The Amazon Queen

The Amazon Queen

by RiverOtter

Warning! Adult Content!

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

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

Sincere comments, feedback and criticism are welcome.

Characters are listed at the beginning of chapter 1.

* * *

Chapter 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.

* * * *