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 naΓ―ve 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.