A Royal Catch (Xanaphia X CrushedbyHeels)

"Ungh," he moaned in response, trying to buck up at her. He was still totally under the control of her body. As her pussy clenched down on him and she found her rhythm, he tried to match it as best he could. He could feel her seeping allover him, that was good, it felt wonderful and dirty, and it meant she was enjoying him, riding him.

"Yes Mistress," he said as she commanded him, his eyes mesmerized by her wildly flopping tits. Oh for a hand free, or the reach to get the tip of his tongue to those glorious breasts! He felt heat pooling in his ground, felt his thrusting growing more desperate. He was young, but he'd already cum once today, and what she was doing to him was too much for him to hold out. Especially when she was ordering him not to. His balls clenched even as she tightened around him. "H-have it all! Take anything you want from me!"

With a wild moan, his hot cum spurted up inside of her as he gladly fed the body of his mistress.

She pumped him a good couple more times, clenching tightly as she could to get every drop out of him. Once she was satisfied with the amount, she leaned down for a kiss, drinking deeply from his mouth. As their lips and tongues intertwined she worked to release his hands, breaking off the kiss the moment he reached out for her. No she wanted to leave him long for more, desperate to touch and please her. She climbed off him quickly, pulling out an outfit to wear for the day. As she picked out a blouse and skirt she called to her pet.

"I think we could use a bath, don't you agree?" She suggested to him, nodding over to the bathing room. "Why don't you run us a bath? I'll have my servants go out and get you something suitable to wear while we bathe."

He looked at his newly freed wrists in something like astonishment. He was learning a lot about himself today, or at least getting a lot of confusing new information. He sat up on the bed feeling her presence linger on him; his body was still warm from her touch, still smelling of her. Her taste lingering in his mouth. He was still completely in her thrall, but part of him was still clear headed enough to realize it. To understand that she was teasing him, manipulating him. That she had danced so tortuously away from him to drive him wild. He thought, if he concentrated, he could probably break free of her influence. It wasn't magic, after all, just a skilled twisting of his youthful desire.

He didn't toss the thought around for long. Why fight it? He was enjoying being trapped. And the fact that breaking free would get harder and harder the longer her put it off was....fun....

"Yes Mistress," he said, climbing up from the bed. He walked to the bathing room. Plumping was a recent development, but not so recent there was any kind of mystery to the device for him. He slid the block to the side, releasing torrent of warm water, and noticing a rack of scents and oils mixed a few in. Normally, of course, servants would have handled that, but the process wasn't any more mysterious to him than the plumbing...and for the moment, he was the servant wasn't he?

The thought gave him a little thrill as the scented water in the bath rose, steam curling off it as he sat down on the edge of the tub.

((SORRY! First i was sick, then there was work, then the holiday...but I'm back!! Sorry again >_<))

She joined him in the bath shortly, lighting some candles in the room to give it a more intimate feeling. He hadn't protested even the smallest bit as she ordered him around, making demands that were unbefitting of a prince. Most of it was to see how far he would let her take it, to discover where his limits lied. Now she wondered if he had any such limits. Was he so enamored with her that he would let her do whatever she wished, and follow her every command to the letter. Well, she would enjoying finding out.

She climbed in the tub and pointed out some bottles sitting on the counter nearby. "Wash my hair with that one," She explained, fanning out the strands in demonstration.She moaned and sighed as his hands went to work, running through her hair, massaging her scalp. She closed her eyes deeply giving into the pleasure of of his hands on her head. She was completely vulnerable in this moment, and if he had a mind to, he could have done anything to her. Taken her in any way he desired, forced her to acquiesce to his longings. He could easily overpower her, easily use his position of power to refuse her demands and bend her to his.

Yet he obeyed. Happily. His hands didn't dare move where she did not direct them to. His eyes drunk in her figure, soaking wet and covered in suds, yet his actions remained completely predictable. "Scrub me down now," she told him, and his hands followed. They never stayed too long in one place, just lingering long enough for a touch. He must have wanted to do more, but his compliance was greater than his lust.

"Hmm, you did a very good job my pet," she spoke to him softly, sitting up now to make room in the tub, "why don't you join me now, the water feels so good." Sponge in hand she scrubbed him down too, her hands free to touch him as she pleased. Admiring his youthful body, finely sculpted muscles that contained a dignified strength. She took much longer with him than he did with her enjoying the way he felt, and his reaction to her soft touches. Each moan was a lovely little gift to her ears and she would have many gifts this day.

Her served her happily and obediently. He was floating in a kind of warm cloud. So far he had done everything she asked, but then again so far she hadn't asked anything he didn't want to do already. He wondered if it was like hypnosis? Would the spell break when she finally wanted him to do something truly against his nature? That is assuming she hadn't already. Before last night, he would never have expected it was in his nature to call a woman "Mistress."

He washed her almost worshipfully, his hands gliding through her hair, gliding over her glorious skin, reveling in the work. There was akind of peace to it; something that let him slip back into that comfortable cloud and enjoy the stillness of her control over him. All his life he'd been in an odd position; as the fourth son, he'd had immense power over others, but no reason to use it, and his life had been hemmed in by protocol and duty. Now, as he served her, all of that faded into the background. The only thing controlling him was her will, rewarded by her touch, the only thing he had to worry about was what she wanted, and it was like the focusing of his life to those two rules; "what she wants" and "what she says," had cleared seventeen years of tension from his mind. He had never heard the word "subspace," but he had found his way there remarkably quickly.

He did, of course, want to do more. But that would have been...sharp. He didn't have the right words. That would have meant blowing away the smoke in his mind, retreating from that warm place to someplace hot and hard. Those were the wrong words still, he knew; he'd been "hot" and "hard" plenty since she started having her way with him!!! But he knew what he meant. He might have chosen to accept her control, but now she had it. Taking it away would have ruined everything.

"Yes Mistress," he said, climbing into the bath and letting the warm water envelop him. She was much bolder with her hands than he had been, and his whole body seemed to tingle with desire and anticipation as she scrubbed him clean.

They bathed for awhile, until the water grew cool and the candles devours themselves. It was a lovely sensual moment between lovers, or it would have been if they were anyone else but who they were. This was something illicit, something dangerous, but what is life without a bit of danger. She needed this danger in her life, snaring a prince within her web of deceit and ambition. For too long she was complacent with court life, and it was beginning to bore her. The complaisant young prince however, was awakening the part of her that wanted more, that aspired to power.

There was no guilt within her and she used the young prince. It wasn't all deception after all, she had genuine feeling for the boy. Genuine feeling that grew as he displayed his submissive nature. One might think that such feelings would fill her with guilt for what she intended to do to him, but, on the contrary, those very feeling steeled her resolved. After all, she only wanted what was best for the boy, and her desires for power were what was best for him. At least she managed to convince herself of this notion.

A servant came in and set something on the bed. "Madame, The clothes for his highness are on the bed." Was heard and then the sound of the door closing. She nudged the young prince up, "Let us dress, I still need to give you your present." She hushed any words of protest he might have had. "The giver receives as much pleasure as the receiver. Would you deny me some pleasure?" She asserted, the phrase holding a special double mean she was sure he would understand. Yes she had the feeling he knew all about the pleasures of giving pleasure.

She toweled herself off as he dress in the clothes she had purchased for him. A black silk shirt that sat loosely on his body and silk pants that matched it. It should be a quite comfortable outfit even in the humid climate they resided in. Once he was dressed she put her feet into some thigh high boots, currently unlaced. She cleared her throat loud enough to get his attention and pointed at her feet, hoping to get her meaning across. She bit her lip as she watched him bend over to lace up her boot, tempting him with her powerful thighs and perfect hairless pussy.

Once her boots had been laced up she slipped into her dress, once again assigning him lacing duty, this time to the corset in the back. Feeling his hands work around her hips and waist, his strong hands serving her needs at her command, made her feel warm inside. She had him dressing her as though he were her attendant. This extended far beyond sex for him now, and she was always fond of being waited on hand and foot.

They made their way out of her manor and into the city, arm in arm. She suspected it might cause some scandal, certainly some rumors and speculations of who the prince's bed warmer was last night, and she couldn't help in revel in it. She wanted people to know that she had slept with the prince, so that if she does come up pregnant, no one can deny his paternity.

Of course, she assumed he liked the bragging rights of having had her, as boys that age were so fond of. She was a brag worthy conquest after all. Somewhat older than him, but still quite lovely. Especially in her low cut dress with her breasts pushed all the way up from her corset.

They made it to the docks before she spoke to him again, "Now, I am sure you already have one, but I felt compelled to commission one for you." She lead him to a small boat, a catamaran similar to the one she had when she purchased her first boat. Of course this one was top of the line while her was a broken down piece of shit, but that was neither here nor there.

"What do you think?"

"Oh no mistress," he said with a slight grin. "I would never want to deny you pleasure."

+++++++++++++++++++

His submissiveness faded as they got outside. It didn't disappear, but he stood a little straighter and was less deferential in his physical mannerisms. Inside it had just been the two of them; out here he was still Prince Caleb with all that entailed. He simply couldn't trail after her like a faithful puppy, however pleasant that might have sounded.

He'd laced up her boot more than willingly, taking the liberty of planting as soft kiss on her laces just before he'd finished. Then he had followed her obediently (if not quite as petlike as he'd been overnight) out to the docks. She was absolutely right that he was going to brag about this. A seventeen year old boy, even one as generally good hearted and submissive as Caleb, was still a seventeen year old boy. The details of what they had done together would probably stay a secret, though.

He was also not, quite, as naieve as he might have seemed. From the cradle he'd been taught to look for the advantage. What does this person want from the prince? The king? How will what I'm doing affect the royal family? The politics of the kingdom? And he wasn't under much illusion about who his new Mistress was. It had already ocurred to him she was using him to gain some kind of advantage. For the moment, he didn't mind. He walked beside her, enjoying the company of a woman so beautiful and trying not to be too obvious as his eyes strayed to the acres of flesh revealed by her outfit. Even when he'd thought touching her was just a fantasy he'd appreciated the way she'd dressed.

"Mi-Reine," he said, blushing as he caught himself, "Thank you. For...everything. I have to get to the palace soon though, as much as I hate to go. Father needs me to...good gods that's amazing."

He stared almost dumbfouned at the boat. He'd had boats before, but they were always gaudy, ostenatious things. This wasa lot like him; strong and simple.

"Reine, thank you," he said, looking at it. "Someone else would say it was too much, but of course I'm a corrupt and greedy noble. She's almost as gorgeous as you are. Does she have a name?"

"Well, she's your boat, it's your duty to name her," She answered him coyly, leading him onto the vessel. Running her fingers along the railing brought back memories over a decade old. She couldn't help but smile as she reminisced on her early days, dodging the royal navy and other pirates alike as she broke through blockades. War had been a profitable venture for her then, and it remained profitable for her now, albeit in different ways.

"I always thought it was bad luck to name a ship before she's been to sea," She told him after a moment of silence. "Why don't we take her out, see what she can do?" With just the two of them they should be able to manage. They wouldn't be able to smuggle supplies into enemy waters anytime soon, but in this calm weather they could test out the ship. Truthfully she was experienced enough she could take it out on her own, but she didn't need the prince wondering about any unexplained sailing skills.

She let him take command as the brought the boat into the harbor. She was acting mostly from muscle memory anyways, her body remembering the ways to handle the boat. The salty sea air caused curls to form in her long flowing mane, she found herself constantly pushing it behind her ears and out of her eyes. God, how she missed the sea, the feel the waves rocking her vessel. Of course, this wasn't her vessel, even if she had paid for it. She got her money's worth, however, watching the young prince work the sails and the wheel, his delicious muscles glistening with sweat under his shirt. Yes, he was worth a boat or two, and she couldn't help but hope he would be ready to take her again shortly.

Somehow, she looked even more beautiful on the water. He smiled at her as he noticed her ogling him. There wasn't really any other word for it, and the idea that she might enjoy looking at his body as much as he enjoyed looking at hers gave him a little thrill. The boat was amazing too, responsive and fast (a lot like him, he thought with a little blush) and riding it on the waves was an absolute joy.

"I really do have to get back," he sighed after a while. "There's all kinds of stuff I have to do at the palace. And we need to find someone who can paint "Lady Reine" on the hull here..."

She let out slight chuckle as he offered to name his boat after her. But she looked away from he as the sailed back to the docks, a painful memory overcoming her.

A fifteen year old girl stood in tatters and chains between two older men, a tall thin one with greasy hair and a fucked up nose, and a fat man, short and hairy in the worst places. The short one held a parchment in his hands, filled with the relevant nature for all the slaves they had stock. He chuckled slightly to his friend.

"Her name is Reine," He told his friend, pointing to the name on he paper. The tall one just looked at him dumbfounded.

"So?" The tall one asked in a gruff voice, while the fat one just sighed.

"It means queen in a another language," The fat one explained to his tall companion and after a moment a stupid smile crossed his face.

"So, she's a slave named Queen, huh?" he said as he put it together, laughing now. "Well, your highness, right this way," he said in a mocking tone, pulling her by the chain to her cell. The fat one found this quite amusing, throwing a couple "your highness" at her as well. tears filled her eyes but she said nothing.

"Never had me a Queen before," The tall one said as he reached out to grope her breasts. The fat one slapped his hands away.

"And you ain't having this one neither," the fat one snarl at his partner. "She's a virgin, and you know we'll get a lot more for her if we keep her that way."

She was quiet the rest of the way back, relieving painful memories in silence. Once they docked she took a moment to calm herself before speaking to Caleb.

"I am thinking I'll join you back to the palace. I have business with the crown myself." She informed him, her tone lacking it's earlier warmth.

He noticed her discomfort. There was often discomfort, when she talked about his family. He wondered why exactly that was...but he still didn't feel like he was in any shape to pry.

"Then we can sail the Lady there," he said. "It'll be a great way to show off to all my friends. The boat...and you. I hope you don't mind."

He tacked the boat sharply, and soon they were caught up in a current that would swing them around a small peninsula to the palace. With that done, he laid back in the boat beside her.

It wasn't a bad plan, necessarily. She had her servant pack some food on board when they were in the market earlier. Some fresh fruit and bread, soft cheese and dried meat. A bottle of fine wine and a couple goblets. They would have a couple hours before they reached the palace. Enough time to enjoy a meal and each others company. So she pulled out the basket and served herself some wine. If he wasn't going to get balls deep inside her she needed something to fill the void formed by painful memories.

"You really want to show me off to your friends?" She questioned him somewhat teasingly, as she served herself some food. "You want to tell them the things we did. The things I let you do to me?" She took a big bite of her food before she continued.

"Want if they get intrigued? Lustful? What if they try to make me their own? A marriage proposal from one of your friends would be a good match, difficult to turn down." She told him in a slightly cruel tone, hoping to incite some jealousy.

There was a bitterness rising up in her now and she tried to drink it down. The wine wasn't nearly hard enough. She needed some rum in a time like this. She thinks she might have stashed some on the boat, for emergencies of course. without a word she got up to find it.

He saw her mood change, although he didn't understand why. He'd always been good at reading changes in the weather. And he was starting to realize his mistress was a lot like a storm....

Her words stung him as he lay beside her. He'd just been thinking about reaching out, putting his hand on her thigh, when she'd come at him like a viper. Mentally he flinched, although he didn't think it showed on his face, as he looked up into her eyes and reached absent mindlessly for the wine. There was nothing he could do to keep the hurt out if his eyes.

"If it was anyone else," he said, "any other woman, I'd challenge them to a duel in a heartbeat. But with you, I couldn't. Because any man you chose over me would be your choice. You're not a court lady, pulled away by every romantic with a mandolin and a smile. You make up your own mind. Who would I challenge? You? Even if was acceptable to fuel a woman you'd just skewer me.

"But it would hurt, Reine. It would hurt badly, to be dropped so quickly."

The last sentence was...younger. The central contradiction if Caleb; his training as a prince (aided by a fair amount of native intelligence) and the listless young boy with four older brothers.

"And I think you know that," he said , hiding the small hurt quaver in his voice. "Something upset you, right around the time you got on the boat. If it was something I did, I'm sorry."

She found the bottle she was looking for as he spoke, obvious pain in his voice. She hadn't intended to wound him so deeply, she just wanted a bit of reassurance that he would fight for her. She knew it was quite the roundabout way of doing things, but sometimes she felt like an insecure young girl, trying desperately to find a place in the world. She took a large swig from the brown bottle, the spiced rum leaving her feeling warm.

"It's not you," She told him after a quiet moment, taking another sip of her before turning to face him. The rum she picked was stronger than she expected and she could feel a flush on her face. "I just fear you're going to pass me off to one of your friends when you grow bored of me," She admitted to him, coming off more honest than she intended. As the confusion grew on his face, before he could form the words to question her, she bolting forward, taking him into a deep kiss before she might have to explain herself.

The kiss and deep and hungry and tasting of liquor. She pushed him against the side of the boat now, her tongue seeking out his voraciously. He would be able to sense some desperation in her action, but she was beyond caring at this point, needing to feel him more than she needed him to desire her at the moment. She was tugging at his pants while she kissed him, wasting no time undressing him.

He was so flabbergasted by the thought he didn't manage to reply before her lips poured into his. HIM get bored with HER? He'd been waiting all morning for her to tell him she was done with him, that it had been fun but she didn't need to do it again. How could he pass her off to anyone? How could he possibly-

The rum-soaked kiss replaced his mind with mush and he became putty in her hands. He could tell her later, he decided.He could sense her physical need, so he worked to keep their bodies pressed together, helping her slide off his pants while he gasped her hip, his hand sliding down to seek the hem of her dress. He felt his own need for her, and did the best to let his roaming hands and desperate lips let her know that need.

She worked her mouth down to his neck, Kissing his skin, nibbling and sucking on her veins. With one hand she held his wrist over his hand, holding him there, under her control. She needed control right now, needed more than she needed her next breath. She was drowning in a sea of emotions and he was her life boat. She would ride him all the way to safety. Her other hand stroked his cock, bringing it to life with blood and lust.

"I need you in between my legs now," She told him as she broke off from his neck. She released his wrists and took a step back, "I don't care if it's your cock and or your tongue, I want it in me already." She hiked up her skirt now, to show him the glistening desire running down her thigh. She had her finger on her clit, teasing herself and him with quick hard rubbing.

He could feel her need for him. It was on a basic, instinctual level, but he could still feel it. She was clinging to him, biting him, raw and posessive and needful, and his body responded instantly. He clung to her just as desperately, and her hand on his cock was hardly needed. Her obvious lust and desire for him was already driving him wild, making him want to have her again, to please her again. To give her the pleasure she needed and desired, to feel the way he had felt when he had pleased him last night.

He almost wailed when she stepped away from him, but then her skirt lifted and her voice growled and there was only one response he could possibly give.

"Yes Mistress," he said breathlessly, falling to his knees before her.

He leaned down and buried his face between her legs, pausing just a moment to kiss her thigh and bite into the soft flesh, then he buried his tongue in her pussy as deep as he could go, lapping the wetness from her and diving deep for more, desperate to taste her.

She smirked as he dropped to his knee at her command, so eager to please her still. She liked the enthusiasm, and she show him this by wrapping one leg around his head, balancing against his body. She knew this wouldn't be a long term solution, because as soon as she started cumming she would probably topple over. She took that risk for the time being, grasping his hair for leverage.

She moaned and sigh as his tongue explored her soft folds, her salty nectar collecting on his tongue. "That's it, right there." She directed him, fingering her clit still.

"I want you to shove your dick in me when I cum." She instructing him between moans. "I want you to feel my body convulsing with pleasure. You are going to pick me up and fuck me against the side of the ship, is that understood?" She leaned against him now, her balance growing weak as her excitement increased. She knew she was close now.

He could barely hear her, with his own pleasure crashing in his ears and her gorgeous leg wrapped around his head. Luckily, he'd been listening for any commands from him. He kept his tongue busy, burrowing deeper into her folds until he felt her walls tightening around his tongue, then he slipped out from under her leg and stood. Following her orders he wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing her breasts against his muscular chest as he lifted her and slammed her roughly against the side of the boat. His cock was rick hard now, pulsing and twitching, desperate and eager for a hole to fuck, and he plunged it into the sweet, velvety lips of his Mistress's pussy.

He fucked her with wild abandon, biting at her chest and neck as he buried himself inside of her, balls slapping as he fucked in and out of her. He needed her now, needed her with a desperate heat that clouded out everything, and he surrendered to his desire for her and buried himself deeper with every thrust.

She was beginning to fear he might miss it, since he was still new to all this. She wasn't sure he knew what to look for as she began throbbing around his tongue. Just as she though she might fall over ungracefully in a spasming orgasm he caught her, lifting her into his strong arms. She felt So light in his arms, so feminine as he supported her with ease. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him into her tightly. As she was filled by his manhood she cried out in bliss, her body tightening at her core, squeezing his cock something powerful.

It would take great effort to fuck her through this, but he seemed up to the challenged, fucking her into the wall with all the strength a young man possessed. His mouth bite into her neck and it cause her to shriek with glee, the sudden pain igniting her pleasure all the more. She just held his head there, as he moved between her tits and necks, kissing and biting them voraciously.

"How does it feel? Do you like my pussy milking you so strongly?" She whispered in his ear as her orgasm ebbed down. She bounced against him in rhythm of his thrust, engulfing his entire length each time. There was something about this rough fucking he was giving that drove her mad. and even better it was a rough fucking of her own demands. He might have wanted this with all his heart, but he only did it because she asked. Because she told him to. She liked having that kind of power.

"Oh god yes," he said, his voice something between a moan and a snarl. "It feels like you're sucking me dry!"

He was forcing his hips to move, fucking her deeper and deeper as he pounded inside of her. She could have whatever she wanted of him, and if what she wanted was to make him impale her on his cock as hard as possible he was more than happy to oblige. It was almost a kind of violent surrender; even his aggressiveness was hers to command, a loyal pet. Like an attack dog; docile and gentle, then exploding with a simple order.

Again something at the back of his mind warned him he could get in too deep. That the day could--would--come when she asked more than he had (or possibly was willing) to give. But that wasn't today, and as he buried his head in her breasts and pounded her harder and harder against the hull with wet, lewd sounds he didn't care about tomorrow.

She gushed all over him as he thrust into her softness. Their fucking made a wet sounds as he filled her with his girth over and over and over again. It was a good thing they were out at sea, for how loudly she was screaming and moaning his name. The feeling of her nipples between his lips was incredible, as he kissed and sucked them so powerfully. She continued to buck her hips against his, taking his length each time, throwing her head back in utter euphoria. He was hers, she told herself. He was hers and not (necessarily) the other way around. He wanted her, wanted to please her, wanted to serve her every desire. All of that made he even more desirable to her. She knew she had to have him for her own, had to possess his mind and body while they were so perfectly obedient to her.

"You've felt my orgasm, now it is your turn. Fill me with your cock and cum, while I writhe on your body." She demanded of him with each bounce. She forced her tongue and lips into his mouth, engulfing his with her passion, threatening to overtake him in a wave of lust.

He had become nothing but flesh and heat. Her body, pressed against his, was robbing him of all coherent thought. He accepted her kiss hungrily, his tongue entwining with hers as the two of them writhed together. His hands gripped her desperately, clinging to her like he was afraid done wing might come and blow him away. It might, at that. His desire mixed with hers had an almost physical force to it, like he was caught in a burning hurricane. He moaned into her lips as he buried his cock inside of her, felling her walls grip onto him all the way to the hilt, and his whole body quaked as his hot, thick cum exploded inside of her.