INTRODUCTION

This is a ‘Novel of the Future’, set in the Mediterranean area in the latter part of the 21st Century.

Readers have to assume that a series of atomic wars have devastated a large part of the earth’s surface and the major part of civilization, as we know it today, has disappeared.

In its stead, a series of small states has arisen, each living separate existences, often unaware of each other. In the main, they are self-supporting communities, some far better organised and wealthier than others. In a way they are like the numerous small societies (or tribes) who grew up in the warm Mediterranean climes at the dawn of history. Except that now there are a number of modern overtones ... relics of our modern civilisation which has disappeared.

In one way these small states of the future are very like the earlier ones. This is in that the majority of them are ‘slave states’. As in early times, the strong conquer the weak and make them their slaves. As it has always been in human history, the weakest go to the wall - even though they may be far more worthy and virtuous.

It should be added that some of these states of the future are male-dominated, others female-dominated. BARBARIA is one of the latter. Its ruler is Princess Alexena and the most influential members of her Court are women ... although she does have a considerable number of courtiers to aid her in running affairs.

These people are the aristocracy of BARBARIA. Beneath them are the military class ... army and navy officers and, of equal ranking, chief slave-overseers. These men are very powerful, though subordinate to the Court. Beneath them they have their soldiers, sailors assistants - both male and female - who are all free men and women.

The third and largest class are the slave-men and slave-women who have been captured during the conquest of neighbouring states. In BARBARIA, (one of the more powerful and harsher states in existence) these human beings become mere chattels ... either to be worked to death or be used for the pleasure and amusement of their owners.

It is servitude for life. Except in the unlikely eventuality of BARBARIA itself being conquered. And even this would not guarantee any slave being set free!

As this story re-opens, Captain Varian, Princess Alexena’s chief Army Commander, has brought the imperious ruler of BARBARIA some disturbing news. Reports ... some little more than rumours ... have recently been reaching him of a distant State, known as Sythia, gathering its forces to strike a blow at BARBARIA. Hitherto, the existence of this State has not been suspected. Nor had it ever been considered that any State was powerful enough to threaten BARBARIA, which considered itself supreme in the known world.

Could these reports, some obtained from prisoners under torture, be true? If so, swift action had to be taken. If not, no harm would be done by mounting an exploratory expedition. That could always be diverted to plundering some smaller island community or city-state ... and so further increasing the possessions and power of Barbaria.

There was a further rumour. And this was that the State of Sythia was ruled by a woman. A woman as beautiful and as powerful as Princess Alexena herself ... if such a thing could be conceived possible!

It was a piece of news which certainly aroused the ruler of BARBARIA’S keen interest ....

CHAPTER ONE

Princess Alexena’s dark, almond-shaped eyes flashed. A kind of frisson ran through her and one elegant white hand heavily be-ringed, gripped more tightly on the arm of the throne-like chair in which she was seated.

“A woman you say. Captain Varian?” The princess’s tone was sharp, implying that it was an affront that any other woman should be Head of a State ... let alone a State daring to rival the might of Barbaria!

“Yes, Highness,” nodded Captain Varian. He had reckoned the information would intrigue the princess and he had been right.

“I see ...” The words came like a sighing-hiss. Then Princess Alexena relaxed again. “In that case, this becomes an expedition of supreme importance.”

“Agreed, Highness.” The chief commander always showed the greatest respect for the ruler of Barbaria. He was a hard-bitten man in his early forties and could scarcely be called servile. However, he knew where the true and absolute power lay ... acknowledged it ... and devoted himself to it.

“Kindly let me have a sight of your plans of this place called Sythia as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Highness.”

Alexena fell silent. She seemed to be deep in thought. One gold-sandaled foot pressed more firmly into the neck of the slave-girl acting as a footstool before the throne set in the Audience Room of the Royal Palace of Nexos. This throne was supported on the backs of two slaves who knelt on all fours, heads bowed.

“If all this is true,” said the Princess, after some time, “I want this woman ... this so-called ruler... brought to me. And I want her brought to me alive, not dead.”

“I shall make every endeavour, Highness.”

The regal head turned sharply. “Oh yes, Captain, you will make every endeavour. You will! If you know what’s good for you.”

Not for the first time the commander endured the lash of the royal tongue. He accepted it as best he could. “I meant, Highness, in war, nothing is certain. This ruler might be killed. Or kill herself.”

Princess Alexena seemed to ignore this piece of plain common-sense. “I want her here. Where this creature is!” Her foot pressed even more firmly down and a little suppressed moan came from the slave-girl crushed to the hard, marble floor. It was Flavia, one of the younger and

more recent additions to the Royal retinue of slaves. “And I want to see her like this.” The toe of the sandal jabbed into Flavia’s side. “Up!” came the order.

At once, Flavia knelt erect and placed her hands submissively on top of her head. It was a head which was bowed by reason of the fact that, from the nose-ring threaded through her sternum, two short chains ran, linking up with similar rings threaded through her nipples.

“This is Flavia,” said Princess Alexena, “just about the lowliest of my personal slave-girls.”

Captain Varian, however, had already recognised the shapely, auburn-haired youngster kneeling naked before them. He recalled the time when, on the deck of his ship, ‘The Taurus’, those holes for the rings had been made with a red-hot needle. How she had screamed in pain and horror as those rings had been threaded through and the little chains fitted! Well, the girl would have known a great deal more pain and horror since then ... some five or six weeks ago now. She must have had to keep her head bowed for all that time, he thought. It was a heavy price to pay for having looked at Princess Alexena with what had been deemed ‘undue arrogance’! Captain Varian liked the look of the girl. Lovely firm breasts, high and rounded; the aureoles a rosy pink like the pierced nipples.

“Ah yes,” he said, “one of the captives from our raid on Menos. Daughter of their chieftain, if I remember aright.”

“She had the effrontery to insist she was Lady Flavia,” said the Princess with a sneer. “That she be treated as such ... be treated with some consideration! I quickly disillusioned her,” A trace of a smile crossed sneering lips.

Captain Varian smiled too. He could well imagine what various forms that ‘disillusionment’ could have taken. It would not be pleasant to be in the power of a woman such as Princess Alexena! “She seems quite docile now,” he remarked.

“Oh yes,” nodded the Princess. “What are you, Flavia?”

“I ... I am your most humble and abject slave-girl, most high and mighty Mistress,” came the soft, girlish voice. The form of address when answering questions was obligatory. “And honoured to be so.”

“Honoured to be permitted to act even as my footstool?”

“Oh yes ... most high and mighty Mistress.”

A faint look of satisfaction crossed the Princess’s features. It was wonderful what the whip could do, she thought. And by no means for the first time. It would work equally well with this, as yet unknown, woman leader of the State of Sythia. She must, reflected the Princess, be a woman of considerable character and ability. With will and courage. Above all, with pride. It was going to be supremely delightful to bring her to complete submission. Far more so than with a childlike Flavia ... though that had had its moments. She had been a rebellious creature to begin with.

Suddenly, Princess Flavia snapped her fingers. “Ryar!” she called. A powerfully-built man came through the archway leading from ante-chamber ... the Chief Overseer of her Highness’s personal slave entourage. The flesh of his muscular body was the palest coffee colour and, apart from sandals, he wore only a brief white loin-cloth. Although a number of his assistants were eunuchs, Ryar was an entire male ... the prodigious bulging of the loincloth gave ample evidence of that!

“Highness ...” Ryar bowed. His dark eyes were hard and eager set in impassive features; his sandy hair was close-cropped. Not only an excellent and faithful servant but an ideal man of his duties.

“Remove this girl’s chains,” ordered the Princess. “But keep on the rings as a reminder. The slightest look of insolence or arrogance in her eyes and the chains go back on.”

“Yes ... Highness ...”

Ryar went down on one knee and the two small chains were quickly removed. Captain Varian heard a low, wondering kind of moan come from the kneeling figure. The auburn head remained bowed as Ryar rose again.

“You may look at me, slave,” said Princess Alexena.

It took a few moments for Flavia to comply. Her head had been bowed for so long it seemed impossible for her to raise it to its natural perpendicular. But then, with another moan, the head came up and, with a convulsive shudder of dread, reluctant blue-green eyes gazed on the ruler of Barbaria.

There is no arrogance in them now, thought Captain Varian. Only a sort of despairing blankness through which terror filtered. He had seen that look in the eyes of many a slave-girl. The soft pink lips, full and pouting, were quivering. With her oval face, wide forehead and delicate rose-pink skin, this Flavia was a very pretty young creature, reflected Captain Varian. Princess Alexena certainly kept the pick of the girls for herself! And, knowing the Princess’s sexual tendencies, those lips would have frequently and assiduously been at work.

Princess Alexena’s dark, diamond-hard eyes bored into her trembling victim. She knew what effect they were having. Power is a many-splendored thing, she thought. There is no lack of ways of exercising it. Just by looking one could send icicles of terror through a pounding heart.

There was a long silence, during which Flavia trembled incessantly, like a newly-planted tree in the breeze. Captain Varian’s eyes roved over the firm but curvaceous young body. Milk-white belly. Lovely swelling thighs. Young enough to be my daughter, he said to himself. Easily. He felt a faint stirring in his loins. Well, he had plenty of slave-girls in his own entourage ... all at his beck and call.

“Have you anything to say, slave?” demanded the princess in her sharp, metallic voice.

Flavia’s mouth opened and shut several times. She seemed bemused, at a loss for words. But she knew she had to make some answer. “Th-Thank y-you, high and mighty M-Mistress,” she finally choked out.

Princess Alexena smiled dazzlingly, if briefly. It was nice to be thanked after all she had done to the girl! She turned to Captain Varian. “Would you like to make use of her?” she asked.

The Captain was a little taken aback. He had not been expecting such a question, though he could not deny he had been lusting after the young girl.

“Er ... er ... well ... Highness ...” he began hesitantly.

“Show the Captain your wares, slave. We must see if he fancies them or not!”

Flavia looked stunned. A pink colour spread over her soft cheeks. Then crept down to her apple-round breasts. Two milky white orbs with delicate pink centres.

“P-Please ...” she began falteringly.

“Get your backside in the air, girl!” snapped Ryar. “Legs wide.” Now, despite her shame, Flavia moved quickly. She knew she had to unless she wanted to experience pain. She twisted around on her knees ...

went on to all fours ... and thrust her hindquarters high. Slowly, with evident reluctance, her shapely young thighs parted. Cheeks mottling slightly, eyes suddenly glinting, Captain Varian contemplated all that was so blatantly displayed to him. Oh yes ... he liked them young. And this one looked so very young. Yet so succulent. The fact that she had been depilated gave her a certain innocence but the girl’s mature ripeness could not be doubted.

“Mmmm ... quite charming,” he murmured under his breath.

“Do you want to make use of it or not, Captain?” asked the Princess, almost sharply.

“It ... it is most kind, your Highness,” said Captain Varian. “I mean, she is your slave ... why ... why should you?”

“You are my most trusted commander,” smiled Princess Alexena. “It is only right that I should do you some small favour now and again.”

“Thank you, Highness ... you are most kind.” Captain Varian inclined his head. He felt his pulses beating a shade faster and he glanced back at Flavia’s naked charms once more. Yes ... she would be most enjoyable.

“It’s nothing, Captain. The least I can do. Especially when I think of all you do for me.”

“Once again, thank you, Highness.”

“Ryar,” said the Princess, “have this slave sent to the Captain’s quarters whenever the Captain requests. When he has finished with her, have her brought back here. Now take her away.”

“Yes, Highness ...”

Captain Varian wondered what it must be like for a well brought-up girl to hear such words. To be moved like a chess-piece on a board. To be transferred from one place to another with no more concern than if she were a piece of furniture. Bitter indeed for her. But rather delightful for him. He saw the smooth white shoulders begin to heave with sobs as the Chief Overseers bent and hauled the girl up by a hank of her rich auburn hair.

“Come on, my little beauty ...”

Ryar half-dragged Flavia across the room. When she made some instinctive word of protest ... so natural in a young girl ... her deliciously rounded bottom received a stinging slap. Then, from off a table, Ryar took a long, slim chain. This was swiftly fastened to Flavia’s nose-ring and, at once, there was no more resistance in her. Trembling, she stood complacently still, eyes down cast. Several large tears rolled down. These were agony to endure if she attempted to fight the nose-ring. Thus she submitted ...

And Ryar moved off, leading the girl as if she were a calf going to market.

“Thank you once again, Highness,” said Captain Varian.

Princess Alexena spread her hands. “It’s nothing,” she said. “But you do see why I want this woman ... this so-called Head of State ... alive?”

“Oh yes, Highness, I do indeed. And I shall do my utmost to ensure that she is delivered into your hands. I shall give my life, if need be.”

“I hope it doesn’t have to come to that,” replied Princess Alexena, suddenly grave.

“From what I have heard, this is no ordinary foe, Highness.”

“Hhmmm ... but surely none can match the might of Barbaria?”

“Certainly it does not seem possible, Highness. But as a military man, I must take every precaution. There is no point in being fool-hardy. If the rumours are exaggerated, so be it. I would rather be made to look a little over-cautious than risk the forces of Barbaria.”

“You are right, Captain,” nodded the Princess. This Sythian force was beginning to loom larger all the time. How much a threat was it? The unknown was always more worrying than the known. By the gods, thought Princess Alexena, this woman will pay dearly for even threatening to imperil Barbaria!

Oh yes ... yes ...

What a day when I have her captive!

“When will I have your plan of campaign, Captain?”

“Within forty-eight hours, Highness. In fact, there will be two plans. One for a small exploratory force; another for the main force, if we find ourselves up against a powerful foe.”

“Good ... good. I look forward to seeing you again soon then, my dear Captain Varian.” The Princess raised her hand in a sign of dismissal and her chief commander rose from his seat and bowed deferentially ... catching sight of the two kneeling male slaves supporting the throne as he did so. What a fate, he thought! Better death than slavery! But then, especially when one is young, one always hopes. No warrior could truly imagine what being a slave means. Especially being a slave of Barbaria.

“I wish you good evening, Highness ....”

“Thank you, Captain. And I you.” There was almost a twinkle in Princess Alexena’s eyes as she said it. She was aware of her commander’s penchant for young girls, though she was not so indelicate as to mention it at that moment!

Her commander, dressed very much in the Roman style of several millennia before, retired from the Audience Chamber. The Princess sat for some time, silent and speculative. Grave dangers might lie ahead ...

But exquisite delights, too ...

Excitement sent her pulses throbbing. How superb life was! Oh yes ... how superb! When one had power, of course ...

Princess Alexena rose from her throne and left the chamber. The two kneeling male slaves remained silent, though both felt like uttering groans of relief now that their burden was somewhat lightened. But the throne itself was heavy enough in all conscious . . . and they had to bear it on their backs for several hours yet, whether or not it was occupied.

That was the existence of a slave.

To be used.

To be abused.

Yet, once, these two husky males, when warriors, had felt also that life was superb. That it had so much in the way of excitement to offer. Triumph, honours, glory and gold. The pleasure to be had from enchanting young women. Now there was nothing but drab servitude.

And the biting lash for the slightest so-called fault.

As to the pleasures of sex, they were crudely and cruelly denied them. For the penis of each was encased in a tubular device or iron. It ran from just behind the phallic head to an inch or two from the root. Natural functions were possible, but nothing else. Indeed, even the natural tumescence resulting from sexual thoughts or desires was made instantly exceedingly painful.

All male slaves in the Palace of Nexos wore this device.

And that device could not be removed except on the direct orders of the owner of the slave. It was an order only given, naturally, if the owner wished to amuse herself with her slave. In some way or another.

It was a bitter fate.

Especially when one was young and vigorous.

Strong and virile.

For, constantly, these male slaves were surrounded by the naked, nubile charms of seemingly countless slave-girls! Oh yes, a bitter fate indeed!