VIOLENT/NON-CONSENSUAL SEX WARNING/DISCLAIMER: It is a story portraying a Conqueror/slave relationship, so it would appear non-consensual at first. As for sexual violence, there are scenes (In parts 3 and 4) which are detailed and graphic, and may not suite some readers.

Other Disclaimers: See Part 1

SPECIAL THANKS : My humble most ardent gratitude to the excellent, most brilliant Beta reader nancyjean , whom I can't thank enough.

Comments & Feedback : MOST WELCOMED – The more you write me, the quicker I post.


Lord Conqueror of the Realm

Written by WarriorJudge


Part 12

Two nights after they had returned from Persia , Gabrielle was awoken in the Conqueror's bed by a ray of sunshine that invaded the Imperial bedchambers, and by two muffled sounds coming from an outer chamber. She walked tentatively towards the door barefoot, so as not to make a sound and let her presence be known. She squatted down and pressed her eye to the keyhole. In the Conqueror's study, she had seen her Master standing next to her spacious luxurious desk, in full regalia, with her hands clasped tightly behind her back.

“Phillipon's son, the one who fancies men, general…” the Conqueror's inquired.

“He was stationed with the infantry, first line of attack, as your Majesty ordered. He died on the battlefield.”

Gabrielle was stunned to hear that her second owner was deliberately ordered to be placed in harm's way by the Conqueror. She wasn't sure as to how she should feel upon learning of his untimely death. She wasn't glad and didn't gloat. If anything, in a weird sort of way, she felt sorry for her young owner. Sorry that he had been unfortunate enough to have owned a body slave, who was later owned by a possessive Master such as hers, who was powerful enough to orchestrate his death. People didn't name her Lord ‘the Destroyer of Nations', for nothing.

“Was Phillipon notified that his son was killed on the battlefield, general?” the Conqueror asked and threw a glance outside the window.

“That's another misfortune that has befallen upon the family, Majesty…Phillipon was found dead last night, not twenty feet away from his villa.”

“Is that so?”

To Gabrielle, the Conqueror sounded disturbingly not surprised.

“He was murdered,” the general stated.

“Was he now?!”

The Conqueror sounded not the least bit astounded by the news, and when she turned to face the man with whom she was speaking, Gabrielle could see her Lord's icy cobalt eyes through the keyhole.

“Indeed, Majesty. His purse was missing and the local constable investigating the matter is in the belief that Phillipon was murdered during a robbery,” the general said and cleared his throat.

Gabrielle's mind raced back to the events of last night and was horrified when she realized that the previous night the Conqueror had arrived at the Imperial bedchamber not before the small hours of the night, which had been somewhat unusual, but she had thought nothing of it at the time.

“Oh? And what do you believe?” the Conqueror's cold eyes narrowed.

Gabrielle immediately detected the unmistakable danger in her Lord's voice.

“W…well…it is not for me to say…” he stammered and rubbed his sweaty palms over his trousers.

“I will not repeat my question,” the Conqueror informed him with a tone of voice that reminded him he was speaking to the Lord of the Realm.

“If robbery had been the motive, he wouldn't have been stabbed over forty times, Majesty. One stab to his guts would have sufficed,” he replied and distress was written across him.

“You may leave,” the Conqueror waved her hand at him, and the general seemed only too eager to leave her burdening presence. He turned on his heels and nearly trampled over himself as he made his way to the door. A thought crossed his mind. It was the same thought that crossed Gabrielle's mind exactly, the thought being, how fortunate it was that the Conqueror's body slave's list of previous owners had been short.


Since the return of the Conqueror from Persia, Gabrielle would spend her evenings and nights in the Conqueror's chambers, and each morning they went their separate ways, the Conqueror to rule her Empire and Gabrielle to mind the staff's young and to apprentice the healer.

One evening the Conqueror asked her slave about the circumstance which had landed her into a life of slavery.

"My sister Lila had taken ill with a rare disease. The village healer exhausted all his efforts to cure her and failed, so the county healer was brought to aid her. His fee was steep and my parents were destitute, so my father sold me to him in exchange for him saving my sister," Gabrielle answered with difficulty like she was talking about something she did not wish to remember.

"You must bear ill-feelings towards your father," the Conqueror said.

"Not at all, my Lord. Had he not sold me, my dear sister would have died. I would have sold myself to save her. My parents died two winters after I had been sold to the county healer. He didn't give me leave to attend their funeral. I haven't seen or heard from my beloved sister for over thirteen winters, ever since I was sold at twelve."


"The Lord Conqueror!" the ceremony master announced.

The Conqueror strode into the Great Hall. The noblemen, who had been waiting her arrival, ceased all conversations among themselves and bowed before her as the Conqueror made her way to her throne.

"What is on today's agenda, noblemen?" the Conqueror asked after she had seated herself.

"Lao-Ling, Princess of the house of Lao from the Kingdom of Chin, sent word that she is to arrive in Greece in two days time. As your Majesty knows, during the glorious and victorious campaign in Persia , her mother, Lao-Ma, passed away and her father is still in poor health," the nobleman Perous informed his Sovereign.

"Princess Lao-Ling is de facto the ruler of her domain," the Conqueror said.

"That is correct, Majesty," Perous confirmed. "She wishes an audience with your Majesty."

"Send a message to her. Tell her that I am honored to welcome her to the Realm and that it would please me if she would accept my invitation to enjoy my hospitality," the Conqueror said, then beckoned with her hand for Karpa the steward.

He approached the Conqueror's throne and bowed before her. "Make all the necessary arrangements," she ordered.

"Right away, Majesty," he bowed his head again.

"Now, is there anything else, noblemen?"


That evening after supper had been served in the Conqueror's chambers, Master and slave were leisurely immersed in the specious steamy Roman style bath, the Conqueror's back leaning against the bath's ivory marble wall and the slave's back against her Master's chest.

"In two days time Princess Lao-Ling from the Kingdom of Chin will be coming here to visit with me," the Conqueror said.

"I'm sure my Lord is very pleased," the slave replied, moving away from the Conqueror and swimming to the other side of the bath to reach for the bar of soap. She lathered her hands with soap and when a fine layer of foam appeared, she delved her fingers into her hair and tenderly moved them against her scalp.

The Conqueror leered at the apex of Gabrielle's supremely shaped breasts above the waterline, and in a moment of forgetfulness, the Conqueror said: "You will greet my guest with me."

"If I may, my Lord." Gabrielle felt the combination of both surprise and embarrassment within her.

"You may."

"It might disgrace my Lord being seen with me in public and in such elevated capacity."

The Conqueror said nothing.

When she finished bathing, Gabrielle immerged out of the bath, the water cascading down her body as if idolizing her.

From her vantage point, the Conqueror espied Gabrielle's sensual movement and the persistent droplets of water that clung to her nipples.

"There is no remedy," the Conqueror said eventually.

"With your permission, may I suggest my Lord would grant me my freedom," the slave said with bowed head. She couldn't tell where had such brave, almost brazen remark had come from.

"Don't be absurd, you are mine!" The Conqueror cut her off mid-sentence with a voice laden with ire and left the slave mute.

The slave waited a few moments to allow her Lord's wrath to pass.

"I apologize for making you angry, my Lord." The slave covered her body with a clean dry towel, and observed her Lord as she was exiting the bath.

When she felt her Master's arms engulfing her small frame, the slave went on to say: " Nothing on this earth could change what has already been established so profoundly over the seasons, that I belong to my Lord, and to my Lord alone always, least of all a piece of parchment stating my freedom. However, in terms of perception, for the world outside that piece of parchment is required, not to me, my Lord."

The Conqueror took Gabrielle's hand into her hers and led her to bed.

"I know I've rarely ever shown you any kindness over the years, even though it was well within my power to do so. I have denied you even the tiniest of graces, even a proper bed to lie in."

When they reached the Conqueror's bed, the slave allowed her towel to fall down her body and land on the floor.

"Please, f orgive my foolishness. My Lord needn't explain…" she said and lay on the bed and welcomed her Lord to join her with open suppliant arms.


"Princess Lao-Ling," announced the ceremony master and a petite woman entered the Great Hall.

As the young princess was walking with small steps towards the Conqueror's throne, the crowd of curious noblemen cleared a path for her and bowed before her.

Princess Lao-Ling was no more than twenty years of age. Her Royal gown was made with the finest of Chin's silk. Her complexion was as white as milk, her long smooth hair was as black as coal and her lips tiny and red like a rosebud.

"Princess Lao-Ling," the Conqueror gestured with her head.

"Your Majesty," the young royal curtsied.

"First, allow me to welcome you to the Realm and extend my sincere condolences. Your mother was a very fine lady and a great as well as a wise leader."

"Thank you, your Majesty," the princess replied.

"I have a gift for you," the Conqueror said and signaled one of her servants in waiting to approach.

The servant, who was carrying a small ornaments wooden chest, opened it and presented it to the Princess.

Inside, there was a marvelous necklace with Corinth 's finest rubies set in gold.

"It is exquisite, your Majesty, thank you. I see my mother's words regarding your Majesty's generosity and charm were well deserved," said the oriental princess.

"It is my pleasure. I was told that you wished for an audience with me. What can we do for you?"

"I have come before your Majesty to propose a marriage between the house of Lao and the Realm," replied the princess.

"A marriage between me and you," the Conqueror said, as if to confirm.

"Indeed, your Majesty."

"I am honored and I will consider your proposal, Princess Lao-Ling. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here as my guest and join my table at the banquet in your honor this evening."

"Thank you, your Majesty," the Princess curtsied before leaving the Conqueror's presence to be shown to her quarters.

After she left, the Conqueror turned to the noblemen.

"Well, Perous, Marton… and the lot of you, what do you think?" the Conqueror demanded to know.

"She is very rich, your Majesty. She is young and beautiful, and by all accounts a maiden still," nobleman Marton was the first to offer his opinion.

"Indeed, Majesty," nobleman Perous joined nobleman Marton, "We are very fortunate. The Princess has many suitors."

"I was ambushed!!" the Conqueror's voice roared and echoed throughout the Great Hall. "What are all of you idlers, useless scroungers good for, then? You should have learned of her intentions before she ever set foot in Greece . It is your duty to keep me well informed."

The noblemen kept their heads down as their Sovereign admonished them.

"We apologize before your Majesty for our gross incompetence. However, we recommend your Majesty consider marrying the young princess from the house of Lao," said nobleman Marton. "Your subjects are concerned with your Majesty's succession, and are anxious for your Majesty to produce an issue."

"I have no appetite for her," the Conqueror rejected their advice.

"We understand that your Majesty has better appetite for the little body slave, but surely Princess Lao-Ling is by far better suited for you Majesty," argued nobleman Perous, foolishly letting his Sovereign be better aware of the fact that little is kept clandestine in the Realm.

The Conqueror grabbed him by the lapel of his fancy coat, and hissed between her teeth, "I urge you sir, to tread very lightly from now on."

"Your Majesty could still keep the slave girl as a mistress. It should not pose any impediment to the marriage… On the contrary, it is to be expected," nobleman Marton tried to appease his Sovereign.

"A slave,” the Conqueror exclaimed then paused, “M y slave has nothing to do with it… Still, she obtains grace and favor in my sight, " she continued and returned to sit on her throne.

"She will forever remain in our eyes as nothing more than a body slave of low breeding," said nobleman Perous.

"I am of 'low breeding', and you owe the life of your son and heir to that body slave. She healed his broken leg some years ago when he had fallen off a fence, you feebleminded ingrate. You may leave my sight now and you will be stripped of your fortune and power which I bestowed upon you forthwith."

He bowed before the Conqueror and left the Great Hall.

"With all due respect, your Majesty, marriage to the house of Lao brings with it great fortune, the dowry alone…" said nobleman Marton.

"So I am to submit my will and inclinations for the benefit of my own Realm, does it sound reasonable to you all?"

There was silence, and as a last effort, nobleman Marton said, “Majesty… the slave…”

The last of the peasants in the Realm is free to choose his wife and I am being dictated to. Am I not Conqueror of this Realm?!” The Conqueror was livid. “ I shall show you will! I shall free the slave girl and make her a citizen and a Lady of this Realm, and then I shall marry her, making her your Queen. We are to be married in a fortnight. Your presence, noblemen, is demanded. Should you fail to appear, I would consider it a slight against me." The Conqueror stood up abruptly and strode out of the Great Hall to ready herself for the banquet, as her stumped subjects bowed before her.

After she had had supper in the kitchen, Gabrielle retired to her chamber. While she was reading a volume she had borrowed from the Imperial library, her thoughts began to wander to the princess currently visiting with her Lord. Her imagination presented her with possible images as to the young heiress to the house of Lao' appearance and mannerisms. She tried to push those thoughts away and focus her attention back to the scrolls she was trying to read, but for some reason unrelenting thoughts of the young oriental princess kept finding themselves back into her mind and wouldn't let her alone.

She realized the princess's presence in the palace bothered, even troubled her. She had reached a point where she realized there was no use going on pretending to read and her mind was made to go and catch a glimpse of the princess.

When Gabrielle was nearing the Great Hall, music reached her ears. She peeked into the Great Hall and when she was confidant she wouldn't be noticed, she moved quickly to hide behind one of the pillars close to the entrance.

From her hiding place, she saw the young princess from a distance. She was dressed as a princess, to be sure, and the slave noticed the necklace around the princess's neck. She immediately recognized the Corinthian style, which left no doubt in her mind that the jewel had been a gift from her Lord. The princess carried herself with great dignity, grace and sophistication. The slave couldn't deny how beautiful and exotic the princess was. Noblemen and Ladies of the Realm were circling her and the princess masterfully gave her attention to all of them, cultivating and encouraging their own sense of self-importance. Everyone was paying her utmost respect and they all seemed to hold her in high regards. It was obvious that princess Loa-Ling had enjoyed all the advantages of a royal upbringing.

The slave saw the Conqueror stand up, step down from her throne and signal to the head musician.

Music suited for dancing commenced and the Conqueror offered her hand to the young princess, who seemed familiar with Greek culture and mastered the dancing moves and steps. At that moment, it occurred to the slave that she didn't know how to dance and how pathetic it was that a foreign woman had even this advantage over her.

The slave watched her Lord and the princess dancing together, their bodies moving together wonderfully. She witnessed the exchange of words between them, but on account of the distance, the music and the constant chatter in the Great Hall, she couldn't hear what they were saying. All she could see was the princess covering her small mouth as she was modestly laughing about something that the Conqueror had whispered in her ear.

As the slave slipped out of the Great Hall, she reckoned it would be best if she spent the night in her own chamber for she didn't wish to inconvenience her Lord should her Lord elect to entertain the princess in her Imperial bedchamber. As she walked through the corridors back to her chamber, she felt her heart beating slowly, heavily and painfully, as if it was about to cease at any moment, and she leaned against the corridor's wall to support herself. When she at last reached her small grey chamber, she landed onto her small pallet with a sorrow too great for tears. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was how preposterous and even outlandish it was that she, a mere slave, should feel what could best be described as jealousy towards her Master.

When the banquet was finally over, the Conqueror was left alone in the Great Hall with the princess.

"The banquet was yet another testament to your Majesty's generosity, and I am grateful," the princess said.

"It was well deserved, princess, and I wish to convey to you how deeply honored I truly am by your proposal. I have given it a great deal of consideration, but alas I must decline it," said the Conqueror.

"May I ask why, your Majesty?"

"I'm afraid it has to do with intricate internal politics in the Realm, dear princess," the Conqueror answered.

"Nothing to do with a certain slave, then, your Majesty," the astute princess smiled knowingly and had the upper hand catching the Conqueror off guard. "I mean no disrespect, your Majesty, but word of her stunning beauty and gentle heart has reached my kingdom. I make it my business to study my competition beforehand, just as your Majesty does before conquering new lands."

The Conqueror folded her arms over her chest. "You are your mother's daughter. She would have been proud of you. "

"With your permission, your Majesty, I should very much like to meet her," the princess said.

"Granted," replied the Conqueror.

"Thank you, your Majesty and good night."

"Good night, princess."


Gabrielle felt a pair of warm lips grazing her nape, then a thick wet tongue snaking sensually down her naked back. Gabrielle recognized the touch and scent of her Lord immediately and she clutched the sheets beneath her with both hands, readying herself for the pleasure to continue. She ignored her initial surprise that the Conqueror had come to her chamber, something the Conqueror has never done before.

”My Lord…” she moaned, "My gracious Lord," she whispered when she felt her Lord's dark mane covering her back like a blanket and prickling her skin.

“Wake up, Gabrielle, I have something to tell you,” the Conqueror said and seated herself on the small wooden stool next to her slave's pallet.

Gabrielle turned to lie on her back and observed her Master.

“The subject of a marriage between the Princess of the house of Lao and myself arose. Such union would be beneficiary to the Realm.”

The slave was snapped out of the haze of slumber and arousal and she moved to sit on her pallet and felt a sudden need to cover her body.

“Of course, my Lord. The princess is a fortunate woman, and my Lord could not have found a better match. The Princess is beautiful…”

"You've seen her…" It wasn't a question but a realization.

"Forgive your insignificant servant, my Lord. Curiosity got the better of me…" said the slave. " Will…" she began to ask but her voice trembled. She composed herself until upon her face the customary mask of a hollow expression was secured and impenetrable. " Will my Lord be needing my service still?" she asked.

"You will do me a great service and honor should you grant your consent to be my wife, and become Queen to my Realm," the Conqueror smiled.

For a moment the slave thought she was still dreaming. She moved to kneel at her Lord's feet. "My Lord," she sighed, at a loss for words. “I am unworthy of such tremendous honor. I vow to be a devoted and true wife to my Lord and a gracious Queen to my Lord's subjects,” the slave said and showered the Conqueror's knuckles with adoring kisses.

The Conqueror cupped her future wife's face in her hands. "First thing tomorrow morning I will have my secretary draw up a decree stating your freedom and another making you Lady of the Realm for me to sign. As a Lady, you will receive the isle of Crete ." The Conqueror's hands moved lower against Gabrielle's face and over her jaw line until they rested on top of her collar. She unbuckled the leather strip carrying her insignia and took the collar off from around Gabrielle's neck.

"My Lord is too generous," Gabrielle smiled with brilliant eyes and rubbed the skin of her neck where the collar had been, which was pale and a tad irritated. It hadn't been the honor, financial gain or power that made her heart leap with unimaginable happiness, not even the restoration of her freedom, but becoming her Lord's wife. She placed her hand over the Conqueror's hand, which was still holding the collar. "May I keep it, my Lord?" she asked.

The intrigued Conqueror raised an eyebrow. "You may," she eventually said and handed the collar over to Gabrielle. "I shall have the seamstresses design their finest creations for you to wear."

"Thank you, my Lord," the slave fought back tears.

"And Princess Lao-Ling requested an audience with you."

"I will be honored to meet with her, with your permission, my Lord."

"You must do as you wish," the Conqueror said, then added, "You must promise me something, my Lady." She smiled.

"Anything, my gracious Lord."

"That you never set foot in this chamber ever again," the Conqueror said and lifted Gabrielle in her arms.

Gabrielle threw her loving arms around the Conqueror's neck and embraced her as tightly as her strength allowed, "You have my word, my Lord."

The Conqueror took her future Queen to the Imperial bed.


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