Slaves of the Spartan Kingdom Ch. 01

She looked back at Marcie and stated, "The amount of knowledge you need to even begin to understand the motivations of my people would fill volumes. My father, the king, does not permit unfounded fears and disgust to limit the actions of his people. Technologies such as toilet-to-tap water treatment facilities are greatly hindered by such prejudices, and my father will not have such foolishness reside in his kingdom. What you see not only declares that the person urinating is keeping himself properly hydrated, but it declares that the recipient trusts he is doing so also, and developing trust is critical among many of the actions you see."

The princess looked upon the disgust on Marcie's face and said, "Don't worry. You are not a member of this kingdom, so you would never be honored by anyone – and I do mean honored – to be on the receiving end of it."

'Yes,' thought Marcie. 'I do have much to learn if I am ever going to figure these people out.'

The princess continued her tour through her pack. She was constantly talking, touching and or caressing the members of it. It was clear to Marcie that establishing and maintaining a connection with every single member was critical to her. The matter-of-factness way the women would raise their skirts to her so she could caress them highlighted their intimacy.

Some of the things the princess said to her today were making a lot more sense now. She wasn't trying to be a man being a leader, but a woman being a leader. She was using her natural ability as a woman to make personal connections with her people, yet at the same time, respecting men as men and encouraging them to be so. She was able to communicate to the men that she respected their natural dominance and how her leadership only strengthened this. As a result, the men did not feel threatened by her, which in turn strengthened her leadership.

Marcie was having a hard time getting her brain around this concept of leadership through submission, but the evidence in front of her could not be denied. The obvious and profound respect her people had for her, was something Marcie had never witnessed in her life, and it made her proud just to stand next to this powerful and awe inspiring woman.

Of course she wasn't just standing next her. While the others were getting at least a few moments of her attention, Marcie was in constant contact with her. If the princess wasn't physically leading her around, or embracing her, then she had her hand up her skirt or was otherwise stimulating her, like playing with her nipples. In normal conversation this would seem odd, but not in this group. Physical stimulation with someone you're near was typical.

No. Marcie was not having any difficulty keeping her panties wet.

They were soon over by the grills when Marie said to the princess, "The meal is ready to serve."

"OK everyone," the princess called out. "Time for evening prayer."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and all gathered around the princess. They formed a tight circle by embracing each other, with the thinnest part of the circle where the princess stood. It seemed to Marcie that the goal of the circle was to see how many people each person could make contact with. It was that tight.

"Dear Heavenly Father," Princess Jasper began. "Thank you for the bounty of life you have made available to us today, and thank you most for giving us the wisdom to recognize it and the courage to take it."

After a slight pause she continued. "On the eve of battle, we ask You, oh Lord, not to bless us, for we know You do not take sides when Your children choose to kill each other. We ask instead for Your forgiveness for those that will not be with us this time tomorrow. Those of us that will be with You tomorrow did not fight because we thought we were right. They did so out of the ignorance of not knowing how else to continue living, while still respecting who they are."

She paused once more, then said, "Amen." This was followed by a loud 'Amen' from everyone else as they broke the circle as if breaking from a football huddle.

The princess led Marcie over to the grill where Marie placed a steak on a plate for her. "Medium-rare," she said as she handed her the plate.

"What would you like Marcie?" the princess asked.

"Well-done please," she replied.

"Coming right up," confirmed Marie.

The sun was just hitting the horizon as the princess and Marcie sat down, side by side at the pool edge, to eat their steaks with their plates on their laps. Marcie was filled with many unanswered questions about this still mysterious woman. So for no other reason than to hear her talk about herself she asked, "I noticed when we got gas today you were always last. Then when we got our meals, you were the first. Is there any particular order of things in your pack?"

The princess finished gulping down a bite then replied, "As the leader here I am the alpha and the omega – the beginning and the end, which means I am the first and the last, and I do mean both at the same time. When we head into danger, I am the first one in and the last one out. Like at the gas station, I am the first one to enter that danger, and the last to be free of it. Even the meal applies. I am only the first because I know I can be the last. If I am in doubt about how much food there is then I will not eat until everyone else is served. I am the first and the last or nothing at all. I will settle for nothing less."

As the princess went back to her next bite, Marcie could only stare in amazement at how such a trivial question brought out such a meaningful reply. She was almost afraid to ask her another question, because she didn't know whether she could handle the answer.

Again and again she was finding herself awe struck to be in the presence of her. To think that tomorrow she will be in battle, and could die, ripped at her. This started her feeling something that initially horrified her when it came to her. She actually hoped that the princess would be victorious tomorrow, which meant that the US soldiers – the soldiers of her country – must die instead.

With their meal done, and as the princess led her back to where the women were washing the dishes, she stated, "I can't help thinking that if any of you die tomorrow I will be responsible for it. If I stopped being concerned with my foolish pride and renounced my surrender, I could be freed. And if I could convince the other slaves to do the same, then there wouldn't be any need to fight tomorrow, because there would be no one to rescue."

The princess just looked at her a moment then said loud enough for everyone to hear. "I want all of the slaves over here." In a few moments all of the mistresses had led their slaves to the princess. Once they were all together, the princess continued, "Marcie expressed an opinion that many of you may share, and if you do, I want you to hear my reply.

"She is concerned that any deaths that happen tomorrow will be her fault, because she refuses to say the words and renounce her surrender. First of all, I believe that the plan to rescue you is just a pretext. In fact, if you weren't here, I'm pretty sure they would solve the problem of us by just dropping a bomb.

"But the real reason I don't want you to give in, is because you would only be doing exactly what the politicians most want you to do. They would be extremely grateful of you solving their problem, by you compromising your principles, so they will not have to compromise theirs.

"Nothing makes a politician more happy than having a citizenry that cares more about staying alive, than it does about actually having a life worth living. Conversely, nothing scares a politician more than having a citizenry that would rather die, than dishonor themselves.

"If you want to renounce your surrender because you're concerned about being killed or injured by the crossfire tomorrow, then do so. I'll respect that. But don't do it because you are concerned about us. No freedom has ever been won in the history of man without at least the threat of the loss of life, and without freedom, there can be no life beyond just staying alive. For many that's OK. Not for us."

Princess Jasper turned to Marcie and said, "So. Will you dishonor me by dishonoring your principles?"

She shook her head and said, "No, Mistress Jasper."

The princess looked at the others and said, "And you?"

"No, Mistress Jasper," they replied, almost in unison.

"Good. You may go back to your mistresses," she said to all of them.

Marcie said, with her head bowed, "I'm sorry. I never meant to dishonor you."

"I know," she said, followed by a gentle kiss. "Your response is typical of many people. When presented with a terrible situation to others, you feel you have to do something, not realizing that the only things that are within your power only exacerbates the problem. It's called the 'Do Something' disease. You need to realize that when others are in trouble, often the best thing you can do is nothing at all."

Marcie replied, almost in tears, "I just can't stand the thought of someone like you not walking this Earth any more. You are the most amazing woman... no, the most amazing person I have ever met. The way you can be so submissive to men and yet so clearly be their leader, I can't even comprehend how that's possible."

The princess gave her another gentle kiss. "Like I said earlier. If you want to know what to do, think about how a feminist would approach it, and do the opposite. Take for instance one of their more popular excuses for way women fail to attain leadership positions, which is 'when a man acts tough, he is admired, but when a woman acts tough, she is called a bitch.' Feminists are wrong, wrong, wrong and a thousand times wrong on this. Men whoact tough are called assholes. It's men whoare tough that are admired. Women who only act toughshould be called bitches, because that is exactly what they are. And until they come to grips with their natural submissive nature they never will be tough.

"You see... My father long ago realized that by making women into good leaders it allows his men to become better ones. What my father told me when I was eleven, and what is expected to be taught to all girls of the kingdom, is that they need to develop into the best leader they can, by using their submissiveness, not rejecting it. He didn't anticipate that I would use that to challenge him in his idea of pack leaders must be men, but that's the beauty of being a real leader. You get better decisions from your people than you yourself would have come to on your own.

"The example he gave about becoming a leader was to assume he was blind. If so, he would have a very large liability to him becoming a leader. The question then becomes deciding on the path he should choose to acquire this leadership? Should he choose the liberal one, where he should complain how something that is not his fault should not be used against him? Or should he choose the correct path, which is to acknowledge how his blindness works against him, yet show how his other positive attributes outweigh this negative one. Even better, show how his blindness can be an asset.

"Taking this path probably will not help a blind man become the leader of a motorcycle gang, but it will lead him on a path of dignity, which will lead him to a life worth living, which is a life of respect. Any leader who is motivated by anything else, really isn't one.

"As a natural dominant, men have an inside track to leadership. It is very easy for them to be tough without acting tough. As a natural submissive, women have a tougher climb to be a leader, but they are never going to get there by denying the climb is even there, or that they should be made a leader without having to make it.

"And that's the important point that escapes the feminist. Should a woman accept being made a leader by declaring it's not fair to have her make a climb that men don't have to, or instead, should she seek to become a leader by making that climb anyway? Feminists see this climb as demeaning, yet it should be seen as an asset that further proves their worthiness of leadership. It is the obstacles we overcome, not the smooth paths we follow, that are the true test of our character.

"If you were to ask every one of these men here why they chose me as their leader, it would be because I made that climb. I did it by proudly declaring that I am a submissive and stand for the things they stand for. From their perspective they didn't pick a lesser leader. They believe they chose the strongest one available, because I made it clear to them how making that climb made me the better leader. I turned my submissiveness into an asset of leadership. I didn't run from it. I embraced it, and used it to find a path no man could ever use."

Marcie just shook her head in awe. "All that makes so much sense. Yet I... I don't know... I just can't seem to connect the dots. How exactly does that translate into a patriarchal society picking a woman as a leader?"

"It's not that hard to understand at all," the princess began. "If you are a man and you are concerned about the women in your life being happy and fulfilled as submissives, who would you want as a leader? A man that can't relate to submissiveness or a woman who can? Ask any man in my pack about which pack has the happiest and most submissive women in our kingdom, and they will tell you it's mine.

"As a woman, I not only speak to the men's concerns in a way no other man can, but to the women's concerns as well. In me, my women see a woman in a solid position of respect and authority, yet they see I am very submissive to men. It gives them the confidence to surrender in submission to their men too. This is an important point. Most women really do want to submit. They just want respect, and they want men worthy enough to submit to. It is my leadership that makes that happen for both the men and women of my pack.

"To reinforce what I said earlier, leadership is neither masculine nor feminine, and it is neither dominant nor submissive. Leadership is nothing more than having the same values of the people you are trying to lead, and the ability to convince them that you are the best advocate for those values."

"The reasons for my leadership run much deeper than just this, but with it, I hope you have a better understanding."

All Marcie could do was continue to shake her head. Eventually she said, "Wow... There is no doubt in my mind that you are worthy enough for me to submit to. And I do it without any reservation whatsoever. I am yours to do with as you please." The princess then leaned in and gave Marcie another kiss, and held it there for a while.

It was now almost night. The sun had set, but there was still a faint glow in the west. The princess had resumed her rounds interacting with her people while keeping Marcie close by her side.

In the distance, Marcie heard the obvious sound of Harley's on the highway. As the sounds grew louder, the conversations around her began to diminish as others were now paying attention to them. When what appeared to be four motorcycles pulled off the highway and on to the road to the motel, many people began scrambling as if in preparation for a confrontation.

As the first motorcycle approached the driveway to the motel, someone standing over there yelled back, "It's Prince Michael!"

"Michael!" screamed the princess. She grabbed Marcie's wrist and yanked her after her as she ran through the pool gate. By the time they reached the parking lot where the lead motorcycle had stopped, the rider had already swung off of it and was removing his helmet. The princess never let go of Marcie until right before she launched herself into the rider's arms with a squeal like a little schoolgirl. "Michael!" She hugged him tightly with both arms and legs, and the force she hit him with nearly knocked him over.

Marcie had seen him before in one of those videos put out by the king, yet she was still surprised by the sight of him, because he was the exact masculine version of Princess Jasper, with broad shoulders and short black hair. There was only one significant difference he had with his sister, and that was he was tall. He was glorious, wondrously, magnificently tall. He had to be six-four, if anything.

The princess hopped down and then gave him another squeeze. "I'm so glad to see you."

"I wish all of my welcomes were as nice as that," he laughed.

Princess Jasper was now beaming up into her brother's eyes, when she saw him do a double take. She knew exactly what had caused that, and while keeping her left arm around him, turned around to look back at Marcie. "Isn't she stunning?" she said to him.

"Uhhh... yeah," he said, obviously stunned.

The princess looked back up at him and said "Great! Tonight she's yours!"

"Huh?... what!?" he stammered, trying to break out of the spell that Marcie brought onto him.

Before her brother had a chance to object, she looked back at Marcie and said, "Marcie. Meet your new master for the evening, my brother Michael, the crown prince of the Spartan Kingdom."

~ End of Chapter 1 ~ The Second Day As The Princess' Slave ~

Author's Note:

There are two ways to become a slave. You can have the chains of slavery put on you, or you can put them on yourself. This nation has millions of slaves, and virtually every one of them put them on themselves, but most don't even know it. The next four chapters are going to lead up to the events in this one where Marcie will submit to two other mistresses. Your task, should you so desire, is to decide in which cases did she put them on herself, and in which cases were they put on for her.

Warning: This story attacks liberal dogma, but it does it in a framework no conservative will ever defend, so if your looking for some excuse to dismiss the ideas presented, you'll have to find some other narrative beyond the author being just another drone of the 'vast right-winged conspiracy.' This story is not for the Kool-Aid drinkers of the left or the right, but only for those that believe both sides are full of shit, and want to find their own path in life...

...not that I claim they'll find it here.