Training the Princess Ch. 02bylynneauden©
Isola had been left chained to the wall all through the night. This was a new cell, larger than the one in the dungeon, and cleaner. She was even given a small pallet to sleep upon, though she could not do so now. Her wrists were shackled just below the narrow window of her cell, held above her head, she was forced to crouch, the chains too short to allow her to comfortably sit.
She wept as her mind ran through her first lesson with the Damdren King. The first of many, she was sure. Her body ached from the cropping she'd received. The place between her legs throbbed in pain... and something else. She could not understand why her body responded to her torture like that. She couldn't possibly like the pain, yet when she remembered the feeling of the crop flicking her sensitive nipples or running over her slit she shuddered and blushed.
She drifted into an uneasy sleep pressed against her cell wall, her arms growing sore from their bondage. She watched the sun sink in her bouts of wakefulness, darkness growing in her chamber. One of the women who'd taken her there came in at one point to light the torches. Apart from that she saw no one. She heard the stomp of boots going past her door, the chuckles of men as they went about their evening, other doors open and close, yet she remained alone. No one brought her dinner, and by the time the sun crept up into the world again she was feeling her strength wane.
Her eyes snapped open as the sound of a key scraping in the lock of her cell door broke her solitary silence. From the angle of the light in her cell she would guess it was well past midday.
"You're in for a treat today" a guard she'd never seen before sneered as he stepped into her cell. She shrunk against the wall as he loomed over her, all too aware of the whip at his waist, and the dagger at his side.
The guard followed her eyes to his whip and chuckled "No, girl. You think the king would let his guards have all the fun? If you're in for a whipping it'll be by his hand." he saw fear flash through her wide eyes and smirked. "Yes, not sure if that should be a relief or not." he said, unchaining her from the wall, though quickly chaining her wrists together before leading her out of her cell.
She was dragged through the castle, led up winding stairs and through wide passages until she stood before enormous black doors. Two guards stood on either side, and at her arrival threw the doors open. Inside was a large room, a long table at the center filled with soldiers, and the king sat at the head, advisors bearing stacks of parchment surrounded him. Everyone looked up at the sound of the doors swinging open.
"Ah, our bride to be is here. Thank you Tredik. You may unchain her and go." he said, taking in his captive once more, she stood with less pride today, her head down instead of tall above her -- a sign that her rough night had done its job. Turning back to the guard he said "There are some new prisoners in the dungeons, fresh from a raid on Graiken. Find yourself one for your trouble." He enjoyed the look of horror that spread across Isola's face at this comment.
"Thank you, m'lord." the guard replied, unchaining the girl before dropping to his knee and leaving the room.
"Well, princess, we've just been discussing you. Come and see the marriage contract we've received from your kingdom." he said, smirking as she closed her eyes, steeling herself for the fact that this truly was happening. When she didn't start to walk towards him the king snapped his fingers, a guard coming from the side of the wall came forward and slapped her sharply across the face, laughter coming from the table as her cheek reddened. "I said come, pet. You really must work on doing as you're told. Now come here."
Isola blinked to hold back tears from the pain radiating from her cheek. As she walked down the table she felt all the men's eyes on her, taking in her body, every curve on display in the thin silky gown she was given. She cursed the coolness of the room for making her nipples stand at attention, straining against the soft fabric which seemed to tease her nipples with every step she took. She made it to the end of the table, and stood by the king's side. Her heart ached as she saw the parchment in front of him. She knew that hand, it was written by her father's advisor, signed and stamped by the king.
"Yes, my pet." the king said, his hand slipping behind her to caress her ass. "Things are moving along very nicely as you can see. Your dowry is most impressive. We've agreed to cease our raids on the villages and keep you alive. Your parents have agreed to provide us with a very generous allowance and fee. At this rate you and my son shall be wed within the month. A pity we had to refuse your parents the right to see your wedding. We couldn't risk an army coming onto our lands."
She could barely concentrate on the paper in front of her. The table was laden with food, the men were clearly enjoying an excellent dinner, and she had not had a bite to eat in twenty-four hours. She felt weak.
"My lord," a captain spoke up from further down the table. Isola glanced at him and recognized him as one of her captors, Kors. "How do we know they won't come to try to take her back once we stop sending out raiding parties? Without our scouts we're blind."
"Captian, there is a simple solution to this, one that I have made clear to the Lansing king and queen from the first letter. They know we have superior armies. That is the only reason they've agreed to peace to being with. And they do love their daughter," he said, his hand running over her silk covered ass, massaging her flesh, enjoying the way she squirmed at the liberties he took with her body. "They love her, and know the way we treat our captives. They'd rather keep her out of the dungeons, which they know is the first place we'll send her should a single drop of Damdren blood be shed."
"Yes, my lord." Captain Kors responded. "Though with your permission I would like to continue to lead scouting trips along the borders of our lands. I do not mean to disagree with you, my lord. I do not ask to raid villages or attack travelers. Just to watch out borders. It would be best to keep the Lansing people aware of our presence." he said, refusing to give up so easily on his position.
The king considered this for a moment "Lieutenant Harker," he said, looking down the table at the young soldier. "You're our best scout, and have proven yourself worthy of my counsel table with your advice on this marriage contract. I would like to hear your counsel on the matter."
The captain bristled at this comment, his advice being passed over for a lieutenant's clearly did not sit well with him. Harker cleared his throat quietly after a moment's thought. Isola looked at him, recognizing him as the man who'd first captured her... yet the man who had showed her the only decency since that day. He seemed to feel her green eyes upon him, for his own grey pair turned to meet her's. When their eyes locked he quickly turned back to the king, "My lord, I feel we should continue to scout, though not in the larger parties we have been using for raids. I would suggest that we send only two or three scouts at a time to keep a subtle eye out. We do not want to seem as though we are plotting, though I agree with the captain that it is best to keep a watchful eye."
"Wise counsel, Lieutenant. You'll have a good career ahead of you, boy." the king said. "You've been very helpful: finding my little pet here; bringing her to me alive and unharmed, against the initial wishes of your superior officers it would seem; coming up with a plan to fill our coffers and stop the enemy from attempting war on our lands for good... I believe such service should be rewarded."
"My lord, you are too kind. All I desire is to serve my kingdom." Harker answered, his eyes momentarily flicking towards Isola. He was painfully aware of the way her nipples stood up against the fabric of her thin dress.
"Ah," Duane said, having caught the movement of Harker's eyes. "So you like my little pet here? No great surprise... what man wouldn't want a turn with her? And you were so patient on the way back from the woods... leaving her unspoilt."
"No, my lord, I would never ask --" Harker began before the king stood, causing the room to fall silent.
"Lieutenant, stay behind. The rest of you may leave. We shall continue our discussion tomorrow." his hand on Isola's ass had aroused him, he no longer cared to hear from his counselors, he wanted to hear sweet screams from his pet. He enjoyed the way she flinched when his hand drifted low on her ass, brushing against the back of her cunt.
His counselors and officers kneeled as they left the room, leaving him alone with Harker and Isola. He watched as Harker shifted uncomfortably in his seat, he'd never been alone with the king in the past.
"Well Harker, you have certainly earned a prize. And don't deny the desire you have for this girl," the king said, cutting off Harker's response before he did more than open his mouth. "Now I don't know that I'm willing to share my pet. Such a pretty little flower... delicate, pure, untouched." He allowed his hands to move freely over Isola's body, running his hands over the curve of her hip. She stood stock still, eyes glued to the table in front of her. "And suddenly silent, it would seem. You haven't said a word yet, my pet. Could that little lesson have been enough to remind you of your place here?" he asked, pulling her down to her knees, his hand caressing the red mark that stained her cheek. She shuddered as he ran over the welt forming on her cheek.
Isola remained silent. She'd learned that it was the tears and screams he desired, she would not give him the pleasure.
"Silence is golden, pet." the kind continued, grasping her by the chin tilting her head to look at her pretty face. "A good slut should been seen and not heard in the presence of her betters." he said, smirking at the look of rage that flitted through her green eyes.
"As I was saying Harker," he said, releasing Isola's chin and turning to face the lieutenant. "Such a lovely thing as our princess here is not a prize I am willing to share just yet. Though I will let you watch while I punish her after a little more breaking in. Would you like that? To see the girl bound and spread, begging for release?"
Isola could not believe what she was hearing. That the king would allow others to watch as she was tortured was too much, too humiliating to bear. She let out a barely audible gasp, drawing the eyes of the two men in the room. "My lord I--" Harker began.
"O, do you like that idea, pet? Does it excite you to think of Harker here watching you beg me to hurt you?" the king teased her, pulling her head back by her hair, once again bringing her eyes up to meet his own.
"No, please, you can't." she said, shaking her head as best she could, wincing as her hair was pulled painfully back. Her fear was getting the better of her. That quickly she went from stoic to begging for mercy, she hated herself for being so weak.
"Maybe another lesson is due, girl. You think you can tell me what to do in my own hall? You dare to tell me I 'can't' do something? You are mine, slut. My pet, my toy, my whore. You will do whatever I desire, whenever I ask, with anyone of my choosing. Your insolence will be remembered during your training. Now tell me what you are, pet. Tell me who you belong to."
Tears filled Isola's eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks with each shaky breath she took. "No." she said, her voice cracking. "I am not yo-"
SLAP, the king's hand went across her face, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room, the silence that followed was sharp.
"Harker, leave us. It seems my pet is eager to be punished." the king said, motioning for his guards to leave as well.
"Yes my lord." the lieutenant replied, standing to take his leave. As he knelt before exiting his eyes met the girl's, and the softness of them startled her. It almost looked like pity, a look Isola had not seen since the day she was captured. He turned on his heel and was gone, not looking back as he went through the doors, which were swung shut behind him. She knew guards would be posted outside the doors, ensuring privacy for the king.
"I'm disappointed in you, pet." the king said, watching Isola try to soothe the burn on her cheek with her slim pale hand. "You were doing so well until then. But have no fear, by the end of your training you will know who you belong to."
He walked slowly across the hall, the sound of his boots echoed across the bare stone as he made his way to a cabinet by the far wall. Isola shuddered to think what he would find to use on her inside of it. "You should undress, pet. I'd hate for something to happen to your lovely gown." he said, not even turning to face her as he reached into the cabinet. She saw him remove a few items, putting them each in a leather satchel before she could get a look at what was in store for her. She made no move to remove her dress, hating the offhand way he told her to strip, he didn't even look at her. She wondered why that bothered her. She certainly didn't want him to ogle her... but then why was she angered by it?
Puzzled, she was lost in thought, and did not even realize the king had returned to stand beside her. He pulled her to her feet, "I said to strip, slut. Or shall I remove it for you?" he asked, reaching for the knife in his belt. "And know this, I'll take it from you in pieces, and who know's when I'll see fit to dress you again... and I don't know that I could deny my guards the pleasure of your company if they had to handle you naked day and night."
He raised his knife to a shoulder tie of her gown, gently running the cold metal against her flesh, placing it under the strap, ready to pull through the delicate silk in an instant. The fear of being abused by the guards filled Isola. She was haunted by the screams and cries that filled the dungeons she lived in her first few days as a prisoner. "No, no please, I'll do it." she said, her hand quickly flying to her shoulder.
"And what do you call me, princess." he asked, sliding the knife further up her shoulder, moving up to her slender neck, letting the steel rest against her fluttering pulse.
"Master," she whimpered, the kiss of steel on her neck sapping her will to fight from her.
"Such a good girl." he murmured, removing the blade from her neck, placing it on the table before her, a warning. "Now the dress."
"Yes master" she said, her hands fumbling at the ties of her gown. The silk ran into a puddle at her feet, she fought to keep her hand by her side, she feared the king's response should she attempt to cover herself.
"Good girl" Duane said, enjoying the sight of her standing before him, she shifted uncomfortably, obviously on edge, uncomfortable and unsure of herself. She was right where he wanted her. "Tell me, my pet, are you excited for your wedding day?" he said, smiling as he examined her. Her skin still showed pale pink marks from the previous evening, though they were fading fast.
He caught her eyes staring at a plate of hard cheese and bread, sitting next to a beautiful brown roast chicken, only half eaten by his men. "Ah, yes. Supper. Are you hungry, pet?" he asked, stepping closer to her, watching as she fought to not shrink away.
When she did not respond he grabbed her cruelly by her hair, wrenching her head back "I asked you two questions now, girl, and you have yet to respond. I'll forgive the first as you haven't been fed since early yesterday, but do not think to disrespect me. You will get nothing if you are not a very good girl tonight. So I suggest you answer me this time: Are you hungry?"
Try as she might Isola was unable to bring herself to lie. The scent of the food was intoxicating, she dare not do anything to displease him, who knows when he would allow her food again if she did. "Yes, master." she whispered, eyes cast down, blushing and disappointed in her lack of willpower.
"Well pet, if you are a very good girl, and do everything I tell you I'll see to it that you are fed." Duane said, gently releasing his grip on her hair. "But should you disobey me, or refuse my wishes, it will be back to your cell and another night of shackles and an empty stomach. Do you understand?"
In a whisper, eyes closed Isola responded "Yes, master. I understand." she hated herself for giving in to his will, but she feared what would happen should she lose this chance.
"Good." the king said, "I think it is time I get a nice look at you, princess." he said, he walked to his throne, snapping his fingers and pointing towards the base of it, giving a silent instruction for Isola to follow him to that position.
Isola slowly walked to the foot of the throne, staring at the floor, constantly aware of the cold eyes of the king upon her, she fought to keep her hands from covering her nakedness. When she reached the base she quickly glanced up at him, waiting for his next order. She saw his lips twisted in a smirk at her embarrassment.
"Spread your legs shoulder width apart and lace your fingers behind your head, pet." he ordered her, "I want to get a better look at my future daughter." he laughed to himself at the look of disgust that played across her pretty features at the mention of her upcoming nuptials, but she obeyed.
Eyes downcast, Isola did as she was told. She felt like a whore, spreading her wares for the king to see, though she dare not disobey.
"Such a lovely sight," Duane said, taking in her pointed pink nipples, standing firm from her luscious white breasts. "Now turn, pet, I want to see the rest." His cock was straining against the laces of his pants, watching the sweet princess, daughter of his rival, pose and display herself for him was an incredibly arousing sight. She hesitated in turning for just a moment, her eyes coming up to his face, before quickly obeying when she saw the look of impatience in his eyes.
Her pale skin seemed to glow in the torch light, the pink marks of yesterday's punishment stood out against the white of her skin. His eyes followed the curve of her ass, gently sloping down towards the valley between her legs. He could just make out the outline of her bare cunt, spread open by the the stance of her legs. He wondered if she was wet... if displaying herself before him was awakening the slut he knew was hiding beneath her noble exterior, just waiting for a man strong enough to bring to light.
"Very good, girl. Though I'd like to see more before I'm satisfied. Remove your hands from behind your head, bend at the waist and grab your ankles. I want all of your treasures displayed before me." he said, feeling his cock pulse at the thought of her displayed so completely.
Isola took a deep breath, reminding herself that if she disobeyed she would be forced to starve another day or more, left chained in her cell. "Yes, master" she felt a blush creep over her skin as she reached down to her ankles, aware of how well displayed her sex would be in this position, open and spread before the Damdren king's eyes.
Duane rose from the throne, reaching out to gently stroke Isola's upthrust ass. She shuddered as he traced over the fading marks crisscrossing over the flesh. "Such a lovely thing you are, princess. Eighteen, a freshly ripe peach, just ready for the taking. Such delicate smooth skin," he said, running his hands down her ass, towards her open cunt. He gently probed a finger between her folds, smiling as he felt it slip easily between her damp lips, "And juicy as well, it would seem." he slid his finger back out, collecting her moisture as he did.
He rubbed two fingers together, feeling her juices glide between them, "Stand and face me." he ordered, as she slowly turned he saw the red flush in her cheeks, she knew there was no denying the dampness between her legs. "Well well well, it would seem you are enjoying this." he said, letting her watch as his fingers glided easily, glistening in the flickering light. "Let's see if you enjoy your punishment, slut." he said, leaving her standing spread by the throne as he went to grab something new from the cabinet by the side of the room.