"Daria, the Warrior Queen" (closed to current writers)

[PennySaver]

"Daria, the Warrior Queen"

CLOSED

https://i.imgur.com/eZnhe8C.jpg​

Daria slowed Midnight as the road topped the last hillock before Greendale. A thick, gray-black smoke billowed high into the air as flames danced from the two dozen or so homes and businesses made of a combination of wood, sod, and reed. Men, women, children, and all form of stock animal and flightless fowl scurried from the conflagration toward the perimeter of the village, right into the hands of a 300 man contingent of the Northland's Black Army.

Daria urged Midnight to speed again with a soft kick to his flanks, then reigned the 1,500 pound beast to a stop just feet short of crushing through a huddling, fear-filled mass of villagers; soldiers surrounded this one of many groups of survivors, threatening them to the ground with spears, swords, and drawn bows.

"Who among you wish to die, here and now?" Daria called down to them loudly in an effort to overcome the cries and whimpers of the more fearful of the captives. "Who among you would be slaughtered here and now, misguided by a loyalty to a feeble King who cares not for you?"

Not a hand raised; not a voice called out I will … I will die for my King rather than follow you. Daria looked off toward the animals scattering all about the recently harvested fields of grains, turnips, and potatoes, then looked back to the trembling villagers.

"Anyone who fills their hands with a beast and follows me away from this place will live," she declared. "Anyone who fails at this will be killed. This would be a shame..."

Daria looked directly at a pretty young thing who likely had just reached her Age of Consent and smiled devilishly before finishing, "...particularly if you look as delicious as this one."

The woman atop the snorting horse ordered her men to back away, opening space through which the villagers could escape. Those terrifying men in turn began ordering the villagers to hurry off, to capture a goat or a duck or anything they could chase down. It took a moment for the first brave soul to rise and move off; it would be a woman, not one of the few men, and although she was obviously concerned that this was some sort of trap, she was soon rushing off after a nearby sheep in an effort to fulfill the task.

One by one, the villagers rose and rushed off to do the same. Soon enough -- not just here but in at least three other locations about the burning village -- the survivals of Greendale were scurrying about the recently cut fields, trying desperately to catch themselves a token animal before there were none left to capture.

Daria noticed one man zigzagging through the cut grain field toward the still tall native grasses … beyond which was the thick forest; he was paying far more attention to the soldiers behind him than he was to the various animals scurrying about, some of which could have been easily caught by him. She knew what was in the man's mind; she knew what had to be done about it as well.

"Archer!" she called to a nearby soldier. She gestured and demanded, "Give me your bow and a whistler."

The man hurried forward, handed his mistress his weapon and the very special arrow, then stepped back. Pressing a knee into Midnight's ribs to urge the animal to turn, Daria put her left side to the man in question. Just as she expected, when he was near enough to the forest to believe himself out of danger, the man suddenly began sprinting for the nearby tree line.

Daria drew, aimed, and loosed the arrow. It was designed to whistle as it flew through the air, to attract the attention of anyone in the vicinity. From all about the wild scramble for stock, people looked up for the source of the high pitched sound, some of them in time to see the arrow penetrate the fleeing man's back and emerge from the front of his rib cage.

Most of those Daria had ordered to retrieve the fleeing wealth of the village looked from the screaming man to her. She waited until enough of them were making eye contact with her, then gave them a simple hurry, get to it gesture. Without exception, all of them returned to the quest to capture an animal that would mean their lives would continue.

Daria looked beyond the rather comical scene to the village beyond. To the left and right of the flames and smoke she could see more villagers moving toward her soldiers, displaying what they'd caught in hopes that their lives would be spared; one man pulled at a rope, lead a bullock by its nose ring, while several women clutched geese and chickens and children led goats, either by their tethers or simply by grasping a horn.

With some expected and now familiar orders, Daria's army now divided into two main tasks: forming the villagers up in the road leading into the forest from which they'd attacked, and binding those villagers together, though, the littlest of the survivors were simply allowed to grasp onto the hems of the clothing of a mother, father, or other familiar survivor.

Soon, the procession of villagers, stock, and the soldiers guarding both began moving away from the conflagration.
Daria looked about the crowd and found herself pleased. Somewhere around half of the community's population of 60 had survived the attack. Most of the men had been killed defending their homes and families, of course, but there were 6 or 7 who had survived and could be sold as labor slaves for considerable coin. Amongst the dozen or more women of age, Daria counted at least 5 who would sell well as sex slaves, while the rest looked strong enough to provide labor in homes, shops, and fields. They'd provide sexual service to their masters, too, of course; all female slaves were intruded upon at one point in their life. But Daria doubted she could get good money for them from the brothel owners who would come calling upon her at the next auction.

There was no way of knowing now the future of the children, though. More often than not it depended upon their age. The youngest of them could be conditioned out of remembering their previous lives. The older ones might just spend the rest of their lives in chains if their new masters deemed it necessary. The most rebellious ones who couldn't be tamed would spend the rest of their short lives in the ore mines or the fighting pits.

Daria looked down to a woman leading a milking cow just as the woman herself looked up at her captor. She was beautiful in the face, if you ignored the expression she had for woman who'd just led the annihilation of her village. She was beautiful in body as well, as was easy to tell by the shift she wore in place of a more proper dress. Daria wondered if perhaps she had been changing at the time of the attack … or if she'd been about to engage or just finishing being engaged in a bit of morning playtime with a mate.

"Get that animal all the way to its destination," she told the woman, "And I'll see about having you sold to one of the less brutal brothel owners."

She smiled a bit wider at the woman's reaction, then added, "Or maybe I'll keep you for myself. There is always some guest at my home who is looking for a slit that is easier to look upon than that milker."

CLOSED

 

[SandS13]

It was utter chaos. The smoke, the screams. Now, they were chasing livestock and hoping it would help save their lives.

Meara was utterly terrified but she refused to show it at first. She was calm, steadfast despite the lack of clothes she wore and the carnage that was around her. She kept her hand on the cow's rope. Her knuckles were white though as she held onto it. It helped to stop her arm from shaking.

Her blue eyes looked forward, following the train of people and animals. The smoke was in her nose, stinging her throat and chest. The sharp smell of blood accompanied it. She was sure her dark curls were matted with mud and likely blood.

She cast a glance up, perhaps a mistake, as she passed the woman on the horse. She was in charge, she was the one who had led them here and now was forcing her and the others to become slaves.

"Get that animal all the way to its destination and I'll see about having you sold to one of the less brutal brothel owners."

Meara's eyes went wide in horror. She wanted to flee but knew if she did she would be cut down like the others. She was determined to survive, to live. This would not break her. She set her jaw and lifted her chin a little.

"Or maybe I'll keep you for myself. There is always some guest at my home who is looking for a slit that is easier to look upon than that milker."

The statement shocked Meara. She had never heard a woman speak like that before. Her lips parted and cheeks reddened. She kept walking.

The woman was now behind her and Meara's head was full of her words. Keep you for myself. She shivered. What Meara knew for sure was that she did not wish to go to a brothel. She had no desire for a sweaty man to press himself into her or grope her or worse, get her with child. The very idea made bile rise in her throat.

The walk was long. Her feet grew tired. She helped a young boy up when he tripped. She lifted him and the duck he held on the cow to ride the rest of the way. Just hours ago he had been playing and she had just finished bathing, only just pulled on her once clean shift over her freshly washed body. Just hours ago she had been carefree.

Meara looked around her at sensed the utter defeat that hung over them like a cloud.

 

[PennySaver]

The procession moved into the forest and continued onward for nearly 12 miles through often dense undergrowth and a tall canopy. Daria followed at the rear, watching the sad, distraught community trudging along, not knowing their future. At one point, in a straight section of road, a woman suddenly dashed for cover, dropping the goose she'd been carrying behind her. Two of Daria's mounted riders shot into the woods behind the woman.

Daria herself had gently urged Midnight into a slow canter to get closer to the action. When she reached the middle of the train, she found the young beauty with the milking cow. She smiled to her, then to the boy. He was young and returned her smile, obviously unaware that Daria was responsible for what had just happened to his people.

"He's sweet," Daria told the woman with a polite tone. "If he has no surviving family, you may have him."

The forest on the far side of the train of hostages opened up a bit. Daria looked toward where screams of terror were now originating; one of the soldiers had the fleeing woman bent over a large, down tree, her dress pulled up and the front of his breeches opened as he was pummeling her from behind, the second soldier holding the woman's hands as he awaiting his turn.

"I would hate for that to happen to you," Daria said in that same friendly tone to the dark haired woman. "What is your name?"

She expected an answer from the woman, of course. If she didn't get it, her right side booted foot was at the perfect level to leave a nice bruise to the woman's face. Daria didn't want to mark the beauty, but if necessary, she would.

Once she got the name, Daria urged Midnight forward again, leaving the train behind. When the hostages, their passes, and their guards emerged from the forest another hour later, they found themselves arriving at the camp from which the Black Army had conducted their morning raid. There were more than a hundred animal hide and wood frame, military tents in three ever larger, concentric circles. Off to one side of that camp was a second one; another hundred or more tents here were filled with the living and working areas of the blacksmiths, leatherworkers, cooks, whores, and others who followed and thus served the Black Army during its campaign.

The people of Greendale were herded into yet another offset area, this one a stockade. It was also circular, twelve feet high, and well built of locally cut wood fastened together with metal fittings brought along for just this purpose. It had no roof, and a low spot near one edge was filled with muddy water from a recent rain that would likely soon also be filled with piss and shit from its occupants.

The menagerie of rescued animals were taken away by a dozen or so men and women who didn't waste time killing, slaughtering, and preparing them for the army's cook fires. The milk cow Meara had been leading was taken as soon as both had reached the camp's perimeter; it and several milking goats were taken to a small corral to be relieved of their protein rich product.

"Bring her to my tent," Daria commanded when she rode up to the assembled hostages. She gestured to the blue eyed beauty, and two soldiers pushed into the crowd. Before she turned to ride away, she added, "Bring the child as well."

Meara was untied from the lead rope and led roughly away; the child was thrown over a soldier's shoulder and brought along as well. In the center of the military camp was a slightly larger tent with guards at its entrance...

Meara and the child both were led inside. Daria was already there; she had already shed portions of her riding wear, revealing some of the delicious body with which many men over the years had yearned to spend time and yet very few had. Looking to her two guests, Daria gestured the guards to sit them on the couch, then told the servant girl to get them some soup and boiled meat.

"You may leave us," she told the guards, who left without hesitation. Once the servant girl had set the bowls and plates on the foot stools before the two Greendale survivors, Daria dismissed her as well. The Warrior Queen studied Meara for a moment, then asked quite bluntly, "Are you pure of body, girl...? I mean … has a man been inside you?"

 

[SandS13]

Meara fought the urge to give up. The long trudge was wearing her down. She kept looking at the boy, smiling to help keep his spirits up.

The sound of horse hooves caused her to turn her head and the woman was there. Meara looked up at her but then quickly looked away. She did not wish to raise the woman's attention to her or worse, her wrath.

Meara frowned, just a little and once more looked at the woman. She wanted to say that the warrior didn't get to decide such things but Meara knew that their very lives were in this woman's hands.

The sounds of screams drew many people's attention. They watched in horror as a woman was ravaged. Meara paled and felt sick. She forced her gaze forward. She didn't want to see anymore.

What is your name?

"Meara." It was quiet, shaking. "I am called Meara." This time, a little stronger but still full of fear. The horse moved forward and Meara was free from the domineering woman's presence.

They continued to walk and as they filed into the camp of the Black Army they were herded like cattle away from the main camp. Meara's eyes fell on the stockade. She could only imagine the press of bodies as they were forced in there, exposed to the elements. She lifted the boy from the cow as the animal was taken away.

Meara's eyes went wide as the blonde commanded her to be taken to her tent. She did not know why she was being singled out but she was not convinced it was a good thing. The hand on her arm was tight and she cried out in pain. The boy squealed a little, kicking at the guard as he was carried.

"Hush now."

Meara's faced turned bright red at the sight of the woman when they entered the tent. For all her hard exterior she was beautiful. In truth, Meara didn't think she had ever seen a woman as beautiful as this one. She was strong, but had soft curves. Her back was straight, her demeanour confident and frightening in some ways. Meara's mouth was dry and she forced herself to look away. She was led to a couch, forced to sit and the boy was put beside her. Meara reached out to settle him. She realized he could not be more than five.

Food was put before them. He went to reach for it but Meara held him back. Her eyes were on the warrior before her.

"I-" She flushed red. "Yes..I mean no...no man has been inside me. I am pure." Embarrassment flooded her features.

 

[PennySaver]

"Eat," Daria told the boy after Meara stopped him from reaching for the plate. When he looked to her again, she raised an eyebrow to the newly enslaved village girl, then looked back to the boy and said, "Eat. It's okay."

She moved forward, took a slice of soft boiled mutton from the metal plate, and offered it out to him. He hesitated, but he took and began to chew on it after Daria flashed him a sweet smile and told him again, "Eat. It's okay, boy. What is your name? My name is Queen Daria … but … you can call me Mistress."

She gave Meara a look that was meant to imply that she, too, should refer to her captor as Mistress as well. When Daria asked about her sexual status, Meara answered, "I-" She flushed red. "Yes..I mean no...no man has been inside me. I am pure."

The young thing on the couch blushed a fiery red. Daria smiled wider, then chuckled. She said with an sympathetic tone, "It's okay, Meara. We are both women. We can talk about such things with each other."

She lifted another piece of the old lamb for the other woman. If Meara didn't take it, Daria would eat herself while studying the girl. She crossed the room, circling around the fire pit in which a gigantic pot of water was being heated. Near a wooden table, Daria lifted a large, ceramic pitcher from the animal hide floor and poured two metal cups full of wine. Returning to Meara and the boy, she offered out one of the cups. She didn't give Meara a choice this time, though, instead thrusting it out and commanding her, "Drink. It will help settle you."

Daria studied the two of them for a long moment, smiling at the boy who had now slid to his knees before the foot stool and was eagerly devouring the food on the plate. She turned and circled the fire on the opposite side this time, drinking down the rest of her wine before setting the cup upon another, lower table. She laid back into bed consisting of a large, down filled mattress and several pillows stuffed in the same manner. Snuggling herself into it, Daria lifted a leg to cross one knee over the other.

"Come, Meara," she said. It was spoken politely, but there was no doubt that it was a command, Mistress to slave. "Help me out of my boots."

 

[SandS13]

Meara was watching the woman closely. She could feel her heart in her throat as she told them to call her mistress. The boy was now happily eating.

Her blush deepened as Daria told her they could talk of such things. Meara didn't think anyone was supposed to talk of such things out loud. Her mother had been very strict in this regard. One did not discuss the things men and women did alone in their beds. She wasn't naive to think it didn't happen in the barn or in the woods but it didn't mean one spoke of it.

A trembling hand started to take the offered meat but then withdrew. Meara realized that in her state of panic if she put anything in her stomach the food might come back up. She watched as Daria ate it. Her eyes fell on her lips, the way her tongue moved to lick the juices away.

She tore her eyes away, casting them down. Beside her the boy was chewing noisily.

Meara took the cup. She didn't dare disobey her. She took a drink and almost coughed but managed to contain it. Again her eyes followed the woman. She moved like a cat, Meara thought.

She got to her feet, practically jumping at the sound of her name. Meara kept her eyes down as she reached to pull off Daria's left boot. She swallowed and crawled onto the bed a little to reach her right boot. That too she slowly pulled off.

Her eyes met Daria's. "Please don't hurt us. I can cook and clean."

 

[PennySaver]

Daria chuckled softly at the girl's meekly spoken request. "I'm not going to hurt you, Meara … you or the boy. I like you, and you and I are going to become very good friends, I can feel it."

She offered out the other foot, waggling it to have that boot removed as well. Once it was off and set aside, Daria moved to stand. Meara appeared as if ready to stand, too, but the Queen set a hand upon the girl's head and told her, "Stay as you are."

Once she was at height, Daria's groin was directly and only inches before the other woman's face. Her leather pants were the finest available in the land, made of the skin of young calves raised singularly on deep straw in padded pens to prevent their hides from being scarred in anyway. The pants fit the warrior like a second skin, particularly around her firm buttocks, her muscular legs, and her … well, yes, and there as well, as Meara would notice if her gaze were to fall there for even an instant.

Daria unhooked the belt at her waist, then the clasps on her upper thighs which were there to secure her outer riding garments and -- if she was wearing them, which she didn't always -- her leather, chain mail, and even her plate armor.

"Help me with these, Meara," Daria said, indicating the clasps farther down her legs, clear to her ankles. As the other woman did as she was told, making it possible to later removed the leather pants, Daria began unfastening the shoulder and arm guards, dropping them aside at the edge of the bed. By the time Meara was down loosening the clasps of her pants, the only thing Daria was wearing above her waist was her linen-lined, metal studded, mold-fashioned brassiere … and with the flip of a latch in the middle of her bosom, that fell open and away as well. Indicating her skin tight pants, Daria politely ordered Meara, "Help me out of these. I think this must be the most difficult part of simply having a bath, don't you think, Meara?"

 

[SandS13]

Meara was genuinely relieved when Dariansais she would not hurt them. She didn’t understand how a woman like her, warrior and queen would even consider Meara a possible friend but she didn’t dwell on that too long.

She stayed on the bed as told. She dared not lift her eyes. Meara found herself staring directly at Daria thighs. No...not her thighs but the mound between them. The leather hugged her perfectly. At this distance Meara could see every curve and line. She surprised herself as she found herself wanting to run one hand along the soft leather clad thigh. Meara’s emotions were at war with themselves but there was no time to dwell. Daria was undoing the belt and clasps at the thighs Meara had been staring at.

She looked up. “The boy?” It was soft, questioning. Daria called for a servant and the boy and his food were taken out.

Meara looked up before nodding. She knelt down, one hand bracing on a shapely thigh. Her head was close, brushing against Daria’s leg as she worked the clasps open. The queen smelt of horses, leather and blood. It was a strange mix that oddly suited her. Down one leg Meara’s hands moved along leathered skin and undid the clasps.

She heard the guards drop to the floor. Meara paused looking up as Daria’s breasts were freed. Meara inhaled sharply. She openly stared for a moment. They were perfectly round and like the rest of this woman. Beautiful. Meara thought about her own body, pale with odd freckles. She was sure Daria was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

The clasps were done but Meara remained kneeling.

“I wouldn’t know mistress.” Meara stood. She licked her lips and held her breath. She had never touched someone to help them dress. Well babies but this was no where near the same. Her hands trembled a little as she reached for the waist of the leather breeches. Her fingers slipped inside. Meara was shocked at how soft Daria’s skin was. She began to slowly and ever so carefully pull them down. Over strong hips, down her thigh. Meara moved to do one and then the other. She caressed the firm muscle with her hands, freeing them from their leather confines. She eased them down kneeling as she did. Her face was below her linen clad mound. Meara resumed removing the leather, gently lifting each of Daria’s feet to take the garment away completely.

She frowned, her face contorting. The socks, wool and warm smelt as if she had been wearing them for days and had not washed them or her feet. Her nose wrinkled and she reached to remove them as well. Meara sneezed as she laid them aside. It was a marvel that anyone this beautiful could have socks that smelled that horrendous.

Meara looked up at Daria from her place on the floor, kneeling partially between her legs. The queens stood in nothing but a linen undergarment. Meara sucked in her lower lip and began to pull them down as well.

Her eyes fell on the woman’s sex. She could see every detail, the slit and slightly puffy lips. There was no hair, it was impossibly smooth and Meara wanted to touch her out of curiosity. Her eyes widened and she resumed her task. The linen was gone and Daria was naked. Meara sat back on her legs and admired her. Her eyes were drawn to the colour that covered the inside of Daria’s thighs. Tattoos, shields of some kind and red marks through most. Meara knew nothing of politics, courts or kingdoms but she did know that they were beautiful.

She reached out and tentatively brushed one with her fingertip. She had never seen anything like them before.

 

[PennySaver]

As the younger woman stripped away one item after another from her lower half, Daria watched her with an intent stare. She knew this had to be uncomfortable for the girl: this morning she'd been just a simple village girl, maybe milking goats or churning butter or digging turnips; now, though, she was a slave, helping her Mistress strip to the skin in preparation for a bath and worrying that at any moment something she said or did might result in her getting a whistling arrow in the back or, more simply here in the tent, a razor sharp blade across the throat or deep into the heart.

Daria couldn't help but notice how the girl's gaze settled on each new feature of her wonderfully sculpted body as it was revealed. Okay, so, the reaction when the wool socks were removed wasn't one of pure awe, but the look in Meara's eyes when the linen undergarment came down to reveal her womanhood was as close as such an expression got.

When Meara urged her to lift her second foot to rid the linen from her, Daria set that foot down a bit wider than it had been. With the slave girl on her knees and her haunches on her calves, Meara's face was directly before the now well displayed fold's of her Mistress's sex.

"Have you ever seen a woman shaved?" Daria asked. She knew the odds of this were small, unless Meara had been the personal servant to one of the Noble women to whom her village was subject. Also believing the answer would be no, she asked, "Have you ever shaved a woman?"

Most sexually active women from the Royalty and Nobility -- or from the brothels that served them -- shaved the hair from every inch of their bodies other than their heads and eye brows, and even the latter of those were often trimmed to some degree. The poor only rarely did so, mostly for two reasons: the first was that the razors necessary to perform the work without causing potentially dangerous nicks were very expensive to buy and maintain; and second, a poor woman found to have legs and crotch free of hair was understandably though often incorrectly believed to supplement her family's income by spreading those legs and allowing access to that pussy to strangers.

Daria noticed that the girl's gaze had shifted to the tattoos on the insides of both thighs. She turned her toes out a bit, further exposing the insides of her thighs … and, incidentally, her womanhood. She told Meara, "You can touch one … it's okay."

The tattoos -- each about the width of the fat part of Daria's index finger and a little bit taller than that -- were tiny representations of the coats of arms of many of the most powerful Houses in the region south of her own realm. They weren't as intricate as the actual official Family Crests -- the tiny intricacies had to be ignored -- but at the same time they were just as colorful. And because Daria was allergic to the purple, blue, and red inks -- present in nearly every one of the tattoos -- her skin had permanently swollen slightly wherever those colors were used, giving them a sort of three dimensional feel.

"That is the House of Treyvin," Daria said when Meara's hesitant fingertip pressed against the red tattoo with a dark green tree over a yellow diagonal stripe. "Do you know it...? No...? I'm not surprised. It's far to the west of here."

She reached down to take the slave girl's hand, moved it to her other thigh, and directed the extended fingertip to a purple and gold crest that -- like some of the others -- had a bright red diagonal line crossing through it from beyond one side to the other.

"That was the House of Goran," Daria said with a slight tone of joy in her voice. Compared to the other tattoos that had the slash through it, this red stripe seemed to have been inked long ago. She explained, "It was the first County my Black Army crushed … 11 years ago."

Daria released her hold on the girl's hand and stepped around her. She gestured toward the cast iron tub; it was half filled with stream water that had been warming a bit due to its proximity to the centrally positioned fire. She pointed out the pitcher with a handle for transferring steaming hot water from the fire kettle to the tub.

"Do not burn yourself, Meara," Daria warned. "A beautiful girl like yourself, scarred by a burn … such a shame."

She circled around the fire again to the tent's flap door. She opened it sufficiently for one of the guards there to get an unobstructed viewing of her naked body … a viewing that lasted only an instant as the man very dutifully and very quickly dropped his gaze to the ground before him.

"I am not to be disturbed for anything other than Lord Kriggen's return," she said, adding, "And if he does arrive while I am bathing, he is to make his report from outside. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," the guard responded with a firm voice.

She asked him, "Whose cock do I slice off if I am interrupted during my bath, soldier?"

"My cock, Mistress," he answered without hesitation.

Daria released the flap, letting it fall into place. She contemplated her most senior Commander's current mission as she watched Meara performing her task. Kriggen had been charged with finding an unguarded pass through the West Ridge Mountains that would eliminate the need for a major, face-to-face battle with the Lord of Daria's next target. He and his six scouting parties had been riding up and down the poorly explored West Ridge for nearly a month now and had found nothing but impassable cliffs or troop guarded passes.

She turned her attention to Meara as the slave carefully dumped steaming hot water into the pot of cold. When she thought it might be the right temperature, Daria tested it. She instructed for one more pitcher to be added, tested again, and then pointed Meara to the little bottles on a nearby table; one contained liquid soap, another scented oil, and a third a moisturizer. Daria guided the girl on how much to pour into the water.

Slipping slowly into the tub and letting her naked body adjust to the hot temperature. When the water level was nearly to the lower curvatures of her firm breasts, Daria pointed Meara to a soft cotton bath rag and told her, "You may bathe me now."

 

[SandS13]

Meara shook her head. She didn't know how to explain to this woman that she didn't know women shaved, had never seen another woman like this, had certainly never touched a woman and had never touched herself except to wash herself. It was a marvel to her, the open display of her body like this. Meara wondered if it was woman like Daria that inspired the tales of goddesses and their beauty or if she was somehow a descendant of them.

A fingertip traced over the tattoo. Hard muscle, soft skin but some areas were raised. Meara frowned not understanding how or why but finding the texture quite intriguing. It was easy to forget that she was touching a naked woman, her head inches from the woman's bare sex. It was easy to get lost in the colours. Daria's hand took hers and Meara breathed out, hot breath on Daria's thigh. She had not even realized she was holding her breath. Her hand was placed on another tattoo, high up on the muscle.

It slowly dawned on Meara what the red slashes meant. Daria and her army had conquered them, all these kingdoms. She inhaled sharply as her eyes moved over the tattoos once more, seeing them in a new light.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Daria walked away. Meara scrambled to her feet. This woman and her army were to be feared. Meara didn't know why she was chosen for this task, handmaiden in a way but she was going to do her best to stay on Daria's good side. She listened intently, memorizing what Daria was saying about the bath, how she liked her water. She worked, filling the pot. She was careful not to burn herself, remaining solely focused on the task.

She smiled, pleased that Daria had only needed a little more hot water but seemed happy with her job. She watched the blonde beauty sink into the hot bath. Meara wondered just how nice that would feel.

Once more she focused on exactly what Daria was telling her. The water was scented, the cloth soaped up. Meara hesitated. She had never washed anyone but herself. Her teeth worried her lip. She started with her arm. First her right. Gentle circles as she moved the cloth over Daria's skin. Then, Meara moved around the basin and repeated the action with the left arm. Then her shoulders and upper back. Meara moved to the side and washed Daria's neck and collar bones. She paused. At this point everything was slightly harder to reach unless Daria moved closer to the edge and it was also far more intimate. Meara was sure that Daria would not approve of her touching her like that.

She added a little more soap to the cloth. "Should-should I continue?" She was clearly unsure of what to do next. "I have never bathed anyone, save a baby mistress."

 

[PennySaver]

The feel of the soft, soapy cloth against Daria's skin was delightful; despite never having washed another woman's body, Meara was doing a surprisingly good job at it. She was gentle and moved slowly, allowing the hot bath water to spend more time upon the Warrior Queen's body.

When it became obvious that continuing would require Daria to either sit up, possibly on her knees, or fully stand … or require the slave girl to stand and lean uncomfortably over the tub, Daria told her in a soft voice, "Remove you clothes, Meara, and join me. It's the best way."

 

[SandS13]

Meara's whole body turned red. "Join you?"

She frowned but feared what would happen if she did not do as Daria asked. She laid the cloth on the edge of the tub, water dripping to the floor and turned her back to Daria. She reached down and slowly pulled the shift over her head. Her backside was heart shaped, connected to a narrow waist. Meara thought herself small, plain and not womanly at all.

She turned, covering her breasts. Her pubic hair was curly like the hair on her head. She couldn't cover her breast and her mound so she choose her breasts thinking her hair covered her from Daria's view.

Meekly, Meara approached the tub and picked up the cloth. She slowly stepped in and knelt before Daria. The water was warm, warmer than any Meara had been able to bathe in. Her family didn't have a tub or basin. They had simply used a bucket.

She sucked in her lower lip and reached out to run the cloth over Daria's breasts. Her eyes went a wide as she caressed the mounds with the soapy cloth.

"Is this alright mistress?"

 

[PennySaver]

"There is no need to fear touching me, Meara," Daria said. She waited to see if the girl would become less meek about her duty, but when Meara didn't, Daria reached out and took the slave's hand. She manipulated the other woman's hand so that instead of clutching the rag in a tightly closed fist, the rag was instead spread across Meara's splayed fingers and palm. Daria moved the girl's hand with the rag back to her bosom; if it wasn't for the wash clothes, Meara would essentially be groping one of her Mistress's firm, bulbous tits. "Like this."

Daria maneuvered the girl's hand slowly about one breast, then over her sternum, then over the other boob; all the while, Daria stared into the girl's eyes for her reaction to something Daria knew was discomforting for her. But … was Meara privately enjoying it? Daria doubted it; the girl's face was filled with anxiety.

"You need to sit … need to..." Daria began but didn't finish. She moved her legs, parting them outward until her knees were against the metal walls of the tub. Taking hold of Meara's other arm, Daria pulled her up between her thighs so closely that when Daria relaxed her own legs back down into the water, the backs of her thighs were laying atop Meara's bent knees. She told the girl, "There … now you can reach all of me."

Daria leaned back into the tub, her head resting on a pad draped over the metal edge. She closed her eyes, telling Meara, "You may finish. And … don't forget to clean my slit … but … with a fresh rag, not the soapy one."

 

[SandS13]

Meara was unsure what to do but Daria made it very clear what she wanted. Meara's eyes followed the movement of her hand, guided by Daria over the woman's breasts. They moved, shifted in a hypnotic way.

Her blue eyes went wide as Daria moved her. "Yes mistress." Her mouth was dry. She washed her, everywhere except her most intimate area. Meara even went over Daria's breasts once more. She wanted to show her that she could learn and do as was required of her.

Every part of her new mistress was soaped and Meara's movements got more confident as she went. Finally, she stood. She got out of the tub and added fresh hot water to the tub. She had worried that Daria might get cold and Meara wanted the queen to know she was attentive. She picked up a new cloth and moved back into the tub.

Meara inhaled, slid the cloth into the water and moved towards Daria's sex. She was gentle but found the cloth kept trying to float from her hand. Meara was concentrating, her eyes on the water. Her other hand now moved. Her left hand slid along Daria's slit as Meara sought her way by feel. Her fingers very gently parted the lips of Daria's sex as her right brought the cloth in to clean her.

Wide, innocent eyes looked at Daria. She was trying to see if this was what her mistress wanted, if she was doing a good job or if she had directions of what else to she wanted her new servant to do.

 

[PennySaver]

Daria's head remained back her eyes closed, as the slave girl caressed the soapy rag over her body. Occasionally, when Meara's touch was particularly nice -- over her sensitive nipples, for example -- Daria let out an almost purr-like moan, sometimes even telling her how good it felt. After a while, the bath was no longer about hygiene and was simply about pleasure.

"More hot water," Daria whispered at one point when a chill ran up her back. "Two pitchers."

She opened her eyes to get her second look at Meara as she rose from the tub. The village girl showed some of the signs of being just that, a girl from a village. Her skin was dry in some places; in others, such as on her hands, forearms, and elbows, she showed the wear of a woman who worked hard. There was signs of a recent cut that Daria thought might have been incurred during the destruction of her village or may have simply been caused by a rowdy goat scraping her with a horn.

But beyond these flaws -- none of which were permanent or couldn't be corrected with some loving care -- Meara was an incredibly beautiful young woman. She was shorter than Daria by three inches and lighter because of it; she didn't have the dramatic hour glass figure that Daria enjoyed -- or that men enjoyed -- but she was still narrow through the hips with young firm breasts that seemed to entirely ignore gravity.

Meara would fetch a pretty amount of coin at the slave auction set for six days from now, prearranged in anticipation of the conquest of her village of Greendale. Of course, that was only if Daria chose to sell the young beauty, rather than keep her for herself.

Daria closed her eyes and laid her head back again as Meara rejoined her in the tub. The girl put the less soapy rag to her womanhood, wiping it gently. Then, to Daria's happy surprise, Meara reached her second hand under the water and put her fingers directly upon her Mistress's sensitive labia. Daria's hips rolled a bit instinctive, trying to press into the fingers that were opening her up. The soft rag pressed against her inner labia as the girl asked if she was doing it right or causing her pain. The latter was likely to due Daria's face tensing at the unexpectedly wonderful touch.

Daria opened her eyes to look at the girl a moment. She asked her, "Do you not know of the pleasure of being touched as you are touching me now, Meara? Do you … do you not touch yourself as you are touching me?"

 

[SandS13]

Daria's hips were moving under her hand. The more the queen's face changed, the more concerned Meara became. She wanted to show Daria that she was a good servant, that she could anything and everything that she was asked to do. She was obedient, her mother had ensured that.

"N-no mistress." A frowned graced her face. "My mother would have punished me if I had ever done anything like that."

So Daria was pleased by what she was doing. That meant if she continued then she could gain her favour, even just a little. Her hand, fingers that had gently spread her mistress open pressed a little firmer to adjust for the way Daria was moving her hips. Meara's tongue stuck out, just a little as she concentrated on moving the cloth in unison with Daria's movements.

 

[PennySaver]

Daria smiled at the girl's admission that she's never touched her womanhood for the purpose of pleasuring herself. So young, so naïve, so pure, she thought to herself. She grasped the upper edges of the tub and lifted herself a bit higher, then told Meara, "Lay back … lay back against the tub."

The metal was small, so small that it was impossible for two people to occupy it without a great deal of contacting flesh, mainly legs. Daria stood entirely out of the water, then reached down into it to assist the girl in pulling her legs out from under her buttocks. Urging her back, Daria moved the pillow mat from her end of the tub to Meara's, adjusting it for the slightly shorter woman's height or lack thereof.

She lowered herself back into the tub and manipulated Meara's legs such that Daria was now on her knees, buttocks on her calves and ankles, and Meara was leaning back with her knees parted and her thighs atop her Mistresses. She scooted in very close to the girl, further causing Meara's knees to part and rise.

"Relax, girl," Daria said in a soft voice. She could see the anxiety and strain in the young thing's face and there even seemed to be an on again, off again tremble in her body. "Relax … you are safe here with me. No harm will come to you."

She gave Meara a moment to try to calm herself, then reached her hands down below the surface of the soapy water. She found the insides of the girl's thighs and caressed them gently for a long moment before slowly tracing her fingers and palms up Meara's legs to her hips, to her belly, to her rib cage … and finally to her breasts. She ever so gently cupped them, then gave them a soft squeeze; her thumbs toyed with the now hardened nipples and traced circles around them.

"Do you enjoy this, Meara?" Daria asked barely above a whisper. "Does this please you?"

She gave the slave girl a moment to respond if she wished, then reversed her hands' trek; breasts, ribs, belly, waist, hips, thighs. This time, though, when Daria's hands caressed the girl, her finger slowly but surely moved inward toward her most intimate of areas. Then watching Meara intently, Daria slipped her fingers in between the younger woman's outer labia, found her clitoris, and began gently working it in little circles … faster and harder with every passing moment.

 

[SandS13]

Meara moves as her mistress directed, confused as to what was happening. She laid back, her hair becoming wet and floating about her shoulders. She was tense, nervous and honestly fearful. Did she mean to drown her? Had Meara done something wrong?

Daria’s words were soothing and Meara slowly relaxed. She gasped as Daria’s hands touched her thighs. Her blue eyes were wide and the strong hands moved upward on her body. She whimpered quietly as Daria cupped her breasts. Hers were no where near as beautiful as Daria’s. She squeaked at the feeling of her thumbs teasing her now hard nipples.

Meara felt strange. Having someone touch her like this, so intimately. She has always been told that only her husband would touch her and that she may or may not enjoy but it did not matter as long as she produced sons. Now though, Daria was touching her. And despite her fear Meara likes the feeling of her hands on her body.

“It feels...good...” her voice sounded almost fearful.

Daria’s hands began to move down. Meara expected her to end up back on her thighs as she had started. Instead she felt her fingers part the lips of her sex and Meara gasped. Then it was as if Daria had burned her but not...her hips moved on their own, surging up as Datia touched some spot, some tender and sensitive part of her.

She began to pant. She mewled and the noise frightened her.

“Mistress...mistress...” she was half begging now unsure what was happening but sure that what Daria was doing was going to make her body come undone.

 

[PennySaver]

“It feels...good...” Meara moaned, experiencing sexual pleasure for the first time.

"Yes ... it would," Daria agreed, knowing very well the pleasure of skilled fingers upon her own sensitive love button. When Meara began pleading, Daria reached one of her hand up to lay gently between her firm breasts, soothing her with, "Gentle, my Meara ... gentle ... relax ... relax and enjoy ... this is what women who do not have a man do for one another ... gentle, Meara."

With the hand below the water, Daria intensified her treatment of the young woman's love button, circling her finger around it, moving it left and right, up and down, harder and softer, faster and slower until finally she found just the right treatment that she knew would drive Meara to orgasm.

 

[SandS13]

Meara had no words. Daria promised her that this was women did for each other but it was not anything the innocent girl had ever experienced before. Daria's fingers played with her body and Meara found herself panting, her hips starting to move with the stroking of her clit.

She was glad Daria had her hand on her chest, it made her feel better, calmer. It also meant that Daria could feel how Meara's heart was pounding.

Something happened, Daria did something that made Meara cry out. It felt as if her body had been set alight. Her muscles tensed, her hands gripped the tub. It crashed over her as if someone dropped water suddenly over her head except it was pleasurable.

Her breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath. Her body began to relax. There was confusion in the depth of her blue eyes. Meara shuddered pleasurably as her hips stopped moving and she sank back. She hadn't realized that she had lifted up from the tub.

"Thank you mistress." It was all she could think of to say. It was as if Daria had offered her a gift.

 

[PennySaver]

Daria marveled at Meara's climax, studying the girl's expression, listening to her cries, feeling her pounding heart. Watching another woman explode in the euphoria of sexual pleasure was the next best thing to enjoying that euphoria oneself.

"Thank you mistress,"

"You need not thank me, Meara," Daria told the girl as she slipped back down into the water, sated. She looked to the slave's bosom as it rose and fell dramatically with deeply drawn and exhaled breaths. "I have only taught you that which you will do for your Mistress."

Daria rose slowly from the tub and stepped out onto the hide floor. As she dabbed a towel against her body, she told Meara, "I have decided that you will remain with me. You will not see the auctioneer's stand. Does that please you?"

Before Meara could answer, the guard outside called through the canvas door, "Mistress, Lord Kriggen's forward scout has arrived. The General will be returned soon."

"Thank you," Daria said without feeling the need to say or ask more. She turned her attention back to Meara, held the towel out before her, and informed her with a firm tone, "Time to dry, dress, and serve, girl."

 

[SandS13]

that which you will do for your Mistress.. The words rolled around in Meara's as she watched Daria stand and get out of the tub. Daria expected her to touch her and to make her feel the way Meara had but Meara didn't know how Daria had done it. She vowed to herself that she would figure it out and show the queen that she was a good servant.

Meara didn't get the chance to answer as the guard from outside called that the general was returning. She stood when Daria held the towel out. She got out and immediately began drying Daria off with the towel. The queen had only dabbed at her body with a towel so Meara began to gently rub the warrior's body down.

"Thank you mistress for not sending me to be auctioned." She lifted her eyes to Daria's face and then returned to her task.

When it was done, Meara used the damp towel to dry herself off. She donned her dirty shift and began to tidy up. The bath was emptied, the towels picked up. She moved about, staying out of Daria's way and being as quiet as possible.

The general arrived and Meara was sent away. She walked about the camp, taking it all in. She learned where they were getting the water from and where to find buckets or other things that Daria might need. She learned where to get food and that she would be expected to prepare Daria's meals. She saw the guards using the women they had captured and the men were forced to dig latrine's or see to the livestock. Those not forced to work huddled in the stockade. For two hours Meara wandered, learning all she could of the camp and the army.

When called back to the tent Meara prepared food, cleaned Daria's boots, washed her clothes and beat the mattress of the bed. She laid out the blankets and decided tomorrow she would wash them.

Outside the tent the camp was settling in for the night. Meara lit the lanterns. "Would you like to dress for bed mistress?"

 

[PennySaver]

When Meara returned to the tent, Daria was hovering over her table of updated maps. She only glanced up at the girl for a moment before returning to her strategizing. The slave girl set about doing her duties without even having to be told what to do; Daria glanced at her occasionally and realized that she'd made the right decision to keep the girl around.

After the sun dropped and Daria had no more mental capacity for the upcoming battle, she settled into a chair with a glass of wine Meara poured and simply watched the girl continue her work. After a bit, the pretty, young brunette asked, "Would you like to dress for bed mistress?"

"Take your clothes off, Meara," Daria told her with a firm tone. She crossed to a chest, opened it, and withdrew a sleeping gown that was simple in design yet probably far more elegant than anything the village girl had ever seen, let alone worn. Daria saw that Meara was still standing there clothed, indicated the dress, and said, "Strip off that rag. Tomorrow, you will rise and don this. Later in the day, I will have clothes brought to you. I will not have one of my Attendants dressed as you are."

Daria tossed the dress onto the arm of a chair and watched as Meara stripped out of her shift and dress. She directed the girl out of her simple shoes, too, and finally the slave was naked. Daria held out her arms and told Meara, "You can undress me now."

When she, too, was once again naked, Daria headed to and laid down in her bed without slipping into a sleeping shirt. She indicated that the equally naked Meara should join her. "You will keep me warmer this way. This is one of the ways you will serve your Mistress."

 

[SandS13]

Meara removed the dirty, thin shift. She folded it but held onto it, unsure of what to do next. Her shoes came off as commanded and Meara was once more naked in front of Daria. She placed her shift on the ground next to her shoes and began undressing Daria.

She watched as Daria climbed into her bed. She wondered where she was to sleep and if she could not wear her shift, what exactly she would sleep in. The answer came as Daria gestured for her to come to her bed.

Meara did but it was clear from the look on her face that she was confused.

"As you wish mistress."

Meara was pulled to Daria, her head on her breast, her arms and legs moved to drape over the warrior queen. The arms about Meara were strong and held her securely to the strong naked body.

Such soft skin... Meara couldn't help but move her cheek a little on the soft skin of Daria's breast. She felt her mistress fall asleep and Meara, though very unsure fell asleep too.

Noise in the tent drew Meara to the surface of consciousness. In the night, her arm had moved. Her hand was on Daria's thigh and she was practically wrapped about the queen. Her eyes lifted and she found herself looking at a woman preparing breakfast.

 

[PennySaver]

With a protective escort appropriate for the Queen's Attendant, Meeka had been gathering herbs, mushrooms, roots, and other edibles from the forest surrounding the encampment when her Mistress returned with the new hostages. She watched with interest, hoping that she would be provided a girl or even a boy to help her with her tasks.

When she finally returned to Daria's tent with her full basket, though, Meeka would instead find that her Mistress had taken a new slave girl to help with the most personal of tasks. Meeka even snuck up to the back of the tent at one point and peeked through a slight gap in the hide about which only she knew, finding her Queen hovering over a quivering little tramp who was enveloped in the euphoria of orgasm. She surged around to the front of the tent, unsure of just exactly what she was going to do, only to be told that Daria had given strict orders not to be disturbed.

Later, Daria did call her inside the tent, where she was told her service wouldn't be needed that night. Meeka launched into a respectful but still inappropriate defense of her service to the Queen, inappropriate because she was in fact only a slave. With her eyes down, Meeka begged, "Please, Mistress … please … please do not replace me."

"I have not replaced you, Meeka," Daria said as she walked up to the girl. Lifting Meeka's face with fingers under her chin, the Queen smiled to the young woman and said with a soft yet serious tone, "But I will … if you do not gather your things and go find another place to sleep tonight. Perhaps I could find a tent of soldiers who'd like the company of the Queen's Attendant."

Meeka understood the threat, dropped her head again, begged forgiveness, backed up a step, and gathered enough clothes and blanketing to let her sleep safely alone in the woods if it became necessary.

"Come back in the morning to cook, Meeka," Daria ordered the slave before she left.

And Meeka had. She arrived before dawn, after having slept hidden in the back of a grain wagon, to find her Mistress naked in bed with the village slit who'd been in Daria's bath the day before. When Meara awoke and met her eyes, Meeka only glared at her. The old slave -- Meeka's age was perhaps 20 Circles -- let her gaze drop to the new slave's bosom and thought Different and unknown but not better.

Beyond Meara, Daria had awoken and was watching the two of them. She'd known that this was not going to be easy for either of them: Meeka knew she was being replaced; Meara had to know now that she was the replacement.

"Come to me, Meeka," she told the girl at the fire. Daria urged Meara to move to the edge of the bed. She herself moved up higher into the pillows nearer the tent's wall, her naked body now on full display. When Meeka came to kneel on the front edge of the bed, Daria parted her thighs to fully expose her womanhood; the pink folds and the little pleasure button were more available to the new girl's viewing than they had been yet. Daria said with a knowing tone, "Teach her, Meeka."

Meeka's eyes grew at the request, whispering, "Mistress, please..."

"Teach her, Meeka," Daria said with a bit more emphasis. "Teach her … or you have no more use to me."

Meeka looked between the two women then to her own knees for a moment. Then, moving slowly in between her Mistress's thighs, Meeka put her mouth to Daria's sex and began very skillfully pleasuring the Warrior Queen.