Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents

Heron's Fan Fiction

The Conqueror, The Conquered

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DISCLAIMERS: Xena, Gabrielle, and Darphus belong to MCA/Universal/Renaissance. This is a not-for profit fan fiction. No copyright infringement is intended. The rest of the tale is mine with all copyrights thereto. VIOLENCE: Sexual & graphic: This story depicts scenes of violence and rape. NC-17. © P. Lord, July 1999. Feedback HeronW@AOL.com

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The Conqueror, The Conquered

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In the world of Armageddon Now, Xena the Conqueror teaches a harsh lesson in politics to an outspoken, naive Gabrielle.

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"Bring forth the prisoner," The harsh order came from General Darphus, standing at the top of the marble steps, to the right of the seated Conqueror. Xena's head nodded slightly under the golden headdress of phoenix wings holding back her glossy blue-black tresses. The Destroyer of Nations watched the proceedings from an intricately carved throne of polished mahogany. Her silk robe whispered of her conquests in the land of Chin. The silent hulking Nubian slaves with ostrich feather fans were from her Egypt; the tall red-haired axe-wielding kilted bodyguards were from her Britannia.

Xena gave a bored glance to the hillside adjacent to her city, at the human harvest on the trees of death. That was the ultimate punishment for the worst offenders of her laws. The only pity the crucified damned might have received would have been a spear thrust to the heart. That had stopped when she ordered a hidden archer to shoot the midnight bringer-of-mercy in the thigh. He too learned of crucifixion in an intimate lesson; he lasted nearly four days. No one was foolish enough to take up his task.

From the darkness of the holding cell, a prison guard pulled a twelve-year-old girl forward into the arms of another guard outside. The crowd kept their silence; there was only the sound of leather boots crunching into the ground. A third guard took up a pair of heavy bullwhips as the second dragged the barefoot child over the hard-packed courtyard and flung her at the base of the stairs. She groaned as her weakened body folded upon itself.

"What is her crime?" The Conqueror's voice was a throaty purr that carried over the assembly. Her heavy silken robe of gold and black was in stark contrast to the frayed gray tunic of the accused. The autumn air was chill on Xena's bare skin. The wide collar exposed her ivory shoulders and the tops of her full breasts if any thought to look in that manner. None did anymore after a few prying pairs of eyes were burned out of their foolish owners' heads. Now looks were respectful, fearful, downcast, unless otherwise ordered. The Conqueror was tall, beautiful and terrible.

"Theft, punishment is fifty lashes," announced the general with a smirk.

"You can't!" A young woman with long reddish blonde hair pushed past a guard who tried to hold her back. A second guard stepped forward and struck her a glancing blow on the temple with the hilt of his sword. She fell heavily by the cowering child.

"Put that one under arrest," Darphus growled.

The young woman raised her head with an effort, "Why? Because I spoke?"

The last two words were spit out in contempt for the Conqueror, Destroyer of Nations, and all she stood for. Xena's cobalt blue eyes snapped to the kneeling woman at the last word. The words were delivered in a low contralto that sent a tiny wave meandering down the ruler's spine.

"Inciting the people to revolt against the Conqueror is a crime," Darphus said in a smug tone.

Was this a spark among the ashen sheep Xena ruled? The girl just got herself a gash over her left eye for her misguided show of resistance. The Conqueror arose gracefully and descended the wide marble steps to the courtyard; this outspoken young woman intrigued her. She swept the assembled populace with her unforgiving gaze. Not one person in the crowd met her intense icy stare; they all looked at their feet. Except for this one.

"Get up," Xena ordered. She watched as pride overcame pain and the blonde staggered to her feet. The Conqueror roughly brushed a lock of the girl's tightly waved hair off her temple and ran her thumb over the soft coral lips that had spoken against her.

"Are you guilty?" Xena inquired with false gentleness, staring into sea-green eyes. The young woman jerked her head away from the meticulously manicured nails and callused fingers of a sword wielding hand, and looked fearlessly into cerulean eyes.

"Yes, I'm guilty. Of wanting freedom and dignity." Xena raised her eyebrows at this. "To have the right to live without fear of being silenced forever. To have a home free from soldiers barging in at any time, a farm not raided by uniformed looters, safety in the markets from the hands of your overzealous guards."

"What's your name?" Xena asked, as she watched the spirited blonde with some curiosity. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken so eloquently, so fervently, especially in that tone of voice.

"Gabrielle."

She left out any honorific while addressing the ruler of the known world. For that alone, the Conqueror might have her hung up, but Xena wondered how far this fledgling dissident would go. This peasant woman was quite lovely, despite her ragged blouse, patched skirt and bare feet.

"Tell me, Gabrielle. Why shouldn't I punish the little thief?"

"She's just a child. Your penalties will kill her."

"It's the first time she's been caught, but she's likely done it before. Second offense costs a hand." Darphus informed the blonde.

"You're not her mother, you don't even know her." Xena observed, "Why are you doing this?"

"Her family was killed by soldiers, their home and land confiscated. You didn't leave her much choice."

"I have to make order out of chaos. She alone is responsible for her actions. She'll pay the price." The Conqueror looked down at the small miscreant. The girl hung onto Gabrielle's waist, her face buried in her side.

"You would punish a child, a starving child, for stealing to live? Then punish me. I told her to steal." As Xena watched, the young woman stood defying her, her arms protectively about the accused waif.

Gabrielle's green eyes held questions, they asked from depths she had not known could exist. They saw a woman, not a ruler. In her naivete, she demanded an equality that Xena could ascend to her realm. Not one of wars and power, but of will and thought and care. This must be corrected immediately, personally.

"Very well. The child will not be harmed. Take her." A guard detached the child's arms from the young woman and ushered her aside. Xena's smile was predatory, "Remove your blouse."

"What?"

"I don't think your wardrobe is large enough to afford having your clothes shredded. So, either you take it off, or my guards will do it. The child will observe, maybe she'll even learn something."

Gabrielle pressed her lips together; she undid the bodice laces, staring at the tall dark ruler who watched her disrobe with the intensity of a fervent lover. The three hundred plus assortment of guards, citizens, slaves and others standing about could have been cows or shrubs for all that it mattered to Gabrielle. She was undressing before the most powerful person in the world. Xena's glance alone burned her beneath her skin; she knew what pain was coming but this scrutiny fired deep into her soul. She crossed her arms to opposite shoulders and slowly tugged at the fabric.

The raven-haired Conqueror watched as the blonde pulled the pale green blouse over her head. Gabrielle stopped, holding the draping cloth in front of her breasts for modesty, meeting the older woman's eyes. Suddenly she looked down, her face blushing, the tinge spread downward past her collarbones and further. Xena reached out and took the blouse from her, tossing the much washed and mended garment to the ground.

The view was magnificent: firm plush creamy swells, perfectly finished with the pale tips in a pinkish tan shade. The lighter hued dinar-sized aureoles framed her nipples that began hardening nicely, rising in the cold air. They begged to be touched, caressed and devoured but her sharp tongue precluded any more civilized encounter. The Conqueror preferred the spirited kind but so rarely had the opportunity to indulge. It was a shame Gabrielle couldn't have been more amenable, but then her type never was. More the pity, but pleasure has many faces.

Xena signaled; two guards came and took the young woman back a few steps between two posts. They bound her wrists tightly overhead, leaving her toes barely touching the ground. One man parted the red gold wealth of hair and lay the halves over in front of her shoulders. Stepping behind her, they uncoiled their whips.

"Fifty lashes for theft," announced Xena. She watched the blonde swallow hard. "And fifty more for lying." She spun about and ascended the stairs.

"But—" Gabrielle sought vainly to repeal the adamantine law of the Conqueror.

Xena stopped halfway up and turned back abruptly, "I'll listen if you beg for mercy. They'll stop at my behest. Then the rest of the punishment will be delivered to your little thief, as she deserves. Let's see if you have the courage of your convictions." She resumed climbing the steps, turned and sat, her regal robe flowing about her. "Begin."

Gabrielle shook her head, trying to deny the exorbitant penalty as hardened leather ripped through the air and cut into her tender flesh. She flinched, her full breasts jerking and bobbing with every application. Right and left the woven braids struck, overlapping each other in an interwoven pattern of anguish. Each stroke jarring her slender body, gasps became barely restrained moans. Gabrielle's pale skin beaded with perspiration but her sea green eyes never left the face of the Conqueror.

Xena's gaze in turn was riveted on the girl. Sweat from the agony beaded her face as she fought so hard to restrain her screams. If anything, the savage treatment made her even more beautiful. Her hands became small fists and the cords of her neck were taut with straining. Her strength of will belied the delicate form that sheltered it. High-pitched whimpers came from the flogged girl as the whips abraded deeper into her back. A leather tongue licked about her side and withdrew leaving a thin scarlet line inscribed on her silken skin writing the full commandments of the Conqueror on the flawless parchment of her flesh.

She could have been tied naked to the posts of Xena's bed, on her knees, her breasts heaving, elongated again, the nipples red and swollen, bite marks still visible on the milky curves. The Conqueror would kneel behind Gabrielle, her fingers drawing down the smooth muscles of her arms as they trembled in need together. Xena's fingers would slid over her finely delineated ribs and squeezed the bountiful mounds. Her right hand dipping lower, in and out of the hollow of her navel and down through the soft curls. Xena's left hand would come behind to cup a resilient globe, then below and up into the eye of the storm, liquid fire and blazing ice.

Xena's lips parted as the pressure built in her own hot core. Gabrielle's cries grew louder, still wordless. Now her eyes were tightly shut; every bit of will concentrated on not showing weakness, not risking the chance that an outcry would endanger the child. Little red droplets arced through the air to join more burgundy that speckled the stony ground around her feet. The two guards were breathing in stentorian tones at their task as their arms rose and fell; they were more than halfway done. This was twice as much more than the Conqueror had ever ordered for a prisoner.

The Conqueror wore nothing under her embroidered silk robe, and times like these were sweet to experience. She moved her knees forward and back alternately, imperceptibly, her sex rubbing over a hard raised ridged centerpiece in the seat of the throne that paralleled the arms. The delicious friction built in delightfully slow increments as the prisoner was punished. Her own familiar scent of arousal wafted into her nostrils.

Xena's blue eyes turned silvery as she pushed down harder on the ridge bringing herself to orgasm and the girl finally screamed her release of torment. Her lids half closed, the Conqueror regarded the beaten girl, shuddering and sobbing in her chains. Oh, she must have this one again, since the girl lived. A sly satisfied smile rested on the Conqueror's carmine lips. She rose and again went down to stand in front of the girl, slumped in her bindings.

"We can have this conversation again if you wish." Wet pain-filled green eyes looked up into cerulean ones. "And this will seem like a pleasant memory in comparison." Xena's lacquered fingernails scraped lightly over the blonde's hard pink nipples, bumping gently around the pebbled aureoles then pinching the sensitive tips tightly.

The girl inhaled sharply through her nostrils, then her eyes narrowed at the sharp musky aroma coming from the Conqueror.

"Oh, yes, Gabrielle. You have given me a gift, very well done, in fact. Writhing in your chains like that, your sweet moans. And how often have you danced under a lover's touch?"

"No. Never—"

Now the Conqueror's eyes turned hard like blue obsidian. "You lied to me once. Again, I see I must ferret out the truth." A nod of her head, the golden wings dipping slightly, the raptor closed in on its prey.

The two guards coiled their whips on their belts then came up to either side of the girl and lifted her legs out wide at angles to her body; she was still suspended by her wrists. The Conqueror pulled a curved long-handled dagger from the long sleeve of her robe. She inverted the steel and easily sliced through Gabrielle's faded skirt from stomach to the hem at mid-calf. Only the belt held it to her slender waist though Xena bared her golden triangle as she dropped the two cloth sides away.

Gabrielle twisted in a futile effort to escape the heavy hands that held her up, exposed to the Conqueror and everyone on the steps behind, guards, slaves, officials, eunuchs. Her back burned but her face was even hotter in this unbearable shame. Xena turned the knife around and pulled out its sheath from her other sleeve. She fastened it with a faint snap and held the handle up for the blonde's inspection.

"No! No—please!" Gabrielle's green eyes went wide as she recognized the ivory phallic shape, thicker and longer than any natural organ, ribbed with a rough short piece sticking out at an angle from the base.

"You'll never lie to me again, will you?" Xena smiled as she lowered the bulbous head and rubbed it between the blonde's labia, circling and pressing on her half-hidden bud.

"No! I swear! Please, don't!" The Conqueror pushed into her cleft and felt resistance. She pulled out and held the handle up, its end faintly damp.

"So you are a virgin. Then this shall mark you as mine, in recognition of your service to the Conqueror. I think you'll like it rough." Xena slid the handle around in the girl's curly hairs, then pushed down back and forth between her nether lips.

"No, anything, I beg you—”

"MINE!" Xena shoved in and up abruptly, filling the girl with the harsh passage, hissing as Gabrielle screamed with the penetration and tearing of her hymen. Now the ivory slid in and out with ease, lubricated with blood and her juices that oozed out despite her denial. Her back arched and the guards held on as the Conqueror claimed yet another subject. The coarsely angled piece rasped over Gabrielle's clitoris encouraging it to protrude and darken with the forced stimulation. The swelling pearl emerged from its hooded shelter as Xena slowly filled and emptied the girl's dark recesses. The glistening fluids ran out with each withdrawal, creeping like warm oil down the crease between her lower cheeks.

Xena was rather disappointed in herself, that she didn't have the forethought to bring the partner to this dagger. She made do with teasing about the blonde's puckered hole with her free hand. Her middle finger coated liberally with Gabrielle's essences, she invaded the second orifice with first her forefinger, then joined it with her middle finger, rooting deep inside.

The blonde screamed again but her hips began to grind for more contact against her will and Gabrielle sobbed as the intensity built with the outpouring of her sopping tunnel. She heard the squishing, sucking sound as the phallus was pulled out and groaned aloud as Xena slammed it into her repeatedly, scraping unmercifully in her tight walls. The Conqueror watched as the tremors started in the girl's thighs and she pressed down harder crushing the throbbing turgid red bump.

"I own you!" Xena whispered, her lips nearly touching Gabrielle's before a last great thrust and the orgasm ripped out from Gabrielle's throat in raw mindless shrieking.

"No— more!" The young woman wept as her crotch ground helplessly into the Conqueror's hand and the ivory handle. The spasms of the aftershocks shook her slight frame even more than the whipping did.

The Conqueror twisted the ivory shaft viciously and yanked it out of Gabrielle's bleeding center, the fingers withdrew from her anus that was bleeding as well from the sharp lacquered nails. The guards lowered the blonde's feet and unchained her. They held her upright, her head fallen to her breast, her legs bowed, unable to support her.

"Consider this a lesson in politics, Gabrielle." A strong feminine hand grasped the blonde's chin and forced her to look up into the Conqueror's icy gaze. "A living example leaves a much better impression."

"Yes, Conqueror," came out in the barest whisper from Gabrielle. Xena nodded and the guards let Gabrielle go, she collapsed on the ground, speckled with her own blood, curled upon herself, crying quietly. She was nicely broken. The Conqueror handed the red-slicked sheathed dagger to the soldier on the left.

"Have someone clean my knife," Xena's gold-sandaled foot nudged the red blonde head. "And get this garbage out of my courtyard." The Conqueror left the conquered.

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The End - 'The Conqueror, The Conquered' - by Heron

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