Bertrice Small: Captivated

"I thought men were not allowed within the city walls at night," he replied.

She smiled at him. "They are not but for lovers, and rank has its privileges, my princeling, as you well know."

The palace of the High Procuress was a gracious structure of creamy marble. Entering into its courtyard, Dagon saw the great pillars holding up the porch were of red-veined marble capped in gold, and the courtyard was filled with flowers. By the time he was taken to the bath, Zenaida's handmaidens had already broadcast forth the details of his manhood, and he was surrounded by an extraordinary number of women.

"Get away from him, you lascivious little demons," the bath mistress scolded the murmuring, pointing females. "He is the great lady's gift to the queen this very night, and must not be worn out by your enthusiastic licentiousness. Go along with you now. Shoo!"

Disappointed, the women departed.

"I hope he displeases her, and gets sent to the square for common pleasures," one girl said. "Then I'll ride that big stallion to a froth, by Suneva, I swear it!"

"You never rode any man to a froth, Gaia," came a voice, and the other women erupted into laughter.

The old bath mistress cackled. "They will carry on at the sight of a bulging manhood," she said bluntly. She stripped the linen from his loins, and stared. "By Suneva, they have not lied! I've bathed many a man in my life, but never have I seen a manhood this big! It is at least thirteen marks in length. Can it be fully sheathed within a lover?"

"It can," he replied.

"Ahhhhhhh!" the bath mistress said wistfully. "To be young again, or perhaps not even so young." She fondled him, shaking her head and sighing. Then, catching herself, she took up the tools of her trade, and began to bathe him, calling to her assistants to come and help her, for there was much to do. Dagon must be fed, and rested, too, before the evening came.

He was taken naked from the bath, given a solid meal, and then washed lightly again before being taken to a bed space to rest. He slept for several hours before being gently awakened. He was clothed in a length of snow-white linen which was artfully wrapped and draped about his loins, and a twisted golden torque was fitted about his thick neck. Gilded leather sandals were placed upon his big feet. Zenaida herself brushed his thick dark hair with sandalwood oil, and then tied his locks back with a thin gold cord. She ran her hands over his naked shoulders, turned him about, and ran them over his broad chest.

"You are beautiful," she told him with a sigh. "Keep your wits about you, my princeling, and remember all I have told you. Ah, to be thirty years younger!" Then she turned, and he followed her.

"We are walking?" he asked the High Procuress.

"The queen's palace is but across the square," she replied.

They were permitted to pass into the royal residence without challenge, as Zenaida was known by all. Zenaida moved swiftly for a woman of her girth. He moved after her. A beautiful young woman who looked familiar to Dagon greeted them at one point. She was garbed as an officer of the guard.

"Good evening, my lady," the officer said.

"Good evening, Captain," the High Procuress responded. She turned to Dagon. "This is my middle daughter, Berenike, who is captain of the queen's personal guard."

Dagon bowed. "I greet you, Captain Berenike."

"He is magnificent," Berenike said to her mother, barely acknowledging Dagon. "Do you believe he will be successful?"

"It is in the hands of the goddess, my daughter," Zenaida answered. "Is she waiting? What has she been told?"

"Only that you have a gift for her," was the reply. Then the captain let her gaze wander to Dagon's crotch. "Let me see, Mother!" she begged girlishly. "Please!"

Zenaida chuckled. "You are incorrigible as always, Berenike." Then she delicately lifted the draped linen up so her daughter might see.

"Ohhhhh," Berenike sighed wistfully. She reached out, and caressed the great length of flesh.

Zenaida slapped her daughter's eager hands away. "It is a most sensitive organ, and easily aroused. I will not have him spoiled for the queen, Berenike. Shame on you!"

"You never brought me a gift like that," the young woman complained.

"He is a king's son, and only fit for the queen," the High Procuress replied. "We must go now. Straighten your clothing, Dagon!" she scolded him, as if he were responsible for all that had just taken place. "Come along now! I can see if I do not get you off of my hands soon you may cause a riot within these walls."

She hurried down the wide hallway again, her captive in her wake. They stopped before a great bronze double door. The warriors on duty flung open the portals so they might pass through.

"I hope to always have your friendship, lady," Dagon murmured low.

She turned for but a brief moment, and smiled at him. Then she rotated herself ahead again, bowed low before the throne in front of them, and said, "Hail, Kalida, Queen of Kava!"

Dagon allowed his eyes to look directly upon the queen for but a quick blink of the eye, and, in doing so, his heart was lost forever. Zenaida had said Kalida was beautiful, but never before in his entire life had the Prince of Aramas seen such an exquisite creature. He knew in that moment that he would do whatever he had to do to win her heart.

She wore a pleated, short-sleeved white gown with an open round neckline. Her pale golden hair with its silver lights was dressed in thick braids that were affixed atop her head like a crown. Her teardrop-shaped eyes were the color of emeralds, and matched the necklace of large stones about her slender neck. Her arms were filled with slim, bejeweled gold bangles, and on her feet were gold sandals.

"Is this the gift you have brought me, Zenaida?" she purred in a husky voice. "It lacks originality, I fear."

The High Procuress chuckled. "Nay, Majesty, I would not bring you just a man," she said. "This is Dagon, Prince of Aramas, his father's heir until he was betrayed by his twin brother, who, though the younger, always coveted the elder's place. I bought him for you with my own gold in the slave markets of Ramaskhan. He is unique. Remove your wrap, Dagon, and show the queen your assets," Zenaida concluded.

Standing unbowed, Dagon's fingers undid the linen cloth covering his loins, dropping it gracefully to the floor. Head up, he looked directly into Kalida's eyes, and almost jumped as the silent lightning passed between them. Then, clearly hearing her voiceless command, he unfocused his own eyes, but his head remained unbowed. He was, after all, a king's son.

Kalida swallowed back the gasp of surprise welling in her throat. She was the Queen of Kava, not some virgin gazing upon a manhood for the very first time. The truth, however, was that she had never seen anything like the penis now displayed before her. It was enormous; long and thick as it lay at ease upon its ebony bed of tightly bunched curls. About her, the women warriors who guarded her were just as openmouthed with their own amazement, and not just a little envious.

"Can something of that size actually function properly?" Kalida asked Zenaida. "We must have a demonstration here and now!"

"Trust me, Majesty, it is a very serviceable weapon that Dagon wields. My serving women will attest to it. They have spent the nights of our return journey, but for the last three, training this handsome young barbarian for your pleasure. Now he is yours, with my compliments."

"Berenike!" the queen called, and the captain of her guard stepped forward.

"Yes, Majesty?"

"You are the largest woman in the room. Arouse him, and let us see what this prince is made of before I take him into my household," the queen commanded.