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XXX Erotica For those who like or need more substance with their hot and naughty, I present to you the serial story of a slave no more. Alana is a house slave in the Crimson Palace, when she and nine others are chosen for the life a courtesan, a court whore, to serve the Loran Temple and the goals set for her and her kind for over a hundred-thousand years. A disturbing yet sensual adventure deep into the heart of the Blood Empire, and those concerned with the Skull Throne.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
The Courtesan - Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
The Courtesan - Part One, by Nikki Blood
XXX Erotica
For those who like or need more substance with their hot and naughty, I present to you the serial story of a slave no more.
Alana is a house slave in the Crimson Palace, when she and nine others are chosen for the life a courtesan, a court whore, to serve the Loran Temple and the goals set for her and her kind for over a hundred-thousand years.
A disturbing yet sensual adventure deep into the heart of the Blood Empire, and those concerned with the Skull Throne.
Novel and Cover Illustration Copyright © 2016 Nikki Blood. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the author is illegal. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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The Courtesan - Part One
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“Life is continuation,” Mistress Cali said, “yet life never assures a means of survival. Life is not fair, always a struggle of some sort, and if you were ever told otherwise . . .”
With those words my life as a house slave within the Crimson Palace was over, and my education as a court whore began. Only, there was more to my training than I could imagine. What I didn’t know then, Mistress Cali was interested in exceptional intelligence, as well as exceptional talent.
“Wealth and skill aid survival,” she continued, “but we, the female of the species, supply continuity. We do that in two ways.”
Mistress Cali then paused, allowing us, her ten female students, time to consider the intent behind her words. Then she asked Willow what was meant by her statement.
Willow was uncertain, I could see it in her eyes, but she had to say something.
“You are speaking about our possible children, Mistress.”
“Is that your full answer?” Mistress Cali returned.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Your answer is only half correct. Does anybody know, or think they grasp the full essence of my statement?”
Silence met her inquisitive gaze. A moment or three that wore at her patience.
“Do you understand what was said, Alana?”
“Our male children,” I replied, “the skills and knowledge we pass on, permitting them to prosper, Mistress.”
“Good enough,” she said. “The male children you tomorrow beget might sit at a Noble’s table, even if you will not. One of these male children may even sit on the Skull Throne itself, with the Blood Emperor soon to be fathering heirs. Consider that you are less concubines, and more the chains that hold this empire together. Your intelligence is paramount, and I will settle on nothing less than your best in all endeavors.”
Palace slaves were not permitted to breed, so we had never entertained such interesting concepts.
“If you succeed here,” Mistress Cali continued, “you will become courtesans. The true heart and soul of the empire. That is the training you will receive, beginning this very day. If you cannot master the basics, you will either rejoin the household staff without your tongue, or take your place alongside those who work the mines. After a certain point you fail the training, you will be put to death.”
With those words Mistress Cali stressed the seriousness of this venture, and we stood ready to pay our full attention.
“Now a choice needs to be made that is yours alone to make,” she added. “Leave now, and you may attend to your routine duties without consequences, or, you may stay. Know this: That after this one choice is made, there will be no turning back, with only me and my judgment to keep you with tongue in mouth, or alive.”
With that said she turned her back to us.
This moment was our only opportunity to survive with certainty. To rejoin the household, forever slaves. Nothing more, nothing less.
We girls looked at each other, examining the implications as we perceived them, but knew none would exit. Courtesans, as we understood them, earn their freedom, and enjoy superior status within the empire.
To stay wouldn’t be without considerable risk, and for my freedom, my only chance to become more than a slave, I was willing to take that risk.
As to why the palace laundry was a silent, foreboding place, and the men and women who worked there hesitant to meet our eyes, her statement answered those unasked questions.
Mistress Cali once again faced us, but her face did not betray her thoughts. She looked each of us in the eye, perhaps assessing our resolve.
“Men marry,” Mistress Cali said after several long moments, “and to be married is to have a faithful wife, one who attends to the needs of her house. A wife is also expected to attend her husband’s needs without question, but that is rarely true. Men can sometimes demand too much of a wife, and are quick to anger when denied. Men also grow bored with just one female in their lives, but can rarely govern two. There are rules for such things, and we are the keepers of those rules. We council harmony.”
Men’s eyes wandered, and they strayed like cats through back alleys. Men also enjoyed themselves as much as they enjoyed their women, releasing their seed indiscriminately, in whatever direction they happened to be pointing. As palace slaves we were not permitted to notice such things. See them, certainly, but not acknowledge them.
The ladies of the court were no better, for we knew of a few Noble’s wives who enjoyed the palace eunuchs whenever discretion allowed, knowing the palace eunuchs ingested large quantities of Saffara tea in order to perform as a man should, and satisfy.
It was dangerous for those wives to have another man’s child. If discovered to have birthed such, both mother and child would unceremoniously be put to death. Hence the usefulness of eunuchs, and Saffara tea.
“As far as the male of the species is concerned,” Mistress Cali said, “girls are considered suitable as wives when they begin menstruation. However, not all girls are emotionally ready to become wives. It is their interest in sex and children that ultimately determines marriageability. Whether they want to see a hard cock when being seduced, hold one firmly, stroke it, kiss it, or suck said cock and swallow the man’s seed, as expected by most men, but not by all. They must have an interest in caring for children as a mother should. These are the determining factors. Only girls who are emotionally ready, marry.”
Courtesans, I knew, were involved with these decisions, because their blessings were eagerly sought by Noble and peasant alike. Yet, I was now sure courtesans were more than just
