The Tangled Skein

The slaves were selected for their physical beauty, the men strong and muscular and the women sleek and nubile. The Queen had also made sure to select the slaves that attended her based on more lascivious specifications, the male slaves all possessed thick cocks and exceptional sexual stamina while the female slaves had the kind of pleasing curves that men lusted after.

Each slave was attired the same as every slave in attendance, a simple gold hoop around the neck and a short skirt belted about the waist. An arrangement that did nothing to hide a state of sexual excitement on the part of the male slaves.

Indeed, it often amused her to order one or more of her male slaves to take one the young girls while the Queen looked on. She particularly liked it when the girls resisted, struggling against the more powerful male slave as he bent her over, lifted the short skirt and took her roughly from behind.

However, as much as she enjoyed watching her enforced orgies she never touched any of the slaves attending her nor did she allow any to touch her. For that she had different tastes. Each night her servants brought her a new girl to share her bed. Each one more lovely than the last. Sometimes they would watch the antics of the Queen's slaves in orgy, other times she would dismiss her servants and would take her pleasure from the girl in privacy.

She watched as the heavy doors to her bedchamber swung open, admitting a single girl bound between two muscular soldiers. The girls brought before her were quite often frightened, a few were defiant and some were even confident. This girl was one of the confident ones. It didn't matter, the one thing that all the girls shared was that no of them lived past the dawn of the new day.

This girl was tall and slender, almost as tall as her beefy captors. Her brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders in an artful tangle. However, it was her bearing that truly set her apart. More than just confident, the girl standing before her was haughty, imperious even. She directed a look of disdain at the Queen as if it were she that were Queen and the Queen a mere lowly commoner. For a moment the Queen considered summarily ordering her guards to execute the woman on the spot but curiosity held her tongue. Shows of defiance were normal, but disdain? That was something new. What made this girl so different?

In most cases the girls brought before her had arrived at the palace as slaves. The Queen didn't concern herself to much as to how the girls were obtained. So long as there was a new girl every night the particulars as to how they had arrived didn't matter to her in the least. The girl standing before her was no slave, that much was apparent. She was also a foreigner. Her pale skin would stand out anywhere in the vast and powerful kingdom the Queen ruled.

Certainly it made a striking contrast with the Queen's swarthier complexion. It wouldn't be the first time she had spent the night with her naked limbs intertwined in those of a pale foreigner. It wasn't likely to be the last either.

"Strip her," she ordered, nodding to the two soldiers bracketing the girl.

The soldiers literally jumped at the command, both turning to tear off the girl's robes. However, the girl was even quicker. "I can do it myself, no need for these brutes to rend a perfectly good linen robe." She reached up and slowly pulled both the outer and inner robes off her shoulders.

The Queen hid her surprise, the girl was fluent. Usually the foreign girls brought to her could only manage a few words and spent most of their time in her presence pleading in their own guttural languages. This foreign girl was cultured it seemed. Not that it mattered, come the dawn this girl would be as dead as any of the other girls who had graced the Queen's bed.

The Queen nodded with approval as she watched the girl strip to the waist, the robes held together by the girl's belt. Her skin was flawless with its the smooth light complexion and her breasts were full but firm. The Queen licked her lips, she would enjoy taking this girl, of that she was certain. "What's your name, girl?"

"Arachne," the girl said.

"Arachne," the Queen repeated as if tasting the name. "An unusual name."

"I am unusual so it's only fitting I have an unusual name," Arachne replied.

"And pray tell, what is so unusual about you?"

Arachne didn't reply. Instead she undid her belt and let her robes fall to the floor.

The Queen gasped. Arachne was

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