tagBDSMTemple House Pt. 01

Temple House Pt. 01

byDrCross©

While she lays, face down, in what they call "resting ready position," she has a lot of time to think. Between periodic check-ins and 2 or 3 daily appointments there isn't a lot going on around her most days. In a certain way, her comforts have been well attended to. Her neck rests on a comfortable pillow and she can look forward or to either side and view television at all angles. She has a remote that controls the temperature in the room, the channel on the TVs and calls for a snack if she gets hungry between meals. She has one of those book readers which rests below her face that she can view through a hole in the bed - much like those in a massage table. So, she can read if she'd like, she can watch TV, listen to music, snack...every modern comfort, except of course, moving anything other than her arms, head and toes. Naturally there are times during the day that she is released; meals for example, for her workouts (gotta stay fit) and to shower. She doesn't sleep in this position except on rare occasions. But those activates only take up 11.5 hours of each day leaving the other 12.5 to be in this position. She knows-she's counted the minutes...many times.

At first she tried to press the call button repeatedly, hoping they would get tired of it and tell her to get out. She'd be happy to leave. But every time she called, they came patiently and she got tired of it before they did. They have a whole staff, she is just one girl.

Books, music, movies and television keep her fairly entertained. She tries to stay lost in media to avoid thinking, but it always comes back to the same conversation in her head. How did she get here? She replays the last 18 months over and over. At this point she knows all the moments where she went wrong.

The very first mistake was flirting with a handsome older man at a bar in Vienna. She was on a graduation trip with a couple girl friends, roaming around Europe and enjoying their freedom before they returned home to look for jobs and start on "real life." He was what they always talk about - tall dark and handsome. He was impeccably groomed and his clothes were obviously expensive - tailored perfectly. She guessed he was probably about 8 years her senior, which only made him 'old' in relation to her. He wasn't even thirty. She had been drunk, as were her friends and she thought it would be fun to get into a little trouble with a brooding stranger. A night of flirting turned into a few wonderful days of getting to know each other. They talked about their families - she told him everything. He was a good listener. They saw the sights and he acted as her tour guide, he knew so much about history and architecture. And when it was time for her and her friends to move on to the next city on their itinerary, she asked him to come along. He spoke multiple languages, had endless funds and plenty of leisure time, so he accepted. It was a passionate whirlwind of a romance that seemed perfect in every way. In her hours and hours of reflecting she wished she'd noticed a few details. He ordered for her at every meal. It seemed sweet and chivalrous at the time, especially when the menu was in a language she did not know. But he ordered for her even when she could read the menu. In fact, he did all the talking for the two of them. He always set their pace and walked just a step ahead of her, even though they held hands. He was rough in bed, which she took as passion, but in reflection should have caused hesitation.

When her friends went home she stayed with him and he revealed himself to be a prince. A real life prince of a small country that sounded familiar, but she knew nothing about. He showed her on a map she read about him and his "kingdom" online. She wished she had read more. It was a small, wealthy, independent country. Not part of any union, a patriarchy that defined its own laws and was very prosperous. After only a month, he asked her to come home with him and be his bride, his princess. She was so enamored with the idea. Back then she was too focused on those kinds of things - status, money, fame. One of the girl friends she had been traveling with was engaged to the quarterback of their college team and was expected to be drafted to the NFL. She had been so jealous; it had been hard to hide. She couldn't wait to gloat to her friends about her upcoming nuptials and new, royal status. His home was beautiful and enormous. There were whole wings that she did see until after the wedding.

His father had passed away years ago, which left him room to become King, which would make her a Queen one day. The thought made her giddy. He had a couple cousins that lived in part of the house, but no siblings. She met his mother, she was regal and reserved. The Queen had a slight limp - when asked he said "I was a large baby" and winked. She should have asked more about that, it should have seemed odd to her, but she didn't notice at the time - they were late to her dress fitting. He had it made for her and he directed the tailor as to exactly how it should look and fit. There were warning signs everywhere. She joked about it being bad luck for him to see her in her wedding gown and he said "luck has no place in royal marriages." It was an odd thing to say. She still doesn't know what he meant exactly. She had been uncomfortable, but not completely surprised when she was required to have a full medical exam before the ceremony. She was a little shocked by how thorough they were. More so than any exam she'd had in her life - every part of her was poked, prodded and measured. But the doctor was gentle and respectful and it made sense that they needed to make sure she was healthy and able to conceive an heir. Though she wasn't sure how the circumference of her thighs really affected that, she signed all the papers placed in front of her - all too wordy to read. She saw the words "Princess" and "Queen" and "male heir," and she signed, signed, signed.

The wedding was spectacular. Her friends and family attended and she reveled in the jealousy she saw in their eyes. She hadn't been close with her parents since she was a child, but she enjoyed spending time with them when it was focused on showing off her new home and all the pretty things they told her she would have to work hard for growing up. She had been convinced that her good looks would be all she needed to get everything she wanted and she felt vindicated - in only 8 weeks she had gone from backpacking through Europe staying in hostels to being a Princess moving into a castle. So when she inquired to a server about the three silent women in the second table of her lavish reception and was told "those are the princes other wives," like it was nothing at all, she kept her game face on. She couldn't let anyone know that her new life was anything other than perfect. After the reception she was whisked away to their honeymoon and her family and friends went home. Ironically, given her current state, during their honeymoon she barely had a moment to think as they traveled all over his country attending balls and ribbon cutting ceremonies and being introduced to the most powerful and wealthy of his countrymen.

She was assigned a handmaid to assist her in any and all tasks. At first it was odd having a servant at her beck and call, but she quickly adapted to having someone else do everything for her. She barely noticed the transition from having her hair done for her, to the cut and style chosen for her, to it being washed and finally to her being washed and clothed without any effort or input from her.

Their lovemaking was passionate and intense. He had mentioned wanting children as soon as possible and she was delighted at the idea. She had taken the birth control pill for years and thought about stopping since she heard it took awhile to be able to get pregnant after having been on it for so long. He was unconcerned with her pill though and said there would be plenty of time during the "celebration cycle" to think of such things. Why had she not asked more questions when he said things like that? Even after replaying those conversations in her mind day after day, she still didn't have a solid explanation. The honeymoon lasted for a whole month and it was incredible. When they arrived home he gave her a tour of a wing of his house that she hadn't seen before. He called it their "celebration home" and said that they would live there for the next three months. It was six rooms; living room, dining room, kitchen (though their food all came prepared from the main area of the house), 2 bedrooms and a huge bathroom. He gave her free rein to decorate it however she saw fit and she took all the liberties he allowed. She asked about decorating their permanent home and he said they would cross that bridge when they came to it. He should have said "if" - that would have been more accurate. But she was happy in her task and pleased that she hadn't seen his other wives since the wedding. She made the assumption that she had replaced them.

He told her he needed to return to his royal duties and he started being away from home most of the day. She had plenty to keep her busy though and loved when he came home at the end of the day to have supper, cuddle and make love. Her birth control pills went missing and he said they were no longer needed. She saw that as a romantic gesture, but shouldn't have. They made love every night, in every position you can imagine. Many she'd never tried before or even thought of, but he was so confident, she did whatever he asked. Weeks went by and life was wonderful. The first huge change came when she got her period for the first time since they'd met. Up until then the pill had prevented her from having one for years. She had forgotten the cramps and bloating and when he came home that evening she shared her woes with him. She expected sympathy and got anger instead. He had expected her to be pregnant, with all the relations they had been having. He was shocked and dismayed. He left without dinner and she didn't see him for several days. She wasn't sure what to make of it and asked the one person around her that spoke her language - her handmaid, who she referred to as Minnie because she couldn't pronounce her real name. Minnie said that he is getting on in age and feeling the pressure to father an heir to his throne. That seemed reasonable and she tried to brush it off. He ate dinner with her for the days following, but didn't stay for cuddles and love making. Each day he asked if her "monthly friend" had left. After a week it had and she was excited to tell him. He seemed pleased, but still didn't stay that evening. In the morning she was summoned to the medical wing of the house, which she wasn't aware existed until then; her initial exams had been done at a hospital a few miles away.

When she arrived the nurse who greeted her went through all the standard procedures she was used to from back home; height, weight, blood pressure etc. She was led to a small exam room and given a hospital gown. Well, it was the same shape as a hospital gown, but was made of fine material and was more modest, which she appreciated. It went down just past her knees and she had to step into it because the bottom half was secured with snaps down the back while the top half secured in the front. The nurse waved her to the exam table and then left, closing the door on her way out. It took a moment for the princess to figure out how to get on the exam table. It was fairly standard, positioned in the middle of the room with a doctor's stool at one end. Except on the end where the stool sat it had what looked like 2 long padded shelves jutting out about 18 inches below the top of the table - one on the left and one on the right. It almost looked like a padded forklift. They were way too high to use as steps so she settled on using them for leverage to hop up onto the table and then scoot around to sit on the long edge facing the door. She waited nervously, not sure what to expect.

End Part One

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