Little Fur-Skin

He had always given her as much as she would accept, and that had grown more and more.

"I'm here, Fur-Skin, I'm here," he stressed. To rid her of her secret pains. To allow herself back into the world.

"My- father-!" the distraught woman sobbed, fear and sadness stopping her throat. Dastran gathered her close; she threw herself upon his chest. "My father..."

"It's alright, Fur-Skin. You are safe. He's not here. He can't get you now." He kept his voice hushed, rhythmic, calm.

"He- he touched me," she wept, winding down, giving in, finding solace in arms that welcomed, not demanded. "He held me and touched me... Rubbing- using- staining me!" Her words surged in gasps of horror, but she was fighting through the secret, fighting through her terror, because she was safe. She was home. She was loved. "He made me... he made me..."

"It's not your fault, Fur-Skin, it's not your fault," he chanted, stroking her unbound hair. In the darkness, she shed her disguise. No leather, no fur, just her given form. He cherished her as he held her close, breathing her scent, touching her warmth. He could smell her woman's dew, rich and fragrant. It made his blood heat, but he would not act upon it.

"He held me close to his body, grabbing me from behind, and he rubbed me with his fingers. He ground himself against me and rubbed me, and made me..." She shuddered, remembering the explosion of exquisite pleasure that claimed her loins, and could not find the word for that feeling. So wrong, but so incredible.

The king gasped, understanding at once.

"Did he make your body come, Fur-Skin? Did he give you pleasure in a moment you knew was wrong?" Trembling, tears forming once more, she nodded against his chest. Dastran sighed and drew her up his body. Though she knew he was not going to hurt her, she could not help but feel his arousal as he did so. Shifting both of them, the king sat in the midst of her bed and held her in his lap, gingerly placing her away from his rather impertinent erection. "I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured her, covering himself with a blanket. She shifted closer, unafraid. "My body reacts to you in ways I cannot control, much as yours did when your father betrayed you like that, pet." Dastran lifted her chin with his fingers. He couldn't see her in the dark, but he wanted her to know he was right there, staring where he knew her to be, as he heard her deepest woes. "It was not your fault. What he made you feel is not wrong, Fur-Skin, it was merely wrong that he was doing it. You did not wish him to touch you, did you? You did not invite him or ask him to spend his lust on you. It was against your will. It was his sin to bear, and here with me, he cannot hurt you anymore."

"I fear he will come for me," she confessed miserably. Dastran chuckled.

"He does not know where you are," the young king told her. "I will not lie and say he is not looking, but he has no clues. Someone did a rather good job of disappearing." She gave a small grin at his smug pride for her, and it warmed her. Everywhere. "As to the princess Otivia, I don't know where she is, either," Dastran continued, showing his loyalties with mischief in his voice. "You are Fur-Skin. And Fur-Skin, my pet, is free." She gasped, and suddenly smiled, unseen. Dastran knew what she most needed, and a rich burble of laughter rose up from her belly. She dried her tears, and held onto the sweet, clever man in her bed, and placed her hand on his chest.

"I am free," she whispered dulcetly. There was no more need to hide. In the face of her terror, Dastran had proved himself most valiant. "I think the Princess Otivia will reappear when she wishes, but I am Fur-Skin. And I would greatly like you to help me, Dastran." The man felt the liquid in his veins turn to honey.

"Anything you need," he rasped. She purred.

"I want you to be the one to make me feel pleasure," the wayward princess told him. "I want you to hold me, and touch me and... Make me explode while you grind yourself against me, or..." she swallowed. "Thrust inside me."

"Oh pet," he groaned. "I want to give you everything. And more. I want to make you beg and scream while I fill you with rapture."

"Hold me," she cried. "Touch me, take me." Her hands pawed his naked body. "Replace him for me, darling Dastran. I want you to claim me."

"Oh sweet," he moaned, "it would be my honor. And a very great pleasure."

There in the dark, he came to his knees, and pulled her up with him. Pressing skin to skin, he took the woman to his breast and found her mouth. As their lips met, she parted for him, welcoming his tongue as she had not welcomed her father's. Dastran's kiss was a slow, thorough devouring, not a rough conquering, and his scent reminded her even in the utter blackness who he was. She reached to bury her fingers in his hair, as she had long itched to do, and he laughed against her mouth.

The kiss went on, becoming more fervent moment to moment as he raked his own fingers through her tresses. Not having the benefit of sight gave him so much tactile sensation; her hair felt like pure silk, and her body velvet. Heat seeped from her core, scorching the jut of his cock as it neared her seeping quim. Before they could join themselves, though, he had to provide her with something even more exquisite than a stolen orgasm. Dastran's mouth moved from lips to chin, then cheek, and down onto neck and shoulder. He ran the very tip of his tongue along the sensitive curve there, inspiring a tremulous warble to flee her lips. The trace of his warm, wet mouth lingered for a moment, then moved again south, and his touch slid from her back to her bosom. Taking the lovely soft mounds in his hands, he dragged his tongue to one tight peak and then the other, suckling, laving. The woman moaned aloud, her hips bucking into his, seeking satisfaction as she brought her soaking, greedy sheath to his shaft.

His cock remained nestled there, between her thighs, as he tormented her breasts, bringing forth more of her juices.

"Oh Dastran, touch me there, please!" She begged, rubbing herself against him so delightfully.

"I will, pet, if you touch me, too. Let us explore together." She moaned again, and her hand sank below to find his stiffness as he found her wetness. His sentiment felt so right; they were doing these things together. Both had chosen the other, and their consummation was fast becoming the most beautiful moment of their time together.

Fur-Skin fell upon Dastran's chest as he began stroking at her silky, slippery vulva, lightly at first. He petted the lips that hid her willing entrance and aching bud, and only split them with his fingers when she began grinding herself against him. She took hold of his warm cock, taking awe in how hard and yet satin it was in her palm. He'd become slathered with her juices from settling between her thighs, and she soon found a rhythm up and down on the length that dragged harsh grunts from his throat.

"Oh Fur-Skin," he hissed, sucking in breath as she gripped him. "That feels wonderful." The heel of his palm was catching her sensitive clitoris as he delved his fingers inside her channel. "You're so wet for me, darling. Does it feel good when I rub you like this?"

"Yes! Yes!" She gasped, electricity shooting up her spine. "It's so much better than-!" The princess refused to let her father's transgressions spoil her time with her chosen lover. Dastran was touching her in a different way, with her permission and her reciprocation, and the intensity of the feeling was heightened. The passion between them was mutual, and knowing that he desired her for who she was sent fire down every nerve. Already the pleasure in his hands was a thousand times more exquisite than what her father had forced upon her. "Oh, Dastran!"

"Yes my darling, come for me," he demanded, voice dark and sensual and perfect. "I will give you ecstasy, over and over again. Your pleasure is mine, and I will bring you to the stars many, many times while we're together. My darling Fur-Skin, my dearest pet- I love you."

The princess screamed, her climax breaking as he stroked and she rode. Her body fractured and turned to pure energy, pulsing with divine joy while she came for him. Dastran enjoyed the tight flutterings of her cunt upon his fingers, and he moaned for the flood that poured into his palm. She was ready for him. So ready.

"Oh, D-Dastran," she choked in the throes of orgasm, "I love you so much, my sweet king. So much." With those words, his heart melted, forever lost to her.

"Oh, love," he rasped. "You've made me so happy, since the day you came into my life."

The last of her orgasm died, and Dastran pulled her fingers away from his shaft. Fur-Skin wanted, needed him inside her, to have what no one else deserved, what no one else would ever take.

"Make me yours, Dastran," she breathed. The pleading note in her voice made him harder and hotter than he had been.

"I will," he promised, and took her by the hips. Eager, his very soul humming with the beauty of her want. The princess spread her thighs, and followed his physical cues in the dark. One arm held her back and cradled her head while the other caught her beneath her buttocks. As he took her down to the furs, falling expertly onto his knees, she split her legs around him. Dastran felt her calves hook around his hips and draw him closer. "You're wet and aroused for me, Fur-Skin, but tell me you want me. Tell me this is everything you need, right now, and I will give it to you, my love, please!" His words were ragged, his body poised on the brink of merging with hers.

"Yes, my king! You are all that I will ever need again." She pressed her kiss to his mouth after her plea, and he moaned as his tongue claimed her mouth, his cock guided into her snug, wet depths by her hand.

Fur-Skin cried out into their lip-lock as he plunged to the back of her channel. Dastran clutched into her hair, kissing furiously, allowing her to grow comfortable with his size before he began to thrust. The woman ground her hips against his, desperately needing more. Dastran withdrew from her snug pussy, shuddering with the delight she gave, and slowly drove back in. Fur-Skin squealed while sucking his tongue. Again he drew back, and again he slid home. Faster. Harder. His pace increased until the two of them were thrashing together in the cramped space, uncaring of anything but each other. Dastran let his inner wildness come out to play. Fur-Skin showed her passionate inhibition with a lover she chose and man she loved.

Their hands roved everywhere, and they never stopped kissing, not for a moment while their bodies writhed in tandem.

Before Dastran spent himself inside her feminine core, he guided a hand between them and urged her to stroke the tender spot that would bring her to another peak while he filled her. He wanted all her lush contractions and tight muscles to devour his shaft as he released his seed.

Fur-Skin claimed her pleasure as he ruthlessly possessed her sweet cunt, and when her explosion rebuilt then burst in her sheath, she heard him shout, their kiss finally breaking. Dastran proclaimed his release to the night and the darkness, the molten fire shooting from his ballocks and into her fluttering channel.

They gyrated softer and slower until their first bout of lovemaking was completed, and they lay together damp and heaving for breath. Dastran eventually rolled back to come down over her and kiss her ferociously again. He led her from the closet and brought her to his bed, where they came together again, joining themselves in coital rapture, thrusting, riding, loving, fucking, until they woke entangled in the light of day.

The king greeted his lover with a kiss, and she was splendid. Beautiful, her golden mane tangled from their bed-play.

"There you are, my darling," he said, caressing her body. "I already knew how breathtaking you are, but seeing you well-loved is an immense treat."

Fur-Skin giggled.

"I could say the same, my king," she whispered back, before snuggling in and finding his morning's hardness with her hand. His breath hitched.

"Again, pet?" He seethed as she bent to lick his sensitive flesh. "What an appetite you have." She hummed on him as she enclosed him with her mouth. Dastran let her suckle until he felt as though he would burst, and broke free to prevent her from spilling his seed so soon. "Not yet, vixen," he pretended to scold her. "I must bring you to climax first." Eyeing his treasure, he licked his lips. Oh, how he wanted to taste her slick honey! The woman squealed as he dove, parting her thighs and falling to her heated center with his mouth. She moaned as he first blew warm, moist air upon her clitoris, and then besieged it with his lips and tongue, driving her wild with sharp flicks across the sensitive organ.

"Dastran!" She gasped, knowing what she wanted, and as lovely as it would be to climax from his mouth, her desire had to be fulfilled. "That feels utterly exquisite, my love, but come up to me. I need you to claim me another way!" The king suckled her again until she cried roughly, but soon came upward, leaving her panting.

"How is that, pet?" He asked with a roguish grin.

"Come behind me, Dastran," she told him gravely. "Seize me from behind, pressing yourself against me, and stroke my bud until I come. Grind yourself into my arse and spend yourself on me or in me- but you must do it from behind." The urgent need in her words told him that this act was to reclaim what her father had taken. Immediately he grew serious.

"What else, my love? How else can I make this complete for you?" She rolled to her side, and he pressed against her. The princess remembered everything so precisely.

"Lick and bite my neck," she said, urging the memories to the surface. They made her gut clench with sickness, but if she could overwrite those unwelcome sensations with him, with Dastran, she could think of him first. "Grab my breasts- torment my nipples. Use me roughly Dastran, please."

"As you wish, pet," he answered with a slight growl.

He did exactly as she asked. His cock was hard, longing for her cunt. His mouth kissed, licked and bit her neck and her shoulder. One hand rubbed at the tender spot between her legs, and the other groped her globes, teasing her nipples with pinches. He ground himself into her buttocks, her wetness eventually seeping between the cleft, making him slick, and he drove himself between her thighs, dragging his sensitive length back and forth across her opening. The princess threw herself back into the night when the dresses and the cloak were spread before her, and she reclaimed her body, reclaimed her orgasm, from the fingers of a madman. She felt and heard her father in her mind, felt herself beginning to splinter for him, and at the moment of orgasm she broke apart, calling out:

"Dastran! Dastran, my love, I'm coming!"

When he heard those words, he roared his triumph and shifted his hips so he was angled to take, and he slammed himself into the rippling warmth of her channel. Fur-Skin screamed, climax heightened, and he fucked her savagely until his semen burst into her slick body, bubbling out to stain her pussy and round arse.

They lay together like that for a long while, holding each other and spent.

Finally, Dastran dropped a kiss on her shoulder and said:

"My precious love, I was thinking... Should the Princess Otivia wish to return to the world, I have the perfect idea to draw her out." Fur-Skin rolled to face her king.

"Oh do you?" She purred. "Tell me."

It was not long after the lovers first united that Dastran's kingdom announced that it would hold a great ball, to which all the neighboring royals and nobles were invited, for the sake of peace. It promised to be a sumptuous event, three days long, and even the mad king received an invitation.

The father of missing Princess Otivia had fallen quite low in her absence. The people of his land suffered greatly with grief for their princess, but more so because their king had ceased to care for either people or land. Conflicts went unresolved, and turned to violence. Trade with other kingdoms had stopped, leading to famines or gluts of various goods, some of which would not keep, and would lay in rot. The soldiers visited every village at the madman's orders and scouted young, fit men, to press them into military service should the country fall to war. Families were broken, bellies went hungry. Fear and aggression had claimed the hearts and minds of many in the shadow of the king's obsession.

Many of the servants had deserted the castle, where they were being paid only in curses and abuse. This meant they went home to their families, and began to talk. They whispered in terror that the king was so enraged because Otivia- darling, sweet Otivia- had refused to wed him. The princess was gone for refusing to wed her father! They all knew she wasn't stolen, but terrified, and had escaped her fate.

In the midst of this turmoil, the invitations to Dastran's fête had come.

At first, the mad king snarled at it. Just another one of his enemies flaunting himself like a peacock. He cast the missive aside and forgot about it until a few of his nobles accepted, intending to plead Dastran for aid for their failing land. Still, the man sulked, wanting nothing to do with peace or parties, not since his daughter went missing. Plans for war moved on in the shadows, and he was left alone in the gloom.

The ball started in Dastran's kingdom mere weeks later, and the young, gallant king smiled as his castle filled with distinguished guests from everywhere. There was music, dancing, mirth and such refreshments! All overseen and prepared with the greatest care. Dastran himself flitted from guest to guest, speaking of peace and unity, encouraging others to enjoy themselves, and all was going well.

In the kitchen, Fur-Skin begged the cook to see the dancing and the fine lords and ladies, only for a while, and eventually the cook relented.

"You may go, but return here in one hour and not a moment sooner, or you shall get nothing to eat!" The cook, yet unaware of where Fur-Skin spent her nights or who she was besides a furry creature of unknown origin, carried on with his work providing the party fare. The woman ran off to ready herself.

In the privacy of Dastran's chambers, she cast off her dun disguise and washed the ash and grime from her hands. She unbound her hair and brushed it, so it shone. Out of her pack at last came the dress that was as bright and gold as the sun, wrought of delicate silk and matching her hair exactly. She put it on and descended a hidden stair that led her directly to a corridor attached to the main hall. When she arrived from nowhere in her finery, every inch again the princess she was born, the guests parted in wonder and let her through.

"She must be a king's daughter!" Many whispers declared.

"Otivia!" The few familiar courtiers and nobles gasped. "Our princess has come to the ball!"

While everyone was goggling at the arrival of the beauty who had been missing for months now, Dastran smiled to himself. When he 'first' caught sight of the beautiful woman his Fur-Skin really was, he rose as though enchanted, and approached the golden vision.

"May I have this dance?" He asked, the very picture of a love-struck lad, holding out his hand.

"With pleasure, your Highness," she replied, accepting. The couple joined, and swept across the ballroom in a romantic waltz that left the room sighing with joy. The music swelled, and the two danced, heeding nothing but each other.