Of Pain and Delight (4 page)

The prince pulled away from her and she allowed the thick, flaccid cock to slip from her mouth then she fell sobbing to the floor, her emotions confused and her entire body trembling. She sensed that Prince Sarne was standing over her, staring down at her submissive form and somehow knew that he was grinning inanely again. She closed her eyes and began to sob heavily, wrapping her arms around her head. The rhythm of her pounding heart matched the throbbing between her legs as the intensity of her release subsided. She had done well, she thought. The prince would be pleased with her.

She sensed him move and once more felt sharp pain in her breasts as the chains were pulled taut. Unwillingly, she rose to her feet with her head bowed, to ashamed to look into the faces of the leering throng. The prince reached forward and lifted her face with his fingertips. He held her gaze for a moment with an almost hypnotic stare. ‘From this moment you are no longer a princess,’ he said, strongly. ‘Now you are Sahria, sex slave to the court of Prince Sarne!’

Sahria’s look of shame changed to one of total hatred. ‘You will never subjugate me, Sarne,’ she hissed. ‘I am nobody’s slave!’

‘We will see,’ answered the prince, his grin broadening. He shoved her backwards and she fell onto her bottom with her legs splayed widely apart. A momentous cheer filled the room and the crowd applauded and danced in mock celebration. Sahria bowed her head again, her tears falling to the cold, uncaring marble floor.

Prince Sarne leered contemptuously at the prone form of Princess Sahria. They were alone now, the crowd having been summarily dismissed by the prince following Sahria’s humiliation. She crouched naked on the cold marble floor with her head bowed in shame.

‘What think you now, princess?’ The prince’s tone was cruel and mocking while, at the same time making it clear that he was revelling in his brief victory. Sahria raised her head wearily and looked him full in the eye. Her hatred burned intentionally within her stony gaze.

‘My lord?’ she answered quietly.

‘What think you, now that your people have witnessed your complete shame and subjugation? Your reputation has been dashed forever.’

She moved to a sitting position and drew her knees against her breasts, clutching her legs tightly as though attempting to conceal her nakedness from his lustful leer. She could feel the hardness of her nipples pressing against her cool skin, and their evident arousal annoyed her. ‘You may have me in your power for the moment, Sarne, but that will not always be so. One day, not too far away, I will see to it that you regret your devilish deeds with all your heart.’

Prince Sarne reached down and touched her under the chin with his fingertips. She looked again into his eyes and, for a brief instant she sensed tenderness in his expression. ‘We need not be enemies, princess,’ he said, the gentleness in his tone sounding less than sincere.

‘You defeated my father. You forced him to flee his country and desert his people.’ Her throat was dry and she had to fight to get the words out without choking.

‘Your father is a warrior. He fought bravely in battle. He may yet return, but you can be assured that I will be more than ready to meet any challenge he may throw down to me.’

‘Why did you make war against my people?’ Sahria managed to control her voice, speaking calmly and without emotion despite the fact that she detested this man for all he’d done to her. For some reason that was difficult to understand, she found the power that seemed to exude from his presence to be overtly stimulating. Sahria was unsure whether it was his hungry good looks, his deeply penetrating stare, or merely the mental image of his superb cock that caused her to tremble inside, but concluded that it was probably a mixture of all three. His dominant stance intrigued as well as excited her…

‘Your country is rich and the land is fertile,’ the prince continued. ‘Why should you be surprised that your neighbours covet your wealth? It is well known that this very palace houses many priceless baubles looted from the farthest reaches of the world. And your women – they are well known for their beauty and their insatiable libidos. Why should I deny the men of my nation such delights?’

‘And yourself,’ muttered Sahria to herself.

‘Above all, however,’ continued Sarne, clearly not having heard her words, ‘the fact is that your people were oppressed. I have come to free them from their yoke of submission.’

‘By killing them?’ Sahria pulled herself to her feet and glared angrily at the seated prince. The sarcasm in her tone seemed lost on him.

‘There were few casualties, other than the trained soldiers whose lot it was to die for their king.’ He regarded her through narrowed eyes. ‘Princess Sahria,’ he continued, ‘you must learn to accept that your country is mine and that I am your ruler.’

Sahria placed her hands on her hips and stood squarely before him. She was no longer concerned about her nakedness, and in fact thrust her breasts forward in a defiant gesture. ‘I will never bow before you, Sarne!’ she exclaimed.

Sarne leered at her sumptuous flesh and smiled cruelly. ‘You bowed enough when I fed your sweet mouth with my thick stalk,’ he sneered.

‘I had little choice, shackled as I was to your slave. You are a coward, Sarne.’

The prince leapt angrily from his seat and towered above her. He gripped her arms tightly and she struggled vainly as his fingernails dug into her soft flesh. ‘You are the coward, princess,’ he roared. ‘For years you have tormented your subjects to satisfy your carnal needs. Now you will learn for yourself the true pleasures of pain and subjugation!’

He pushed her away roughly and she fell heavily to the floor, with her legs splayed apart. Sarne looked unashamedly at her exposed sex. Sahria made no attempt to cover herself, defiantly offering her body to his eager gaze. ‘You have a succulent pussy,’ he said, his voice softer in tone. ‘I wonder how many hard pricks it has accommodated over the years.’

Sahria said nothing in response but found, to her profound irritation, that her juices were beginning to flow again and were already trickling between her buttocks. She closed her legs and clutched her knees against herself once more. Sarne knelt in front of her and forced her thighs apart. ‘No, don’t hide your treasures, princess,’ he said, as he looked down at her shivering nakedness. He ran the tip of his tongue across the surface of his upper lip as he leered at her. ‘See how it glistens, reflecting the sunlight,’ he breathed, his voice barely audible, even to her.

Sensing a kind of victory, Sahria rested her hands on the floor behind her and leant back, thrusting her breasts upward and spreading her legs as wide as was possible. She sensed her sex lips part to offer him the tantalising view of her inner flesh. ‘Why don’t you fuck me, Prince Sarne of Persia?’ she taunted. ‘Why don’t you get it over with?’

There was a long pause as the prince gazed at the open lips of her cunt. He reached forward and tugged lightly at one of the rings that pierced her tender sex flesh. ‘I will fuck you when I am ready,’ he said quietly, ‘but first you must learn.’

‘Learn what?’ Sahria pushed his hand away and struggled to her feet. She waited for a moment, but there was no response. Sarne merely looked at her, his expression betraying little emotion. She turned her back on him angrily and strode across the hall.

‘Come back here!’ The prince’s voice boomed out and echoed around the room. Sahria turned to face him and glared.

‘Just who do you think you’re talking to?’ she growled. ‘I am not one of your slaves.’

Sarne walked quickly over to her and grabbed her by the arm. She tried to pull away but his grip was too fierce. ‘There are no slaves here,’ he hissed, ‘not any more. All men are free.’

Sahria laughed in his face. ‘You are a fool. A rich man must have his slaves. How else is he to live?’

The prince answered by grasping her hair and roughly pressing his mouth to hers. She felt him probing his tongue between her lips and clenched her teeth tightly to deny him entry. He gripped her bottom with his free hand and pressed his crotch against her. She could feel the hardness of his thick erection against her stomach. She allowed her mouth to relax and his tongue slid against her own. For a brief moment she tried to imagine what it would feel like to have that same tongue slithering in and out of her hot pussy in preparation for even greater joys to come. Suddenly, she regained her composure and bit him firmly on the lower lip. He yelped and pushed her away with such a force that she once again fell to the hard, marble floor.

‘You evil vixen,’ he moaned as he grasped his bleeding mouth. ‘You’ll pay dearly for such gross impertinence.’ He clapped his hands loudly. Immediately, three guards appeared as if from nowhere. ‘Take this to the black chamber,’ he ordered, as he indicated Sahria’s naked form. The guards looked at one another and grinned, then roughly helped her to her feet. She was furious at their treatment of her but was trembling visibly. Sahria knew the secrets of the black chamber well. She had enjoyed many diversions there in the past, watching as the men were shackled and beaten, purely for her own lascivious delight. Now it appeared it was to be she who was the victim.

Two of the guards gripped her wrists while the third stood behind her and pressed his spear against her naked back. She looked over her shoulder and glared with utter contempt at the armed man.

‘Just where do you think I’m going, dressed in nothing but my own sweat?’ she hissed. ‘Put the weapon down, you fool. I am a princess. I will walk on my own.’ She shook her arms free of the other guards and marched purposefully towards the door.

‘You will learn much this night,’ called the prince from behind her, his voice still shaking with fury. ‘You will discover the pleasures of pain, and you will come to me begging for more!’

Sahria ignored him, contemptuously tossing back her hair as she continued to walk swiftly from the hall, closely followed by the guards.

Once they were out of the prince’s sight one of the soldiers ran a hand over the sumptuous curves of her bottom. She grabbed hold of his wrist and flung it away from her. ‘Touch me again, you animal,’ she spat, ‘and you will pay with your life!’

The guards laughed in roars of united derision. The first reached out his hand and fondled her buttocks roughly, then wormed a finger against her anus. The second guard held his spear against her throat and stared into her eyes menacingly, while the third soldier cupped her pussy.

‘She is soaked!’ he exclaimed with a grin. ‘She is already prepared for us, my friends.’

Sahria tried to push his hand away, but in vain. He slipped all four fingers deep inside her and she groaned, not with pain but with pleasure.

‘See, this is what she wants,’ the guard continued. ‘Let us have some sport with her.’

Regardless of the fact that she was trembling with sheer anger at their impertinence, Sahria felt an overwhelming desire to give herself to these rough-handed men. The events in the great hall had fired both her imagination and her lust.

The soldier behind her had managed to force his finger fully inside her bottom and was moving it rhythmically in and out, like a tiny, hard penis. Her breathing became laboured and she sensed her juices flowing. Despite her previous years engaged in many and varied libidinous pursuits, she had never been touched in such a base way before. Nobody would have dared.

‘I said take her to the black chamber!’ The voice was that of Prince Sarne, who was suddenly standing behind them. He was clearly furious. The two men immediately withdrew their hands from Sahria’s nether regions and pushed her forward before the prince could wreak his vengeance on them. They rounded a corner quickly in the passageway and then slowed their steps.

‘I thought we were done for then,’ said one of them as he breathed hard. He glanced fearfully over his shoulder, but the prince had not followed them.

‘It could have been our heads,’ babbled another.

‘Why do you serve such a vicious master?’ queried Sahria, anxious to win these slow-witted numbskulls in some small way.

‘He is strong but he is fair,’ replied the spear-carrying guard. ‘In our country he freed all the slaves and gave work to the beggars. He intends to do the same in your own land, now that he has rid the country of the tyrant Al Fahoud.’

‘Take care when you speak of my father—’ Sahria began.

‘He is an evil man, and you know it. The people lived in constant dread, never knowing if each day was to be their last.’ The soldier stroked one of her breasts, then cupped the mound of flesh. Sahria remained nonchalant, as though he was gripping her wrist. His bony, rough-skinned fingers squeezed her breast and she bit her lip, determined not to show her pain. ‘Now the people are free, to do as they please,’ he added.

‘And there are many other delights, as you will soon learn,’ said the soldier who had previously slipped his finger inside her bottom.

‘What do you mean, other delights?’ Sahria asked the question, but feared that she already knew the answer.

‘You will see… you will see.’

They were nearing the door to the black chamber. Sahria began to feel a nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She had never been slapped, let alone restrained and lashed as her own victims had been. Was she to be shackled to one of the many frames in the room and beaten? Or was there much worse in store for her?

The spear was rapped against the door four times. Presently she heard the drawing of bolts and the heavy wooden barrier was opened. A small but immensely muscular man stood before her, wearing nothing but a tattered and grimy loincloth. His face bore an expression of utter evil as he leered at her through tiny, pig-narrow eyes.