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Training the Princess

By: lynneauden



Why did I leave the castle grounds? What was I thinking? She just wanted to get away for a day, escape the strict rule and guard on the palace. She was a princess, and was thus suspected of being a target for the Damdren armies to take. She'd been shadowed by guards for the past eighteen years, though in the past two months, as the Damdren forces were more bold in their attacks, coming further into the Kingdom. She couldn't take two steps without a heavily armed man starting to move with her. She felt trapped, suffocated.

So, she'd gone out riding. Alone. She knew going alone was not the wisest decision, but with her guards and ladies she knew she wouldn't have the freedom to ride hard, to just let go. She snuck into the stables early that morning, long before the sun rose, and readied her horse. She took off south, riding fast, watching as the sun slowly rose to her left, her shadow on the horse but a blur on the green fields. She rode through the day, stopping only to rest her horse and herself, enjoying the mindlessness of just riding, watching the countryside fly past her, leaving her cares behind.

The sun was low in the west when she finally felt ready to return home. She at least no longer wanted to run from the kingdom screaming, for now. She turned her horse, and slowly began to trot home, letting her mind and horse rest a bit. She rode as if in a daze as the sky darkened, trusting her horse to know the way home -- he'd never led her astray before, she gently patted his chestnut neck, murmuring words of encouragement. She noticed his ears perk up and his head swivel towards the rocky dell by a bridge crossing over a large river. Curious, she led her horse closer, wondering what it was that caught his attention. She tethered Kaheba by a tall tree and crept closer to the dell, hearing the deep voices of men laughing darkly. She peered over, a growing dread in her heart as she recognized the grey and dirty red colors of the armed men of Damdren. Two officers sat on rocks by the hill, watching as five men set up camp in the flats.

Isola knew this must be a scout group, sent out to observe the actions of the people in the outskirts of her land. She wished desperately now that she'd brought her guards with her. She was scared to see these men with their long swords and axes sitting mere yards away from her. She had to get away, warn the nearest village that Damdren men were in the area, plotting against them. She backed away slowly, praying to the gods that the men not notice her when a loud snapping noise reached her ears, followed by the clatter of hooves as Kaheba raced off. Something was wrong. How did he get free? The answer soon became clear as a tall thin man dressed in deep grey approached from the direction of the tree Kaheba had been tied to. "Well, what is a girl with a horse from the royal stables doing all the way out here?" he asked, drawing ever closer as she backed away, her mind a blur.

"You don't look like a royal, girl." he said, eyes scanning her body, taking in every inch of her body under her dirt stained shift, her wind whipt hair giving her a wild look. "Haven't been stealing, have you? Not my kingdom, wench, you can tell me."

Realizing the scout didn't recognize her in her travel stained shift she couldn't decide if this worked in her favor or not. Being recognized as the princess could be her ruin, having the princess kidnapped and under threat would give Damdren very much the upper hand. She knew her parents would give anything to have her back. She couldn't let her kingdom become trapped by the Damdren armies. She'd have to play along... Maybe they would let her go if they thought she was a girl fleeing the castle. Surely they could relate to another supposed enemy of the KNIFES people.

"I had to get away from the palace, I was put into the service of the princess by my parents... I couldn't stand being there any longer." she said, adjusting her voice, trying to imitate the accent of the people in the court of palace who once lived in the outskirts. Their voices seemed to have carried, one of the officers was climbing up the dell to see who their scout had discovered.

"Save your story, girl. We'll go tell it to the rest of the company. I'll let the officers decide what to do with you... A pretty young wench like you, I'm sure they'll think of something for you to do." He grasped her roughly by the arm, pulling her down into the valley. The officers called to him and beckoned bring the girl to the fire they'd started "Well Harker, what's this you found?" one of them asked, her eyes looking hungrily at her, she found herself wishing she'd worn a cloak over her thin dress. 

"A runaway from the castle, she claims," said the man still gripping her arm, "found a horse with the royal brand tethered to a tree, broke the branch he was tied to when I got near. He took off towards the forest."

"Well what a pretty run away" an office said, approaching Isola and grasping her chin in his hand. Her heart was pounding, petrified of making a wrong move. She just wanted to not attract attention, to get out of there, go into the woods to find Kaheba and get home. "What is it you're running from, girl?"

"Please, sir. I was given to serve the princess by my parents. I was treated cruelly by members of the court..." she stuttered, saying a silent prayer that they would believe her and let her go. "I wasn't running anywhere, I just wanted to get as far from the castle as I could. A man there... he wouldn't leave me alone... he would beat me." She knew such cruelty was common in the Damdren kingdom, and only hoped they would accept her story as true.

A second office approached, circling her, "What do you think, Cordon, he said, addressing the office still gripping her chin, turning her head side to side, "Looks well cared for for a servant. Her dress may be dirty, but" he said, reaching out and rubbing the fabric between his fingers "it's of high quality. Don't know any servants running around in this. What, did you steal this too, girl?"

"Yes, I... I didn't want to be recognized." she squeaked out as she felt the man's hand relax against the small of her back, slipping down to her bottom. She gasped at the familiarity with which he touched her. She bit her tongue to keep from ordering him to remove his hands. She supposed an abused girl would be used to such treatment, so tried to ignore the hand on her. "It was the only way I could think to get around unquestioned."

Cordon released her chin, smartly slapping her across the cheek. "Are you sure about that, girl? That's an interesting necklace for a servant to be wearing... The crest of the HOIFSHEO family on it. Very strange... you going to stay you stole that too?"

Isola gasped as the back of his hand stung her face, her heart sinking as she realized he suspected. He grasped the golden crest hanging from her neck, pulling her face towards his, his stale warm breath in her face. "Please..." was all she was able to get out before her arms were grabbed by the officer behind her, he quickly bound them with a length of rope, the rough material burning her soft pale flesh.

"Did you really think we wouldn't realize, girl?" his voice growled in her ear. "You're no servant. A member of the court at the least I'd wager." He pushed her onto the hard ground. "The king will know what to do with you... I'm sure he'll find a purpose for a well bred girl like you. A fine addition to his collection of nobles."

"No, please, I stole it from the Princess's chambers. I thought I could sell it once I got far enough away, I --"

"Harker, shut her up" the second officer interrupted, nodding towards the small boot knife Harker kept.

"Yes, Captain Kors." he said, Isola's heart was beating out of chest as the younger man reached for his knife, petrified these would be the last moments of her life, but the knife never touched her, just tore a large strip off the bottom of her dress. He shoved the green fabric into her mouth, tying another length of fabric to her, gagging her as she lay frightened on the ground.

"Well there's one hole that's off the menu..." she heard a soldier mutter to another, eliciting evil laughs from those around him.

"Unless we fill it with something better. Hard to talk with her mouth and throat full of cock." another replied.

The captain, Kors spoke up "There'll be plenty of time for that later, boys. We've found something worth bringing back, and we're going to do that as quick as we can. No point dragging her on a scouting expedition, anyway. Get moving! We can make it at least across the River Shui before we break for the night" With this the men immediately began tearing down the tents they'd set up for camp.

The officers went away from Isola to talk in low voices. yards away by the rocks, looking over a map of the land. Her mind was spinning. She'd been taken captive. She knew she couldn't enter the kingdom of the Damdren. Their king would surely recognize her and who knows what they would do with a captive princess. Though there was nothing she could do, not while she was surrounded by armed Damdren soldiers. She could only pray for a moment when she was alone and ignored to break free and run. She hoped her horse hadn't gone far...

_-'-_-'-_-'-_-'-_

The night wore on. She was given to Cordon to ride with, a smile spreading across his face with the appointment. She sat in front of him on his saddle, his large horse easily carrying them both. They rode for hours, the horses pushing through the undergrowth of the forest that had covered the little used paths. Isola spent the journey bouncing in a saddle, while Cordon's hands explored her body. She felt so ashamed as his hands roughly fondled her bouncing breasts, seeking her nipples out through the thin green material. He found the hard buds, pinching and twisting them cruelly, hearing her groan as his fingers hurt her delicate nipples and she struggled to avoid his hands, it only seemed to encourage Cordon.

"Yes, girl, keep struggling... I like it that way." he croaked in her ear as he pulled her nipples further, stretching her tits out in front of her. "Your nipples are nice and hard... are you enjoying this?" She grunted against the gag, her head shaking violently. This only elicited a dark chuckle from the officer, "What's that girl? Was that a yes?" he said, one hand slowly moving down her body. "I know one was we can find out..." his hand reached lower, getting closer and closer to her sex.

Dear gods no Isola was scared, her entire body felt like a leaf in the wind, shaking desperately. She tried to lean down onto the horse, cutting off access to her sex, and was shocked when Cordon moaned in pleasure as she did so. She realized then that she was rubbing her thinly covered bottom against Cordon, she could feel the hard length of his cock against her. "There's a good girl" he moaned, gripping the reins in one hand and her hips with the other. The bouncing of the horse forcing her to rub against him like a wanton slut.

When they reached the river crossing Isola was finally given a respite. The horsemen needed all their concentration to ford the river. She was ashamed to say she was comforted by his strong arm around her as the river rushed underneath them. They were all cold and wet by the time they reached the other side of the river, and, for the moment, Cordons seemed satiated. He handed her down from the horse to one of the soldiers, who led her to where a fire was being built.

Camp was set up hastily, no tents were erected, just fires built and horses tethered and fed. Isola was kept under constant watch. She stared with longing as the men ate smoked meats, bread and cheese, all the while making crude jokes, discussing what the king was likely to do to her when she arrived. Before long the men settled down, laying out cloaks to sleep on, and they set up a watch. The Captain issued strict orders on his guards "No one is to spoil the girl in the night," he ordered, his thoughts were dark, thinking if the King did not want her then maybe he could be the one to take the girl. He didn't want his prize spoiled before he could get to it. He remembered the feeling of her ass rubbing against his cock, longing to see what it felt like to fuck that tiny hole, force the little nobel to take him deep inside her ass... "It is not any of your right to take that prize before the king is offered."

A soldier called Firos was set to the first watch, he sat huddled under his cloak by the fire, Isola lay next to him, as close to the fire as she dared to keep from the cold. The men soon dropped off to sleep Isola drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of Firos's eyes on her body, all too visible in the firelight.

She had no idea how much time passed when she woke to find Firos with his head nodding in sleep. This may be her only chance to escape. She quietly struggled to stand, difficult with her hands bound behind her. She managed it, and her heart pounding began to inch away from the fire into the darkness of the woods. She had barely gone three yards when she heard a voice in her ear "O no you don't, pretty little thing... you're not going anywh--" Firos groaned as Isola's elbow roughly hit him in the stomach, in his shock he released his grip, she ran another ten steps before being caught and pushed to the ground. Firos stood over her, his knife drawn, anger covering his dark face. Isola's eyes brimmed with tears, as the large tall man loomed over her. "Cry, bitch" Firos growled at her, "You'll regret running from me."

He cut the gag from her mouth, his face inches from her's as he ordered her silence. "If you want to keep that tongue I'd recommend you hold it." he threatened, "You're going to make you little act of defiance up to me" he pulled her up, forcing her to kneel at his feet. He cut the ties from her hands, and issued his first command "Lower your dress, girl, I want to see those tits you've been hiding from us."

"No, please don't make me do this." Isola begged, shocked to find herself hoping another soldier would come along to stop this. She'd hoped the Captain's words would have been enough to stop any further advances on her, at least for a time.

But Firos moved his blade closer to the trembling girl, the cold steel touching her neck "Don't make me ask you again"

Isola's thin pale hands brushed her long black hair from her shoulders before lowering the straps of her gown. She closed her eyes as it slid down her arms, her breasts became exposed, the cold air making her pink nipples stand erect. "Touch them" Firos ordered, licking his lips as he watched her hands tremble as they reached her nipples, gently running over them.

"Pinch them, make your nipples hurt." he said, his eyes large as he watched her pull her nipples, pinching them hard, a gasp coming from her lips as she gripped her engorged nipples. "Yes..." he hissed, staring at the beautiful girl before him. "Use your nails, love the pain." he grunted as the teary eyed girl did as commanded, sucking in air as the pain hit her.

"Please... it hurts." she whispered, opening her tear filled eyes and looking up at the man. "Please don't make me do this."

He began stroking his cock through his pants, the large bulge obviously throbbing. He loved it when they begged. "Lick your fingers" he ordered, watching as her pale fingers were bathed by her pink tongue, it looked so alluring darting out from her dark pink pouty lips. "Now touch them again"

Tears were running down Isola's face as her fingers cruelly dug into her flesh. Her nipplies were burning with pain and cold. Firos was unlacing his pants, she could see his cock spring into view, angry and red, veins sprouting all over it, pulsing full of blood. "Let's put that mouth of yours to good work, girl. If you do a good job maybe I'll stop with just one hole. It's hours until morning, if I don't wake the next watchmen no one will ever notice." He roughly grabbed her hair, pulling her closer to him, his erection was mere inches from her face, the scent of sweat and man overwhelming her.

A sudden snapping sound filled the quiet woods. Harker appeared behind Firos, a haze of lust in his eyes at the sight of the girl playing with her naked breasts in the woods. Isola's teary green eyes stared at him, wide and fearful. He shook his head, as if clearing his mind. "Well Firos, you seem to have found a way to make the watch interesting..." he said, making Firos jump, in his lust he had failed to realize they were not alone. "Speaking of interesting. I imagine Captain Cordon would be very interested in hearing why the prisoner is unbound and ungagged. Wouldn't want her getting away, would we?"

Firos looked guilty, angry, and embarrassed in one quick blur before laughing quietly. "Just having a bit of fun with the girl... She isn't going anywhere." he got out as Harker made quick work of tying Isola back up and replacing the gag in her mouth. "Can you blame me, Harker? Up alone at night with her? Can't tell me it wouldn't have crossed your mind."

Harker pulled the girl to her feet, his dark eyes unreadable. "Just keep her where we can all see her, Firos. Can't have you keeping all the goods to yourself." he laughed, "Besides, it's my watch now. You can rest up for tomorrow."

Isola watched this transpire, unsure if she should feel grateful or not. The man had been the one to capture her, but had also saved her. She spent the rest of the night drifting in and out of sleep as she was for the most part ignored by Harker. He stole only the occasional glance at the girl, checking if she was asleep and still.

The morning dawned, a hint of sunlight showed through the cover of the trees. Isola stirred when she was shaken by a soldier, apparently the last man on watch duty, as after waking Isola he roused the Damdren soldiers who were still sleeping off the hard day's ride. The preparation for the next day's journey began, the men were soon watering their horses and eating more smoked meat and bread. She was offered nothing, just left bound and gagged by the dying embers of the fire.

Soon they were on their way once more, their kingdom was a three day ride from her own, she knew. She had another two days of travel to attempt an escape. Though she grew less and less convinced that would be possible the further they got from home. Her horse would be long gone by now, and she'd be easily tracked down if she ran off on foot.

She was giving to one of the other soldiers to ride with for their first leg, Lidams. Each man seemed to want a turn riding with the girl, and Lidams was lucky enough to have the first go of the day. As they passed through the forest his hands roamed her body, slipping under her dress, pinching her delicate flesh. He even took to grasping her sex as they rode, his hand cupping her as she bounced in the saddle, his fingers dancing between her legs, making her squirm against him, the muffled sounds of her protest against the gag only making him laugh. 

"Yes, that's what the men like, girl." he would whisper in her ear as she struggled against him "If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to get my fingers inside of you. Musn't do that, wench. The king gets first crack at all the girls we take. But we can play..." he began to hike her skirts up around her thighs, his fingers exploring her bare skin, climbing closer and closer to her sex.

She was saved by Captain Kors calling for a break. It was a hot day, their horses needed water and a walk. "Pity," Lidams said, hoisting her back against him, grinding his cock against her as as he lowered her to the ground "Things were just getting fun. I'll be waiting for our next ride, little nobel."

She was passed man to man, two more times. Captian Kors was the worst, and not by his actions. He told her tales. "You're lucky you're a nobel girl, wench. The last girl we found was passed around the party, begging and screaming for mercy. She was a tight little thing when we found her. A maiden. How she screamed when I broke her maidenhead, crying to her gods for mercy. Didn't do her much good. Soon we'd all had her, she was loose as an old whore when we were through with her." He went into detail about each girl he'd raped, telling her how they begged for him to stop, to be merciful. But mercy wasn't in the Damdren way.


Training the Princess Ch. 02



Isola had been left chained to the wall all through the night. This was a new cell, larger than the one in the dungeon, and cleaner. She was even given a small pallet to sleep upon, though she could not do so now. Her wrists were shackled just below the narrow window of her cell, held above her head, she was forced to crouch, the chains too short to allow her to comfortably sit.

She wept as her mind ran through her first lesson with the Damdren King. The first of many, she was sure. Her body ached from the cropping she'd received. The place between her legs throbbed in pain... and something else. She could not understand why her body responded to her torture like that. She couldn't possibly like the pain, yet when she remembered the feeling of the crop flicking her sensitive nipples or running over her slit she shuddered and blushed.

She drifted into an uneasy sleep pressed against her cell wall, her arms growing sore from their bondage. She watched the sun sink in her bouts of wakefulness, darkness growing in her chamber. One of the women who'd taken her there came in at one point to light the torches. Apart from that she saw no one. She heard the stomp of boots going past her door, the chuckles of men as they went about their evening, other doors open and close, yet she remained alone. No one brought her dinner, and by the time the sun crept up into the world again she was feeling her strength wane.

Her eyes snapped open as the sound of a key scraping in the lock of her cell door broke her solitary silence. From the angle of the light in her cell she would guess it was well past midday.

"You're in for a treat today" a guard she'd never seen before sneered as he stepped into her cell. She shrunk against the wall as he loomed over her, all too aware of the whip at his waist, and the dagger at his side.

The guard followed her eyes to his whip and chuckled "No, girl. You think the king would let his guards have all the fun? If you're in for a whipping it'll be by his hand." he saw fear flash through her wide eyes and smirked. "Yes, not sure if that should be a relief or not." he said, unchaining her from the wall, though quickly chaining her wrists together before leading her out of her cell.

She was dragged through the castle, led up winding stairs and through wide passages until she stood before enormous black doors. Two guards stood on either side, and at her arrival threw the doors open. Inside was a large room, a long table at the center filled with soldiers, and the king sat at the head, advisors bearing stacks of parchment surrounded him. Everyone looked up at the sound of the doors swinging open.

"Ah, our bride to be is here. Thank you Tredik. You may unchain her and go." he said, taking in his captive once more, she stood with less pride today, her head down instead of tall above her -- a sign that her rough night had done its job. Turning back to the guard he said "There are some new prisoners in the dungeons, fresh from a raid on Graiken. Find yourself one for your trouble." He enjoyed the look of horror that spread across Isola's face at this comment.

"Thank you, m'lord." the guard replied, unchaining the girl before dropping to his knee and leaving the room.

"Well, princess, we've just been discussing you. Come and see the marriage contract we've received from your kingdom." he said, smirking as she closed her eyes, steeling herself for the fact that this truly was happening. When she didn't start to walk towards him the king snapped his fingers, a guard coming from the side of the wall came forward and slapped her sharply across the face, laughter coming from the table as her cheek reddened. "I said come, pet. You really must work on doing as you're told. Now come here."

Isola blinked to hold back tears from the pain radiating from her cheek. As she walked down the table she felt all the men's eyes on her, taking in her body, every curve on display in the thin silky gown she was given. She cursed the coolness of the room for making her nipples stand at attention, straining against the soft fabric which seemed to tease her nipples with every step she took. She made it to the end of the table, and stood by the king's side. Her heart ached as she saw the parchment in front of him. She knew that hand, it was written by her father's advisor, signed and stamped by the king.

"Yes, my pet." the king said, his hand slipping behind her to caress her ass. "Things are moving along very nicely as you can see. Your dowry is most impressive. We've agreed to cease our raids on the villages and keep you alive. Your parents have agreed to provide us with a very generous allowance and fee. At this rate you and my son shall be wed within the month. A pity we had to refuse your parents the right to see your wedding. We couldn't risk an army coming onto our lands."

She could barely concentrate on the paper in front of her. The table was laden with food, the men were clearly enjoying an excellent dinner, and she had not had a bite to eat in twenty-four hours. She felt weak.

"My lord," a captain spoke up from further down the table. Isola glanced at him and recognized him as one of her captors, Kors. "How do we know they won't come to try to take her back once we stop sending out raiding parties? Without our scouts we're blind."

"Captian, there is a simple solution to this, one that I have made clear to the Lansing king and queen from the first letter. They know we have superior armies. That is the only reason they've agreed to peace to being with. And they do love their daughter," he said, his hand running over her silk covered ass, massaging her flesh, enjoying the way she squirmed at the liberties he took with her body. "They love her, and know the way we treat our captives. They'd rather keep her out of the dungeons, which they know is the first place we'll send her should a single drop of Damdren blood be shed."

"Yes, my lord." Captain Kors responded. "Though with your permission I would like to continue to lead scouting trips along the borders of our lands. I do not mean to disagree with you, my lord. I do not ask to raid villages or attack travelers. Just to watch out borders. It would be best to keep the Lansing people aware of our presence." he said, refusing to give up so easily on his position.

The king considered this for a moment "Lieutenant Harker," he said, looking down the table at the young soldier. "You're our best scout, and have proven yourself worthy of my counsel table with your advice on this marriage contract. I would like to hear your counsel on the matter."

The captain bristled at this comment, his advice being passed over for a lieutenant's clearly did not sit well with him. Harker cleared his throat quietly after a moment's thought. Isola looked at him, recognizing him as the man who'd first captured her... yet the man who had showed her the only decency since that day. He seemed to feel her green eyes upon him, for his own grey pair turned to meet her's. When their eyes locked he quickly turned back to the king, "My lord, I feel we should continue to scout, though not in the larger parties we have been using for raids. I would suggest that we send only two or three scouts at a time to keep a subtle eye out. We do not want to seem as though we are plotting, though I agree with the captain that it is best to keep a watchful eye."

"Wise counsel, Lieutenant. You'll have a good career ahead of you, boy." the king said. "You've been very helpful: finding my little pet here; bringing her to me alive and unharmed, against the initial wishes of your superior officers it would seem; coming up with a plan to fill our coffers and stop the enemy from attempting war on our lands for good... I believe such service should be rewarded."

"My lord, you are too kind. All I desire is to serve my kingdom." Harker answered, his eyes momentarily flicking towards Isola. He was painfully aware of the way her nipples stood up against the fabric of her thin dress.

"Ah," Duane said, having caught the movement of Harker's eyes. "So you like my little pet here? No great surprise... what man wouldn't want a turn with her? And you were so patient on the way back from the woods... leaving her unspoilt."

"No, my lord, I would never ask --" Harker began before the king stood, causing the room to fall silent.

"Lieutenant, stay behind. The rest of you may leave. We shall continue our discussion tomorrow." his hand on Isola's ass had aroused him, he no longer cared to hear from his counselors, he wanted to hear sweet screams from his pet. He enjoyed the way she flinched when his hand drifted low on her ass, brushing against the back of her cunt.

His counselors and officers kneeled as they left the room, leaving him alone with Harker and Isola. He watched as Harker shifted uncomfortably in his seat, he'd never been alone with the king in the past.

"Well Harker, you have certainly earned a prize. And don't deny the desire you have for this girl," the king said, cutting off Harker's response before he did more than open his mouth. "Now I don't know that I'm willing to share my pet. Such a pretty little flower... delicate, pure, untouched." He allowed his hands to move freely over Isola's body, running his hands over the curve of her hip. She stood stock still, eyes glued to the table in front of her. "And suddenly silent, it would seem. You haven't said a word yet, my pet. Could that little lesson have been enough to remind you of your place here?" he asked, pulling her down to her knees, his hand caressing the red mark that stained her cheek. She shuddered as he ran over the welt forming on her cheek. 

Isola remained silent. She'd learned that it was the tears and screams he desired, she would not give him the pleasure.

"Silence is golden, pet." the kind continued, grasping her by the chin tilting her head to look at her pretty face. "A good slut should been seen and not heard in the presence of her betters." he said, smirking at the look of rage that flitted through her green eyes.

"As I was saying Harker," he said, releasing Isola's chin and turning to face the lieutenant. "Such a lovely thing as our princess here is not a prize I am willing to share just yet. Though I will let you watch while I punish her after a little more breaking in. Would you like that? To see the girl bound and spread, begging for release?"

Isola could not believe what she was hearing. That the king would allow others to watch as she was tortured was too much, too humiliating to bear. She let out a barely audible gasp, drawing the eyes of the two men in the room. "My lord I--" Harker began.

"O, do you like that idea, pet? Does it excite you to think of Harker here watching you beg me to hurt you?" the king teased her, pulling her head back by her hair, once again bringing her eyes up to meet his own.

"No, please, you can't." she said, shaking her head as best she could, wincing as her hair was pulled painfully back. Her fear was getting the better of her. That quickly she went from stoic to begging for mercy, she hated herself for being so weak.

"Maybe another lesson is due, girl. You think you can tell me what to do in my own hall? You dare to tell me I 'can't' do something? You are mine, slut. My pet, my toy, my whore. You will do whatever I desire, whenever I ask, with anyone of my choosing. Your insolence will be remembered during your training. Now tell me what you are, pet. Tell me who you belong to."

Tears filled Isola's eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks with each shaky breath she took. "No." she said, her voice cracking. "I am not yo-"

SLAP, the king's hand went across her face, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room, the silence that followed was sharp.

"Harker, leave us. It seems my pet is eager to be punished." the king said, motioning for his guards to leave as well.

"Yes my lord." the lieutenant replied, standing to take his leave. As he knelt before exiting his eyes met the girl's, and the softness of them startled her. It almost looked like pity, a look Isola had not seen since the day she was captured. He turned on his heel and was gone, not looking back as he went through the doors, which were swung shut behind him. She knew guards would be posted outside the doors, ensuring privacy for the king.

"I'm disappointed in you, pet." the king said, watching Isola try to soothe the burn on her cheek with her slim pale hand. "You were doing so well until then. But have no fear, by the end of your training you will know who you belong to."

He walked slowly across the hall, the sound of his boots echoed across the bare stone as he made his way to a cabinet by the far wall. Isola shuddered to think what he would find to use on her inside of it. "You should undress, pet. I'd hate for something to happen to your lovely gown." he said, not even turning to face her as he reached into the cabinet. She saw him remove a few items, putting them each in a leather satchel before she could get a look at what was in store for her. She made no move to remove her dress, hating the offhand way he told her to strip, he didn't even look at her. She wondered why that bothered her. She certainly didn't want him to ogle her... but then why was she angered by it?

Puzzled, she was lost in thought, and did not even realize the king had returned to stand beside her. He pulled her to her feet, "I said to strip, slut. Or shall I remove it for you?" he asked, reaching for the knife in his belt. "And know this, I'll take it from you in pieces, and who know's when I'll see fit to dress you again... and I don't know that I could deny my guards the pleasure of your company if they had to handle you naked day and night."

He raised his knife to a shoulder tie of her gown, gently running the cold metal against her flesh, placing it under the strap, ready to pull through the delicate silk in an instant. The fear of being abused by the guards filled Isola. She was haunted by the screams and cries that filled the dungeons she lived in her first few days as a prisoner. "No, no please, I'll do it." she said, her hand quickly flying to her shoulder.

"And what do you call me, princess." he asked, sliding the knife further up her shoulder, moving up to her slender neck, letting the steel rest against her fluttering pulse.

"Master," she whimpered, the kiss of steel on her neck sapping her will to fight from her.

"Such a good girl." he murmured, removing the blade from her neck, placing it on the table before her, a warning. "Now the dress."

"Yes master" she said, her hands fumbling at the ties of her gown. The silk ran into a puddle at her feet, she fought to keep her hand by her side, she feared the king's response should she attempt to cover herself.

"Good girl" Duane said, enjoying the sight of her standing before him, she shifted uncomfortably, obviously on edge, uncomfortable and unsure of herself. She was right where he wanted her. "Tell me, my pet, are you excited for your wedding day?" he said, smiling as he examined her. Her skin still showed pale pink marks from the previous evening, though they were fading fast.

He caught her eyes staring at a plate of hard cheese and bread, sitting next to a beautiful brown roast chicken, only half eaten by his men. "Ah, yes. Supper. Are you hungry, pet?" he asked, stepping closer to her, watching as she fought to not shrink away.

When she did not respond he grabbed her cruelly by her hair, wrenching her head back "I asked you two questions now, girl, and you have yet to respond. I'll forgive the first as you haven't been fed since early yesterday, but do not think to disrespect me. You will get nothing if you are not a very good girl tonight. So I suggest you answer me this time: Are you hungry?"

Try as she might Isola was unable to bring herself to lie. The scent of the food was intoxicating, she dare not do anything to displease him, who knows when he would allow her food again if she did. "Yes, master." she whispered, eyes cast down, blushing and disappointed in her lack of willpower.

"Well pet, if you are a very good girl, and do everything I tell you I'll see to it that you are fed." Duane said, gently releasing his grip on her hair. "But should you disobey me, or refuse my wishes, it will be back to your cell and another night of shackles and an empty stomach. Do you understand?"

In a whisper, eyes closed Isola responded "Yes, master. I understand." she hated herself for giving in to his will, but she feared what would happen should she lose this chance.

"Good." the king said, "I think it is time I get a nice look at you, princess." he said, he walked to his throne, snapping his fingers and pointing towards the base of it, giving a silent instruction for Isola to follow him to that position.

Isola slowly walked to the foot of the throne, staring at the floor, constantly aware of the cold eyes of the king upon her, she fought to keep her hands from covering her nakedness. When she reached the base she quickly glanced up at him, waiting for his next order. She saw his lips twisted in a smirk at her embarrassment.

"Spread your legs shoulder width apart and lace your fingers behind your head, pet." he ordered her, "I want to get a better look at my future daughter." he laughed to himself at the look of disgust that played across her pretty features at the mention of her upcoming nuptials, but she obeyed.

Eyes downcast, Isola did as she was told. She felt like a whore, spreading her wares for the king to see, though she dare not disobey.

"Such a lovely sight," Duane said, taking in her pointed pink nipples, standing firm from her luscious white breasts. "Now turn, pet, I want to see the rest." His cock was straining against the laces of his pants, watching the sweet princess, daughter of his rival, pose and display herself for him was an incredibly arousing sight. She hesitated in turning for just a moment, her eyes coming up to his face, before quickly obeying when she saw the look of impatience in his eyes.

Her pale skin seemed to glow in the torch light, the pink marks of yesterday's punishment stood out against the white of her skin. His eyes followed the curve of her ass, gently sloping down towards the valley between her legs. He could just make out the outline of her bare cunt, spread open by the the stance of her legs. He wondered if she was wet... if displaying herself before him was awakening the slut he knew was hiding beneath her noble exterior, just waiting for a man strong enough to bring to light.

"Very good, girl. Though I'd like to see more before I'm satisfied. Remove your hands from behind your head, bend at the waist and grab your ankles. I want all of your treasures displayed before me." he said, feeling his cock pulse at the thought of her displayed so completely.

Isola took a deep breath, reminding herself that if she disobeyed she would be forced to starve another day or more, left chained in her cell. "Yes, master" she felt a blush creep over her skin as she reached down to her ankles, aware of how well displayed her sex would be in this position, open and spread before the Damdren king's eyes.

Duane rose from the throne, reaching out to gently stroke Isola's upthrust ass. She shuddered as he traced over the fading marks crisscrossing over the flesh. "Such a lovely thing you are, princess. Eighteen, a freshly ripe peach, just ready for the taking. Such delicate smooth skin," he said, running his hands down her ass, towards her open cunt. He gently probed a finger between her folds, smiling as he felt it slip easily between her damp lips, "And juicy as well, it would seem." he slid his finger back out, collecting her moisture as he did.

He rubbed two fingers together, feeling her juices glide between them, "Stand and face me." he ordered, as she slowly turned he saw the red flush in her cheeks, she knew there was no denying the dampness between her legs. "Well well well, it would seem you are enjoying this." he said, letting her watch as his fingers glided easily, glistening in the flickering light. "Let's see if you enjoy your punishment, slut." he said, leaving her standing spread by the throne as he went to grab something new from the cabinet by the side of the room.




Training the Princess Ch. 02



Isola felt her heart pounding fast, beating a rough tattoo against her chest. She feared whatever he had planned to punish her. When he came back into her view he had a thin leather leash and a large leather strap, she knew it would be used to beat her. She closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to get through this, and that her shameful passions would cease.

"What, pet? You don't like the look of this?" he asked, snapping the folded leather, making her jump. He chuckled as he reached for the silver collar he'd provided for around her neck. He could feel her pulse fluttering in her neck as he stroked the collar, pleased that she did not immediately withdraw from his touch. "That's better, slut." he said, hooking a finger through her collar, leading her towards a vacant table by the back entrance of the room.

"Yes, follow me pet, if you're very good you may even earn a treat by the end of your punishment." he said. "Onto the table, girl." he said, pushing her over it, flattening her chest against the wood, her ass sticking up right at the table's edge. "Lay your arms flat against the table and spread your legs to the edge." he said.

"Yes, master." she replied, fear overwhelming her. Would he take her like this -- bent and spread before him?

"Now, I think ten would be a fair number for your insolence, what do you think pet?" He ran the folded leather over her flesh, tracing lines over her skin, watching her body stiffen as he touched each new place.

Isola hated the way he made her take part in her punishments, "Yes master." she said, in barely a whisper.

"Tell me you've been a bad girl, tell me why you deserve to be punished." Duane teased her. He saw her fingers flex, her entire body stiffen in anger at this comment. But he knew she would obey. If she didn't she would be beaten worse, and not eat. She would give in.

Isola had never been more humiliated as she was forced to take on such a role in her punishment. Her pride was making it difficult to obey, she had done nothing to deserve such treatment, much less such treatment at the hands of her kingdom's enemy. She was better than this. And yet, her parents had abandoned her to this fate. She had seen the letter with her own eyes. The signature was her father's, she had no doubt. No one would be coming to save her. She had no choice but to obey, it was the only thing keeping her alive. "I've been --" she began, the words getting stuck in her throat, a defeated tear running down her cheek.

"I've been a bad girl, master. I disagreed with you and disobeyed you. I should never have spoken back to you." she said, hardly believing it was her speaking those words.

"And who do you belong to? Who do you obey?" Duane asked, gathering the leather in his hands, readying his strike.

"You master, I belong to you." she said, her voice cracking as she said those hated words.

"Remember that, pet." Duane said, snapping the leather before bringing it down onto her ass. "Count."

She screamed as the wide strip of leather came smashing down onto her ass. Pain raced through her body like a wildfire. She was able to grunt out "One" in enough time to save her further punishment, but barely.

Duane watched as Isola's ass developed a deep red patch from where the leather hit her. He gently rubbed the spot, feeling the heat radiating from the growing welt. "Yes, my little princess, you look so beautiful like this. Shall we try the other cheek?" he asked, quickly bringing the strap against the left cheek, leaving a twin mark.

Biting back a scream Isola counted the second strike, she knew her ass would be covered in welts by the time this was through. She only hoped that would be the only place that strokes fell... she shuddered to think of the pain she would be in if he used it on her sex. She felt his hand caressing her burning flesh, she winced each time his hand came in contact with one of her growing welts. This time his hand wandered towards the cleft between her two cheeks, teasingly running a finger up and down the crack.

"Such a lovely creature" Duane said, running his hands over her flesh, feeling it prickle beneath his touch. He let his finger roam further down her ass, teasing over her puckered hole. He let his finger dip a bit further, ever so gently grazing her pussy lips, making Isola gasp. "Do you like that, pet?" he asked, leaving his finger there, barely touching her lips, noting that they were slightly swollen.He could see dampness glistening within her. When she began to shake her head in response he cracked the strap against her thigh, a long red mark showed as Isola yelped in pain.

"Three" Isola remembered to count for him as she gasped for breath, the stoke to her leg left her feeling winded. She could feel her skin burning in pain where the thick strap hit her and before she could pause for rest another blow fell, this one landing on the opposite thigh, just inches below her sex. "Four" she choked out, biting back another scream.

"Don't lie to me, pet. I can see how wet you are. You're enjoying this, enjoying being beaten with your legs spread and ass raised. You cannot deny you want this. You body gives you away." he said, he ran his hand up her thigh, watching her shiver as he passed over the welt forming there. He let his fingers linger less than an inch from her pussy, looking down to see her juices covering her puffy pussy lips.

He could not resist the warm wet flesh of her cunt. He had to touch her. He let his fingers slip slowly upwards, he could feel heat radiating from her, drawing him in. His finger slid gently between the gap in her swollen lips, caressing her silky smooth cunt, delving deeper, his finger covered in her juices as he teased over her cunt hole.

Isola gasped as she felt his finger running over her exposed sex. She could feel her body arching, trying to force his finger along her pussy, she could not stop herself as a low moan escaped her lips. She shouldn't be feeling like this. This was the man who was holding her prisoner, abusing her, forcing her to marry his brutal son, yet her body ached for his touch. Even when he hurt her her body burned for him. The pain only made the fire burning between her legs grow hotter.

"You see, girl?" he said, sliding his finger further between her legs, brushing against her swollen clit, earning him another gasp of pleasure from Isola. "You may play the proud, cold, virginal princess, but when it comes down to it you are nothing but a slut. My slut. Look at you; soaking wet, aching back against my touch, spread wide, waiting to be taken." He cracked the strap suddenly against her ass, just as she was pushing back against him, forcing her ass higher off the table.

"Ahhhhg! she shrieked at the sudden unexpected blow. "Five, master." she said, gasping as his fingers again ran over her clit. The pain from the stroke mingled with the pleasure and desire she could no longer deny from the king's fingers probing her cunt. 

"Yes, slut, give in to the pleasure." he said as Isolas hips danced, trying to force his fingers against her throbbing clit. "Tell me you want it, slut." he said, teasing her, moving his finger to allow only the softest touch, denying her the pleasure she was so desperately seeking.

Isola's mind was racing, the feeling of his fingers playing over her wet pussy were driving her mad. She didn't want to want this. She shouldn't be behaving like this. She shouldn't feel like this. "No, no please --" SMACK another blow hit her, this time reaching from the small of her back over her ass. "O gods!" Isola cried out as the pain burned through her. "Six" she grunted as the pain slowly subsided to a dull burn. All the while his fingers did not stop their torment, he continued to tease her, dragging his finger along her soaking cunt.

The next blow came suddenly, the strap coming down hard against her ass, crossing over the welts already forming there. Isola gasped in pain as the wide leather strap came down against her sore sensitive flesh. "Seven" she grunted as he gently tapped her ass with the leather, teasing her red cheeks.

The king's lust was high as he watched the red mark darken against Isola's ass. He wanted to take her then and there, to feel her cunt wrapped around his cock like a vise, to hear her scream as he pierced her maidenhead. But not yet -- he would wait to have her. He wanted her begging for his cock. For now he would settle for watching her cum on his fingers. And she would. "You love this, whore. You love being used like this. Tell me you want it, pet. Tell me you want to cum." 

Isola was panting, her hips gyrating trying to follow his finger as it teased her, dancing away from the place she needed it most. She wanted to -- she wanted to so badly, to just give in to his will, to cum screaming as his fingers forced an orgasm from her body. All she had to do was ask. The eighth stroke was upon her before she even realized it. The edges of the leather felt as though they were knives cutting through her flesh. Her voice caught in her throat "Eigh-- eight" she finally got out. "O please... please." she said, unsure what it was she was asking for. Was she begging for the beating to end? Begging for her release? Or begging him to touch her, to make her cum like a whore?

"Please what, pet? Tell me what you want." he said, letting her grind herself against his finger, adding another to rub against her, fueling her lust.

"Ugh" Isola grunted, her pussy was on fire. She never felt this before, it seemed as though her whole world were on the brink of falling to pieces. "Please... please..." she began, half begging him to stop and half begging him to keep going.

Duane gripped her arm, growling in anger as he flipped her over on the table. She cried out as her sore ass and thighs scraped across the wood. His fingers were digging into her flesh, one hand went to her throat as the other drew back the leather strap, making it come cracking down across her breast. She screamed as the leather hit her sensitive nipple, already engorged with blood. "Nine" she counted, barely a whisper, fear flooding into her from the king's rage. The king held her down by her throat, the pressure making it hard to breath let alone speak.

She wiggled under him, desperately trying to loosen his grip on her neck. "Be still" he ordered, the strap coming rushing down over her other breast, the edge of the leather hitting against her erect nipple, her cry of pain catching in her throat. "Ten" she finally choked out. Her eyes brimming with tears.

He looked into her green eyes, wide with fear. "You will obey me, slut. You have had your ten lashes, do not make me increase that number to twenty." he threatened, leaning over her, tightening his grip on her throat, watching as panic began to set in. She struggled to remain still under his grip. She knew fighting would make it worse. "Now thank me for your punishment. Tell me how much you needed to be beaten." he said, loosening his grip slightly, watching her choke down air, her hands gripping the edge of the table, fighting to keep from reaching for her throat.

Gasping for breath Isola blinked tears from her eyes. "Thank you, master. I was very bad and needed to be punished." she said, staring past the king and focusing on the stone of the ceiling.

"You can do better than that, pet." the king said, stroking her side with the strap, reminding her of what would happen should she disobey.

More loudly this time Isola steeled herself and began "Thank you, master. I was bad to have disobeyed you and argue with you. I needed to be beaten to remind me of my place." she hoped this would be enough to please him.

"That will serve, slut." he said, releasing his grip on her throat, letting his hand run slowly down her body. He stopped to tease each nipple as he went, making her gasp as his hands molested the sore abused flesh. He continued down, his hand running over her taut stomach, and circling around her hips. A light sheen of sweat covered her in spite of the coolness of the room. "Though we have another matter to deal with, pet." he said, running his fingers over the top of her bare cunt. He smirked as he saw her legs spread a fractional degree as his finger delved lower. She would beg for release tonight. 

"You have still lied to me. You have denied what your body makes so clear. I will hear you admit your lust, slut. Now lift your arms above you." he was pleased to see how quickly she complied. She looked confused as she held her arm up, unsure of what his plan was. Is wasn't until he looped the strap through the circlets around her wrists that she realized what was happening.

Duane tightened the strap, looping it through itself to join her arms together. He walked behind her and secured the strap through a hook at the edge of the table. He pulled it tightly as he tied, forcing her arms well above her head, stretching her across the wood. Her ass was barely perched at the table's edge. He pulled out two additional straps to tie down her legs, forcing her to spread herself wide open as she was lashed to the table legs.

As he finished his work Duane looked at the bound girl before him. She was exquisite as she tested her bonds, struggling in vain to find a comfortable resting place. Duane stood watching her for several long moments. "Please... master. What are you going to do to me?" she asked when he remained silent at the foot of the table. She could feel his eyes gazing at her hungrily.

"Whatever I please, pet. And do you know why that is? Do you know why I will do whatever I want to you?" he asked, advancing towards her, stroking her thigh, tense from the wide spread.

"Because I belong to you." she whispered, too afraid to not provide the answer he sought.

"Yes, girl. You are mine." he said, moving his hand along her thigh, allowing his fingers to brush against her pussy lips, swollen and glistening wet. "Now slut, and I want you to think about this answer, because should you lie to me this will go very badly for you," he slid his finger along her cunt, collecting the moisture pooling around her tight hole before continuing up, rubbing his fingers lightly over her clit. "Tell me you want this." he whispered, rubbing her clit, his eyes full of lust as he watched her buck against his hand. "Tell me you're a slut, princess." he said, louder as his fingers worked faster over her clit, watching her struggle against her tight bonds.

Isola couldn't fight it. Her sex was on fire, she had never needed anything like she needed this, she'd been so close to the brink for so long, the friction of his rough fingers on her clit was pushing her over the edge. "Please, please master." she pleaded. hips bucking wildly off the table. With every passing second she was losing herself to her lust. "Please, I need it."

"What do you need?" the king asked, slipping his fingers from her clit to her opening, rubbing around it, watching as her hips circled with his movements.

"O gods please, I need you to touch me. Please don't stop." she said, closing her eyes, losing herself in her lust. When the kings fingers found their way back up to her clit she cried out in pleasure.

"Tell me you're a slut, princess." he said, his other hand moving to her swollen nipples, pinching and tweaking them, taking turns mauling her battered peaks, stretching them as they pulled her heavy tits up. Isola was forced to arch her back, pressing her tits even further up, they seemed as if they were begging to be abused.

Isola cried out as Duane dug his nails into her nipple, "Uuggghh o master, I'm a slut, I'm a slut. Ooo gods help me, it feels so good" she moaned,all that existed in her world in that moment was the pleasure overwhelming her mind.

Duane watched her struggling against her bonds, her hips rising up to meet his touch. Her body had finally defeated her mind. Her lust forcing her to admit what her mind couldn't. "Do you want to cum, slut?" he asked, alternating soft and rough, teasing her clit, running in fingers back, probing gently at her cunt hole. It seemed so tight as his finger tip massaged the opening, he watched her try to capture his finger, clenching her muscles to draw him in -- but that was for another time. "Ask me to make you cum, slut. Tell me what you need."

Isola felt his fingers teasing her opening, and instead of fear of him taking her maidenhead all she felt was desire. She could feel her muscles contracting greedily around his finger, desperately trying to pull his probing finger inside of her. "Please master -- please!" she grunted, her heart felt as though it was going to hammer through her chest. Her wrist circlets were digging into her flesh as she pulled at her bonds.

"Say it, whore." the king said, "Beg your master to make you cum." He caught her clit between his two fingers, squeezing the little bud, making the princess squeal.

"O gods, master, please make me cum. I need to master! I'm your slut, master! Please please let me cum!" Isola begged him, all pride lost to her carnal needs.

"Yes, yes my little slut. Cum for me." the king said as he massaged her clit, it only took a moment before she was over the edge, he could feel her cunt start to spasm against his hand, her body tensed up as her orgasm began to overwhelm her.

"Oooo gods!" she groaned as her body began to spasm and shake, wave upon wave of pleasure filled her. She felt her sex quivering wildly as her hips kept grinding against the king's hand. He kept rubbing her until her shaking became a slow gradual twitch, she lay panting for breath, spread before him, her cunt dripping its juices all down her thighs. Her cheeks and chest were flushed, her eyes closed as she slowly came down.

"Very good, pet." the king said, slowly untying her, watching as she slowly regained composure. His cock was throbbing against the laces of his pants. He would have to do something about that soon... perhaps Isola was ready for a new lesson. "I'm pleased you are beginning to accept your place here. The sooner you realize what you are the easier things will be for you." he said, his voice almost soothing as he let his hands roam her body.

"Now there is one more thing you must do for me today, slut. Do this and I will let you have your fill of my table, and return to your cell unharmed, do you understand?" he asked, his hand reaching down to stroke his cock. He knew he would not last long.

"Yes," Isola murmured, still half dazed, "Yes master." she said. She opened her eyes as the king pulled her up.

"Kneel, slut." he said, gently lowering her by the shoulders until she knelt before him, her knees resting on the cold stone floor.

Duane made quick work of his laces,untying them and releasing his cock from it's confines. His cock stood straight before him in front of Isola's pretty face. He watched her eyes grow wide as she took in the sight of his cock, naked and throbbing before her. "Have you ever touched a cock, pet?" he asked, reaching down to stroke his cock, a drop of precum oozing out as he fisted himself.

Isola looked at the massive cock before her, frightened of the angry red member. "No..." she whispered, quickly amending to "No, master." when she felt his hand grip her long hair.

"Soon you will take this in any one of your holes, slut. And you will beg for it." Duane said, continuing his slow stroke, "You will grow to worship this cock. To do anything in your power to earn my cum. Now," he said, "give me your hand." She slowly reached up her hand, he stopped his stroking and caught her by the wrist, "Touch it, slut." he ordered, moving her hand towards his shaft.

She opened her hand as he brought it to his cock, hovering over it, afraid to touch it. His cock jumped as her palm brushed lightly against the vein covered surface. "Yes... the kind said, looking down at her small hand, standing out pale against his deep red cock. "Wrap your hand around it." he ordered her. 




Training the Princess Ch. 02



The king hissed in pleasure as her hand closed around his cock, she was barely able to encircle the full circumference. His cock felt so hot and alive. Isola could feel the blood pulsing through it. It was so hard, yet the skin was soft, she could feel it sliding as she slowly began to move her hand, earning a grunt from the king as she worked his cock.

"Yes, like that." the king said, his hips pushing forward as she began to fuck his cock with her hand. That she began to jerk his cock without being told pleased him. She wanted this, he knew it. The part of her she keeps buried inside wanted to be used like a whore. The icy exterior hid a slut inside... and her exterior was beginning to melt away. He could see lust in her eyes, inspite of her fear, even as the pleasure from her first orgasm faded, lust remained.

Isola's eyes were wide as she stared at the precum oozing from the tip of his cock. She felt compelled to touch it... she reached up with her other hand, the torch light reflecting in the wetness at the very tip of his cock. She ran her finger over it, rubbing the precum into the soft skin at the head of his cock. The king grunted and pushed his cock further against her hand, pushing against her fingers.

"Yes, you dirty slut. Rub the head." he said, he could feel himself getting closer. He wanted to last longer, but his cock was ready to explode after hearing his little captive beg to cum. And here she was playing with his cock, naked on her knees before him. Her soft hands bringing him closer and closer to orgasm each second. He could hardly believe this naive girl could know exactly what to do to please a man. She continued to move her hand up and down his shaft, increasing the pressure, milking his cock. Her fingers rubbed against the tip of his member, rubbing in the slippery precum, covering the head in it.

"Faster." he barked at her, she complied, gripping his shaft tightly, rubbing him faster, breathing heavily. She found herself growing wet again, she could feel the dampness between her legs growing. Why did he affect her like this? Why did being treated like a slave for his pleasure? She didn't know, but she couldn't deny her desire in that moment.

The king could feel himself approaching the edge. He grabbed the base of his cock, pointing himself towards her chest, he wanted to cover her creamy white tits in cum. "Yes slut, keep going. I'm going to cum soon. Do you want that, whore? Do you want my cum?"

"Yes master, I want your cum." Isola responded, unsure of what to expect, but desperate to find out.

Duane grunted as Isola sped her pace, jerking his cock. He could see her tits rising and falling rapidly in her excitement. The red marks from her punishment stood out sharply in the flickering light, she stared up at him, eyes wide, she looked like the perfect slut. "Here it comes, slut." he said, moaning as his orgasm came upon him, his cum churning up, shooting out in heavy spurts.

Isola gasped as streams of cum shot out at her, covering her breasts in the clear liquid. She stared transfixed as cum jetted from his cock. She felt his cock twitching under her hand with each stream of cum leaving.

The king grabbed her by her hair, pulling her up once he was spent. He looked down at her, cum dripping slowly down her breasts, clinging to the peaks of her nipples. "You did well today, pet." he said, jerking her head back as he ran his hand down her back, smiling as she flinched each time he went over a welt. "Now clean yourself up, slut."

Isola looked around for a cloth, her eyes fell upon a stray rag on a nearby bench. The king followed her gaze, "No no, princess. You don't want to waste your master's gift." he ran a finger over her tit, collecting the cum leaking down it. She shivered as his finger grazed her nipple. "You said you were hungry pet... if you'd like to eat anything, I suggest you start with this." he held his finger in front of her lips, gently rubbing against them until her lips parted. "Yes, slut, lick it up. Suck my finger clean." he said, sliding his finger inside her mouth.

He felt her holding her breath as she cautiously ran her tongue along his finger, liking the sticky cum from his flesh. She shuddered as she swallowed the salty substance. She ran her tongue over his finger again, licking up the remainder of the sum, swallowing again, looking into his eyes for approval. She felt her stomach rumble at the reminder of food. She'd forgotten her hunger for a moment. But now that the possibility of a meal was so close she felt ravenous.

The king removed his finger from her mouth, watching as her pink tongue darted out after it, catching a spot of cum that remained on her lip. "Now the rest." he said, motioning to her tits, still covered in a layer of cum. He released her hair, and watched as she slowly raised her hand to her breast, collecting his seed on her fingers before bringing them to her mouth. She closed her eyes as she opened her mouth to lick her fingers clean, hastily swallowing and reaching down for more. The sooner this was through the better, she told herself.

"My my, you are hungry aren't you?" the king teased her as he watched her scoop up a second load of cum. "Savor it." he said, gripping her by the cheeks as she licked her fingers clean. "Do not swallow until I tell you to." he said, watching as his cum mingled with her saliva, running over her tongue. She struggled to not let anything spill from her mouth as he held her in place.

Duane scooped more cum from her breasts, shoving his fingers in her mouth, making her gasp at the sudden invasion. "Close your lips." he said, "Mmmm, yes, that's right. Now suck them clean." he sighed as her tongue bathed his fingers, lapping off the cum. He pulled his fingers clear and scooped up the remainder of the cum, "Open up, princess." he said, shoving his fingers in once more, filling her mouth with cum. "Dress yourself, slut. You're clean enough for your gown now. But remember, don't swallow." he said, lacing himself back up as he pulled his fingers from her mouth.

Isola shyly walked over towards the puddle of silk that was her gown. She quickly pulled it over herself, hiding her nakedness from the king's staring eyes. Her lust had faded, all she felt now was hunger. Hunger and shame. She tied the shoulders of her gown together, fighting the urge to swallow to load of cum resting in her mouth. She feared what would happen should she disobey, after having gone through so much that day.

"Do you still have my cum, princess?" the king asked as he led her over to the table, the scent of chicken and spices filling her nose. She nodded her head yes, praying she be allowed to swallow soon. "Let me see, pet." he said, tilting her head back, smiling as she opened her mouth, now nearly overflowing with a mixture of cum and spit.

"What a good cum slut you are." Duane teased her. "Swallow." he watched as she gulped down her mouthful, enjoying the desperate look in her eyes as she glimpsed towards the food laid out before them. "You have fifteen minutes, pet." he said, turning towards the door. He opened it and allowed two serving women to enter. "Bathe her and take her to her cell when she is through. See that she receives breakfast in the morning. And pet," he said, turning to face Isola, "Be a good girl. I'll be seeing you tomorrow." with an evil glint in his eye he strode from the room, leaving Isola alone with the serving women, and two guards flanking the door.

Isola barely heard him as she moved to the table, she tore into her meal, eating whatever she could get her hands on. She closed her mind to thought, tried to ignore the growing feelings of shame and dread that were creeping up on her. She focused on the moment, and in that moment she was free of him, and able to satiate her hunger. She knew she would have more than enough time alone with only her thoughts in the days to come.



Training the Princess



After stopping for a late meal they rode for one more leg. Isola's body ached from the long ride, her bondage and the molestations of the soldiers. She almost would rather be tied to a horse to walk than face another man hungrily grabbing her flesh. She was given to Harker, who hoisted her wordlessly onto his horse, and followed up behind her silent as shadow.

She cringed as she felt his arm go around her waist, but it was still. He did not say a word as they rode for the next two hours, just sat behind her, arm around her waist to help her balance. Isola did not know what to make of this kindness, but soon fell to a gentle sleep as Harker's stallion rode on. She was awoken when Captian Cordon called for a stop, and she was shocked to feel Harker's hand swiftly pull her dress from her shoulder, and her skirts above her knee. Not now she thought not in front of everyone. She didn't think she could bear to have them descend upon her all at once.

To her shock she was simply handed off to one of the soldiers, he smirked at Harker when he saw the state of her, and quickly groped her chest before setting her on the ground while they made camp.

They rode all day and late into the night, the dark looming tower that marked the Damdren Kingdom appeared in the distance that evening. They spent one last night camped out, planning to reach the tower or a palace the next morning, arriving soon after the sun rose.

The ride in was rowdy for the men. She was again riding with Cordon, who, excited at the prospect that he could soon have this girl all to himself, let his hands roam her body, feeling every inch of her flesh, stroking skin exposed through the rips and tears that now covered the delicate green fabric. Isola shuddered at his touch, but was unable to even try to stop him anymore. She would be in the presence of the king soon. He would learn of her identity, and demands on her kingdom would start. She could only hope her family would send someone to rescue her before anyone suffered too much loss.

The small company soon was riding under the huge gate opening before them into the kingdom. The dark stone, dirty from years of smoke, created a desolate look, with little greenery in the grounds, stumps of trees littered the grounds, the trees having long been cut down to fuel the fires kept burning day and night to fuel the city, much of which was built underground, a fortress. The tall tower was the only aboveground creation, the rest of the city was in tunnels and caves under the earth. This is why the city was considered impossible to take. Once the caves were shut there was no means of attack.

The men dismounted, their horses taken by slaves of the kingdom, dressed in black garb with shackles at their feet. A huge man stood by them, dressed in black and blood red leather armor, a long whip attached at his hip, and leaning upon a large ax, barking orders at the enslaved men. Isola was dragged into the tower, and by rope to the throne room, a long dark room lit with torches in the walls. At the far side of the room seated in a huge spiked throne was the king. He wore a blood red cloak over black and grey clothes, tighly fitted across his large muscular frame. His steel grey eyes were cold as he looked at his Captain dragging a girl behind him.

Cordon knelt before his king, roughly jerking the rope, forcing Isola down with him. She fell to the ground, barely able to keep from falling flat, she remained in that position, on the floor like an animal, as Cordon spoke "All praise King Duane, Lord of the Damdren."

"Rise." the King spoke, watching as his Captain stood before him, jerking the rope to pull the girl up as well. "You arrived back much sooner than I expected, Captain, and this doesn't look like our usual land plans." he said, gesturing towards the girl standing before him, staring blankly at the wall behind him.

"Lieutenant Harker discovered her by the boards. She told us a story about having run from the kingdom, but she was wearing this." he grabbed her necklace, pulling her by it to the foot of the throne, holding it out for the King's inspection.

"A servant girl wearing the crest of the royal family..." the King said, his eyes lingering on the girls face after examining the necklace. "A servant girl wearing the royal family's crest, and the royal family's eyes..." he said, looking into her emerald green eyes, a trademark of her house. "Captain! I do believe we are in the presence of royalty, the princess Isola if my eyes are not deceived. Ungag our royal guest."

"My lord! Are you certain?" Cordon asked, unable to believe his luck in having stumbled upon the royal princess. He slit the cloth holding the gag in place, watching as she spit the dirty material from her mouth.

"Captain, I often wonder how you manage to get your armor on in the morning. Luckily I did not employ you for you wits. But yes, this is the princess. Isn't that right your highness?" He asked, his voice dripping in false reverence.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Isola said, a flash of fear in her eyes as she quickly looked into the Damdren King's face.

His hand flew at her, smacking her sharply across the face, making her gasp. "Do not lie to me, princess. All the signs are there. The black hair, pale skin, vivid green eyes, you are the very image of the Queen. And the manner with which you addressed me could only be used by a noble at least." He watched as a tear slid slowly down her now red cheek.

"Take her to the dungeon. This girl could prove quite valuable to the war effort... Or at least to myself, I find I've grown tired of the last girl." he gestured towards a girl kneeling in the corner, a metal collar around her neck attached to the throne. She was dressed in black leather, barely covering her breasts and a soft black skirt which would barely cover her sex as she kneeled on the floor. He snapped his fingers and she rose, walking towards the throne and dropped to her knees before him.

"How may I serve you, my Lord?" she asked, her brown eyes looking at the floor in front of her. Before she was turned away Isola was able to see red welts covering the girls back and thighs, and to see her slowly rise and take what was the King called "position 5", where she kneeled on the floor, legs spread wide, with her fingers laced behind her head.

Isola couldn't believe this. She remained silent as she was led to the dungeon, praying that her fate be different than that of the broken girl kneeling in the throne room. She was dragged through underground tunnels into the deep dark recesses of the kingdom by heavily armed guards, and thrust into a cell, the floor coated in dirt and grime.

"Consider yourself lucky the King's taken an interest in you, girl." one of the guards said, leering at breasts and the flashes of exposed skin visible through her gown. "I'd like the get a ride on that" he said to the other guard, laughing darkly as he closed the heavy steel barred door of her cell.

She could hear them as they walked down the tunnel "There's the bitch in cell seven... she's fresh." the other suggested, met with a murmur of laughter as they walked, the heavy clank of their boots resonating on the stone. "Haven't had her in a while... think she's healed from last time... didn't know a girl could take two cocks up her ass..." their conversation slowly faded, and Isola was glad to hear silence over the dark words of these men. Though she soon wished she could hear their talk again over their grunts of lust and the girl begging them to stop.

She spent two days in the cell, visited only by guards shoving disgusting trays of food under her cell door. She hardly slept, the sounds of screaming women and laughing men filled the cavernous dungeon. Though the screams were better than the silence. When she heard guards going into the cells, the sounds of beating flesh and grunting men, and complete silence scared her worse than the screams. The broken women scared her. When the fight had left them and they were simply waiting for death to claim them, knowing it was their only respite.

_-'-_-'-_

Upstairs the King discussed sending a ransom out on the girl, among other uses. Breaking the daughter of his enemy... making her beg to be fucked like a pig. He almost wanted that more than the land and riches he'd demand for her. He enjoyed nothing more than training a new girl. Watching her slowly break to his will. There was nothing better than forcing an orgasm from an unwilling girl. He imagined it would be even better from the girl of his most hated enemy.

Endless council meetings were had about the fate of the girl in the dungeons. Some of his officers were all for sending her home in pieces, others for ransom, and the king listened to all. His mind was made up on one thing: He would not kill the girl, or let his guards and soldiers have her. She was too valuable. If she was to be broken it would be by him. After the second day of meetings a conclusion that greatly pleased the king had been reached... a way to fill his coffers and keep them full, yet not deny him his pleasure. While he did take council, his word was final. Any who would dare oppose him soon lost their heads, and those killed quickly were considered lucky. His dungeons were feared throughout the land, and not just for the women. 

By the time he finally called for Isola he was positive her will had been broken by her time in the dungeons. He gave his guards free reign down there, he knew what she'd been hearing -- the screams of girls in the dungeons as his guards raped them endlessly, making them bleed, making them cry out for help they knew would never come. If it was between him, or them he knew she'd choose well. That first choice would be her start,

Isola was brought up to the throne room, her hair tangled, the rags of her dress covered in filth, she had no idea how long she'd been down there... the sun never rose in the deeps of the dungeons. Her family must know she's missing by now... surely they'd look for her here. They couldn't abandon her to this cruel fate.

"Well princess, how are you finding your stay in the kingdom Damdren?" he asked, waving the guards out of the room. He wouldn't need them. This girl wasn't going anywhere. She was weak. Tired. Scared.

Isola said nothing. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She was stubborn, her nurses had always complained, and she had not been completely broken by her time in the depths of the dungeons.

"I imagine you've looked better, princess." he began, looking at the dirt caked on her clothing and hair. "You may as well be presentable. You're going to be here for a long time. Negotiations for you marriage to my eldest son have begun and we can't have his future bride looking like a street rat."

"What?" Isola asked, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. "My family would never agree to that." Her mind was racing, what was he saying? That simply couldn't be. Her family had been at war with the Damdren's for as long as she'd been alive... They would never marry her to a Damdren prince.

"Well, that's not what this letter says..." he responded, holding up a letter marked with the royal crest of Ellarie. "I suppose when the choices were I send them back your hand, or they offer it to my son... they chose wisely."

"No... they, they would never agree to that." she said, doubt growing in her mind the longer she thought about it. Royal allegiances were made through marriage often. And thinking back to her father's council meetings he was always aiming to make peace... Though he'd never suggested doing so like this.

"And why not, princess? Their daughter safe, peace between the kingdoms -- before you protest, I said safe, not happy. You'll be alive and well. A figurehead of the peace between our nations. No more raids on the outer villages, no more needless killings. I find it to be a rather elegant solution. Honestly, I'm surprised one of my scouts came up with it. Harker's on his way to a promotion... But, that's neither here nor there." he stood, and began circling Isola.

"And you could be such a lovely Damdren Princess... red would look so beautiful on your skin." he could just see her, picturing red blossoming on her pale flesh, hand prints covering her ass and thighs, crop marks covering those luscious breasts...

With a snap of his fingers two women entered the throne room, dressed in red leather bralets, their stomachs bare until their grey and red patterned skirts. "Clean our guest up... if she's to be out of the dungeons she should be fit to look at."

"Yes, Lord." the women responded in unison before bustling Isola out of the room. Her head was spinning. She didn't even know he had a son. And she was suddenly supposed to be betrothed to him. Her parents were letting this happen. The women led her to a bathing chamber, where she was stripped and led into a tub of hot water. The filth of the past week washed off of her. Her hair was cleaned, she was rubbed in oils, like a turkey dressed for a meal. The women poured warm wax over her, removing every inch of her hair... even that between her legs. They dressed her in a red gown, ties at her shoulders holding the dress in place. She was presented with a silver necklace, a dragon, it's tail and it's head connecting, forming a collar. Similar circlets were put on her wrists and ankles. So I'm still a prisoner, just a well kept one. The women were silent as they went about their work. Which worked well for Isola, she needed the time to think, to try to accept that this would be her life.

When she was ready she was lead through different tunnels, down into what seemed to be a private audience chamber. There sat the king and a round young man she did not recognize. "Ah, that's better. Couldn't have you looking like a dungeon rat to meet your future husband." he gestured towards the man at his side, he looked Isola's age, yet seemed afraid of her. Afraid of his father. "This is my idiot son, Surad. His mother was the first girl I ever broke. A strong willed creature..." his voice trailed off, visions of the dark skinned woman tied spread open to the chamber wall filled his mind. He had loved to hear her, begging for release as he pounded into her, making her cum as he filled her with his seed...

"Who failed to give me an adequate heir. Surad, though strong, lacks the mental capacity to rule this kingdom. The birth was... difficult. The midwife blamed that for the boy." Surad stared vacantly at the floor while his father spoke, not seeming to realize Isola was even in the room. "Surad!" the king barked, his son finally looking towards him, following his pointing finger to look at Isola.

"Pretty, father. Can I play with it?" he asked, his eyes roving her body. He sounded like a child, a fearsomely overgrown child. How can I be expected to marry such a man? Isola asked herself.

"Not yet, son. You know what happened to the last girl," Duane said, then turning to Isola he explained "The boy was over excited, didn't know the limits. He likes to watch them struggle, he broke a Grarik girl's neck last month... pity, she was lovely."

Isola stared in horror at the Damdren ruler, "And this is to be my husband?" she asked, a hint of her old pride sparking through, she held her chin high, meeting the steel gaze with her green eyes, pouring every drop of her discontent into them.

"Yes. And if you take that tone with me again I shall let him 'play' with you as well." the king's eyes flashed hot as he said this. He liked his girls to have some fire. And her girl she would be. The marriage was to be in title alone, he knew King Cabereth would never accept his daughter marrying him, so he opted to use his son. Though the girl would be his and his alone...

"I would rather him than you." she said, venom in her voice. His anger fueled her, she saw the lust in his eyes, knew that no matter what she said she wouldn't be safe from the Damdren touch for long. All their men were the same -- they liked force, inflicting pain on their women, humiliating them.

The king stood, and strode up to the girl, noting with pleasure that she had to check herself from backing away from him. He grasped her by the hair, pulling it back roughly, making her gasp in pain. "You will learn your place here, girl. And your training shall begin now."

He pulled her into the center of the room. "Son, you may go. Tell the guards I am not to be disturbed." Surad seemed to comprehend, at least he left the room, letting the heavy thorn wood doors shut behind him, slamming ominously, leaving Isola alone with the king.

"A punishment shall be your first lesson, girl." he said, walking to the far side of the room and picking up a short black riding crop, the firelight from the torches played off the shining leather as he gently hit his palm. "You shall learn to hold your tongue in the presence of your betters. My word is your law, as is the word of any other man in this kingdom. Should I command you to drop to your knees you do so. Should I command you strip you had better be out of that clothing in an instant. And if I tell you to service anyone in this palace you shall learn to do so with vigor." He circled her as he said this, looking her up and down, the gentle swell of her breast under the gown, the curve of her hips and ass. See was exquisite. "Do you understand?"

Isola stood silent. She would not give him the pleasure of hearing her jump at his beck and call. She would not go quietly into the life of a slave to him.

Suddenly, for the first time in her life she felt the sting of the crop on her ass. She took a sharp breath as the hard leather made contact through the thin silky dress.

"I asked you a question, I do not like to be kept waiting for an answer. I said 'do you understand?'." he waited a second, still standing behind her before bringing the crop down again, pleased to hear a slight whimper from her as he hit her the second, then the third time. "Fail to answer me again, girl, and you shall receive far more than three, and in places so much more sensitive..." he drew the crop briefly between her legs as he said this, noting with pleasure the shudder that ran through her as she felt the pressure on her cunt. "Now, do you understand?"

He had to draw the crop up before she squeaked "Yes", barely audible, but enough for a start. She was frightened. She was beginning to understand who had the power in this situation.

"Yes... what? You will show me respect, pet" he asked, circling her to stand before her, letting the crop rest on her cheek, he gently stroked down to her rip looking lips.

She flinched as the crop stroked her face, "Yes, sir." she got out, the crop tracing between her lips as she opened her mouth. She was shocked when his hand flew to her neck, pulling her closer to him. His fingers pressing into her throat, closing it to air.

"I am no knight, wench. You shall call me your lord, your master, or your king. I am all three, remember that." he growled, releasing her neck and pushing her from him, enjoying watching her cough and sputter as she struggled to get breath into her lungs. 

"Yes, master" she finally choked out, She refused to grant him a title as anything but a slave owner.

"Very good, pet. Now, on to the subject of your punishment." he said, his fingers gently stroking the crop, almost lovingly. "You have shown no respect to your king, and a proper punishment must be used. You shall learn the position, I know you shall be using it often. The first thing you must know is punishments are administered to your bare flesh. Remove your gown."

She heard the order, knowing it was not a question, and fearing the retribution should she disobey. She could still feel the grip of his hand on her throat. "Ye--yes Master." she stuttered, reaching to remove the ties of her gown, letting it fall in a puddle at her feet, standing naked before a man for the first time in her life.




Training the Princess



Duane examined his prize, his eyes taking in every inch of her pale creamy flesh. "Such beautiful skin." he muttered, as if to himself. He was accustomed to talking about women like things, for that is all they were to him. Pretty things to be used until he grew tired of them. "Now, spread your legs girl, shoulder width apart."

Isola felt a blush creep over her skin as she widened her stance, all too aware of the areas now exposed to both his eyes, and potentially to the sting of the crop.

"Lace your fingers behind your head now," he ordered, watching her comply with growing lust, "Yes, your tits look beautiful like this, sticking out, begging to be abused." he ran the tip of the crop around her breasts, circling around her nipples, watching them stiffen with the attention. "Well, it seems you like this, don't you pet?" he asked, gently flicking her now erect nipples with the crop's tip. Isola gasped as the crop lightly flicked her nipples, even the light touch bringing a teasing pain.

Isola shook her head, she couldn't believe what was happening. It had to be the cold. Yet there was no denying the tingles running through her body each time the leather rubbed against her pointy nipples.

The king laughed as he watched her blush deepen. He knew she would never admit it. Not yet, at least. In a month's time he knew he could have her begging him to use to crop on those sensitive peaks. "Well, if you aren't enjoying yourself let us move on to the punishment, twenty lashes with the crop should suffice for the first time."

Isola's eyes widened, he would hit her twenty times? The three she'd received on her ass still pained her, and there were to be more?

"Count." he ordered, not giving her a moment's time to think before he brought the crop smacking down on her ass, she gasped as the cool leather crashed into her flesh, leaving behind a burning sting. Her eyes watered, dreading the next nineteen blows.

"One." she murmured, hanging her head at the humiliation of being such a part in her own torment.

"Very good, pet, very good." he said before bringing the crop down again, this time hitting lower, closer to her thighs, leaving yet another red welt on her pale flesh. A third rained down on her even before "Two" was out of her mouth, making a twin red mark on the other cheek. She counted "Three" as he brought the crop down by her hip, then let it slowly run over her flesh. She counted out as the leather ran over the welts raised on her skin.

Duane watched Isola struggle to be maintain her pose and her silence as he beat her sensitive flesh. He knew this was the first time she'd ever known a hit to her delicate skin, much less a cropping. Watching her struggle to remain composed, and to count out each of cruel hits had his cock throbbing. His current girl, Leona, would need to be brought up from her cell tonight... he'd want release, but he wasn't ready to take Isola yet. No, he always drew out the training. Stripping away a girl's pride layer by layer, watching her succumb to his will and beg to be taken. And Isola was strong willed, he had most of his conquests crying for mercy by this point, yet Isola remained silent. He could see her tears welling in her eyes, yet she refused to cry out. She would be a challenge to break. But he would succeed. He always did in the end.

It could take months to break the girl in. Not long enough to prepare for the wedding. He would take her on her wedding night. Dressed all in white, her black hair gleaming, fresh from the ceremony, straight from the priest into the top chamber of the castle. She would scream that night. That would be the culmination of her training, she would still have fight in her, still scream and beg for mercy.. His son could have Leona. He should have a new girl on his wedding night, and once Duane trained Isola he'd have no use of her. Leona's will was gone.

"Fifteen" Isola whimpered her voice faltering for the first time, her flesh felt like it was on fire, welts covering her thighs and rear. She couldn't believe the pain she felt, yet more blows came down, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, she could barely stand, her knees were weak with the pain of it, yet she did not cry out. She would not. He wanted her screaming and she would not let him hear it. She bit back each scream that brewed up in her throat.

Until the nineteenth hit. Duane drew his arm back fully for the first time, bringing the crop down hard and fast against a particularly red welt. A cracked scream escaped her throat. "Ahhh!" she yelped, stumbling forward a step at the force of the blow.

"Yes, pet, let me hear you scream." the king said, running the crop over her stinging ass, watching the freshest hit turn a deeper shade of red. "As much as I love to hear you scream, girl, I need to hear you count. Your punishment will only be increased if you forgot your orders." he threatened, walking in front of her, looking at her face as tears gently spilled from her eyes. He ran the crop over her flesh, enjoying the sight of the shiny black leather against her pale white skin. He brought it up over her smooth stomach, running gently between her heaving breasts, caressing her with it. He went further, going up her slender neck, over the heavy silver collar he'd had made for her. The normal iron would not do for such a lovely royal girl, but she needed to know she was not free. "I'm waiting, pet. I am not a patient man." He gently tapped her cheek with the crop, peering down into her glowing green eyes.

"Nineteen, master." she whispered. Her eyes going to the floor, avoiding his hard steely gaze. With the pain running through her she feared what the crop could do to her face. She couldn't bring herself to anger him, he had the power here.

"Such a good girl," the king purred at her, gently stroking her face with the crop. "It seems you may be starting to learn your place here. And since you've been so good how would you like a special treat?" he asked, stepping closer to her, enjoying watching her shrink into herself at his closeness. "I think we will let you pick where the last blow shall fall." he said, not waiting for a reply. 

He began to run the crop over her body, stopping to tease her nipples, "How would you like to be cropped here? To watch your tits dance as the leather bites into you tender little nipples?", he teased the tips of her breasts, watching her nipples become harder at his ministrations. She shuddered lightly, and he watched her gently shake her head, her long hair moving against her pale flesh. "No? Well how would about here?" he asked again, running the crop slowly down her stomach, watching her inhale as he toyed around her navel, flicking it ever so gently. Her light gasps each time he drew back the crop delighted him.

He did not wait for her response before trailing lower still, allowing the crop to run down her freshly bare mound. He was rewarded by another gasp as he gently brought the tip down between her lips, he saw a blush spread across her chest as he gently parted her lips, "And what have we here?" he teased, turning the crop so the wide end was parting her pink lips, running the crop slowly further back, bringing another gasp from the girl as he toyed with her sex, feeling it slide easily between her glistening lips. He drew the crop away suddenly, looking at it in the light. "I see someone is enjoying this." he said, turning the crop in the flickering light, letting her see the wetness on it.

Isola's face burned red with shame as she saw him examining the crop. She wanted so badly to curl up inside of herself, not face this shame. She shouldn't be enjoying his touch. He was a monster, holding her captive, forcing her to wed against her wishing, torturing her... yet her body was betraying her. She could not contain her excitement as the crop teased her body, she felt nearly at wit's end when he ran the crop though her legs, it was all she could do to not moan like a whore as he pressed the flat of it against her, rubbing her in a way no one had ever touched her before. "No, please no." she begged, needing this to stop. It was all too much.

"No what, pet? You can deny it all you'd like, but the proof is right in front of your face" he held the crop up to her face, holding the tip directly under her nose, then gently running it over her full lips. "Do you smell that, girl? That's your desire. Your lust. Your body is betraying you. You want this. You want to be my play thing, to be used and abused as I see fit." he could see her trembling, her body ached from holding her position for so long. The pain and the tension added to her strain. "Do you deny it?" he asked, aching to touch her, but drawing out the pleasure. That would be for another day. He wanted to leave her aching confused and unfulfilled.

Isola remained silent. A tear running down her cheek as he stared down at her, she wanted to flee the room, push through the heavy doors and go anywhere, even back to the dungeons would be better than standing before him while he made a show of her shame. But she couldn't. She was afraid of the retribution should she run, knowing whatever he did would be worse than staying out her punishment. She just needed to last another few minutes while he toyed with her.

"Silence won't save you, pet. And for not answering me know that there will be further punishment." he said, his voice cold and sharp. He pushed her against the wall, down onto a high stone ledge cut into the wall below a narrow window. She shivered as the cold stone hit her ass, gasping at the roughness of the stone rubbed against her battered flesh. "Spread your legs, slut." he commanded, shoving her legs apart when she was slow to comply. "You will do as I say or be punished, girl. The longer you keep me waiting the worse it will be for you."

Isola nodded in understanding as he released his grip on her thighs, splaying her open wide before him. She silently prayed for the gods to keep her safe. She feared he would rape her now, taking her innocence, making her a sinner in the eyes of the gods. She was too frightened to move, yet at the same time all too aware of the wetness between her legs. That frightened her almost as much as Duane did.

"Spread yourself open for me," he ordered, his eyes full of lust at the sight of his young captive spread before him. She may think she doesn't want this, he thought, but her pussy was soaking wet, he could see it glistening in the flame light.

She hazarded a confused glance at him, not understanding what she was being asked to do, afraid to disobey. She saw him begin to arch back the crop, "Please, please master, I don't understand." she said, her voice barely a whisper in the stone chamber.

The king smiled to himself, this girl was more innocent than he'd dared to dream if she couldn't see his meaning in that. He took the crop, and gently ran it up her thigh, pleased to see her shudder at the touch. He could see her pulse fluttering in her neck. "This," he said, gently running the crop further up her thigh "is your pussy. Your cunt." he traced a line between her pussy lips, marveling at the slickness he found within. "That is what I want you to spread. Take your hands from behind your head and spread your cunt open for me."

It was as if her limbs were suddenly full of lead, with how hard it was to will her hands to move. She closed her eyes as her hands snaked down between her legs, gently gripping the slick outer lips of her sex. She couldn't believe how wet she was. She spread herself before him, displaying herself like a wanton whore. She could only pray that this humiliation would end soon.

"So lovely" Duren muttered under his breath, watching her spread herself, her cunt blossoming like pink flower. "Ask me to hit you." he said shortly. His eyes glued to her shining pink cunt.

Her eyes flew open, refusing to believe what she was hearing. He would make her beg to be punished? And he couldn't mean to hit her... there. Surely she couldn't stand the pain. "Please... no. Please, you can't." she begged.

Fast as lightening his hand flew across her cheek, smashing her face against the cold glass with the force of his blow. "You will not disobey me again, my patience is wearing dangerously thin for your defiance. This is your third time disobeying me. Do not do it again, I warn you if it should happen again my son will be very pleased to find a new toy waiting for him tonight. Now I tell you again, ask for you punishment, girl."

Tears welled in Isola's eyes from the sting of his hand, she had no choice but to comply or face whatever horrors his son had in store. "Please hit me, master" she whispered.

"Hit you where, slut?"

"Please hit my... my cunt" she choked out, face red with humiliation at her part in this.

He drew the crop back and SMACK the hard leather made contact with her soft wet cunt.The sound of the leather hitting her wetness mingled with her shriek of pain and filled the room. He drew back again, hitting her a second time, this time near her clit, teasing the little bud as he removed the crop.

Isola's cunt was on fire, her nerve endings flaming through her body. She'd never known her body could withstand so much pain, yet every time the crop drew teasingly away she found her hips bucking against it. Her body was operating out of her control, screams tearing from her throat, juice flowing down her thighs. She lost count of how many times he hit her, her mind of blur of white hot pain and primal pleasure.

Suddenly his finger grasped her chin, pulling her face towards his. He had the crop resting on her mound, the tip teasing her clit, her hips reaching up, yearning for his touch. She was exquisite in her pain and lust. Duane was shocked at how quickly she'd grown aroused by the crop bearing down on her cunt. She would make a wonderful pain slut for him. Her body was so compliant to his will, even if her mind was not. "Look at yourself, princess," he said, pressing the crop against her clit, watching as she struggled to still her hips. "You want this, you're body knows it. Look at you pressing up against the crop. Your pussy is sopping wet, begging me to make you cum. Is that what you want, pet? Do you want this?" he asked, flicking her clit with the crop for the first time, watching as she gasped and bucked. "Just say it, pet. Tell me what you need." He flicked her clit again, before rubbing it with the flat of the crop.

Isola did not understand what was happening, she couldn't deny to herself that she wanted it. The pressure of the crop against her was driving her wild, her hips bucked, increasing the pressure on her sensitive nub. She shook her head, refusing to give in to his will, even if her body would betray her.

"Your body is telling another story, girl" he purred, gently bringing the crop down on her cilt, watching her pink lips part in a gasp as the leather smacked against her. "All you need to do is ask for it. Ask me to make you cum." he said, running the crop feather light over her clit, watching her fight it, trying to will her body to behave.

She shook her head, her eyes shut tight, refusing to give in to him. Her body was crying out for release in a way she had never known, her mind refusing the let her. "Please." was all she could squeak out, unsure of if she was begging him to continue or to stop.

"Say it, ask me to make you cum. You know you want to. Your cunt is begging for it." he said, slowly moving the crop back and forth, flicking her clit, watching her pant in the effort of restraint.

"No." She said, her body shaking, her mind a confusing jumble, overloaded by feelings she'd never known.

"No?" the king asked, a hint of anger sneaking into his voice. She would not give in easily. Her body was on the verge of orgasm, yet she held strong. He would enjoy the day he made her cum for the first time. Making her spasm and moan in pleasure as he ripped an orgasm from her body. He would break her will. "Then you shall not have your please, slut. For your lies to me, yes, lies. You can deny it all you like but your body tells the truth - you have elected for pain." he snapped the crop back, hitting her sharply across the face, raising a red welt across her cheek to match his hand print. He gripped her by the throat and tossed her to the floor, where she landed in a jumble, her hands reaching to cover herself for the first time. "You will spend the night in a new cell. You will not be fed until you learn to accept your place." he said, placing the crop on a hook in the wall, he snapped his fingers twice and the same women who dressed her were came in. "Take her to her cell, she is to be chained to the walls and given no meals until I command it." he told them, going to sit on the high throne against the chamber wall. "And bring me Leona." he ordered, she would not have an easy day. The stubbornness of Isola left him full of pent up lust, Leona would be well used today.

Isola was ushered from the room after the women redressed her, the silky red fabric sending chills down her spine as it ran along her welt covered body. He watched her go hungrily. Her next lesson would end differently, he knew. He would have her begging him to make her cum by the end, or begging for her death.

He waited in the audience chamber, alone with his thoughts. They were full of Isola, he pictured her bound and spread against the wall, lash marks covering her body, covered in a sheen of sweat, chest heaving, begging for him to touch her.

Leona was led into the room by a guard, heavy shackles around her neck, wrists and ankles. She was brought to him naked, her body covered in fading marks from her last disciplining. She hardly needed the shackles now. Her will to fight was leaving her. But today it did not matter, her time with him would go quickly. His lust was high from Isola's first training.

"Go." he told the guard, rising towards Leona. Her eyes remained planted on the ground. Assuming her submissive stance, arms crossed behind her back, legs spread, chest out and eyes down. He ran his hand over the swell of her breast, fingers tracing over old whip marks, fading slowly against her tanned skin. "Was I too rough on you last time, slut? These marks are from days ago..." he mused, tracing his handiwork, remember her screams as he laid the whip against her flesh.

"No, Master. I only live to please you. It is my greatest joy to give you pleasure." she responded. "Would you like to whip me again, you highness?" her nipples were engorged with blood as he traced over her wounds, begging to be touched. She'd learned to love the pain. To live for it. The king was her master, her reason for being. She was his to do with as he saw fit.

"We shall see, girl. We shall see. But first go to the corner and lift your arms above your head. I want you chained." he watched her go to stand in the corner below a heavy metal chain, lifting her arms, waiting to be chained into place. He attached the chain to her cuffs, pulling the chain tight, forcing her onto her toes to remain balanced. She was stretched taut, her muscles long and lean as he locked her in place.

Duane brought down the cat from the wall, running the many leather ends through his hand as he looked at Leona, bound and waiting. She would accept whatever pain he inflicted on her, and beg for more. "Would you like me to whip you with this? We haven't used the cat in many sessions, slut. And I remember how it would make you scream."

"O yes master, please whip me. Whip your slut." she begged him, already wet and anxious for the pain.

Duane swung the whip with a sharp SNAP, watching as red lines bloomed against his slave's skin, she cried out when one of the knotted ends made contact with her sensitive nipples, the pleasure and pain tied together in her mind, one and the same. The whip dances across her body, covering every inch of her in angry red lines, deep red welts covered her skin where the knots made contact, she was soon hoarse from screaming.