He inspected Iltani, and was pleased to see she had been prepared as he had ordered. She was arrayed in a simple robe of the sheerest white linen, silhouetted in the bright sunshine coming through the window, displaying the sleek loveliness of her shape beneath the nearly translucent material. Her long hair was restrained in front by a band of golden cloth over her brow, and flowed like a black waterfall halfway down her back. She had been bathed in lilac-water; Al could smell it from across the room. She was beautiful, he thought, as beautiful as any woman he had ever seen.

He beckoned to Iltani with his forefinger. “Approach, Queen of fallen Lagash,” he said. Iltani approached Al’s chair as slowly as she dared, stopping just out of arm’s reach. He gathered up her eyes in his gaze. “Closer,” he ordered.

As if compelled by some outside agency, unable to even look away, she advanced, walking as if in a dream, taking one slow step forward, then another, stopping only when her legs were pressed up against his knees. Al reached up to slide the straps of her robe off her shoulders, allowing the garment to slip down her chest and gather about her waist, exposing her round, full breasts, with their long, pink nipples. The chains that linked her wrists together behind her back rattled for a moment when Iltani modestly tried to cover her breasts with her hands, but then she controlled herself and grew still.

Al reached out to gather in these prizes. They looked firmer than any mammaries of that size had any right to be, and he was prepared to be disappointed when he took them in the palms of his upturned hands. He squeezed the resilient flesh gently, and bounced the twin globes a few times to test their resilience.

“Remarkable,” he said. “It is difficult to believe that these are the tits of woman who has had a child. I have never handled a pair that was so big and round, and yet so solid. I suppose you used a wet-nurse, but even so...”

“I did not allow the Prince of Lagash to suckle on any breasts but mine,” Iltani answered. “Never would I have permitted the heir of Enshunu to drink the milk of any but that of the Queen, so long as I could provide it for him.”

Al’s eyebrows went up. “Then I am all the more impressed.” His thumbs had found her nipples, and started batting them up and down to test their responsiveness. “It has been my experience that the best milk producers often have the most sensitive nipples. How would you rate yours?” As he spoke, the twin heads were already swelling in reaction to his handling. He seized the Queen’s swollen knobs of flesh between his thumbs and forefingers, and began to turn them back and forth. Iltani did not answer.

“So,” he persisted, “would you say your tits were more or less sensitive than average?” He noted the flush which had begun in her cheeks and was now rapidly spreading down her neck, a sure sign of sexual excitement. “I would definitely say ‘more’. In fact, I don’t think I have ever seen a bitch get so excited just from having her nippples played with.”

When she finally spoke, it was clear that Al had not been mistaken about her state of arousal. Her speech was halting, as if something was distracting her. “I would not know how… how to answer… you, sir…” She paused to take a few breaths, then stumbled on, “…I have nothing… nothing to compare…” She trailed off, closing her eyes and surrendering to the sensations that flowed through her body.

“I believe I could make you come just from fondling your tits,” Al said, watching the fascinating action of Iltani’s hips, which were swaying sensually as he pinched her nipples tighter between his fingers and pulled them around in circles. “You may well be the hottest cunt I ever owned. Enshunu was a lucky man. I suppose he must have fucked you raw every night.”

Iltani had by now given up any idea of resisting the spreading warm sensation Al’s manipulations were creating in her body. “The King… after I could no longer… no longer bear him sons… ahh… he did not… ohhh… require my presence… oh sir, please… presence in his bed… oooh, will you not touch me, sir?”

Iltani pulled at her dress from behind with her bound hands, clearing it from her hips, and the robe slithered down to the floor to settle in a circle around her naked loveliness. Naked, she was just as delightful as he had imagined. She pressed herself against Al’s knees, desperate in her need.

“You mean you want me to put my hand down here?” he asked, releasing one nipple and palming her sex with the free hand.

“Yes, please,” Iltani panted. “No one has touched me for such a long time…”

He allowed her to grind her pelvis against his hand, but he did not yet attempt to explore the interior of her sex. “So, who or what did that idiot Enshunu prefer to keep him company in bed, instead of you?” Al asked. “Girls? Boys?… Goats?”

The naked Queen was so distracted that she did not appear to have heard him. She had placed herself astride Al’s leg and was trying to relieve her need by rubbing her sex uninhibitedly against his thigh. Al concluded that Iltani was a naturally hot-blooded woman, and in addition, probably a vessel overflowing with pent-up desire, after years of being neglected by her husband.

Another thought occurred to him. “You were the Queen of Lagash,” he said. “Even if you had the face of a crocodile and the body of a river hog, there should have been no great difficulty finding someone to satisfy you. Or was Enshunu so jealous of his rights that he would allow no one else to enjoy the treasure that he had no use for?”

He waited a little while for her to answer, but when she did nothing more than continue to writhe on his leg and moan, he dug his fingernails sharply into her engorged nipples until she screamed. He said, “If you want me to let you come, you will answer my questions, bitch. Why did you not take a lover?”

Her eyes flew wide open, and she stared at him, clearly astonished that he could even conceive of such a thing. “The virtue of the Queen of Lagash must be above reproach, my lord,” she said. “How could I possibly forget my obligations so far as to bring such dishonor upon myself, my King and my city?”

Al’s eyebrows went up in mild surprise. “You would be shocked to learn that in places of lesser virtue than Lagash, it is more than merely possible,” he said. “Indeed, in Nineveh such things happen all the time, and no one gets very worked up about it.” He drew her from his leg with effortless strength, and set her back on her feet.

“Since you have satisfied my curiosity for the moment, I shall give you your reward,” Al said. His hand reached down between her thighs to her mound. When he inserted his fingers into the warm wetness of her womanhood, Iltani sighed and her entire body shuddered with delight.

She quickly grew even more excited, and soon she was performing an abandoned dance of lust in time to the rhythms of Al’s fingers. She was an exciting sight, with her eyes closed, her face flushed, her breasts rapidly rising and falling, as she built up to what he had no doubt would be a spectacular orgasm. This was almost too easy, Al thought.

To make the game more interesting, when he estimated that she was on the point of erupting, he pulled his hand away. For a brief moment Iltani was once again the Queen of Lagash. Her eyes flashed in anger and her voice was shrill, as if she still sat on the throne, and was addressing a servant who had failed to please her. “Why did you stop?” she demanded, her body twisting in frustration.

“I have the feeling that you don’t appreciate what I am doing for you,” Al said. “Beg me to let you come, Queen Iltani. Beg your master prettily, like a hot slave bitch and then, perhaps, I will finish you.”

“But…” she began to protest. Then realizing that this would be worse than useless, she stopped, swallowed hard, and started again. “Please, noble master, I need you to… I mean, will you not favor me with… please just touch me, master,” she stammered. It was apparently not easy for the proud fallen Queen to humble herself in this fashion.

“Touch you, slave?” Al asked. “Touch you where, exactly?” Iltani was remarkably naïve about sex for a married woman, Al thought. This only stood to reason, since her husband had neglected her and she had not enjoyed sexual experiences with any other men. He found her maidenly confusion and embarrassment charming.

“My… between my legs, master,” she said hesitantly.

“Beg me to stroke your cunt,” Al ordered. “If you want me to take care of you, come close, put your lips on my face and beg me to stroke your cunt.”

She obediently moved nearer, and then bent forward at the waist to bring her lips to his cheek. Al felt a delightful sensation as her stiff nipples brushed against his chest and a powerful scent of lilac filled his nostrils. Her warm, sweet breath played on his face, as her lips pressed against his cheek.

“Master, your slave begs you to stroke her cunt,” Ilitana mumbled, her voice now softer and lower.

Al’s hand found her aroused sex again. As his fingers entered her slot, he said, “Lick me, little slave.”

Iltani’s tongue immediately shot out and began to run over his face. His fingers were busy inside her, and soon her soft sighs gave way to louder, more urgent sounds: “Oh! Oh! Ohhh! Faster, faster!” Al felt a warm deluge of cum on his fingers. Her hips swiveled back and forth furiously, as she rode on his hand to a mighty climax.

After her orgasm had run its course, Iltani sat on Al’s leg with her head resting on his shoulder, and peered up at her new owner, her soft, brown eyes warm with gratitude and, possibly, he thought, even affection. “Thank you,” she murmured. “It has been such a long time. I had almost forgotten how good it feels.”

Her exciting gyrations had not left Al unaffected. An almost painfully stiff erection was sticking up like a tent post under his tunic and demanding to be tended to. Something would have to be done about that right away, he decided. The time had come for the former Queen of Lagash to learn that the life of a bed-slave was not all palm wine and honeyed dates. She was about to start taking a more active role in the proceedings.