How a Princess became a Queen

Prince Fazil was struck by a feeling of déjà vu as the wooden cart clattered its way through the gates of Hanimat under the star strewn oblivion of the desert night's sky. Dressed as he was along with 2 of his most loyal soldiers as members of the city guards, they rode unchallenged through the winding streets, receiving nothing but respectful nods from those they passed which he returned solemnly, his face hidden behind the cloth scarf the worn by the night watchmen to protect themselves from the biting desert wind.

Though empty, the sights and smells all reminded him of his last trip to the vast city. Just over a year ago, he as well as dozens of other suiters from across the continent had rode through the city's great gates at the behest of Sultan Nazam. The Sultan himself had invited them all hoping to find a match for his daughter the Princess Samira, a great beauty renowned throughout the known world.

It was no surprise that dozens of men clamoured for her favour at the palace gates when summoned, and were swiftly turned away. Not Fazil though, he was confident of winning her affections without resorting to such tactics. As crowned Prince of Sanadat, women threw themselves at his feet not the other way around so when he got his audience with the Princess he offered her every courtesy that befitted a noble lady but made no attempts at the shameless sycophancy he'd seen exhibited by lesser men as she lay there on her great silken couch surrounded by a tittering flock of handmaids and servants.

"Oh good, another puffed up lordling come to take me back to whatever stinking ruin he calls home," she had jeered as her flock of hens giggled around her.

"Your highness please," the royal advisor rushed forward desperately, wringing his hands. "Prince Fazil has come a long way and would make a superb match for our two kingdoms. Your father is very keen you hear him out."

"My father wants to sell me off like a camel to line his own pockets," she scoffed, shooing the advisor away before scornfully turning her gaze back to Fazil. "Run home little Prince, and you can tell my father I'll choose my match when I'm good and ready!" She called above the shrieking laughter of her handmaids as the doors boomed closed behind him.

The memory still riled him even now. The only consolation for him was returning home to his Sanadat, a beautiful and wealthy city that stood as the crown jewel of his family's lands. For nearly a year, he'd been content to preside from his opulent palace but the memory of Princess Samira ate away at him, gnawing at him from the inside out until whenever he closed his eyes to sleep, he dreamed only of her. He'd never felt such joy as when a few weeks ago, a gilded letter came for him with the wax seal of Hanimat embossed upon its front.

Fazil could feel his excitement growing as they clattered to a halt underneath the Princess' tower. Silently, he dismounted while his men removed two sturdy wooden chests from the back of the wagon. With a nod, the three masked men silently made their way to the door. Fazil rapped lightly on the sturdy timber and almost immediately, it swung open to reveal the torchlit interior. A shadowy figure in a long cloak ushered them inside, only their eyes visible behind their dark veil, darting quickly around behind the men to make sure they weren't being followed. Fazil grinned behind his mask as he saw the 6 heavily built guards all slumped over the table snoring.

"Good work Lila," he turned to the shadowy figure, who shook her long hair free as she took off her own hood and scarf. The pretty handmaiden's deep brown eyes were alive with excitement as she grinned back.

"I put the powder in the wine just like you told me!" She whispered back, breathless with excitement.

"And you made sure they all drank plenty?" asked the Prince, seriously.

"They've been sound asleep for a good hour," the girl practically bounced with excitement as she spied the chests held by his two silent companions.

"Is that my treasure?" She breathed, her eyes sparkling as she made her way over but found her wrist seized as she was pulled round to face Fazim.

"One chest is yes, but you get nothing until the job is done," he reminded her sharply.

She pulled her wrist away sulkily, massaging it where he'd gripped her. "Fine," she grunted petulantly. "She's upstairs follow me." The four of them padded up the grand spiral staircase, every step carefully placed to make as little noise as possible until they reached the top. Putting her finger to her lips, Lila slowly pushed the door open.

Fazil's heart hammered in his chest as he stalked over to the bed, moonlight dimly silhouetting the contents of the huge, elegant bedroom. He slowly drew back the hangings and for the first time in what was now just over a year, caught sight of the Princess. Her jet-black hair was spread across the silk pillows, her face just as elegantly beautiful as he remembered. Her breasts rose and fell enticingly beneath the thin silk bedsheet, one of her long sculpted legs was resting on top of the material. She looked so peaceful as she slumbered beneath him, it almost seemed a shame to do what he was about to do, Fazil reflected as, in one fluid movement he seized her, one hand roughly clamped over her mouth, the other holding her arm down on the bed as he pinned her to the sheets with his bodyweight.

She woke with a startled gasp into his hand, struggling delightfully as her eyes shot open wide with fear.

"Quiet, be quiet and nobody gets hurt," he hissed.

"Gmmmmrds!" She tried to call into his hand desperately but found virtually no sound escaped his vice like grip.

She stopped struggling immediately as the brute drew his dagger which she eyed fearfully.

"Are you going to be quiet and stay still?" The man breathed as he lay on top of her. She nodded vigorously, her breathing heavy as her face was squeezed tightly by her assailants calloused hand sealing her lips. The hand never left its position as he stood, pulling the sheet off of her to examine his prize in her skimpy night clothes.

"Hold still Princess," he ordered and Samira screwed her eyes shut in fear as she felt the knife edge against her stomach. But the pain never came and with a ripping sound, the dagger had cleaved her night dress in two, leaving her breasts exposed to this lowly peasant. The humiliation was unbearable, she instinctively drew her arms across her chest, trying to retain a shred of dignity. The brute responded by deftly slicing away her only remaining undergarments and her royal womanhood was helplessly exposed to his lusty gaze.

Such was her fear and outrage as she stared in disbelief at her own naked body that she didn't realise until it was too late that his other hand was moving to her face and with a pathetic garbled squeak, his grip finally relented and her underclothes were stuffed roughly into her mouth. The rogue manhandled her, forcefully pulling a thick white cloth over her lips, turning her over so her face was pressed into the pillow as he straddled her, tightly knotting the gag behind her head. He seized her wrists, binding them tightly behind her back as she whimpered into her smallclothes, but her assailant wasn't done. She felt his strong hands grip her ankles, pulling them together and roping them against one another with practised ease.

She rolled as he finally got off in a bid to identify her attacker her but found his face masked. More figures emerged from the shadows as they stepped forward, effortlessly lifting her from the bed and forcing her to her knees before her captor and another figure. Her stomach dropped as she looked up into the face of her own servant.

Lila's face was alive with glee as she watched them manhandle her royal mistress. "I've been looking forward to this for weeks, you stuck up bitch," she enthused as she looked down at the Princess. "My days of bowing and scraping in front of you are finally done!"

"Quiet Lila," Fazil ordered sharply. "Your job is done, claim your prize and leave. You will never speak of this. Give her what she's owed boys." Prince Fazil's men remained silent but with stoic nods, the hulking soldiers escorted the handmaiden over to the chests.

"That one is for you," whispered the shorter of the two.

With a wicked gleam in her deep brown eyes, Lila knelt before the chest. Her fingers worked eagerly at the catches, feverish with anticipation as she eased open the heavy lid. Her face fell.

Empty. The bewildered girl managed to get out a "wha-" before a rough hand clamped over her mouth.

"Nmmmph!" She squealed desperately as she was roughly pushed to the floor. She felt the cold embrace of shackles being locked first around her wrists then her ankles. She almost choked on the fingers and cloth forced past her lips as she was gagged, struggling for all she was work against their iron grip as a leather strap was savagely tightened around her head.

"Ahhm!" She gasped as she was grabbed by the hair and pulled up to a kneeling position.

"Hold still bitch" hissed the big ape, his meaty fist pulling her up by her long dark hair. She breathed hard, her eyes darting around in panic before they settled on Fazil's masked face, his eyes betraying his cruel smirk as he looked down at her.

"Strip her."

"Nmmmph!" Lila squealed as her clothes were effortlessly torn away, her undergarments quickly followed. She felt the cold of the marble floor, unable to believe how quickly the situation had turned against her.

"Silly girl," chuckled Fazil, stroking his hand against her cheek at which she recoiled, twisting away, spitting curses into her gag. "You're a loose end I'm afraid, thank you for all your help but it'd be far too risky to let you just go running off, so you're going to enjoy some of my hospitality. Boys, show the lady to her carriage."

Dalia was hoisted into the air and dumped unceremoniously into the open chest. "NNNmmmph!" She managed a final shriek before her head was forced down inside and the lid fastened shut.

Samira shook with fear as the masked man turned back to her, the only sound in the room was the knocking and barely audible protests from inside the chest.

"Arrmg!" She cried a muffled protest as he seized a handful of her ebony hair.

"You're all mine now Princess," the masked man leered at her heaving bosom as she desperately shook her head. "Lets go boys," he whispered to his men, grinning as he watched the squawking girl buck like a wildcat as she was crammed into the wooden box.

The three men hurried down the staircase, the two boxes thumping as their occupants struggled desperately as they were secured on the back of the wagon. Both captives redoubled their effort as the felt the movement of the cart beneath them as they were smuggled out of the city and into the desert night.

Samira struggled to slow her breathing, she wouldn't allow herself to panic. These were probably bandits looking to ransom her. Father would pay them, then hunt them down and kill them, they wouldn't dare to hurt her.

For what must've been hours she endured the cramped journey, bumping around within the accursed box, but when they finally stopped and she felt her tiny wooden prison lifted, carried and finally deposited on solid ground, fear gripped her again so tightly she almost wished she were still on the cart.

The click of the lock heralded the blinding light that seeped in through the growing opening as the box's lid was prized open. She clumsily uncurled her bound form, blinking as her eyes adjusted, darting around as more of her surroundings became clear. She was inside a richly coloured tent, the white cloth walls draped in deep read sashes and cushions covering the opulently carpeted floor.

Before she was done blinking though, hands seized her, hoisting her from the chest and onto the floor. She struggled feebly, trying to shake her tumbling hair from her face as she was pulled across her captor's lap.

"Mmmmph!" She screeched her outrage as he brought his hand down hard across her ass with a stinging 'crack'. With a throaty chuckle, he delivered three more hard spanks across her shapely rear.

"Oh, be quiet girl," he chided, his hand massaging her delicate stinging flesh, enjoying the firm smooth rump of his royal prize. He turned her over in his lap, his hands hungrily exploring the haughty beauty's form, mauling her full breasts to his heart's content as she wriggled around in her bonds. The impotent range on her face as she made pathetic attempts to free herself made the Prince's member throb with desire. He let her struggle for a few moments, content to watch her bouncing bound form helplessly presented before him before he decided enough was enough.

"Be still and be quiet woman," he growled, his hand at her throat. Her eyes widened in fear as she complied, seeing no mercy in the eyes of her masked captor. Bare chested, he was lean and muscled, only the almond eyes and bridge of his nose showing behind his mask.

"Listen," he ordered. Silence fell over the pair as Samira complied. At first, only sound of her own heavy breathing filled her ears but after a moment a curious combination of muffled scuffling, slaps, grunts and laughter could be faintly heard from outside the tent, punctuated with occasional muffled sounds of a woman clearly in some distress.

"That's the sound of the handmaiden that betrayed you Princess," explained her captor, his crinkling eyes betraying the sadistic grin he wore. "She's staked out naked in the midday sun while my men have their fun with her, would you like to join her?" He asked politely.

Samira shook her head vigorously, her throat still in his grasp. "Then you'd best behave yourself, now are you thirsty?"

She gave a slightly wary nod. "I'm going to take your gag off and give you a drink, scream and you'll get a much harder spanking, understood?"

She nodded. Fazil hooked his finger around the with cloth over her mouth, pulling it down around her neck and prizing the sodden clump of undergarments crammed into her mouth from between her lips and dropping it to the floor as she spluttered and coughed. Once she'd regained her breath, he gently held a jewelled chalice of water to her lips which she drank greedily, the liquid spilling out around her mouth and down her chest. Wordlessly he refilled the cup, allowing her another drink.

She gasped her relief as she finished the second cupful, her gaze returning to her captor. "If you want gold, my father will pay. Just give me some clothes and I can help, if we work together we could probably coax more out of hi-mmmph!" She found a hand clamped over her lips, silencing her completely.

"Not everything is about gold Princess," Fazil chided. He pulled off the mask and headscarf and revelled in the look of horrified recognition on her elegant features as she stared wide eyed up at the man who's favour she'd scornfully ignored at the palace.

"I see you remember me," he chuckled as he watched the fear blossom in her eyes. "I made a mistake coming to ask you favour, I am a Prince after all, if I see something I want, I take it. And I want you Princess," he smirked down at her, his fingers still tightly clamped over her mouth. His free hand reached down into his lap, just by her face. Samira made a noise of deeply indignant disgust as for the first time she glanced away from his face, realising her nose was inches from his member, clearly stiff and visible in his loose-fitting breeches. She tried her best to struggle as she watched his free hand deftly unlace the front and the rampant rod spring forth.

"This is your life now Princess," he hissed lustfully, her eyes hypnotically drawn to the sizeable phallus bobbing before them. "My royal whore, the crowning jewel in my harem. I have 44 wives at present and in time, you will be number 45. Once you've accepted your new life, you'll sit beside me as my Queen, you'll worship my cock, warm my bed, pour my wine and bear me many children. Doesn't that sound delightful?" He laughed heartily at her muffled protest, pressing his member hard against her cheek. She screeched her indignation but his grip was like iron. After she'd realised her struggle was hopeless he finally removed the hand, allowing her to kneel up next to him.

"You're mad," she spat, her face red eyes wild. "My father would gut you and burn your city to the ground before he'd let such a thing happen."

"Your father set this plan in motion," the Prince laughed. "He was sick of being disobeyed and decided to make the decision for you." He stood, leaving the bound girl to struggle on the floor.

"Liar!" She growled at him, twisting with all her might as he strode over to the table, retrieving some lengths of black leather, he advanced menacingly on her, his cock still rampant and pointing straight at her and his toned torso still bare.

"Stay still while I put your collar on," he ordered.

"How dare you, get back, get back you repugnant son of a whore!" She screeched in disbelief that he presumed to collar her like some misbehaving pup, jerking away and tumbling to the floor as she tried to wriggle away. With a shake of his head and a sigh, Fazil pinned her to the floor with his shin over her waist, buckling the collar around her throat as she cursed and bit for all she was worth at him.

"Its about time someone taught you some manners, your highness," he grunted as he held up the hood that he'd dropped to the floor. "Now hold still, I need to cover up that pretty face of yours."

"Get off, get off you bastard," she whined until Fazil clamped his hand back over her mouth.

"Silence, you pathetic whore," he spat, anger flashing in his eyes for the first time. "Only a handful of people know of the plan to abduct you, I can't have half the kingdom blabbing about it when I parade you in front of my people so I'm going to make sure you're not recognised."

"Oh yes," he smirked at she realised his meaning, "you will be paraded naked before the city, what better way to break you of your arrogance? I made sure to loudly inform my people was that I was headed into the hills to root out some bandits, you will play the parts of the dead chief's wife, bought home as my prize, neat isn't it? Now hold still while I put it on, unless you want the mob to know it was the great Princess Samira they saw dragged through the streets like a common strumpet."

Samira couldn't believe this was happening as she lay still cursing this vile beast of a man over and over as the hood was laced tightly over her head. She spluttered as she realised there was a leather plug inside that slid into her mouth gagging her once again. With the hood secured, he cut away her bonds.

In a last desperate attempt to free herself, Samira swung a clumsy punch at where she guessed his head was but a pair of strong arms forced her wrist painfully up behind her, pushing her over to the table which Fazil bent her over. She felt his manhood pressed into her naked ass through his still unlaced breeches and for a horrible moment she though he meant to take her then and there but he simply grabbed her other wrist, sealing them behind her back with heavy manacles. He gave her ass one more hard slap to punish her for her disobedience, leaving a red imprint across her curvaceous buttock.

He leaned over still pressed against her, his hot breath on her neck as his lips were inches from her hood covered ear. "You will learn to obey Princess," he assured her as his rod pressed harder still against her rear. "And sooner or later you'll beg me for the honour of my cock."

Pulling her back to her feet, he led the naked, stumbling Princess out of the tent into the desert sun by the ring on the front of her collar. He couldn't suppress a wide grin as he clipped the chain secured to the back of his saddle to her collar. Samira's stomach dropped as she felt a tug at her neck, the horse trotted forward, leading the blind captive on towards the gleaming city on the horizon.