Disclaimer #1: I don’t own the characters, I just love writing about them.

Disclaimer #2: This is erotica, that is to say, there is a definite focus on the details of the more sensual elements of the "plot." If for some reason there are laws preventing you from reading erotic stories about women, you might want to avoid this one.

Description: Xena is the Conqueror, ruler of the known world. In this story, she gets a new body slave. Go ahead; guess what the slave’s name is!

Didja like it?: MiladyCo@aol.com 

by Xena’s Little Bitch
copyright 10/00



It was dawn as I stood on the deck of the slave ship headed back to Greece. The motion of the water disoriented and nauseated me, but I was driven to look towards the land, towards the next step of my life’s journey. Everything was a dull gray and I hoped it was not a sign of things to come. I had had all sorts of plans for my life when I was fifteen, but that was before I became a slave. The last five years had been decent ones within the context of slavery, but it was not quite like what life would have been. And now I had been given as a gift to the Conqueror; who was to say how many of the stories about her were true? My master in Chin had been kind to me; he was not an evil man, and I was a good cook, a good story teller, and I quickly became an excellent lover. So my first five years of slavery had been as pleasant as one could possibly hope for. I don’t know the details of the deal that ended me up on my way to Corinth, but there it was.

The Conqueror’s palace was, not surprisingly, enormous. I was led down the halls by a rope around my neck, eventually stopping in a huge bathing room. There, three lovely women bathed me in silence, and I let myself relax into it. Why not? There was nothing to lose.

I was dried and perfumed and clothed in a soft white cotton shift, and a brown leather collar was fastened around my neck, with a long leash attached. Many other slaves over the years had been impressed by my ability to rise above things that they themselves found humiliating. I don’t know what it was that enabled me to endure it all so gracefully, but somehow I managed to keep the heart of who I was in tact, no matter what happened.

I was left alone in the most beautiful room I had ever seen. No one was as rich as the Conqueror, but she also seemed to have good taste. Or perhaps just my taste. Everything was dark blue with a gold trim, big cushions on the giant bed and the couches, everything else was blue and gold as well; the curtains, the carpet. I knelt on the floor by the bed and waited.

It didn’t take long. Though I stared down at the carpet, I could tell it was her by the unmistakable aura of confidence that flowed from her. Her presence was immense, and she smelled like hyacinth, cinnamon, leather and power. She stopped just inside the door as she closed it and I could feel her eyes on me. She walked straight over to me and lifted my chin so she could look at my face, pulling me to my feet. I continued to look down until I felt her grip on my jaw tighten, so I looked into her eyes. It took everything I had to hide my reaction to what I saw there and I prayed she couldn’t hear my heart beating. With her right hand she ripped the white cotton dress from my body, and with her left she pushed me back onto the bed. She was on top of me immediately, her mouth on my neck, her hands on my breasts, her thigh between my own. I was on fire, but I dared not touch her. I had no idea what the rules were, what she wanted from me, what she liked. I tried to control my reactions to this beautiful, electrifying woman, but the way my back arched and pressed my breasts into her hands gave me away. She sucked my neck and it made me want to scream. The Conqueror picked me up and moved me farther back on the bed, lifting the skirt of her soft silk robe so that when she laid herself back down on top of me, I could feel her sex throbbing and wet against my thigh. She fucked me slowly and deliberately, like nothing I had ever experienced. Her eyes were closed and I stared up into her face, my own eyes hooded in pleasure. I longed to touch her, to grab her shoulders and push up against her thigh, but I didn’t dare. Suddenly she opened her eyes and they met mine and it was explosive. I felt my orgasm begin as she looked away, burying her face in my hair and thrusting more quickly against me. She came almost immediately, and let herself fall next to me on the bed. We lay there staring at the ceiling, though in truth it was too high and too dark for us to see. After a few moments I felt her breathing slow and she drifted into the realm of Morpheus.

Well, that had certainly been a surprise! An auspicious start, I had to think. I purposefully did not analyze what I saw when I looked in her eyes; I wasn’t sure I had the tools to figure it out. I prayed that this beginning not be a joke, that maybe the Conqueror would not mistreat me, and she would continue to share her pleasure with me. Though I had had sex thousands of times, not once had it been out of real desire, but the Conqueror...the Conqueror was something else. A body slave should never even dream of feeling as good as I did falling asleep that night. There was nothing in particular that I prayed to, but that nothing seemed somewhat responsive; I wasn’t dead yet, after all.

My dreams that night were like my evening had been; my body open, naked, inflamed by the Conqueror’s touch. She lay next to me on her bed and as she entered me with her fingers, I woke up to find that it was real; she was on top of me again, her long fingers moving inside me. I let out a small gasp and hooked my arm around her neck. I panted into her ear in time with her thrusts. I couldn’t think; I didn’t care that I had chanced touching her. I was more excited than I had ever been in my life. She kept the rhythm steady, letting my body ride it. I was sweating and I had to remind myself that there was one rule so far: no speaking. Moaning was allowed, and as I came I took full advantage of that. She did not look at me as she stood and walked to a basin of water that stood by the window. As she held the leather leash, I followed her. The sky was gray, the sun would rise soon. She took a cloth and soaked it in the water, then gestured for me to spread my legs. I did, and the water was warm, her touch gentle. She washed my thighs and my sex without looking at my face. Then she lead me to a wardrobe and opened it, gesturing inside it and then to me. What would she want to see me in? Something in the way she had done it told me she really enjoyed ripping the white shift off me before taking me. I pointed at something simple and white, which she removed from the hanger and handed to me. I put it on quickly.

The Conqueror’s servants entered and dressed her. She held my leash the whole time, and I knelt on the floor next to her. The situation was starting to become clear; I was to be her sex slave, and only that. For if I was not going to dress her, there were no other duties intimate enough to make sense that they be mine. Except perhaps to bathe her. Which would be, I imagined, as enjoyable as the duties I had performed for her so far. Duties? All I had done was allow her to make love to me. Allowed the Conqueror? Make love? Just keep staring at the floor, Gabrielle. No more thinking.

The day began with a work out. I followed her to a practice field where some nervous soldiers were waiting. The sun was still not up and it was cold. The Conqueror pulled a knife out of her boot and threw it into the ground. The handle was visible from above the grass and she gestured for me to be seated next to it. Then she leaned down and strung my leash around the knife, as if I were her horse at a hitching post. I looked up at her and she caught my eye. I wanted to smile at her but I didn’t dare. Instead I watched her fight for a two hours, easily beating every man present. I loved the way she moved. So effortlessly powerful, changing tactics and techniques in an instant, catching her opponents off guard. She was so strong and yet I could swear in moments she looked like a little girl. When she was done she stood staring at me, then ordered the soldiers to leave with a word. It was the first time I heard her speak. "GO!" she had said. Commanding and sensual at the same time. As the men limped off the field and back to the castle, she turned again toward me. She was going to take me right there on the ground, and the thought of it had me wet already. How chivalrous of her to make the soldiers leave. As she walked towards me I felt my heart pounding between my legs. She stood above me and slowly untied the laces of her pants. She watched for my reaction, and I let my eyes meet hers again. She was so beautiful, there was just no other word to describe her elegant features, her long black hair, her sensual body which I so longed to see. But then, here it was, right in my face, the Conqueror’s womanhood, and what she desired was crystal clear. I let myself inhale her scent, before delicately tasting her. I knew that delicate was not what she wanted but I took a chance that she’d enjoy making that clear to me, so I slowly snaked my tongue along her wetness. I heard her sigh far above me, and then felt her hand at the back of my head. I thought she was going to pull me into her, but she seemed to be stroking my hair. I let my tongue enter within her folds, and gently circle the center of her pleasure; my lips moved against hers and I drank deeply of her essence. The sounds she made were nothing like speech, and they aroused me deeply. I felt her hand move my hair aside and cup the back of my neck under my collar. Her hand was so warm, so large; it made my neck feel both desiring and sated. Slowly the Conqueror began to thrust her pelvis, and I made my tongue hard and flat, to pleasure as much of her as I possibly could. She bucked against my mouth and the rhythm told me just how good I felt to her, and suddenly it speeded up until she was groaning her climax into the sky. She stood there, holding my head against her thigh. I could tell that something had happened as she quickly laced her pants and grabbed my leash, pulling me along after her towards the castle. She’d thought of something important, but I didn’t know what.

The Conqueror’s throne room was the largest room I had ever seen in my life. Huge windows covered with heavy curtains, almost no furniture. The Conqueror sat sprawled out on her low throne, with me on the floor between her legs, my leash in her hand. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of her voice as she spoke to her supplicants and her advisors. I paid little attention to the content; I knew the less information a slave had the safer she was. But her voice was beautiful, rich and low and sensual; enthralling. She knew it was lovely and she used it well; subtly manipulative in a way most people wouldn’t even notice. And because she didn’t share it with me, it was also forbidden, magical. Eventually the Conqueror’s voice grew bored and I felt her hand slowly slip under my arm and into my shift. Gods. Her hand cupped my breast and covered it’s entire surface easily. I felt my nipple harden under her touch and as my breathing quickened I could have cared less if anyone knew she was touching me. I had been taken in front of a crowd before, in ways both exciting and infuriating, and never had I allowed myself to feel anything like shame. Though I had come to know sensual pleasure under most unfortunate circumstances, over time it had become my friend, my solace, and my savior. It gave me what little power I had, and it made me feel beautiful. But when the Conqueror’s hand slid down my abdomen and stopped just short of what would have been my goal for it, I shivered. I felt fear. I don’t know why. She abruptly dismissed her men.

Suddenly I was alone in the throne room with the Conqueror of the known world. The drawn blinds made it seem as if it were night, and candles lit our small area of the huge, dark, space. At the base of the throne was a pile of giant pillows, reds and pinks and golds, in silk and velvet. She lay me down upon them, detaching the leash from my collar. It was only a symbol of the completeness of my slavery; while I still wore her insignia on the collar around my neck, I was hers . The Conqueror moved to a part of the room that I could not see and returned soon after to stand above me, looking down. I could feel her eyes. She had had me in a state of arousal for hours now without release; perhaps now she would ease my need. She knelt beside me and gently pushed me onto my stomach on the pillows. I felt my short skirt riding up to expose my bottom, then her warm hands caressing my skin. I groaned and pressed myself up against her hands; her touch was already wild, impassioned, and she slipped one hand between my legs, finding my wetness. I was lost in the feeling, forgetting I had planned to take the wise road of the least response, and I let my legs spread wide, pressing myself down onto her hand. She stroked me and I moaned into the pillow that I clutched to my breast, grinding against her fingers. Suddenly she put her hands on my hips and pulled my bottom up to meet her crotch. To my immense surprise, not only was she naked, but she was pressing something between my legs that had not been between hers before. I gasped as she pushed back and forth, letting it run through my wetness, becoming covered with my desire. I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted her in that moment. Slowly she entered me, running her hands along my back and my thighs, pulling slowly out of me and reentering just as smoothly, as her hands slid along my body to my breasts. I had never been fucked this skillfully before, no one had ever touched me with such certainty, with such mastery, with such care. I could feel my skin flush; I was slowly turning red from my toes to my scalp, because the Conqueror was taking me like this. I could do nothing but hold my body up on my knees and my forearms as I reveled in her deep penetration. Never changing from her slow rhythm, she lowered her body so she was crouching over me. Her breasts and stomach pressed against my back, and her elbows rested on the pillows next to mine. She fucked me with an easy, lazy rhythm that soon had us both panting. The Conqueror kissed my neck and I almost lost consciousness. Before I knew what was happening, she had spun me around so I was on my back, looking up at her in all her glory as she thrust in and out of my engorged sex. Behind her there was only shadowy blackness. I caught her eye and couldn’t look away. She gathered the material of my shift in her fist and pulled it towards her, ripping it off me with a grunt. Her face was flushed and her lips were so beautiful. She pulled my thighs higher onto her own, thrusting more deeply into me; I knew it would be over soon. My ecstasy was too intense to last for long. I gripped her upper arms, allowing myself the pleasure of her muscles under my hands. For a moment it felt like what I imagined being in love was like; a sublime and passionate union, a loss of the self in another. And then I realized that it couldn’t be real, that it was me and The Conqueror. I was a slave, no one’s beloved, and I never would be. Tears rolled down my face into my hair and then the pillow beneath my head. A look of terror came onto the Conqueror’s face. She stopped fucking me and put her hand on my cheek, wiping my tears away. I was almost scared now, looking up into her stormy eyes. She bent down and touched her lips to my cheek. I could hear her breathe in my scent, and I did hers as well. Intoxicating. Her whole body was resting on mine now, and I felt her hand at my neck. She moved her head back and looked into my eyes, and then she leaned down and kissed me.

It was a kiss so tender that at first it was practically chaste. I opened my lips slightly and let my tongue touch her mouth where her lips met as she pressed them against mine. Her lips opened for me and I pushed up into her, running my hands down her back. I felt her hand on my breast and I groaned into her mouth as she began fucking me again. My hands found her butt and used the leverage to press her against me harder. She had known what I needed, and given it to me. How was it possible? Her kisses captivated me, adding an intimacy to our carnality that satisfied me deeply. As she thrust into me more quickly, I wrapped my arms around her tightly, one hand on the back of her head. It was her passionate moaning in my ear that sent me over the edge. I screamed wordlessly for what seemed like hours, and she fucked me until I stopped. She fell on top of me and we lay there in the huge, shadowy throne room.

I guess I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I remembered I was waking up in the Conqueror’s bed and the sun was streaming through the window. She was still asleep and our bodies were tangled together, as if still involved in intimacies we knew little about. I was staring into her neck, and finding it fascinating. Last night came into my mind, the Conqueror’s naked body, and her kisses. The way she looked at me. What was it? I felt her groan in her sleep and settle against me, pulling me more closely to her. I allowed myself to picture it; the Conqueror above me, looking down into my face before she kissed me. Gods, it wasn’t love, was it? Was that what love looked like?

There was a quiet tapping at the door. It slowly grew louder as the Conqueror slept on. Finally with a bang, she awoke, unconsciously pulling me even more completely into her arms.

"Leave us alone!" she yelled. The banging stopped. The Conqueror wrapped the length of her legs around mine and sighed. Us. Her skin was hot and I longed to writhe against it. The things I wanted to do to this woman, the things I wanted her to do to me. She stretched and yawned, and rolled over onto her back, pulling me with her. I lay on the Conqueror’s naked body, my head resting on her chest, her arms wrapped around me.

The world felt different from on top of the Conqueror. Her hands on my back felt different; everything did after the night before in the throne room. But her breathing was the same; it gave away her desire. My head rose and fell with her chest and my insides shook. My throat ached from not speaking and my nipples were like tiny rocks against her skin. She wanted me again, and, gods, did I want her. Slowly she moved her thighs apart and I shifted so one of mine fell between them. She moaned, I pushed myself up on my hands so I could look into her eyes. She was smiling. I leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft against mine and she held my face in her hands. Everything fell away; my past, my world, my name. There was only her mouth, her tongue, and my desire. The soft sounds she made. All the scents of her, intensified by sleep.

So we kissed and we caressed each other. These little words kept coming into my mind, things I wanted to say to her, or to call her. But we did not share words, only sensations. Her eyes, when I pulled back to look into them again, gave me permission, gave me control; she wanted me to have her however I wanted her, and I knew exactly how I wanted her. Slowly I slid down her body, my lips on her neck, my hands on her breasts. She groaned and let her hands roam over me, massaging my shoulders, tangling in my hair. I sucked her nipples as if I thought I could pull her inside me, not asking myself why I would want to. The way she pushed her breasts up into my face reminded me of myself the first time she touched me, as if we had both awakened a new kind of desire in each other. I felt myself shaking as I moved further down her body. The scent of her sex permeated the room and made me dizzy. I kissed her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. I breathed warm air into the hair between her legs and she raised her hips to meet my mouth, I licked her gently, slowly, as I had the day before on the practice field, but today it was so different. Today I knew that it was me she wanted when she took me; not just release, not blind pleasure, but me.

The Conqueror’s hand in my hair moved to my chin, asking for my attention. Her eyes were wild and her breathing was ragged. She handed me something and when I took it in my palm, I knew it was the leather phallus we had used last night; it still smelled like me. I looked into her eyes with the question in mine, and saw "yes" so clearly reflected. I knelt on the bed between her legs and she watched as I attached the harness to my hips. Of course I had done this before, taken other slave girls in front of receptive audiences, but that was performance. This was something else. I lay myself back down on her, the phallus trapped between our bodies. Immediately we were kissing again, and I pressed the phallus against her wetness, letting it slide back and forth. Soon our panting made kissing too hard and I opened my eyes and looked down into her face. I gave another push along her wetness and she moaned and I felt her legs open wide for me. I held my breath and with one smooth thrust, I entered the Conqueror.

The sound she made as she received me was one of extraordinary pleasure and release. I know it was just a piece of leather, but I felt like I was inside her, and it felt perfect. I reveled in the sun on my back and the warmth of the Conqueror's eyes as I moved my hips so slowly back and forth. The butt of the phallus pressed against me, adding to the excitement I felt simply watching the Conqueror’s response to my touch. I fucked her slowly, losing myself in her eyes and the amazing sensations. My need to pleasure her was like nothing I had ever felt.

Suddenly her hand moved to the table by the bed and I saw the knife flash for an instant before the cold blade was against my neck. I had no time to react, to even consider her purpose as I felt my collar pulled tight and released. I watched as it and the knife fell to the floor by the bed.

Time stopped.

The Conqueror and I looked into each other’s eyes and tried to bring our breathing under control.

"I want it to be real," she whispered.

I could have cried, or screamed in joy, or run from the castle. I was free. Slowly I pulled out of her. She lay on the dark blue sheet watching. Still kneeling between her legs I reached down to the floor and picked up the knife. Her eyes were on my hand as I slowly raised it and moved it against her throat. Her gaze locked with mine; she lifted her arms and gripped the headboard. I bent to kiss her and her tongue lured mine into her mouth. I entered her again and she raised her hips to meet me. The knife fell from my fingers to the floor. I took her hands in mine and held them to the pillow above her head, our fingers intertwined almost painfully. I thrust in and out of her slowly and our kisses deepened. I accidentally let her hands go and they found my shoulders. There was no thought, just instinct now, to be closer to her, to make her come, to press against her harder and faster until I had accomplished my goals. My body slid against her and I thrust into her with a fury, sweat dripping from my skin onto hers, my eyes closed in concentration. Her hands squeezed my breasts as I pumped into her and I felt her watching me as I came, and then she came, like a flower exploding beneath me.

With what energy I had left I climbed off her and unbuckled the harness, letting it drop to the floor by the bed. Trying to catch my breath, I sat and looked down at her, still flushed with passion. I stroked her cheek. She took my hand in hers.

"Please don’t leave me," said the Conqueror. She sat up and pulled both my hands into her lap. She was breathtakingly glorious in the morning light, all soft and vulnerable, her hair spilling down around her shoulders. I gathered her into my arms and held her tightly. Suddenly I knew for sure; this was what love was like.

"I won’t." It came out a broken whisper.

"I mean, not ever," she said into my hair.

"Don’t worry. It’s real," I whispered. I pulled back to look at her; she was smiling radiantly, tears in her eyes. In that moment, it felt as if my life finally began again, and I realized that when it came down to it, I had ended up giving the Conqueror the same thing she had given me.

the end