The Captured Princess Ch. 05

"There's no such thing as too much power, Alani. I'm male. I have a Y chromosome. Birth gives me authority and wealth. Technology and a certain low cunning gives me control over women. The Y chromosome gives me the desire to dominate. You are in the middle of a perfect storm of masculine desire; I am what all men would be if they dared. In forcing you to feel what I want you to feel, I am fully alive, fully myself. And in you there is something that responds to that. You can blame that wild sexual response you just had on hypnosis and deprivation... if you want. I know better. Women inwardly crave the bad men, the men who act with ice cold certainty and unanswerable strength. They love the ones that push morality aside like the feeble myth of the priests that it is. You might be too inexperienced to understand what I'm talking about... but it is the way women are inside. I'll show you."

His hand settled between my legs, and a fingertip pressed against my bud and curled slowly into my slit. "Look me in the eyes. Eyes wide open; do not look away."

I raised my eyes to his, part helpless obedience, part bravado. His hand was warming, but I'd just flowered and I didn't think I would again.

"You have no choice. You will come, because I require that."

I said nothing, but suddenly I needed to look away, very badly. He was too handsome, too evil, too intimidating. I swallowed and then my eyes shifted.

"Look at me," he snapped in a deep, angry voice. I shivered, and my eyes moved back to his, and stayed there. I couldn't look away. Fear, Cruelty, Authority, Power...

His finger continued to violate me, and he smiled, slowly.

Suddenly I moaned. Immediately he pushed another finger in, and I squeezed down.

"I'm not a slut," I whispered, panting. "I'm not."

"Kiss me," he said. It was not a request.

"No," I whispered. "Don't... don't."

"Kiss me."

Warmth, everywhere. His lips were inviting, his eyes were terrifying. I shuddered, my legs opening wider, instead of closing as I bid them to.

"You will kiss me. Now."

Terror filled me for being disobedient. My lips parted, and I wet them. His lips drew closer. I couldn't turn my head, it would have meant looking away from those deep, demanding, merciless eyes.

He brushed my lips against mine, drew back, brushed them again...

I kissed him, open mouthed and helplessly. Our tongues danced, and my belly tightened, over, and over, and over. His teeth caught my lip, and bit down.

I came, moaning, around his fingers. Instantly he moved his lips to my nipple, and bit down again gently, and the orgasm redoubled, hard, so hard, so impossibly intense...

I shuddered to a stop, and then sobbed and rolled away from him. But he only put his arm around my waist and pulled me back against him, my ass against his cock.

"How quickly the addiction sets in," he said, softly.

++

Lord Tir settled in his room; and having premonitions about things, he was alone this evening. He rubbed a sore set of muscles, and settled into the leather hammock, frowning a little.

A display of data formed on a floating panel of glassee next to him. He quickly poked through news about the war, weather, crop failures, and events at Haracrab Wall. Restlessly, he got up, stripped, stretched out hard, and wiped down with a bowl and washcloth. He caught a glance of himself in a polished copper mirror, and frowned at the trace of grey in his hair.

Back to the hammock. He tapped at the glassee, and a carafe and glass rose up through the table next to him. He poured out a half glass of faintly glowing wine.

Bells chimed quietly. He smiled suddenly, tapped again, and a second glass was delivered.

A few moments later, a secret door in the wall of the room eased open, and Enjine stepped out.

She closed the door carefully behind her, threw her hair back, and reached for the knot at her shoulder. The soft silk slid away.

She knelt in a puddle of her clothing. "My Lord."

"Come."

"Oh! Foreplay first, Lord."

"Oh. Yes, you do always insist on that." He chuckled, looking at her. "Humor aside, get over here, Enjine."

She walked over, swaying softly, and stepped over the low hammock. Gracefully she lowered herself onto his legs, leaned forward, and massaged his chest. He looked her over, carefully.

"You seem to have gotten through the tube pretty well."

She shuddered. "It took three days to get over the nightmares. I thank you for your note. This really is the first night I've felt up to climbing those stairs."

"And yet, you look flawless."

"It will be a cold day in Sitala before I come to you looking less than beautiful." Her hands drifted down over his abdomen, and then lower still. "I've missed you, my Lord."

He took her wrist and moved her hand away from his already stiffening cock. "Business first, slutling."

She eyed his cock, and licked her lips. "If you insist. I've really, really missed what that does to me..."

"You won't miss it much longer. But I have the data, and I want some answers."

He tapped the glassee, and it turned to face Enjine. Stretching, he poured her a glass of wine, and presented it. She took it automatically, already lost in swirls of data.

"I'm sure you know enough to know this isn't good," she said, softly, face and breasts glowing in the soft light of the screen.

"It was never expected to be good. But how bad?"

Her fingers flicked aside numbers, waved through graphs and images. She shook her head. "It's complicated. She's not doing well, but she's doing better than she has a right to. But fucking stars -- sorry, my Lord -- Fractured skies, he's hitting her so hard. This goes well beyond a desire to dominate, this is hate."

"But she's fighting?"

"On several levels. But she's cracking at the seams in other places. Her sexual inexperience leaves her so very vulnerable. Of course she won't be inexperienced much longer at this rate, but -- what is that expression you military men use? 'Damage done?""

"Summarize, Enjine. Is she going to make it?"

She sipped, and flicked through the data again. And sighed.

"No, I don't think so. Please don't blame me, Lord. I did what I could to blunt the assault -- you know I did -- but all it got me was time in a tube when she needed me most."

"She mustn't fail."

"I know what's at stake. I was there for the prophecies. But the time she spent in the white room tears it. The Tormenters have done their job quite well. And the Prince knows his game." She gestured at the screen. "Terror and Sexuality - breaking women into little pieces since before the dawn of recorded history."

"In the dawn of history they didn't have emotive scanners, brain chemistry enhancers and neurostim."

"And women still broke. But it's a refined science now. Psychological manipulation was already well understood at the turn of the millennia. Then came the Marie Incident, and the Quantum Interface discoveries... mankind knows too much, Lord. As long as you have Tormenters and their knowledge in the world, no secret and no personality is safe. And especially no woman."

"I thought slaves didn't debate politics?"

"I'm not debating. You know I'm right."

"I won't argue it. But this is the world we are in. You're convinced the data says she fails?"

"Lord, everything I know about this I learned from the Prince. It amused him to show me the basics of Mental Analysis. I learned much more than he imagines -- and much less than we need. All I can tell you is, he's cutting away at what she needs to stay self-willed. It's never a question of whether the victim can resist. In the end they cannot. It's a question of how much force is brought to bear and for how long, how fast. He's never been this brutal, and he's going fast. She'll give in -- and at this speed, she'll be damaged. She'll never oppose him. The plan fails."

"You aren't heartbroken."

"I was always more fond of plan B anyway. Plan A would have gotten her killed."

"Plan B could get all of us killed."

"But there are no innocent pawns in it. We risk death fairly."

"Fairness is weakness. It's an unfair world, slave."

"Then in our death we'll impart a lesson about fair and unfair that the world badly needs."

"Hm. Aren't slaves supposed to be pragmatists, not idealists?"

In reply she licked her palm and thumb, and wrapped her hand around his raging erection. Slowly and lightly, she stroked him.

"I can be very pragmatic. I haven't been used in several days, Lord. I want you to rape me."

"It is... hard to call this rape."

"Oh, it is, my Lord. I am conditioned to come for no man but the Prince. But you always -- always -- hammer me with this beast you call a cock until the orgasm is forced from me. Is that that why you never gag me? To enjoy how I plead with you to stop? I can never consent to come -- which makes it all the sweeter for you when you make it happen anyway, and it makes my pleasure all the more... violent..."

She downed the drink and set the glass aside, and her free hand went under his balls. The two handed massage quickly got him panting. She leaned forward and brushed her nipples against his lips.

"Rape me," she whispered. "Rape me, hurt me, force me, use me... you know I'm truly a slut and cannot resist. Force my legs apart and slap me if I say no. You know what that does to me. Watch now as I press my hand against my slit, see how wet it comes away? Now I rub that into you shaft... you know, I'm going to enjoy it when you take her. You know this about me, about my fascination with other women being made to feel pleasure... but you'll finally get to experience it. My moans against your ear as you pound her, my breasts against your lips, your hand in my hair, the other hand in hers. Oh, Lord, you should not touch me back, I'm owned, but you know about my breasts, don't you. Fingertips and nipples, why does it make a woman so weak to resist? And every man knows it. The Prince likes to force me to watch what his hand does there, and that does make it maddeningly intense -- oh, you don't like hearing about the Prince and I? I am property, Lord, and you are naught but a thief, stealing what's not yours. Bad, wicked, immoral thief, taking.. . oh Lord, taking..."

He suddenly forced her to the floor, spilling them both from the low hammock. She gasped in pain, which melted into a moan. Kneeling over her, he forced her legs apart, and pushed his cock into her, but only partway.

Her moan turned to fear, and she tried to crawl away from him, but his hands caught her wrists and forced them to the floor. Trapped, she writhed and whimpered. "No... bad... don't make me want what I should not have-"

He rocked, slowly, mercilessly, not pushing deeper, not letting her slip away. She sobbed, softly. "Just let me please you... hands, mouth... not this. Not that impossible, thick- please! When you move it like that, my clit feels-"

His hands found her hair and breast, and he slammed her against the floor again, pounding in with his cock. Her shuddering legs wrapped around him, caressing helplessly.

"You're right, Enjine. I'll fuck you and just keep fucking. All this sinew and muscle, pounding you open, wider and wider, and you can't make it stop... fuck toys love to come for ruthless men. The orgasm is how we know you're beaten-"

"No. Stop?" she whispered, in a voice that flowed uncertainty, like warm, sticky honey. "Please-"

He slapped her face, and she sobbed, hips moving for him now, back arched... "Can't come... can't... please, don't, stop, I already want... please Lord Tir! Please!"

Suddenly he got off of her and pulled her mouth to his cock. "Taste yourself. Lick it, Enjine. Suck me and masturbate. I love the way your lips look around my cock. You were well trained for this, possibly the smartest thing Arj ever did -- faster on your clit, slut. Harder. I know you burn and you don't get to hold back-"

He head fell back and she sobbed. "Please! Not supposed to come, please, I'm in flames, have mercy!"

He forced fingers into her and curled them roughly, over and over. "Keep sucking!"

She tried, frantically, to get him to come in her mouth, and his body turned hard as testament to the way she used her tongue. Then he was thrusting deep, making her gag.

Then he pulled out, dragged her to her feet and marched her towards the wall.

Bolted to the floor, a few feet apart, a few feet out and two feet high, were two rough-cut wooden blocks. The tops were worn from years of use, and sticky with a resin. Enjine knew them very well. She whimpered as he put her back against the cold stone wall, and she stepped up onto the blocks, forcing her hips to tilt upwards invitingly with her legs spread wide. He pushed her wrists into the waiting manacles, just over her head. They clicked closed, and she shuddered.

Her eyes went down and stayed down. His hands spent a few ruthless minutes on her nipples and clit, and then he kissed her, slowly and sensually. When the tears started, he pushed into her and took, savagely.

"Don't come," he snarled, panting. "Don't come. Don't come. Don't come." His thumbs worked her nipples, and her tears fell faster.

"I- I won't," she sobbed in a little girl voice. "I'll be g-good... I'll try- oh darkness, I want- I want-"

But her body arched and her stomach tensed, and her eyes widened to impossibly dark pools as she looked down at her own tormented, desperate flesh.

"No. You'll be bad. Come. Come, slut. Come for my cock, it pleases me-"

"No! No, skies, gods, stars, I c-can't think, I mus- don't- Pl-"

He fucked her faster, and twisted her nipples suddenly, then slapped her face. Her body went wild, milking him, coming violently, and as she cried out he came into her, grunting and panting.

When he was done with her, he freed her and carried her to his bed. He made her lick him clean, and then fingered her to another orgasm, holding her head against his chest and making her look up at him. When he was tired of making her come, he let her sprawl against him.

Her eyes fluttered closed. "L-Lord T-Tir..."

"Yes?"

She shivered. "I don't know. I don't have words for what you do to me."

"You come that way for the Prince, too. I've seen it."

"It's... different. Yes, his firm use of me gets to me, of course it does, I was weak that way before he ever trained me. But it's his right to take me when and how he pleases. It's not yours, and that makes this so much more devastating. In a good way. Oh, never mind, nothing is worse than a babbling girl after an orgasm."

"True."

She made a face at him; he kissed her.

"Do you love me, Enjine?"

"I... asked you never to ask me that."

"Yes, and I'm so very prone to obeying the dictums of slaves. Do you love me, Enjne?"

"I... don't know if I've ever truly loved anyone, Lord. But what I feel for you terrifies me; I would obey you in anything you truly insisted on, and not because of your rank. Maybe, for me, that's love. I haven't exactly had the clearest experiences in this area, Lord. The Prince is good at making women feel slavish devotion and calling it love."

"Real love causes jealousy and I'm sure he prefers a quiet harem. Anyway... I will take your answer as a yes."

"Does it matter? You have me anyway."

"It matters. Especially given plan B."

"I suppose that does change things. But one thing, Lord. I obey you and yearn for you... but I do not entirely trust you."

"Ha. You are commanded to disrobe before approaching so I can be sure you don't carry a weapon, Enjine. If you can come for me against orders, maybe you can stab me too."

"So trust is an... evolving... part of our relationship."

"Yes."

"Don't you men ever worry that we women will bite your cock off?"

"Not generally. That's very rare, and anyway, modern surgery is amazing. They just sew it right back on."

"I swallow."

"You're funny. You'd choke. And if you were going to bite a cock, it would be Arj's."

"He'd cheerfully cut me open to get it back. And I think the record for surviving in the Torturers' care is seventeen years. I wouldn't want to have to challenge that record."

"The record is actually twenty two, but the victim's last three years were so mentally fragmented it's hard to be sure there was an actual person being tormented. In the end he was a guinea pig for new drugs and techniques. That episode was kept secret, and it was inflicted by our dear Raja, back when he was a Prince. Now there is a man who you do not want to anger."

"And your plan will not anger him?"

"The Raja? No. He has plenty of sons. Did you know that with a fifty percent vote of the council, he can change the succession order? His whim and fourteen votes, and he can make any of his offspring the next Raja. It's not common knowledge -- but all his sons know it. So they all scheme -- and he's waiting to see who survives and who fails. If Arj fails, he won't shed a tear. Survival of the fittest, Enjine."

"I don't know why that's hot, but it is."

"Bloodthirsty girl."

"I like cum better." She curled and licked his lower belly, slowly.

"After this conversation, I better not feel a single tooth. But it's not going to provide you much yet."

"Oh, Lord. You should know better when you are with me. Be pleased to sit on the edge of the bed..."

She slipped out of bed, ran to his closet, and returned with a bowl and bottle of jasmine oil. Slowly, she began to dance for him, applying the oil to herself with slow, practiced fingers as she swayed, making herself a smooth, slick, glimmering plaything...