The Prince

The morning had started out ordinary. The young prince woke early, to go out riding his sleek black horse on his usual trail through the forest. Eclipse knew the path so well, the prince barely needed to hold the reins between his fingers. He wore an elegant crimson tunic embroidered with the black and gold seal of Cydonia over his closely-fitting black breeches and stately black riding boots. His long brown locks were tied back in a ponytail, secured with a golden ribbon. At eighteen years old, he was eager for freedom and a chance to prove his strength, though his slender frame and gentle features exuded more beauty than toughness. Still, he wore an ornate sword at his slim waist, tried hard to narrow his bright eyes, framed as they were by luxurious long eyelashes. He rode further and further every day, though he still remained on his father's protected lands, he pushed closer and closer to the borders every time.

He neared edge where the King's lands touched the beginning of Lord Auberon's Blackthorn forest. The woods grew thicker here, the trees closer together, and Eclipse had to slow to maneuver carefully between them. Still, it was easier for the horse to pick his way through this little area than try to ride around, where the trail was rocky and overgrown until it picked up on the other side of a small pond. Eclipse had carefully made his way along the winding trail between the trees. The prince nudged his heels into the animal's sides, when he was suddenly pulled backwards off of the saddle.

The young prince cried out, but he was miles from anyone hearing him scream. A dark bag was pulled over his head before he could see who or what had grabbed a hold of him. A pulled cord secured the bag around his neck, blocking out all light. His arms were twisted behind his back, and although he struggled with all his might, they were held fast by someone much stronger. He was being held suspended above the ground, and he kicked furiously. His heel struck something behind him, and there was a hard grunt from above his head, before strong hands gripped his ankles and held them together, immobilizing him. The prince's weight fell back into the thick chest of the giant holding his arms. He continued to yell threats and demands uselessly. The beast holding his arms laughed, the prince's whole body shaking with the movement.

"Scream all you want, little boy," the deep voice growled above his ear. The prince thrashed, trying to kick his legs and twist his hips, but the two assailants held him tight. He squirmed until he started panting inside the black bag, his breath heating the air inside to a sticky humidity. Tears of frustrations welled up in his eyes as he gave up, his tired muscles slackening. The two monsters holding him hadn't moved, waiting steadily for the prince to tire himself out. Finally, they set about their task of binding him, while he lacked the energy to struggle.

He couldn't feel the ropes around his ankles through his laced-up riding boots, but he could feel the harsh fibers pull taut around his bony wrists, crossed at the small of his back. He still struggled weakly, but his energy was drained. The monster holding him suddenly hefted the prince's body over his shoulder, handling the boy as if he were a sack of cabbages, holding him steady behind the knees. He cried out as his stomach was crushed beneath him. Then they began moving, the prince draped unceremoniously with his butt in the air and his head bumping now and again into the giant's back as they walked. The prince squirmed fruitlessly, still breathing heavily inside the bag. Soon, with the blood rushing to his overheated brain, he passed out, his body lying limply against his abductor.

He awoke in darkness on a cold stone floor. The air around him was damp and cold. His wrists and ankles were still bound, he quickly discovered. Groaning, he pulled himself onto his knees.

"Oh, you've awakened."

The prince swung his head around, looking for the source of the voice. He saw nothing but blackness.

"Who's there!?" the young prince cried out, slightly unnerved by the fear in his voice. "Where am I!? Let me go! Untie me at once! Let me go or else—"

"Or else what, your highness?" the voice responded, calm and cold. The prince's mouth hung open, momentarily dumbstruck. "What precisely do you expect to do?"

The prince shifted around on his knees, unsure of where the voice was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere at once, and he could see nothing. He summoned some courage, and spoke authoritatively.

"My father—"

"Your father has no idea where you are." The prince heard heels move towards him. He spun around on his knees, adrenaline rushing through him. "In fact, your highness..." There was the sudden rush of coarse fabric against his face as the bag was yanked off his head. Strong fingers gripped his chin and pulled it painfully upwards. In the dim candlelight, the prince could make out a twisted face grinning down at him. "No one knows where you are."

"Lord Auberon!" The prince shouted. "Are you trying to start a war? Let me go! You and my father are allies! You pledged your allegiance to Cydonia! This is kidnapping! This is treason! This is—"

The young prince's protests were silenced by the echoing crack as Auberon backhanded him across the face. The force sent him crashing to the stone floor of the dark room. He cried out as the pain pulsed in his cheek. He remained on the ground, eyes wide, staring at Auberon's black boots. The Lord of Blackthorn Castle had sworn loyalty to Cydonia nearly a year ago, bowing before the king. The prince had been there, at his father's side, and watched the man lower his sharp eyes to the floor reluctantly, as if it had pained him. He had a chilly aura around him, with thick eyebrows and a thin beard encircling lips which seemed to hold a permanent sneer. There was a banquet that night, the tables loaded with wine and roasted game from the King's Forest. While the other men drank and boasted and sang, Lord Auberon sat stiffly, his piercing dark eyes never leaving the young prince. It had sent shivers down his spine whenever their gazes accidentally met. The prince had excused himself early from the table, unable to bear it.

Now, the Lord of Blackthorn raised a toe and stabbed it into the prince's shoulder, pushing him onto his back. He was looking at prince the same way he had during that banquet, only now he had a cruel smile on his lips. He seemed impossibly tall, and the thick, richly embroidered coat he wore made his frightening figure more imposing. The prince wanted to look away, but the anger and the pain burning in his cheek fixed his eyes upwards.

"How dare you," the prince hissed. Auberon laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. His laughter bounced off the walls of the candlelit dungeon, digging deep into the young prince's pride. He gritted his teeth.

"Put him back on his knees," Auberon ordered, and out of the darkness a gigantic figure appeared, most likely one of the monsters that had plucked the prince off of his horse. The giant was bald-headed, dressed in leather and furs, his thick face and bulging arms laced with scars. The prince immediately saw how foolish he had been to try to fight against such a creature. The giant's hands grabbed the prince's shoulders and set him on his knees, as if he were uprighting a doll. The man disappeared back into the shadows. Auberon was still smiling.

"You should bow your head to me, your highness, for you are in the presence of a greater man."

"I bow to no one but my father."

Auberon hit him again, across the other cheek. The prince was steadier on his knees this time, and though his ears rang, he didn't fall over. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Look at me, boy," Auberon ordered. The prince didn't move.

The dark lord grabbed the prince by the hair and wrenched the young man's face towards his. The prince shouted, his eyes opening in time to see Auberon pull a dagger from his side and hold it against the smooth skin of the young man's throat. The prince gasped in a breath, freezing his muscles. He stared, panicked, at the coldness in Auberon's eyes. The dark man slowly relaxed his grip in the prince's hair, testing to see if the young man would hold still. He did, petrified.

"Are you holding me for ransom?" the prince said slowly, uncertainly.

"Ransom," Auberon repeated the word, with a harsh tinge to it. He lowered his face inches from the prince's. "What do I want with money?" He ran a finger along the side of the young man's face, a pointed fingernail poking into soft skin.

The prince's breath's came in short bursts. "Then let me go. I'm of no use to you."

A slow laugh began deep in Auberon's throat. He slid the dagger slowly downwards. The prince watched as the blade moved from his neck to the center of his chest. He held his breath to keep his chest from moving. His knees were shaking. He feared he would collapse, falling onto the sharp blade. Auberon's deep laugh resounded.

The Lord of Blackthorn clutched the front of the prince's crimson tunic, and slashing his dagger downward, cut open the front of the garment. He pulled open the two halves of the ruined tunic, exposing pale white skin to the cold air.

"I have plenty of uses for you, my boy," Auberon murmured. The prince shivered violently as Auberon's fingers trailed down his bare chest. The dark lord replaced the dagger in his belt to free his hand to caress the young man's skin. The dark man's touch tingled. Auberon's smirking face was inches from the prince's. Cruel eyes were locked with terrified ones. Auberon licked his lips and pressed his mouth against the prince's delicate neck.

"What...ah!" the young man breathed, as he tried to squirm away. Auberon clutched the prince's sides and sucked hard at the soft skin. Wet lips caressed the prince's neck, each new pressure sending tingles throughout his nerves. Few people ever touched him, and certainly not like this. The man's mouth was on him, his tongue warm and wet. Fingers were fondling his chest, Auberon's thumbs brushing over the prince's nipples which had hardened quickly, either from the cold or from the strange sensation.

"Stop that!" he managed to gasp out. Auberon's teeth sank into the prince's neck, eliciting a yelp of pain. The dark lord pulled his lips away to see the thin trickle of royal blood spill from the prince's neck. He watched it until it reached the young man's collarbone, then slowly ran his tongue along the red line, licking up the blood. He smiled, seeming to savor the taste.

"What do you want?!" the prince spat out, confused, angry and frightened. Auberon's fingers tightened around the young man's nipples, pinching down hard. The prince tried to pull away, which only increased the pain. Auberon twisted the little pink bits of flesh he held crushed beneath his fingers. The prince's eyes teared up.

Laughing at his agony, Auberon released his grip and stood up, walking a slow circle around his victim. The prince fidgeted his arms, trying unsuccessfully to cover himself or comfort the reddening buds on his chest. His neck was still throbbing and slowly bleeding.

Auberon had made a half circle, and knelt behind the prince, running his hands across the young man's flat stomach. He pressed his lips on the prince's shoulder, suddenly sensual again, moving his mouth slowly against the uninjured side of the prince's neck. In response, the prince squeezed his eyes shut, preparing to be bitten again.

Instead, the dark man's fingers wandered their way around his body, leaving prickling tingles in their wake. They eventually arrived at the waistband of his breeches, and as they aimed further downward, the prince jerked back reflexively, away from the violating touch. What he didn't remember was that Auberon was close behind him, and while he tried to move away, he only succeeded in pressing closer against Auberon. The dark lord's arms quickly tightened around him, and his hands attempted to push between the prince's tightly closed thighs.

"Spread your legs," Auberon ordered quietly.

The young prince was able to murmur out a defiant "No."

"Will pain persuade you?" the dark man asked calmly, teasing the prince's neck with his teeth.

"Don't..." the prince gasped, and as he tensed his neck, unwillingly relaxed the muscles in his thighs just enough for Auberon to slide his hand between them. Though the thin fabric, Auberon's fingers caressed his balls and building erection.

"Nnh!" the prince cried out, alarmed at the insistent pressure where no one had ever touched him before. His nipples still stung, his neck throbbed, and his face slightly numb from where he had been hit—but the mounting sensation between his legs made the pain seem distant. He wanted to close his legs, but he couldn't make his muscles respond. Auberon's other arm was wrapped tightly around the prince's thin body, crushing it into his own. He sucked at the prince's earlobe as his hand worked at the growing bulge in the prince's loins.

The boy was breathing heavily as Auberon paused to undo the closure of his close-fitting breeches. His straining erection sprung free into Auberon's waiting hand. The skin on skin contact just intensified the feeling building in the prince's body. He closed his eyes. The dark man had been stroking steadily, the prince feeling each new wave of sensation building on top of the last. He wanted more, awaited each measured stroke with urgency, feeling the desire for release rise within him. But Auberon was slowing. The movement of his hand was slackening. The pleasure waves were lessening, agonizingly just far enough apart to keep him feeling something, but not building. He needed more. Without thinking about it, he started rocking his hips, pushing himself through Auberon's hand, working himself to release. A low moan escaped his lips. He thrust harder.

"Slut," Auberon breathed in the prince's ear. The young man's eyes opened at the coarse word, opened wider as Auberon pulled his hand and body away, rising to his feet. The prince was left yearning and exposed on the floor. He gasped in heavy breaths, he strained, trying to rub himself between his thighs, trying to work himself that little bit he still needed, just that little tiny bit to put him over the edge. He thrust beneath his thighs as fast as he could. Auberon laughed. "Slut!" he shouted, the accusation reverberating off the walls.

"Please..." the prince begged, still thrusting against himself.

With two fingers poked into his shoulder, Auberon pushed the prince's body backwards. The young man fell to the floor roughly, his bound arms pinned beneath him. He tried to stroke himself to climax. Auberon brought his boot down, spreading the prince's legs, and resting it gently on his straining cock. Using the sole of his boot, the dark man began rubbing the prince's erection against his smooth stomach. The young man gasped, the intensity returning in floods. It didn't take much more, with his whole body shaking beneath Auberon's heel, the prince came forcefully, his seed shooting up across his naked chest, a few drops landing on the young man's own face. Auberon continued for a couple additional strokes before stepping back from the prince's body.

The cloud of pleasure was fading, but the crimson remained in his cheeks, now out of shame rather than sensation. Here he was, the future king of Cydonia, sensitive areas exposed lewdly, worked into a frenzy by a man who had kidnapped and hurt him. He had begged the man to help him come, and was now covered with his own seed. He tried to fold in, to cover himself the best he could, but his limbs could barely move.

"Keep those knees apart!" Auberon ordered. He looked down at the prince, teasing, "Aren't you a pretty sight? What would your father say if he saw you now?"

The prince cringed. Auberon laughed.

"Get up."

The prince tried to move, but it was no use.

"Get him up," the dark lord ordered, and the giant appeared from the shadows again. The prince was now reminded that he had been there this whole time, watching him be humiliated. The huge man indeed had a wide smile on his face. He had clearly enjoyed the show. The giant lifted the prince from beneath his arms, and set him up on his knees again, the wet strings of come beginning to slide down his chest. Strands of hair had fallen loose from his ponytail, hanging disheveled around his face. The young man's head felt woozy. He simply wanted to collapse. After the giant let go of his shoulders, he fell forward, resting his head on the cold stone ground.

"Now you bow!" Auberon yelled to the walls. The prince squeezed his eyes shut. He felt as if he might cry. He heard the dark man walk around behind him, felt his hands on his hips. Auberon pulled the young man's rear upwards, settling his weight on his knees. The prince felt his own come start to run down his chest towards his chin. Auberon hooked his fingers around the waist of the prince's breeches, and slid them around the curve of the young man's ass, exposing the smooth pale skin. He slapped a hand against the right cheek, bringing a soft cry from the prince.

Auberon smiled. He dropped a hand in front of the prince's face, extending two fingers.

"Lick," he ordered.

The prince turned away, pivoting on his forehead. He was rewarded for his disobedience with another smack on his ass, this one much harsher. The crack of skin on skin echoed. Then another slap, and another, causing the prince to cry out. He could feel the blood heating the abused skin.

"Ah! Stop!" he gasped out. Auberon gave him one more for good measure, and then re-presented the pair of fingers. The prince peeked out his tongue, brushing it gingerly against the dark lord's fingers. Auberon stuck his fingers into the prince's mouth.

"It's in your best interest to get them as wet as possible," Auberon warned. The prince didn't really know what that meant, but decided to cooperate. He ran his tongue around and between the fingers in his mouth, sucking them in to get more area for his saliva. It felt dirty, degrading. The prince whimpered softly.

Auberon removed his fingers, and paused. The prince braced himself, for whatever was going to happen next. Auberon hesitated a long time. The prince almost thought he had left, to take a look at the pathetic sight of a bound prince's bare ass in the air. He opened an eye slowly, trying to look over his shoulder for the dark man, but couldn't see him.

Instead, he felt him. Two hands spread the cheeks apart, and a wet finger pressing against his opening. The prince yelled in surprise, and tensed, feebly trying to squirm away from the insisting finger. Auberon responded by grabbing the prince's tied wrists to steady him, and then pressing harder, working past the muscles, into the young man's body. The prince whined, his struggling only augmenting the movement of the finger inside him. He decided instead to just hold still, make as little motion as possible.

The prince felt the finger move more comfortably, and soon the second one joined it, probing deeper, stretching him out. It was uncomfortable, a violation. He just wanted those fingers out of him. They moved faster, in and out, pressing against his inner walls. He was getting wider, the fingers moving freely. He barely felt it when a third one entered him, stretching him wider, twisting and pushing. A fourth finger, sliding around inside him.

The fingers were removed suddenly. He felt so open, exposed. Auberon must be able to see right down into him. He almost wanted the fingers to be replaced, just to cover up the hole. The fingers did not return. Something thicker, longer, harder entered him instead.

The prince gasped aloud. It felt as if Auberon had jammed something up into his ribs. His breath caught in his throat, his muscles froze. He had been impaled. Auberon's hands grabbed the prince's hips, and slowly began to pull out of him. The prince inhaled slowly, as if Auberon were pulling the breath through him. The young man struggled helplessly. The dark lord slid forward, then backward, slowly picking up speed. The prince felt the other man inside of him, filling him, only to feel him pull back, empty him. In and out, moving faster, deeper, rougher. Soon he moved with the same ease as the fingers had. Auberon thrust faster, his hips crashing into the prince's reddened ass. The young man gasped for breath, writhed beneath the dark man, uselessly. Auberon rammed into him, through him, it felt, pursuing his own pleasure without much thought to the state of the young body under him. The prince screamed. Though he was being used, against his will, he felt a strange contentment with the feeling of the hard mass of Auberon tearing in and out of him. He pushed back into the thrusts, unconsciously, though it hurt, though he was being treated like a dog. His toes curled inside his boots, the muscles in his thighs shivered uncontrollably. Auberon clutched the prince's hips, grunting with his efforts. The prince felt Auberon inside of him pulsate, grow larger for just a few moments, before with a deep growl released himself inside of the prince's body. Auberon remained in the young man for a moment to catch his breath, before pulling out of him entirely. The prince shuddered at the sudden emptiness. Unable to move, the prince remained how he was, used ass shamelessly perched in the air. His eyes fluttered closed.