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The Spoils

By: Contrarian



The Silver Haired Man took the hand of his exquisite and very tall companion as they advanced to the first cell. The metal wall shimmered to allow them to see in, the occupants unaware of the voyeurs.

It was a wide sterile room of an unknown white material. On the opposite side of the room, a tall, well muscled bald man of perhaps 30 stood with his hands to his hips. He had a red goatee, his skin was covered in tattoos including a large one of a cross stretched across half of his chest. 

There were two women with him, each no more than 5'1. One was perhaps 20, maybe Brazilian, with smooth light brown skin with a thick ass and hips. Her perky B cups were topped with impossibly large dark saucers surrounding her large erect nipples. She squatted on her heels before him, slowly working his meaty, nine inch erect cock into her moist mouth. 

Her saliva coated his thick member, even reaching his balls below, and the petite youth stretched her soft red mouth as wide as she could manage. She pulled back her thick brown curls with one delicate hand to allow him to watch her work his cock. Her plump wide backside jiggling in time with er head bobbing at the large dick. 

Behind him, an athletic blonde was on all fours, her tongue buried inside his muscular ass, fluffy billowing D cups swaying as she worked her tongue past his rim. She moaned with faked gusto as she slowly circled his most sensitive spot with her extended tongue. 

Both women were obviously tired from long effort and covered in sweat. Finally the tattooed man raised a hand to stop and roughly pushed them away.

As the women knelt on the floor, looking at him with pained expressions. He simply barked roughly, "Forget it; I just don't feel it tonight. Fuck, just like every other fucking day."

Unseen, in the hallway, the tall observer smiled to her companion, as she silently recorded this turn of events.

*********

James cracked the knuckles on his hands as he stared at the 6'4", bald, goateed thug sitting across from him. The bald thug looked tough, but James was quite fearsome himself. He had seen this man many times before in the Challenge Room. 

Each week they dragged James and his girls from his cell to face some challenger. Sometimes they were new, but most often he had seen them before. Every week the same ritual. He and lost track of how long he had been in this strange cycle. A year? Five years?

The bald man had two fine looking bitches sitting obediently behind him, naked except for their leather collars, one brownish olive skinned, one a bleached blonde trailer tramp with beach balls for tits.

They looked great, and he grew hard thinking about taking them. 

But James was pretty happy with his two women. Both were hot and willing: one a lithe blonde, the other a heavily pierced Goth-like brunette. 

Neither was completely adjusted on his overly long and thick dick, even now. Ten inches was just too much, they complained. The way they begged not to get fucked just made him want them even more. 

James measured the other man again; James was as tall, and looked as strong. Only their style differed. James's hair was a striking green, its long punk spikes jutting in every direction. He had an "Anarchy" tattoo of a Red A surrounded by a poorly drawn circle on his neck, to match the myriad symbols down his back.

As he stared at the women across from him lustily, the tall bald man sitting across from him repeated his statement.

"It's been almost an hour. You know the fucking rules, I gave you the challenge. Yes or no, you fucking pussy? " 

Then the bald man repeated, "You afraid of I'll kick your ass?" Then he stared at James with a scowl. "Or maybe you more afraid I won't win?" 

James sat rigid, sweat pouring from his face to the white metal below. His veins on his head bulged slightly.

Finally the green spiked warrior mouth curved in controlled anger. "No. Fuck it. Fuck you too. It's not worth it. I decline. Just get me and my bitches back to our cell." 

The Tall Silent Woman watched through the wall intently, her hand letting go of the Silver Haired Man's, in disappointment. This was another non-event in a seemingly endless series of non-events. In many of the weekly confrontations there was not even a challenge. Most challenges were immediately declined. But they were so close this time, she could sense the boredom and need for action building in both the Humans. She also knew that their need to assert superiority was building, to move a little further, slowly but clearly once you knew how the Human male worked.

Then. 

The Punk Haired man stopped just before he reached the now opened door. "You asshole. I will fuck you up. I accept. I am going to be fucking all sorts of strange pussy tonight."

***

The two young college students shivered in the hallway, each trying to cover his meager penis with his hands. Each was average in height, somewhat slight of build, a little thin and obviously terrified, as they were led to a forming window, growing organically from the strange metal itself as if unseen hands working soft clay.

They looked on horror as two athletic looking black men grappled viciously in a large white metal arena. Behind them two women were chained to on the back wall, standing on their tip toes, their arms stretched upward by their silver manacles.

Both were short, perhaps 21. Each was cheering one of the two combatants. One of the girls was Caucasian, with freckles covering both her face and her ample bosom. She thrashed in her chains, the cold silver metal glinting as she struggled to get free to help her man. She was topless, with a thick green spandex collar and a green bikini thong. The students noticed she was cheering the wrestler in tight green shorts. 

The other woman was a slender, very dark-skinned African American. Her soft C cups jutted confidently from her taut frame. She wore a blue collar and a tiny blue bikini bottom. She was not thrashing about, but leaning forward shouting intense encouragement to the other fighter, clad only in blue pants.

The men were obviously battered, and one's eye was almost swollen shut, blood trickling down his brow.

One of the two pale students exclaimed "Why have you brought us here? We will never fight like that for you! Are you crazy?"

The Silver Haired Man smiled.

"Oh, I think you may eventually. You are exactly evenly matched, from your weight, to your lack of prior fighting experience, to your four inch penis." 

His companion motioned toward them. The man continued. "Hmm. Only two inches now. Let's see if we can get them to four inches."

And he took them to the next cell, a clear window smoothly forming.

Their host threw his arm widely: "Should you win, you will grow stronger, much stronger and taller. And even your penis, it will grow several inches upon victory."

And he led them closer to the now formed window. "And there are other spoils besides that to consider."

And they looked in as a nearly seven foot bald man stood in the middle of the large room. The man was covered in tattoos, had a thick scarlet goatee, and a large cross across his chest.

He held his massive rock hard cock in one meaty hand, at least a foot long, as he approached a table in the on the far side of the giant white cell.

Two women were on each side of the white metal table, holding down a pale, strange haired woman.

One of the college students asked in a small voice "But, what does the loser get?"

And the Silver Haired man just smiled as he moved down the hall, leaving the two students to watch.

The newly abducted students just watched as the giant rammed his arm-sized penis into the quivering pussy of the woman on the table, as a small-breasted wide-hipped Brazilian woman stood up to straddle her face. As the woman lowered her wide brown ass and dripping pussy, she mashed the laying girl's bright green spikes and stunning face between her large smooth thighs, until only a tattoo of a Circled A remained.

The Spoils of War



The witch cowered behind the barrels next to one of the few remaining tents scattered around the campsite. He short dark hair was plastered to her head, damp from sweat caused by trying to fight the Death Eaters. Her wand had been lost earlier in the evening, and, much to her embarrassment, she'd had to resort to hiding. She hadn't been able to find another, and a witch without a wand was an easy target for a Death Eater. She hadn't wanted to hide, but she'd wanted to die even less.

A noise in the near distance made her stiffen. She forced herself not to run and clamped her mouth shut to stop the scream that was forming. Her eyes darted around, trying to locate the sound. Nothing. She relaxed a little. She couldn't see much in the gap between the barrels, but she hoped that meant she couldn't remain concealed.

Another noise. Much closer this time. She looked once more, and then leapt back in alarm, nearly knocking into the tent. A handful of steps in front of her hiding place stood the worst Death Eater of them all; Barty Crouch Junior. She knew his face well, although she had no idea how he'd escaped from Azkaban. Her heart was thumping so loud she was sure he'd hear her. As if reading her thoughts, he turned and faced the place she was hiding. She help her breath and waited. He seemed to see nothing, but as he turned away, he stopped. A smile slowly crossed his face and she shivered involuntarily. 

'What have we got here!?' he waved his wand and the witch felt herself standing, despite all her efforts. 'A run away!' His grin grew wider as she struggled to escape. His current hold on her was weak enough for her to wonder if he wasn't up to full strength. She was able to take a few steps back, but too late she realised her mistake. He'd allowed the space, letting herself back into the tent behind her, letting her trap herself.

He advance slowly, wand raised, an evil look on his dark face. The stubble that had grown since his escape showed his gaunt cheeks and gave him an unearthly look.

As he advanced, he looked briefly behind her. With a flick of his wand, the tent opened, and she felt her body float gently into the room behind her until she hit a supporting pole. A rope snaked its way around her body, tethering her to the support. The Death Eater surveyed his handiwork, before turning and casting protective spells. The witch's heart sank. The spells were not ordinary ones. He wasn't protecting her. He was preventing anyone from disturbing him. He wanted her all to himself.

When he was satisfied that they would not be stopped, he turned back to his spoils of war.

He decided against the imperious curse. It took all the fun out of it. The years in Azkaban had taken it's toll and he wanted to feel the struggle and the fear. The ropes snaked away from her body almost absent-mindedly, and the witch could feel control come back into her body. Just for a moment, she wondered if he'd done it by accident, but even though she knew it wasn't true, she tried to run for the entrance. His back was turned, and she hoped, just for a second, she'd make it.

Then she hit the solid, invisible wall in front of the tent opening. She hit the space with her fists and sobbed. A low chuckle behind her made her turn. He was facing her now, his hair falling in front of his dark eyes, which flashed dangerously.

'Did you think it would be that easy? Did you think that I was that stupid?' He laughed again, and waved his wand. She felt her arms and legs bind themselves again, and he waved her over to a large bed hidden in the corner. The witch started sobbing again, which only made the Dark Wizard's grin widen.

He placed her on the bed, and her arms and legs were pulled back towards the bed posts, cords twisting themselves tightly around her wrists and ankles. Her fingers grabbed the knots trying to undo them desperately, a last ditch attempt to get free of the sadistic grin that was descending on her.

The wizard checked the ropes were secure before uttering an incantation the witch didn't recognise. It took a minute before she realised he'd deftly removed her robes. She shivered in the cold, her nipples stiffening as she lay bound on the bed. Slowly and carefully, making sure her eyes were firmly fixed on him, he removed his own clothes, leaving them on the back of the chair in front of the bed. He knelt beside her, and stroked the hair from her face. She shivered again, and he smiled. 

'Don't worry. We've got all the time in the world. His hand left her hair, and moved slowly down her face, tracing the line of her jaw, before moving slowly down her throat. 

'You see, it's been a while since I had any fun. So we're going to take our time.'

He long fingers trailed downwards, across her collarbone and began to gently circle her breasts. She felt her skin bump at the touch, and flinched as he twisted her nipples hard. She bit back a scream, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her pain as well as seeing it. The reaction only served to fire him up.

He dived on her, his teeth biting into her shoulders and arms, before taking the place of his fingers on her nipples. He bit down harder, looking into her face, grinning wickedly, waiting. She resisted for as long as possible until her was biting so hard she wondered if he'd drawn blood. She finally gave in, emitting a scream of pain so loud she was sure someone would hear. He laughed, and clamped down on her other breast, pulling with his teeth until she screamed again. The second scream made him sit up. 'That's what I like to hear!' His low voice made her cringe and her body trembled as he continued. 'There's no chance of anyone hearing you sweetheart. Scream all you want. In fact, the louder the better.' His tongue flicked out quickly, giving him and unearthly appearance. 

She struggled again against the rope. She had enough pull to reach the knots, but even as she did, she knew it was pointless. The Death Eater was playing with her, allowing her feeble struggles to turn him on even more. He was getting off on her helplessness, and though she knew that, she struggled nonetheless. 

He lowered his head once more, and rained more bite marks down on her tender skin. His fingers gripped her waist so hard his knuckles went white.

The bite marks continued downwards until he reached her stomach and thighs. She tried to close her legs in vain, but he dug his nails into her flesh and relished in the sound of her pain as he broke the skin and thin droplets of blood ran down her legs. Letting go of her thighs, he reached forward to her pussy lips. With no messing about, he pushed two fingers deep into her, regardless of how dry she was. He closed his eyes in pleasure as her internal muscles pulled him in despite her revulsion and she caught her breath. His fingers pushed further into her, reaching the edge of her cervix, and causing a stabbing pain in her lower abdomen. She cried out, and he forced another finger into her. Bending slightly, he flicked his tongue out, touching her clit momentarily. The witch jumped, amazed that such a small movement had created a deep need in her for him to do it again.

He fucked her with his fingers hard for several minutes, enjoying the sensation of her pussy around his fingers, before pulling out. Giving the girl another evil grin, he pushed his fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself. She tried to bite him, compensation for the bites he had given her, but he held her chin. He looked mockingly at her, and shook his head.

He knelt between her legs, struggling to remain impassive for much longer. He raised his eyebrows as he looked into her eyes. His tongue snaked out again, giving her a split second warning before he forced his hard long erection into her. He stopped for a second, revelling in how tight she felt. The witch whimpered beneath him, and that was all the impetuous he needed to begin fucking her with complete abandon. He grabbed her shoulder and used her body to pull himself in further, listening in pleasure to her pain and the pleas for him to stop. As she pleaded, he moved his hand between them, and began to rub her clit fast, making her body begin to give in to the sensation. Her pleas became less verbal as she felt her clit begin to tingle. The wizard rubbed faster until she could resist it no longer, and came hard, disturbed by the ease at which he'd broken her. Had she enjoyed that?

He continued to fuck her, forcing his cock into her harder. He reached up and grabbed her left breast, squeezing it hard, and twisting it. She screamed again, louder than before, and he laughed maniacally. With one last hard push, he came inside her, breathing heavily. He rolled off her, and lay panting. Silently the witch prayed it was over. He'd had his fun. 

He was silent for so long she wondered if he'd fallen asleep. She quietly reached for the rope once more and managed to prise loosed a knot. Encouraged, she kept twisting, trying to keep her body as still as she could in case she woke the dark wizard next to her. Elated, she managed to get one hand free. Using the free one, she released the second and leant forward to release her legs. As carefully as she could, she slipped off the bed, and, throwing her robes around her battered shoulders, moved to the edge of the tent, feeling the invisible wall to try and find a hold she could use to escape.

Unbelievably she felt a slight tremor in the wall, and pushed to try and get through. She felt the resistance begin to break and pushed harder, forgetting to pay attention to what was behind her. As her hand went through the barrier she felt herself fly backwards, and land on her face on the bed, the dark shadow of Barty Crouch falling over her prone figure.

'Did you really think that I'd be done so quickly? I've been locked up for a very long time.' A grin formed once more on his malevolent face, his eyes glinting. 'I'm not done. Not by a long stretch.'

His hand traced the contours of her spine down towards her arse. The goose bumps formed on her skin again. He chuckled and dipped three fingers into her waiting pussy. He could see her muscles trying to contract, to close her legs and force him out. To prove his power he pushed another finger in, hearing her gasp. While his fucked her with the fingers of one hand, the other was kneading the cheeks of her arse together, before splitting them apart slightly. The witch stopped struggling as she felt his thumb touch her. She knew what was about to happen, and knew no amount of struggling would change it.

'Please. Please don't.' She also knew begging wouldn't help, but didn't seem able to stop herself. 'I'll give you whatever you want.' But even as she said the words, she wondered if she really wanted him to do it. 

He laughed loudly. 'You're about to, whether you want to or not!' 

The witch started to sob again, her body shaking. The Dark Wizard knelt forward and pushed his cock, now hard again, into her arse, feeling his fingers still imbedded in her pussy.

Her arse was tighter than her pussy had been, and as he began pumping into her, he watched her hands tighten around the ropes that had re-secured her to the bedposts, this time giving no slack or hope of escape.

She stilled her body, trying to stop him enjoying himself, but realising what she was doing, he reached up and pulled back on her hair, causing her to call out. His fingers twisted, pulling her back, arching her back, pushing him deeper into her. He let out his own groan now, forcing himself to control his urges.

It would be all too easy to give in now, to allow the pleasure to over-take him. But he wasn't ready to give the witch the relief. He slowed his pace, relishing her tightness. He pushed himself into her as far as he could go, and stayed still, feeling the witch's body tremble. He ran his hands across her shoulders and down her back before slapping her soundly on the backside. The witch's whole body jumped and tensed, giving the wizard an intense pleasure. He slapped her again and again, each slap reverberating around the tent and becoming harder and harder. He began to leave hand prints on her skin, as it turned more and more red under her hand.

His slaps began increasing in speed as he got closer to coming, and he began to fuck her again, moving his hips in time with his hand. The witch started screaming again, tears of pain streaming down her cheeks. The rough sheets beneath her were rubbing on her clit, and she could feel another orgasm building. The witch began to pant, and tried to stop the impending orgasm, but the slaps that continued to come added a delicious pain that she couldn't resist, and she came once more, her pussy juices dripping down her legs. With a shout, the Dark Wizard came hard, giving her one last slap before pulling out of her. He laughed as her body relaxed. Once more she thought he was done. But he had one last think to do before he left her.

Waving his wand, he removed her ropes and manipulated her body into a kneeling position on the floor in front of him. She looked into his hard, cold brown eyes, her own stained and red from crying. A slow smile spread across his face and he moved towards her, his cock regaining it's hardness as her eyes travelled downwards. 'Open wide!'

She tried to keep her mouth closed, but he slapped her, leaving the outline of his long, slim fingers on her face, matching the ones on her red, raw backside. As she opened her mouth to scream, he pushed his erection into her, gagging her.

She tried to clamp down, to force her teeth together, but all her efforts were in vain. He held the back of her head and fucked her mouth in earnest. Her tongue was placed so it ran his whole length as he forced himself in and out of her mouth. She could still taste herself on him, and the sensation of that, coupled with the way his cock was reaching the very back of her throat caused her to gag, but he carried on regardless.

He wound his fingers in her hair and pushed himself harder into her, feeling his need to come building once more. As she began to get used to the length of his cock in her mouth he pulled out and covered her face with his come.

He released his hold over her body, and she fell, exhausted from the abuse. When she had the energy to look up, he was gone, and she was alone. 



The Spoils of War



Prince Richard and his young beautiful bride, Antoinette enjoyed the perks of being royals and the comfort that came from not being in too close proximity to succession to the throne. Richard was third in line for the crown. His older by two years, brother Isaac was destined to rule Mauria, which suited Richard perfectly. Isaac's young son, Samuel was technically ahead of Richard in the line of succession. His father, King Otto was still a relatively healthy and vigorous man, who might live for several more decades at least. Richard knew that chances of ever ruling Mauria were slim. Not that, if pressed, Richard would have made a bad king, far from it. But attending the openings of libraries and inspecting military bases suited Richard fine. He greatly enjoyed the occasional anonymity he could disappear into from time to time.

That his brother had emerged as a hero in the recent conflict with Denovia caused Richard to vanish even further into the background. Richard had served as well, but had been kept far from the action. King Otto understood publicity and image. Setting his heir up as a hero in the public's imagination would help the crown in both its long term and short term goals. Nothing made the public more accepting of a future king better than a bit of battlefield drama. How could one disparage a king who had fought and risked his life alongside the lowest ranking men of the military? That Isaac's heroics were largely the creation of war correspondents carefully vetted by the crown, was not an issue that bothered the royal family one whit. Isaac COULD have been in danger, had he fallen off his horse!

Cadesh, the new province that Mauria had won from Denovia was prosperous and would make a fine addition to the kingdom. Isaac had been named Duke of the province he had "captured." Striving for benevolence he had lowered the local taxes. On the other hand, Mauria agents and assassins were hard at work behind the scenes ferreting out dissent and shutting down opposition newspapers. After a few years of this "velvet hand" style of rule, the subjects of Cadesh would have their rebellion and discontent entirely bled off. 

Antoinette, Richard's wife of just over two years had the same attitude about the throne as her husband. She was hopelessly devoted to Richard, but the fact that he would never rule had been a huge factor in his favor. Antoinette had been the daughter of a duchess and had seen her mother take the throne upon the death of her father. Exposed to the everyday minutiae, boredom, and loss of privacy of being a ruling royal had long drained from her any desire to fill her mother's shoes. Still the idea of her marrying a commoner was laughable. Fortunately, the world was full of superfluous royalty; although few were as handsome as her Richard. Antoinette was quite smug in the fact that all that the only royal obligation expected of her was to produce a few children. But with the birth of Samuel and the current pregnancy off Antoinette's sister, she could postpone that unpleasantness for at least a few more years. Antoinette knew that she was blessed as few women. No money worries, activities that were interesting and filled her time and a very handsome husband who adored her.

Richard was quite proud of Antoinette. She was slim, with dark brown hair, large brown eyes and angelic features. Although her subjects would never know these facts, Richard was acutely aware that his wife had fantastic long legs and luscious, middle sized breasts. Richard got her naked quite often. Because they could so often be away from the glare of publicity, Richard an Antoinette were apt to get frisky just about anywhere. More than one maid or butler had been startled in encountering Richard hiking up his wife's skirt in royal hallways or empty ball rooms. Of course the maids and butlers appeared non-pulsed by the royal shenanigans, but inside they seethed. Still, they were not apt to complain or tell tales out of school. Even after two seasons as man and wife, the nickname for the couple about the palace was still "the newlyweds."

Having just passed their anniversary, Richard asked his father if he could use the royal yacht to take his bride on a celebratory cruise. "After all, now that the building christening ceremonies are over the crown doesn't really NEED me for anything until next month. All the public cares about presently is young prince Samuel and his heroic father; who is going to notice that the current favorite's uncle and the hero's brother is not around?"

King Otto returned his son's smile. "Your wish is granted, your highness, although I believe in all honesty that you are spoiling that wonderful young woman you married."

"On the contrary," retorted the prince, "She is spoiling ME!"

With that the two men exchanged nods and Richard and Antoinette began packing. The palace released the fiction that the couple was headed inland, to a romantic inn in mountainous country. Richard marveled at the abilities of the royal press corps to construct fictions. They were even set to publish his wine selections for the meals he would eat in three days' time! "We really are sort of like phantoms, my dearest." Richard boasted to his wife. "Were we not to exist, we would have been created by the pens my father hires. Sometimes I think the phantom Richard has more fun than the real one."

With that he turned and took a long lustful gaze at Antoinette. "But then again, the phantom Richard has no idea what shade of knickers you wear and how wondrous is the view when your knickers are absent."

Richard winked at Antoinette who laughed in response. The fact that they both had such active libidos was just another stroke of luck in their storybook marriage. Certainly they were happier than Prince Isaac and his wife, Princess Eugenia. Loud arguments were sometimes heard emanating from that couple's private quarters. Rumor also had it that Isaac was keeping a mistress in town. Richard had asked his brother point blank the truth of the whispers and received a vague answer. Richard knew that it WAS doable. A secret tunnel exited the palace not far from an inn. Wearing a disguise, the heir to the throne could enter and leave the establishment unrecognized and unmolested. Richard hoped that it was not true, but he and his brother, despite having shared the same upbringing, had very different attitudes towards women.

Isaac was a fervent womanizer while Richard was strictly a one man woman. The thought of cheating on Antoinette, nearly made him physically ill. King Otto did not chastise his sons often but the last time he did he railed on Isaac for being a dissipater. "Eugenia is as fine a woman as lives; you should treat her as such." Roared the king to his son.

Enraged Isaac had screamed, "Stay out of my bedroom, old man!" It took all of Richard's skill as the family diplomat to patch things up between his brother and his father. To his considerable credit, Isaac did seem remorseful and was faithful, at least for a while. Richard often found himself the fulcrum between his male relatives, trying hard to maintain his balance while each applied pressure towards the middle. Of late, Richard had tried to back away from this traditional role. Otto and Isaac had agreed to disagree and Isaac's new war hero status had given him, for the first time, an identity distinct from his father. All of this seemed to reduce considerably, the chip on Isaac's shoulder. A vacation would also give Richard's knotted insides some time to relax and heal. Making Isaac an out sized hero had been one of his father's best gifts to BOTH of his sons. 

Richard and Antoinette packed light, meaning two trunks and ten suitcases. Most of the excess was Antoinette's; she simply could not be talked or cajoled into taking less. In fact Richard was just grateful that it all would fit on one carriage. That made getting away easier. Despite his claims of being phantoms, Richard and his bride were not entirely invisible. To hoodwink the public, with great fanfare an empty carriage departed for the mountains while Richard and Antoinette watched from a concealed perch in the palace. Long after nightfall, Richard, Antoinette, their baggage, and a small handful of servants departed in secret for the coast. After an uneventful drive the sleepy royal couple reached the royal docks just before dawn. Far from the prying eyes of the public, the Royal yacht, Champion slipped its moorings and began to dart across the Sea of Tyron.

The intended sail was a leisurely dart across the sea to a small coastal estate that Richard's family owned in the friendly country of Leen. As the sun neared its zenith, Richard and his bride Antoinette were relaxing on adjoining deck chairs. Both were dressed comfortably. Being away from the eyes of commoners meant that the royals, for a change, could dress as commoners. Richard wore khaki pants and a simple cotton shirt. Antoinette had a more difficult time dressing down, but tried to please her husband, She wore a simple dress, of the type popular with the housewives of Mauria. Antoinette's however was made out of much finer material and was tailored to her slim frame. 

The first hint of trouble was a sudden appearance of a puff of smoke and a whiff of gunpowder. Suddenly the Champion was surrounded on all sides by Tertran pirates! More than a dozen Tertan ships appeared as from nowhere, quickly a contingent of the ships separated the Champion from its royal navy escort. Richard would have liked nothing better than to join his guards in battling the pirates who were rapidly closing in upon the royal yacht but his primary duty was to his wife.

Calmly, so as not to panic Antoinette, Richard led his bride to the strong room below decks. Only after they were behind the thick oaken doors did Richard inform his wife of the seriousness of their situation. So intense was the expected battles that not even a single guard or maid could be spared to tend to the prince and princess. Every member of the crew from the royal elite guards to the butlers, maids, cooks and deck hands armed themselves with any available weapon. When the regular arms ran out, the royal protectors utilized oars, rolling pins and cooking spits. Even as the soldiers and civilians took up their positions they realized the hopelessness of their task.

While half a dozen of the larger pirate vessels attacked the royal escort ship, a second half dozen surrounded the much smaller yacht. The battle, such as it was, did not last long, Scores of pirates tumbled over the gunwales of the neat and trim yacht from all sides at once. Not even the highly trained elite guards could defend themselves from such a coordinated attack. In short order the guards were all either killed or disarmed.

Richard waited in the strong room, his ear pressed up against the door. Despite the thickness of the wood, Richard was just able to discern the sound of the battle. There seemed to be far fewer gunshots than he would have expected. The din seemed to be one long crescendo before an ominous silence fell. Richard tried to calm Antoinette. His bride feared rape or slavery.

"We are too valuable for such a fate." stated Richard confidently. "Once they figure out who we are they will offer a ransom to my father. They may already know who we are and are planning just such an eventuality."

"But those pirates..." began Antoinette.

"Have nothing to gain and everything to lose by harming us." replied Richard, cutting off his wife's thoughts. "If they so much as muss our hair, my father the king, will see to it that they are eviscerated.."

"I wish I shared your confidence, darling." stated Antoinette softly.

For the longest time, the deafening silence and the gentle roll of the ship occupied their thoughts. That changed once Richard noted that the Champion was once more under sail and at full speed. Richard and Antoinette did not have long to ponder what this new information might portend because all almost that same moment noxious smoke began pouring into the small room containing the royals. The pirates who had captured the vessel understood that the safe room needed air vents. From those same vents putrid smoke now streamed. The choice was obvious to Richard, surrender or suffocate.

Had Richard been alone, he would have chosen a hero's death, dying rather than yield. But his life was not the only one at risk of forfeit. The coughing and discomfort of Antoinette was too much for Richard to bear, realizing that it was his only option, Richard removed the heavy beam affixed across the door and threw open the portal.

Out of the acrid smoke loomed the face of a hideous pirate. Following Richard's lead, Antoinette fell to her knees and raised her hands in supplication.

"Ah the man of the hour and his missus." said the pirate contemptuously. Antoinette wanted to shrink away and will herself into invisibility but within a nonce, both she and Richard had their hands bound behind their backs and were being led topside.

The fresh sea air soothed the couple's aching lungs, and it was nice to see the sun once more. Richard took a look about the deck of the Champion. In scattered places pools of blood were congealing. Other pirates were policing up the cast off weapons and swords of the late crew. Richard was puzzled as to where the crewmen of the Champion could be. He saw no bodies on the deck, nor were there any visible floating in the Sea of Tycron.

As if reading the prince's thoughts the commanding pirate stated, "Your men and women put up a valiant fight. Those that survived will soon be on their way to the slave markets of Krown. Those that did not survive will find other uses such as bait or packages for the bone merchant. This vessel will make a fine flagship for the pirate fleet. As for the two of you..." 

Richard followed the gaze of the chief pirate to spy a rapidly approaching black ship with black masts and black sails.

The pirate captain continued, "If I had my druthers I would ransom you but I honor my agreements. The information he provided was accurate in every detail. We put the torch to your naval escort, and I shall be proud to call this ship my own. All in all, a wondrous day. I figure those successes are easily worth the two of you."

For the first time, Richard had an inkling why, he and Antoinette had been left unmolested. The fact that Antoinette still wore her strand of expensive pearls, and jewels upon her fingers and earlobes made no rational sense unless all of the effort to capture them served a larger purpose. Richard felt that the current drama he and Antoinette were living might end very badly.

The black ship pulled along the Champion and a plank was stretched from one vessel to the next. Richard's heart fell and Antoinette cried out in fear at the sight of the crew of this strange vessel. The crew was clad all in black, complete with face disguising hoods. It was obviously calculated to maximize fear. In that are it succeeded in spades. Richard's blood froze in his veins. He wanted nothing to do with this forbidding looking craft.

"Fair pirate captain, if you take charge of us and return my wife, myself and the Champion to Mauria, I will make you wealthier than you can imagine."

"Shut it royal peacock! I shall be paid very well. I made a fair deal and it was not with you!"

For emphasis, the pirate chief and his men made intimidating motions with their swords forcing the royal couple across the gangplank and onto the black ship. As soon as Richard and Antoinette were aboard the sinister vessel, a large trunk laden with gold was transported to the deck of the Champion. A rather tall, black clad figure wordlessly steered Antoinette and Richard to a nicely appointed cabin with no portholes. Loosed their bonds, and sealed the door behind them. Richard held Antoinette as she burst into tears.

Hours later, Antoinette was entirely cried out. Richard released his embrace and the two set about to explore their small cell. The first thing the royals noticed was how lavishly appointed was their prison; gold plating, fine china, silver fixtures. Richard realized that this room would not look out of place in his palace. Antoinette cooed with delight when she opened a wardrobe to discover several fine dresses and suits of clothes. Like the furniture and the fittings the clothing was of the first rank. Surprisingly, everything was Antoinette's and Richard's size

"Whoever has taken us prisoner, obviously wants us to be comfortable, Sweetheart." said Richard. "I

don't know if that is good news or bad news."

Antoinette sat, hard at work finishing eating the sumptuous meal that had been delivered a half hour before. Both husband and wife were famished. Richard was leery of eating the meal but Antoinette convinced him that whoever held them obviously wanted them alive, as such they were not likely to be poisoned. Richard yielded to his wife's wisdom and found the meal delicious and worthy of his personal chef.

Ensconced in luxury, the prince and princess sailed the night through. In the large comfortable bed, Richard was surprised to find himself in need of his wife's flesh. "Are you daft?" asked Antoinette.

"No, Pet, I'm just feeling that wonderful, most satisfying desire for you. We have had a difficult day. We BOTH need this!"

Antoinette sighed heavily but caved into her husband's carnal wishes. To her surprise and delight the session in the strange bed in their luxurious cell in the forbidding alien ship turned out to be one of their best times together ever. Despite their presence in the hands of an unknown foe, both Antoinette and Richard slept the sleep of the dead.

An insistent pounding at the door of their room woke the royal couple the next morning. Antoinette hid herself in the bedclothes while Richard slid on a pair of satin drawers. After Richard opened the door a crack, a hooded face forced its way in.

"Your Excellencies are instructed to perform their morning absolution and dress for the day; we are very close to our initial destination."

Richard thanked the veiled person and closed the door. He heard it lock from the outside. Antoinette allowed the bedclothes to tumble away from her body. Richard never tired of viewing his wife's assets. Her breasts were such perfect hillocks of desirability with enticing pink nipples. She met Richard's gaze. The two of them recalled the night before and exchanged smiles.

After making use of the chamber pots, Antoinette and Richard washed themselves at thoroughly as possible in the basins and urns provided. Antoinette selected one of the beautiful dresses in the wardrobe to don. Everything was first class, from the lace stockings to the jeweled hair ribbons. Antoinette only felt totally feminine when dressed to the nines. She selected a complimentary suit of clothing for her husband.

"We may be prisoners, Darling," she told Richard, "but that does not mean that we are no longer civilized." 

About an hour later, another knock on the door revealed itself to be two large hooded men.

"Now, Prince Richard and Princess Antoinette. You must be blindfolded for the next stage of your journey. Your arms will also be bound, but not in a harsh way. I trust that we will have your full cooperation."

"I suppose that I have no say in the matter?" Asked Richard, quizzing the hooded figure who had spoken.

"That is correct, your highness."

A short time later, Richard and Antoinette were being led from the black ship and into a stage coach. Antoinette was grateful for small favors such as the fact that the pillowcase slid over her head and the cords used to bind her wrists were silk. Husband and wife were seated next to each other as the coach began rolling. Antoinette and Richard wanted to engage in conversation but were ordered to maintain silence. The drive took several hours.




The Spoils of War



For Antoinette especially the trip had been profoundly boring. She knew that she should be worried about her fate and curious as to the identity of her captors but all she could think of was that several hours of alone time with her husband was being wasted. Richard placed his bound hands over Antoinette's and worried a great deal what the future might portend.

It was obvious to the prince that whoever had intercepted them was no ordinary enemy. The coordinated attack by the pirates and the apparent bribery of those same pirates. The mysterious ebon ship, the first class accommodations, everything pointed to a quite able and potentially diabolical foe. Richard was more concerned about his wife than himself. He would do anything to protect Antoinette. Whoever it was who was coordinating this, obviously wanted them together. Richard did not know if that was a good omen or a bad omen. It made him very nervous. At the same time he felt stronger and braver with his wife by his side. He knew that he would never turn coward or breakdown with Antoinette present. Just like his wife, more than anything, Richard wanted to engage in conversation with the person he most loved.

At last the vehicle rolled to a stop. Richard and Antoinette were escorted out of the wagon and into some building. The echoing of their footsteps led, Richard to conclude that the building they were in was rather large. Richard of course had no clue as to where he and his wife could be. The estimated time that the two had traveled could have placed the couple in any one of dozens of places. Antoinette and Richard were parted as they entered the building. Both voiced objections but were ordered to remain silent.

When Richard's blindfold and restraints were removed, he found himself in a large bathroom with several male servants. One of them explained things very simply.

"The Master offers you a chance to freshen up and decompress after your journey. I am authorized to fetch anything you require."

The bath was quite refreshing. A fresh set of first class clothing awaited the prince once he finished bathing. For Richard it was as though he was in his own palace once again. The kind treatment made him a bit more optimistic about his captivity. Richard felt very much like his old self when he was reunited with his bride. Antoinette was clad in a most ravishing blue dress with a bit of a daring décolletage and a tight bodice. Her hair had been carefully styled and wore lovely jeweled ribbons. She looked very beautiful indeed. The two fell into each other's arms and kissed passionately before being parted by the ever present guards. The royal husband and wife were led to an ornate dining room where they were told that their host awaited.

The man was very tall with a livid scar across one cheek. Antoinette did not like in the least the way the man looked at her, neither did Richard. The two were led to seats opposite the host and servants brought the first course of the meal. On meeting the gaze of his captor, Richard suddenly felt weak and insecure. This man was quite powerful and, Richard sensed, quite evil.

"Welcome, Richard and Antoinette. You will note that I have not used your titles because as of this moment neither of you have one anymore. I hope that this meal is to your liking. Once we finish eating I will more forthcoming about your fate. While we dine however, I would like you, Richard to mull over a single word, Antrice." 

Richard was puzzled. Antrice was a political division of Cadesh, one where his father's "velvet glove" operations had been especially active, but there was no way that they could be in Cadesh, Antrice or even Denovia, which until their defeat by the army from Richard;'s country, had ruled the province of Cadesh.

As if reading his thoughts their tall, beefy host said simply. "You are quite far from both Antrice and Cadesh. You will never be told where you are, nor shall either of you ever leave this castle again."

Antoinette gasped at the scarred man's words to which he replied.

"Have no fear Antoinette I have not gone to all of this trouble and expense simply to kill you. If that had been my desire, I could have hired assassins for a pittance. Now let us dine."

Richard barely tasted the fine gourmet meal as he dined. His mind recalled all he knew about Antrice. None of the military briefings that Richard had read mentioned anything about a man resembling his host. The "velvet glove" operations had been quite bloody but Mauria's secret police had always been careful. Whenever possible, the required deaths were made to appear as accidents. His father often called the "velvet glove" the "hand of God". Richard had never questioned the policy as it seemed essential to effectively controlling the province. Richard felt a very sick feeling begin to creep up his spine. 

Antoinette on the other hand savored the meal. She was concerned about things of course but was not overly worried, both she and Richard always landed on their feet. Antoinette concluded that if she was to be captive, at least it would be with first class treatment. She had no fear that before long, either Richard's people or her own would track them down and either liberates them through military action or ransom. Why even now, Antoinette was positive, Mauria commands were hot on their trail. Somehow she was sure that all of this was some personal matter between her husband and the man at the head of the table. Surely it would not involve her in any significant way. 

Once the elaborate meal concluded, their captor glared at his prisoners.

"Well, Richard; has your mind reached any conclusions?"

Richard paused a moment and replied, "Obviously you have some connection to Antrice and have an objection to how my father and brother are ruling its province of Cadesh."

"Very good, Richard. You are not quite the imbecile I pegged you as. I know all about the "velvet glove" and its evil reach. I'll let that fact sink in while we make our way to the castle tower."

Richard had been floored by his host's words. The "velvet glove" was carefully guarded state secret. As far as Richard knew, outside of the most elite commanders, the only men who understood the full extent and complete operations of the pacification project were King Otto, his brother, Prince Isaac, and himself. Not even the commandos who carried out the actual operations had any more than a faint glimmer as to the nature of their missions. If their captor could reach that far into the royal house of Mauria, then this man was more powerful and dangerous than Richard had dared to imagine.

Richard and Antoinette, closely shadowed by armed guards, followed their captor to a tower of the castle. The trip ended in a starkly simple room The now no longer royal couple was ordered to stand next to each other while their host took up a position on a dais in the front of the room. Some of the guards left the room. Those left behind unsheathed their swords.

"Now, a bit of explanation, Richard; you will never learn my true name or the location of my castle. To my men I am simply, "The Master." I deal in data. Where other men trade goods or arms, I trade in information. My network of spies is quite extensive and in many countries. I have men and women in places that you can scarce imagine. I also employ a cadre of cipher breakers. I cracked the code of the Mauria royal family some time ago. Unfortunately I have not yet entirely decoded the Mauria military ciphers. There was very little that I could do to prevent my boyhood home from falling into enemy hands. Even so I could have, perhaps, lived with that depressing fact. But then your foul King Otto decided that he had to "pacify" his new province. Instead of trying to win over the malcontents, he and your equally wicked brother Isaac as well as yourself chose to eliminate them. More than a few of those eliminated were family members and friends of mine. Making things worse you could not face them man to man and execute them as human beings. You arranged "accidents," committed arson and random knifing as though your victims were animals, all the while congratulated yourselves on being so subtle and so "humane." Do you think the people of Antrice are stupid children?"

Richard was now feeling very ill at ease. It was clear that this man was not merely bragging. He clearly possessed the skills he claimed. The fact that he was willing to reveal so much about himself meant that there was no way that he was ever leaving this castle alive. That simple death was not his captor's purpose filled Richard with fear. Worse what could be the purpose of abducting Antoinette as well? Again, Richard pictured everything ending badly.

"What's the matter Richard? Cat got your tongue?" asked the Master mockingly. "Are you beginning to get a glimmer as to why you and your oh so lovely wife are now my "guests?"

"Leave Antoinette out of this. She had no part in anything that happened to your people!"

"Ahh, that's just the thing, Richard. The "velvet glove" eliminated entire families to keep itself hidden. Wives, sons, daughters, brothers, their innocence or "guilt" were immaterial they suffered anyway, so shall your bride!"

At these words Antoinette gasped. Suddenly she understood that her captivity would be something quite different than she expected. She squirmed in terror.

"Follow me you two." spat the master sharply.

Very close at hand were a series of cells in a circular room. In one of the cells was a very pretty and very naked young woman. In the cell with her were some large, hooded men wielding flails.

"This woman sought to betray me. Watch carefully you swine."

Richard stared slack jawed and Antoinette buried her head into the chest of Richard's suit as the men set to work with their weapons on the pretty girl. Richard thought it not coincidental that the woman looked a bit like Antoinette. Her cries were piteous as the men progressed from repeatedly raping and torturing their victim to stringing her up and, eventually, disemboweling her. The girl died, fully conscious, in great pain, with her intestines wrapped around her long slim neck.

As the woman expired the Master began speaking once more. "In simple terms Richard, I want revenge. A revenge that can only come in the form of supreme degradation and total submission. The choice the two of you have is very simple. Obey me implicitly or you each will witness your spouse receiving the same treatment as this woman. There is no option of a swift, merciful death. It is either obedience or a prolonged, lingering death in anonymity. So long as you live, there is a very slim chance that the two of you will be rescued. There is an even slimmer chance that I will tire of the two of you release you in some remote corner of the world. Slim as those chances may be they are something to cling to."

"Leave my wife out of this!" cried Richard once more. "She has nothing to do with the supposed "crimes" of my father!"

"On the contrary, Richard without her participation you would choose immediate execution. But, with the threat of this same death hanging over her head as the one you just witnessed, you will do most anything to prolong your miserable life. Just picture your wife in the stead of this unfortunate woman and you should have no problem serving me."

Richard thought a long moment but there could be only one answer, he had to save the woman he loved from such a horrific death. He gazed into Antoinette's eyes and, under her fear, read agreement there.

"What do you want of us?" Richard sighed at last.

"Excellent. First I will have every item of your person. Strip to your skins right here!"

"You bastard!" interjected Richard.

"Very well, than you can watch my men strip your wife, have their way with her and then kill her very slowly. I will force you to watch every delightful moment of her torment you bit of vermin." replied the Master.

Antoinette's eyes met Richard's. He read fully her thoughts. In a moment, Antoinette turned slightly so that Richard could undo the laces of her lovely dress. "Would she ever wear another?" Thought both husband and wife as Richard's nervous fingers struggled with the intricate knots.

The pretty new dress fell to the floor as Antoinette stepped out of it. She appeared even more enchanting in her lacy silk underthings. The Master felt his manhood swell in anticipation.

"My father will have your head on a spike outside our palace!" roared Richard.

"Your father has no clue as to where you are and NO ONE aside from a very few, very loyal men know who I am, where I live, or how powerful I am. Whenever possible I work behind the scenes. My work is quite lucrative, however. Take a look around you. I was born poor but this castle is worthy of any noble born parasite such as yourself. Now continue, neither of you is naked yet."

Richard shed his jacket and in rapid succession his belt, tie and shirt. His finely muscled physique fairly glowed in the illumination of the room; Antoinette tugged the camisole up and over her head. As she stood in her brassier, her knickers, garter, stockings and shoes, she realized that no man besides Richard had seen so much of her body and it was only going to get worse. The Master stood with an impatient look upon his face and the male guards seemed to be taking quite an interest in the young princess.

Sensing his bride's distress, Richard asked, "Can your men leave the room?"

The Master's face bore a sly smile as he replied, "My guards are here for the protection of all of us. Continue." 

After Antoinette stepped out of her shoes, she began weeping softly as she unhooked her stockings and slid them off of her long, fine legs. The garter belt followed, joining the silk stockings in a crumpled mass on the floor. Richard removed his shoes and socks. Feeling supremely dejected and humiliated he dropped his trousers. It took Antoinette the longest time to reach behind herself and unclasp her bra. As the lacy garment tumbled to the floor, the former princess shielded her nudity with her hands. 

The Master read the pleading in her eyes and grinned broadly. Antoinette was a truly beautiful woman. She would make the most enticing of slaves He rather liked the name Antoinette it was almost a shame that she was destined to lose it along with her freedom. He considered Richard vermin, so that is what the Master would call him from now on.

Richard was first to take the final step and withdraw his drawers. His respectably sized flaccid uncut royal penis was now on public view. Antoinette was crying heavily as she used one hand and arm to lower her step ins. instantly she hid her sparsely thatched tuft of pubic hair from view. Antoinette could not help but notice that some of the guards in the room were adjusting their trousers as they stared intently at her. Antoinette's humiliation was, if anything, worse than her husband's. No man save an occasional doctor had ever seen her unclothed form. The young princess had been taught that to it was a sin to be nude before any man not your husband. All her life she had avoided that sin, now she stood bare before dozens of male eyes at once. It was so overwhelming that not even tears could offer her solace.

"You are not finished yet." deadpanned the Master

Antoinette looked at him quizzically.

"Your jewelry."

One of the Master's guards strode forward with a small wicker basket.

"Place your baubles in the basket provided."

Richard wore a ceremonial silver key about his neck on a chain. On his hands he wore his wedding ring and his royal signet ring. Richard shot, the master a withering look as he removed his valuables. Antoinette hated that she had to remove her arms and hands from her breasts and private parts to remove the jeweled ribbons from her hair, her earrings, the string of pearls about her neck and the gold bracelet she always wore. Her face scrunched up in outrage and pleading when she realized that the last items on her person were her wedding and engagement ring. Desperately she gazed at the Master. His response was not comforting.

"Either you remove them woman, or one of my guards will remove them along with your finger."

"Oh you are just HORRIBLE!" cried Antoinette as she twisted off her rings and watched them vanish into the basket.

For the longest moment a hard silence clung to the room. Antoinette was so terrified, she feared that her heart would stop beating.

"So what do we have when all the finery and jewels are stripped away?" asked the Master before he answered his own question.

"A bit of vermin and a beautiful young girl. Welcome to your new lives as my property. As of this moment I own every inch of you and will use the two of you as I see fit." The Master made a gesture with his hand and a massive guard placed Richard in a stranglehold and placed a dagger at the young man's throat. Another guard handed the Master an object as Antoinette screamed.

"The first order of business is to see to it that the vermin does not breed!"

The massive guard held Richard fast as the Master placed something over Richard's groin. When the master returned to his position at the front of the room, the guard released Richard whose hands went immediately to his crotch. He discovered that his manhood was locked in an iron cage.

"There, now we don't have to worry about any more vermin coming into the world." said the master mockingly.

"Oh don't be so morose. It will not be permanent. Right now I am inclined to remove it three times a year. Your birthday, your woman's birthday and the date of your anniversary, of course on those days you will be closely supervised and only permitted to take your former wife's asshole, but it IS better than nothing."

The Master laughed loudly and made another gesture. While several guards moved to restrain Richard, two others approached a screaming Antoinette. She was helpless in their grasp, as both were quite large men. The guards placed leather lined cuffs upon Antoinette's ankles and wrists, matching these was a leather lined collar about her neck. Her feet were chained together and her hands chained behind her back and attached to her collar. She turned beet red in embarrassment and humiliation at her exposure as the guards stepped away from her. The angle of her bound arms had the effect of emphasizing Antoinette's spectacular breasts and taut tummy. Her head hung further and further in shame as the Master spoke.

"As for you, you no longer have a name. Until I decide what to call you it shall simply be 'woman' your new jewelry is so much more functional than a wedding band or pearls. It gives me and my men the ability to control you. Modesty is now your enemy, woman. Your body may be inspected at any time by either me or my men. Your mouth, your sex and your asshole are the only things that can prevent you former husband ending up like the unfortunate woman who tried to betray me. Woman, you are now chattel. Is that clear?"

Antoinette nodded her head as the nature of her predicament became obvious to her. But she mouthed, "I'd rather die,"

"I'm sorry darling. That is the easy way out and is NOT an option. Now it is time for the vermin to be locked away and for the woman to begin her training."

"You will pay for this you, bastard!" screamed Richard in rage.

"Oh get a hold of yourself, boy or I will forget about ever liberating your manhood from its prison and simply have you gelded." 

The threat of castration silenced Richard as several hulking guards led him to one of the empty cells in this tower room. Richard realized that this cell had been set aside especially for him when he saw a list of his alleged crimes painted on the wall. The charges were all related to the actions of the "velvet glove."After all of the charges was listed the judgment,




The Spoils of War



"Rather than rewarding this vermin with the death he so clearly deserves, his sentence is commuted to a lifetime of incarceration in anonymity, squalor, and servitude. How the mighty have fallen"

Richard took a long look about his new universe. It consisted of a straw filled mattress, a threadbare blanket, an empty bucket and one full of water. A stool was affixed to the wall. The former prince took a long look at his chastity cage. Even with tools, it would be next to impossible for him to open it. For the lock seemed quite formidable. He recognized the type of lock being the same as used on safes and strong boxes. Richard realized that the Master, whoever he was, had a first class understanding of Richard's psychology and sexual make up. As he stared past the bars of his cell to see Antoinette being led away, he broke down in tears and wept like a baby.

Antoinette was dragged and led to a room in another wing of the castle. As she was forced to follow in the master's steps, often in the hallways would be filled with guards, soldiers, officials, maids and butlers. Every last one of them thoroughly drank in the former princess's nudity. For Antoinette the journey was interminable. It ended where she feared, in a large bedroom. Antoinette was smart enough to realize that this was the Master's inner sanctum. All but a few guards left the room. Antoinette stared down at the floor in shame.

"I command you to look around, woman. You will be spending much time in this room, seeing to my needs and offering me your body. Because you are not as guilty as your husband, I shall show patience with you and break you in slowly. It will be hard for you at first but you will quickly learn to satisfy me and my men."

Antoinette's eyed darted about the room a second time and then focused pleadingly at her captor, tears streaking her lovely face.

"Master, please do not make a harlot of me. The only man I have ever been with is my husband, Richard. Please don't make me a base woman." said Antoinette in a faltering voice.

"But you see my beautiful pet." replied the Master, "you are no longer a married woman, you are now a slave, as common and as indistinguishable as any. There are only two uses for female slaves, hard labor or harlotry. You, my ravishing creature, are too pretty and also lack the physical strength for use in hard labor, so what other option do I have? It's not such a bad life, you will be well fed, given exercise, first class medical treatment, even, from time to time, clothing to wear. All my slaves see me as a most benevolent Master, as will you." 

The Master let Antoinette's tears flow for almost a full half hour before he stepped behind her, unfastened the chain restraining her wrists and handed her a handkerchief to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. Softly but firmly he addressed her.

"Now woman, I have let you cry a bit because I understand how overwhelming all of this must be for you, but now you need to get a firm hold on your emotions. Unless you want your husband to suffer a painful, horrific death, you will sincerely try to stifle your tears." 

To her amazement, Antoinette was able to calm herself, at least enough to placate the Master. Her humiliation was still raw, but right now she was angry. While much of her anger was directed towards the Master, her mind blamed others as well. The royal guards, for not protecting herself and Richard when they were aboard the Champion. The pirates, for not accepting Richard's offer to free them, to be honest there was a great deal of anger focused upon her brother, Prince Isaac. Isaac was a miserable husband and was half the man of her Richard. if anyone should be paying for the crimes of the House of Mauria, it was Isaac!

"Now, woman" began the Master at last. "No harm will come to your former husband so long as you obey me. That obedience means that your marital fidelity is a thing of the past. There are issues of personal grooming and hair style that will change now that you are a slave but we can deal with those later. In a bit I am going to order you to undress me and allow me to make love to you. Tonight I am after simple obedience; I will be more demanding as time passes. Now, how about a bit of wine or spirits to steady your nerves?"

"Master, Richard will ALWAYS be my husband, no matter what you compel me to do!"

"If you feel such a strong emotional attachment to him then you will do anything to make sure that he doesn't die, especially not in a lingering, agonizing way won't you? Even if that means becoming my plaything?" 

Antoinette nodded dejectedly and accepted the large glass of wine that the Master offered.

"Excellent, then we will get along swimmingly."

Even though she was not ordinarily a drinker, she gulped much of the wine down immediately. The warmth of the liquid did seem to take a bit of the edge off of her frazzled nerves. After a few moments of awkward silence, the Master took Antoinette's wine, set it down upon a table, and said,

"I'd like a kiss now, woman."

Antoinette knew that this first request, as innocuous as it sounded, would be the most difficult to follow because it would lead to so much more. Antoinette had not kissed many men before she married Richard. Her mother had been very protective. Her first kiss came at age seventeen. It had come from a diplomat's son after one of the few dates Antoinette had been permitted. The kisses were as chaste as possible as royal servants had shadowed them on every date and every moment they spent together. That innocent relationship, which her mother brokered, was also sabotaged by her when the boy's father fell out of favor with Antoinette's country. The former princess was still just twenty four years old. Marrying young had been the only way to get out from under her mother's thumb. Because Richard was such a perfect, well connected match, her mother, the duchess, could not object to her daughter's engagement. It helped considerably that Richard had completely won over her mother to the point where she was practically begging Antoinette to marry Richard.

Although inexperienced and virginal on her wedding night, Antoinette became an attentive pupil of her husband. The young princess surprised herself at how slutty she became in the marital bed. Richard had been a kind and patient teacher but even he was unprepared for how wanton the love of his life turned out to be. "And all of that began," though Antoinette to herself, "with a bit of passionate kissing."

Sighing heavily, Antoinette strode over to the Master and accepted his embrace. The Master's kiss was deep and insistent, his tongue made several circuits of Antoinette's mouth. The former princess tried to think of other things. This close to her brutal captor, Antoinette noticed that his cologne was not unpleasant. The man was strong, both taller and broader than her husband and none of it appeared to be fat. She did not like his goatee as it made him seem even more diabolical. With a sudden insight, Antoinette realized that might be the very point of his facial hair. She did not like his mustache. The one Richard had grown while serving in the cavalry had been banished immediately upon his return to the palace. Antoinette felt a profound silence when she realized that she would never again have authority over even so small an issue as that. Tears welled up in her eyes as the kissing continued for quite a while.

"Now, slave," said the Master softly as he pulled away from his captive, "you will undress me now and I will be taking you until I am sated. If you try to harm or incapacitate me while I am vulnerable, my men have orders to ravage you as long as they want. Is that clear, woman?"

Antoinette nodded and reached for the buttons on the Master's suit jacket.

In his cell, Richard read the list of charges against himself for yet another time. It was the only thing he could do to keep his mind from obsessing about what unknown things were occurring between his wife and the Master. Thinking about Antoinette, even in such dire conditions, caused his manhood to swell. The cage which held his cock was too small however to fully house his erection causing him tremendous pain. He gazed beyond the bars to view the room in which he was being held. Most of Antoinette's clothing remained in view on the floor outside his cell. Her knickers however had been claimed by one of the guards who smiling, inhaled Antoinette's fragrance while he winked at Richard. In anger, Richard bellowed at the guard and threw himself against the prison bars. The guard guffawed heartily in response.

If anything, the incident with her knickers made Richard feel even more miserable. He felt sure that his nation's royal commandos were already on his trail, but would they be able to follow the clues to liberate himself and his wife? The more he thought about the problem, the more unlikely was that denouement. If the Master was as enigmatic and as anonymous as he claimed, and Richard saw no reason to doubt those claims, the likelihood of their being found was greatly diminished. He knew exactly what the Master had planned for his bride, "Me a eunuch, she a whore." thought Richard, the words echoing about his head as mocking taunts. As the hours passed Richard wondered if the agony he was currently experiencing could possibly be worse than being eviscerated and slowly executed. But then he pictured the same thing happening to Antoinette and, no matter what the Master made her do, she did not deserve to die that way. Richard realized that he would very soon be a broken man and Antoinette would belong to someone else, would BE something else. His tears returned as Richard grasped that in a very real sense he was an infant again; naked, sexless, friendless, the future a chasm of unknown darkness. His guards took particular delight in Richard's piteous wailing.

As though it was happening to someone else, Antoinette considered the naked body of the Master. He was massively muscled and well equipped. This was only the third naked male she had ever seen. The first had been the grown son of one of her family's servants. Antoinette and her younger sister, when they were both on the cusp of womanhood, had compelled the young man, under threats to the lad's person, to strip so that the sisters could examine him. Antoinette still recalled the first erection she had ever encountered, Antoinette and her sister put their hands and lips on the young man. Things were just getting interesting when he trio was discovered by their mother and the young man's father. Their mother was livid with rage. The young man and his father were banished from the castle; the duchess severely punished her daughters and neither was ever again left alone with an adult male until they were married. 

On her honeymoon, Richard had played "captured spy" with her. Antoinette loved playing the game and "capturing" her husband. She also adored being "captured." In retrospect, she realized just how seriously the toying with that young man might have turned out had she and her sister not been interrupted. It pained Antoinette considerably to concede that her mother had been right about something. Never in her life, however, could she have conceived of a scenario where she would be caught up in a real life version of that romantic game. This was not the erotic play of lovers, still, it was the only way the former princess could relate to her current predicament.

She stared at the cuffs about her wrists and ankles and tugged on her collar; these were symbols of the basest slavery. Such slaves were not permitted to refuse any command short of murder. It was all stuff of nightmares. She tried to ignore the guards in the room, having an audience made her debasement all the nastier. The next words she heard were not a surprise; still they hit her between the eyes like a club.

"Let's see how well you suck cock, slave. Your first night with me will be the easiest. After you swallow my seed, I will be taking both your sex and your ass. Tomorrow your training begins in earnest."

Antoinette fell to her knees before the Master and tentatively began exploring his thick manhood. Finally realizing that she had absolutely no say as to what happened to her, Antoinette, for the first time, understood that the only hope for a tolerable existence was to become indispensable to the Master. If the master favored her, perhaps her diligent service could temper the Master's animus towards her husband. Antoinette envisioned her husband in his tiny cell, his manhood imprisoned. It broke her heart, but it was still better than watching him be slowly put to death. She knew that she had to keep believing in immanent rescue or she would go mad. She felt the Master grasp the back of her head and Antoinette drained her mind of everything except establishing a rhythm as her head slid forward and back over the Master's shaft. 

His cum did not taste like Richard's. The Master's was earthier and musky. Utilizing considerable willpower, the former royal choked down the viscous liquid. She gazed up, past his muscular stomach, to the Master's scarred face. He wore a look of contentment as Antoinette opened her mouth to reveal that she had been performed as instructed.

"Excellent, woman, you must adore your former husband a great deal indeed. Come; snuggle with me on the bed. It will not take long for my manhood to recover its desire."

Lying entwined with the Master was confounding to Antoinette. On the one hand it reminded her of every wonderful romantic moment with Richard. Her husband had been the only man she had ever shared a bed with. Mutual nudity in her mind was therefore always associated with the best, most contented hours of her young life. But the Master was not Richard. There was no expectation that he would be tender and loving like her husband, yet if she satisfied this man; a slim possibility existed that he would take pity on her and perhaps ameliorate Richard's living conditions. As she lay against the Master's strong chest and felt his hands gently caress her body, Antoinette willed her mind to obedience and accommodation. She would try to view her experience as just another of the sometimes onerous duties she had to perform either when growing up in her mother's household or as Richard's wife. "Was this duty fundamentally any different from the hours of tedium at a boring state dinner or feigning interest in a windy lecture?" she asked herself.

Antoinette knew very well that this situation was vastly different but it was the only point of reference she could make. In royal finishing schools they don't teach what to do if you are suddenly made a pleasure slave of a tyrant. Somehow, that subject just never came up. Antoinette briefly wondered what old Mrs. Haverstock would think of her current situation. As far as that teacher had been concerned, her pupils never so much as perspired! 

Her train of thought was interrupted by the Master's strong mouth and tongue working on her most intimate place. Nothing had more startled and delighted her than the discovery of the joys of cunnilingus on her wedding night. While it would take her several days to master fellatio, Richard ossessed outstanding oral skills from the first. That she could be brought to orgasm in that manner was a startling revelation. Before her marriage, Antoinette had played with herself discreetly only with her own hands. There was also the arm of an upholstered chair in her bedroom that was angled just perfectly for her younger self to rub against and receive pleasure Even those experiences were rare, coming during the few times she was not being monitored by maids, nannies and other spies in the employ of her mother. The Master was at least as skilled as Richard. Antoinette, to her horror, found herself responding to the Master's talents!

For the Master, Antoinette's sounds of pleasure were simultaneously the most rewarding and the most enticing of his life. All of his intelligence work had proved reliable. That the former Princess was a supremely sexual being, there could be no doubt. His observers in the House of Mauria had been diligent in their research. It was largely for that reason he had set out to acquire the Prince and Princess in the first place. They were not so close to the throne as to be beyond his length of his reach. That King Otto had to pay for his crimes there was no question, but both he, Isaac and young Samuel were too closely guarded. Richard and Antoinette, however, often took extended excursions from the royal palace, making them easiest to capture. The two made perfect proxies upon which to gain his vengeance.

The Master knew full well the risks he had taken by capturing such high profile targets. If the heat became too intense he could release Richard and Antoinette with little fear of exposing his operation. The Master concluded that even if King Isaac's royal commandos and rangers caught every break in tracing the vanished royals, they would not discover the presence of the Master and his base of operations for at least a year. By that time, Richard would be a whimpering shell of former self and Antoinette would be an experienced harlot who had been bedded many thousands of times. If the Master was a good a judge of King Otto's character as he felt he was, once the Mauria sovereign discovered what DID happen to his son and daughter; he would promulgate the fiction that both had been killed in a tragic and disfiguring accident than allow his people to discover what had become of the duo. The question as to why such an enemy would punish members of the House of Mauria in so vindictive a manner, would have to be avoided at all costs lest the words "velvet glove" be publicly uttered.

If that happy turn of events occurred, the Master would be free to keep Antoinette as his personal pet and Richard could become a stallion gone from thoroughbred status to gelded plow horse. That enticing future beckoned like a new morning. This was by far the most satisfying operation he had ever pulled off.

Sensing a perfect opportunity, The Master reared over Antoinette and plunged his firm, thick manhood into her succulent quim. The young woman gasped and involuntarily threw her own legs over the Master's. Antoinette was the sort of woman whose sweetness and beauty were such that she had no conception as to how alluring she really was. So sensually attuned, she simply could not help but respond completely and fully when she was taken. Especially if yielding herself meant protecting the man she lived. The Master watched the passion dance across her face as the young nymphet ogasmed once more. "This woman's natural state is that of the harlot. I am doing her a favor." thought the Master to himself as he came deep inside his newest possession. 

As soon as the orgasm had coursed through her body, Antoinette became appalled with herself. She turned her head in shame. She thought of her husband in his small cell and felt like the most depraved woman who had ever lived. "The night is not even half spent and I have betrayed my husband twice. I am positively WICKED!" she said bitterly as she stared at the far wall of the master's bedroom. 

The Master held her close and kissed the squirming woman. He always was a convincing liar. "On the contrary, you have only done what was expected of you. There is no shame in receiving pleasure, even if the duty is otherwise unpleasant. You have no say in your fate, woman, but that does not mean that your fate will have no light and no joy."

Antoinette, listened intently to the Master's words. They were exactly what she needed to hear. Antoinette scarcely understood the depth and passion of her own sexuality. That she enjoyed sex a great deal was simply a fact of her life with Richard. She had no inkling that few women became as aroused and passionate as herself with so little exertion of effort on the part of their partners. Her passion often left her puzzled. She had not been able to connect well with her sister, Princes Eugenia as she would have liked because Eugenia thought sex a chore to be endured mostly for the sake of producing offspring. When Eugenia complained to Antoinette about her husband's "perverted" tastes, Antoinette was stunned. "But those are such little things, sister. Why Richard and I ..." The rest of that conversation went badly, Eugenia called Antoinette "debauched" and the two had rarely spoken since that incident. Antoinette could not even broach the subject of sex with her mother without the older woman getting hysterical. Richard, by contrast was nothing but supportive of her desires. Together they had experimented with and enjoyed a wide variety of sexual practices. "We have a little paradise, Sweetness." Richard had told her once, "Most couples would kill to have what we take for granted." 




The Spoils of War



Antoinette mulled over those words as the master gently stroked her face, suckled her nipples and gently massaged Richard's bride. "Would Richard want me miserable or happy?" was one of her thoughts as was, "Is it really my fault that I am so passionate?" Antoinette was not even close to answering those and the many other questions that came to mind as she found herself kissing the Master once more. Antoinette wondered who and what she was as the Master positioned her for anal intercourse. This kind of sex was Antoinette and Richard's most intimate and most enjoyable secret. Richard had warned her not to share the fact that the two of them were intimate this way. When Antoinette asked why Richard had told her that less enlightened people thought this most wonderful of intimacies an evil sin. After experience anal sex with her husband, Antoinette thought the nay-Sayers the silliest people on earth. 

The Master could not believe his good fortune as Antoinette took his large manhood up her ass without a scintilla of complaint. Indeed it seemed to turn on the young woman even more than standard mercenary did. The panting of Antoinette was the mewing of a large enchanted kitten as the master rode her hard while massaging her breasts and ribs. His third ejaculation of the evening was very long in coming but it was the most satisfying of the three. Antoinette screamed with satisfaction and collapsed with exhaustion as the two tumbled together into a knot on the wide bed.

Antoinette simply wanted to sleep but the Master forced her to use the bathroom, wash her face and hands, brush her teeth, and prepare for bed before he hooked her collar to a hook above the headboard with a long chain.

"You have done very well, woman. Tomorrow is your first full day of servitude. I will endeavor to make it as enjoyable as this evening has been." The Master smoothed his slave's mussed hair and said pleasantly and most sincerely, "I believe that we will have a great deal of fun together."