The First Queen (Futanari Erotica Fairy Tales Book 8)

by Julie Law

  The First Queen

  (Futanari Erotica Fairy Tales #8)

  By

  Julie Law

  Copyright ©2014

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  “What news from the front?” Hatshepsut’s voice boomed through the palace’s halls, resonating amongst those present.

  The man prostrated before her hesitated, before raising his head slightly. He kept his eyes down, his posture respectful, but allowing her to gaze at his face.

  “Terrible news, my Queen, your husband the Pharaoh Thutmose II is slain.”

  Murmuring broke out amongst the witnesses, some of them starting to sob. It was all fake, Hatshepsut knew, a way to garner favor by showing how deeply depressed they were with their divine leader’s death.

  As if they hadn’t known he was dead for a while.

  The official messenger might only have arrived that day, but news had spread earlier, carried by messenger birds and faster couriers. The entire city had known the pharaoh was dead for days.

  Soon enough the vultures around Hatshepsut would start picking at her husband’s corpse, trying to steal everything they could.

  For one moment, Hatshepsut hesitated. Should she sob as well, show herself as the distressed wife, weak and unassuming?

  No, that wasn’t her; it wasn’t as if she didn’t feel her husband’s death, but now she needed to show herself as strong leader. Not as meek.

  “We will make my husband’s killers pay with their lives, with their wives and with their lands for this affront.” Her voice didn’t waver, and her message was loudly received by everyone gathered.

  Nobles, priests and priestesses, ambassadors from far lands and generals, merchants, all of them were in attendance for the daily royal audience, knowing today was a day of change. Most of them waited for a chance to better their own future prospects; some of those cheered as Hatshepsut spoke, trying to ingrain themselves into her good graces.

  Others were more discreet and lightly applauded. It was the ones who did nothing that Hatshepsut watched, those she would need to convince, or trample, during her claiming of the throne.

  And she would assume it – she wouldn’t let anyone take her birthright away from her once again – what her father had done before had been enough, giving her away as a bride to the new Pharaoh instead of naming her his heir.

  Hatshepsut let her eyes rove over those gathered one last time, before she rose from her seat. Almost immediately her female attendants fell in behind her, their eyes lowered.

  Nobody spoke as her little procession left the audience room, but someone joined her retinue, face lowered in respect for her queen.

  Hatshepsut didn’t miss the new presence and turned to face her after entering her wing of the palace. “Why does one priestess of Isis come to me in this time of grief? Are you here to offer me your condolences? Or perhaps you’re here to counsel me?”

  “Maybe I am, my queen, but nonetheless I would prefer our words to remain private.”

  Hatshepsut simply looked at her.

  Aya was one of the priestess of Isis, young yet powerful within her order, a great user of magic. Or parlor trick, as Hatshepsut knew they were. She hated this trapping of religion that contaminated her kingdom, but she wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

  The priestess was of noble birth, and it showed in her beauty. Hatshepsut let her eyes wander down Aya’s body, seeing large breasts, wide hips, and a fit body. She was quite sure the other woman wouldn’t have difficulties finding a husband, should she desire to leave the temple.

  For her to be here, now – it probably was a chance that Hatshepsut couldn’t let pass.

  “Leave us.” She said loudly, and her attendants left as quickly as possible, the two women remaining alone. “What do you want priestess?”

  Aya bowed once again. “I’m only here to offer my condolences, my lady, and assure you anything you need and I can provide, I will.”

  She didn’t seem to be lying, but Hatshepsut wondered. “And what have I done to deserve such enthusiastic support?” If the other woman was a snake it was better to keep her away, if Aya truly was ready to support her then so much the better.

  “You are the rightful heir my lady, as you were years ago. I just intend for the right person to assume the throne, the way it should be.” Aya humbly replied, lowering her eyes after looking right into Hatshepsut’s.

  The queen was intrigued. She sensed no deception in the other woman’s words, and the gaze of the priestess’s blue eyes made her feel … lusted after. She couldn’t help but let an eyebrow rise, she could work with that. The priestess was attractive enough; it wouldn’t be hard to flirt a little.

  Reaching forward she put a hand on Aya’s chin, caressing her face. The priestess almost leaned into it.

  “And it’s that the only reason?” She asked a little quieter.

  “No, my lady.” Aya replied, looking once again into the queen’s eyes. “There has never been a female pharaoh, not once in all the years since Egypt was founded. My goddess is worshipped as the throne of the pharaoh, as the symbol of its power and yet a female never yielded that power, only men – as if women weren’t good enough. That is something I aim to change.”

  “Ah.” A sound of comprehension and pleasure released itself from Hatshepsut’s mouth almost without her meaning it to. She had finally found someone who thought like her, who wanted better, and she would use that for all its worth. “What do you propose then, priestess?”

  “Visit the temple of Isis the day of your husband’s funeral, my lady, and I will have the support of my temple to offer you.”

  Hatshepsut smiled and let her hand wander lower, letting it linger just above Aya’s breasts, making the other woman gasp. “Do that priestess, and I will know to reward you accordingly.”

  The priestess nodded a little jerkily and bowed, lower than before, before retreating, never turning her back on the queen.

  Hatshepsut watched her go, resisting the urge to laugh.

  Things were already going her away and she hadn’t done anything yet.

  She would be pharaoh, and no one would stop her, but first there were precautions to be taken, deals to be made, and the one with the priestess of Isis was just the first.

  Chapter 2

  Hatshepsut relaxed under her handmaiden’s hands, the girl’s digits pressing firmly against her back, massaging, while another woman used a wet sponge to clean up her legs.

  Her husband’s funerary rites had been a particularly boring affair, but necessary, and now she needed to relax and go to Aya.

  Half an hour was enough for her to finish her bath. After stepping out of the small pool, she could almost make up her reflection in the water, from her toned stomach to her large breasts, dark curly hair falling down her back. Hatshepsut was a beautiful woman and she knew it.

  The attendants applied perfumes and oils to her skin, before dressing her, making her look like the queen she was. Once Hatshepsut was satisfied they fell in behind her, following as she moved through the palace.

  Hatshepsut was lost in her own thoughts, wondering if Aya ha found the support she had promised, so she almost missed it when someone stepped into her path, making her stop.

  Amaunet was one of her husband’s secondary wives, and her younger sister, daughter of her father and one of his secondary wives.

  Hatshepsut knew the younger woman desired what belonged to her, but she never paid Amaunet much at
tention, considering her irrelevant. Now things took another tone because, for once in her life, Amaunet had an advantage over Hatshepsut – she was the mother of Thutmose II’s only male child – who, according to tradition, would be the prime candidate to succeed him, if only he wasn’t a toddler.

  The younger woman smirked at her queen nonetheless, looking confident, like she had nothing to fear and was in complete control of the situation.

  Hatshepsut had always thought Amaunet an arrogant fool and the other woman’s attitude wasn’t proving her wrong. It was so much easier to outmaneuver someone when they didn’t even bother to conceal their intentions.

  “So hurried, my queen; busy enjoying the last days in power?” Amaunet smirked, convinced of her own cleverness.

  “Do you think to replace me as queen, little sister?” Hatshepsut poured all her venom into these last words, all of her disdain for the other woman.

  Amaunet wasn’t immune to it and her face darkened, rage pouring through. “My son will be pharaoh, Hatshepsut. If I were you, I would take hold of my tongue; it can create you more problems that you can imagine.”

  Hatshepsut laughed, the jewelry in her hair tinkling together. “And how is that going to happen, dear sister. Do you believe anyone wants a toddler to be their ruler? I didn’t think you so foolish.”

  “We’ll see who is foolish.” Amaunet replied, lips curving into a smile. “Do you really think you have the support needed to become pharaoh? You, who are nothing more than a woman, think to become our ruler?”

  “I suppose one can never tell with you, sister, but are you also not a woman?” Hatshepsut questioned.

  “Yes, but I know my place. And I know my son’s place.”

  “My place you mean.” Hatshepsut bit out. “My claim is as good as his.”

  “We’ll see who is right, sister.” Amaunet replied. “Unfortunately for you, I have what really matters in these conflicts.”

  “A brain?” Hatshepsut put out sarcastically.

  “An army.” Amaunet replied, moving forward and stopping in front of her sister. “In your place I would thread with care, Hatshepsut, or you might pay for it latter. Would you like to be sent down to service the soldiers? I can make that happen if you cross a line.”

  “You’re the one crossing a line.” Hatshepsut said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to lash out.

  The other woman seemed too assured of her own victory, of her own words. She needed to be careful.

  Amaunet smirked. “Or maybe I will make you marry my future husband. Make you his secondary wife, or perhaps a simple concubine. We wouldn’t want you to be placed above your place.”

  “So that is your plan?” Hatshepsut questioned, finally understanding her younger sister’s intentions. “You intend to use your cunt as your weapon against me. Or maybe you already used it. If I know you, you already spread your legs to someone who you believe will help you, didn’t you?”

  Amaunet face reddened but she remained silent.

  Hatshepsut smirked, once more assured of her superiority towards the younger woman. “I have to admit, you make for a very beautiful whore, Amaunet; and quite good at your job, if anyone is willing to give you an army over it.”

  “You’ll pay for this.” Amaunet promised.

  “Maybe.” Hatshepsut conceded. “But it will not be you who will make me pay for it, little sister. I have allies also, and we’ll see, at the end of the day, who will rule, me or your son.”

  Having said her piece, Hatshepsut moved once again, ignoring the other woman. Her steps were faster and, despite what she had told her younger sister, she was worried. Amaunet had moved quickly and found someone to back her son.

  If the younger woman truly had the backing of someone on the military, perhaps one of the most ambitious generals, then time was of the essence, and Hatshepsut had to hurry. She supposed she was an idiot for not considering the possibility; plenty of generals would give up their rights arms for the chance to be the next pharaoh’s step-father; getting Amaunet as a wife only made the deal sweeter.

  It took her almost an hour to arrive at the temple of Isis. She made sure her palanquin passed through the most populated area of the city, letting the people gaze at her, while servants distributed food.

  Slaves and laborers might have little influence, but every little bit helped, especially if Amaunet truly had the military at her side.

  The temple of Isis was one of the biggest buildings in the city, only dwarfed by the royal palace and a few other structures. Like most, its interiors were decorated in golden hues, every inch of its walls engraved with images and script.

  While beautiful, Hatshepsut believed it was a little too overdone. Sometimes simpler things were the best.

  The temple guards bowed and let her pass.

  With a gesture she ordered her attendants to remain at the entrance, and walked alone, moving into the main chamber. She looked around, surprised at the absence of any priestess and decided to wait.

  When a minute had passed and no one appeared she started suspecting something. Temples rarely were left unattended, especially when a queen had been invited to visit.

  Hatshepsut’s heart started beating faster and she feared a trap. She turned around and started to leave, but a resonating voice made her still.

  “This is not a trap, little queen, just a meeting.”

  The voice was female, powerful. Hatshepsut felt her bones trembling at the sound and her skin breaking into goose bumps. She turned to face its origin, terrified of the unknown.

  She found the woman responsible lazily reclined against one of the columns, almost as if it was a bed.

  Hatshepsut’s breath caught.

  The other woman was beautiful, almost too much; her skin an almost golden shade, her hair luxurious and long, wild behind her back, curly, her breasts full and round.

  If those were her only features of note, she would already be called beautiful and blessed, but it didn’t stop there. Her body was that of a warrior, muscled and strong, masculine in some ways, but that only accentuated her more female features, her round face, her succulent lips.

  It was the two last details of her appearance that made Hatshepsut tremble anew – golden eyes slit like those of a cat, and ears above her head, black and also like a cat’s.

  The other woman tilted her head, amused, as if she knew the thoughts in Hatshepsut’s mind, while the queen’s world imploded on her.

  “Oh, I know what you’re thinking; I am what I am after all.”

  Hatshepsut mind only repeated to itself that it couldn’t be, that the goddess Bastet couldn’t be in front of her.

  “So you’re going to deny what is in front of your eyes. Tut, tut, little queen, I hoped better from you.” Bastet said as she approached, her gaze making Hatshepsut’s catch her breath.

  The would-be-pharaoh’s mind was a mess. She didn’t want to believe her eyes, she had never believed in gods or any mystical thing, but now she knew they were true. For one moment she doubted everything she had always believed in, her knowledge, her attitude and way of life, all which made her who she was.

  And then she shut her doubts away and locked them inside her mind. Later there would be time to question her beliefs, but first she needed to face what was right in front of her.

  “Hum,” That sound, coming from Bastet’s mouth, made Hatshepsut shudder in a complete different manner than before. “I suppose I can see the strength the other three were talking about; you do have some iron within you.”

  Hatshepsut bowed her head at the goddess, thanking her for the compliment.

  “Did a cat get your tongue, little girl?” Bastet asked, leaning forward, almost pressing her face against Hatshepsut’s. “Or did you forget how to speak?”

  Hatshepsut gulped, only now realizing how tall the other woman was, her head resting almost a foot above her. “No, my lady, I was simply unaware if I should speak out loud in your presence.”

  “If I didn’t want you to spe
ak, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place, girl.”

  “I apologize and if you allow me, why did you come to me?” Hatshepsut asked, curious. She could only think of one reason why the goddess would come to her – Thutmose II’s succession.

  “Yes, that’s exactly the reason and it reminds me.” Bastet moved before Hatshepsut could react, the goddess’s hand tangling itself on the queen’s hair and gripping tightly.

  Hatshepsut cried out at the pain and fell to her knees, guided there by the cat goddess’s hand. Bastet did not release her hair but relaxed her hold slightly, and circled Hatshepsut, stopping behind her back.

  Hatshepsut felt the goddess’s foot press against her upper back, pushing her forward; making her brace herself on her hands and knees. She froze, afraid like she had never been in her life, knowing she was at the complete mercy of the female behind her.

  She thought about begging for her life, to plead for the other woman to spare her, bus Bastet anticipated her.

  “No, don’t do that!” Bastet commanded, her voice grating on Hatshepsut’s ears, making her tremble anew. “I don’t want to lose the meager of respect I have for you.”

  “Then what do you want?” The queen asked, her anger momentarily overpowering her fear.

  Bastet smiled.

  “I don’t like you. I think you’re vain, arrogant, too convinced of your own prowess, of your world views.” She whispered at Hatshepsut’s ear, her tongue licking the other woman’s earlobe. “I also don’t believe you deserve the boon Isis intends to give you, but I suppose she has her reasons. I just don’t understand why she chose someone who doesn’t believe in us, or at least didn’t.”

  Hatshepsut froze, her brain considering Bastet’s words. Had she heard the goddess right? Isis had some kind of boon to offer her?

  “Don’t bother.” The cat goddess continued. “You’re not going to find out what it is before she’s ready, and I have my own task to perform before that happens.”

  Hatshepsut felt Bastet’s hands on her tunic, slowly pushing the fabric up her body.