David knew better than to struggle against his captors. The thought had crossed his mind several, if not many times, to try and fight back. Part of him argued that they were merely women, that they were no match for him. Yet the other part, the far more sensible part knew that it was futile. They had taken him this far with very little effort; an attempt to fight back now would only worsen his situation. After all, they were the palace guards, and he was bound; as good as helpless.

       So far, his entire predicament had stemmed from a stroke of bad luck. A slip up during what should have been an easy theft turned into quite a chase through the hot city streets. At some point, he looked over his shoulder to get an idea of how close his pursuers were, and in the next instant, he ran into something.

       The something turned out to be a palace guard. It didn’t take him very long to recognize the skimpy, almost non-existent leather armor that was strapped around the powerful, muscular African woman. He had seen it before, but that didn’t stop him from first gawking at the full exposed breasts of the black woman. It was unknown why the guards wore such ridiculous armor, even when they were fighting.

The African woman glared at him, hair wild and curly. He didn’t even have time to squeak out an apology before she was on him, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and turning him over. Breaking free was out of the question; within seconds, she had secured both of his arms. With his face buried in the sand, he was just able to make out a pair of legs, not deep ebony as the woman almost sitting on his back, binding his hands behind him, but a lightly tanned white, though equally strong and powerful.

       Once his arms were fastened, he was hoisted to his feet by two sets of hands, and before he was able to steal a glance at the second guard, a hood fell over his head, plunging him into blackness.

       Then they began to drag him away, through the noise of the marketplace. Sure, he’d tried to talk his way out of it, apologizing over and over, but they simply ignored him. Once or twice, he could have sworn he heard them speaking to each other softly and chuckling, but nothing came from it.

       This was all not more than 20 minutes ago, though being led blind by powerful arms made it seem much longer. The only change David could feel was the sudden lack of sunlight on him, and the coolness of indoor air. The buzz of the marketplace had vanished, replaced by soft interior noises. Sounds of what could have been music drifted in from time to time, but faded as quickly just as they became audible.

       The first time he began to fight was when he felt the guards’ hands on his body, first seeming to grope his chest and body, but then taking hold of his clothes and pulling, tearing away his outfit. When he tried to wrench away, he was rewarded with a harsh slap from something long and thin against the back of his calves. Not the worst pain he had ever felt, but unseen from beneath the hood, it was enough to squeeze out a cry of surprise.

       “Do not struggle,” a firm voice whispered in his ear. By the sound of the accent, it was the African woman. “We would hate to mark you before presenting you to the Queen.”

       The Queen? What was going on? David, in fact most of the population of Egypt, knew very little of the matriarch that ruled the country as well as numerous neighboring providences. Queen Cleopatra of the Nile was never seen by the outside, always favoring to traverse the city in a covered carriage, which happened rarely in a generation. All there were were the rumors. Some said she was a beautiful woman, others, an immortal goddess. No sightings were ever truly believed; there was only speculation. Her influence was spread through the city by her guards, all female and beautiful, but no less deadly than any other warrior. All of the laws declared by her were obeyed to the letter. David hated to think where stealing fell in that.

       Upon hearing the woman’s words, David ceased his struggling. Perhaps if he was meeting Cleopatra, there would be a chance to clear up the misunderstanding, and he would be set free. So he let himself be marched along by the two women. His clothes were almost no more, all being ripped away by the vicious force of the female guards. At least they had the decency to leave his loincloth on, though the brown garment barely provided any coverage to his privates. He could feel his balls swinging loosely in the cooler air, and he desperately hoped they weren’t visible out of shame. They’d also left his sandals on, but every once and a while, a part of his foot would brush against what felt like cold marble. Just where the hell was he, and why was he stripped to almost nude before meeting royalty?

       The walk continued for several more minutes, until he felt himself in a wide expanse. There was even a cool breeze flowing, as if there was a window or windows open nearby. Then abruptly, something kicked the back of his leg, dropping him to his knees as a stinging pain rose up his thighs, issuing another grunt of pain from him.

       “Quiet, little worm,” sneered a different woman’s voice, possibly the other guard. At this point, it was impossible to tell. “You will speak only when the Queen speaks to you, and you will show her respect.” The voice came closer, purring with anticipation, and David could imagine the side of the hood move, as if the speaker’s lips were pushed right to the side of his face. “But if you don’t, perhaps she will let us keep you instead. It has been long since I’ve seen a man with such a body as yours.”

       David was by no means a perfect person. With a street rat’s life, he had to rely on his wits to get him through the day. He could sweet talk, and with his naturally good looks, he could charm a woman a long way. Maybe it was his short brown hair and handsome face, or his slightly chiseled body from constant athletics; the woman just seemed to like him, even if he was only 19 years old and a petty thief.

       He sat and waited on his haunches, sensing the warmth of the two women beside him. He thought about speaking again, to apologize to the African woman for the whole mess when he was interrupted.

       “Summon the Queen!” snapped the African’s voice. Somewhere distant, what sounded like a gong rumbled deeply. More agonizing waiting…In his mind, David worked to formulate what he was going to say to the royal Queen when she arrived. A simple misunderstanding, that’s all. With a little luck, if she liked him, he could be free very quickly.

       A set of large doors clanked open, and David heard the patter of sandals from several feet, then the doors closed. There was the jingle of what could have been jewelry, like a great many bracelets and bangles. The jingling ceased and the guards beside him moved slightly.

       “My Queen,” both guards said unanimously, then the non-African woman continued alone. “This boy was causing trouble in one of your markets. Rather than slay him, we saw him fit to bring before you, as per your requests.”

       There was a brief pause, then David heard the most satiny, sultry voice to ever grace his ears. It was without a doubt, the sexiest thing he ever heard, and it had to be coming from the Queen.

       “I see. Do you know who he is?”

       “No, My Queen,” said the African woman, confirming David’s thoughts, “He is most likely just a homeless one.”

       David felt the velvet purr turn towards him. “What is your name?”

       He had to struggle to swallow twice before being able to answer. Just the mere presence of what he heard was almost overpowering. “D-David. My name is David.”

       “David…what were you doing that you stumbled into my guards today?”

       How could she have known? Or was it merely a guess? The tone of her voice was teasing, like foreplay before sex. No, somehow, she knew. “I…I was trying to get money for food,” he admitted, only half of the truth.

       “You were stealing.” Not a question.

       David hesitated, thinking about lying but decided against it. “Yes, I was stealing. And-and, I’m sorry about that!” he added quickly. “I hope I have not offended you…um, uh, Mistress,” he finished offhand.

       That heavenly voice chuckled, amused. “Mistress? A title of a mere whore given to royalty?”

       Christ! “Um…please, forgive me!” David stuttered. “How shall I address you?”

       Another wonderful laugh. “You shall address me as My Queen, boy.”

       “Yes My Queen, as you wish!” David said with a small sigh, relieved that he had gotten away with a simple reprimand.

       “Such a bad boy, stealing from my city…” the Queen said lightly. “The punishment for theft is death…but perhaps I am being a bit too hasty?”

       “Please, have mercy,” David sincerely begged. “I did not mean to anger you. If you wish, I can repay that which I have stolen in full.”

       “Hmm…” spoke the Queen thoughtfully, “You wish to offer me money? Or perhaps your service” There was the slightest rustling sound, the kind of sound from someone’s clothes when they leaned forward, only it should have been louder. “As a young man, have you ever searched for pleasure?”

       Pleasure? What kind of conversation was this becoming? David didn’t dare to try and take control of the conversation, lest he anger the ruler. “Pleasure?”

       “Yes. No doubt you have heard the rumors. I know of what my city speaks. My legions of slaves, my endless harem…perhaps you have even seen a glimpse of it yourself?”

       It was as if she was reading his mind. David had heard the rumors, and had decided to see for his own eyes. It was easy enough to circle the palace walls until he found a large enough crack in one. When he looked through, he saw it all: Dozens of women of many ethnicities, working in gardens and other places. All of them were beautiful, with toned, tanned bodies and full, ample breasts, completely nude. It was as if it was something taken from heaven itself.

       “Yes,” David answered truthfully. “I have seen what you speak of.”

       “Remove the bag,” the Queen said. “I wish to see his face.”

       Fingers gripped the top of the bag and yanked it off David’s head. Bright light washed over his eyes, and he had to blink before they adjusted. He was kneeling in a wide hall, made entirely of marble. One wall was simply spaced columns, revealing the city below them. As he suspected, both of the guards were just to his sides.

       But all of this was lost to him as his entire attention was drawn to the single point at the end of the hall. It was the Queen, sitting in an elegant throne of gold. The minute he set his eyes upon her, he could swear that all of the rumors were true.

       She was a goddess.

       Everything was in perfect, seductive proportions. Her entire skin seemed to glow bronze, and toned, feminine muscles curved every inch of her from her arms to her long, supple legs. She had shoulder length hair, midnight black, shimmering like rain. Her full, glossy lips stayed in an omnipresent pucker as she smiled at him with dark eyes rimmed with mascara.

If David had thought the guard’s outfits were ridiculous, nothing could describe the Queen’s attire. It appeared to be made of one piece of clothing, though it was impossible to tell. The largest piece noticeable was the thong bottom, and even that was so small, David swore he saw the curve of her privates through it. The rest of the skimpy strands of brilliant gold fabric only curved around her, accenting every curve of her bodice, especially the feature that attracted his attention the most.

       The Queen possessed the most ample breasts David had ever thought existed. Much larger than even the largest ripe melons, they possessed a silky glow, matched only by the glimmering fabric that ran beneath the enormous mounds, supporting what had to be a great weight. Her nipples had to be the width of a finger, and her areola’s were far bigger than the countries largest coin, which was considerable to say the least. Above them, splayed across her breast bone were rings upon rings of gold, studded with gems and other precious stones.

       David felt his pulse rise, the beginning of sexual arousal. Everything around him was once again forgotten as he stared deep into her chest. Such perfect, large breasts were something he could only dream about. Yet there they were, slowly rising and falling with her breath. He felt overcome with a host of desires: he wanted to touch them, to knead the soft flesh of them, to lick the nipples with his tongue…anything, he had to feel those breasts!

       The Queen’s smile broadened as she waved her hand mystically over her magnificent assets. “Draw your eyes here, boy. Do not be shy…”

       David could only obey her words, locking his eyes on them. He almost missed what she said next.

       “Perhaps this could be resolved with a little wager…a game, if you will.”

       “A game…” he moaned, eyes frozen to her chest. “Yes, a game…”

       Part of him was not without reason. He wanted to look away from the gorgeous woman and her body, but the raw sexual side of his mind didn’t want to. The Queen had made it clear that he was gambling for his freedom, and David was not one to gamble. But some desire deep inside of him wanted to please the woman. If he refused, she would be unhappy, and he didn’t want that.

       Through some unseen command, a door opened, and another man walked in, completely nude. He approached the Queen’s throne, head bowed. Without even taking her eyes off David, she spoke.

       “Pleasure yourself, slave.”

       Immediately, the man began to stroke his shaft, and before long, his cock had grown erect to an impressive size. He didn’t question or act as if he enjoyed the order vocally or outwardly, he obviously did. The head of his cock bounced up and down slightly, coming within inches of the tantalizing flesh that was the Queen’s bosom.

       “I hold all of my slaves in high standards,” the Queen said as her slave continued to masturbate. “Women must be blessed with proud figures and full breasts, men must be endowed with strong, wide cocks.” She looked at the bobbing head as the slave worked it furiously. “All of my male slaves must offer their seed to their Queen. They must be generous, and never give less than what is expected.” She turned to David once again, who could only watch the scene from his knees. “One slave must provide enough to bathe at least one breast. To not do so is an insult fit for punishment. So here is the game we will play: you will come, and if it is satisfactory, you shall be released. Fail, however, and you will become my personal slave.”

       It was insane. No amount of come could cover half of what she requested! Beside the Queen, the slave grunted quietly, and she turned to the now throbbing cock in his hands. “Come, slave.”

       With another grunt and a rock of his hips, the slave ejaculated, pumping load after load onto the creamy flesh of the Queen’s breasts. The white current didn’t seem to halt until the last second, when the gooey liquid began to seep down, over the sides and into the ravine of her cleavage. Then, it dripped over the front, down the areola and nipple, clinging to her flesh as it rounded the curves, as if it didn’t want to let go of the heavenly skin.

       David could only stare in disbelief as the Queen’s right breast was now nearly entirely white with come. Impossible! And now, she expected-

       “Your turn,” she purred lightly as she got up from her throne in one fluid motion.

       David could only sputter as the guards hauled him to his feet. Unbeknownst to him, his loincloth was suspended from his cock as he pitched a tent with a rock hard erection the moment he laid eyes on her. With a swift tear, the African guard ripped the flimsy cloth away, revealing his hard on. He wasn’t the most endowed man alive, but he did possess a good 8 inches when fully hard

       The blonde guard gripped his shaft in her warm hand and began to pump it with long, brisk strokes. David had to suppress a gasp of pleasure. He had never received something like this from an obviously skilled woman. There was no tease in her touch, no sensuality. Instead, there was just raw power, forcing his body to begin to clench and get ready to shoot faster than he thought. The blonde’s hand became a blur, pumping faster and faster just as the Queen reached them, then gracefully fell to one knee before him.

       In a better, more coherent state of mind, David would have felt odd at this apparent show of submission. But he realized what was happening. The goddess before him had him soundly in her clutches, and his climax was going to provide the answer to her test.

       The blonde continued her strokes, the thin flesh of his shaft turning hot with friction. With every stroke up, his head flexed, while every stroke down sent a firm pat to his balls, swinging them back and forth wildly. It was a rough act of pleasure, but David found it even more erotic.

       He felt it build inside of him, that tingle in his jingling balls, that flexing under the blonde’s strokes. His breathing increased, his eyes closed. Should he let the Queen know that he was going to burst? He wanted to say something, anything, but one look at the hypnotic beauty below him was enough to silence him. He was going to come, he was going…to…

       “Unh!” he grunted as the blonde guard pointed his cock in the direction of the Queen’s left breast, which hovered below his cock like a pillow. His load shot from his head, then ended quickly, far too quickly. The pitiful load was enough to seep down the side in a small river, but nothing more than a few drops squeezed out after it.

       The Queen tisked over his panting, then rose and swirled her index finger through his mess, bringing some to her lips before flicking her tongue out, tasting it. “Far too weak to satisfy me…but sweet nonetheless. Take him to the dungeon and give him to the rope mistress,” she ordered her guards before turning to walk away, semen still shimmering on her bust. “I shall be there in two hours time.”

       David wanted to protest to her sudden judgment, but felt himself spent after the rigorous handjob. Despite coming, he still felt horny. The back side of Cleopatra was just as intoxicating as her front. The way her hips wagged seemed to call to him. ‘Goodbye for now,’ they said, ‘but we’ll have more fun later’. All he could do was let the two giggling guards drag him and his still dripping cock away.

       

       David had regained some of his thoughts by the time his two guards brought him to the dungeon. By now, he realized he was within Queen Cleopatra’s palace, which nearly dwarfed the city it resided in. In itself, it was a city, and by the time they arrived several levels down, he had no idea how deep within the structure he was.

       The dungeon entrance was a set of thick wooden doors, which pulled open on iron rings. Unlike the rest of the palace he had seen so far, all marble, shining and glorious, the dungeon halls were dank, unpolished stone lit with torch light. The African walking in front, the blond led him from behind, a firm grip on the rope that bound his wrists together. It seemed that the dungeon was constructed in three levels.

       The first level, David noticed as they crossed, seemed like it was very low security for a place of discipline and pain. In small rooms, most of which had wide open doors, he caught glimpses of what was happening. A women tied to a post was receiving lashes from another woman, the whip cracks flowing out the door to mingle with other ones. In another, a woman sat in some sort of chair, fastened with metal as a woman fastened clamps to her nipples after arousing them with ice.

       The women administering the punishment were dressed similarly: black thongs with matching sandals, nude elsewhere. David guessed that they were perhaps mistress’ employed by Cleopatra. After all, how could a single woman discipline so many at once?

       Inside another cell, a mistress knelt before a bound man, stroking a vibrator up and down his shaft. The slave was muzzled with an enormous red ball strapped in his mouth. The look on his face showed that he was fighting to achieve orgasm, but the mistress was teasing him, always pulling it away at the last second.

       At the end of the level, he was escorted down another flight of stairs. There was more of the same, though something seemed different. Then David noticed it: there were more restraints, and less of the trusting atmosphere. Men and women cried out in pain loudly, as opposed to the soft grunts and whimpers from the level above. The methods of torture were more severe, more harsh.

       The third, deepest level confirmed his theory: the severity of the discipline was increasing. The third level housed the most pain and humiliation of the three. Men and women were being whipped by two mistress’ at the same time. The orgasm denial played in with sensitive pinches and breath play as both sexes were smothered with items and flesh. A woman in one cell sobbed uncontrollably as her ass was paddled again and again by a strong woman with a wooden paddle.

       In one cell, David saw a most interesting form of torture. A woman was bound to her knees, head encased in some sort of clear cone. Her mouth was pried open with the metal tendrils of a dental gag, leaving her mouth gaping wide amidst her sobs. All around her, men were masturbating quickly, shooting loads onto her face. It had been going on for quite some time it seemed, as the cone around her head was full of white sperm up to her chin. The soaking woman did her best to plead frantically, but her cries were dampened when another hot shower dumped into her mouth, causing her to choke and sputter.

       His two guards dragged him to the cell at the end of the row. Inside, waiting for them was a woman who had to be the rope mistress. Like the others, she wore the simple black thong. She was Asian, with sleek eyes, jet black hair in a tight bun, and a short height. Her breasts, though very small and flat, had perky nipples, evident from her recent toying with them as they entered.

       “So, you must be the Queen’s new interest,” she said with a thick Eastern accent as David was brought before her. One entire wall behind her was simply made of rope, covered from floor to ceiling with bundles of varying length and material. Obvious to see why they called her the rope mistress.

       “You seem to have improved on your ropework, Sasha,” the mistress said to the African guard with a playfully raised eyebrow. “I hope you learned a few things from our little games.” The two shared a laugh as they traded the man between them. For a small Asian woman, the rope mistress was surprisingly strong.

       The blond held David in place while the rope mistress began to subdue him. Taking long brown cords from the racks, she first tied him at the elbows, cinching his arms painfully together. More rope was tied to his elbows, then was tossed through a hook in the ceiling and pulled taut; forcing him to bend slightly forward to avoid further discomfort, though the position was hardly comfortable to begin with. David voiced his agony in the form of a grunt, but only received a laugh from the mistress.

       “Such a handsome, well built boy like you can’t even take a single bundle of rope?” she laughed. “Oh, I’ll be sure to have a little fun with you before the Queen comes.”

       Separate ropes were coiled around each of his ankles and then tied to rings on the floor. The rings were set far apart on the floor, forcing him to spread his legs wider and making his already sore arms even sorer as he was made to pull on them.

       “Muzzle him Sasha, and you may go then,” the mistress spoke suddenly. Muzzle?

       The African guard pulled something from her belt. It was a ball gag, covered with leather straps. David suddenly knew exactly where it was going to go.

       “Wait, just wait!” he said quickly as she moved around him, holding the gag carefully in her hand. “Just let me talk to you about this. I can -ungh!”

       His protests were cut short when the guard grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his head back, much to the displeasure of his shoulders. In the brief instant he grunted, she began to cram the rubber ball into his mouth. It was a lot bigger than it first looked, and it took a few presses before it popped in behind his teeth after a painful strain from his jaw. The rest of what he said was now tangled into an incoherent mess of muffled sounds.

       The African took hold of the first set of straps and buckled them tightly behind his head, the smooth leather digging uncomfortably into the corner of his lips. Once fastened, she secured the next set of straps that rose across his face and over his head. The final strap buckled underneath his chin, ensuring that his jaw tightly clenched the rubber intrusion firmly.

       Try as he might, David could barely move his tongue, let alone make any coherent noises. From his current position, he could turn slightly at his hips, but not before causing extreme pain in his shoulders. Moving up and down at the waist was out of the question, and he couldn’t even move his feet to alleviate the strain.

       The two guards left, their hands coiled around each others hips, shutting the door behind them. It was just the mistress and David, caught in her web of fabric. A large smile broke out across her lips, then she turned and picked another coil of rope from the wall. It was a small bundle of leather thread. David could only wonder how much more she could restrain him.

       She surprised him when she crouched low beneath his bent frame. He couldn’t really see what she was doing, but then he felt her fingers on his already semi-erect cock. Even after the blond guard’s handjob, it didn’t take much to blossom into a full blown hard on. He let out a low moan through the gag and the mistress giggled.

       He felt her hands disappear, then the leather touched his sac. He looked down awkwardly to try and see what she was doing. She was loosely coiling the thread around each ball, separating them to either side. It was fairly irritating to have his balls played with in this manner, but since a beautiful, nude woman was touching him there, his cock only trembled with excitement. When she suddenly pulled the coils taut, he yelped as his balls became cinched into tight, hard nobs. He jerked, but she held the leather firmly, so he was only rewarded with more pain.

       “Be careful,” she warned teasingly. “We wouldn’t want your balls to pop off! The Queen would never forgive me for ruining you.”

       Her small, skilled hands continued, wrapping rope around the base of his rock hard cock, then tied it neatly off so no knots showed. David already began to feel the effects of the tie. Blood pounded into his cock, and the entire thing felt sensitive as hell. The head began to turn a light shade of red, his balls and shaft not far behind.

       “Now, shall we play?” the mistress replied as she got up, wiping a strand of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. She circled around him, then reached from behind his spread legs and gently caressed his balls with her fingernails.

       David let out a groan of ecstasy. Her touch felt like electricity across his sensitive balls. Back and forth her fingers fluttered, teasing them again and again. Soon, the tickle became maddening. His hips pulled and gyrated as he tried to escape her touch. When he buckled particularly hard she swatted his buttocks with her hand, causing him to yelp in surprise. The slap hadn’t been hard, but very surprising and stinging.

       “Stop squirming,” she ordered curtly, grabbing the mess of rope that was tied around his back and tugging.

       Very clear that he was unable to do much beyond doing what she said, David ceased his movement. Her hands returned, and the whole thing started over again. It wasn’t long before he received another slap on the ass for bucking. Another slap, he stopped moving. More teasing, then squirming, and another slap. It went on again and again.

       “You must be getting nice and sensitive,” the mistress remarked, mercifully stopping. Her finger left his balls, trailing up the crack of his ass as she moved around him and peered as his bound privates. “Just as the Queen prefers…” She moved to a corner of the wall, where various objects other than rope hung. David recognized a host of items, such as paddles and riding crops. He let out a muffled grunt of protest as she selected a small black crop made of leather.

       “Oh, the things she does…” she said dreamily as she squatted down before him, holding onto the ropes crossing his chest for balance. “Are you lucky to possess such a desired cock, or unlucky?” David felt the square of leather on the tip of the crop slowly rub up and down his cock. “Of course, you would have to think of yourself as lucky. To think otherwise is against the wishes of the Queen.”

       She lightly slapped the crop against his shaft. Not hard, but as sensitive as his cock was, it hurt more than it should have. David grunted as more swats came, kissing up and down his shaft. This time, the rope mistress didn’t bother to reprimand his resisting; all she did was steady slap his cock.  It was harder than David ever remembered from the bindings around it. Ever small strike sent it bouncing, wagging painfully back and forth at the base.

       Torture him as she did, David refused to let anything through his gag other than the occasional grunt. He wasn’t going to give in so easily. After all, he was from the streets, and endured pain far worse than this.

       Then the dungeon door opened.

       “That will do, Kiko,” came the Queen’s sultry purr.

       David’s eyes widened as the goddess entered the room. Even in the low torchlight, she seemed just as beautiful as before. Over her non-existent outfit of golden thread, she wore the lightest robe of shimmering silk to halt the coolness of the dungeon. The garment was see through, as the glimmering strips of gold were visible beneath it. Nothing more was apparent, however, than her beautiful breasts, still crowned by her jewelry.

       “As you wish, my Queen,” came the mistress’s loyal answer as she ceased her playing. She rose, head bowed submissively. “Is there anything I can do to serve you?”

       “No, you may go,” Cleopatra responded. “I shall deal with your bindings myself.”

       “As you wish,” she said, giving a peculiar curtsey, then left and shut the door, leaving the two of them alone.

       The Queen turned her full attention on him. “Have you been a good boy, slave?”

       “Mmn…” was all David could grunt in response.

       Slowly, she walked forward, hips moving in a perfect sway until she stood right before him. Her enormous breasts lay mere inches away from his nose from his hunched position. Up close, her skin was silky and smooth, not one possible blemish visible. He grunted again, trying to speak past the gag.

       “Shh…” Cleopatra cooed, reaching out to delicately touch his face. David almost melted at the spot. It was the first time she laid hands on him. “Do not strain yourself, slave.” Her other hand waved over her breasts, gently caressing the flesh. “Merely look and breathe deeply…”

       David complied, focusing hard on the gorgeous mounds before him and nosily breathing through his nose. It was the scent of heaven. Whatever the Queen garnished herself with only aroused him more. He could almost taste it on his tongue crushed beneath the ball in his mouth.

       “Normally,” she began as she circled him after a moment, the luscious breasts cruelly taken from his view. “I have a mistress train my slaves. But you are different…simply an astounding body. I have long desired a personal man, one who I could trust with no other.” She stopped before him, raising his chin with her fingers, pulling his view away from her breasts and into her own deep eyes. “Can you be that slave?”

       “Mmmng, mm un un eee,” David grunted pitifully. He wanted to speak his true desires, but Cleopatra merely smiled. She walked to the corner where the spanking devices hung, selecting a long, thin cane.

       “I have only a few rules that must be obeyed, slave,” she said as she positioned the thin wisp of wood across his buttocks. “One: My word is absolute.” With a flick of her wrist and arm, she swatted the cane across his flesh. The sharp, stinging pain welled tears up in David’s eyes as his muscles flexed.

       “MM!” he groaned.

       “Do you realize this slave?” Cleopatra inquired. When he didn’t answer, she struck again, issuing a louder gasp of pain from him. “Slave, I said do you realize this?”

       “Mmm-hmm!” David grunted in assent.

       “Good. Two: My body is sacred,” Another stinging swat made David twist in his ropes. “Do you accept this slave?”

       “Mm-hm! Mm-hm!” he moaned again.

       “Three: To wish against my will is death.”

       “MMMM!” David screamed as the cane drew another red hot line across his ass.

       “Do you understand slave?”

       This time, David nodded his head, blinking back tears. He shut his eyes, waiting for her words again, but they never came.

       “Good boy,” The Queen said softly. He felt her amazing hand caress the sore lines across his buttocks. “Three simple rules, wouldn’t you agree?”

       David nodded, relieved that she wasn’t hitting him anymore. He opened his blurring eyes, but the Queen quickly raised a finger.

       “Eyes closed, slave.”

       He complied, blocking out her gorgeous form. In a second, he felt her hands on his face again, then the sweet wind of her breath on is face. She was close…very close.

       “I can give you more than you ever thought possible,” she whispered tantalizingly in his ear. “Pleasure from beyond your wildest dreams…and all that I ask in return is your obedience. Don’t you think that sounds like a fair deal?”

       It certainly did. It sounded more than fair. David weighed what was presented before him. He didn’t want to relinquish his freedom so easily. It went against everything he ever did. But on the other hand…life in the palace. Safety, food, a place to sleep, all to serve what was quite possibly the most beautiful woman in the world. And she only hinted to what was required of him, and he liked it.

       So after a deep breath, he slowly nodded his head.

       “Good boy,” Cleopatra said again. “Now, do you think the Queen’s personal slave should remain bound in her dungeon? Why not continue to be a good little boy, and come with me to my chambers. Perhaps we could do something about my mistress’s little treat?”

       She giggled, and David realized what she was talking about. His cock still throbbed in the restraints. He nodded furiously. The feeling was uncomfortable yet arousing at the same time. He felt her finger caress the side of his face, drawing another string of drool away from his mouth.

       “You may open your eyes slave.”

       He complied, and she began to release him from the ropes. Despite the complex knots, she effortlessly undid them, all save for his wrists, the gag, and the leather about his cock. Instead, she took another small length of leather cord, and began to tie it around a loop left near the base of his cock. His breathing fluttered as her fingers came close to his balls, but never touched. In a second, she fashioned a sort of leash, then gave it a tug.

       “Come slave…”

       The leather pulled painfully on his already tingling balls and cock. Not wanting to feel any unnecessary pain, he quickly followed in step behind her. Shutting out the screams of the dungeon was easy. All he had to do was focus on the beautiful curve of his Queen’s ample buttocks sway before him.

       It was a long walk from the dungeon to Queen Cleopatra’s chambers. Along the way, David had plenty of opportunity to take in just how elaborate the palace really was. Every hall was made of polished marble, decorated with columns, live plants, and fountains. Large windows allowed the warm, dry breezes to flow in, and gave a fantastic view of the massive capital city sprawling below, and the enormous desert and mountains that spanned beyond.

       All of it belonged to the goddess that led him by his cock and balls.

       David wished he could have enjoyed the walk more, his arms still painfully bound behind him, and the large ball gag now working painfully on his jaw. Every so often, the Queen would give a tug, inducing him to step quicker behind her.

       Throughout the palace, he caught glimpses of the Queen’s other stock. Guards, all of them female, patrolled in pairs, halting and bowing as she passed them. Like the ones that brought him to her, they donned the same armor: a leather corset that was metal plated with a thong bottom and tall leather boots. The corset served the dual purpose of protecting the torso and all the while lifting the ample bosoms. David could only imagine how vicious and deadly they were when they were faced with opponents…distracted male opponents. Their ethnicities were all varied, ranging from the muscle bound Africans to the sleek, cunning Asians.

       Every so often he would spy some of her harem; beautiful women, completely nude, traveling in groups of three to four, sometimes accompanied by a mistress. All of them, like the guards, bowed as the Queen brushed by with her presence, and then girlishly eyed David, sometimes giggling afterwards. Despite what had happened to him in the past hours, he still managed to blush.

       They ascended many sets of stairs. It seemed the Queen’s chambers were deep in the highest tower, which would only make sense. The long walk finally ended when they stopped before a large set of double doors at the end of the hall. Two guards stood at either side, bowing before opening the gate to her quarters.

       David tried to imagine how Queen Cleopatra would live, and he wasn’t too far off. The doors swung into a single large room, just the right size to be considered luxurious and not empty. Silk hangings dangled from the ceiling in various shades of pink and gold. One section of the wall was an intricate waterfall that babbled down quietly into a small pool. Another wall held a set of vanities, covered with bottles and drawers.

       On either side of the room were doors, each ajar to reveal their contents. David saw that one was a bathroom, carved from pure, shiny stone, the edge of a large bath visible through the crack. The other was a wardrobe that spanned deep into the wall.

       A balcony overlooking the city encompassed a large portion of the outer wall, soft curtains of silk gently fluttering in the warm breeze. Before that sat the largest thing in the room: the Queen’s bed. Made up perfectly in golden sheets and dozens of pillows, it could easily hold at least 5 people side by side with room to spare. Around the headboard, David noticed hooks and rings and wondered just how far the Queen took her bondage.

       The guards shut the door to the chamber with a dull thud.

       “Do you like my quarters, slave?” The Queen asked.

       David grunted and nodded, still taking the magnificent room in. Cleopatra undid the small tassel of her silk jacket that hung near her belly then let the thin cloth fall from her body. She caught it, then draped it over the back of a small chair, standing once again for the most part nude. Her breasts stared at him, and he could only stare back.

       The Queen gave a gentle tug on the leash, willing him closer. “Closer slave…Please your Queen, and you shall spend much time here. It will become your heaven.”

       As David drew closer, he once again smelled the intoxicating scent that made his heart beat faster and his cock throb. Now being bound for so long, it settled to a deep shade of red, and every breeze that gusted across the skin of it made him quiver. He was hornier than ever.

       But just as he drew closer, and as she gazed deeply into his eyes, she dropped the leash and casually sashayed away, playfully running her finger across the gag, collecting drool. David groaned in surprise, not sure whether to follow her or not. She hadn’t willed him to do anything, and her word was absolute.

       Cleopatra walked to a small, short pillar before her bed. On it, on a large silver platter was a cluster of fruit. Ripe oranges, grapes, bananas, pineapple, and other lush exotic fruit lay elegantly stacked. She beckoned to David with a finger, and he walked to her, trying not to step on the trailing leather that was attached to his cock and balls.

       “Shall I release your balls and cock?” The Queen questioned lightly, picking up the biggest strawberry David had ever seen. Hypnotically, she brought it to her mouth, teasingly rubbing it over her thick, plush lips and letting her tongue dance and swirl across the red surface. She bit the fruit, and an explosion of juice erupted from it, spurting onto the top of her cleavage. “And perhaps the gag as well?”

       David nodded earnestly. The sides of the straps were chafing the corners of his mouth, and his jaw was slowly aching with a hot pain.

       “Does it hurt?” she questioned, and again, David nodded. Cleopatra’s face turned sorrowful, full of pity. “Oh, you poor, poor boy. And being, so nice and quiet. I will remove the gag, slave. You will not speak unless I speak directly to you, unless it is to respond to my orders.”

       Her will clear, she reached around, unfastening the straps behind his head, then loosened the one under his chin. The saliva coated ball popped out with a small sigh of relief. David swallowed hard.

       “Thank you My Queen,” he whispered. This didn’t fall under the order she gave him, but David thought it rude not to say something.

       The Queen smiled. “You are welcome, slave. Now stand straight.”

       She crouched low and David felt her silken fingertips work the cord around his privates, almost shuddering in relief as they loosened and came off. His cock tingled, already beginning to regain its normal color as the circulation resumed.

       The Queen stood before him again. “I seemed to have made a mess on myself, slave. Clean it.”

       David froze. His hands were still bound behind him, and did he even dare to touch the Queen? “But, My Queen…I have no water or rags, and my hands are bound…”

       She raised an eyebrow. “Then use your tongue. I do not accept excuses.”

       David looked down to the crimson streak already drying in the moistureless air. She had made it clear, but was this really happening? Was he about to caress those gorgeous breasts with his own tongue?

       Hoping it wasn’t a dream, he stooped, the let his quivering tongue flit out and grace her skin. If her scent was heaven, then so was her taste. The skin of her breast was smooth and supple. The berry juice, mixed with an unidentifiable taste and the salt of her skin danced madly across his taste buds. Up and down the red streak he licked, down the curve, near the areola, then up near the crevice. He tried not to become intoxicated, but soon found himself over licking places where there was no juice. When he stayed as long as he dared on one, he moved to the other, making sure that every trace of red and tiny seeds were gone.

       He rose from her breasts, a shiny wet patch of his saliva coating most of the top of them.

       “Good boy…” The Queen purred, but David barely heard her, still enjoying her lingering taste. “Would you like a reward?”

       That snapped his attention back. “A reward, My Queen?”

       “Of course. All of my slaves who do well deserve rewards…unless you disagree?”

       “No, My Queen!” he said quickly. “If you wish you give me a reward, then it is your will to do so.”

       She brought the uneaten half of the strawberry to his lips. “Taste it slave.” He did so, taking a small bite from the edge. It was sweet and ripe, but nowhere near of what she herself tasted. Once he tasted it, she took it back to her own lips and consumed the rest. “Delicious, no?”

       “Yes My Queen, very.”

       She kneeled, once again performing that act of submission, yet complete dominance at the same time. David felt her velvety hands circle his still erect cock, and he moaned out loud. Both of her hands coiled around it, she began to pump it forcefully with long strokes, up and down. Every pass down his shaft caused the slit in his head to part slightly, as if it in itself was gasping in pleasure. The earlier handjob forgotten, his balls began to tingle, the muscles in his shaft flexing.

       “Where shall I have you come, slave?” The Queen asked teasingly as she continued stroking. “Perhaps you would like to spray my breasts? Or should I give you a second chance at our little wager and just have you coat one of them? No…it is too early yet. Perhaps I should let your cock slide between them, so that it may burst within…”

       The visions seemed so real in his head. David could almost sense the heavenly flesh sliding on his cock. His balls clenched and his cock flexed, and he came, shooting a load across the Queen’s cleavage.

       “Did I say you could release yourself, slave?” Cleopatra demanded sharply. She squeezed his cock almost to the point of pain and glared up at him before rising.

       “I…no, My Queen. It’s just…” David sputtered.

       “You will come when I allow you to, and not before!” She reached out and snatched him by the ear, painfully twisting it, then swatted his ass with her hand. David yelped in both surprise and pain.

       “I’m sorry My Queen!”

       “I did not give you leave to apologize,” she snapped, then pulled his ear, half dragging and half leading him to the foot of her bed. “Bend over!”

       David knew better then to argue. He stooped at the waist, leaning over the sheets.

       “Now spread your legs…wider!”

       He did so as well, spreading until they were two and a half shoulder lengths apart.

       “Do not move, or your punishment shall increase tenfold.”

       Leaving him to wait, his come still spattered over her breasts, she marched to a vanity and opened a drawer, then reached inside and pulled out a paddle. She returned to him, lightly slapping it in her palm, then placed it over his ass.

       “I expect you to take your spanking like a man. Any cries will only prolong it. Is that clear?”

       “Y-yes My Queen,” David stuttered, overtaken by the sudden change she had gone through. Then the paddle slapped his ass, hard. He cried out anyway as the blistering heat of the strike spread across his cheek.

       “I will have you gagged again slave, if you do not control yourself. If I gave you reason to shout, I would have sent you back to the dungeon. It is your last warning before I gag you and have you whipped.”

       “Yes My Queen, I am sorry!” David quickly said, then braced himself.

       She slapped again, but David stayed silent. Each strike alternated; first his left cheek, then his right, and then back to his left. He was just getting over the caning she gave him in the dungeon. Now, those lines of planes flamed again, washed over by a tidal wave of heat from the paddle.

       He was only on the fourth strike when he had to bite his lip to not shout. Subsequent slaps caused little grunts to escape him, but the Queen either overlooked them, or didn’t hear them altogether. By the time the paddle strikes reached double digits, his eyes were brimming with tears. His ass felt set ablaze with stinging pain.

       Just as he felt he could take no more without screaming or breaking down, the strikes ceased, and a cool hand ran over his hot ass.

       “Shall I continue slave, or have you learned your lesson?”

       “Yes My Queen, I have,” David gasped, trying to control his shuddering voice. “I will not come again without your permission.”

       “Very good. On your knees slave.”

       David quickly straightened, then fell to his knees. Her hand pressed to his head, gently bowing it, and then guided his face to her belly. Up close, he saw the diamonded studded chain that was pierced through her navel. Her sweet scent filled his nose again, though it was not nearly as potent as it was on her breasts.

       “I am not angry with you,” she said softly, stroking the back of his hair. “You are untrained, and will have to suffer such disciplines until you obey my word perfectly. You desire to obey me, no?”

       “Yes My Queen, I do. Thank you for giving me the chance to.”

       After his accidental expulsion and spanking in the Queen’s chambers, David was sent to the slave’s quarters for the night. It wasn’t much other than rows of bunks in a long room. But these beds had chains and manacles hanging from the headboard and foot posts, in which he was cuffed in by his two guard escorts and left. With nothing left to do, David tried to get some sleep.

       He was awoken at dawn by two new guards. They released him from his chains, only to bind his arms with rope and stuff another harnessed ball gag into his tired mouth before marching him off.

       Instead of returning him to the Queen, he was brought to a new chamber. Everything was tiled; the floors, the wall, and the ceiling. Water ran in small channels all around, sometimes falling like waterfalls along certain areas. Slaves, mostly women with a spattering of men bathed in the water.

       A pair of slave girls took hold of him firmly, yet gently. They lacked the rough pulling of the guards, but at the same time made it clear that they were in control. David prepared for a shock from the torrent of water they dragged him under, but it was warm, as warm as the desert air that snaked through the palace halls. Each woman took a handful of soap and began to scrub him from head to toe. When they finished, they dunked him under falling water, cleansing his body of soap.

       At first, David thought they were finished, but then one squatted down with more soap, then began to scrub his groin until it was fully lathered. He grunted in surprise when she procured a small blade and pressed it into the lather, thinking the worst was going to happen. He had heard all about eunuchs…but his fear was misplaced. The slave girl merely began to shave away his pubic hair, working briskly until his entire region was bare.

       Shaved and cleaned, he was dried with a set of fluffy towels, then once again turned over to the guards who were impatiently waiting at the entrance to the bath. After a while, David recognized the path they were leading him along, and his heart sank: they were headed to the dungeon. Sure enough, the big wooden doors were soon before them, as were the screams and moans beyond it. They descended to the first level, then the second, but went no further, instead, entire entering a cell halfway through.

       Waiting for them was once again the rope mistress.

       “Good to see you again, slave,” she crowed expectantly as the guards hauled him in. “You’re going to have so much fun, for today marks the beginning of your training.”

       In the center of the small cell was a peculiar wooden object. It was a simple square beam, mounted on the floor. A few inches from the bottom of it was a tiny platform, but that was it aside from a small lip on top of it, making a small ledge.

       “Move him to it, hurry!” the rope mistress snapped. “Hold him in place.”

       The guards hustled him to the post, then grunted for him to stand on the platform. David complied. He found that it was very small, just barely big enough to hold both of his feet. The two females held him securely by the arms while the rope mistress uncoiled a role of brown rope from a small stack. She squatted down, then began to coil it around his ankles, first biding them tightly together, then threading the rest of the rope around the pole, securing it firmly. Another bundle of rope tied around his knees in the same way as his ankles, then around the muscles of his thighs. On the tiny platform, David felt like teetering, that he would fall to the side, but the rope mistress’s bindings held him fast.

       The Asian mistress tugged at the knots, checking her impeccable work. “The Queen said you were to be hers, did she not? Unfortunately, after your lapse of self control in her presence, she is beginning to think otherwise. You will undergo the training of a normal slave, until she deems you worthy once more…”

       The guards and the rope mistress left, leaving the door ajar. David grunted as he tried to find a comfortable way to stand. It wasn’t happening. The edges of the post ground into the front of his legs, and it stopped at about the middle of his thighs, so he could still bend forward. The minutes ticked by. A line of drool trickled from his lower lip from beneath the gag.

       The door opened again, and two figures entered. The first was one of the Queen’s slave girls, a girl with middle length blond hair and blue eyes obediently cast to the floor. She was naked, of course, and carrying a sort of saucer, several bottles inside, and a towel draped over her arm. The figure behind her was another mistress, wearing the high black thong and sandals. She was a native Egyptian, with dark skin, dark hair, and even darker eyes. Her entire body was toned, chiseled with subtle muscles. David’s heart beat faster when he saw her carrying a many tailed whip in each hand.

       The slave girl gave that peculiar curtsey to David. “Greetings. I am one of the Queen’s hand maidens.”

       She set the bowl down on the floor, removing the bottles and the towel. The mistress moved behind David, out of his field of view. All he could hear were her soft footsteps pacing back and forth. It made him very nervous.

       David would have liked to ask what was going on, but his gag prevented it. The large rubber ball seemed to serve a dual purpose. One was to silence any cries or begging that might offend the Queen, the other to prevent questions. Everything would move right along, and with being bound, he was powerless to do anything to stop it.

       

The hand maiden placed the saucer on the lip on top of the post that his legs were bound to. Inside of it were peculiar markings at different intervals, though David didn’t recognize them. She took a bottle turned it, a thick, honey-smelling substance spilling into her cupped hand. She rubbed them together, spreading the oil evenly about her palms, then took hold of his cock and began to gently massage it.

       David moaned at her gentle caresses. All it took were three kneads, and his cock was a rock stick in her hands. Her hands traveled lower, coating his balls in the sweet smelling substance, then returned to his cock and began to stroke.

“Relax, slave, and let the oil do its work…That’s right…”

What sort of place was this that men were masturbated constantly? David closed his eyes, wondering why the beautiful girl was pleasuring him so. The oil seemed to warm his skin, making it tingle with sensation. Up and down the girl’s hands went, gliding effortlessly along his shaft. Glorious as it felt, it still did not match the skilled hands of Cleopatra herself.

       The handjob continued, and before long, David felt the sensation. But he was gagged, so how was he supposed to ask permission to come as per the Queen’s absolute order? He didn’t want to make the same mistake again. The ball gag once again prohibited any coherent speech. David thought he had to try anyway, and he was already past the point of no return. It was going to happen, the least he could do was warn her.

       “Mnn ‘ong ‘oo mmm! Mnn ‘ong ‘oo mmm!”

       The slave girl seemed to understand and turned her strokes to a blur, trying to pump his cock dry. David bucked his hips as best he could and emptied his balls. The wooden device he was bound to creaked as he thrashed. He relished the orgasm as the slave girl’s oily hands squeezed tightly, milking every last drop from his shaft out of his head.

       The saucer below his cock sat partially full of his semen. The last drop that fell from the head of his cock was just enough to pass the first marking in the bottom of it.

       “You have yet to produce enough seed for the Queen,” the hand maiden said softly. “Her breasts are large, and deserve to be bathed properly.” David could only try to understand what she was getting to as she rose to her feet, lifting the bowl with her. “Until you satisfy four marks, you shall be punished.”

       Punished? David’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. It was the Queen’s game all over again, though this time it was different. The markings in the saucer had to represent the dimensions of her breasts. To replicate what he saw the slave do over her breasts, he would need to fill the saucer at least half! The fourth marking of the bowl nearly reached the rim.

       “The Queen made it very clear that you are to produce the most semen of all her slaves, if you are to be hers alone.”

       The hand maiden removed the bowl from the lip of the post and took the towel and dabbed his cock dry of the warming oil. It was slowly sinking back to a limp arc. She took the bowl and left, closing the cell door behind her. Then David realized why the mistress was there. Her hand was suddenly on the knot of ropes binding his arms.

       “Bend forward,” she ordered curtly as she pushed, causing David to lean forward. She didn’t let up until his gut touched the top of the post.

       David shook his head violently. It wasn’t fair! He couldn’t do something like that so quickly, so why should he be punished for the impossible? He felt a fluttering against his exposed ass, the tendrils of a whip as the mistress playfully fluttered it over his skin.

       “The body is an amazing thing…” the mistress said lightly. There was a brief pause, then a swish and a CRACK as the whip struck across his ass, burning hotly. “…the mind governs it, yet at the same time, it governs itself…” CRACK “…The Queen desires come…” CRACK “…whether you wish to give it to her or not, the body has limits…” CRACK “…So the body must be trained, until it can properly serve her desires. The body will resist, slave…” CRACK “But in the end, it will submit to the Queen.” CRACK.

       Every time her tendrils struck, David let out a roar of pain through the ball gag. The leather whips hurt far worse than the Queen’s brisk paddling. This wasn’t a reprimand; it was training, just as the mistress said. She struck again and again; David could here the grunt in her voice every time. Inanely, through his pain, he thought it sounded sexy.

       “Do you desire to serve the Queen?” CRACK “I said do you desire to serve the Queen, slave!” David nodded violently as another CRACK sounded, his eyes tearing from the sharp pain. A bubbling mass of saliva spurted from his gag and fell free, pooling to where more had fallen earlier. “If you speak the truth, your mind will aid in training your body…” CRACK  “…But lie and resist, you will only cause more pain and suffering, and still, you will submit.”

       David twisted in agony as the mistress increased her tempo. Both whips struck more frequently across his not beet red ass cheeks. The ropes held him firmly, and when he could not take it anymore, he stood straight against his will. The mistress responded by jerking him down by his arms, then walking around and slapping him across the face, a sound just as loud as the whip against his flesh.

       “Do not do that, slave,” she lectured sternly. David saw through watering eyes her sculpted body glazed in sheen sweat, her bosom heaving up and down. One hand gripped his chin roughly, but the other was busy at her privates, her middle finger lightly stroking up and down the fabric of her thong. “It will only increase your discomfort, and since we must wait for your body to replenish, it will not buy you time.”

       She dropped his chin, then disappeared from view. David bit hard into his gag.

       CRACK, CRACK, CRACK…

       David hung weakly in his bonds, breathing hard and sweating. It had been about half an hour since the mistress had left. How long had the whipping gone on? An hour, maybe two? It seemed to last forever.

       His ass burned as if it were on fire. He wasn’t bleeding, but the skin had to be raw and chapped. His jaw ached from being pried open around the ball for so long, the straps once again digging into the corners of his mouth. The skin beneath the ropes was tender and sore from reluctant pulling and jerking. Adding to that was the soreness in his legs from being forced to stand so rigid.

       He stood longer, until he heard the door open again.

       The mistress had returned, dabbing her sweaty chest with a cloth. Behind her was another slave girl. David felt his skin grow cold; she was carrying the saucer and bottles again. Desperately, he shook his head realizing what was about to happen…again.

       “You will come again slave,” the hand maiden said as she placed the bowl in position. This woman had deep red hair tied into a pony tail, but was just as sculpted as the first woman. The oil came out, smelling of a different aroma this time. “Four markings. No less.”

       His cock didn’t shoot straight so fast this time, his mind clouded by the residual pain and earlier orgasm. But nonetheless, it was soon back to it’s full 8 inches between her slick hands as they stroked up and down, wetting his balls and lightly puckering the head.

       Could he truly endure another beating? He wanted to serve Queen Cleopatra, he decided as much already. She had teased him with her quarters and her touch, even invoked her wrath. If he was not satisfactory, he could forever lose her, condemned to work where her presence rarely graced. He needed to produce more seed for her, to bathe those glorious breasts properly.

       David closed his eyes, trying to fight the giddy sensation rising up in him. He needed the hand maiden to milk him longer, so his body would make more come. He resisted relaxing, lest he orgasm right away. Instead, he just let her stroke quietly while he focused on controlling himself. Inevitably though, the tingling returned. He still didn’t know if he needed permission from a slave girl.

       “Mnn ‘ong ‘oo mmm!” he cried out, then ejaculated hard, forcing his body to buck as if he could shoot out more that way. The hand maiden’s hands tightly worked the vein on the underside of his cock, forcing out the last few drops. Spent and panting, David opened his eyes, only wanting to cry out in frustration.

       He was still nowhere near the fourth marking, though his load was actually farther past his first quite considerably.

       “You fall short once again,” the hand maiden said, then removed the bowl and toweled him off.

       The mistress grinned, having watching the milking from the door. Instead of her whips, she carried a long, thin wooden cane, which she was currently biting down on as she smiled at him. David trembled. The Queen had already caned him once, and that was only to imbue her law into his mind. This was going to be far worse.

       The hand maiden departed, once again leaving him alone with the sadistic woman.

       “I think I shall work your legs now, slave,” she said as she strolled to him. “And then your ass again as well. You already show improvement, so I fear our time together may be shorter than I originally hoped.”

       David felt the thin line of the wooden cane slowly draw against his thighs, rubbing back and forth. It vanished, and then there was a high pitched swish, and a familiar CRACK. He screamed in pain as the line traced across his skin, only to scream again as the mistress drew another…and another….and another…

       How long had David been in the dungeon? He had lost count of the exact days, but it had to have been at least several weeks. Weeks since Queen Cleopatra devoted any personal attention to him…and weeks since the mistresses had.

       The cycle had gone on again and again. He was awoken, bound, showered, then brought to the dungeon for his milking. A hand maiden would squeeze his load out, then he would be punished. There was slow but agonizing improvement, however. He had since passed the second marking in the saucer, and was nearing the third. He could also come more frequently, though this was working against him, as it meant that he was only lashed more often.

       Every few days, he was given a reprieve, though it was hardly a break. He was usually sent to the Queen’s gardens for manual labor, hauling crops and digging through soil. The next morning, his exhausted body was once again bound in the rope mistress’s inescapable webbings and pleasured, then whipped.

       The current maiden stroking his long glossy shaft was a dark skinned Ethiopian with large nipples. Despite her powerful hands, David maintained himself. He had also improved in endurance, no longer ejaculating as quickly. Instead, it now required a considerable amount of effort to force his semen from his balls.

       Cleopatra graced the dimly lit dungeon with her glorious presence only once in a great while. Every time David saw her magnificent body, seductive clothing, and divine bosom, he ached to prove himself in any way he could. Anything to break the cycle of torment he was trapped in. But long as he might, he knew it was for his best, that until his seed was bountiful enough, he would be of no use to her.

       When she came to inspect David’s training, her visits her painfully short, only stopping to inspect the saucer full of semen and perhaps dipping her finger in to feel its texture. After that, it was merely a sweet word of decadence and a sniff of her perfume as she drew close, then her form vanished for what seemed like forever.

       Today was one of those visits. Queen Cleopatra waited expectantly beside the kneeling woman, gently playing with her hair as she obediently pumped with both hands. Her outfit was once again, as it usually was, merely strips of clothing. A tiny thong of deep blue silk sat with high straps on her hips, tight, yet soft wires of the fabric crossing once over her belly, then looping under her breasts, supporting and presenting them elegantly, before meeting to form a skeleton of a halter top. A crown of golden jewelry studded with precious stones sat above the crevice of her cleavage once again.

       The Ethiopian’s hands began to win the battle, and David began to rock in his binds, aiding her strokes with his own hip thrusts. The head of his cock bulged then quivered.

       “Mn ‘mming! Mn ‘mming!” he grunted into his ball gag.

       His head exploded forth a torrent of come, splashing into the curve of the saucer in a hot, powerful jet. David grunted and jerked, bucking every last stream out until he dripped, leaving the hand maiden to squeeze out the last drops like always.

       “Three marks, My Queen,” said the hand maiden, presenting the saucer to Cleopatra. “Shall I call the mistress?”

       Thoughtfully, the Queen looked at him. David quickly averted his eyes to her breasts. Looking at the Queen without her direct will was grounds for punishment. “What do you think, slave?” she asked him. “Shall I have you lashed again?”

       David let out a pitiful groan that wasn’t supposed to mean much. What the Queen desired was immediately made to happen. Nothing he said could change that. Almost every day, his mistress had been the Egyptian woman. Sometimes it was the whip, sometimes the cane. Once she had entered donning a large strap on dildo. David had never been fucked in his own ass, and the painful experience was still fresh in his mind.

       “Hmm…I think not. All these days trapped here do nothing to fulfill my wishes. Release him from the post.”

       David could scarcely believe his ears. Had Cleopatra actually said that? Sure enough, the dark skinned hand maiden began to work at his bonds until they fell away, leaving only his gag and wrists tied.

       “Do not make me regret my decision slave,” she said, her voice full of sexy venom. “You are acting as my personal slave from this second on, and I expect nothing less than perfection. Else, you shall be lashed for your incompetence, then resume you’re milking until you are worthy.”

       She turned with a flourish and uttered “follow”, exiting the cell. David was quick to fall in line behind her, making extra sure to stay close, but to keep enough distance so if she stopped suddenly, he would not jostle her. Soon, he was out of the cool dungeon air, and into the warm, brightly lit extravagance of the halls.

       A winding, uneventful passage through her palace brought them to a wide balcony overlooking the Nile. Underneath a canopy, surrounded by lush foliage to aid in blocking out the intense afternoon sun, was a plush couch of silk. Set next to it was a small table with a large plate of fruit with some glasses and a pitcher, all made of gold. Behind the couch stood two nude female slaves, each with a long fan tipped with exotic feathers.

       The Queen reclined on the couch, the slave girls beginning to fan the second her silken body touching the shimmering cloth. She pointed to David, then downward with one finger. It took him only a second to realize that he should kneel before her presence.

       “Slave girl, remove his gag and unbind his arms,” she ordered with a snap of her fingers, then helped herself to a wedge of peeled orange. The fat juicy fruit disappeared behind her plush lips as she devoured it.

       The slave halted her fanning and went to David’s side, stooping over to undo the harness. She pulled the ball free, then unbound the cord at his wrists and quickly resumed her task of keeping the Queen cool. David coughed once and swallowed, wetting his mouth once free of the intrusion.

       “Thank you for your mercy, My Queen,” he said as soon as he was able.

       She smiled sweetly, curling her body luxuriously on the couch. “I am merciful, aren’t I? You’d do well to remember it slave. Now…” She extended her leg towards him. “Take off my sandal.”

       David complied, gently taking hold of her ankle. The Queen’s body was divine; bruising it in the slightest would be blasphemy. Her sandals were made of the same material of her clothes, a type of cloth glazed in gold. He undid the clasps, until it was loose enough to remove, which he then did, gently setting it on the stone. The Queen’s foot was just as gorgeous as any other inch of her body; perfect toes, groomed nails, and not so much as even a callous from walking.

       “Kiss it slave. Gently” she ordered lazily.

       Without hesitation, David bowed his head and pressed his lips to the top of her foot. Her skin tasted sweet, but not nearly as delicious as the flesh of her breasts that he hoped to taste again. All over her foot he planted soft kisses; over the instep, and across her toes.

       “Now suck my toes.”

       David did as he was told, delicately placing her big toe in his mouth before wrapping his lips around it, being careful to keep his teeth from grazing her skin. He lathered it with powerful sucks before moving to her next one.

       “Mmm…yes, that feels lovely slave. Lather your tongue between them…that’s right…good boy.”

       He felt a burn of satisfaction and pleasure at the praise from his Queen. Small flecks of substance of what could have been dirt moved to his tongue, but David didn’t care. Anything that fell off of Cleopatra tasted just as sweet as the rest of her.

       As he worshipped her foot, Cleopatra reached to her right breast and took hold of a large nipple, gently rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. Both of her nipples always stood erect, sometimes poking through her more covering outfits with ease. Whether it was her very body, or a constant, insatiable state of arousal, David never knew. What he did know was that he could not look away from her teasing with her toes in her mouth.

       “Long licks, slave. Up and down the ball,” she said, slowly tracing a fingernail around her nipple. David shifted her foot, so that he could better move his head up and down, and his tongue could freely wash the underside of her foot.

       Before long, he had cleansed her entire foot with his mouth, from the toes to her heel. When the Queen gave the order to cease, he did so immediately. She snapped her fingers, and one of the fan slaves presented her with a small cloth, which she tossed with a flick of her wrist to his hands.

       “Now dry my foot of your saliva,” she ordered as she bit into a fat black grape. “Once you are finished, replace my sandal, and do it quickly.”

       Moving as fast as he dared, David dabbed the Queen’s foot dry, then slipped her shoe back on, gently fastening it snuggly against her skin.

       “Very impressive, slave. Is this not the first time you have licked a woman’s foot?”

       David cast his eyes down. “No, My Queen. I have never had such a pleasure. Thank you.”

       She smiled that same omnipotent smile that devoured his attention. The Queen beckoned with a finger. “Closer.” She shifted on the couch, raising from her reclined position until she sat on the edge, knees spread wide as she motioned to him.

       It was a little awkward and humbling to move on his knees, but David did as he was asked, drawing himself closer until she commanded him to stop. He was close enough to feel the breeze from the fan slaves, and the warmth from her legs. Though he kept his eyes cast down at her midsection, she placed her hands on his face and raised it until he stared at both her eyes and her enormous breasts.

       “Perhaps you deserve a little reward for being so competent.” The Queen softly flitted the back of her hand across the side of her right breast, the one whose nipple she had been toying with the whole time. “My right breast is yours for a short time. I can see in your eyes how you hunger for the taste of it again. I am merciful, and I shall not deny you such a pleasure and privilege.”

       Before David could reply, her hands gently guided his face to the enormous pillow of skin. Automatically, he opened his mouth, and the fat nipple slid into his mouth. That wondrous taste spread throughout his taste buds as he suckled gently, kissing and swirling his tongue around the nipple and areola.

       Her fingertips lightly played with the side of his head, winding lightly into his hair and massaging the scalp. The soft breath that escaped her lips was one of pleasure. He moved his mouth around, planting kisses along the silken flesh around the nipple, only to return to the sweet bud of flesh.

       It felt like it would last an eternity, but Cleopatra’s hands soon guided his face away, his lips popping from around her nipple, causing it to quiver the tiniest bit, glazed from his saliva.

       “You wish to serve me, don’t you slave?” she whispered, hands still on his face.

       “Yes, My Queen, I do!” David said anxiously. “I want to serve your every wish, your every desire!”

       “Then get up and bathe your Queen’s breasts,” she said, her hands leaving his face as she leaned back slightly, tossing her long black hair back with a flick of her head. David quickly rose. His cock was rock hard, even after his prior milking. He took hold of it and began to stroke it, pointing the head over his bust.

       “Where shall I come, My Queen?” he asked, a pant in his voice. His balls already felt ready to explode.

       “The right one, slave. And it would do you well to offer your best. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to have you resume your daily milkings.”

       David closed his eyes, letting the presence of her beauty overtake him. She sat, poised expectantly for the bath of seed over her breast. He pointed his cock towards her right breast, the head bobbing inches from the top of it. Soon, he was ready, but he wasn’t going to make the mistake he made in her chambers.

       “My Queen, may I come for you?”

       She paused, grinning teasingly as he worked his cock. If she halted any longer, he would explode. If he stopped masturbating, he would invoke her wrath.

       “Come slave.”

       David grunted, then thrust his hips forward. A jet of white come shot from his cock, splashing onto Cleopatra’s breast. The weeks of painfully, repetitive handjobs followed by even more painful punishment reminded his body to keep producing, and the hot jets continued, squirting again and again with tight flexes of his head. The white seed flowed down her breast, into the crevice, around the outside, trailing until it clung against gravity, and down the front, bathing the nipple still slick with his own saliva.

       His intense orgasm finally ended, leaving him almost to the point of exhaustion. Cleopatra rose from her couch, one breast covered in warm white semen. Delicately, she reached down and took hold of the head of his cock, still tender from its. Her touch was almost electric, making David quiver. She squeezed, one last dollop squirting out, which she collected with her finger, then brought to her lips and licked clean.

       “Now, you can truly begin your service to your Queen,” she whispered.

       It was only three days later, and David was already used to waking up at dawn. No longer confined to the general slaves quarters, he was given a special bunk in the main tower of the palace, shared by five other slaves, two men and three women. Those slaves were Cleopatra’s most personal ones, though he soon realized that he himself was the closest to her.

       As soon as word was given that the Queen was awake, David and two of the women, both pure Egyptian, were escorted to the Queen’s chambers. It was a shock on his first day that Queen Cleopatra slept nude, and truth be told, every time he saw her naked was just as shocking. She truly was something of perfection, and it was obvious that the little clothing she wore was made to control her raw sexual image, instead, turning it into a far more deadly, seductive tease. David long since stopped trying to quell his erections. Most of the time, if not all of the time, his cock was stiff straight before her.

       When David arrived, she was sitting upright amidst the golden silk and pillows, waiting expectantly. While the two female slaves helped her out of bed, David ran the bath. The Queen’s bath was something complex, and getting the mixture of hot water and fermented soaps and oils was very difficult. He was lashed properly in the Queen’s private dungeon after failing the first time. Now, he was sure to get it right every time.

       Once the large, three person tub was full of steaming water, the air thick with incense and mist, the Queen entered. Gallantly, David held her hand as she dipped a foot in to test the water, then lowered herself slowly, then reclined until her body was submerged completely.

       The Queen’s baths were slow and relaxing. As she lay in the part molded comfortably for her body, David kneeled beside her in the hot water, washing each limb on request with a cloth and soap. First her arms, then each leg individually. Each part was carefully caressed and massaged until perfectly clean.

       As David washed her body, the two slave girls carefully washed her hair, pampering it with exotic treatments to make it shine and glimmer, then combed it straight.

       When her limbs were clean, David helped her to rise to her feet so she stood in the knee deep water, then began to wash her torso with the cloth. It was the best part of the bath, seeing her wet, soapy body and breasts, and he had the pleasure of touching her anywhere. Across her belly, then over, beneath, and in between her bosom, finally finishing down her back and buttocks.

       David finished her wash, then quickly dried himself while the slave girls attended to the more delicate drying of the Queen’s body. It was his job to ready her outfit and dress Cleopatra. She possessed the most extravagant wardrobe David thought possible. What he glimpsed from his first visit to her chambers was merely a fraction of the true thing. The entire wardrobe spanned an entire room. Inside were exotic clothes from all over the world: silk skirts of varying opacity, corsets and waist cinchers, the tiniest thongs of lace and silk, and rows of plush robes of varying length.

       Today the Queen was to wear a small corset. The first time it was requested of him, David was unable to lace it properly. He was lashed, then spent the remainder of the day practicing on a slave until it was proper.

       Cleopatra was escorted from the washroom, then removed the towels around her, letting them fall to the floor where they were collected and discarded by the slave girls. David kneeled before her, a shiny golden thong in his hands. The garment was so small and light that it didn’t way more than a feather. He held it near her feet, allowing her to step into it, then drew it up her legs, making sure not to pull the glimmering floss uncomfortably between her buttocks, and not letting the elastic snap at her waist.

       Then came the corset. The Queen gracefully held her arms up while David laced it around her waist. He worked quickly, lacing it snugly up the back until it was tied all the way up. At the top of the waist cincher, her breasts sat in grooves, properly lifted for the world to see.

       One of the slave girls took a necklace from one of Cleopatra’s jewelry boxes. It was solid gold, and at regular intervals were diamonds as large as eggs. This was draped across her bosom high on her chest, the lowest diamond fitting warmly between her cleavage. The other girl carefully applied traces of makeup.

       Their tasks being finished, the slave girls left. David waited obediently on his knees for the Queen to finish. All that was left was her personal touches.

       From her large vanity, she delicately sprayed a fine mist of perfume from a crystal bottle over her body. Then, from a small damp patch of cloth, she dabbed her breasts and hips. David guessed it was the substance that aroused all around her; almost like some kind of pheromone.

       “Rise slave,” she said. “There is much to do today.”

       “Yes my Queen,” David obediently said and rose to his feet, enjoying the rewarding view of her sculpted rear wagging in front of him as they left.

       Cleopatra did several things during each day. On some, she inspected her gardens and harvest. Others, she held audiences with foreign diplomats about the expansion of her kingdom. Still others were devoted to herself with massages and other beauty enhancements.

       As they headed to the throne room, a guard approached them.

       “My Queen,” said the muscular woman. “Something has arrived for you.”

       The Queen’s interest perked. “Oh? And what would that be?”

       “A new slave, from Lord Chaka of Africa.”

       The Queen chuckled to herself. “Still trying to win my affection, I see. Very well.” She eyed David. “Come with me.”

       The slave was waiting for them in one of the antechambers of the palace. It was a beautiful African woman, one not young, but sculpted with experience, perhaps even noble background. Her mid-length black hair was neatly combed and washed. Her body was full of curves, with ample breasts and smooth skin. She wore a thick collar of diamonds, a strange thing to see on a lowly slave.

       True to the Queen’s desires and fetishes, she was restrained. A metal pillory shackled her hands to her neck, crushing the necklace of precious stones. A large rubber ball was strapped in her mouth, silencing her pleads and cries, which were more than evident from the worried look in her dark eyes.

       “What a marvelous girl,” the Queen marveled as she slowly circled the trembling woman. The slave let out a small squeak as she ran her hands over her hips, then gasped as the Queen’s hands reached to her breast. First she squeezed, feeling the supple skin, then lifted it slightly, as if she was testing the weight of a slab of meat. “Don’t you think so, slave?”

       David nodded. “Yes, my Queen. She is a very beautiful woman.”

       “I think she would perform quite well in my pleasure gallery,” she mused softly to herself as she continued to play with the slave’s breasts. Then she beckoned to David. “Closer slave.” David did as he was told and walked closer to her. “Kneel and pleasure her with your mouth. I wish to see her orgasm.”

       “As you wish, my Queen.”

       David dropped to his knees, then gently reached up and took hold of each of the slave’s buttocks, pressing his mouth to her pussy. She was carefully shaved, void of all hair. He slid his tongue between the lips of her pussy and began to bob it in and out.

       

       The slave gave out a guttural moan of pleasure and reluctance. But there was nothing she could do with bound wrists. David held her waist, and Cleopatra held her gently by the hair, feeling the smoothness while she continued to play with her breasts. He continued probing with his tongue, alternating between licks and pokes. Before long, the slave was writhing in her restraints, not wanting to orgasm, but unable to stop it from happening.

       Her pussy exploded, sending a squirt of juice into David’s face, startling him.

       “Oh, she squirts!” the Queen said excitedly. “This is most fortunate.” She clapped her hands, and two guards entered the chamber. “Take this slave to the gallery reserved for royalty,” she told them, and the guards hustled the whimpering girl off.

       David hadn’t moved from his knees, let alone cleaned his face of the slave’s juice. Cleopatra bent over, smiling teasingly.

       “Go wash your face, slave, then join me in my throne room.”