Pearls Before Winebyvargas111©
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Queen Fanura smiled wryly as she looked up from the parchment in her hand. The runner who brought the message offered to interpret it into her language, but she had no need of translation. She read and spoke Corthon almost as well as she did her native Nurian. Her mother, Queen Afni before her, had seen to that by giving her the son of a Corthon warrior, one of the Queen's many lovers, as her playmate. When Faruna was twelve, she had taken the boy to her bed and allowed him to become him her first love slave. "Our neighbors to the North are ambitious, my dear. One day they may come calling. I want thee want to give them a proper reception," her mother had said. The carefully scripted words on parchment indicated that day she and her people had been preparing for had now arrived.
She read the brief document again.
Honored Fanura, Queen of the Nurians. Hail!
Marius Portius, Emperor of Cortho sends thee greetings.
Fame of the richness and splendor of thy realm, Nuria, has spread far beyond thy frontiers. It has come to my Imperial Knowledge that many enemies covet the prize of thy lands. I, Marius Portius offer thee the protective embrace of Cortho. Within the fold of my Empire, Queen Fanura, Nuria would be safe from the predators which round about her compass as wolves about the defenseless lamb. Thy ascent to our gracious offer thus cannot be doubted. In three days my armies will be at thy frontiers. In three more, at thy gates.
Open then, the gates of Nuria to Cortho, as the thighs of a young maiden open to receive her lover. Make ready a banquet for the nuptials of our kingdoms.
Ah! The insolence of the Corthon Emperor! "Safe from predators?" Indeed! The lamb that has been devoured need fear the wolf no more. "The nuptials?" Speak clearly, Marius! Thou meanest the subjugation of Nuria, our absorption as yet another insignificant province of the Corthon Empire, another source of gold and women. No, Marius," she smiled. "Nuria will not be an appendage to thy Empire. Nuria will fight thee, nay, vanquish thee as we did the Thrussians and the Sirtaphs before thee," she smiled, "and thou willst never know the battle has already begun."
Fanura clapped her hands. "Run, Rini," she said to her serving girl, "call the High Priestess Dolphia and the other priestess from the Goddess's temple. I would see them in council." They had six days to prepare a banquet, even as the document had stated. More than enough for a night Marius and his men would never remember!
"Everything will be done, My Queen, even as thou hast spoken," Dolphia smiled confidently. "One of my priestess will be at each officer's side to lighten his heart and swell his member. The praetorians will be similarly entertained by the city's finest courtesans. I myself will accompany mighty Aldos the Strategeon. And of course Marius Portius is thine, My Queen."
"What of the lesser officers and men who will not be at the banquet?" Fanura asked.
"The women of the city have been informed, My Queen, and they are more than equal to that pleasant chore," Dolphia chuckled. "After all, we keep our husbands and brothers in happy subjugation and they KNOW our wiles. A few thousand foreign soldiers will be too happy finding out just how friendly Nurian girls are, to be troublesome that night, even without the Zuma we will infuse in their officers' wine."
"The Zuma, have we enough?" Fanura inquired.
"Enough and to spare," spoke up Munira, Dolphia's deputy. "The women of Azunia were so grateful for our assistance in putting down the revolt of their men that they have supplied us with seventeen cartloads of the finest leaf. They would send an army to thy aid, but beg leave for, in accomplishing their victory, most of their fighting maidens are newly with child. No matter, thy temple priestesses even now are extracting the essence. In two days hence we shall have enough Zuma to tame several barbarian armies," the young woman concluded proudly.
Gassara stepped forward scowling. Towering over the priestess and even the Queen, the Captain of the guard commanded respect. "Do not underestimate these barbarians, my sisters. They are not soft and weak-minded like our Nurian men nor naïve as the Thrussians and the Sirtaphs. Their custom is to take pleasure from women, not allow themselves to be pleasured. And my spies tell me of a practice that makes them not so easy prey. Corthon men refuse to drink from a woman's self. Nor will they take a nipple into the mouth. They believe this to be penetration by the woman of the man and that a man must never be penetrated. So, my sisters, we will not be able to drug them with the Zuma-rich fluids of our sex," Gassara concluded.
"This is grave news, My Queen," spoke Dolphia. "The Zuma in wine makes a man's mind soft and open to a woman's words, but only his repeated worship at her temple makes him fully her own."
"Fear not, my sisters," Fanura replied. "These Corthons have never met women like us. What a man thinks and believes in the cool bright air of Cortho, may be very different in the warm thick vapors of a Nurian bedchamber. Somehow I doubt the Corthons will be able to distinguish between taking their pleasure and having it poured into them, when we make the semen to boil up in their loins. As for the city women, give each a pitcher of wine for her 'guest.' It will do our work even though the women understand not the power of Zuma. Go now and adorn yourselves, my lovelies. Let us make our visitors glad they have come before they regret it -- if they ever do," she added, to the gathered women's giggles.
Dressed in the finest of diaphanous silks that hid nothing of her full breasts and large dark nipples, Queen Fanura had watched the triumphant entrance of Marius and his officer into the palace precincts. Now, siting proudly upright she faced the Emperor as he slowly approached her portable throne. Her eyes fell on his narrow hips and broad shoulders. Glancing over at Dolphia, she smiled, wondering if the High priestess was making a similar appraisal of the rugged Strategeon. She could not refrain from comparing these beautiful male specimens to the thin and weak nobles of her court. She noticed Marius's large powerful hands and feet. "Large feet, large ..." she mused. None of the men in her kingdom, delightful as they were with their practiced mouth worship, measured up.
Before handing the realm over, her mother had advised Fanura to bear a daughter as heir as soon as possible. Fanura, however refused to allow some effete son of a scheming baronesses who coveted her crown, to make her fat with child. "I may use this light-skinned barbarian as thou didst the Scythian ambassador to beget me, Mother," she caught herself thinking. "And they may serve my priestesses, as well." Fanura knew that Dolphia's and Munira's almost constant night play was more frustration with the inadequacies of their pretty-boy mates than real predilection for women on their part. Indeed, the extended visit of the barbarian army could be "very fruitful." Rising to meet him, Fanura was aware of a growing wetness between her legs.
"... In sum, My Lord Emperor, I, Fanura of Nuria welcome thee and thy men to our city," Fanura spoke evenly to the guests of the banquet. "Even thought we cannot conclude any treaty or conduct high business of state with ye during Thirteenth Moon Festival, we wish ye to remain as our guests throughout the joyous celebrations. In honor of the happy visit of thy Imperial Majesty we offer ye the toast of 'Pearls before Wine.' Hail!"
At her word, the woman at each officer's side reached to her necklace and quickly removed one of the many pearls that adorned her neck. Fanura did the same and before the astonished eyes of Marius dropped the shining globe into his wine flagon as did all the other women. "What hast thou done, Queen Fanura?" Marius asked. "The pearls will dissolve in the wine; their beauty lost to the world for ever."
"Not lost, My Lord Emperor, transformed to further thy glory and that of thy warriors," she replied. "And to cover the first taste of the Zuma," she discretely refrained from adding. After a few droughts, the tongue no longer detected the bitterness of the essence. "Now, let the banquet begin!" Fanura smiled, raising her goblet in toast.
The feast proceeded as planned with platter after platter of delicacies, the flesh of exotic animals, fruits unknown in Cortho's colder climes, seafood from Nuria's southern coasts. Each dish was prepared with just a little more spice than necessary and Marius and his men partook liberally of the wine that never ran short. If they had been more attentive, they would have noticed that their flagons were refilled from different pitchers than those of their smiling tablemates.
But the men's attention was already elsewhere. Except for camp followers, none of the men had been with a woman in weeks, certainly none like the exotic beauties now at their side: high cheekbones, gleaming ebony-smooth skin, hair that hung in hundred of tiny plaits interwoven with silver and copper-hue threads. The eyes of the men were assaulted with images of voluptuous black bodies, breasts that pushed against the flimsy upper body ties, bare waspish waists, and ample womanly hips. Though Dolphia and Fanura were more discrete, they noticed that Munira had already drawn the young aide-de-camp's hands to her rounded breasts and close-trimmed cunt. Fanura moistened to see how easily the youth was snared, how already he wore the adoring gaze of a Nurian pussy-slave.
"The hospitality of Thy Highness surpasses even the fame of thy beauty," Marius said as he toasted Fanura yet again.
"My Lord is too kind to the Queen of a small people," Fanura replied with downcast eyes, but she read in Marius's gaze more that empty flattery. He was smitten. As well he should be. Her garment was of sheerest silk and wound so as to display her ample breasts. After the first goblet of the drugged wine, the Emperor's eyes seldom traveled far from those dark mounds except to gaze deeply into her darker eyes. Fanura noticed a massive bulge beginning to show itself beneath his tunic. That was good; she had plans for it. "By the time I finish softening it, Marius thou willst have taken the first steps to thy certain enslavement" she mused.
It had been a day of surprises for the tired Emperor. Fanura smiled, remembering her powerful visitor's amazement when he first saw her. Apparently, his intelligence had not informed him to expect a woman of her youth and beauty -- and black! Nor was he prepared to be greeted in capitaline Corthon without the whistled "s" that betrayed the Emperor's own provincial origin. The luxury of the banquet brought further amazement and she watched with amusement as Marius's face reflected the gradual shift from arrogance to mere contempt, to acceptance, to admiration, and now fascination with his scantily-clad hostess.
As the night wore on, a large torch-fire was lighted in the center of the couches and lust-inducing incense was thrown onto the coals. Marius and his men reclined into warm arms and soft breasts around the circle and pretty, flirty serving girls continued to bring around plates of food and flagons of wine. Aldos's captains, vanquished by the incense and visions of large, soft breasts, already lay in the arms of their diner partners who stroked their manhood and whispered promises of a night of passion. The torch burned down and a pounding drumbeat gradually grew louder. The serving women were now bringing more drink than food and their clothing had grown skimpier. Large unencumbered breasts dangled in front of the men's eyes as the women leaned down to refill their drinks. The loincloths barely covered their provocative little pussies. And when a girl stood close enough to a seated man, he couldn't avoid smelling a cunt in heat.
Fanura saw her women titter and whisper to their happy guests, making sure their wineglasses remained filled. The men grew tipsy and boisterous as their tablemates teased them. Fanura smiled, seeing Aldos besieged by Dolphia's kisses, the lush body she pressed against him, and the wordless invitation to open her tie and fondle her breasts. Fanura wondered if the experienced warrior even realized he was under attack, that the beautiful woman at was using her voluptuous body as a weapon to enflame his passion, cloud his mind and overturn his will. She could almost see the Strategeon relax, no longer resisting the charms of the High Priestess. His reason was helpless against desire for the woman and in a moment of weakness the warrior allowed a small soft hand to invade his tunic and take possession of his manhood.
A stronger man than Marius, if there were one, might have seen it, too, and detected the danger as one by one his men were conquered by the charms of the women they had come to conquer. But Marius saw nothing save Fanura's gleaming breasts and flashing eyes as she wove her own spell around him.
Seeing that all was in readiness, Fanura gave the signal. Suddenly silence welled up like a cobra rising from its basket. At the sound of a gong, each man's companion leapt into the circle and positioned herself in front of her partner. Talking, laughing, and ribald remarks ceased as a temple priestess began to writhe slowly before each man, her movements in time with the imperceptibly accelerating drum.
The officers were riveted by the swaying of the women's hips and bouncing breasts, none more than Marius himself by the beautiful Fanura. She was taller and a little older than the others. But what she lacked in youth, she made up in a steamy sultriness. Like the others, she had a bright silver disk dangling from her neck in front of her large round tits. Marius could not take his eyes off of those tits and so he stared too, at the shining, flashing disk.
As the dance accelerated, each woman inched closer to her prey, forcing him to look up at an uncomfortable angle at those wonderfully round, bouncing boobs. The drum was louder now, as well as faster, and filled the ears of the transfixed men as the flashing disks filled their eyes. Slowly, Marius and his men were falling into the power of the Queen and her court.
Now the drum grew still louder and the rhythm more frenetic. The dancers ground their hips in the faces of the men whose stares had become glassy, their bright blue eyes growing dim. Equally noticeable were their hands. Quite unconsciously, the men had begun to slowly stoke their rigid cocks. Suddenly the drum and the dancers stopped. The men hardly reacted, so deep was the spell they were under. Perfect!
Yet Fanura noticed a bit of light creep back into Marius's gaze. He was a strong man, a willful man, and not an easy man to tame, by the looks of it. Slowly, as if trying to awake from a dream, he began to look around him. The priestess-dancers had fallen on his entranced comrades. Even mighty Aldos had succumbed, lying cradled in the arms of the busty Dolphia, mindlessly nursing her firm breast, his eyes closed in a docile, beatific smile as she stroked his penis preparing to mount him. His own aide-de-camp's head was thrown back as he sucked the pussy of Munira who kneeled over him, slowly jacking him off. Two others -- Marius couldn't see who in the dim torchlight -- were lying with their tunics up around their waists, their heads lolling, as two smirking women methodically rode them toward orgasm.
Like a lonely, cornered animal, Marius instinctively sensed the danger and poised for battle. Fanura looked down at him and saw his partially successful efforts to throw off her spell. Her nostrils flared to think of the powerful mind as well as body that soon would be hers. Immediately, she stepped forward, dropped her skirt, and thrust her crotch in his face.
The scent of the hot Nurian pussy of the young Queen must have hit Marius with the force of an assagai. Fanura watched Marius fight the powerful aroma of her rank, dripping love slit. Marius was no longer looking around at his vanquished followers; he was staring straight ahead, perhaps unwillingly, straight into the wet, bushy pussy in front of his eyes. Fanura looked down at the big man, aroused but amused. She could see the foreigner's resolve weakening as her body worked it's enervating magic on his brain and loins. "Look long, Marius," she thought. "Breathe deep of my musk and let it dissolve your will. Taste me and yield." Little by little she saw the helpless warrior overcome by the one instinct that could overpower both the anger that lead to resistance and the fear that lead to flight: lust. "Do mot resist, My Emperor. You thirst for me. Drink," she commanded.
In a desperate effort as if to ward off the enchantment, Marius brought up his hands, as if to shield his eyes from the bewitching sight before him, as if to push away the tempting vision that held him fast. He stretched them forth and -- with a lunge -- seized Fanura's round ass and buried his face in her warm womanhood.
A shout of acclaim went up from the watching women as the barbarian leader succumbed at last to the wiles of their Queen. His bravery, his intelligence, his iron will were useless against the lust that melted his judgment and undermined his resolve. The Queen allowed the slavering man to fill his mouth and nose with her lust-inducing juices for several long minutes, then dropped them both to the couch placed nearby for that purpose. As Marius lost himself between those dark, delectable thighs, nimble fingers removed his clothes and the Queen began stoking his hardened prick.
Long into the night Marius roared his joyful defeat.
At an early-morning meeting of her Council, Fanura looked around at six contented, if somewhat tired and disheveled women around the mahogany table. "Did all go as well as your faces tell me?" Fanura smirked.
"Indeed, My Queen," reported Dolphia. "The men are all still sleeping. A whisperer will be sent to each to fill his mind with lustful thoughts. She has at hand a sleeping potion if her charge should stir. No man will leave our beds until he is our mindless slave."
"No, Dolphia. I do not desire that they be taken thus. If our foreign guests disappear into our palace too suddenly, the remaining troops may become restless. Remember, our sisters in the city can only entertain the army. They are not skilled in the use of Zuma and we cannot let them use it in the powerful mixtures as we do. It can be many months before the soldiers are so besotted with weak Zuma and soft bodies as no longer to prove dangerous to us."
"What then wouldst thou have us do, My Queen?" Dolphia frowned. "Our spell upon them is well begun. Shall we now allow our captives to slip from between our fingers -- and our wet thighs?" Dolphia added with a chuckle.
"Nay, my clever minions," Fanura replied with a smile. "Our new foreign friends will not escape from our skilled hands nor our lusty loins. It is a foolish fisherman who pulls hard on the line when the fish has just begun to nibble. Play with thy catch until thy tender hook is set deep into his mind. For now allow him to awake each morning, but with only foggy memories of a night of unspeakably intense pleasure. I trust ye had no difficulty with that 'chore.'"
"It is even as thou sayest!" Munira blurted out causing the older women to giggle at her enthusiasm. "Lucas may be a barbarian, but he is skilled in wielding his manly weapon. I have never passed such a night. He brought me unto a woman's pleasure nigh unto a dozen times."
"'Lucas' is it?" Fanura teased her young companion. "Methinks were it not for the Zuma in the drink of the Emperor's aide-de-camp, thou wouldst be in HIS thrall." Munira blushed and the other women tittered before Fanura continued. "'Tis well, Munira. Cortho is our enemy, not thy Lucas or any man who lies in our beds. Take thy pleasure from the youth. Thy sisters did the same. Their quarters are not so far from mind that I did not hear THEIR joyous cries last night." Fanura looked around grinning at the other women whose embarrassed silence confirmed her words. "I did even so with the Emperor. His weapon is strong and thick, but fortunately I have a sheath that is the equal of it." All the women smiled and nodded.