Prologue: The Chronicler - Sex Stories

Prologue: The Chronicler

The Queen singled me out from the rubble of girls that she had carried off from what was now a smouldering ruin, but used to be the, visually at least, resplendent city-state of Amberstrat. I didn't stand out from the rest, except perhaps in looking even more rugged. I was just the first to raise my hand when she asked if any among us knew how to read and write. I regretted my initiative as soon as my hand went up and her eyes fixed on me. During the siege, there were whispers that she had come to liberate us from the whorehouses and the slave arenas that were our destiny as foreign, destitute females. But, I thought as she motioned me to come forward, it might have been wishful thinking to believe these rumours - others insisted she was just here to abduct us for her own slave workforce and pleasure domes. She was after all known throughout the continent as the Whore Queen.

I approached her and she lifted my chin, preventing me from looking away as she gazed straight into my eyes. Forced to look at her face, I was surprised by what I saw. She was of course very pretty - but where I had expected to see a cold face with icy eyes piercing my soul, I saw a woman who sort of reminded me of the blacksmith's wife from back home. Her fiery hair and large hazel eyes prevented her from looking too intimidating even though she tried to look strict.

"Clean her and bring her to my tent," she ordered one of her guards and turned away. Her voice was deeper than I would have ...

... expected.

Two armoured figures grabbed me each by an arm and carried me away like a stick to a pavillion where I was stripped, and thrown into a wooden bathtub before being showered with barrels of lukewarm water emptied on me. I was then put into a simple but clean dress and carried the same way to a large - but not the largest in the camp as far as I could tell - tent. The guards threw me in and stood outside. The tent was empty for the time being. I was worried - what did she want with me? The forced bath made me think of various stories about what it meant to be in the service of the Whore Queen, but then again, she picked me solely for knowing reading and writing - clean or not, I was as attractive as a goat. I always thought my destiny in Amberstrat would have been one of the cheapest brothels, the ones where paying a little extra meant that a customer was free to return the merchandise in bad condition - or not at all.

Remembering this, I calmed down - nothing would be as bad. I checked out the tent. It contained a desk with a couple of chairs, two large chests that I assumed contained the Queen's attire, a small round table, and a bed, which was more like a pile of giant pillows. Three tall lantern posts would illuminate it at night.

"You might like to eat something," I heard that deep voice from behind me and jumped.

The Queen looked at me and forced herself to smile as she laid down a small tray on the table. She had dimples that would make her look cute when she ...