punishment. Penelope sat on one of the low, cushioned sofas that the Amazons preferred as furnishings, combing her radiant hair with one hand and holding an expensive looking mirror in the other. She wore only a silk robe, opened in the front so that it exposed her beautifully formed breasts almost to the nipple. Behind her, Talia massaged her Mistress. Penelope smiled warmly at Amber.

“You're looking very beautiful tonight,” said the Princess. “Come here.” Amber blushed and went into the room, kneeling on the soft carpet in front of Penelope. The Princess took Amber's chin

in hand and examined her. Compared to Amber's, the Princess's face and lips were a little wider and fuller, and her figure was more rounded. Amber thought she looked perfect.

“Come onto my lap,” said the Princess invitingly. She put her comb and mirror aside. When Amber rose, Penelope put her face down over her knee, and crossed Amber's wrists behind her. Amber wasn't sure how to feel. Penelope had been her superior back in old their home, but she had also considered her a friend; here, however, Penelope seemed to have fully adopted the Amazon outlook and regarded Amber as any other slave. She slapped her hand on Amber's bottom several times, leaving red, hand shaped marks on the younger woman's pale, creamy skin. Amber winced but made no sound; the Princess was only playing with her. Amber had once fantasized about this; she could hardly believe it was coming true! She could not control the arousal welling between her legs. She had thought it might be awkward coming here to see Penelope, but instead she felt terribly excited.

“Now, what am we to do with you tonight, h'm?” asked Penelope softly.

“Whatever you want, Mistress,” said Amber with a smile. She found she liked being under Penelope's control. It was a different feeling than she had with Keira; she supposed every Mistress felt different. Penelope was just as confident and commanding, but more gentle and feminine at the same time. Amber felt the same maternal warmth that she had from the Matron.

After reddening Amber's bottom, Penelope had her stand up.

“Why don't you and Talia enjoy each other for a while?” she said.

“Yes, please, Mistress,” said Talia gratefully. Talia took Amber by the hand, and the blonde woman meekly followed her to the bed. Together they sat down, and Talia took Amber in her arms almost immediately. Talia had a sweet, expressive face, Amber thought, and her shining brown hair had grown out a bit since they had last been together intimately. Her figure was still lean and athletic from her Amazon upbringing, and Amber found her quite attractive. Talia devoured Amber's breasts, and ran her fingers luxuriantly through her fellow slave's long golden hair. Amber closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. At times like this, she thought, she loved being a pleasure slave. What better occupation could there be than to bring such joy to others?

Talia straightened her leg out and Amber straddled it; she felt a pleasurable pressure as her pussy lips rubbed against Talia's. She hoped the new rings on her labia didn't irritate her fellow slave; they didn't seem to so far. At least Keira had removed her lock for tonight. They kissed each other passionately on the lips, and Amber felt a mounting surge of ecstasy building deep inside. As she moaned louder, she heard Penelope's voice commanding them.

“Very nice, girls,” said the Princess. “But you don't want to come before your Mistress, do you?” she asked. Talia quickly sat up on her knees and shook her head guiltily. Amber sat up as well, waiting patiently for Penelope's next command. The Princess had obviously been enjoying watching the slave girls make love; her robe was undone and one of her hands was rubbing her nipple. She had also picked up a long, thin switch that she held in her other hand.

“Do you want to come and suckle me?” she asked Talia, who nodded eagerly. Amber answered yes to the same question. Penelope beckoned them and the knelt before her, each slave girl taking one of her exquisite breasts in their mouth. Penelope encouraged them with her switch, and Amber felt the sharp sting on her backside if she was not enthusiastic enough. After a few minutes of the slaves' pleasant attentions, Penelope stood up and let her robe fall to the ground. Amber looked at Talia and saw a look of sheer adoration; as attracted as Talia had been to Amber, no one could replace her Mistress. Penelope took the girls to bed, tethering their neck collars with long leashes to ring bolts on each side. It was a formality, of course, but it reminded Amber than however close she had been to Penelope before, she was just a slave here and now. They did not sleep a great deal that night, as the Princess availed herself of her willing and eager slave girls' affections. Amber heard a gentle rain falling outside that made her feel even more comfortable in the bed, and wished the night would never end.

“It will be a while before I can rest like this again,” said Penelope. Amber asked what she meant, but the Princess told her not to worry. Amber guessed she was thinking about whatever plans she had made with the Amazons.

* * * *

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 15: Whitehaven

On a fine summer evening in the splendid manor of Whitehaven, situated in Avalonia, a Baron named Geoffrey sat at his customary seat at the end of a long table in his dining hall. Or rather, he had managed to stuff himself into it; in his later years, he had let his once fit, muscular physique go to waste and had grown quite large, with a protruding belly and ungainly jowl that rippled whenever he spoke or ate. He stuffed himself with meat and gorged himself on wine, as was his habit nowadays, scowling at the servants who waited on him, who were lucky to eat half as much in a typical day.

Nearby, his wife ate a little and tried to hide her disdain for this evening ritual, wondering what had become of her formerly handsome husband. At least she could boast of being beautiful; neither of them had ever been particularly kind or pleasant, or loyal for that matter.

The heir to the throne, Penelope, had gotten some foolish notions about equal rights for peasants and an end to serfdom that would have reduced the nobles' power and revenues. So, the couple had insinuated themselves into the inner circle of Penelope's stepmother, Eleanor, and helped overthrow her stepdaughter, winning a more lucrative position for themselves at the royal court.

Now the husband spent much of his days indulging himself in various pleasures such as food and women; his wife would have been angry at his philandering a few years ago but was now indifferent, as she had become rather repulsed by him. Geoffrey was annoyed by her inability to produce a son; so far they only had useless teenage daughter and a niece they had tried to marry off before she had run away.

The house was surrounded only by a stone wall with an iron gate; it was not nearly as well defended as Emerald Keep, Queen's palace. That was why the Baron's supper was rudely interrupted by his chamberlain, who rushed noisily into the dining hall yelling something about invaders and women with spears. The Baron tried to hush him but he insisted on trying to warn the Baron of some impending disaster, so Geoffrey lazily pulled himself out of his chair—no small feat for one as large as himself—and told his chamberlain to muster his guards. The chamberlain responded with some story about the guards being overwhelmed and scattered; they had, in fact, been caught by surprise by a fierce band of strangely dressed female warriors who had managed to scale the castle walls. As this was being explained in hurried tones, the door to the hall abruptly burst open and several foreign women, armed and armored, walked into the dining hall.

“What's the meaning of this?” demanded Geoffrey angrily. His pasty face was pink with rage now, as he was not used to uninvited guests, especially during his precious supper time. “Do you know who I am?”

“Are you the master of this castle?” asked one of the strange women impudently, showing no deference to the man of noble rank.

“I am the Baron of these lands, Treasurer to the Queen, and--” before he could continue reciting his various titles, a short spear was thrown in his direction, catching him right in the upper chest. He gurgled blood for a moment before collapsing to the ground with an ignominious thud. The female warrior looked at the chamberlain, who was scared out of his wits.

“You are a servant?” the woman asked. When he nodded, she pointed to the body. “Clean that up,” she ordered. The chamberlain went and gathered several strong men to help him move the unmourned Baron's body.

The late Geoffrey's wife was more diplomatic. “Please,” she said, “There is no need for violence; tell me what you want and I will oblige you.” She looked uneasily at the women who all held spears and swords.

“My name is Keira,” said the woman closest to her. “I am the Matriarch's daughter, and these lands are now our property.” The noblewoman didn't know what that title meant but she did not argue. Immediately the women fanned out and secured the room before moving on to the other areas of the castle grounds. Resistance to them was disorganized at best.

“I am the Lady Isabelle,” said the noblewoman, standing and bowing gracefully.

“I know,” said another woman who entered behind Keira.

Isabelle was shocked to see Penelope, the golden haired princess, stride into the hall carrying a spear and wearing some kind of armor and leather coating.

“Why,” Isabelle stammered, “I'm so relieved to see you alive and well.”

“I doubt that,” said Penelope. “You weren't so glad when you rebelled; your lands are forfeit, now, as are your titles and property.”

“Please,” said the noblewoman, “Execute me if you wish, but spare my daughter.”

“Your daughter took special delight in tormenting me while I was in prison,” said Penelope. “She deserves at least the same as you.”

“That may be a bit harsh,” said the woman who called herself Keira. Penelope looked at her questioningly. “Could we not claim them as spoils?” the Amazon asked.

“Well...” said the princess, weighing Keira's offer with her sense of justice.

“I'll buy their lives from you,” said the Amazon. “Will that satisfy?”

“All right,” said Penelope. “I'll let them live. You can have them for free; they're not worth anything to me.”

Keira was now looking at Isabelle in an odd way. The baroness had strawberry blonde hair and an hourglass figure she was quite proud of, as she had had to work hard to maintain it after giving birth to her daughter at a young age. It was not uncommon for women then to be married in their mid teens, but the strain of childbirth for Isabelle had been such that she could not have another child. She had tried her best to look beautiful for her husband, but he had looked at her with disdain afterwards and they had both sought pleasure elsewhere. Still only in her early thirties, she was very lovely, with bright eyes, prominent cheekbones and full lips. Keira seemed to be admiring her, and Isabelle shifted uncomfortably.

“You are my property now,” said the brunette haired Amazon. “I claim you as a spoil of victory; come with me now.”

“Wait—isn't there something I can give you instead?” asked Isabelle worriedly.

“Your lands and valuables are being divided as we speak,” Keira explained. “What I want is you.”

“I have no choice, then?” asked Isabelle worriedly. Her eyes seemed to be on the verge of tears.

“She has saved your life,” said Penelope coldly. “No real harm will come to you.”

With that, Penelope and Keira took Isabelle firmly by the wrists and led her to the Baron's throne room. There, numerous Amazon warriors had gathered and were discussing strategy among themselves. Isabelle saw her daughter Helen, seated in a chair with her arms bound behind her back, looking on fearfully. The daughter took very much after her mother, and her father had intended to marry her off to some rich old lecher, much to her disdain. At least Helen would now be spared that fate, whatever else happened.

“Now,” said Penelope, “Is there any one in the family who is still loyal? I will restore the lands to them, if so; it is only just.”

The chamberlain spoke up. “Baron Geoffrey had a niece, but she has been missing for some time,” he explained.

“Perhaps we can find her,” said Penelope. “In the meantime, we need to find the old Captain of the guards; he was always loyal to me.”

* * * *

The man to whom Penelope referred was sitting in a dungeon cell, next to that of another noblewoman who was also loyal to Penelope. They had both languished there for some time, stubbornly refusing to submit to Eleanor, the usurper. When Thomas heard the solid wood cell door move, he tensed his muscles and hid behind it as it opened. Someone entered and he lunged to grab them. He was surprised to find it was a woman, who suddenly shifted her body to catch his arm and twist it behind him.

“Are you Thomas?” the woman asked politely.

“Yes, my lady,” he said, and suddenly dropped to the floor, swinging his foot out to knock her over. She fell but recovered quickly, and drew a sword to point at him.

“I am Most pleased to meet you,” she said, again with courtesy.

“Where does a woman learn to fight?” he asked.

“My mother, of course,” the woman said. In the dim light Thomas could see she was a comely woman, with pitch black hair and keen eyes. She could certainly handle herself. “Penelope would like to see you,” she added.

“Oh...why didn't you just say so?” he asked.

“I thought you were flirting with me,” said the woman. “My name is Chandra. This way, please.”

“There's a friend of mine, Anne, in the next cell.”

“I'll release her right away.”

* * * *

“These are...interesting friends you've made,” said Thomas to Penelope, happy to see his rightful Queen again. Hi face was a little haggard, and he looked underfed, but he was still in his prime and could wield a sword as well as anyone in Penelope's kingdom.

“I've done the best I could...and not badly, if I do say so myself,” said Penelope. “I remembered that there is siege equipment stored here we can use to launch our attack. If we catch Gwendolyn and Eleanor in the palace, their rebellion will be over.”

“It's not that simple,” said Thomas. “The palace is huge, with thick walls, and we are still outnumbered.”

“That's why I need you,” said Penelope. “Do you think the soldiers are still loyal to you?”

“I would bet most of them would still follow me, and you, if they had the chance,” Thomas nodded.

“Good. That will be our next task,” said Penelope.

Thomas sat up and stretched. “I need a sword...it's been too long since I held one.”

“I'll get you one,” said Chandra, standing nearby. “You can practice with me.”

Thomas thought the idea of fighting with a woman was strange, but he accepted the offer.

“Be careful,” said Penelope with an amused smile. “If you're good enough, she might want to marry you. It's their custom.”

When Chandra went to the armory, Keira got ready to train the new slaves that evening—it was always fun to break in a new one.

* * * *

Claire was cleaning her Mistress's room the next morning, as was her normal routine, when news of the Amazons' first small victory arrived. Dawn came in and Claire smiled at her, but Dawn seemed preoccupied. The teenage Amazon sat on the bed and looked at her beautiful slave thoughtfully.

“Can I do something for you, Mistress?” asked Claire.

“No...I'm just thinking,” said Dawn. “You've been good, Claire. You're an obedient slave. It'll be sad to see you go.”

Claire's face fell. “Are you sending me away? Did I do something wrong? Please, I can--”

“It's nothing you did,” explained Dawn. “You're free now. You have a castle or something, and your own lands. You have to go there.”

“But I don't want to go home,” said Claire. “I want to stay with you, Mistress.”

Dawn sighed. “We probably couldn't be together forever,” she said. “And someone has to manage your lands. It's time to go.”

Claire's eyes watered. “But isn't my family still there to run things?” she asked.

“Nope,” said Dawn. “You're the one that has to take charge, they say. Penelope wants you to come right away.”

Claire sat and let it sink in. As long as she had no property or family, she could beg the Amazons for sanctuary, and they would take her in. That was no longer the case; she could support herself now. She greeted the news of her uncle's death with utter indifference, but she was a little concerned about Isabelle and Helen, even though they had rebelled. Keira would probably sell them to another Amazon. At least they would be cared for, Claire thought; hopefully they would be kept together. The Matriarch, Sheila, often made allowance for such situations.

She made love to her young Mistress one last time, but not until after Dawn had removed her collar and cuffs. It saddened Claire to see them taken off her. She had felt secure in them; as long as she had worn Dawn's collar she knew where she belonged and that there was someone to protect her. Now she had to manage her family estate and would have no such assurances.

* * * *

Claire fidgeted in her fine new clothes; they felt unnatural and cumbersome to her. She walked in shoes again to her manor house, where she was greeted by a beautiful, well dressed woman in her mid thirties; the woman had long golden hair and pale, creamy skin. The woman carried herself with great poise and grace, like a noblewoman, but looked as though she hadn't eaten in days. Her figure was too thin to be healthy, and her rosy cheeks had sunk in just a little. She had been organizing the servants while they waited for Claire.

“My name is Anne,” said the woman. “I would like to ask you for employment here, if I may; I have no other place to go.”

“Of course,” said Claire. “You look terribly pale and thin,” she added. “You must eat something.” Claire took a quick liking to Anne. She seemed to know how to handle things, and she showed Claire around the castle grounds that the redheaded woman hadn't seen in a year.

“I was recently a guest in the dungeon,” Anne explained, with a touch of bitterness. “Penelope was able to free the prisoners who were still loyal to her, fortunately.”

Anne was fascinated by Penelope's new allies. The strange warrior women had situated themselves in the manor for the time being until they could make their next move. Some of them casually offered to share a bed with Anne, whom they found very attractive. Anne was shocked by their frankness.

“Don't be alarmed,” Keira had told her. “It's our way.”

“I see,” said Anne. “And all of you can fight?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm,” said the noblewoman. “There may be hope for us after all.”

Claire put Anne in charge of the other servants and hired hands. She was afraid of her own decision making abilities; she didn't know how to farm and manage land, collect revenues, or solve problems they way a noble was supposed to. Claire was more used to being told what to do. Penelope helped a great deal, but she could not always be around; she had to plan a way to get her kingdom back.

After a few days Anne looked much better; her admirable figure filled out again, and the color returned to her lovely face. One evening, as she served Claire tea by the fireplace, the redhead asked her where she had come from and how she knew so much about running an estate.

“I was born a noble,” said Anne. “I had a husband and a daughter. My husband, alas, was killed in battle and my daughter was taken from me when Gwendolyn took the throne. I no longer have any lands of own.”

Anne smiled sweetly and thanked her. She walked behind the velvet seat where Claire sat as she warmed herself, and began to massage Claire's shoulders. Anne's hands were skilled and soothing.

“Thank you, dear,” said Claire. Suddenly, she felt a stirring of desire for this beautiful woman. She turned her head and looked up at Anne, whose blue eyes sparkled in the firelight. Anne leaned her head down and kissed Claire on the lips.

“I'm sorry,” said the blonde woman with a blush. “Was I too forward?”

“Not at all,” said Claire with a smile. She rose and put her arms around Anne's neck. They locked their lips together passionately. Anne was not accustomed to making love to another woman; she had kept such feelings hidden when she was a noblewoman in her own home. Claire, however, had no such reservations and felt it had been forever since she had been satisfied, though it had only been a few days. Among the Amazons her life was one of constant pleasure, and she missed it. She led Anne to her bedroom, where she sat next to her and fumbled open the front buttons of her dress, revealing her silk brassiere beneath.

“You don't waste time,” said Anne, surprised at Claire's aggressiveness.

“Do you want me to stop?” asked Claire as she reached under Anne's blouse, feeling her soft, plump bosom and their hardening nipples.

“No, not at all,” the blonde woman replied. They embraced again, and Claire savored the sensation of Anne's breasts against her own. One problem with being a free woman, Claire discovered, was all the clothing she had to wear. It seemed to take forever to remover her dress, corset and stockings. As Anne slid a hand down between Claire's legs, she felt the shaved skin of her crotch.

“My my,” she said. “You're completely bare, dear.”

“Yes,” said Claire, blushing. “It's um, the custom where I come from.”

Finally she and Anne were nude together under the sheets of her bed, making passionate love until they were too tired to continue. Anne lay her head between Claire's ample breasts, happy she was no longer lonely.

* * * *

Outside, under the starry night sky, Keira led Isabelle and her daughter to a hill that was covered with soft, springy grass. The Amazon laid out three metal stands and lit torches on them, forming a triangle around the hilltop. The light was still a little faint, and Isabelle could still see the stars overhead. The Amazon seemed satisfied with the mood she had created.

“What are you going to do with us?” asked Isabelle nervously. Keira put a finger to the former noble woman's lips and hushed her.

“You must speak only when spoken to, or ask permission,” said the reddish haired Amazon. “Next time you'll get a spanking.”

Isabelle was annoyed to be spoken to in such a manner, but kept quiet. Who knew what these fierce women were capable of? Helen, a girl of only seventeen, began to shiver, even though the night air was warm. They were both stark naked, and the Amazons had even shaved the hair between their legs! If Penelope had wanted to humiliate her as punishment for her rebellion, thought Isabelle, she had succeeded.

“Please,” said the daughter. “We didn't mean to rebel, really. There's no need to hurt us.” Keira cut her off with a quick swat on the bottom. Helen kept quiet. She was embarrassed to be out here, nude like her mother, her hands bound behind her so that she couldn't cover herself. The Amazons had put a collar around her neck that she couldn't remove, and Keira was leading her around with a leash like an animal. She wanted to cry, but Keira warned her that shame was unseemly in a slave, and she would be punished.

Keira stepped back to admire the new captives. Both had reddish gold hair and youthful, expressive faces. The mother obviously kept herself in excellent shape and the daughter was coming into her own as a noble born beauty. They would be more attractive if they didn't look so worried, she thought. She would help them overcome that, soon.

“Sit,” commanded Keira. Isabelle and Helen sat on the grass in the center of the torches. Keira unbound their hands behind them, secure in the knowledge that they couldn't get away from her if they tried. She lay Isabelle out on her back against the ground, fastening her wrist and ankle cuffs to four stakes in the ground, splaying her arms and legs out to her sides. She then took Helen and did the same with her, laying her next to her mother. The girl's lip was quivering, and Keira stroked her cheek and hair to comfort her. Next, the Amazon took a metal bowl of water and stirred something inside it. A crushed herb had been sprinkled into it, and Keira set it over one of the torch stands until the water boiled. A strange, sweet odor, unusually strong, began to emanate from the bowl. With a knowing smile, Keira set the fragrant bowl down between the helpless mother and daughter.

Isabelle felt her head spin as she inhaled the vapor. The herb was having some strange effect on her. She felt weightless, as though she were floating in the starry sky, and besides that she felt a sudden, intense arousal like she hadn't felt in years.

“Wonderful, isn't it?” asked Keira. Isabelle nodded and moaned deeply. Keira knelt next to her. She began to trace her finger around Isabelle's breasts, fingering her nipples until they hardened. Isabelle found she couldn't control herself; she suddenly yearned for this woman's touch. Keira ran her hand over Isabelle's skin, sending tingling sensations all through the older woman's body. As she inched closer and closer to Isabelle's sex, the captive's breathing intensified, and her sex moistened. She couldn't help herself. She wanted Keira to touch her there; her sex ached with desire.

“Beg me for it,” said Keira with a wicked smile.

Isabelle looked at her helplessly. What could she do? To go unsatisfied now would be an unbearable torment. She suddenly didn't care if her daughter was right next to her, she had to have release.

“Please, my lady...please, I beg you,” she said.

“Address me as 'Mistress,'” commanded Keira.

“Please, my Mistress, continue—don't stop,” begged Isabelle. She would call Keira anything she wanted, if only she would satisfy the gnawing hunger between her legs. Isabelle's breasts heaved, and her body glistened with sweat in the torchlight. Isabelle strained against her bonds but it was no use. Keira thought she looked very sexy, struggling helplessly, naked as she was.

“Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you,” said Keira. Isabelle winced; she couldn't say what she wanted in front of her daughter, could she? But Keira teased the lips of her pussy now, running a finger around the sensitive, wet skin.

Isabelle shut her eyes tightly and said “Fuck me, please,” abandoning all semblance of shame or dignity.

Keira obliged her and slid a pair of fingers into her wet sex, moving them rhythmically back and forth. It did not take long for Isabelle to achieve orgasm, with the help of the lilith plant that she continually breathed in. She cried out in a series of short, sharp gasps as her whole body quivered.

Keira turned her attention to Isabelle's daughter, bound next to her in a similar fashion. Far from feeling humiliated, the sounds of her mother next to her had only aroused the girl. Keira took Helen's young, jutting breasts in hand and kneaded them like dough, enjoying her firm, young body and soft skin. Helen sighed deeply and closed her eyes. Now that she knew she would not be hurt, she relaxed and gave herself over to Keira's attentions. Keira wanted to see the girl squirm a bit, so she slapped her breasts until she cried out. She then asked Helen what she wanted, and the girl quietly said the same thing her mother had. Her hormones were driving her wild; she had never felt anything like this before. Keira could tell the girl was a virgin when she felt the inside of her sex. Helen let out a yelp as she felt something inside her tear and bleed a little. Keira had taken her innocence from her, and wiped a cloth between the girl's legs until the blood stopped. She then bent her head between Helen's legs and found the bud of her clit with her tongue. Helen instinctively pulled at the cords binding her wrists and ankles as she arched her back, moving her hips rhythmically to the motions of Keira's tongue. She licked her lips and her face contorted sweetly as she experienced her first orgasm. As she continued to inhale the vapor of the lilith plant she found herself wanting even more.

Keira stepped back and picked something up. Isabelle recognized it as a flogger, and Helen whimpered nervously.

“Now,” said the Amazon, “Do you wish me to continue? Beg me, if you do.”

Helen and Isabelle both begged her, no longer caring how humiliating this was. All they could think about was the sexual satisfaction they craved.

“You will each count ten strokes of this flogger,” said Keira. “This is your first lesson. If you endure pain for your Mistress, you will be rewarded. The women nodded nervously. Keira brought the leather straps of the flogger down onto Helen's breasts, and slid them slowly off her, letting her savor the feel of the leather against her bare skin. Helen moaned a little and counted one, as she had been told.

“Good girl,” said Keira. She then did the same to Isabelle, who also counted. Isabelle's eyes began to water from the humiliation of being bound naked and flogged like this, but she obediently counted for fear that Keira might cause her serious pain if she didn't do as she said. Helen yelped each time the flogger hit her, but she counted clearly and distinctly, wanting to please and hoping she would stay on Keira's good side. Keira flogged their breasts, stomachs, legs, and drew an especially sharp cry from each woman as she slapped the flogger between their legs. Finally, when each woman's skin was good and reddened, they finished counting their strokes and Keira was satisfied for the time being.

She then proceeded to put the handle end of the flogger between Isabelle's legs and opened her sex with it. Isabelle eagerly spread her legs and accepted the hard leather phallus inside her, panting and moaning as Keira worked it back and forth inside her, until she cried out once again in climax. Helen looked at Keira in wonder as the Amazon stood over her, as though she wasn't certain what to make of her. She did not resist when Keira held the handle to her mouth, commanding her to suck on it and taste her mother's juices. Helen then felt the handle in her own sex and moaned softly, eyes closed, her voice growing louder and higher as the handle was thrust into her again and again. After her orgasm she relaxed contentedly, and ceased straining against her bonds.

Keira clipped a lead to each of their collars, and unbound their wrists and ankles. They rubbed their joints and sat up, and Keira fastened their collar chains to the stakes on the ground.

“Now this time,” she said. “You two will bring each other to orgasm.”

Isabelle looked up at her, aghast. “But...she's my daughter,” she pleaded.

“You are my property,” said Keira sternly, “And you will do as I command.” She snapped the flogger on the air as warning. Isabelle gulped. Helen, having just experienced her first orgasms, was more adventurous, and Keira guessed she was the more pliable of the two. The daughter gently put her hand on Isabelle's shoulder.

“It's all right,” she said gently. “I'll do it; just don't hurt us.” She raised her head up to kiss Isabelle, who did not resist her. It was awkward for them at first, but the lilith plant never failed. Soon, both women were aroused, and the shy kisses developed into a full blown passion. Helen sucked on her mother's breasts, eagerly throwing herself into this new experience. Isabelle arched her head back, eyes closed, as her daughter took her nipples between her teeth. She put a hand on Helen's sex and rubbed the girl's clit vigorously, sending shivers up the girl's spine and causing her to moan helplessly. When Keira didn't think they were going at it enthusiastically enough, she strapped them on the back with the flogger, and they did their best to please. Isabelle entwined her leg around Helen's and rubbed her pussy against her daughter's, until they both achieved orgasm together. They heaved sighs of pleasure in each other's arms and became shy again as their passions cooled.

Satisfied with their efforts, Keira led them back, leashed and bound again, to Whitehaven. She asked Claire what she wanted to do with the new slaves while they still resided at her manor. Claire was uncertain; it was hard for her to pass judgment on her relatives, treasonous though they were. She deferred to Anne instead.

“They're slaves now, so let them work in the kitchen, cleaning the pots and pans,” said Anne. “The scullery maids can spank them if they slack in their efforts.” Anne was not used to seeing to nude women walking around the house, but she knew what to do with a slave. Isabelle and Helen looked at the floor, not saying a word. Their humiliation was complete; they resigned themselves to their fate.

“May sure they share a bed at night,” said Keira. “That should help break down their inhibitions.” Claire agreed, and set the mother and daughter to work in the scullery.

* * * *

Later that night Claire summoned Anne to her own room, softly lit by candles. Anne smiled at Claire as she entered, and greeted her new lover with a sensuous kiss. She then noticed that Claire had retrieved a flogger from the dungeon, and laid it out on the bed.

“Are you going to punish one of the servants?” asked Anne. “I wasn't aware anyone had done anything wrong today.”

“It's for me,” said Claire. “I want you to whip me.”

Anne looked at her questioningly.

“I can't explain,” said Claire. “I just...I just need it. Please, indulge me.”

“Are you feeling guilty about something, dear?” Anne asked her.

“Yes—well, no, not really,” said Claire. “I just feel that I need it. I want you to do it, please.”

Anne, still unsure what was going on, picked up the flogger. “This can really hurt,” she said.

“I know. I don't want you to hold back.” Claire unbuttoned the back of her dress, baring her back to Anne, and lay face down over the edge of the bed.

“Please,” she begged.

Carefully, Anne snapped the short whips across Claire's back, not too hard.

“Is this what you want?”

Claire let out a satisfied sigh. “Yes,” she said. She closed her eyes. “Again, please.”

Anne struck her a couple more times. Claire remained motionless on the bed, her eyes still closed. “Harder,” Claire said.

Anne obliged, not knowing why her employer anted to be hit like this.

“Harder,” begged Claire. Anne whipped Claire hard enough to leave a reddish mark, and the redhead noblewoman cried out.

“I'm sorry,” said Anne.

“No, do it again,” said Claire. “If I scream, you'll know you're doing it right.”

Anne whipped Claire again and again, making her moan, worried how much she was hurting her. Finally she stopped, unable to bring herself to hurt Claire further.

“Thank you,” said Claire with a grateful smile, even though her eyes watered from the pain. “Don't tell anyone about this; it wouldn't do for them to know that the Lady of the manor is so...strange.”

“Of course not,” said Anne. “Let me get some salve for your back.”

That night, Claire practically pulled Anne into bed with her, and was more voracious than before; it was a long time before Anne could get any sleep.

* * * *

Amber and Lydia arrived by boat at Whitehaven, accompanied by a few other slave girls who were also coming to join their Amazon mistresses.

“This is my country, Avalonia,” Amber said to her fellow slave. “The Queen's palace, Emerald Keep, is further up the coast. It's quire a sight.” As they stepped off the boat, a vast green field spread before them, with Claire's manor house in the center.

“It's a beautiful country,” said Lydia. “I hope I get to see more of it.”

When they entered the manor house Keira greeted them and brought them upstairs. She wanted to show them off to her new friends. When they entered Anne's bedroom, Amber's face turned beet red and she covered her sex and breasts immediately, ignoring weeks of Keira's training, much to her Mistress's annoyance.

“Mother--!” Amber blurted in shock.

“I wanted to surprise you,” said Keira to Anne. “Put your hands down, girl,” she scolded Amber. “I want your mother to see how nicely you've developed.”

Amber was horribly embarrassed, and Keira didn't understand why. Wasn't she proud of her beauty by now?

Anne smiled happily. She went up to Amber and embraced her lovingly. Amber pressed her head against her mother's shoulder.

“I didn't want you to see me like this,” she muttered.

“It's just their custom, dear,” said Anne. “I'm happy to see you, no matter what you're wearing. Or not wearing.”

Amber looked up at her, and a tear welled in her eye. “I've done things that, well....I'm not proud of,” she said. “You must be ashamed of me.”

“Nonsense, she's a wonderful girl,” said Keira. “And a skilled lover, too. Did you know she can--”

“Um, could we please not talk about that to my mother, Mistress?” begged Amber. Lydia, behind her, suppressed a giggle.

Keira shrugged. “She should be proud of you.”

Anne laughed again. “Yes, I am proud of her, no matter what. I don't care if you've slept with everyone in Avalonia, Calledon, and Corsinia combined,” she told Amber. She then turned to Keira and said, “When I have the means, I would like to buy her freedom, of course.”

“Oh,” said Keira with some hesitation. She looked at Amber longingly, but said “Of course. I'm sure Penelope can help you.” She couldn't keep the mother and daughter apart, she supposed.

“May I go now?” asked Amber sheepishly. She still didn't like to be nude in front of her mother.

“Very well,” said Keira. She let Amber and Lydia go to her own quarters.

“If you have any embarrassing stories about Amber's childhood, please share them with us, Miss Anne,” said Lydia with a smile as she left. Amber glared at her friend with daggers in her eyes.

For the time being Anne was only working as a servant, but Amber hoped she would be able to free her soon. Penelope could arrange something. The prospect thrilled her, but she felt sad too, that she would be leaving Keira. She began to realize just how much she had come to enjoy her sessions with her Mistress; the training and discipline was something she had grown to crave. Just my luck, she thought. I finally get a chance to be free, and I don't want to.

The Amazon Matriarch, Sheila, always said it was bad for discipline for a slave to go around unleashed and unsupervised, but when Amber found herself without any chores one morning, she decided to slip off for a quick wade in a stream that ran by Whitehaven. She felt the cool water up to her knees, and soon it was up to her waist. She continued down the stream innocently, not thinking about how far she had gone.

She was being careless, of course, and had forgotten that she was no longer on the island of Lyria, where the Amazons patrolled all the roads. She heard a rustling sound in the bushes along the stream and suddenly covered her breasts. She suddenly realized the people here would not be accustomed to the sight of a nude young woman walking around in broad daylight. As she backed away towards the bank, she felt a rough pair of hands grab her from behind. She tried to struggle, but the person who held her was much stronger, and a hand over her mouth stifled her screams. She was bound and gagged, and she could not clearly make out who her captor was as she was unceremoniously slung over their shoulder and carried away.

* * * *

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 16: The Battle

Amber stood in Eleanor's dungeon in Emerald Keep, her wrists raised over her head and chained with manacles that hung from the ceiling. The place was gloomy and damp, with mold on the walls and rusty chains everywhere. Not at all like the clean, well organized dungeon of the Matron, she thought. She was forced to wear a plain linen dress and conventional clothing underneath, for the first time in months. The decorative crystal she wore around her waist had been rudely snapped away, which had made Amber rather angry.

Now entered the palace interrogator, a large, barrel-chested man with large forearms. He was bald, bearded, and wore a black leather tunic and trousers. On a table behind him was an assortment of whips and floggers that he used to convince habitual, petty criminals the error of their ways. He gestured theatrically at the instruments on the table.

“It pains me to have to show such a fair and dainty young woman as yourself these things,” he lectured her. “But the Queen mother says you have not been cooperative, and if I must chastise you, well then, I must.”

Amber looked thoroughly unimpressed, and was bored.

“Now that you've seen this place I'm sure that you'll tell your Queen what she wants to know,” she continued. “Otherwise, I'll be inclined to turn you over my knee and give you a good what-for, eh? Now be a good girl and stop this silliness.”

“Oh,” said Amber, suddenly interested. “Are you going to spank me?”

“Don't joke with me, young lady,” said the man. “I'll do it, I will.”

“Of course,” said Amber. “I'm completely helpless. You can do whatever you want with me. Spank me, whip me, fuck me, whatever you want.” She gave the man a licentious smile.

“Now you just watch your language!” the interrogator said angrily. “That's no way for a well-bred lady to talk.”

“Aren't you going to have your way with me?” asked Amber, batting her eyes seductively. “I haven't had a good cock in days. If you won't beat me, I'll be going to sleep now, and tell Eleanor she can lick my pussy.”

The interrogator was flush with righteous indignation. “Why I never!” he said as he stormed out of the dungeon. Amber was disappointed, and bored again.

Upstairs, Eleanor waited impatiently for the interrogator's report.

“Well?” she said as he returned in a huff.

“That girl has a filthy mouth, I'll tell you that,” he said. “The things she said—they were really awful.”

“Did she say anything useful?” asked Eleanor.

“Not yet,” the interrogator said, still in a huff. “I gotta get myself together before I go back there, I tell you.”

“Strip the flesh off her back; that should get her talking. Or screaming, I don't care which.”

“Sorry, ma'am, I don't hit girls. It's unchivalrous.” The interrogator could not bring himself to do anything so uncouth as to strike a woman. On the rare occasion he had to question one, they usually spoke out under the fear of pain.

Eleanor steamed, bur maintained her composure. She turned to the interrogator's younger, less intimidating apprentice. “Fine, you then. Give her a taste of the flogger. Start lightly, but don't be afraid to hit her as hard as you need to.”

“Er, yes ma'am,” said the less confident apprentice. He went down into the dungeon. The chief interrogator muttered that he didn't think it was right, but didn't protest. Poor girl, he thought, foul mouthed or not.

A quarter of an hour later, the apprentice returned, looking dejected.

“What happened?” asked the queen mother.

“Couldn't get a thing out of her,” he said. “She just criticized me the whole time. No matter how hard I hit, she said I wasn't doing it right. And then I gave it all my strength, and she liked it. I mean, she really liked it. I'm no good at this. I should quit.”

“I told you, you have to think positive,” said the chief interrogator. “You won't get anywhere with an attitude like that.”

“That's enough,” said the Queen mother sternly. “You must ravish her. Mercilessly. When she is screaming and begging, she will be in the proper frame of mind to talk.”

“I can't do that,” said the apprentice. “I got a wife and kid at home. What would they think?”

“I'm not sure it would any good, anyway,” said the interrogator. “She seems to be some kind of...I don't know, masochist or something.”

“Maybe we could take her out to a nice dinner?” asked the apprentice. “If she's a masochist, she might hate that.”

“I don't want to sound like I'm shooting down your ideas,” said the interrogator, trying to be encouraging. “But the thing is, we can't--”

“Just shut up, both of you,” said the queen mother. “Go back to punishing pickpockets, I'll deal with this myself.” She stormed downstairs in a huff, and the two men were relieved to have the problem taken off their hands. If you wanted to torture someone properly, Eleanor thought, you had to do it yourself.

Eleanor entered the interrogation room of the dungeon with deliberate grace. The heels of her boots echoed ominously in the torch lit chamber. She smiled wickedly at Amber when she saw the helpless girl. The back of Amber's dress was open and her backside was a little red from the apprentice's amateurish attempts to flog her.

Eleanor was beautiful in her own way, tall and slender with pale skin and shining black hair, but Amber thought she wore a bit too much makeup, and that her corset was worn too tightly, probably in an attempt to emphasize her looks, as if she were afraid her beauty was fading with age. She had an attitude of one who expected to be obeyed, but did not radiate that quiet confidence of a good leader like Penelope or the Amazon matriarch, Amber thought.

“Hello, Amber, it's been a long time,” said Eleanor. “You were always such a nice girl; how did you come to use that kind of language, h'm?”

“Hello, Eleanor,” said Amber. “You were always a bitch.”

Eleanor caressed Amber's cheek, but the young woman snapped her head away. “So beautiful,” she said. “It would be a shame to leave you to languish here. You could be nobility again, with all your former property and privileges. All you have to do is what you refused to do before—swear your loyalty to me, and tell me what I want to know. It's that simple.” She picked up a bull whip from the table and walked around behind Amber.

“I would, my lady,” said Amber, “But there remains the same troublesome issue that divides us; namely, you being a bitch.”

She was loyal to Keira and Penelope, Amber thought to herself, and no one else. Of course, part of her oath to Keira was that she could not endanger herself in any way, which meant that she must cooperate with anyone who might threaten her. The Amazons held themselves responsible if a slave was kidnapped or stolen. Nevertheless, Amber felt the old stubbornness inside her again, the same that had resulted in her exile in the first place. Perhaps it was the sight of her old home and the feel of clothing again, but she felt just as she did when Eleanor had driven Amber's beloved princess from the palace months ago. She also felt that by submitting to this woman, she was somehow betraying her Mistress, and she would not let Eleanor win out over Keira.

Eleanor violently pulled Amber's hair back and put her lips to her ear.

“Listen, brat, you will tell me where Penelope is and what she plans or you will become a one woman brothel for the guards. You will never leave this place. Do you understand?”

Amber turned and tried to spit at her.

“I've been looking forward to this for some time, wench.” said Eleanor. She brushed Amber's long hair over her shoulder, exposing her back.

Snap! “Aaahh!” Amber's body reeled from the blow, and a horizontal red cut appeared on Amber's back. She felt a wet trickle of blood running down from the cut. She composed herself and stood straight again.

“Well, now you've done it,” she said. “I've got an itch on my back.”

Thwack! “Aaargh!” Amber winced, fighting back tears. Another cut formed on her back.

“Not there,” she said. “A little higher, please.”

Smack! “Oowww!” Amber took a deep breath and bit her tongue, intending to give Eleanor as little satisfaction as possible.

Snap! “Nnnngghhh!” She was able to keep her mouth closed for this one.

“You should get a man to do this,” she taunted.

“Your sarcasm won't save you, dear,” said Eleanor.

Slap! The whip wrapped around Amber's waist and struck her torso. She grunted in pain but remained stoic.

Snap! “OOOWW!” The tip of the whip struck her breast, and Amber began to sob. She wasn't sure how much more she would be able to take. This was not some training session, nor was it a measured punishment. Eleanor would not stop, no matter how much Amber was hurt.

“Has enough, yet?” asked Eleanor, enjoying her handiwork.

“I've had better,” said Amber, holding her tears in check.

Smack! “Oowww...” Amber moved her leg up and down after the whip struck her on the inside of her thigh. Eleanor knew what she was doing.

Eleanor snapped the whip across her back again, and again, and again. Amber cried out and sobbed uncontrollably. The dress was shredded. Her skin felt wet and sticky. It must be a bloody mess, she realized. Pain wracked her body as the whip viciously licked her skin, leaving bloody welts each time.

A single, stray thought entered her mind amid the clamor of pain: I let you down, Keira, she thought. I'm so sorry.

She realized she wasn't being whipped anymore. Her breathing was hoarse and ragged. Sweat mingled with blood all over her skin. Eleanor walked over to her and put her mouth to the prisoner's ear again.

“Now I'm just having fun,” she said with a sadistic smile. “A little vinegar can help sterilize a wound, you know,” she said. “Perhaps you need some.” She walked to a table and picked up a large jug, and brought it to where Amber hung bound.

Amber winced just as the vessel was lifted up over her back. When the bitter liquid poured over her bleeding skin, she screamed even louder than before.

* * * *

Some unknown time later, Amber stirred in her cell. Her back still throbbed, but the worst of the pain had subsided. She hoped there would be no infection, but she was certain she was in pretty bad shape. Her joints ached terribly. Eleanor had introduced her to a new device, an arched table like the one Amer had seen in the Amazon temple, but Eleanor's had a wheel fixed at each end like a rack. Amber had been stretched over it and felt like her limbs were being pulled apart, and Eleanor had whipped her again as she lay in agony. Still, Amber had told her nothing, and had mercifully drifted back into unconsciousness. She was at the ragged edge of her endurance now, and didn't think she could take much more.

She heard light footsteps coming down the stairs of the dungeon. She thought she was still dreaming for a moment, until the sight of the young Princess Gwendolyn—technically the Queen— outside her cell stirred Amber from her haze.

“What do you want, spoiled brat?” asked Amber indignantly. “Did Eleanor send you here?”

Gwen shook her head. “I'm starting to hate that woman, especially after I heard what she did to you.” The young Queen walked up to Amber's cell and pressed her face to the bars. She spoke to the captive earnestly.

“Just give Eleanor what she wants, and I'll get you out of here. We can be together,” she said.

“What do you mean?” asked Amber.

“You can be my maid,” said Gwen. “You can have all your things back. I'll treat you well. All I want is for you to make love to me. Being the Queen's lover has advantages, you know.”

Amber was a little taken back by Gwen's offer, but decided she could use the situation to her advantage.

“Why Gwendolyn, I'm flattered by your interest in me. If I had known; I wouldn't have insulted you so.”

“I forgive you,” said the young Princess haughtily. “You've suffered a great deal.”

“Do you have a hairpin, by any chance, your highness?”

“Of course,” said Gwen.

“May I borrow it, please; my hair is a mess...and perhaps a new dress? I would be ever so grateful to you, your highness.”

Gwen gave Amber her a pin, and left to find something less shredded for her to wear.

Amber took the hairpin and bent it into a long, thin rod. She began to work the lock of her cell with it. She tried desperately to remember what Natalie had taught her about picking locks. Fortunately, Gwen was not quite smart enough to be suspicious of Amber's request. After some careful maneuvering of the pin, the lock's tumblers fell into place and the cell door miraculously opened. Amber hurried to the table, and picked up a knife that lay there.

Gwen returned with a plain white gown for her to change into and Amber, weakened though she was, grabbed the young would-be Queen and held the knife to her throat.

“Please,” begged Gwen pitifully, “Don't hurt me. I'm sorry for all this, Amber.”

“Lead me out of here,” said Amber firmly.

“We can't leave,” said Gwen. “There are enemies everywhere outside.” Apparently, Penelope had returned, with allies to help her reclaim the throne.

“We have to let them in,” said Amber.

“I can't; they'll kill me,” said Gwen.

“You see me safely outside, and I'll see that you are safe when we get there, I promise,” said Amber. She bound Gwen to a chair for a moment while she changed into the new dress, and found a hooded cloak she could use to cover her face. Walking behind Gwendolyn, she would look like a servant. Before leaving, Amber looked over the table where the various instruments of punishment lay, and saw that Keira's decorative crystal and chain had been tossed carelessly among them. She grabbed it hurriedly and walked behind Gwendolyn out of the dungeon.

Gwen, with a concealed knife at her back, led Amber to the wall of Emerald Keep that faced the seashore. The rear entrance was used mainly by servants and merchants, to give them easier access to the palace from the sea docks. The guards had no choice but to open the gate on the orders of the terrified Queen, although they knew it was folly to do so. Gwen feared for her life too much to do anything else. Soon, Amazon warriors were pouring in, overwhelming the nearby guards. Gwen was taken prisoner and offered little resistance.

Amber was true to her word and elicited a promise from the Amazons that they would not harm Gwen before giving her over to them; she didn't think they intended to do so anyway. Amber suddenly felt dizzy; her ordeal in Eleanor's dungeon having taken its toll on her, and collapsed to the ground.

* * * *

Emerald Keep was a seemingly endless series of spires, buildings and gardens, surrounded by a thick wall. Once Amber had opened one of the gates, however, the wall ceased to hold back the Amazons and soldiers outside. With many of the guards having rallied around Thomas, their former captain, and Penelope, their rightful Queen, their were enough men and Amazons to decide the battle in their favor. Thomas took a party to search the palace for the usurper, Eleanor, but the wily woman had managed to slip out unnoticed. No matter, Thomas thought; she couldn't get far. It took the better part of the day to completely secure the palace grounds, so large were they. Eventually Penelope returned to the cheers of her supporters, and the rebellious servants and court nobles were safely imprisoned. Eleanor's popularity had plummeted soon after her coup, at any rate, when she had proved to be nothing more than a petty tyrant. Penelope was a Queen again, back in her own palace.

Thomas helped gather and bury the dead throughout the rest of the evening. The battle had been short but fierce, and the Amazons' skill in war proved to be unmatched. As the sun went down, he saw Chandra approaching. She smiled at him.

“You fought well,” she said. “Especially for a man.”

“You're covered in blood, my lady,” he said, concerned for the woman who had rescued him from the dank dungeon in Whitehaven.

Chandra examined her clothes. “It's not mine,” she said. “Wasn't the battle glorious? I've always found combat to be very...stimulating.”

“You're not like any woman I've ever met—that much is certain,” said Thomas admiringly. Chandra took his head in her hands and kissed him fully on the lips, and he returned her embrace. They remained that way long after the sun had set.

* * * *

Dawn, the Matron's teenage daughter, happened to be waiting impatiently by a bridge over a nearby creek, slinging stones across the water. She was too young to fight in a pitched battle, and so she had been wandering around behind the lines. When she saw the strange woman galloping away, obviously a fugitive, she brought the rider down with a well aimed stone from her sling. The woman's horse continued to ride away. Dawn looked at the dazed woman curiously, examining her strange, fancy dress and curvaceous figure.

“Hello, beauty,” she said. The woman looked at her with confusion. Dawn removed the woman's hood and saw a lovely, pale face framed by silky black hair. She turned the woman over again and bound her hands behind her with her sling.

“Let...me...go,” the woman stammered. “I am the Queen Mother.”

“Oh...I know who you are,” said Dawn with concern. “Everyone is awfully mad at you. It's all right though. I won't let anyone hurt you. You're mine now.”

* * * *

Amber woke in her old room in Emerald Keep, thinking at first she was having a dream. When she came to her senses she noted the satin nightgown she wore and the soft cushions of her own bed. My own bed...It had never felt so wonderful to her. Her collar and cuffs had been removed, and she wondered why. Keira, she saw, was sitting next to her, as was her mother, Anne. A girl was resting her head in Anne's lap, it seamed; Amber's vision was still blurred. Keira pressed a damp cloth to Amber's forehead.

“Your fever broke,” said the Amazon. “You were delirious for a while, but I think the worst is over. You'll have some scars on your back, but that's all.” On the table next to her bed, Amber saw a bowl of water with an herbal mixture inside. She smiled at Keira.

“I've been bad,” she said guiltily. “I shouldn't have wandered off. Or provoked Eleanor like that.”

“Yes, and I would normally punish you, but you've been through enough already,” said Keira. “Besides, you're free now.”

Amber sat up, a look of joy on her face.

“Oh, thank you,” said Amber. “But...I'll miss you, Mistress Keira.”

“It's just 'Keira' now,” said the Amazon. “Your silence bought us the time we needed to catch Eleanor and Gwen in the palace. You've done well.”

“What will I do without you?” Amber wondered.

“There comes a time, dear,” said her mother, Anne, “When you have to take on adult responsibilities. It may be hard, but you must be your own person now.”

“I suppose so,” said Amber quietly.

“Besides, you've been entrusted with the care of someone else,” said Keira.

“Who?” Amber asked.

“Belle,” Keira smiled. At the mention of her name, Belle raised her head from Anne's lap and walked on her knees to Amber's bedside. Amber smiled and stroked the young blonde's hair. It was straight back now, and her makeup was gone. She wore a flimsy silk slip that hardly concealed her nakedness, and her tail was gone—Chandra had cut it off, and Belle looked like a normal teenage girl again, lovely and smiling. Belle laid her head against Amber's stomach.

“She's been by your side since you came in,” said Anne. “She's quite an affectionate girl. To bad the poor thing can't walk. What kind of 'slave' is she?”

“She's a sort of pet,” said Amber with a smile. “She can't do much in the way of chores, but she's very loyal.” She stroked Belle's head. The teenage slave looked up at Amber adoringly.

“Doesn't Chandra want her any more?” Amber asked.

“Chandra is going to get married,” said Keira. “She doesn't need anyone but her new mate now.”

“Do you want to be my pet, Belle?” Amber asked. Belle nodded eagerly. “Can I keep her, mother? Please?”

“Our family hasn't owned any slaves in quite some time,” said Anne. “I would prefer someone of more practical use, but I admit I've grown rather fond of her. She can stay with us as long as she behaves herself.” Belle walked back to Anne and kissed her hand submissively. Anne smiled and patted her head.

“I also have a gift for you,” said Keira. “Lydia, come in.”

Anne and her daughter watched the lovely dark haired girl enter the room and curtsy graciously. She was oiled and perfumed, and her hair had been neatly set and arranged into a braid around her head and curls that fell around her shoulders. She wore kind of eastern-style harem outfit to cover her nakedness now, with transparent silk leggings and a halter top. The cloth outfit did not cover much; in fact, the halter was open at the breasts, and Amber could see a pair of small jewels dangling from her nipple rings. Amber thought Lydia had never looked so beautiful.

Lydia bowed at Amber's bedside. “I want to swear myself to you,” she said. “Will you take me as your slave, Mistress Amber?”

“I don't know what to say,” said Amber. “This is more than I deserve.”

“She's yours, if you want her,” said Keira. “I know she loves you, and I think you'll be good together, but you'll have to be firm with her when necessary.”

“Can she cook or clean?” asked Anne. A pleasure slave might be seductive and beautiful, she thought, but sometimes they used that to get away with laziness.

“I can, my Lady,” said Lydia. “I'll do whatever Amber wants; I just want to be with her.”

“Well, of course, I'd love to have you,” said Amber. “I'll try to be a good Mistress for you.”

Lydia smiled and kissed Amber's feet, then kissed Anne's as well.

* * * *

Penelope sat on her throne in Emerald Keep once again, wearing a splendid white silk gown with ruffled lace. There were some differences from the last time she had sat there. Several colored feathers decorated the gold circlet that adorned her head, and she kept a sword at her side. Most notably a young woman, all but nude, now sat at Penelope's feet, with a golden collar and leash attached. She wore only a cloth thong and thin sash between her legs. It was a policy of Penelope's that slaves had to keep their sex covered while in her kingdom, as a compromise between the normal Amazon custom and her own peoples' more modest habits.

Talia, the slave girl, relaxed at the foot of Penelope's throne. Gold rings decorated her ears and nipples, with a thin gold chain connecting the latter. At her ankles and wrists were gold bracelets with rings that could be used to restrain her in any way Penelope wished. Talia looked up at Penelope lovingly.

“My Queen...” She said quietly to herself. “My I call you my Queen, Mistress?”

“Of course,” said Penelope, “But you must remain silent in my court, or I'll have to punish you.”

Talia nodded obediently. That was hardly a threat for her. She cherished any attention she received from her Queen and Mistress, whatever it was. She stood and picked up a tray laden with fruit and wine, and served Penelope's guests as far as the leash allowed her. Penelope didn't want Talia to to wander too far; she liked to look at her. Perhaps she would have Talia dance for the guests' entertainment; the slave girl had been begging for the opportunity. The courtiers were suitably impressed with the power of the returned Queen, who not only called on a tribe of fierce Amazons as allies, but even kept one chained at her feet! Talia served the nobles graciously and smiled as they admired her loveliness. She had never felt more proud.

Penelope took Talia's leash and led her outside to the courtyard. Her courtiers followed her. In the large open field, the former Queen Mother, Eleanor, was bound to a pole, her arms raised above her head. Her wrists had been tied around the pole so that she could not turn around to avoid the impending lash on her back. Instead of defiant, the queen mother seemed resigned, even dignified, as the back of her gown was cut open to bare her skin. A crowd of nobles and Amazons had gathered around the courtyard to watch.

A strong man with a whip approached Eleanor and without much ceremony began to lash it across her exposed back. He did not hold back, and the former Queen's skin was soon covered in red welts. Eleanor grunted and tried to keep her voice in check, but could not stop the flood of tears as she was chastised with a dozen stripes. She was fortunate, in fact; Penelope had felt obligated to execute her, but Dawn had pleaded with Penelope, who agreed to give Eleanor to her adoptive sister. She could afford to be lenient now.

Even so, the cuts on Eleanor's back were nothing to laugh at; they were deeper than a slave would probably be forced to endure under the Amazon custom. Finally the man with the whip relented and all agreed that Eleanor, her back bruised and bleeding, had been properly punished.

* * * *

Claire sipped tea at her table in her room at Whitehaven, alone. She seemed lost in thought, and a look of sadness crossed her otherwise lovely face. At that hour she heard a knock on the door. She went to answer it and found Anne standing there. Claire smiled, and embraced her.

“You wanted to see me?” said Anne.

“Come in, please,” said Claire.

She led Anne upstairs to the bedroom she was staying in, at the palace. The two women sat down.

“I have something I need to say to you,” said Claire.

“You must be angry with me,” said Anne. “I didn't mean to hurt you so.”

“No, that's just it,” said the redhead. “When you whipped me, it was...wonderful. I haven't been whipped like that in a long time.” Anne looked at her as though she had gone crazy. “Please let me explain,” Claire continued. “Since my time with the Amazons, I've come to love being a slave. I loved the punishment, the discipline, and the security they gave me; I always knew where I belonged and what I had to do.”

“We had slaves when I was much younger,” said Anne. “But we decided it was better not to. There are risks for a slave; your owner may not be concerned about your well being.”

“That's why I want you to be my Mistress,” said Claire. “You're so confident and intelligent. Me, I don't know what to do with my life, or how to manage money, or anything. I was going to go back to Dawn and beg her to take me back, but she's found someone new.”

“If you were a slave, I'd certainly be jealous of your owner,” said Anne. Her eye seemed to twinkle as she looked at Claire. “Come and bend over my knee.” The redhead did so.

“Lift up your dress,” said Anne. Again, Claire obeyed. Anne ran her hand along Claire's lacy silk panty, savoring the feel of her firm round bottom. “So lovely,” she said. She then gave Claire a generous swat on the bottom with her open hand. Claire moaned suggestively. Anne swatted her again on each cheek. Anne moved her free hand under Claire and cupped her breast, squeezing as she spanked her.

Claire continued to moan with contentment. She closed her eyes as Anne's firm hand came down on her exposed bottom again and again, sending ripples of both pain and excitement through her.

“Do you like that?” asked Anne.

“Very much,” said Claire. Anne reached her hand under Claire's panty and pulled it down to the woman's thighs. She felt Claire's sex and saw it was glistening with moisture.

“Yes, you do,” said Anne.

“Harder, please,” said Claire, and Anne obliged. She gave Claire's ass a slap hard enough to make her cry out. She turned Claire's head towards her, and saw an expression not of pain but desire.

Slap! “Oww!” Moaned Claire pitifully.

“Again, please?” Claire begged.

Smack! “OH!...mm, yes.” Claire licked her lips, and her moisture now ran freely down her thigh. She panted heavily and closed her eyes. Her sex swelled. Anne had never seen her so excited.

SLAP! She hit Claire with almost all her might. The redhead gasped and cried out in a sound that resembled an orgasmic rapture as much as a cry of pain. Anne stopped, not wanting to hurt her lover further, but Claire looked at her and pleaded with tears in her eyes. Now that she was roused, she had to be satisfied or she thought she would die. Anne obliged her with a few more hard spanks, and then rubbed Claire's pussy softly, fingering her clit. The beautiful redhead was so eager form the spanking and from days of deprivation that she climaxed after only a few moments of this attention.

“Now Claire, you have to understand,” said Anne, “I love you and I will do my best to take good care of you, but if I have a slave I will hold them to high standards, no matter who they are. I may not always be easy on you, for your own good.”

“That's what I want more than anything,” said Claire. “Please, train me any way you want, as hard as you want.”

“All right, we'll go and see the Queen,” said Anne.

* * * *

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 17: Even Tyrants Need Affection

A guard brought Eleanor out of her cell in the dungeon of Emerald Keep. The former queen mother's captives were all gone now, released and given new homes and means of support, or at least new owners who would better care for them. The woman with the lovely, oval shaped face, pale skin, dark hair and slender figure was seated in a chair, her arms cuffed behind the back, and her ankles to the chair legs. Her expression was one of resignation, but still proud in its way. She showed no outward sign of discomfort from the welts on her back, even as the chair pressed against them.

The guard left and a teenage girl—an Amazon, judging by her dress, entered with a tray of food and set it on a table next to Eleanor. It looked and smelled delicious, like a meal she would have eaten as Queen. She eyed the girl suspiciously.

“Who are you?” asked Eleanor.

“My name is Dawn,” said the young Amazon. “You're my captive. Here, eat up.”

“You are my jailer? Curious. Do you mean to humiliate me by this?”

“You're my responsibility,” Dawn answered her. “I must feed you.” Dawn cut a slice of meat and held it to Eleanor's mouth.

“What makes you think I will take food from your hand like an animal?” the woman asked indignantly.

“I can't release your hands unless you swear to obey me,” said Dawn. “Otherwise you might resist.”

“I see what you mean. That is, unfortunately, not a promise I am likely to make.”

“Then this is how you will eat,” said Dawn. “Go on.”

“I will not,” said Eleanor. “This is degrading.”

“You will eat because I said so,” insisted Dawn firmly. “You belong to me now.”

“You presume to command me?” said Eleanor with a curt laugh. “I strip the flesh off of girls like you; I do not take orders from them.”

“Strip the flesh? That seems pointless. There are lots of ways to inflict pain without scarring.”

“What do you know of torture, young one?”

Dawn walked to Eleanor and took her arm in hand. She felt for a certain pressure point and pinched it as she had practiced doing since her youth.

“OOOWWW!!!” A bright, searing pain shot up Eleanor's arm and down her spine.

She gradually recovered. “You have made your point,” she said. “I apologize.”

“No, I'm sorry; you didn't deserve that,” said Dawn apologetically. “I'll understand if you're angry at me.”

Eleanor looked at Dawn with hurt in her eyes. “Why do you care?”

“Because I like you,” said Dawn with a sincere smile. She reached out and brushed Eleanor's cheek.

The former Queen sighed with resignation and cast her eyes down. Even this teenage girl had more power than she now did. “I am nothing now. Leave me be.”

“You're very beautiful,” said Dawn. “That's something, for sure.”

“You are attracted to me, little one? I find that amusing.”

“Why? You don't like younger girls? I used to have an older woman as my slave. I loved her very much. I like you too.”

Eleanor met Dawn's gaze. “Well, I have known young women, just like you, as slaves in this dungeon. I would come down and beat them until they screamed for mercy, and then I beat them further still.”

“Well,” said Dawn, unimpressed. “Those weren't slaves; those were just prisoners.”

“Hmph. What's the difference?” asked Eleanor dismissively.

“When you release a prisoner, they go away. A slave comes back.”

“Then get yourself another slave, if that's what you want,” said Eleanor.

“That's why I'm here,” Dawn told her.

Eleanor looked at her, not with contempt or derision now, but with a face that was shocked and deadly serious. “No. I will not,” she said quietly.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Dawn asked her, with sympathy in her voice.

“I am.”

“Well,” Dawn sighed, “At least you have pretty ears. It makes me sad, though.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know, trophies. Like these.” Dawn showed Eleanor a string of dried human ears she had won in battle. “Not very impressive, I know...Uh oh, I think I lost one. Where did it go? Mother will be angry...wait...here it is. Got it just this morning.”

“You are trying to intimidate me,” said Eleanor, with just a hint of nervousness.

“I was trying to impress you, actually,” said Dawn. “To make you think I was a good protector.”

“Protect me? Why?”

“It hardly matters now,” said Dawn, sad that she would have to do this. She walked around the back of Eleanor's chair and put a knife to the woman's throat. “I'll make it quick,” she promised.

“What is this?” asked Eleanor nervously.

“An quick, painless death,” Dawn answered. “I'll miss you.”

“Wait. Please...why must you?”

“This is what you wanted,” said Dawn.

“I said I refused to be a slave,” said Eleanor.

“Then I have no other choice.”

“You can have anything of mine—anything!” Eleanor cried in desperation.

“I would have it anyway. It's you I want.”

“Is this not rash? Perhaps we could talk...a little further?” said the former Queen diplomatically.

“You haven't really decided yet?” Dawn asked her.

“I...I suppose not.”

“All right,” said Dawn as she removed the knife from Eleanor's throat. “You may have some more time. I'd like to get to know you.”

Dawn sat in front of Eleanor again and held up the slice of meat for her. This time, the former Queen took it in her mouth and ate wordlessly. Dawn gave her some more, with some wine to wash it down.

“You do not wish to know me, girl,” said Eleanor as she ate.

“My name is Dawn.” The teenage Amazon spoke with an authority that belied her years.

“Dawn, then. I am not someone you would be proud to associate with.”

“Why is that?”

“I am a failure. As a Queen, and as everything else. I have done...questionable things.”

“A slave's past doesn't matter,” said Dawn. “I still want you, and I'll make sure you behave.”

Eleanor laughed sardonically. “You truly do desire me, don't you?”

“I would like to have more of you than just your ear,” said Dawn earnestly.

Eleanor sighed. “I can't...I can't do it. I cannot be a slave.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Eleanor asked incredulously. “Because I desire power, like anyone else, that's why.”

“Dawn shrugged. “My slave never wanted power. She loved being punished. Why not try it yourself, if you have no choice?”

“Dis you punish her with endless questions? I preferred your other method.” said Eleanor.

“All right,” said Dawn apologetically. “This is the last one. Answer me and I'll leave you alone, I promise. What are you so afraid of?”

“If you must know,” said Eleanor, “When I was your age, I was subject to strict governess. She beat me harshly, and she took advantage of me intimately, as well. I was powerless, and humiliated. Is that what you wanted to hear? I swore it would never happen again.”

“I understand,” said Dawn sincerely. “My people do not condone abuse.”

“I don't want your pity!”

“I didn't say I pitied you,” Dawn replied, “I said I understood. And I don't think you told me the whole story.”

“I don't have to tell you anything.”

“You are ashamed because you like submitting, in spite of what happened to you, or maybe even because of it. You don't like to admit it, so--”

“Be silent, girl!” Eleanor broke into a sob, unable to keep her composure.

“I told you,” said the young Amazon, “My name is Dawn.” She struck Eleanor across the face.

The older woman looked at her, stunned. It was not a hard blow, but she was not accustomed to being treated thus. Then, Dawn did something that was even more astonishing to her. She leaned forward and kissed Eleanor on the lips. For a moment, the older woman closed her eyes and let Dawn kiss her, before drawing back against her chair suddenly.

“Stop it...stop it,” she said, tears welling in her eyes once again.

“Do you really want me to?” Dawn asked her. Again, the young girl kissed Eleanor. The former Queen found she was, in fact, attracted to this strange young girl, but was not inclined to admit it.

“No, please...” she begged quietly.

Dawn withdrew her lips and stood up.

“You've been bad, Gwen,” she said. “It was wrong to send Penelope away. You've hurt people. You need to be punished. I'm going to unchain you now, and you're going to stand up straight.”

Eleanor looked at her defiantly. “Or else you'll hurt me again?”

“Because I said so.”

Dawn proceeded to unlock Eleanor's manacles. The woman stood up, wary of what Dawn might do to her, rubbing her aching wrists. Eleanor was a formidable woman, in her way, but she was not a fighter.

“Take off your gown,” Dawn ordered.

Eleanor glared at her, but Dawn looked like she absolutely expected to be obeyed, and that she was not afraid to inflict pain. Out of fear of this savage girl, Eleanor unbuttoned her dress and lowered it to the ground. Her defiant expression did not change.

“Now your corset,” said the young Amazon.

Eleanor unlaced her corset and set it down as well, baring her torso. Her waist was narrow and her hips suggestively wide. Dawn admired her.

“Your top. Now.”

Eleanor looked at Dawn angrily, but the fierce girl continued to look at her with that dangerous expression. Humiliated but unbowed, Eleanor removed her silk brassiere and bared her full, round breasts to her captor. Her perky nipples jutted out from the large aureoles, very much to Dawn's satisfaction.

Dawn examined Eleanor's black stockings, as though she had never seen such a thing before. “Hmm, I like these; leave them,” she ordered. Dawn then fingered Eleanor's silk panty. “Take this thing off.”

Eleanor tried to remain stoic. She unhooked her garter tabs to slide her panty down, refastened them and stepped out of the undergarment. Except for her stockings she was completely nude. Dawn noted that the hair of her sex was neatly trimmed in a small triangle above her pubis; the Amazon found it very appealing.

Dawn took Eleanor's wrists and made her put her hands on the table. Eleanor could not resist, as Dawn was much stronger, despite her age. Stepping behind the older woman, Dawn slapped her bare hand on Eleanor's smooth bottom again and again. Eleanor could not stop the flow of tears of shame. She held her place, not wanting to provoke Dawn any further. To think that a teenage girl could do this to her! She had fallen far, indeed. Her bottom reddened and began to feel hot. Dawn spanked her again and again. Eleanor grimaced and tried not to make a sound. Her bosom heaved in frustration at her helplessness.

Finally Dawn stopped.

“Are you satisfied? You had your fun. Now leave me be,” said the older woman angrily.

Dawn wordlessly went to the wall hooks and picked up a cane.

“Now, you're going to count for me,” she said calmly but firmly.

“This is ridiculous. I did what you wanted. Haven't you humiliated me enough?”

“Put your hands back on the table, now,” Dawn ordered her. “Raise your ass to me. Legs apart. Now count.”

Eleanor couldn't believe she was doing this; the impudent girl was determined to bring her down a notch or two.

Whack! “Oww!...One.” A red stripe formed against the soft, pale skin of Eleanor's ass. Tears of shame ran down her cheeks.

Whack! “Oww!...Two. Why are you doing this?”

“Be quiet.”

Whack! “Ahh!...three. Please, stop th--”

Whack! “Ouch!”

“No talking, just count.”

“Fine. Four,” Eleanor sobbed.

Dawn caned Eleanor's bottom thoroughly, until the helpless captive was sobbing from pain as well as shame. Red welts criss-crossed the would-be queen's exposed ass. Bereft of any pride, Eleanor tearfully begged her young tormentor to stop, only to be told again to keep silent, except for her counting. Finally, Dawn finished and put the cane aside and stood next to Eleanor, and put her hand on the woman's exposed sex.

“I was right. You liked it,” said the young Amazon, noting the between Eleanor's legs.

“You little--” Eleanor turned on Dawn furiously, but the Amazon held her arms and did not let go; Eleanor was not strong enough to free herself from the girl's iron grip. Dawn moved her head up to Eleanor's and kissed her passionately, devouring her heart shaped, ruby red lips. She put her arms around Eleanor's waist and felt her firm bottom suggestively. Eleanor was overcome by a fierce passion; perhaps it was fear, or desire pent up from her captivity, but she did not resist Dawn's advance, knowing it was probably useless anyway. Dawn backed Eleanor onto the table and the woman laid on it, her back arched and clutching her breasts as Dawn put her head to the woman's wet pussy. She tongued the lips of Eleanor's sex gently at first, feeling them swell with moisture, and then plunged her tongue deep inside. She rubbed her finger overs Eleanor's clit, causing the woman to moan passionately.

“Yes...please...” Eleanor moaned, unable to resist the passion Dawn had brought out in her. It was so powerful a feeling it almost frightened her. Younger girls had always been a weakness of hers, and somehow the pain and humiliation Dawn put her through had heightened her sexual response. Eleanor, of course, had always been a dominant person; she could not have imagined submitting to anyone as she did now. She heaved and moaned loudly, coming to the brink of a powerful orgasm as Dawn joined her on the table, her legs straddled over her. Eleanor allowed Dawn to lock her lips in another passionate kiss, and could not resist bringing her hand to Dawn's own crotch. Dawn rose and straddled her legs over Eleanor's head. She slid her thong to the side and her sex filled Eleanor's view, and the woman was overcome with a passionate hunger.

“Lick my pussy now,” Dawn ordered, and Eleanor complied with only a token protest. Dawn thought her attentions were wonderful, and sighed with a kind of girlish glee as the experienced Eleanor brought her to orgasm with her vigorous tongue. Dawn panted heavily, moaning in pleasure as the climax overcame her.

“Good girl,” said Dawn. Eleanor was shamed by the simple comment but said nothing. Dawn moved her hand down to Eleanor's pussy, rubbing and exciting her to ecstasy. Before Eleanor could experience the sweet release of her orgasm, however, Dawn stopped and forcefully rolled her onto her stomach. Eleanor felt each of her wrists cuffed to the elbow of the opposite arm behind her; she wriggled and squirmed, but Dawn was too strong.

“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“That's enough for now,” said Dawn. “I'll be back in the morning. I may let you come then, if you beg me nicely.”

Dawn led Eleanor bag to her cell. The woman squirmed but it was useless.

“You wench!” the woman cried.

Dawn shot Eleanor a deadly look, and Eleanor fell silent again. Dawn put her back into the cell and smiled sweetly.

“Behave, now,” she said. “Tomorrow you'll have a nice orgasm, if you're good. Sleep well.”

Eleanor cried in shame and frustration, in heat and unable to relieve herself. She looked at Dawn pleadingly as the young Amazon left.

* * * *

Gwendolyn, the would-be Queen, squirmed in the grip of a large, well dressed court official. She stood in the palace square, naked for all to see, her pubis shaved to expose the cleft of her sex. She tried to hold back tears, but thought she might break into a sob at any time now. A collar was fixed around her neck and sealed, and her wrists and ankles were cuffed. The teenage girl kept her eyes to the ground as she was lifted onto a wooden platform. All around her, wealthy nobles and Amazons stood around, admiring her youthful beauty, chattering among themselves. The merchant clapped her on the shoulder.

“Well, it's better than the executioner's block anyway, isn't it?” he said with a jovial laugh. He didn't care how nervous the poor princess seemed; he had other slaves to sell today. It was true Gwendolyn would not be executed for treason; Penelope had graciously forgiven her rebellion, but this was no small ordeal for someone like her to endure. She had forfeited her freedom, and she would have to serve the highest bidder here. She could never hold any semblance of authority after this.

The auctioneer cuffed Gwen's wrists to her collar, behind her neck. Her kicked her feet apart, and forced her to arch her back, sticking her chest out prominently.

“Behold, the beautiful princess,” the auctioneer called. “Young but spirited, with great potential. Suitable for domestic service, and would make a lovely pleasure slave. What am I bid?”

Tears welled in Gwen's eyes as the people shouted bids. Although she had not been broken in as a slave and hardly seemed resigned to her fate, there was much interest in the beautiful Queen's sister. Gwen had Penelope's radiant gold hair, porcelain skin and classically beautiful face, although her forehead and cheeks were a little broader, giving her a more youthful appearance. She was a very slender girl, but her hips and breasts were already nicely developed. And surely it would be prestigious to own a former Queen!

Gwendolyn squirmed a bit more, but the crowd only laughed and grew more excited. When she realized it was useless, she stopped, not wanting to put on any more of a show than she had to.

Finally, Gwen was sold to the Amazon Matriarch, Sheila, who commanded a great deal of wealth, and paid a hefty sum for Gwendolyn. The young princess—or former princess—was led down from the block and handed over to Sheila, who clipped a metal leash to Gwen's collar. Gwen's hands remained clasped behind her neck. Sheila led her away, commanding her to keep her head up and posture straight, emphasizing her commands with a swat on the bottom.

The auction continued, and the Amazons were eager to profit from the prisoners they had captured. The enslaved women waited nervously behind the block; stripped, shaved below the waist and collared, each wondering which man or woman would be their lot.

Sheila was staying in a sumptuously furnished room on the palace grounds. This guest room had a large, four post bed and a vanity drawer with a large mirror, not unlike Sheila's own room at Timberwood. The Matron led Gwen into her room and removed her leash, then had the young princess kneel on the edge of the bed, legs apart, to better examine her. Gwen trembled at her touch. The Matron was fiercely beautiful and radiated strength and authority. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, framing her Mediterranean features and light bronze tan. Her eyes seemed to pierce through Gwen entirely. She was dressed in her customary leather jerkin, skirt and high boots.

Sheila brushed Gwen's hair back and fondled her breasts gently, sliding her hands over the princess's silken skin, and then felt her sex, eliciting a gasp from her new slave girl.

“You have great potential,” said the Matron. “You're going to be a stunning beauty some day soon.” Her voice was calm and certain. It had a soothing quality to it. Gwen couldn't suppress a shiver as Sheila touched her sex, and the Matron smiled at her. It was a sort of condescending look.

“Well, what do you want with me?” Gwen asked her defiantly.

“Interesting question,” said the Matron thoughtfully. “What does a young woman like you have to offer, h'm? What makes you think you're worthy to live under my roof and eat my food?” Her voice remained calm, and her expression was one of bemusement.

Gwen shrugged. “You can fuck me, if you want. I don't mind that you're a woman. I've done things like that before. You don't scare me.”

Sheila raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to be smart with me?”

“I'm just saying, I was a slut,” said Gwendolyn. “I had many men, and women, when I was Queen. You're the next in line, I guess.”

Sheila laughed musically. “I'm sure you broke many hearts. Perhaps you should be punished.”

Gwen looked Sheila in the eye. “I'm not some little girl,” she said.

“Oh, but I think you are,” said the Matron. “You're my little girl, now. And little girls who sleep around get punished.”

Abruptly, Sheila took Gwen over her knee. Gwen squirmed. But could not do much with her hands still cuffed behind her neck. Sheila gave her a series of hard, almost vicious spanks on each cheek, reddening her creamy bottom and causing Gwen to cry out in pain. Gwen began to sob and pleaded for Sheila to stop.

“Hush, dear, or your punishment will be worse,” said Sheila, never raising her voice. She spanked Gwen until her ass was not only red but somewhat purple, as well, and tears were streaming down the princess's face. When she was satisfied that Gwen had learned a little humility, she set back on the bed, lifting her easily with her arms, back in her previous position.

“You should thank you Mistress for the punishment you receive from her,” said Sheila calmly.

Gwen looked at her angrily, her face red from sobbing. “Fine. Thank you, Mistress,” she finally said.

“That wasn't so hard now, was it?” said Sheila with a little laugh. “Really, you are making this much more difficult than it has to be. Are you going to be a good girl from now on?”

Chastised, Gwen nodded and said “Yes, Mistress.”

“Then it's time for a lesson,” said Sheila. She uncuffed Gwen's hands from her collar and bade her to stand in the center of the room. She taught Gwen all of the basic slave positions first, until Gwen could assume them on command, without hesitation. Sheila made her practice them over and over again, never seeming to grow bored.

“Can't we do something else?” asked Gwen impatiently.

“You must learn the basics, first,” said Sheila. “And one of the basics is that good little slave girls must speak to their Mistresses with respect.”

“But this is so boring,” complained Gwen.

“You complain too much for my liking,” said Sheila. “Remember, speaking is a privilege that I can take away when I please.” She took out a ball shaped gag with a pair of leather straps on either side from a chest by the bed. She held Gwen firmly and forced the ball into her mouth. Gwen noticed something unusual about it; it was a white, concave leather plate that covered her mouth and had ring on the front. The ball attached to the other side, that went into her mouth. It looked exactly like a large version of a child's pacifier, except for the straps that went around her cheeks and buckled behind her neck.

“Mmm...mmmm...” Gwen complained again, but Sheila silenced her with a smack on her sore bottom.

“That's better,” said the Matron. She led Gwen to her large, four-poster bed, and forcefully took the girl's wrists, tying her cuffs with a velvet rope to the posts as she lay down on her back. She did the same to Gwen's ankles, and soon the gagged young princess was splayed out helplessly for the Matriarch to admire. Sheila played with Gwen's perky breasts for a while, pinching her nipples hard enough to make her squeal. Satisfied that Gwen understood who was in command, she went back to her chest and took out something else—a riding crop, and a phallus. She sat down next to Gwen and flexed the riding crop over her captive, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

She snapped the crop on Gwen's sensitive bosom, holding the handle with one hand and pulling the end back with the other. Gwen gave out a series of sharp, high pitched squeals as the leather stung her sensitive skin. Sheila slapped the crop across her breasts again, hitting each one in turn and watching the flesh jiggle for her amusement. She hit Gwen between her legs, on the lips of her pussy, and the young princess moaned and winced. It hurt especially when Sheila tapped the crop on the inside of Gwen's thighs. The fair haired slave seemed to plead with her eyes fro Sheila to stop, but Sheila maintained her calm, bemused expression as she watched Gwen's reactions.

“I think you're becoming a bit excited, aren't you dear?” she taunted. It was true; Gwen had never been one for modesty or chastity, and Sheila's attentions had aroused her, the pain notwithstanding. Sheila felt the wetness between the new slave girl's legs and smiled. She then took the phallus and moistened it with her tongue, and plunged it into Gwen's sex. The gag stifled Gwen's moans as the hard phallus was pushed back and forth into her with one hand; in her other hand Sheila still held the crop and continued to torment Gwen with it, slapping her breasts and torso again. Gwen cried out from the back of her throat, half from pain and half from pleasure. She tossed her head side to side, her blonde hair waving against the bedsheets. She pulled against the ropes that looped through her wrist cuffs to no avail as Sheila fucked her and beat her simultaneously.

After a few minutes of this unusual agony, Gwen's chest heaved and she wailed through her gag, her eyes shut tight as her intense orgasm reached its peak. The pain had made her senses sharper, and her climax was unusually intense. As her breathing subsided Sheila put the phallus and crop aside, and unfastened the ropes that bound the princess. She always found slaves to be more pliable after their first orgasm. She took the quivering Gwen by the arm and led her to the center of the room.

“You're going to have to learn some obedience,” she said, “So we're going to play a little game. If you please me, I may allow you climax again. Understand?”

Gwen, less defiant now, nodded. Once again, Sheila went to her chest. Gwen was beginning to seriously dislike that chest by now. Sheila ordered Gwen into a standing position with her hands behind her neck and her feet about a shoulder's width apart. From her chest Sheila produced a pair of small metal clamps attached to small chains.

“Nnhhh...nnnnnhhh...” Gwen moaned when the clamps were placed on her nipples. There were heavy lead weights on the ends of the chain, and they stretched her tender parts painfully. Sheila put a finger on Gwen's gag.

“Hush, dear,” she said. “I'm going to count to six, and you will hold your position until I say you can relax. Remain still as I count, and I may be pleased.”

Gwen winced and held her eyes shut tightly as Sheila calmly counted. Her nipples, pinched and stretched, screamed in pain to her. When Sheila finished counting, she took the weights in her hands and held them there, relieving the pressure from her poor slave girl. She looked Gwen squarely in the eye, as though daring her to rebel. Gwen looked down; she knew Sheila was much stronger than she was, and that there was no place she could run to even if she wanted to. There was nothing to do but wait out this torment.

“Again,” Sheila commanded, and she let the weights drop and counted again. Gwen squealed, and a tear ran down her cheek, but she held her position, her hands remaining clasped behind her neck.

Sheila seemed to be the slowest counter in the world, she thought. The princess heaved a sigh of relief as Sheila took the weights into her hands again.

“One more time,” said the Matron. Gwen let out a high pitched, pleading kind of wail but Sheila ignored her, and let the weights down. It took all Gwen's effort not to move her hands. She sobbed a little and her thighs quivered, until at last the clamps were entirely removed. Even then, there was another sharp pain as the blood suddenly rushed back into the pinched nipples. Gwen held her breasts and rubbed them as Sheila put the clamps away.

“Not bad for your first time,” she said. “You're better than I thought. I'll give you a reward.”

Gwen meekly allowed Sheila to take her to the far wall, where a lady's lacing bar hung from the ceiling. Sometimes Gwen had held onto one of these, arms over her head, while a servant laced her corset behind her. Now she felt particularly helpless as Sheila fixed her wrist cuffs to the ends of the bar above her. Then she took out yet another implement from her chest—a metal hook, about the size of her hand, hanging from a thick rope. The end of the hook was rounded and not very sharp, but it looked menacing as Sheila let it dangle from the rope and lubricated it with an oil. Gwen gulped at the sight of it.

“Do you know what this is for?” asked the Matron with a sly smile. Gwen shook her head. Sheila tossed the rope over the lacing bar so that the hook dangled behind the bound princess. Sheila spread Gwen's legs apart and put the end of the hook into Gwen's ass, eliciting a brief, sharp cry as the cold metal end poked into her. Sheila pulled the rope over the bar until the hook tightened and pulled Gwen's hips just a little bit upward. Gwen didn't know how to react to the metal intruder pulling inside her anus; as Sheila tightened the rope the hook went even further in. Sheila tied the rope to the ring on Gwen's collar, securing the hook in place inside her. Then, the Matriarch produced the phallus she had used before.

“Ready, dear?” she asked. Gwen nodded slightly, without a sound this time; moving her head meant pulling the hook further into her ass. She closed her eyes tight as Sheila worked the phallus into her sex again; this time it slid in easily. Each time Gwen moved her head the metal hook thrust a little into her anus; the sensation was odd but rather pleasurable, she thought. She now felt exciting sensations from two areas of her body. Sheila knelt and put her head between Gwen's legs, rubbing her slave's clit with the tip of her tongue. Gwen moaned as an intense feeling of pleasure was concentrated on such a small area. When she climaxed, she thought it might have been the most intense orgasm she had ever had.

Sheila removed the hook and released Gwen, ordering her to kneel on the floor. After Sheila had put away her implements of torment and pleasure, she stood over the young princess with her hands on her hips.

“Are you going to behave yourself from now on?” she asked.

Gwen nodded humbly.

“If I remove your gag, are you going to complain again?” Gwen shook her head. Sheila reached around Gwen's neck and unbuckled the pacifier/gag.

“Thank you, Mistress,” said Gwen.

“Show me your gratitude,” said Sheila imperiously. Knowing what she was meant to do, Gwen lowered her head with some embarrassment and kissed the tips of Sheila's boots as the Matron stood looking down at her. Gwen wasn't so sure she wanted to rebel anymore. Raised in soft luxury as she had been, she had never felt anything as intense as what Sheila had just put her through. She wanted to feel more. And there was something about Sheila's demeanor—something about her confidence and the way she commanded so easily—that made Gwen instinctively want to obey her. She found herself wanting to please this woman, who stood over her like a black haired goddess, looking at her intently. The Matron's gaze frightened Gwen but it also excited her.

“Your attitude seems to have improved,” said Sheila with satisfaction. “Now, let's get you something appropriate to wear.” Gwen wondered what kind of clothing she would be allowed by Sheila; although the slave girls here in Avalonia covered their sex, they did not cover much else. Sheila laid out some sheer, silk garments on the bed and told Gwen to put them on. There was a frilly white panty with lace ruffles that looked overly feminine; it was brief and Gwen had to tie strings on either side to wear it around her waist. There were white stockings and a garter belt that she also put on, and a lace chemise that was entirely transparent. The latter was short and left Gwen's navel bare, and there was frilly lace trim around the hem and sleeves. Gwen blushed when she saw herself in this girlish, revealing outfit.

“Don't you look sweet,” said Sheila.

“Do I have to wear this? I look like a little girl,” said Gwen with a blush.

“You are my little girl,” said Sheila. “Now I'll do your hair.” Gwen had to sit patiently on Sheila's lap in front of the mirror, while the Matron arranged her flowing blonde hair into a pair of braided pigtails. Sheila fixed ribbons around the ends of them. Gwen saw that she looked absolutely nothing like a queen now; she looked like an exaggeratedly feminine young woman with an overly stern mother. Her age was undisguised, but with her smallish stature the effect was striking. She turned to Sheila.

“Why?” she asked.

“Oh, I've always wanted a girl of my own,” said the Matron. “We Amazons don't raise our daughters in such a frivolous fashion, and I want to see what it's like. And you, young lady, have forfeited your rights as an adult. You'll obey me from now on, like a good girl, with no more rebellious nonsense.”

“Fine—I mean, yes Mistress,” said Gwen, still blushing. People would see her like this, she thought suddenly; it was terribly humiliating. Gwen then turned and put her arm around Sheila, and realized she felt a certain affection for her, especially after of the intense pleasure she had experienced.

“Mistress, may I...” she looked up at Sheila shyly.

“Yes, dear?” Sheila asked, playing with Gwen's braids.

“May I lick your pussy?” she asked. She wanted Sheila to take pleasure from her; to gain her affections.

“Now, what makes you think you're worthy to lick my pussy, h'm?” asked Sheila with amusement. She put a finger under Gwen's chin and lifted her head to meet her gaze. Gwen had trouble looking Sheila right in the eye; she was a formidable woman. “Maybe later, if you're good. For now, you're going to spend time with your new playmates.”

Sheila rose from the chair and went to the door, leaving the room for a moment. Gwen relaxed but was a little sad to see her go. When she returned, two tall young women entered with her. They were twins, Gwen saw, and slaves like she was now, collared and cuffed. They wore only leather g-strings around their waists. They seemed happy and eager to be here.

“This is Amanda,” said Sheila, gesturing to one of the women, “And this is Jessica.” She nodded to the other. “They've earned some amusement today, and you will entertain them. Enjoy yourselves, girls.”

“We will,” said one of the twins—Gwen couldn't remember which was which.

“Oh, she's adorable,” said the other when she saw Gwendolyn, who blushed even redder than before. Sheila left the room and shut the door.

One twin took Gwen from behind and reached under her shirt to feel her breasts. The other ran her hands between Gwen's legs.

“Be careful with her clothes,” the woman behind her said.

“She's just like a doll, isn't she?” the girl with one hand between Gwen's legs pinched her cheek lightly. They took her to the bed and demanded that she pleasure them both, and Gwen had little choice but to oblige. They tickled her endlessly as she put her tongue into each girl's pussy, and Gwen giggled uncontrollably. They spent much of the evening relaxing together and playing frivolous, sexually-charged games, and the twins couldn't seem to stop patting Gwen's head and cuddling her the whole time. Even as she was brought to orgasm again and again, Gwen felt more innocent than she ever had before. This wasn't so bad, she thought, as she rested between the two twins who held her their arms, and her lace panty was soon soaked with her own juices.

* * * *

The next morning, Eleanor awoke as her cell door opened with a creak. Once again, she saw Dawn enter.

“Good morning, beauty,” said the teenage Amazon with a cheerful smile.

Eleanor looked at her warily. “You've come to torment me again?”

Dawn looked hurt. “I thought you enjoyed our time together the other night. I certainly did.”

“You took advantage of me,” said Eleanor.

“Well, you belong to me now,” said Dawn with a shrug.

“And if I resist, you'll have me killed,” said Eleanor.

“But you don't want to resist, do you?” asked Dawn, who sat next to Eleanor on her cot and put an arm around her. She kissed the older woman on the lips again. Eleanor seemed to want to return it, but she pulled her head away.

“Stop it...please,” said the queen mother. “Go away.”

“You're not in a position to tell me what to do,” chided Dawn. “Besides, you really do seem to want it.” She kissed Eleanor affectionately on the cheek.

“I will admit nothing to you,” the woman said.

Dawn kissed Eleanor again, longer and more passionately. Eleanor did not resist this time. Dawn ran a finger seductively down the woman's chest, between her bare breasts. “We can enjoy each other's company every night from now on, if you're good,” she said.

Dawn put her hand on Eleanor's sex, massaging the clit and opening her labia gently. She put a finger inside and felt Eleanor's moisture gather. She suckled Eleanor's ample breasts, taking the nipple between her lips. Eleanor, her wrists still bound to her elbows behind her, was helpless to resist, and felt the desire of the previous night quickly well inside her again.

“Beg me,” said Dawn with a smile that to Eleanor seemed very cruel. “Beg me to make you come.”

“Please, don't stop again,” pleaded Eleanor.

“Beg me for it, and I'll consider,” teased Dawn.

“Please let me come, girl. Don't torment me so!”

“You have to use my name.”

“Dawn, lovely Dawn, please let me come,” said Eleanor sincerely. “I'll make it worth your while, just please...oh...ooohhh...ooooohh...” Eleanor tossed her head back and closed hr eyes in a sweet reverie. It was possibly the most intense climax she had ever enjoyed, heightened by the humiliation and frustration Dawn had put her through.

“Thank you, dear...you're a sweet girl...” Eleanor moaned softly.

“Would you like to climax again?” dawn asked her. “If you want another, I will give it.”

“Perhaps...” Eleanor eyed her warily. “What must I do for you this time?”

“You must first bend over my knee.”

“I am a grown woman, I--” Eleanor protested.

“Do it,” said Dawn forcefully. “Do you want me to leave you alone again?”

Tearfully, Eleanor shook her head. “Must you humiliate me like this?”

“I will if I want, whenever I want to,” said Dawn casually.

Indignantly, Eleanor bent herself over the teenagers lap. She tried to hide her shame as Dawn ran her hand over her firm bottom and pinched the fading welts of the previous evening.

“Now count out for me, like before,” Dawn ordered her.

“Is this truly necess—OW!” Dawn's hand slapped Eleanor's ass with a powerful blow.

“Count.”

“One,” Eleanor sobbed.

“Oww! three...Ouch! four...Aahh! five—please st—OWW!...six,” Eleanor's sobs became harder to control. Dawn continued to spank her, repeating a blow if Eleanor failed to count for her.

“You're not being very enthusiastic,” Dawn chided her.

“I am not your slave,” said Eleanor indignantly. “I don't have to submit to this!”

“Why don't you get up?”

“You will hurt me.”

“I promise I won't,” said Dawn. “If you hate this so much, you can get up. But you won't get another climax today.”

Eleanor looked up at her miserably. “As you wish, then.”

Dawn continued to ten, repeating a blow if Eleanor failed to count for her.

“Are you happy now, you wicked little girl?” asked Eleanor when it was finished.

“Oh, be honest,” said Dawn. “You liked that.” She teased Eleanor's sex with the hand that had spanked her, and fondled the woman's breast with her other hand. Once again, Eleanor's sex was wet.

“I...I don't know,” Eleanor sobbed.

“I think you do.”

“Believe whatever you want,” said Eleanor, standing up. Despite her nudity, her bound arms, and her sexual desperation, she maintained a remarkable dignity. “You gave your word, and I have submitted to your humiliations. You will not torment me, or make me plead again this time.”

“Of course,” said Dawn with a smile. “And after you climax, you will give me your oath.”

Eleanor looked at Dawn curiously now, examining the teenage girl's toned figure and pretty face. “You're a stubborn one, aren't you. I admit you're a lovely young woman, Dawn, and your offer is not without it's...shall I say, temptations. I just...don't know if I can accept.”

Dawn paused in thought, and an idea came to her.

“Come here, Elly,” she said, and she took Eleanor by the arm and led her to a wall of the dungeon, where two wooden beams were laid in the shape of an X. There were cuffs at each of the four ends. Dawn unbound Eleanor's wrists and raised the woman's arms over her head, to the manacles on the x beam. Eleanor struggled, but Dawn was much stronger, and soon Eleanor's wrists and ankles were spread apart, bound to the beam. She strained frightfully against her bonds, but it was useless.

“Please!” she cried. “You promised...”

“That I would pleasure you,” said Dawn. “I know.” She chose a flogger from among the instruments of punishment hanging from the near wall. “And I will.”

She snapped the flogger against Eleanor's torso, across her breasts, and under her legs. She did not hit her particularly hard, but Eleanor seemed very frightened.

“Please, stop!” she begged.

“I'm hardly hurting you,” said Dawn.

“I can't bear this.” Eleanor closed her tearful eyes and tried to bury her face against her raised arm. She began to breathe harder. Her bosom heaved as Dawn continued to flog her.

“Because you enjoy it?” asked Dawn.

Eleanor paused a long time before answering. Dawn flogged each of her breasts in succession. “Yes,” Eleanor finally moaned.

“You like it when I do this?” Dawn snapped the flogger between Eleanor's legs repeatedly.

A deep feeling of shame, but also desire, welled up from deep inside Eleanor.

“Yes,” she said.

“Then relax, and let me pleasure you,” said Dawn.

Eleanor burst into tears. “Please Dawn, this is so...” In spite of herself, Eleanor felt the pleasure mount as Dawn struck her pussy with the flogger again and again. Her breathing became more and more ragged, until at last she tossed her head back and let out a fierce, primal wail as a powerful orgasm shuddered through her. It was violent in its intensity, and Eleanor had never felt anything like it before. She closed her eyes as her breathing subsided. Dawn walked up to her and caressed her cheek lovingly.

“Swear to obey me, and you can have more,” said Dawn. “Otherwise, my knife meets your throat. That's what I have to do.”

“You leave me little choice,” said Eleanor through her dying sobs.

“You don't need choices; that's what got you in this mess. I'll make your decisions for you.”

“You could do whatever you wanted to me if I submitted to you,” said Eleanor warily.

“I can and I will,” said Dawn, “But you're also under my protection. I'll swear so right now if it will make you feel safer. So what will it be?”

Dawn put her hand on the handle of her knife.

Eleanor looked at her nervously, and said, “Very well. I promise to obey you, Dawn. You have my word.”

Dawn smiled widely and kissed each of Eleanor's breasts. “Good choice.”

Eleanor looked dejected. “Are you finished with me now?”

“Oh, we've just started, beauty,” said Dawn sweetly. “Now, as I promised...”

Dawn unbound Eleanor and led her out of the dungeon. She led the older woman to the apartments Penelope had furnished her with. Eleanor kept her eyes down and her expression neutral, seemingly unconcerned for whoever might see her walking around in nothing but her garters and stockings. She made nor resistance as Dawn led her to her bed, pulled her in close and embraced her passionately. Eleanor returned Dawn's embrace, and they made love languidly for some time. Eleanor tried to think of nothing except the pleasure Dawn made her feel.

* * * *

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 18: The Amazon Queen

In the Queen's chamber of Emerald Keep, Penelope sat in front of her large mirror, making certain every hair and article of clothing was in its proper place. Talia dutifully attended her, brushing her hair and applying her makeup. From the opposite corner of the Queen's lavish room ran two rows of gold colored bars at right angles, forming a gilded cage for her personal slave to rest and relax in. There was even a suspended bar Talia could use as a swing, like a pet bird. Talia counted herself extremely fortunate to have the most beautiful, powerful and attentive Mistress any slave could ever want. She exercised in her cage whenever she got the chance; as she was no longer an Amazon, she needed to keep her muscles from slackening and her breasts from sagging. Penelope had grown more confident as a Mistress and trained Talia harder now, tolerating fewer imperfections in her than before, and Talia loved her for it. Penelope could whip her slave with her belt until Talia achieved orgasm, such was her level of response.

As the Queen's personal, chosen slave Talia had to be exemplary; luckily her Amazon training had gifted her with much discipline and endurance, and she did Penelope credit. While they were dignified and reserved together in public, they had only grown more passionate and intense in their private time together. Talia might not be the most beautiful slave girl around, she thought to herself (although Penelope would say she was very pretty indeed), but she was determined to be the best.

When the Queen was satisfied with her own appearance, she rose and took her slave girl to the wall, where she raised Talia's wrists over her head, and Talia held them there. She produced a present for her faithful slave, something she had been saving for a special occasion. It was a polished ivory phallus, shorter than most, with two pairs of thin gold chains attached to the base. Talia spread her legs wide to receive the gift, and the phallus fit all the way inside her, the base just barely visible below the lips of her sex. Penelope took each pair of golden chains and fastened them around Talia's thighs for support. She then slipped Talia's thong on, covering her sex entirely. No one would see that the Amazon slave was filled, but Talia would be reminded whenever she moved. Talia was disappointed her Mistress wasn't going to use her then and there, but there was no time now. Penelope could have strapped Talia between the legs with her belt and the slave girl probably would have achieved an orgasm, so responsive had she become.

“I'll be roused all day by this, my Queen,” said Talia, blushing.

“I know, dear,” said Penelope. “I want everyone to see a glow on your face when you're with me.” She pinched Talia's soft cheek playfully.

She took some clear paste and spread it on Talia's breasts, and placed a series of flower petals decoratively around each of her nipples, and a chain to connect each nipple ring. She placed a few flowers in Talia's hair braids and stepped back to look her over, satisfied with her decorations. She let Talia lower her wrists from above her and clipped a golden leash to her collar, and Talia followed her Mistress dutifully outside to the throne room. The phallus strapped into Talia's sex rubbed her pleasurably, and she wore a bashful smile the whole time, struggling with all her might to refrain from climaxing without permission.

Penelope sat on her rich, velvet throne, raised on a platform in the high ceilinged room. Talia got on her hands and knees in front of her, and Penelope rested her feet on the slave girl's back. Her loyal retainers and soldiers, resplendent in their rich dress, stood up in her presence and sat down again when she did. All her friends—Amazon, noble, and commoner alike, had gathered in the throne room this afternoon. It was to be a fairly short and simple ceremony, but Penelope wanted to make sure its importance was felt by all.

She had set down some new laws for the treatment of slaves in Avalonia, to discourage abuse, and had appointed impartial officials in each town to inspect each slave on a weekly basis. She had also ordered the streets of the kingdom to be swept clean of harlots and beggars, and had set them to work at whatever they were best suited for. Her kingdom would be clean and orderly now, and she would not lose it again.

“I am glad to see you have learned from our ways,” Sheila had told her. The Amazon Matriarch had been of great help to Penelope as she organized her kingdom anew. In point of fact, Sheila was the new Queen Mother; quite arguably the most powerful woman in the kingdom. This was what she had planned all along.

Penelope smiled, amused at the sight of her sister, who was sitting on Sheila's lap and wearing some kind of baby doll negligee and stockings up to her thighs. Her hair was braided into pigtails and she was gagged with what looked like a child's pacifier. Her arm was around Sheila and she rested her head against her Mistress's bosom, comforted by her commanding presence. There was no way anyone would would take Gwen seriously as a claimant to the throne now.

One by one, slave girls were collared for their Mistresses—and a few for their Masters—in front of Penelope and swore their obedience. Their owners, in turn, swore to provide for them and to observe the limits of punishment. Penelope hoped this ceremony made the intended impression on her subjects.

Claire, who had signed all her property over to Lady Anne, was the first collared; the beautiful redhead looked thrilled as she kissed the lovely Anne's feet. Anne's daughter, Amber, who had the same golden hair and beautiful face as her mother, had taken on two new slaves, Belle and Lydia, who similarly pledged themselves to their Mistress. Belle crawled on all fours, led by her her leash, to the foot of Penelope's throne. She still was shy in front of strangers, but she did her best to swear herself to Amber in her weak voice. Belle eagerly kissed Amber's feet and licked her shoes; she was a lovely young woman with fair hair and a childlike eagerness to please. Lydia was more graceful and reserved. Both Lydia and Claire smiled radiantly now that they were with the women they loved.

Keira, Penelope's adoptive Amazon sister had acquired two new slaves of her own: noblewomen whose family had supported the coup against Penelope. The Queen now made examples out of them, and most of the women who had rebelled against her were stripped of their rank and property—not to mention their clothing. Isabelle, the woman noted for her beauty and her strawberry blonde hair, and her teenage daughter Helen, who looked very much like her, meekly swore themselves to Keira, who stood over them with a whip. She had broken them in nicely, and they were proving to be reliable, obedient slave girls.

Gwen's gag was removed when her turn came, and it was quite humiliating for her, as everyone saw her kneeling in her frilly clothing. She made her oath quietly and the Amazon Matriarch, Sheila, tossed the teenage princess over her shoulder and spanked her bottom as she went back to her seat.

Finally Eleanor, the architect of the rebellion, was collared and enslaved by the Matron's teenage daughter. Eleanor knew how a slave was supposed to act and carefully suppressed her pride, knowing she had only escaped execution because of Penelope's generosity. Her expression was neutral and composed; one would not have guessed at the conflicting emotions battling inside her. Her dark hair went just a little past her shoulders unbound, which was a decidedly more feminine look than the tight bun she had normally worn it in. Penelope saw what an attractive woman her stepmother was, now that her thin waist, wide hips and ample bosom were on display for everyone to see. She wore a leather g-string that just barely covered her sex; one could see the cleft of her nether lips sticking out of the fabric. Talia was jealous of her. Dawn was affectionate towards her and clearly loved her new slave; Penelope wondered how a teenage girl had managed to tame the willful former Queen. Eleanor calmly accepted Dawn as her Mistress, giving her oath in a voice that was neither hesitant nor overly eager, and obediently brushed her hair back so that Dawn could place her collar around Eleanor's neck.

There were a good number of others, as well. The ceremony proceeded until finally, one of the young noblewomen who had rebelled against her now knelt before her throne, collared and nude but for the flimsiest piece of cloth around her waist. Penelope had decided to reward her to an especially loyal and brave soldier who had served her well. The young woman was very attractive, and there was a certain fire behind her eyes, as though she had not quite been tamed. The soldier found her resistance amusing. He was a massive man, powerfully built, and this former noblewoman was in awe of him. He thanked Penelope graciously for his new prize, and clipped a leash to the girl's collar, forcing her to march ahead of him to his bed chamber. He encouraged her to walk faster with a series of spanks to her bottom. Penelope smiled. The girl might still harbor thoughts of rebelling against her fate, but it would do her no good. That was the last of the seditious nobles; the rest had been dealt with, and were either gone or serving new Masters and Mistresses.

When it was finished and the crowd mingled together, Penelope saw a tear running down Talia's sweet face.

“Something wrong, dear?” she asked her slave.

“Collaring ceremonies always make me emotional,” said Talia with a smile.

Penelope had some business to finish with before she herself turned in. Redistributing funds to the overtaxed populace would take time. And she had to make sure everyone in Avalonia was cared for.

Many common born girls who had no homes were taken off the streets and put to work as spinsters and maids, or if they were pretty enough they might auctioned off as pleasure slaves to those who afford to care for them. When asked if these measures were perhaps a bit harsh, Penelope simply replied “Yes, they are.” In her mind, everyone in Avalonia now had a proper place, and everyone was protected by law from injustice and abuse.

Finally, the Queen Penelope turned in after a long day. Talia helped her undress in her chamber.

“I thought the new slave girls were settled in nicely, if I may say so,” said her slave. “But I noticed something strange, Mistress.”

“Oh?” asked Penelope.

“Some of the male slaves were sold for domestic work—to be pleasure slaves,” she said. “I've never seen that before.”

“Well, it's preferable than work in the mills and the mines for many,” said Penelope. “And men are often attracted to a strong Mistress. In fact, some free men will pay good money to be with one.”

“That seems strange to me, but I suppose your kingdom is a little strange to me. Oh...I'm sorry I didn't get to dance for your guests,” she said regretfully.

“Well,” said Penelope, “You can dance for me now, dear.”

“I would like that very much, my Queen.”

“Aren't you overdressed, though?”

Talia smiled and slipped out of her thong, and performed her sensual dance for the private audience of the Queen until Penelope had seen enough, and snapped her fingers for Talia to join her in her bed. They did not fall sleep for some time.

* * * *

That same night Gwendolyn entered Sheila's room with nervous anticipation. The young slave girl wore her transparent silk negligee, panties and stockings, just as Sheila liked. The room was bathed in soft candlelight, and the Matron was seated at her dresser table, combing her hair in front of the mirror.

“Hello; I'm here Mistress,” said Gwen eagerly.

“I can see you. Come here and undress me.”

Without a further word Gwen walked over to Sheila had helped her remove her leather gloves, boots, skirt and jerkin and slipped a satin nightgown over her nude body. Gwen trembled to see the Matron naked.

“You're very beautiful, you know,” said Gwen in awe.

“Hush, child,” said Sheila softly. “I did not say you could speak.” Gwen looked down, abashed.

Sheila brought her new young slave over to the bed and sat down, lifting Gwen easily onto her lap. She put a finger under Gwen's chin and lifted her head to meet her gaze.

“You were a little clumsy today serving me,” Sheila scolded. “You spilled some wine, and you stumbled several times. It was altogether ungainly, especially for a noble born slave.”

Gwen gulped and nodded guiltily. “I'm really sorry,” she said sincerely. “I promise I'll do better.”

“If you are to be my personal slave girl, you must be graceful,” said Sheila. “I am going to discipline you now, so you remember.”

Gwen whimpered audibly as Sheila laid her face down over her lap. The Matron then pulled Gwen's panties down, exposing the poor girl's reddened, bare bottom, and ran the back of her hairbrush over her skin. It felt hard and cold to Gwen, like the Matron's expression when she scolded her.

Gwen felt the brush smack her bottom with enough force to make her cry out, and the brush came down again and again relentlessly, until Gwen began to sob. Her hands had been cuffed together behind her back, so she could not move to cover her poor ass. It was just as well; doing so would probably earn her more strokes. Sheila struck Gwen harshly on each cheek at least half a dozen times until Gwen was good and sobbing. Finally she let the blonde slave girl stand and rub her sore hindquarters, and kiss her feet. Sheila made her kiss the back of the hairbrush as well.

If anything, Sheila's reprove had stung Gwen even more than the hairbrush. Sheila laid back against the soft pillows of the bed, her torso upright. She looked beautiful when she smiled, and her lips were so inviting, Gwen thought.

“Come here, dear,” said Sheila. She didn't seem to be angry, but then, she rarely ever raised her voice for any reason. Gwen crawled onto the bed towards her. When she reached her Mistress, Sheila took Gwen's head in her hands and kissed her on the lips. Gwen felt suddenly better. “Now,” said Sheila, “This is something just between you and me, understand? And if you misbehave, you will go without it.”

Gwen nodded, wondering what it was. Sheila had in fact been drinking an herbal mixture that caused her to produce milk, and she now exposed her bare breast to Gwen and lowered the slave girl's head to her nipple. She cradled Gwen as the young princess suckled her, surprised at the arm dribble of milk she tasted in her mouth.

“It's good for you,” said Sheila, aroused by the sensation of the beautiful young woman suckling at her breast. She held Gwen's head with one arm and rubbed her hand on the crotch of her panty with the other. This was amazingly sensual, she thought. The princess had never felt so intimate with anyone before; she felt just like a little girl again—well, not completely like a little girl, since she was now terribly aroused. Sheila seemed to be doing everything she could to make Gwen feel small and helpless. When Gwen finished sucking the milk from one breast and was turned to the other. She felt totally calm and safe in Sheila's arms now. There was nothing to worry about. When she finished, she sat up and wiped a dribble of milk from her chin.

“Thank you, Mistress,” she said.

“That's a good girl. Now, show me what you can do with that tongue of yours.” Sheila spread her legs and lifted her nightgown and Gwen eagerly put her head between them, toward the triangle of pubic hair below her waist. She lapped at the soft, moist folds of Sheila's pussy, sucking and tonguing her clit. Sheila rubbed her nipples and moaned in satisfaction, closing her eyes as Gwen's clever little tongue sent shivers of pleasure through her. She held Gwen's head tightly against her crotch as she came closer an closer to orgasm. She bucked her hips back and forth and moaned loudly as Gwen brought her to climax at last.

“Well done,” she said. “I think the twins would be jealous of your skill. I'll teach you some new tricks next time.” With that, she alighted from the bed and took Gwen with her. She brought the girl to an open topped cage that was cushioned on the bottom. She helped Gwen out of her clothes, placed her into the cage and locked a chain to her collar. Gwen whimpered when she realized Sheila was not going to let her climax that night. Instead, her hands were cuffed behind her again, and Sheila told her to sleep. Gwen saw the twins enter the room and greet their Mistress, who tethered their leashes to her bedposts. They were allowed to sleep next to her, and Gwen felt very jealous of them.

* * * *

The next day, Penelope conferred with Sheila and her adoptive sisters, Chandra and Keira, in Emerald Keep's throne room.

“Why do you insist on wearing that...costume?” Sheila asked her oldest daughter.

“It's a 'dress,'” said Chandra, looking resplendent in her new gown. “It's the custom here.”

“It looks frivolous,” said Sheila. “The things a woman will do to attract a mate, indeed.” Chandra didn't tell her mother about the even more “frivolous” clothing she was wearing beneath the gown to please her new husband. “In my day, all you had to do to seduce a man was show up.”

“Yes, but romance—I think that's what they call it—can be fun to,” said Chandra. “And I want to fit in here.”

“But how do you intend to start a proper family with only one mate?” Sheila asked her. “It seems like a lack of commitment to me.”

“Oh, mother, I'll manage.”

Thomas, the husband in question, was just out of earshot, speaking with Queen Penelope and Keira.

“I never thanked you properly for your loyalty,” said the Queen. “I want you to take charge of the entire army, and I've offered Chandra a job to train the new slave girls. She's quite talented at it.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” said the Captain. “And Chandra is a remarkable woman, once you get to know her.”

“I want to exact tribute from the neighboring kingdoms,” said Penelope. “Your job will be to get them to submit, one way or another.”

“You think we are that strong?”

“I know we are,” said Penelope. “I would not command this unless we were powerful enough to defeat all our neighbors combined, and with the Amazons, we are.”

“They already fear you,” said Thomas. “They're calling you 'the Amazon Queen.'”

“I like the sound of that,” said Penelope with a proud smile.

* * * *

Gwendolyn seemed to bring out a new, more playful side of Sheila. The Matriarch bounced her slave girl on her knee and pinched Gwen's nipples playfully, tickling her arms and stomach. Gwen giggled and rested her head against Sheila's bosom, kissing her Mistress's ample breasts. Sheila occasionally held out a sweet for Gwen to eat from her hand. Gwendolyn decided she could get used to this. She had no responsibilities or important decisions to make; no one pestering her to get things done or blaming her when things went wrong. She just did what Sheila commanded her and was rewarded—it was simple and kind of fun. She got a spanking sometimes, but that aroused her, too. All in all, she rather liked being Sheila's little girl. She didn't care so much if anyone else saw her like this.

They were seated in a large hall that served as a kind of ballroom. It consisted mostly of a wide open space with a marble floor and several comfortable sofas along the walls. Dawn had brought Eleanor here, along with various instruments of punishment and training. The former Queen needed to learn discipline, and Sheila wanted to see how her youngest daughter was was handling her new acquisition. Many others had gathered to watch as well, including Dawn's friends and sisters. Eleanor, now wearing the teenage Amazon's collar, stood patiently in the middle of the room by her Mistress, wearing only her black leather thong and the dark stockings that Dawn liked.

“Will she be hurt much, Mistress?” whispered Lydia, a dark haired slave, to Amber.

“That depends on her,” replied the blonde haired woman. Amber was discovering a dominant streak she didn't know she had, and was very much enjoying the chance to train Lydia. Serving nobles in a castle was different than serving on the Amazon islands, and she had a fair amount to learn.

Dawn's older sister, Keira, sat next to Amber, with two scantily clad women kneeling before her, leashed to their Mistress. Helen, the younger of these two, shifted nervously. What was going to happen to the former queen, she wondered? She looked at her beautiful mother kneeling next to her, leashed as she was, who only shrugged. They kept silent, knowing Keira would punish them if they spoke out of turn; the Amazon did not tolerate any impertinence from her new slaves.

“Go ahead, Dawn,” said Sheila.

The young Amazon picked up a long, thin lacquered cane.

“We'll start off with six strokes, and you will count each one,” said the teenager to the dark haired beauty who was now under her control. Amber felt a twinge of sympathy for the wicked queen, in spite of what the woman had put her her through. She remembered how she had felt when Keira first trained her.

Obediently, Eleanor bent over, her feet spread apart, and reached down as low as she could; a faint look of anguish crossed her face as she prepared to be disciplined in front of these women. Suddenly a whack echoed throughout the hall as the cane struck her bare skin; the thong Eleanor wore did nothing to hide her pleasantly plump rear end from the cruel implement.

“Oww...one,” she began. Thwack!

“OW!...two.” Thwack!

“Nnnhh...three.” Whack!

“Aaahh...four.” Whap! The other slave girls in attendance flinched at the strokes just a little, knowing how much this could hurt.

“Oowww...five.” Tears dropped to the marble floor, but otherwise Eleanor kept herself remarkably well composed. Thwack! A final red stripe formed across the pale skin of Eleanor's ass.

“AAH!...six.” Eleanor stood up and rubbed her sore rear end, her pride all but stripped away.

“Good girl, Elly,” said Dawn with a pleased smile. Eleanor was not only beautiful, she thought, but she could take a caning well, too. Just like Claire, her old slave.

“Now,” said Dawn as She picked up a black leather phallus, “On your knees.” With a pained look, Eleanor knelt in front of her younger Mistress. She had to suck on the phallus in front of everyone, to better lubricate it. Dawn then ordered her to fuck herself with it. It was almost too much for the wicked queen to bear, but Dawn gave her a fierce, commanding look that belied her years and threatened more serious punishments if she did not quickly obey.

Timidly, Eleanor opened her legs as she knelt on the floor and pushed the phallus into her groin, slowly moving it back and forth. She realized that she was genuinely aroused; her sex was moist and the phallus slid in easily. Could this really be a turn on for her? As she pleasured herself, Dawn picked up the all too familiar flogger, and snapped it across Eleanor's bare breasts. Eleanor cried out, more in surprise than pain. Dawn slapped her breasts again and again and, to Eleanor's surprise and consternation, she was becoming more and more aroused with each stroke of the flogger. She felt the eyes of the guests in attendance more heavily than ever; her former subjects were happily watching her be humiliated by a teenage girl! Even worse, she seemed to be craving it somehow. She closed her eyes and focused only on the confusing sensations of pleasure and pain that wracked her body. Her hips rose and fell against the phallus and her ample breasts swayed as the flogger struck them with a fleshy slap. Her breathing reached a higher pitch and quickened.

“Stop,” said Dawn suddenly. Eleanor looked up at the teenage Amazon suddenly, who was no longer flogging her. “Should a slave come before her Mistress?” asked Dawn. “Tell me.”

“No, Mistress,” said Eleanor quietly.

Dawn clipped a leash to Eleanor's collar. The former queen hated it, but was in no position to complain.

“Pleasure me,” said Dawn. “I want you to show everyone what you've learned so far.” Dawn lifted up her leather skirt and slid aside her thong. She tugged on Eleanor's leash, and the dark haired beauty crawled closer to her. Resignedly, Eleanor, put her head between Dawn's legs and drove her tongue into the girl's pussy. Younger women had always roused Eleanor; the sight of Dawn's young, tight sex filled her with desire, though she would rather not have done this in public. Dawn tugged on Eleanor's leash to keep her head up against her crotch, and with her other hand she slapped her flogger against Eleanor's exposed back. It was not particularly hard this time; to Eleanor it felt more like a rough massage. Sheila, Amber and Anne watched closely, to see if Eleanor really would do what she was commanded. Eleanor was true to her word; she had sworn herself to Dawn in exchange for her life and she had a strong sense of order and duty, even if it meant being a humble pleasure slave to this girl. Dawn bit her lip and winced as Eleanor tongued her clit and the sensitive lips of her sex. The woman definitely had experience in this area; Dawn hadn't had to train her much at all as far as licking a woman's pussy.

After a few very pleasant minutes, Dawn felt a satisfying orgasm wash through her. The audience applauded. Dawn slackened her grip on Eleanor's leash and the woman sat on her heels, head down in shame. Dawn took the former queen's chin in her hand and smiled as she met her gaze. She was proud of her new slave. Why didn't Eleanor seem proud as well, she wondered? She had done a good job, after all.

“I guess she's learned her place,” said Amber. “Who would have thought?”

“Let's show everyone what you've got,” said Dawn with a smile. She made Elanor bend down on her hands and knees, and put the phallus back inside her groin. Then, with an insistent tug on the leash, she walked Eleanor around the room in a wide circle; the former queen crawled on all fours with her head down.

“Don't let the dildo fall, or you'll be punished,” Dawn warned her, in a tone one might use to scold a small child. When Eleanor didn't crawl fasts enough for her liking, Dawn struck her sore rear end with the cane again, and the older slave picked up her pace. The phallus inside her tormented her, ans she was afraid she might lose control. When she finished her humiliated display of crawling around the room, she looked at Dawn tearfully.

“Do you want to come now?” asked Dawn.

“Yes, Mistress,” said Eleanor quietly.

“Beg me for it.”

“Please, Mistress, let me come,” said Eleanor, almost but not quite sobbing.

“You may,” said Dawn imperiously.

With great relief, Eleanor reached behind herself and worked the dildo back and forth until she let out a loud wail, no longer caring who could see her. The pleasure her body craved overwhelmed everything else at that moment. When she calmed down she was shamed once again, but did her best not to show it.

“She did well, didn't she, mother?” Dawn asked Sheila.

“I suppose so,” said her mother. “It's really quite simple. Give a slave the discipline they need, and always let them know who's in charge. I think she's ready to see the Queen, Dawn.”

“All right,” said the young Amazon. She tugged at Eleanor's leash, and the woman crawled after her Mistress as she walked to the throne room.

Penelope sat on her throne as Talia stood behind her, massaging the Queen's shoulders. She greeted Dawn warmly as the girl entered the chamber, pulling Eleanor behind her on a lead.

“How is she coming along?” Penelope asked.

“A little shy, but she's been well behaved,” said Dawn.

“Have her come up on my lap,” said the Queen.

A pained look crossed Eleanor's face and she hesitated, but Dawn gave her ass a sharp stroke of her cane and she climbed up onto Penelope's lap, face down, her hair falling to hide her face. Penelope ran a hand along her stepmother's firm round behind, noting the red stripes, and swatted her several times. Eleanor whimpered but did not struggle or try to get away. Penelope took Eleanor's chin in her hand and turned the woman's head up to face her.

“Are you going to be obedient from now on?” she asked sternly.

“Yes,” said Eleanor, as a tear of shame ran down her cheek.

“Yes, what?” said Penelope as she slapped Eleanor's ass with her bare hand.

“Yes, my Queen,” said Eleanor with a sob.

“That's better,” said the Queen. “Tell me, would you want to go into exile, if I gave you the choice?”

Eleanor tried to hold back the tears of humiliation. “No, my Queen,” she said.

“Why not, h'm?”

“I want to stay with Mistress Dawn,” said Eleanor. Dawn smiled affectionately at her slave.

“Very well, you can stay here, as long as you obey her,” said Penelope. She looked at her sister, impressed. “I don't know how you did it, but she's yours now.”

“Thank you,” said Dawn. She took Eleanor's lead and the older woman got down off of Penelope's lap to follow her Mistress.

“I want her to suck off the guards outside—all of them, by the end of the day,” said Penelope. “That should teach her her proper place.”

“That should be fun,” said Dawn with a smile. Eleanor looked horrified, and turned to her young Mistress with a pleading look, but Dawn ignored it.

“Come on, Elly,” said Dawn with a tug on her slave's leash. “You've got work to do.” Penelope watched, pleased, as Dawn led her slave out of the royal chamber. Behind her, Talia bent and kissed her Queen's shoulder lovingly.

“Do you really think she'll do it, Mistress?” the slave girl whispered in her ear.

“I think she has a strong submissive streak,” said Penelope. “She may not have accepted it yet, but she's a slave all the way through.”

* * * *

Amber and her mother were staying in a relatively small two story building, of which there were many on the grounds of Emerald Keep. There were two bedrooms and a place to eat and prepare meals, and a comfortable living room. In the morning Lydia was set to cleaning and sweeping the floors, while Claire was dutifully sewing, practicing the needlework Anne had taught her. Both wore tight leather corsets now, with a kind of leather brief and a very short, transparent silk skirt; they also wore open halter tops that lifted and displayed their breasts proudly. Amber had liked the pantaloons Lydia had been dressed in earlier but her mother dismissed them as a silly costume; what Claire and Lydia now wore was more or less typical for slave girls in their kingdom.

Anne found that Claire had made a few mistakes with her sewing and was rather annoyed; Claire was a sweet woman but she could be rather scatterbrained. Anne took a paddle she kept handy and gave Claire a few generous spanks over her knee; the redhead apologized and undid a part of her threading to attempt it again. Far from being hurt or angry, Claire looked at Anne lovingly as the older woman stood over her, supervising her carefully. Her only thought at that moment was of pleasing Anne.

When Amber brought Lydia back from the Palace proper, she found that Claire had finished her chores for the time being, and her mother was trying to teach her how to carry herself. The slave girl walked across the room with a book balanced on her head while Anne looked on, paddle in hand. Claire moved gracefully across the room with a sensuous sway to her hips, and Anne insisted Lydia try it too.

“You need to train her more firmly, dear,” said Anne to her daughter. “She's not quite there yet.”

“I know, mother; I've been helping the Queen,” said Amber, who was much busier now that she was a free woman. Lydia dutifully went to the far wall, where Anne placed a book on her head, and tried to walk as serenely as she could. Part of Amber still envied Lydia, whose legs wobbled as she walked, trying to keep her balance.

“Faster,” said Anne impatiently as she tapped Lydia's ass with her paddle. Lydia winced and almost lost her balance, but made it to the end of the room without the book falling from her head.

“Again,” Anne ordered, and Lydia turned around and walked to the other side of the room. Amber sat down on a sofa in front of a fireplace and watched her progress. When Lydia made it a second time without dropping her book, Anne was satisfied for the time being and Lydia smiled. The pretty brunette knelt in front of Amber and put her head in her Mistress's lap.

“I'm getting better, aren't I?” she asked.

“For a country girl, you're not bad,” said Amber as she stroked Lydia's hair. “Now, clean my room thoroughly, and I'll reward you. Otherwise you'll get a sound spanking.”

“It'll be spotless,” promised Lydia. She took Amber's hand and kissed it. As Amber left to exercise Belle, Lydia thought how lucky she was to have such a beautiful Mistress, and fantasized as she worked about being allowed to share Amber's bed that night.

Amber found Belle helping to clean as best she could. The blonde teenager was on her knees and held a brush awkwardly in her mittened hands, scrubbing alongside the lovely, dark haired Lydia.

“Has had she been doing?” Amber asked her new slave.

“She tries hard, but there's only so much she can do, Mistress,” said Lydia. Belle looked up nervously, wondering if Amber was going to punish her.

“Come with me, you two,” said Amber. “I have some things for Belle in my room, and I'll need your help, Lydia.”

When they reached the cozy upstairs room, Amber had Belle climb on the bed and get on her hands and knees.

“Now,” she said, “We're going to arrange your hair into a more appropriate style.” Together Lydia and Amber tied Belle's blonde hair into a pair of ponytails that hung down from either side. Amber applied some blush to Belle's cheeks, giving them a rosy hue. She then clipped small bells to the young slave's nipple rings, and another to the ring that pierced the girl's labia.

“Isn't she cute?” said Amber. “She's going to be my little pet again.” Belle was delighted to hear this. All she would have to do was entertain her Mistress now; she wouldn't have to work so hard anymore.

“Yes, Mistress, but she has no tail,” observed Lydia.

“I have a solution,” said Amber. “A merchant made these for me.” She went to a large leather bag and took out several items she had acquired just for Belle. The first was some kind of plug, with a tail more or less like the one Belle had before, streaming from on end. Amber put some oil on it for lubrication, and told Belle to stick her ass out. She then pushed the end of the plug into the girl's anus. Belle winced, as the plug was quite wide for her, but the thickest end was soon inside her and tapered off after that. It seemed to fit snugly on its own, so she left it as it was, without any straps, looking more natural.

“Just like her old one,” said Amber, pleased at her young slave's appearance. She tied a pink bow around the base of the tail for decoration, and two more bows around her ponytails to match. “If you need to relieve yourself, Belle, you'll have to beg me and I'll remove it for you. Otherwise it stays inside you.”

Belle whimpered, but Amber was firm. “If you want to be a pet instead of having to scrub floors all day, then that's the way it will be,” said the Mistress.

“She's lucky,” said Lydia with a smile.

Amber fitted a ring gag around Belle's head; it featured white straps that went over her head and under her chin to hold it more firmly in place. More than ever, the young blonde looked like a domestic animal. Amber also put straps on Belle's thighs—these she attached with a short length of chain to her ankle cuffs, so that Belle couldn't extend her legs all the way out. She would have to move around on her knees, and she wore pads to cushion them. Finally, Amber took another pair of chains and used them to connect Belle's wrist cuffs and collar. This way, Belle could not lower her hands past her waist when she sat up or raise her head too high when she walked. Just as a real pet should be, Amber thought. Satisfied with her handiwork, Amber ordered Belle to wag her tail, and the pet slave shook her hips excitedly. With a laugh, Amber sent Belle downstairs to wait for her.

Belle was shy to be seen around Emerald Keep, though it was hard to tell with her gag harness on.

“Come on, Belle, I want everyone to see you,” said Amber. She knew Belle preferred to play in private but if she wanted to be a pet, she was going to have to get over that shyness, Amber decided. She clipped a leash to Belle's collar and led her outside, walking her young slave on all fours along the paths that circled the grounds of the palace. She stopped and greeted her friends, both the Amazons she had met in the last few months and people she had not seen her exile. They thought Belle was quite adorable, and the young slave girl seemed to perk up a little as they stroked her head her and pinched her nipples and cheeks affectionately. Her bashfulness was beginning to ebb away.

Near the main gate Amber found the princess Gwendolyn, her hair now arranged in pigtails like Belle and wearing a short, transparent silk negligee and frilly lace panty. She was relaxing in the garden, careful to stay within sight of the palace guards, as she had been ordered. Gwen was nervous to see Amber. The young princess was collared and cuffed, just as Amber had once been, and bore several fading red stripes on her backside.

The princess curtsied gracefully when Amber approached. “Hello, Mistress Amber, I was just taking a walk...Mistress Sheila said I could go outside for a little while.”

“You're behaving yourself, then?” asked Amber.

“Yes, ma'am,” said Gwen bashfully, knowing how silly and girlish she must look to her former servant. “I'm sorry, about everything that happened to you. It must have been very painful. I'll understand if you're angry with me.” She looked down at the ground guiltily, and fidgeted.

“I'm not angry,” said Amber, brushing Gwen's cheek. “They seem to have found a fitting place for you.”

Gwen nodded. “I'm trying to be good; I really am,” she said earnestly.

“This is Belle,” said Amber, nodding to the crawling, ponytailed teenager she was leading by a leash.

“She looks...interesting,” said Gwen in wonder. “She's so cute.” Belle looked up at Gwen neutrally. They looked much alike, the two of them, with similar hair colors and styles.

“Sit up, Belle,” Amber ordered. Belle stood on her knees, her hands hanging below her breasts by their chains. She stuck her tongue out and panted, and turned her torso side to side so that the bells on her nipples jingled. Gwen laughed with surprise.

“I don't know if I could do that...I really don't,” she said. “She must be very loyal to you. Please, Mistress Amber, may I walk her for a bit?” She asked so sweetly that Amber allowed Gwen to take hold of Belle's leash. The two of them walked around the garden together. It was a beautiful place, kept in pristine condition by servants and slaves. Belle walked ahead of Gwen and sniffed the fragrant, blooming flowers, crawling as far as the leash allowed in order to gather everything in.

“Sheila will take good care of you,” said Amber. “She has a way of dealing with girls who misbehave, too; I'm sure you know what I mean.”

“Yes,” said Gwen. “I thought being queen was all that mattered, but in a lot of ways I'm happier now,” she said. “Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes, actually, it does,” Amber said. “How about you, Belle?” she asked to scampering slave girl ahead of her. The young pet shook her hips lewdly to wag her tail, and both Amber and Gwen laughed. Gwen knelt and reached her hand out, and Belle crawled to her, licking the hand through her ring gag, very much enjoying herself. Gwen patted the young slave's head.

“Perhaps Mistress Sheila would let me play with her some time—If you don't mind,” said Gwen.

“It would be nice to have a playmate for Belle,” said Amber. “If you're good you can come over.”

After Gwen left to return to her Mistress, Amber went to say goodbye to Keira, since the Amazon would be returning to her island home soon. She found Keira outside the stables, with two ponygirls hitched to a small cart. They were the noblewomen, Amber saw—the Lady Isabelle and her daughter, Helen. They looked impressive in their harnesses and bridles, standing at attention for fear of their Mistress's whip. Their red-gold hair was braided into a single long ponytail behind them, and they wore matching tail plugs. Keira stood by them, giving them a bowl of water that they lapped up with their tongues. Keira walked quickly to Amber when she saw her approach and embraced her.

“Leaving already?” asked Amber. Keira nodded.

“This place isn't for me,” she said. “I'd rather be hunting in the woods than laying about in a castle.”

“I'll miss you,” said Amber.

Keira kissed the blonde's forehead, and knelt to pat Belle on the head. “Take good care of her,” said the Amazon. “And yourself, too.”

“It still seems a little strange,” said Amber. “Sometimes I feel like, well—like I want more discipline,” she smiled seductively at her former Mistress. Keira looked at her curiously.

“I see,” said the Amazon thoughtfully. “I can stay here another day or so. Poor Helen twisted an ankle a few days ago, and I don't want to rush her back.” She noted the crystal that Amber still wore around her waist—the one that Keira had given her back in Lyria. Then, Keira suddenly pulled something out of her pocket and lifted up Amber's dress.

“What are you doing?” asked Amber, alarmed that someone might see them.

“Hush,” said Keira. “Why must you outlanders where so many cumbersome clothes?” She felt her way under Amber's petticoat and pulled aside the crotch of her lace, silk panty. Belle looked on curiously. Amber couldn't bring herself to resist Keira's advance; the woman still had a powerful hold over her. She felt Keira pulling at the rings of her labia that were still there.

“Ow,” said Amber. “What was that for?” She then realized what Keira was doing—the Amazon had pulled out a small lock, and now Amber's labial rings were secured together.

“You can't do that,” Amber protested half-heartedly. “I'm not your slave anymore.”

“Oh, I think you are,” said Keira with a sly wink.

“Please, take the lock off?” begged Amber.

“First thing tomorrow morning,” said Keira. “Come down to the dungeon. Wear nothing underneath your dress. Understand?”

“Yes, Mist—I mean, yes Keira,” said Amber humbly. “I guess you'll always be 'Mistress' to me.”

“You're going to be a good one, yourself,” said Keira. “I just want us to have some fun before I leave—for old time's sake.” The two embraced again, and kissed passionately.

“All right, tomorrow,” said Amber. “But now you've got me excited. I won't sleep much.”

“You'll be thinking about ways to please me?”

“Of course.”

“That's my girl.”

* * END * *