The Prince and the Traitor

When he pulled out of her, he saw the clear fluids that had splattered across both her thighs and his, as well as dripped on the floor--a result of how badly she'd been leaking as well as how hard he'd taken her, no doubt--and snorted. "What a mess you've made."

Talia didn't respond. When he let go of her hip, she rocked forward, then gasped loudly as she found she had just enough room in her restraints to bump her hips and the plump, wet lips of her cunt against the arm of the settee.

"Oh," she declared, her breath stuttering, her body shuddering, and she rocked her hips again, nudging just the least sensitive bit of her sex against the rough fabric. "Oh, oh, oh...please...!"

Prince Maillard laughed, watching her awkward, desperate humping and the steady drip of her cunt. "You'll give yourself another ruin that way, you stupid bitch."

"Uhhn," Talia groaned in response, her back arching as she tried to grind harder into the settee, but her ankles were secured too far back; she only succeeded in tickling the outermost lips of her mound.

"You know, nobody believes me when I tell them how funny you are now," he said, and slapped her firmly on one of the plump cheeks of her ass, making her groan and shudder. "I should start taking videos."

He leaned over and tapped the tablet again, and the belt rose back into place, forcing her hips away from the settee.

Talia groaned in disappointment as her slim hope of orgasm was stolen away again, and then she sobbed as it locked back into place. Neither of those sounds, though, compared to the one she made a second later when the Prince initiated the sonic pulses again on a low, stuttering pattern.

She wailed and begged wordlessly, and when the Prince pulled her dress down into place again, her face was dripping with tears, her eyes rolling unseeing in her head as the pulses teased her overwrought sex.

Prince Maillard tutted and wiped some of the running mascara from her face.

"You're a pitiable, sloppy beast of a whore," he informed her, and she sobbed. "But you're lucky that I like you this way. It's better than what happened to your colleagues, isn't it?"

Talia didn't answer. The Prince didn't need her to. He unlocked her restraints again, and watched with amusement as she sank down and grasped onto the settee, rocking her hips so that the belt ground against the corner of the furniture, as if her body was stupidly chasing the memory of being allowed to come from grinding that way.

"I'm going to take a bath," he informed her.

Then he walked away, leaving her to cry alone, senselessly begging the empty room for mercy.