The Prince Ch. 01

This story is written for the love of my life and dedicated to fulfilling every one of her fantasies. She has already exceeded so many of mine and continues to every day. Here's to the Prince that has always existed in her dreams and the love that has helped make him a reality.

As Amber looked to see her assignments for the day, she found herself wondering whether she was being rewarded or punished. She was assigned to the Prince's quarters. The possible meanings of this job were well known to anyone who had worked in the palace for more than a week. The Prince was said to be completely unreasonable in his demands and impossible to please. The most capable maid's were sent to him as a test to see just how good they were. On the other hand, maids who were disliked by the staff management were sent to him as a sentence of execution; they were never to work in the palace again.

The Prince had an incredible reputation that was enhanced upon each retelling. The Prince's fury was legendary and it was not uncommon for anyone working under him to come back with tears streaming down their face after meeting him. It was said that he had a glance that was full of fire, a fire so hot that it would leave any one caught in that glance burned to their core. Most felt as though they had been beaten after seeing him, but he never laid a hand on any member of the staff. Nearly every person that came into contact with him wondered what they had done to deserve the punishment of his gaze.

No maid lasted more than a month working for him. He demanded perfection and would tolerate nothing less. It seemed that no one could ever perform well enough for him. It was well known that this trait extended far past the realm of cleanliness. He would eat only the best food, drink only the best wine, and entertain only the most beautiful women. None of these women seemed to live up to him as he never met with any of them more than a handful of times.

Amber knew all of this, but she did not fear him. She knew how reputations could grow and that while there is always some truth in them, there is also exaggeration. She had never seen him in person, but she had heard that there was no mistaking him. It was said if anything could surpass his cruelty and malice it would be his strikingly handsome appearance. Surprisingly, no one seemed capable of giving a more thorough description than that.

It wasn't until she saw a finger pointing at her name on the sheet that she noticed how long she had been standing there staring. "I wonder, who made that decision?"

Amber knew that voice, it was her friend Marissa. Marissa had started working at the palace at about the same time that she had. They had both bonded quickly, even though Amber rarely bonded quickly or easily with anyone. They had found a sort of kinship with each other, one that had made it easy for the two of them to talk to each other.

"I don't know." Amber heard herself say.

"Are you all right?"

"I believe so, but, it is rather sudden."

Amber had only been working at the palace for a little over two years. No one that had been assigned to the Prince had worked for less five years. That was at least, no one until her.

"Someone in management must really like you or really hate you for you to have to deal with that," Marissa stated nodding her head in the direction of the Prince's quarters, outside the window.

"I'm sure that you must be liked, you do some of the best work out of all of us. I can't imagine it being anything else...I mean you always work hard...Anyone would be crazy not to like you." Marissa said trying, unsuccessfully, to look more sure than she sounded. However, Amber's placement baffled her. This was unheard of and left her feeling very uneasy and worried for her friend.

"I certainly hope that your right, but I will be okay. Don't worry too much." She replied calmly.

Marissa knew that Amber wasn't as calm as she sounded, but didn't want to place any more stress on her friend than she was sure she already had. "All right. So, I'll see you tonight?" Marissa asked more cheerfully than she felt.

"Of course"

The two friends then set off to their respective parts of the palace to do their work.

* * *

The Prince had a separate home that was apart from the rest of the Palace. It was originally intended to be used as a guest home for any visiting nobility from abroad. After the Prince had turned twenty-four he had taken it over for his own personal use. There had been rumors that a large quarrel had erupted between him and his family members when he had chosen to do this. No one had determined how he had won the battle, but it was said that no one, not even the king, ever brought up the matter again.

The home was not very large and did not contain nearly as many amenities as the main palace did, but it had a privacy that could scarcely be found anywhere else. The Prince did not allow any servants to live there. He had them sent for each day and they were only permitted to stay as long as it took for them to complete there task.

Amber began with cleaning the Prince's drawing room. It was quite large and elegant and its beauty matched up with the best rooms she had seen in the palace. It contained many items of luxury, but each seemed to fit the room in such a way that it was hard to tell if they made the room more beautiful or if the room made the items more beautiful. The room had several large windows on either side of it. One side glancing out toward a nearby cove and the other giving a view of the hill side and the distant city. It was a setting that she could only dream of being able to entertain guests at.

When she awoke herself from her short reverie, she realized how immaculate the room looked. It appeared that no one had used it in some time. However, she knew better than to go off of first appearances and began examining each and every item in the room to make certain that not a speck of dust was missed and every window was completely free of streaks.

It took her some time, but when she was done she felt pride in her work and knowing that it was cleaned as thoroughly as was physically possible. She then moved to work on the bathroom, then his studio, and finally the bedroom. In each room, she could not help but to think that this was what she had always imagined when she had thought of royalty. She realized that everything in each room was elegant and fit perfectly. She had been to other more imposing rooms of the palace, but none struck her in the way that the Prince's quarters did. She felt that no one could actually live here as no one could possibly live up to the rooms that she saw.

She forced herself to focus on her work and continued to scrub and clean every inch. When she finally finished the bedroom, she was completely exhausted. It had been more than twelve hours worth of stressful work and when she had completed it her body finally felt the fatigue of the passing hours. She accidentally fell asleep on the bed she had just made.

* * *

He had just come back from speaking to his father about the last girl he had rejected. His father had been furious at him, furious that he rejected all of these women when he knew it was his duty to produce an heir. The king did not know why it was that he feared his son, but he did know that he needed to produce an heir to keep the monarchy intact. His father did not realize that he had wanted him to marry for some time in the hopes that it would cure him of his insufferable demeanor. The Prince did not care what his father wanted, but he did know why, perhaps better than his father did.

The Prince knew that his father was beginning to worry that he would never produce an heir because he did not show the slightest interest in any of these renowned beauties. He was worried that his son was not interested in women at all. Even though nearly every woman had thrown herself at him upon first seeing him, he had stopped bedding them a few years prior. The Prince seemed more amused toying with these women than to use their bodies. He had learned everything there was to know about how to tease and overwhelm a woman's body by the time he was nineteen. Sleeping with these women had become boring to him.

He was thinking this as he walked into his bedroom and saw her lying there face down on his bed. He stopped. This was one of the few surprising moments he had experienced in his life. He thought that he should be angry, furious even. But he was not, he was curious. Not many people managed to surprise him and he was sure that he could derive some enjoyment from this situation.

He closed the door behind him very carefully, so as not to wake her. He stood there staring at her. He silently walked around the bed to look at her. He saw that she had a peaceful face, an innocent face. One so different from those of the noble women he was used to dealing with, it was not one filled with joyless mirth. The face also resembled nothing like those of the servants he had seen, it contained none of the senseless vulgarity. He then began noticing how well she had done her job, even checking the many traps he had laid that so many before her had missed and noticed that she had missed nothing.

He knew he had to punish her. He had to punish her in a way he had never punished anyone before because no one had dared to lay in his bed before. He felt something stirring within him that had never stirred before over any woman he had seen. He knew what he had to do.

He gently kissed her on the cheek and cautiously moved his body so that she was trapped underneath him. She did not stir as he touched as little of her as possible. When he was over her, he began kissing up and down her neck. He was kissing her gently at first and then more forcefully. He was licking and sucking the wondrous skin on the back of her neck. She let out a slight whimper and was slowly woken up as his kisses became more intense.

When she awoke fully she at first believed herself to still be dreaming. The moisture and warmth she felt on her neck was wonderful. She didn't open her eyes fearing that it would end the dream. She allowed herself to moan with pleasure.

"Having a sweet dream, my little whore?" a voice asked cruelly.

Her eyes flew open and she realized exactly where she was. She feared moving any further. She lay frozen knowing whose voice that had been. She felt his body over hers. She felt his warmth and she felt those wonderful lips on her neck. She knew one of his hands was beginning to explore her body and slightly tug at her clothing.

"Has the dream ended? What a shame it appeared that you were enjoying it so much...Then again, perhaps you are still dreaming. Except for this isn't a dream, is it; it is a nightmare." She could hear his voice laughing at her while he said this.

"Please, I, I'm s-sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep. I won't ever...oh..." She couldn't finish as his hand had slid over her breast.

"You won't ever do this again? Please, Please stop. I'm helpless you win, just forgive me and let me go. That's what you want to say isn't it?"

As he said this she couldn't help but moan again. He forced her to turn over on to her back, continuing to pin her down. He was grabbing her nipple through her uniform and pinching it. All she could do was gasp. He relented for an instant.

"Answer." The voice was cold and unyielding.

"Answer what?"

Her uniform was ripped open to expose her breast.

"Is that what you wanted to say." The voice had nearly as much of an effect on her body as his hands did. She did not want to show it, but she couldn't control the power he seemed to hold over every bit of her body.

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I, wanted to beg you to forgive me...to," it was so hard to focus on saying the words.

"To, what?"

"To ask you to let me go; to ask, you to stop."

"What do you want me to stop?"

She knew there were so many things that she wanted to tell him to stop, but she could barely form a thought. He seemed to have taken her ability to speak, her ability to think. She knew for the first time in her life what it meant to be helpless. He held each of her hands pinned with one of his own as he licked her exposed breast. Then he stopped for just a moment leaving her body locked as it had been. She looked at him. She saw his eyes.

They looked at her and she felt as if she were far more naked looking into those eyes than she ever could be by just having her clothes removed. She felt as if they stared at each other for hours. She felt as if she knew more about him by looking into those eyes than if they had spoken for those hours they seemed to stare at each other for. They only locked eyes for a few moments. She forgot that those eyes were supposed to make her feel nothing but unrelenting pain and fury.

Then he kissed her. She felt him let go of her arms and grabbed onto him. She pulled herself closer wanting to be closer to that great warmth inside of him. He broke the kiss. He slid his hand underneath her skirt rubbing over top of her undergarments.

She yelped. She remembered why she had been frightened before. She tried to push him off of her. His touch was like nothing she had ever felt before. She knew that she should fight the feeling, that this was wrong, but she couldn't help enjoying it.

"What do you want me to stop?"

"Please, not there," her body was thrashing violently about; it felt so good. "Please, I, I'll never, oh, do it, again."

"If I let you go how will I know you've learned your lesson. How will I know that you've paid the proper price." After he said this she felt him rip her skirt from top to bottom. He then grabbed her top and ripped it the rest of the way down. She was exposed. The only thing covering her was her underwear.

She tried to push him off of her. She tried to escape. She knew that she had to or that he was going to force himself inside of her. He laughed. He let her get out from underneath him. He let her run to the door. It was locked. She could not escape. He walked up to her slowly. He stared right into her eyes. She was powerless. He leaned close to her, she felt his breath on her cheek. He removed the remainder of her top as she stared into those eyes. They shined like gold. They shined like his hair. Those eyes had an awful power. She could not explain it, but she felt as though her soul was laid bare before them. She wanted to do anything those eyes told her.

When she looked at his face she knew that she would never meet a more attractive man. She knew that the attraction she felt to him was not just by his physical beauty, but to something much stronger. Something that left her completely powerless. She did not understand what it was, but she knew it was there and somehow she knew that he felt it too. She knew that this power was what caused him to hold her in his gaze for longer than he intended.

He moved closer. She was pressed up against the wall. He pinned her to it. She felt the storm raging inside of his body. She knew he wanted to throw her onto the bed and take her right then, but there was something he wanted to do first.

"Your choice to run from me was the first time you disappointed me. You proved that I need to take action in order to make sure that you are disciplined properly." he said coldly.

"Do what you will with me," she said defeated, "I know now that I cannot escape or expect mercy."

He felt an intense hunger in his body for her. A hunger that he had never felt before, but he was going to wait until the lesson was finished before satisfying that hunger.

His hand lingered over her body, lightly caressing it as he moved away and said, "Remove your underwear."

She did as she was told as he sat in one of the chairs.

"You have misbehaved like a naughty child haven't you?"

"...yes...yes, I have."

"And how do you punish a naughty child?"

She cringed, knowing the answer. Hesitantly she replied, "With a..."

"With a what?"

"With a spanking."

"That's right, now come here." he said, pointing to his lap.

She obeyed, laying herself over his lap so that he could spank her.

He then said, "While a spanking would be appropriate for a girl that misbehaves, I don't believe that it is appropriate for an apparent slut."

She felt her cheeks flush red. She could not stand that insult. "I am not a slut." she stated indignantly.

He smacked her ass. She yelped. He then went on to say, "Only a whore would be as wet as you are now." Running his fingers between her lips as he said so eliciting a moan from her. "Only a slut would want to be fucked as you clearly do now."

"I, I don't want to, be fucked." she said between gasps for air as he continued running his fingers splitting apart her lips. "I, am not a slut. I've never, done, anything, like this before."

She couldn't describe the feeling. She didn't think that it was possible to feel what she was feeling. She knew the feeling should disturb her, but she couldn't focus on that thought; her mind had no power over the sensations going up and down her spine.

"Well, I don't believe you and I am going to make sure that you never want to be fucked again because I am going to ruin you for all other men. No man will ever be able to satisfy you when I am through with you. Sex will become an exercise in futility with any of them.

"I am going to punish you by spanking you until you admit you are a whore. I will force you to moan like one, by not removing this hand." he said showing which one he meant by rubbing a finger over her clit.

He took his left hand and smacked his palm against her ass. She shrieked in pleasure. She couldn't stop moaning. She couldn't stop screaming. It felt so good. She felt her hips trying to grind into his hand. She felt them bucking against fingers. She felt a finger pressed against her entrance and she moved her body trying to allow her lips to swallow it. He wouldn't let her. She wanted to feel a part of him inside of her so badly.

"Admit that your a whore," he said allowing his finger to move inside of her a little more before taking it back to the edge of her entrance.

"Please! Please! I can't say that, it's, not true." she pleaded knowing how weak her words sounded amongst her moans.

"Then I will not treat you like a whore." he stated firmly.

He continued teasing her. She had no choice.

"I am a...whore."

His finger moved inside of her a little.

"Are you a dirty little slut?"

"Yes"

"Say it."

"I'm a dirty little slut!"

He moved his finger further into her.

"Will you do anything to have me fuck you?"

"I need to be fucked!"

He moved his finger all the way into her rubbing over her G-spot. She came in a violent orgasm. She felt him move his finger out of her and him picking her up. He carried her and laid her down on his bed.

She laid there for a moment feeling aftershocks ripping through her body from the orgasm. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before and it left her completely helpless, but craving more. When she finally had gotten used to the feeling, to a certain extent, she looked over at him and saw his naked body. He was tall and had a very lean muscular build. She could see how strong he was, but his muscles were not large and bloated, they were taut like a stretched cord. Then, she saw how large he was and wondered if it was possible for him to fit inside of her. She wanted him. She wanted all of him.

"Now, my pet, do you still need to be fucked?" he asked.

She felt herself nodding her head as she sat up.

"Then use your mouth to get me nice and wet so that I can slide inside of you."