5 comments/ 31001 views/ 32 favorites The Princess Club By: VividVictoria For Helen, part of the fun was pretending that she didn't know what she was signing on for. The fun was thinking the nondisclosure agreement was just a silly precaution. There was fun in thinking that no one was seriously going to violate her. And it was fun to pretend that Emma was her friend and had her best interests in mind. Emma emerged from the changing room, her tight athletic wear exchanged for a billowing blue dress. It seemed familiar, but it wasn't until Emma flipped her golden hair back and Helen noticed the black choker that the image slid into place. "Cinderella," Helen nodded, "good choice." "It was that or Aurora," Emma stared into the mirror and twirled, barely seeming to notice Helen. Helen wasn't sure who Aurora was, her education in Princess culture had been fairly rudimentary, but she kept nodding approvingly until Emma's twirl finally ended facing Helen. "So, have you picked yours out yet?" Emma asked, seemingly addressing Helen for the first time since they'd arrived at the costume shop. "Well, as a brunette, I guess my options are pretty limited to Belle from Beauty and the Beast," Helen said, holding up the tiered yellow dress. "Not necessarily," Emma chided, "There's also Jane, from Tarzan." "I don't think she's a princess." "I look like I give a fuck?" For a split second, Emma's hard sorority leader edge emerged and Helen remembered why she'd always been terrified of the other girl. After a split second, the smile eased back into place, and Helen fought hard to mirror Emma's expression, "But Belle's a fine choice." The young man who'd brought the two girls their costumes knocked once at the door and then let himself in. Helen was fairly sure she'd seen him around campus. Emma had mentioned something about the two of them having hooked up at a party, but at that point Helen had deliberately turned her attention elsewhere. In the girl's brief time together today, Helen had already spent more time listening to Emma's sexual exploits than she had total time spent having her own. "Have you ladies decided?" the man asked, his courteous demeanor having the same uncomfortable fakeness as Emma's post-freakout smile. Emma paid for the dresses, daddy's money and all, which Helen thought was only appropriate given the theme of the party. "And will you want the Tower or the Dungeon?" Helen threw a look of confusion over towards Emma, which was not returned. Dungeon? That seemed a little extreme... "I'll take the To-" she began. "The Dungeon," Emma cut her off sharply, finally returning a look that bore more hallmarks of sinister than sweet, "We'll take the Dungeon." The man looked back at Helen, someone finally throwing back the confused look, but Helen nodded meekly. The Dungeon it is. The same courtier crossed down the hallway into the men's changing room, where Emma's boyfriend was awkwardly trying to get his tunic fitted. "We have a number of suites available," the courtier said, this time dropping the pretense of graciousness as the boyfriend had never registered the other man's presence, "including pillory, study, dungeon, tower..." "What?" he said, finally looking up from the mismatched gig-line. "Oh, uh... Tower. That sounds fine, put me down for that. Hey, are you sure this is the right size..." It was, but the courtier didn't answer as he wrote the man's name down. The Tower? But Emma was... it took all of his three hours of minimum wage job training to suppress his smile. He wrote the boyfriend's name down next to the Tower, and slipped his own on the list for the Dungeon. Emma was nearly a half hour late to Helen's house. To be precise, Emma's boyfriend was nearly a half hour late. Emma was only riding in the back. She was 21 years old and hadn't even deigned to get her driver's license. Someone else would always drive, and that was Emma in a nutshell. It did have its advantages though. Helen looked down at the yellow dress, whose bodice hugged her petite frame until it billowed out below there. The poofy shoulder pieces had almost matched Emma's, but at the last minute the other girl had decided to tailor hers so the shoulder straps were cut low, on level with the heaving breasts, and leaving her elegant collar exposed save for the black choker around her neck. Their elbow deep gloves still matched, though Emma's was silver and Helen's was yellow. A few strands of Helen's rich auburn hair fell down in her face, but most were held back in a mix of a braid and a low ponytail. As she looked at her outfit, she realized it was probably the most "dressy" she'd ever been in her life. By now, she'd almost entirely forgotten about the contract... about the true purpose of the party. As soon as she looked up, the Limo arrived. The door swung open and Helen saw Emma sitting inside, waving her hand frantically, "Get in!" she shouted, "We're going to be late." As soon as she climbed in, Emma quickly pecked her on the cheeks formally and then turned to her boyfriend in the front. "Let's go! Don't worry about tickets, the cops here all know daddy's plates." Emma's perky but fairly volumous breasts were almost fully exposed in the pumped up cleavage of her dress. Her blonde hair was pulled up now into a high bun with a silver tiara laced in. She'd fit her stereotype perfectly, having been a cheerleader for years until focusing more on her sorority activities, and it still carried in her body and her demeanor. There was even a slight southern twang that, in its own curious way, seemed to fit the aesthetic of the classically French princess perfectly. Helen had almost missed it, but Emma wiped a glob of creamy white away from her lips. She turned to Helen with a faux-innocent smile when she noticed the other girl staring, "Isn't a girl entitled to a little cake before her party?" Helen didn't respond, though when Emma turned away, she did furiously wipe the lingering wetness away on her own cheek. After a long trip down the forested driveway, the looming castle of a home came into view. There were already several partygoers in immaculately accurate fantastical costumes. Among them Helen spotted a few members of Emma's sorority as scarily perfect Snow Whites and... the others extended past Helen's knowledge of Disney films. The thought had occurred to Helen several times before now, but she finally couldn't put aside articulating it. This may have been her last chance. As Emma reached for the car door, Helen grasped her smooth, ivory shoulder and asked, "Emma... why am I here?" Emma responded with a curious look, though Helen suspected it was a delaying tactic. "We have a couple classes together, but we've never hung out before now," Helen continued, "and I'm not in your sorority, so why am I here? In fact, I always kind of had the impression that you didn't like me..." Helen caught most of the expressions that flittered across Emma's face: fear, coyness, even a strange moment of outrage, before the persona resumed and the cool princess demeanor smothered them. She didn't respond though, and she slid out the door her Prince Charming had opened. Helen quickly got separated from Emma, though she always remained in orbit around the blue-silver princess as the latter mingled around the party. Helen tried mingling too, but discovered quickly that the crowd was as predictably "not hers" as she'd expected. She tried imitating Emma, who was nursing a bottle of champagne, and tried to allow a wine bottle to escort her around. She quickly found encouragement with her new friend and settled down by the garden fountain with another brunette in a sea of blondes. Her new friend wore a pinkish toga, her curly hair was kept up into a high ponytail, and she seemed to accept Helen's company more out of a disinterest in taking the time to shoo her away. "Is this your first?" her new friend asked. Helen nodded. Her first? She wasn't even aware that this was a thing that happened more than once. "Well, don't struggle. If you struggle, they'll probably rate you higher. You can't be sure, but they're pretty sick that way." "Rate me?" Helen didn't dare ask the question out loud, but that didn't keep it from haunting her mind. "What the hell is going on?" Suddenly, a bell rang from across the compound. Her friend Megra grabbed a collar from her purse and latched it around her neck, then linked it to a chain dangling along the fountain wall. She lounged against it and nervously looked over her shoulder at the sound of voices. "You'd better go find your fantasy," Megra whispered, "or someone else might pull you into theirs." Helen lifted her yellow skirts and ran as fast as her heeled feet would allow her to. As she neared the maze around the back of the home, she ran directly into a man who instinctually enveloped his arms around her. He felt familiar, but the mask over his face and the soft tingle from the wine immediately eliminated any possibility of remembering his identity. "This isn't yours," the man said, and she looked over his shoulder to see an Alice, as in from Wonderland, slip into the maze. "I'm sorry," Helen stammered, "I'm headed to-" "The dungeon, I know. Follow me." The man led her into the estate, passing an Arabic woman in a shockingly see-through outfit suspended in an elaborate rope network. He led her down a corridor and a set of stairs until letting her walk into a cold cellar. Where there weren't wine barrels around the walls of the expansive room, it was exposed stone, and in the center a sizeable square was set aside and lit by candles. Seated there was Emma, and despite her regal pose, the woman emanated sex more than ever before. The lower tresses of the gown had been trimmed away, the remaining short dress revealing crossed legs in thigh high white stockings and, obviously, a pair of glass stilettos. "Well finally," she hissed, "What took you so long? Get started." The man quickly looped a silken black strip of cloth around Helen's yellow-glove covered wrists and, like a leash, pulled her forward into the center of the room. Emma's smile broadened, but it was now more openly sinister. The man tugged the other end of the cloth over the lit chandelier above them. "Wait, what's going to ha-" the statement was cut off with a gasp as he tugged the cloth around the chandelier and tied the other end tightly to a pillar, forcing her up onto the tips of her shoes as her arms were pulled tight over her head. Emma stood and crossed the small square to bring her face close to Helen's. "Daddy's money is running out, and you're our ticket to the grand prize. If The Master chooses you, me and my boyfriend," she nodded her head towards the man who'd guided Helen in, "will get a million dollars. We've already got a lead with the first round set. All that's left now is to show you your place, but leave enough of you for four more rounds of fucking." Her slender fingers slid up along Helen's torso before firmly grasping the hem of Emma's dress. "You're our whore now," she said, the sinister grin never leaving her face as she fiercely ripped the bodice away, shredding the shoulder straps, and the top part of her yellow dress falling to her waist. Helen started to scream, but Emma's hands were full of some silvery blue fabric that she immediately stuffed into Helen's mouth. After a moment, Helen realized what it was. The lace of Emma's panties filled her mouth. The mix of Emma's juices and, presumably, her boyfriend's cum began to seep down onto her tongue. She tried to spit them out, but Emma slapped a strip of silvery duct tape over Helen's mouth. Emma stood back for a moment and her eyes ran up and down the top half of Helen's exposed body. Helen could feel the warmth of the candles on her bare, teardrop breasts, though the room was still cold enough to leave her upturned pink nipples jutting out. "I hate you so much, you pretty little bitch, and I'm going to get so fucking turned on watching my boyfriend fuck your pretty little ass, so save your screaming for that." But even as all of the swirled around in Helen's mind, there was one piece that didn't make any sense. Where was Emma's boyfriend? Was he somewhere in the room? Because the man who'd brought her in wasn't him. Helen only pieced it together from the shocked look on Emma's face a moment later. "Sit back down, whore." Emma tried to spin around, but one of the man's hands seized her blonde hair and pushed her face forward into Helen's exposed breasts. The other hand took her wrists and pulled them behind her back, tying them with a similar cord to those that bound Helen. "Who the fuck are you?" Emma howled, her voice reverberating off of Helen's breasts as the blonde girl was pushed between them. Suddenly the man reached around and seized the top hem of Emma's dress, tugging it down just beneath the girl's heaving breasts, pushing them both together and upwards. The perfect pink nipples jutted out of the pale globes. As she was leaned over against Helen, they dangled tantalizingly below her like ripe fruit. "You should have followed the rules, you little slut," the man reached forward and, with one tug, pulled the rest of the yellow dress to the floor, leaving Helen standing in just her heels, the gloves, and the black thong she'd worn under the dress. Helen's eyes were still wide and the grunted under the filthy gag, but she wasn't quite as fiery as she'd been a minute ago. The masked man reached forward and stroked her cheek while the other hand, laced in Emma's hair, still held the woman's face deep in Helen's cleavage. "You, on the other hand, are getting off a little easier tonight." Slowly, the man tugged on Emma's bun, pushing her lower and lower on Helen's body. "You think you can get away with this," Emma started to scream as her pouty red lips reached Helen's naval. "You fucking bastard." Helen stopped fighting entirely as she felt Emma's lips reluctantly brush over her waistline, and her eyes started to glaze over as the other woman as pushed lower. Those eyes wandered up and down the masked man as the hand that wasn't holding Emma in place began removing his own clothes. The jerkin and pants fell to the floor to reveal what, under normal circumstances, might have been considered an attractively average body, if not an averagely attractive one. Helen's growing urges were compounded by Emma's hot breath spreading against her thighs and warming those thin panties. Finally the free hand wrapped around the back of Helen's neck, pulling her in for the man to kiss along her neck. "What the fuck are you..." Emma started, but the man's the other hand pushed Emma forward, forcing her lips to full envelop Helen's already soaking cunt. The frantic obscenities didn't stop there, but the vibrations only served to send shivers throughout Helen's body while the man bit at her neck. As the lips reached her ears, he softly asked if she'd cooperate when he removed the gag. With a grunt and a nod, she consented, and he peeled the tape away and retrieved the panties from her mouth. Discarding them aside, he took her in a full kiss while his hand compelled Emma to circle Helen's clit with her tongue in small circles. The blonde complied reluctantly, and the effect on Helen was reflected in the passion of her kiss. As the man pulled away, he locked eyes with her. "I'm going to fuck you now." It was a statement, but in other ways it sounded like a question. Helen bit her lower lip sheepishly and nodded. The man jerked Emma away from Helen and up to her feet. He shuffled her over back towards her chair and pushed her back down again, quickly rebinding her arms behind the chair and her ankles to the wooden legs. Emma never looked up at him, continuing to glare spitefully up at Helen through the few strands of blonde hair now fallen in her face. Emma glared as if the whole thing had been an elaborate conspiracy on the brunette's part rather than her role as an unwitting participant. She kept her lips pressed tight together as the man waved a bright blue ball-gag in front of her face, and she held out through a firm smack to her left breast, but yielded after a sharp slap to her face. After the gag was fitted around her, Helen noticed that both her cheek and tit still bore a bright pink hand-prints. From a nearby bag, he also took out a familiar piece of glass. The champagne bottle Emma had been carrying, still mostly full. One of the man's hands wrapped around Emma's throat, not squeezing too tightly, but pinning her to the back of the chair while the hand retrieved the bottle and slip it up against the blonde's increasingly wet pussy. Helen watched in increasing admiration of the man as he poised the lip of the bottle against her entrance. Emma writhed in the chair, those perky breasts jostling from side to side. Without saying a word, he pushed the bottle in, the neck slowly disappearing into her even as her his raised off the seat to accommodate the advance. The silver and blue skirt still covered her thighs, so Helen couldn't see the bottle in play, but she could hear it in Emma's frequent grunting and the sloshing as champagne filled her pussy. The man worked the bottle more furiously, ramming the bottle faster and faster down to the widened base. Helen imagined Emma's inhibitions loosening as her body absorbed the alcohol flooding her cunt. After a few minutes, the man pulled the bottle away from her thoroughly ravaged body and took a swig of whatever champagne or juices were left. But the coupe de grace, which even Emma's widening eyes indicated she hadn't anticipated, was the industrial size vibrator retrieved from a bag. Finally, Emma began to squirm and let out muffled screams as her skirt was pulled up to around her waist and the round end of the device was taped to the chair between her legs. She finally looked up at the man, pleading, and let out a sharp squeal as the machine was activated. The man ignored the trembling protests as he crossed back to Helen, whose eyes followed his movements with a transfixed interest. She tried to turn her head over her shoulder as he passed behind her, but his hand darted around and seized her chin. Her gaze was locked on Emma, on the beads of sweat rolling down the woman's heavily made-up face, some dripping down on to the heaving breasts now stiff from the attention between her legs. "Are you going to..." she began but the man silenced her with a finger from her chin shifting to her lips. He pulled it away, and a moment later a strip of black silk crossed over her eyes, bound deep in her auburn braid. For a moment, there was no sense of touch, and the only sound in the room was the dull humming of the vibrator. Helen shifted uncomfortable, her body just now beginning to notice the soreness in her arms, but a quick graze of a finger over her left breast evaporated that thought. It was only there for a second, then gone. Another moment without touch or sound, and then a finger trailed from her knee up to her inner thigh, then gone again. The movements repeated along her body in random patterns, but always caressing a sensitive spot before disappearing. After a few moments, they grew more bold, some pinching at her breasts while others slipped beneath the hem of the thong. Eventually, one hand found a semi-permanent home alternating between tugging and caressing her breasts. Another reached down to where Emma's lips had been, an area still slick from her spit and Helen's own enthusiasm. Lightly, the fingers began to push against her clit. Teasing, probing, circling. Helen wasn't sure when, but at some point he'd removed her panties. His hands were now cupped between her thighs, tenderly but with a dedicated purpose. Everything between his pinky and thumb alternated between her pulsating clit and the increasingly wet entrance to her body. Small circles in one, probing slips into her body at the other. Back and forth, Helen never really sure when to expect a shift. Suddenly, she felt something throb against her lower back, but the horror only really set in as she felt it descend down the crevice of her perky ass. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes, smearing against the interior of the blindfold. The Princess Club Ch. 02 "Running through the forest?" Donna wailed, her hazel eyes fluttering between her stepmother and Donna's new red shoes, "In these heels, are you serious?" Her step mother didn't look up from the vanity, never breaking pace with applying her heavy makeup or lacing up her formal gown. "Donna, my dear, did you really think we'd find the most attractive ruffians in town and set up an elaborate birthday party, complete with a hunt for you through the forest, only to have you slip away?" At the mention of the hunts, Donna felt goosebumps run down her arms and felt her puffy nipples suddenly harden and strain against the silken blue blouse. Her stepmother showed no indication that she'd noticed, but this was more often than not a sign that she had. Donna decided to press her luck though and let her slender palm wander over to her yellow skirt, casually but firmly pressing just below her stomach and indulging a little in the sensations that were beginning to creep outwards from between her legs. "The bell will strike midnight any minute now, my sweet, and you're not ready," her stepmother chided. The woman stood, her silky black hair tied back into a bun. With their high cheekbones, their supple figures, firm breasts, and full red lips, many mistakenly believed that the older woman was Donna's birth mother. It was, at the very least, obvious to see that Donna's father had certainly had a type. "It's my 19th birthday and it's my party, I should be able to dress however I want!" Donna protested. She'd been thinking about this all day. She and her friends, who were also invited, had whispered about tonight at ballet class earlier that day. She hadn't managed to pry any information on the festivities from the security chief, Eric, despite repeated efforts with various amounts of sweet and sultry applied throughout the ride home. She had even let certain... indicators of her interest show through the thin black leotard, but it was no use. Donna had been pulling the white stockings up to her thighs, but stood when her stepmother faced her. Her stepmother moved with a certain ominous grace and regal dominance that Donna had not quite managed to replicate. Her own haughtiness seemed to come across as petulance, and her stepmother was quick with rebuke. She moved behind her daughter, who at that moment had become too petrified to follow her motion. Donna felt her stepmother's fingers lace through her shoulder-length black hair, and without warning, seized the roots tightly and shoved her back down in to the chair. Donna gasped but made no other nose, leaving her legs spread and her arms by her side. "If you want to dress like a common whore, I'll have you dragged into the kitchens and fucked by so many cocks you'll be bedridden for a week," Donna was nearly as shocked at the image as she was at her mother saying the word 'cock', and she shook her head (untruthfully) when her mother asked, "Is that what you want?" Never relinquishing her hold, her stepmother moved back around to the front of her daughter. Her stepmother's long dress hugged those hips and breasts one unfamiliar with their relation could have thought Donna had inherited. The woman pulled Donna's face forward, close enough that her breath spread across her mother's groin. Donna began to wonder at the woman's intentions, as she had many times over the years, but like always they amounted to nothing. The stepmother tied a red ribbon through her daughter's hair, topping it off with a bow. The slender hand snaked down along Donna's pale cheeks and seized her by her chin, pushing the girl back against the chair and running her eyes down every inch of the girl's costume. "And now you look the part," she said, "A perfect Snow White." The woman looked up and out the window to the heavily forested backyard of their mansion. "You'd better run along now, I do believe it's all about to begin." Donna nearly tumbled down the stairs, for the first of many times cursing her mother's insistence on the bright red heels. When she'd come into the foyer, the scope of the night's activities finally settled in her mind. Aja, her beautiful olive-skinned math tutor, was completely suspended in ropes woven between the room's columns. Her arms and legs were twisted behind her back in a number of knots, and the ropes crossed over and around every curve of her body, their tightness contrasting sharply with the loose and see-through blue fabric that could barely be said to cover her. She wriggled a little, but it was a hopeless situation. After a moment, she looked up and saw the stunned Donna. She smiled awkwardly, but didn't have any words to erase the discomfort of her student seeing her in this position. Donna was more disappointed that uncomfortable though, suspension had been her idea, and she was furious that her mother had wasted it on a lowly tutor. Donna kept moving through the castle, through the cellar where a blonde woman in a blue silver dress sat in a chair with some sort of device between her legs. The woman briefly pleaded for help, but Donna kept moving. She pushed out the back door to the edge of the dark forest. She looked around but didn't see any sign of followers. She wondered if maybe her mother had misled her about this whole scenario. With some hesitation, she started off at a run into the woods. The trees, which had started interspersed at great distances, began to grow denser the further she travelled. Sweat beginning to glisten in her bosom, she slowed to a trot, and when stray branches began tearing at the hems of her dress, she could barely even manage that. "This is absurd," she groaned as one twig snagged the puffy fabric around her shoulders, threatening to tear the corner loose entirely. She turned around looked back towards the house, where a few gaps between the trees les a golden gentle golden light through. She walked back that direction, and began running when the trees spread apart again. Tears started to flow down those perfect pale cheeks while the arguments and insults against her mother's disappointing party began to fill her mind. She reached the tree line when an arm caught her by the waist and pulled her back into the woods. She flailed her arms wildly but the arm from around her waist reached out and seized her wrist, the other hand looping it around a cord. Before she could bring her other hand over to free herself, that one too was caught in a rope and pulled the other direction. Her vision was poor in the darkness, but the golden glow from the mansion allowed her to see the outline of the ropes pulling her wrists tightly to either side, wrapped around the thick trunks of the trees at the forests' edge. The thoughts of pleasure vacated her mind for a moment while surface level instincts against violation rose up in their place. She tugged wildly, and uselessly against the cords. She'd started to scream, but the man's leather hands came up to her face and seized her jaw, strangely enough keeping her lips wide. Her shrill cries were unintelligible murmurs as the hands kept her mouth open. Donna felt something stuffed between her red lips, and the deeply held fantasies flashed through her mind. She'd become something of an expert on the several types of gags erotic stories on the internet had taught her about. But this didn't seem to fit any of them. It stretched her mouth wide and the man kept pushing in until she was forced to bite down. Her lips sank into the skin of the thing, and sweet juices lined her lips. "An apple?" she tried to ask, but only the suggestion of the word slipped out of the unconventional gag. Suddenly, the man was nowhere to be found. She mouth was held wide, which kept her from releasing the apple, but it was pushed too deep in her mouth for her to bite through it. She turned her head from side to side, a few strands of black hair slipping free of the ribbon and falling into her face. The hands slid down her face, over her bare collar, and began tenderly groping her breasts. Through the apple, she groaned, momentarily losing her sense of the situation. His hands enveloped her tits, fully enveloping and massaging them with a surprising tenderness. Her eyes rolled up and some of the juices began to run out of the corner of her mouth. She felt her hips naturally pushing back against him, only momentarily becoming alarmed as she felt something heavy throbbing against her skirt. She was shaken back to reality when his boot kicked her feet apart, the heels digging into the damp ground. One hand, mid fondle, grabbed the top of the blouse and pulled it down with the tug, leaving her right breast jutting out into the cool night air. The wind whipped against her body, but she knew her swollen nipples were hardened more by his touch than the temperature. The other hand slid down behind her back, finding her legs above the tights that had become uniform among the princesses of the night. "You're not my first tonight, you know," he growled in her ear, the slight Scottish accent giving him away as Eric, her stepmother's the chief of security. "But that just means you and I have longer together." Suddenly his hand had cupped her ass, squeezing, drawing out a squeal from the girl in his grasp. She wondered, now, how many times he'd covertly watched her sleep, watched her shower, watched her touch herself. Donna wondered, at all of those ballet practices, how many times he'd wanted to bend her over the front of the car and savage her innocent little body. She'd had her suspicions before, but now she could almost be sure he'd been having her stepmother while her father was away on trips, and now she wondered if the whole time he'd been violating her stepmother, he'd been thinking of Donna. There was something vaguely sick, almost incestuous about the whole affair, and she hated the way that thought set her body on fire. While she wallowed in ecstasy and self-pity, his hand had slid under her ass, two thick fingers running along the thin strip of silky fabric covering her cunt. From the one boyfriend she'd had in the past (appointed by her stepmother), Donna expected him to immediately pull the fabric aside and have his way with her. She wavered on whether or not she still considered herself a virgin, because the experience had been so brief and surreal. She expected him to only last a minute or two, barely making an impression before dumping his seed onto her back. She expected him to be gentle, likely out of fear of hurting the Lord of the Manor's daughter. But this... this was not at all what she expected. His fingers kept sliding up, grazing over her lips before finding the tender bulb hidden beneath the folds. Somewhere in all of this, the other side of the blouse had been pulled down too, and her conical breasts jutted out towards her father's home. The skirt was rising up around her hips now, and she felt that bulge from before grinding against the perky white ass beneath the silk. Over the fabric, his fingers worked circles around her clit timed perfectly with his pinching of her nipples. In similar unity, sometimes his hands would fully encompass the soaking region between her legs while the other hand would maul her breasts. Instead of cupping her from underneath, he reached around her hips now. His palm cupped at that bulb, while the fingers slipped lower and pushed against her opening, blocked only from their advance by the thin silk. But they pressed deep enough that they rubbed against the sensitive rim of the opening, sending wild vibrations and sporadic vibrations down her legs. Suddenly, the hand at her breast pulled away, but before she could wonder at its absence, it returned with a smack. The apple stifled her groan. She threw her head back, eyes locked up through the branches on the stars. Another muted scream never left the tree-line as his hands left their heavy red mark on her breasts. The stringing in her upper half contrasted wildly with the waves of pleasure, the two mixing in her stomach. The lines in her mind muddled between "fuck" and "fight". Her upper body thrashed and flailed against his onslaught. She had enough room in the ropes to shake her arms a little, which resulted in nothing but causing those perky tits to dance from side to side. The juices from the apple began to dribble down her chin and a few droplets mixed with saliva slicked her cleavage. But between her legs, her own juices were overflowing. The panties had gotten bunched into a thin strip of floss almost fully swallowed by her inflamed lips. Yet, his hands still kept the fabric between his fingers and her entrance despite her body now grinding, craving his invasion. She wasn't even aware of her nearly bare ass pressing against his hips until she felt a sudden flush of head and a throb against her back. As the lace was pulled down her slender legs, she suddenly awoke from the trance, but it was too late. The expensive undergarments were stretched beyond repair between her outstretched ankles and in their place she felt his horridly thick shaft moving along her slit. Twist her hips as she might, she couldn't dislodge him as the head made its way towards her opening. With one hand on the small of her back, he pushed her torso as far forward as the bonds at her wrist would allow, while the other hand around her hip pulled her lower half towards him. The hand on her back slid up towards her hair, gripping it tightly and jerking back, forcing her to look up towards the house. Forcing her to look to the window, where her stepmother watched distantly with a sinister smile. The plunge. A flash of heat spreading through her body. Suddenly, he was inside her. Her body didn't surrender, but her mind knew this was it. He was going to fuck her. No... he was fucking her. Ruthlessly. His push continued until she thought it would burst through her stomach, but she knew even better than she did what her body's limits were. He didn't bottom out against her hips, at least not at first. Once he reached halfway, he slowed to a stop, then pressed in another inch or so further, like a colossal icebreaker pushing its way into the unpenetrated depths of her glacial womb. He'd pull back, just a little, and then thrust deeper, again and again until finally she felt his hairs tickle her entrance. He filled her, finally thrusting his shaft fully inside her until his balls nestled pressed against her folds. She turned her head over her shoulder, short dark hair twirling around her shoulders as she did. A few dark hairs remained plastered across her face as her hazel doe-eyes looked, pleading back at him. Maybe to stop; maybe not. With the apple stuffed between those lips, the huntsman assumed the latter. He seized her hips with both hands, pulling out almost all the way, and then driving back into her body. Before she could recover, he pulled out and rammed in again. With the striking force, her feet kept shuffling forward, but his hands pulled her hips back into her until one of them seized her hair by the roots and forced her face forward again. Her red heels dug into the dirt. Her wrists twisted around the cord, knuckles white as she seized the ropes holding her arms out wide. He pounded her, faster and faster, with her lily-white breasts bouncing wildly and clashing against each other with every thrust. The rhythmic smacking of those breasts and his hips against her ass filled the forest. They drowned out her muffled grunts as even those began to pass into desperate groans. Donna's legs began to quiver and give out as her full lower body lost control of her ecstasy. The huntsman seized her thighs, pulling her back and forcing her legs to wrap around his hips. With the angle he held her at, Donna was only supported by his hands on her hips and the ropes to the trees. The breasts now dangled below her with each thrust. The cold night air ran goosebumps all along her exposed body. A long strand of drool and the apple's juices trailed out of her lips. The screams from his thrusts were now distinguishably filled with pleasure-frenzy. Her gentle hips shook is his hands. Her body tightened around him, almost keeping him from withdrawing, but he didn't allow her to slow his blitz. Her arms thrashed more wildly than before, her whole upper body quaking uncontrollably. Suddenly he felt her body explode with a wave of heat and fluids. Her chest heaved as she struggled to regain her breath, regain her composure, as her juices coated his shaft. He suddenly dropped her and she collapsed onto her knees, her wrists held wide above her head. With the flash of a knife, the cords fell away from the tree, and Donna fell forward onto her bare hands and knees. But Eric was right behind her again, and this time his cock was positioned a little higher than before. She squealed and bit into the apple, fiercely enough that she took a slice out of it and it fell into the grass. "No! Please!" she wailed, "Not my-" But before she could finish, Eric had seized the apples from the leaves below her and stuffed the other side of it back into her mouth. As he reached over her, his cock slicked from her juices slipped into her ass with surprising ease. He drove into her, thumping the base of his shaft against her firm ass. She reached back with her wrists to claw at him, but he caught the loose ropes and tightly fastened the wrists together against the flat of her back. Without support, she fell with her cheek pressed into the leaves. He grunted as his cock throbbed inside of her and he felt himself finally lose control. With professional precision, he pried himself out of her tender ass and pulled her around to face him. To his surprise, the pleading and confusion had evaporated from her eyes, now left glazed over with the submission she'd signed on for. He reached down and slowly pulled the half-eaten apple away from her mouth. He had another use in mind. He expected to have to slap her, to hold her nose shut, but she immediately complied with his unspoken command. With those big brown eyes locked up on him, she immediately wrapped her apple-juice stained lips around shaft still coated in her juices. After managing to fit the head in her mouth, she steadily worked her way down his shaft. The remains of her orgasm spread across her lips like a thin gloss as his head thumped against the back of her throat. She drew back off of him, then right as her lips reached the tip of his head, she's slide him deeper into her mouth. Again his cock prodded the back of her throat, and again, and harder as both hands went to her head and steadied her as he began to ram against her face. Finally, his cock lodged against her throat, and he didn't pull away. She let out an uncomfortable gurgle, but didn't pull away. Donna's eyes shut for a moment, and a few tears slipped out of the corners, but a moment later he felt a tug as her throat pulled his cock deeper into her. Suddenly, her lips were sealed around his base, her nose nestled in his hair, and his balls pressed against her chin. Shifting his view, he could see his own shaft throbbing against the outside of her neck as it completely filled her. Those tearful eyes opened again and looked up to him for some sign of satisfaction. A moment later, she felt her confirmation. The opening salvo of his long withheld climax shot directly into her stomach, with the some slicking the inside of her throat as he began to pull out. Just as her lips were working down the shaft, he stopped them right at the ring around his head, and the second burst coated her tongue in sensations of salty sweetness. Given her giddy ecstasy as he filled her mouth, he tempted to let the second burst loose in the same spot, but he had his own pleasures to address. Partially, Donna had genuinely enjoyed the taste of her kidnapper, but partially she was concerned he'd be able to somehow stop his endgame and continue his violation. It had met her expectations, certainly, but every muscle in her lower body screamed with the dull ache of a woman whose been fucked in a way she never could have imagined. One for the books, but she couldn't take another minute of it. She was surprisingly relieved, then, when the unexpected third blast coated over her right eye, forcing it closed, and ran down along the side of her nose. The fourth and final shot had aimed to replicate this result, but she'd reeled back with her surprise and it fell short of its target, splattering against her milky breasts and slowly oozing towards her cleavage. She instinctively tried to wipe her face clear, forgetting that her hands were still tightly lashed behind her. With her one good eye, she looked from her glazed chest back up to Eric. The Princess Club Ch. 02 "Finish," he ordered, and she immediately leaned into his shrinking member, kissing up along the mostly limp shaft to clean him off completely. After he was satisfied, he pulled her up to her feet. She could barely stand, and was only able to do so with Eric's hand around her throat. She swallowed what remained of his climax in her mouth, though she could do nothing to clean the rest of it off of her chest and face. "Now, run back inside and tell your mother that the job is done," Eric growled. Donna's eyes widened a little more as they looked back down at her shredded clothes and wriggled her wrists in their bonds. "But aren't you going to-" Eric spun her around and pushed her forward, giving her sore and reddened ass a firm slap when she didn't move immediately. She stumbled, almost drunkenly from the sheer exhaustion in her legs, back towards the compound. Her struggled to move was compounded by the red heels, which were all that remained of the clothes she'd started the night with. She had no energy to sneak, and reach the mansion's edge while festivities were in full swing. She had no energy to take much note of the men's and women's hands that reached up and groped or tugged at her breasts. She had no energy to swat away the fingers that prodded her raw entrances, even had her wrists still not been tightly fastened behind her back. She barely had the energy to reach the top of the stairs, push open the doorway, and collapse into her silken sheets. She didn't bother to try and free her wrists, the looming figure of her mother crossed behind her and freed her. After a weak attempted at clearing Eric's globs of drying cum away from her face, Donna let her arms and legs collapse where they were. She tried to watch her mother cross back over to the vanity on the far side of the room, where she'd no doubt be prepping herself for her own suite at the party, but Donna's eyes couldn't manage stay open for the whole trip. Her mother began asking a question, but before Donna could hear it's end, she'd already slipped into dreams of next year. The Princess Club "P... please," she stammered. "Please what?" he hissed, "'Please fuck me in my ass?'" At hearing the words she gasped, though it also could have been that the head of his thick cock had found the entrance to her never-penetrated hole. "No!" She wailed instinctually, stamping her heeled shoes against the stone floor. The man seize her brown braid and jerked her hair, forcing her to arch her back and push her own ass deeper against him. She also knew that it jutted her breasts out towards a now much-antagonized Emma. Helen's cry turned to a whimper as she felt her body trying, and struggling, to accommodate for the rod now poised to penetrate her. "Please, not there," she begs, but he reaches around and seizes her nipples, tugging them with a gentle firmness. "I will fuck you where I want, how I want," he said, pressing himself fully against her. She nodded and let out a slight whimper. "Beg me to fuck you," he said. Though she couldn't see anyway, she still tried to turn her head over her shoulder towards him, but his hand in her braid kept her facing forward. "F... fuck me, please." "You know what to call me." She didn't, but she went with the words that seemed to come naturally. "Fuck me... master." A moment later he slipped his cock under her hips, against her soaked pussy. Hands still cupping her entrance, she bit her lower lip to avoid letting any sound slip as he guided himself into her. She couldn't resist. As the head pushed fully in, she let out a sharp gasp, drawn out as the shaft easily followed. The tension in her wrists was a little less, allowing and almost forcing her to lean forward slightly. The first pump was gentle, exploratory. The throbbing head navigated deeper into her womb, finally reaching a deep settling point, sending heavenly shivers through Helen's body as he pulled, just slightly, in and out. Gradually, that soft pull in and out become more exaggerated. Soon, the pulls brought him to a near complete withdrawal, only the head remaining in, followed by a sudden thrust that took him deeper than the first pump. A slow with drawl, and a pump. Faster the fourth time, faster even still the fifth, until the teasing probe became a full onslaught. Were it not for the bonds and his hands gripping her braid, she was sure she would have collapsed once he'd hit certain triggers deep inside her. Her legs quivered every time his balls swung up and slapped against her clit on a deep thrust. She could feel her perky tits bouncing gently with every thrust. As the man fucked her relentlessly, the silk blindfold began to come loose, eventually falling around her neck. She had almost entirely forgotten about Emma, and the sight of her suddenly triggered the sounds her mind had been tuning out. Beneath the remnants of her elegant evening gown, Emma was a sweaty mess. Strands of stray blonde hair clung to her forehead and her breasts, now glistening with the thin sheen of perspiration, most showed the quivering that wracked her whole body. Somewhere during Helen's violation, the man had turned the remote up on Emma, and the high pitched whines from both the machine and the woman indicated that it was having a profound effect. Emma's eyes locked back onto Helen's, but the hate was gone, replaced with the same glossed over primal urge that Helen knew she must have on her own face. Her trance was broken by the hiss of a knife removed from its sheath, but a moment later the knife slashed at the bonds holding Helen's hands up. Exhausted, Helen, would have dropped to the floor had the man not caught her and gently lowered her, his cock never leaving her body. His hips followed immediately behind hers, and she received to reprieve as he pushed her onto all fours. Her face was eye level with the vibrator. She could smell Emma's perspiration, and the other woman must have felt Helen's breath running up her thighs. "I think it's time for you two to make up," the man said. He pushed Helen just an inch further, so her chin hovered just above the whirring vibrator and her lips were pressed against Emma's swollen cunt. For a moment, she kept her lips tightly shut, muffling her groans as the man continued to fuck her on all fours. However, a painful slap to her ass cheek forced a squeal from her, and the man took advantage of the lapse to compel Helen to wrap her lips around Emma's sensitive clit. The blonde threw her head back, wailing into the blue gag as Helen's tongue run up and down the soaked ravine of Emma's pussy. Helen didn't know why she complied with the man's command, whether it was out of some deep desire to see Emma pleasured or out of another sick desire to see her suffer. Either way, she continued to press her tongue in tight circles around Emma's clit and tried to ignore the streams of the other girls juices now lining Helens lips. Like before, she couldn't turn and look, but she felt the man position himself on his knees behind her. His cock slapped up against her cunt, and with a thrust she felt his now-familiar shaft filling her body. She realized now that she'd ached for him, and even before he seized her hip, she felt a part of herself pushing back against him and driving his cock deeper. The forceful pounding pressed Helen's face deeper into Emma, until her nose was nestled in the trimmed blonde hairs and her tongue lapped at the opening of the woman's body. The ravaged Cinderella stared down her body to lock eyes with Helen, both of them wearing their own variants of rage and dumbstruck awe. There was a brief intimacy there in their mutual hatred and their shared physical experience. Minutes passed, and Helen began to feel Emma's legs quivering uncontrollably. Emma's rage gave way to shock as she felt her body approach an unwanted climax, starting in her cunt and slowly spreading throughout her entire body, just on the verge, nearly at the tipping point. It was interrupted a moment later though, when the man grabbed a handful of Helen's hair and jerked her back. In another motion, he ripped away the bonds holding her wrists and seized her arms, wrapped around the elbows, and held them behind her back. She was pulled up into an awkward crouch, her face just an inch or two from Emma's. Suddenly, with the angle he was striking into her, she felt a quick spasm and a sudden, powerful release. Her body thrashed with the sudden force of the orgasm. She threw head back and contorted her face, as though to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. Her arms and legs involuntarily kicked and thrashed wildly, but he held tightly onto her and held his body inside hers. She felt him shudder momentarily, and then he erupted inside of her. Their bodies both tensed, then she felt his cum fire up into her womb and fill her pussy. He pulled out just slightly, and pushed in again, another wave pushing the first to the entrance, where drops of their mixed juices began to run down the inside of her legs. "Fu... fuck..." she groaned, feeling her body go limp in his arms. After a minute, he pulled away, and the uncorked cum spread into a warm mess around her thighs. The man lowered her to the ground and left her there for a moment as she caught her breath. Her hand crossed the stone floor and weakly but lovingly stroked along the man's legs. He stood, letting his soaked and emptied cock rest against her cheek. Her whole body was still on edge, Helen could see it in the now familiar spasms that pulled at her tight arm and leg constraints. In what now seemed his often replicated move, he grabbed her hair and pulled it back to force her big blue eyes to meet his. The other hand gently removed the ball gag, letting it fall with the pearls to dangle between her breasts. "Who owns you?" he asked. "You sir," she answered without a moment of hesitation, eyes darting between his face and the cock now poised just ahead of her. "Please may I..." "Who is going to the final round?" "I am sir," again, no hesitation. "Ple-" "Do you want me to fuck you?" Her eyes lit up, "Yes sir, please fu-" "No." The fire immediately left her face, replaced by confusion, and then a bitter glare. "What do you mean 'no'? I'll do anything for you, please, just..." "Yes, you will." He answered, and with that he tucked his cock back away into his pants. He took Helen by the arm and pulled her up to her feet, not bothering to restore any of her tattered clothes to her before walking her out of the room. Emma writhed as much as she could in the chair, but the edge of her body still couldn't reach the vibrator in the chair. "Goddamnit," she wailed after them. And as the door clothes, she took a deep breath and tried to get her sex-craving body back under control. It wasn't working. "Well... shit."