How a Princess became a Queen

Samira knew they'd passed the gates by the noise of the people all around her. They whooped, jeered and laughed as she blindly staggered her way past them, sweat soaking her gorgeous body.

"The noble prince Fazil, returned with the wife of the bandit chief as his trophy, won after he defeated the villain in single combat!" Boomed a royal announcer to the cheers of the gathered crowd.

A chorus of 'whore', 'bitch' and other insults crueller still rained on her from all sides, Samira was terrified under her hood of what they might do to her. She got the fright of her life at one point as she felt a hand grip her roughly by the arm. But at the sound of a sword being drawn and a thud, the overkeen crowd member quickly let go, whether killed or merely threatened she didn't know.

At long last, she felt the stone change beneath her feet and doors close behind her, all but muffling the huge crowd outside. Her relief was short lived though as her leash was untied from the horse and she found herself being tugged along by an anonymous hand. Down and down they went into the chilly depths of the palace dungeons until she was shoved into a room and forced to kneel as her shackles and the stifling hood were removed.

"Welcome to your new home Princess," chuckled Fazil as he slammed the cell door behind him.

***

Samira rattled desperately at the heavy door for the umpteenth time. "Let me out you pigs, I'm Princess Samira of Hanimat and I demand you let me free!" She shrieked into the echoing corridor outside. With her hands freed, her hood and collar lay flung into the corner of her cramped cell and she was using her newly freed voice for all it was worth but she was met with only the echoes of her own protests. Eventually, she gave up, huddling for warmth on the least filthy looking section of the floor. She hung her head, trying to fight back tears as she wracked her brain for any means of escape. She couldn't stop thinking about what Fazil had said though, he couldn't mean it, her father would never allow this to happen to his own daughter.

Her head jerked up as the door to her cell creaked and two stone-faced guards pushed their way in. "You! Guards, my father is very wealthy if you get me safely back to Hanimat I swear he'll- stop, stop it what're you doing?" She cried out, cursing them and kicking desperately as they pinned her to the back wall, locking first her arms then her legs into manacles bolted to the stone and spreading her limbs wide apart.

"You can't leave me like this, do you hear me? Come back!" She screeched impotently after them as they wordlessly filed out again, taking their places just outside the door as another figure strode in.

Samira's eyes widened as she laid eyes on her latest visitor. Dressed in blue silk, the girl timidly scurried into the cell, her eyes downcast at the floor. She jingled as she went, golden medallions hung around her waist and below her breasts. The flowing garments were almost laughably small and near completely transparent. The girl was practically as naked as she was, reflected Samira. It was not the clothes that fascinated her though.

The honey-coloured hair, pale skin and blue eyes were a rarity even for a Princess' eyes, occasionally Northmen would visit the market to trade but never before had she seen one of their women among them. Samira adjusted quickly though as the pale beauty advanced on her and, noticing her collar, the Princess seized her opportunity.

"You, girl," she whispered. "Get me out of here, we can both be free. My father will make you a rich woman."

"Please be quiet," begged the girl in a barely audible whisper as she began wiping the grime away from Samira's bound body with a cloth.

"I can promise you lands, titles whatever you desire, just free me."

"We can't get out, nobody gets out, the master catches them." The blonde whispered back as she scrubbed at the Princess' legs.

"My father has an army, if you can get word to him I swear he can free us," Samira insisted, speaking in even further hushed tones.

The mystery blonde paused for the briefest of moments, before hurriedly carrying on with a furtive glance over her shoulder. "Please be quiet, they'll punish me," she replied, her voice barely a whisper as she continued her work. Finally content, the blonde gave the Princess an apologetic glance before adding a cold dab of perfume to her womanhood and on each nipple at which Samira gave a squeak at the sudden chill on her most sensitive of areas.

As she leant forward to brush Samira's tangled hair though, the blonde whispered in her ear.

"You can really get us out?"

"I promise," Samira breathed back excitedly.

"I'll visit you tonight with some parchments, if we get a letter to your father, he'll bring his soldiers?"

"Absolutely and I'll make sure you're rewarded well," Samira assured her saviour, elation bubbling in her chest. With a tiny nod, the girl hurried out of the cell, the door closing behind her with a thud.

Allowing herself a satisfied smirk at her negotiation skills she relaxed as best she could in her restraints trying to occupy her mind as the day wore on, the light creeping slowly up the wall as the sun began to set. She was about three quarters of the way through counting the bricks when the door swung open and in strolled Fazil, smirking as he hungrily looked her up and down. Dressed In deep red robes, he was looking decidedly more Princelike than before, and his cocksure swagger repulsed the captive Samira as he entered. She forgot this feeling entirely though as she realised he wasn't alone. With an imperious tug at the leash in his hand, the figure of a woman crawled in beside him.

Completely naked, she shuffled along the floor by his feet, her wrists and ankles chained together. The woman's face was largely obscured by a host of straps that criss-crossed it, all making sure that the enormous leatherbound bit between her teeth remained tightly in place. A thick leather collar circled her throat, the chain for her leash secured to it at the base of her neck continuing down her slender back to a metal rod that began just below the middle of her spine. With horrified disgust, Samira saw the rod curled round into a hook buried within the girl's rear so any tug of the chain sent it deeper up her helplessly presented derriere.

"Get in here, slut," barked Fazil yanking the leash as she struggled to keep up. The girl let loose a pitiable moan, awkwardly hurrying to catch up. Fazil stopped in front of the captive Princess, his cruelly handsome face plastered with smug self-satisfaction.

"You... you monster," Samira stuttered, transfixed at the bizarrely cruel treatment of the crawling captive.

"I thought you'd approve Princess," chuckled Fazil, giving a savage pull on the chain so the girl was forced to kneel up with a muffled cry, back arched as far back as it would go and her tits thrust forward as the metal ball on the hook nestled its way deeper inside her.

"She betrayed you after all," Samira's face fell as the girl knelt upwards as she realised the face she stared down at was none other than her former handmaid. Lila's eyes were desperate as she squirmed to relieve the discomfort, caught between the woman she'd betrayed and this sadistic tyrant.

Samira's eyes hardened as she stared down at Lila, it served her right. She'd make sure to leave the little bitch here when her father's men arrived.

"You truly are a wonderful creature," Fazil's lecherous gaze made her shiver as he looked her up and down, reaching a hand forward to close his fingers around her helplessly offered breast.

"You godless cur, stop that, stop it!" Samira tried to twist away but chained spread eagle, she had nowhere to go. She gasped as his hand moved between her legs, cupping her sex and pulling her closer to him hips first. Her following cry of protest was cut off as he forced his lips down onto hers, enjoying her squirming for a few moments before he broke it off.

"You're going to make a wonderful addition to my harem Princess," said Fazil gleefully, rubbing his hand between her thighs. Recovering quickly from the kiss, Samira spat full in his face. Fazil quickly stepped back with a muttered curse, wiping away the spit from his cheek. Samira's satisfaction quickly gave way to fear as he looked back at her, anger flashing in his eyes.

"You insolent slut," he growled after a moment. "Guards! Help me teach my new wife some manners before she meets her sisters." Two guards filed in, each with an array of chains and leather belts that made Samira's stomach drop to behold. The Prince made straight for one item in particular, letting go of Lila's leash at which she gasped with relief, falling to the floor. He advanced menacingly on Samira who pulled at her manacles to no avail.

"My women are quiet Princess," Fazil explained with a smirk. He held a thick leather gag, a polished wooden phallus mounted to the inside, Samira shook her head, sealing her lips tightly and gritting her teeth as she pulled her head back as far as she could.

"Open your mouth or you'll get the same treatment as Lila!" Fazil barked. Samira's eyes flitted to the pathetic sight of her former handmaid and back to the Prince and feeling sick to her stomach, she was forced to relent and allowed the hateful device into her mouth.

"Perfect," laughed the Prince, standing back to admire. "I have no use for your voice until you learn to obey."

She knew protest would do her no good. Samira resolved to act according to her station until her rescue and elegantly raised her head, disdainfully looking down her nose at her captor as if he were dirt under her shoe. For a moment, the pair stayed like that, eyes locked and almost daring the other to continue. Fazil clicked his fingers. Immediately Samira was set upon by the guards, they roughly uncuffed her and manacled her wrists behind her back again.

With a hand on her head, she was forced to her knees then down further still until her face was squashed against the cold stone floor, her ass sticking up enticingly behind her. Her only view was of Fazil's foot in front her face.

Pain arched from her rear, the sting causing her to yelp into her gag. Fazil stood above her, mercilessly bringing his crop down on her again and again, the leather whistling through the air. Despite her best efforts, Samira's newfound resolve crumbled quickly and by the 5th stroke she was pleading into her leather gag for him to stop. Once he'd reached 10, he handed the crop back, instead taking two small golden bells from the guard stood next to him while his fellow held the Princess in place.

"Get her up," he ordered. Samira was pulled to her feet, her ass smarting and with red marks criss-crossing the pale caramel skin.

"Now Princess, will you spit on me again?" Fazil asked, his nose inches from hers. She shook her head, her eyes turned to pleading. "Good now hold still, I've got some jewellery for my future bride." He grinned evilly, holding up the golden bells. Samira gasped in pain as she felt him apply the camps to her nipples, the jingling bells dangling beneath her bouncing breasts. Next came a gold collar, clasped tightly at her throat and finally the leash, clipped to it.

"Come on dearest, lets show you around." Fazil grinned, tugging her along as they began the long climb back upstairs to the Prince's tower. Samira scanned her surroundings as they went, not even sure what she was looking for but anything that she thought may aid her escape when the time came but smooth dark stone gave way only to more of the same as they climbed. Craning her neck round, she saw Lila struggling to keep up as she crawled up the stairs, her gag-muffled exclamations occasionally echoing up the spiral passageway as the guard holding her leash gave an impatient tug.

Eventually, the last dregs of daylight filtered in as the sunset could be seen outside the windows and the tower seemed to transform. The staircase widened suddenly, the bare walls became festooned with beautiful artworks and mosaics as they climbed. Outside an ornate set of doors, the party stopped. Samira noted the two golden statues that flanked the decadent entry. Each a naked maiden, a crown of flowers in her hair and an enormous python curled around her as she stood frozen as if in the middle of a dance.

"Allow me to introduce you to your new sisters," Fazil tugged her lash once again as he led her into the room before addressing his men over his shoulder. "Take Lila down to the barracks before you send her to the kennels if you want boys, you deserve a bit of fun."

The sound of Lila's pleading was cut off as the doors slammed shut behind them. Samira's eyes were wide as saucers. The room hung with the sweet perfume of smoke and incense, torches, candles and braziers bathing the scene in flickering light. Across the luxurious pillows, plush couches and expensive carpets, even strapped to the walls and dangling from the ceiling, the room was alive with undulating female flesh. The air was simmering with gasps and moans as the sea of naked bodies writhed against one another, tongues lapped between heavenly legs, breasts rose and fell sensually, whips cracked and chains clinked but the moment Fazil entered, each and every woman stopped what they were doing. Those whose movements were free scrambled to kneel, heads bowed as he strode proudly towards the throne in the centre of the room. He stopped though as they came perhaps 20 feet in front of the magnificent chair.

He turned to face Samira, immensely enjoying her horrified awe at the display. "Take her," he ordered.

At once, dozens of hands were pulling at Samira, beautiful bodies swarming around her as they tugged at her naked form insistently. A blizzard of eagerly exploring fingers groped, caressed and stroked her supple skin. She felt the shackles removed but in truth she was even more immobilised, lost to the whims of this flock of whores. Her muffled shrieks of protest were lost in the maelstrom.

When the women finally dissipated, Samira found herself stretched between two poles, her arms and legs spread wide in a star shape and the gag still firmly lodged in her mouth. She never felt so exposed and blushed scarlet as every eye in the room trained itself leeringly at her bound, spread form. Fazil had taken his seat in the ornate throne to watch the proceedings, lounging back as he delicately selected a grape from the plate held by the girl kneeling at his side. Her only clothing was gold rings through her nipples and a sheer red veil over the lower part of her face.

"Ah Ellara, welcome my dear," the Prince smiled warmly at someone behind her. Hearing the echoing footsteps Samira craned her neck attempting to look over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as the pale skinned slavegirl from her cell confidently strutted her way across the room. Their eyes met briefly as she strode past, a smirk lighting up her lovely features, before she refocused her gaze on the Prince. Gone was the timid girl Samira had met, the blonde oozed elegant confidence, head held high as she approached Fazil.

She knelt at his feet, bowing deeply to shower his sandaled feet with kisses before he held up his hand with a lazy flick of the wrist. She sat up, crossing her arms behind her back. Fazil's lustful glare never left Samira during the hole display but it was the blonde he directed his question to.

"So, what did you learn from my new bride?"

"She still believes her father will come for her my lord," she replied with a small giggle. "She even tried bribing me to help her to escape."

Fazil chuckled, his eyes travelling up and down his captive, deeply enjoying the betrayal and defeat on her gorgeous features as she realised her only ally had merely been a cruel ploy.

"Remember when you wanted nothing more than to escape me Ellara?" He asked the blonde, his eyes firmly trained on Samira's magnificent breasts, his manhood swelling beneath his robes as he watched the swinging of the dangling golden bells.

"Yes sir," she dropped her smile, hanging her head in shame.

"Why don't you show her how much you enjoy your position now," ordered the Prince with a twisted grin.

"Of course master," she lifted her head once more sultry eyes on his for a moment before her slender fingers reached forward to unlace his breeches. Samira watched on in terrified anguish as the pale-skinned woman extracted Fazil's stiff member from beneath his robes and engulfed its length deep into her mouth with an ecstatic moan. Her blonde hair bounced as she bobbed up and down over his lap while Fazil's gaze remained solely on Samira, still lounging casually in his chair.

"Soon, you'll be just like Ellara here Princess," he smirked as Samira watched the blonde reach around behind her back to unhook her skimpy silk bra, allowing her bouncing pale globes to fall free, her free hand lovingly cradling Fazil's balls.

"Ymm fmrthy mrrsm," Samira tried to snap back, disgusted at the notion she would ever lower herself to such a degrading act.

"I bet your mouth will feel even better though," he grinned as she fumed at him. "But all in good time. Ladies," he called to his throng of kneeling beauties. "You may begin."

"Nmmph, stmp! Wmmt urrm dmmphng!" Samira stammered into her gag as the girls drew closer. The one at the front stopped as she knelt between Samira's spread legs. The girl looked up at her for a moment, her deep brown eyes full of lust and mischief as the Princess frantically shook her head. The girl leant forwards, her ruby lips inching closer and closer as Samira watched wide eyed and protesting furiously until she felt the tender warmth of her kiss between her legs. The girl worked slowly, her well-practised mouth becoming more and more insistent as she gradually began to lick in earnest at Samira's most intimate of spots.

She felt hands creep from behind her around her torso, the deft fingers relieving her of her bells and massaging her breasts. She faltered slightly in her muffled protest but quickly resumed.

Lips were on her neck now, making her hair stand on end as they lovingly brushed her skin. She squeaked in surprise as a silk blindfold was pulled over her eyes and suddenly she was lost in darkness, keenly aware of every sensation as the skilful throng of beauties steered her towards her unwilling climax. Her protests came fewer and further between until she gave up on them entirely.

She found herself beginning to blush as time wore on, her breathing coming heavier. She could feel the simmering tension growing within her and knew she was headed for towards her climax whether she willed it or not.

She groaned desperately as it drew nearer, the shame more than she could bear. She focused everything she had into suppressing the urge but the relentless torment continued until she knew she could resist no longer.

But just as she was about to slide over the edge, everything stopped.

"Only the girls who please me may have their release Samira," she heard Fazil call. The Prince was revelling in the spectacle, his cock now sandwiched between Ellara's magnificent pale orbs, her lips still around its head which poked proudly up from between the jostling flesh.

Samira moaned in anguished humiliation. Having finally succumbed the carnal, animal need for release she would be denied even the privilege of humiliating herself before him. For what felt like hours the torture continued, she must've been brought to the boiling edge a dozen times before Fazil finally told them to stop. Every inch of her skin tingled as if she had pins and needles, hypersensitive to every touch. Her womanhood was soaked and her clit swollen with frustrated desire as she hung listlessly in her bonds, head bowed low. She had nothing left after hours of teasing, she didn't even hear Fazil approach before his finger slid under her chin, lifting her head as the other hand removed her blindfold.