Queen Iona would never have considered herself a cruel person. All her life she had bee guided by the example of her grandfather, King Gygax IV, nicknamed “The Lawgiver”. The old King’s legislation had all been founded on the principle “To each according to his needs”. Exactly the same principle had been observed in the treatment of slaves.

Out in the palace grounds the Queen could see a chain-gang of gigantic Nubians, erecting the columns of a new pavilion. Every move they made was exactly synchronised to the sound of the supervisor’s whistle. The value of these huge men was the strength of their arms and legs. Everything else was surplus to requirements.

These black hulks would never be breeding –stock. The whole idea of their dark blood contaminating the pure Ionian race was repulsive. All the Nubian slaves were gelded immediately on entering service in the Queen’s household. They were not required to communicate with one another, and therefore, after castrating them, the doctor had severed their vocal cords. Thereafter they worked- and lived- in silence.

In the chain-gang, only one pair of eyes – the supervisor’s – was necessary. The slaves had their eyes put out with boiling oil…………..

Queen Iona turned back to the trembling boy, crouching on the bed. “What is your name, child? she asked, in a more gentle voice.

“My name is Alexis, Majesty” the boy replied in a tearful alto voice.

A simple peasant name……. “ Stand up, Alexis, here on the floor, where I can see you better” continued the Queen. The boy obeyed her instantly. Queen Iona ran her eyes over him, his pretty, oval face, his slim figure, his delicately-formed hands and feet. Her gaze focused on the child’s rounded thighs.

The Queen had seen many boy-eunuchs. Captured boys were landed in their hundreds, and the slave-dealers gelded them on arrival. It made them more docile and ready to accept servitude. More often than not, the gelding operation was crude in the extreme: the boy’s scrotum was stretched over a chopping-block and his twin organs of generation were hacked off with a meat cleaver. Those that survived and healed – were left with a few rags of shrivelled skin, their penises hanging lifelessly…..

Alexis was different. Whoever had castrated this boy had possessed more than a modicum of surgical skill. The empty sac had settled down into a curve of smooth skin, marked only by the two neat, small scars where the surgeon had squeezed the boy’s testicles out of his scrotum. The boy’s hairless penis was unmarked in any way and looked quite jaunty……..

One day, the Queen thought, she would have to find out about this boy’s background and why he had been “pruned”. He was no slave, for a start, but just a simple lad from the country, and farm-boys were not castrated except for some good reason.

The boy’s penis fascinated Queen Iona. Very gently she took it between finger and thumb, rolling back the silken foreskin to uncover the pink tip. She repeated this a few more times. Alexis began blushing.

The Queen smiled. “Are you enjoying this, what I’m doing to you” she asked.

“Yes, Majesty” the boy stammered.

“Do you ever get hard?” the Queen asked, with a twinkle.

“I used to, Majesty, sometimes. But ever since I was gelded, I can’t do it any more. I’ve tried and tried but I just can’t”.

The Queen nodded. This was usual: boy-eunuchs who were gelded before puberty commonly lost the ability to get erections even though their sexual longings remained. She had one more question. “Before you were gelded, had you ever “done it” with another boy?” It would come as no surprise if that had been the case; boys were positively encouraged to masturbate and also to put their penises up each other’s behinds. It was just harmless fun!

“Or perhaps” continued the Queen, lowering her voice to a whisper, “you went with a girl?” This was something else altogether.

The boy made no reply. He was trembling all over.

So that was it. Alexis had had sex with a virgin girl in his village – no doubt a girl of better family – and the enraged father had had him gelded to make certain he would never be able to do it again. The other village lads would have jeered at Alexis in his ball-less state. That is why he would have come to the palace, seeking work. But what work to give him?

The Queen sighed. Though she had a harem of young males, sex with youths and adolescent boys gave her little pleasure. Her mind travelled back fifteen years, to her clandestine affair with Berengar, a warrior prince from the regions to the north. Initially it had been easy to conceal their love: not for nothing was her father, King Theophrastus, known to his subjects as “The Forgetful” - rumour had it that he had once set off at the head of his army, only to forget whom they were meant to be attacking.

But on a later expedition Berengar had been killed in an ambush. Princess Iona – as she was then - finding herself pregnant, took refuge in a castle on the borders, where in time she gave birth to a daughter, whom she named Selene. There the child remained for the next seven years, when the old king died and Iona succeeded to the throne. Now, for the first time, she was able to bring Selene into the palace. Here she still was, attended by women…….

Iona gave a sudden start. “Alexis!” she asked. “Can you sing?

“Oh yes, Majesty” the boy replied. “I can sing, and dance, and play the sitar”.

The Queen, her mind made up, clapped her hands and called out “Charmian, come quickly! You too, Xenia, where are you? Come here at once!”

Charmian was the senior of the Queen’s waiting-women, Xenia her Mistress of the Robes. Both women appeared and prostrated themselves. The Queen told them to get up.

“Charmian, do you see this boy? Take him and give him a bath. Do it gently! And see what you can do with his hair, to make it prettier. Go now!” Charmian hurried out, leading Alexis by the hand. Iona turned to Xenia and gave her some orders. The Ethiopian girl – for that is what she was – hurried out.

Iona sent for a cup of wine and a dish of peaches and settled down to wait. In due time Charmian returned with Alexis. The boy was still naked, but his body smelled enticingly of scented oils. The slave, Charmian, was a skilled hairdresser and the boy’s fair curls, though short, were ornamented by a gilded brow-band in the shape of myrtle-leaves. The Queen nodded approval.

Xenia returned also. In her hand she held a short tunic of gold-coloured satin. Iona indicated to Alexis that he should put it on. The tunic reached only to his upper thighs, but Xenia had also brought a matching undergarment of the same material, a tiny thong which, when pulled up tight between the boy’s thighs, showed the outline of his nicely-shaped penis, while accentuating the curves of his bottom. To complete the ensemble, Xenia had brought buskins of supple deer-hide, possibly the first shoes the boy had ever worn.

“Come with me, Alexis” said the Queen. “I have work for you”.

Together they went through passages, and terraces where fountains played and flowers bloomed luxuriantly in huge urns. At last, in an arbour, they found a fifteen-year-old girl who was dressed in diaphanous garments, and whose hair fell in raven-black tresses, just as Berengar’s had done. For this was Princess Selene.

“Selene, my darling” said the Queen, coaxingly. “I’ve brought you a nice surprise. Because you are growing up so fast, I have brought you your first eunuch. His name is Alexis. He is here to do just whatever you want”.

The princess looked Alexis up and down. “And is he really a eunuch, Mamma?”

“Yes, he’s had that operation that all slave-boys have, to make certain he’s well-behaved and doesn’t become a nuisance. I’ll leave him here with you”.

“Come here then, you funny boy!” the Princess commanded Alexis. “Let’s see what you can do to amuse me. Though I’m sure” – she said with the trace of a giggle – there’s one thing you can NOT do!”

Queen Iona hurried away. Things would have to take their course.