Dutchess of the End

The days that followed had been the best of the expedition thus far. I made love to Stephanie. Really made love. Not just the slow-moving, sensual, caring love that we’d shared after nights of romance under the stars, but actual love. I wanted her to be happy, and that realisation filled me with thrill. I could give and receive in kind, we could share in everything, I had someone to call my own and to be owned in turn. She was my Prince, my King. It had taken months of constant contact with her for me to accept it. There was something about her that made me want to be with her. Not just her title- though without it I’ll admit this never would have happened- but her playfulness, her easygoing attitude, her love of women’s bodies that bordered on addiction, it all coalesced into one beautiful blonde package I had never been more proud to call my own.

 

Prinna’s and Alana’s relationship had flourished as well. They’d been using Stephanie’s wagon to enjoy one another’s company ever since it had been allowed. Not just for physical intimacy, I later found out, but the two had hours and hours of deep conversations that led to a bond tighter than anything I’d ever seen of a couple dating for such a short time.

 

“Hey, Carla?” Alana had come up to me one afternoon on a day spent riding in front of the caravan. The Tilajn encampment was but four or five days away according to Renai’s account.

 

“Nice to see you up here again.” I said. If not for the extra undue burden it would cause to the beast I rode, Stephanie would have been seated in front of me. However on a horse less than a metre to my right, she laughed loudly. It had been no secret that Prinna and Alana had been talking and fucking throughout the journey. Not when their screams of pleasure could be heard by all.

 

“Can we talk? Alone?” Alana asked. I nodded, and bid my horse to transition from a trot to a gallop, giving Stephanie a quick wave of goodbye. I slowed once we were a good distance away, at least out of earshot if not more. Alana followed close behind me, keeping pace with me as though she had some experience riding. I didn’t question it.

 

“What’s this about?” I asked.

 

“Me and Prinna have been talking, and we think it might be good for us to try the Proja’s form of love.” She said.

 

“You want to include other women in your relationship?”

 

“With my impending position in Stephanie’s harem and Prinna’s curiosity in the matter due to her sister, we think it might be for the best.”

 

“It won’t be for years until Stephanie is King. Not until-”

 

“Not until the birth of her firstborn, I know.” Alana said. “But you know how she is.”

 

“I do.” I said with a sigh. I hadn’t talked with her much on the matters of children. I knew she wanted them, and I knew she’d be a good Sire. Past that, I only had her experience in the conception procedures to base that on. “She’ll be King within a year of our wedding if she has her way.”

 

“Sooner than that, I’d reckon.” Alana said. My head snapped towards her.

 

“In what way?”

 

“Wait, this is about me.”

 

“What do you know?” I demanded.

 

“Nothing! I know nothing save for the proclivities of your betrothed and the eager desire of her tongue!” Alana said, and my tension relaxed somewhat, nodding.

 

“Is that all?”

 

“Yes, Carla, that’s all, I swear!”

 

“Right.” I said. For the moment, I chose to believe her. “As for your plight, if you’re considering folding other women into your embrace, what of the girls that joined us earlier? Renli and Fiona are younger than us, but they’re eager in their own ways.”

 

“What make you suggest them?”

 

“Foreign pussy is an alluring, mysterious driving force. They’d be eager to make you happy.” I said. I turned to look at the caravan behind us. Nothing of note was happening, fortunately.

 

“What about Renai?”

 

“What about her?”

 

“She lusts for Prinna’s body, and enjoys our company.” Alana said. I nodded. It seemed so easy. Renai was already of the Proja, she would be perfect for it.

 

“Then what’s the issue?”

 

“Renai is married.”

 

“To a woman with ten other wives.” I said. “Is there no way to circumvent that?”

 

“There are multiple.” Alana nodded slowly, speaking as though a myriad of calculations were happening behind her eyes. “They all pose problems, though.”

 

“Enlighten me.” I said.

 

“Renai married her wife in order to be with her wives.” Alana said.

 

“Doesn’t sound like much of a problem, there’s plenty of willing women here.”

 

“Every night they made love. All eleven of them. Every night.”

 

“Again, I see no issue.”

 

“The issue comes with her ravenous desire for pussy. Just the two of us couldn’t satisfy her. If we courted her we’d both feel inadequate in that regard.” I offered an explanation of Prinna’s body being enough to satisfy her, and in failing that, Stephanie could find women willing to supply what was needed. Alana nodded at that, and seemed appreciative. “We could try that. Have parties like what Stephanie hosted and such.”

 

“I feel as though I’m not nearly as interested in women as everybody around me is.” I said, shrugging. “Have your parties, satisfy your side piece, I’m sure you’ll have a good time.”

 

“I think it’s Stephanie. I think she’s bringing it out of all of us.” Alana said. I thought about the idea for a moment, and then nodded, agreeing.

 

“I’ve had more sex in the last three months than my entire life combined.” I said. Alana laughed.

 

“That’s what I mean. Thanks Carla, big help.” Alana said. I hadn’t solved her problem of transferring to the Proja Tribe, but my efforts earned me a kiss on the lips and a wink before she trotted her horse back to the caravan.

 

That night, after camp was set up and the bonfire in full force, I pulled two women to the side to speak with me. They were the Archivists Hilda and Gertrude. Neither were High Archivists, the only one I’d seen since leaving Castle Telbud had been Penelope, and even she hadn’t been travelling with us.

 

“Yes, Grand Archivist?” The Archivist Hilda asked. She was a woman in her late thirties with a tanned face and long blonde hair, head and shoulders taller than me.

 

“I need some advice.” I said.

 

“The Grand Archivist coming to us for advice? You’re reputation crumbles, it seems.” Gertrude was a middle-aged woman with black hair laced with streaks of silver. Wide brown eyes and a welcoming smile accompanied the words as we sat on the outer edges of the night’s festivities.

 

“That’s my issue exactly.” I said. “I was always that straight-laced chick who would sooner correct you on a minor infraction than compliment the major good done. I was reserved, almost a recluse. I’m changing and I don’t know why. I’ve walked around the camp topless, with my body exposed for whoever could catch a glimpse. I’m having damn orgies with Stephanie and enjoying it. You two have experienced more than anybody else here that I can trust. What…”

 

“What do you do?” Gertrude asked, and I nodded. “There’s nothing to do. You’re in love, love changes a woman, Grand Archivist. It makes you more open, happier, more carefree.”

 

“Can I afford those eccentricities? I have an important job in the government.” I said. The air was cold around us, I could see puffs of crystalline smoke form with each breath of the three of us. We sat close, though not excessively so.

 

“Does not the King do the same?” Hilda asked. When I replied in the affirmative, she kept going. “If the King sees fit to show off her body to her court, then why can’t you?”

 

“I…” I thought about it for a long moment, the two women letting me contemplate in as much silence as we could gain without wandering into the frozen Hinterwastes. “Because I’m not the King. Because the King is not bound to the law as we are. Are there not safeguards preventing sexual inappropriateness while at work? If I’m running around naked would those laws not apply to me?”

 

“Who has complained of seeing your chest, Grand Archivist?” Gertrude asked.

 

“Certainly not I,” Hilda said with a laugh. “You are very gifted in that department.”

 

“You’re proving my point.” I said.

 

“And you, ours.” Gertrude said back. “Growing up in Castle Wicsey leaves one isolated from the world. The swamps of Wicsey mean any communication from the rest of the country is difficult, yes? So then, Lady Carla of Wicsey would never know just how freely women showcase their bodies in Castle Telbud.”

 

“Yet I have lived there for seventeen years. I’ve seen less of this than you purport.” I said.

 

“You have lived there, Grand Archivist, longer than I, but you have not seen these things. Permission to speak freely?” Hilda asked. I gave the okay, and she continued. “You spent your days alone in libraries and offices. Hardly the places where women go to expose themselves. You took your meals alone, or with a maid. You slept in your bedchambers. Even as you became a woman your physical needs were cared for alone. Were they not, I would have heard rumours of conquest.”

 

“Is life truly so full of debauchery?” I asked. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Right under my nose?

 

“Why do you think Telbud has massive vineyards known the world over? It’s not just for consumption, Grand Archivist.” Gertrude said. I rolled my eyes, finding myself disappointed in women everywhere.

 

“You do not care for physical pleasure as most do. You partake, but it does not consume you as it consumes the Princess, as it consumes Lady Fiona. She did not abandon her Dutchy to study. She did so to be with the Princess.”

 

“Fiona?” I asked, furrowing my brow. “She’s in love with Steph?”

 

“All it takes is one little wink to knock one’s life off-course. I should know.” Hilda said with a smile.

 

“I’ll have to keep a close eye on her, then.” I said.

 

“That won’t be necessary.”

 

“Fiona and Renli are an item now.” One of the women spoke, then the other. I couldn’t tell which. Thoughts of Stephanie being swept away from me by another freckled brunette filled me with a jealousy I’d never experienced before. It was short-lived, luckily.

 

“Those two?” I asked. “Then why do they lay with Stephanie still?”

 

“It is not forbidden. It is legal for a woman to take two wives. Uncommon, but certainly legal. You knew this, yes?” Gertrude asked. I did, but never thought about it much. I’d never encountered a woman with two wives before. Truthfully, the memory had slipped, not revealing itself back at Proja, only resurfacing now, when it were more relevant to my life. “It is becoming a trend. Groups of three or four women are marrying each other far more now than they ever have.”

 

“I’m the only woman alive who isn’t a slut.” I muttered.

 

“That may be so, but your Princess loves you and only you, Grand Archivist.” Gertrude said. “Everybody sees it. Fiona has accepted it and moved on, taking the consolation of her physical company.”

 

“Do our words satisfy you?” Hilda asked.

 

“No, but they give me an answer. Thank you.” I said. They both bowed lightly, as best they could while still sitting. Everybody is a Soall-damned slut, huh? I thought. An idea came to mind. One so outrageous I quashed it immediately. Seconds passed, the idea seemed more and more appealing. I didn’t fit in. Everything made sense, now. I was the outcast, the prude who didn’t understand the one thing that drove this world into the future: Women.

 

I understand now. I understand how to win the favour of the masses. I had been the stern, shrill taskmaster who was too uptight to do anything other than work. Now, I get it.

 

“Thank you, ladies. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some favour to curry with my employees.” I said. Despite the bitter cold, I stood up, pulled the red and gold robes over my head, tossing them onto the ground. I shivered instantly, but I knew the fire would help me. My undershirt and underpants came off quickly, leaving me bare as the day I was born. Both Hilda’s and Gertrude’s eyes widened, looking as though they could shatter with a stiff breeze.

 

“This is…” One of them started.

 

“Not what we expected, surely. But it would go a long way towards solving your problem.” The second woman to speak was Gertrude. I recognized her voice even after I turned around.

 

I walked, swaying my hips wide, my chest bouncing with every step I took, strutting proudly towards the fire. As I walked, conversations died around me, music stopped, and what had been a lively evening and a fun party had turned into a funeral of an affair.

 

“Well?” I asked, speaking as loudly as I could without screaming. “Look at me! This is me, this is what I am! I won’t hide from it! I won’t be the rebel I was! Eat, drink, fuck, and be merry with me!”

 

My words hung in the still air for a moment too long to still be comfortable. Then, as though a strong gust of wind hit my crew, they all roared at once. The noise filled my ears with joyous tones. The music started. Clapping, laughing, and singing abounded. I watched women strip themselves to join me in nudity. I walked over to one, kissing her, pulling her body close to mine. I didn’t know her name, I didn’t know what she was doing here. All I knew was that we were two women, grown and matured in a society that praised and lauded our kiss.

 

“What’s your name?” I asked her.

 

“Chloe, Grand Archivist.” She said. I took a look at her. The flames danced across her dirty blonde hair, her smooth skin, and deep blue eyes. Her face spoke of a youthful eagerness, though her body argued with a tone of maturity and experience. “I’m a year your senior, though you far outrank me.”

 

“Nonsense, Chloe. Tonight, we’re all equals!” I said. I knew none of our company was under eighteen. I knew each woman here was a ready and willing adult. I turned to the women Chloe had been sitting with. The three looked at me in varying stages of undress, one of their number looking to join me and Chloe in the cold baked warm by the roaring bonfire. “Get the wine. We’re nearly to Tilajn. All of it, if need be. Douse every Mark you see.”

 

“Yes ma’am!” All three said at once, laughing loudly as they raced to perform their duty. I turned back to Chloe, eyeing her chest for a moment. It wasn’t as large as mine, but that was normal for me. Large all the same, plenty of supple flesh to sink my hands and face into.

 

“Chloe, who do you serve?”

 

“The Archivist Emilia, Grand Archivist.” She said. Her voice was high-pitched and sweet, though I knew she would be swimming in a lake of lecherous thoughts.

 

“I’m to be Queen soon. I’ll need a harem of my own. One to rival my King’s. Give me your loyalty and I’ll reward you for your bravery tonight.”

 

“I’m yours.” Was all she said.

 

“Good.” I kissed her, my hands greedily touching her chest as she did the same to mine.

 

I understand now.

 

Women desired one another, and no force on this earth would be strong enough to break that need.