Black Light_Valentine Roulette

by Livia Grant

  She said nothing.

  He lightly slapped her face and she glared at him.

  “Look, my dear, your name is a small thing to tell me. I could always call you ‘slut’.

  “My name is Sari,” she growled.

  He nodded. “Sari. Daughter of the King?”

  She said nothing again, and he reached forward to grab the mass of hair that flowed down her back, and yanked it hard. Her head snapped back and he spoke softly, his mouth only millimeters from hers. “There is only one Sari, and she is the daughter of the King I’ve defeated. Tell me, are you that daughter?”

  After a moment of silence, he tightened his grip on her hair. She yelped and her hands flew up to grab his wrist. He let go of her hair long enough to capture her wrists in one hand, and then grabbed her hair again. She whimpered but remained silent.

  “Are you the daughter of the King?”

  “Yes!” she finally yelled.

  He smiled, his inner sadist enjoying the banter. This one is going to be fun to break. He didn’t let go of her hair. “Where is your father?”

  “Why would I tell you?” She couldn’t quite cross the line to call him a name, but he could hear it in her voice.

  “Because,” he leaned close to her face again and was gratified to see her eyes go wide with a touch of real fear. “I could just murder him, and claim this kingdom. But if I can convince him to let me marry his daughter, I’ll have a legitimacy I wouldn’t have otherwise. And… I promise not to kill him. I’ll just keep him safely tucked away for the rest of his days.” Adam chuckled to himself. He was definitely playing a romance novel villain here; a real villain wouldn’t think twice about slitting the old goat’s throat.

  “I will never marry you!”

  “I don’t need your permission, or even participation. According to the laws of your country, all I need is your father’s blessing. You could wear a gag to the ceremony and it would still be legal.”

  He could see in her fiery eyes that she felt the outrage as keenly as if this had been real. Time to deepen the scene. He stood and yanked her to her feet. He grabbed a length of rope he’d laid out and expertly secured her wrists together, leaving a length of it that he used to drag her from their couch over to an unoccupied pole in the center of the room. She sputtered and protested the whole way, and he noticed they were getting some interested looks from guests. Once at the pole he lifted her wrists up and tied the tail to a ring high up, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes. She pulled hard on the rope to test her limits while she continued to glare at him.

  “So, let’s continue. Let me lay down the rules. You will speak politely to me at all times. Disobedience will be punished. You will call me My Lord. You might as well get used to that now, because after we’re married you’ll be kneeling at my feet every day while you address me in that manner.”

  That was too good a line for her to resist. “Kneel at your feet, you bastard? Never!”

  Adam was sure he heard a small gasp go up from those watching. He doubted Sari even realized they had an audience. He moved around behind her, and in a flash his dagger was unsheathed and at her neck. She caught her breath and whatever insult was on the tip of her tongue vanished.

  He spotted his friend Colin lurking on the edges of the crowd, an approving grin on his face. Adam flicked his eyes towards his bag on the couch. Colin nodded and retrieved it.

  “My Lord?” he murmured with a grin as he arrived. Adam gave him a half-smile at the title. Sari was glancing back and forth like she was afraid Colin was about to become part of their scene, but that wasn’t in the plan.

  “Would you please pull out a gag, a paddle, and the red ball?” Adam asked. Sari tried to protest but he pushed the dulled knife harder against her throat. It might have been dull, but the sensation would still be a powerful one, and she quieted. He removed the dagger from her throat and exchanged it for the gag.

  “I warned you. Now you’re going to lose the ability to speak for a while.”

  “If I can’t speak, how do you hope to interrogate me?” she challenged.

  “This won’t be interrogation. This will be fun.” He pushed the ball gag to her mouth and she let it in. He strapped it behind her head. Then he reached up to her bound hands and pressed the red ball into one of them. It was her safeword while she was gagged. If she needed him to stop, she would simply let it drop. He moved back around to face her.

  Her breasts rose and fell enticingly as she breathed in and out. He was glad she was out of the sexy heels, because now she was shorter than him and he could loom over her menacingly. He knew what he was going to do first. He took the neckline of her dress in his hands and pulled it apart. The velcro split neatly as planned but he must have been too eager because the tear kept going right into the fabric. The kitty in the costume shop was going to tear him a new one, but he didn’t care. Though he’d already seen Sari’s breasts tonight, when they spilled out of the torn dress, it was as though they glowed with their own moonlight. He cupped one, entranced, and she wiggled and squealed in protest. He ignored her, and bent down to take one of the rosy nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it hard as her struggles increased. His tongue caressed the suddenly hard point and her head dropped back as she moaned.

  “My little captive likes having her nipples sucked.” She shook her head furiously. “You tell me no, but there’s one way to find out.” Her eyes went wide as his hands dropped to her skirts. It was easy to get lost in one of these scenes; the emotions became very real, and that was exactly the experience sought by those who played games like this. He knew by the furious shaking of her head and her dilated eyes that her character was begging him not to raise her dress, but as long as she didn’t drop the ball, Sari was more than enjoying what he was doing. He grabbed the fabric and began lifting it. She struggled harder as the fabric cleared her knees, and then rose to the level of her pussy. He kept going until it was bunched at her waist and she stood exposed to the onlookers. One hand held the fabric while his other hand slipped between her legs. She grunted in protest and then squealed as he slipped a finger between her folds. He was not surprised to find her dripping wet; after all, this was her fantasy. But the princess would be mortified. He held up a glistening finger and then ceremoniously licked it clean.

  “Your sweet nectar does not lie, milady. You have always longed for a man to take you and make you his own.”

  She struggled in futility, and he let her dress drop.

  “But, enough. I told you that disobedience would warrant punishment, and so you shall see.” He picked her up by the hips, relishing the feel of her curves in his hands. He spun her around so she faced the pole. One hand pushed her hard against it, and the other hauled her skirts back up, tucking them underneath the waist to hold them up. Her cheeks were still pink from the earlier spanking, and the whip marks lay atop the redness in crimson lines. He traced one line with his fingernail and was rewarded with a squeal. He squeezed the lovely softness, then held out his hand to Colin, who handed him the paddle.

  “Twenty, for insulting my mother by calling me a bastard.” He grinned. He checked to make sure the ball was still in her hands. He raised his arm and brought the paddle down on her cheek, making a smack sound that echoed through the room. It also left an immediate red splotch on her smooth skin. She grunted but made no other sound. He fell into a rhythm on the first cheek as she struggled and whimpered and cried out from behind the gag. At ten, he paused and leaned close. “Are you ready to apologize?” he whispered. She shot him a look of pure hatred. “Very well.” He resumed the blows, this time on the other cheek, not sparing her in the least. He appreciated the dark redness that grew across the soft globes. At twenty, he tossed the paddle aside and plunged his hand between her legs again. She stiffened as he thrust a finger up inside, but he pulled back out. She was still pinned to the pole by his hand on her back, her face turned to the side.

  “Wetter than before, Princess. Perhaps you need to be paddled like this every d
ay. However, if you don’t tell me where your father is, I can promise you far more than a mere paddling.”

  He saw the resistance in her eyes, though she couldn’t do anything more than grunt in frustration and pull at her bonds.

  “But perhaps the princess is immune to pain? Perhaps something else might convince her to talk?” This time her eyes widened and her brow furrowed in confusion. “I think it’s time to find out.”

  Chapter 12

  Adam – the Prince – unhooked her bound hands and tugged her in the direction of a massive wooden door. There was little question that it led to a dungeon. She flicked her eyes back and forth between the door and her still-bared bottom, torn between worrying what was behind the door, and desperately wanting her dress to be lowered. She pleaded with him through the gag, the sounds coming out unintelligible.

  “Nope. That beautiful red ass stays bare for everyone to see.”

  It was one of the many contradictions of domination and submission, that she could be paraded naked across a room and feel less humiliation than when she was fully dressed, but had some part of her body exposed. She had no doubt the red of her face matched the red of her ass.

  The door swung open and he tugged her into the dim room. On one wall a second St. Andrew’s cross hung like a giant, silent warning. There was a flat wooden table with all sorts of tie-down points for doing wicked things to willing subs. A cabinet stood with its doors opened, filled with all kinds of toys to cause both pleasure and pain to any sub lucky enough to be dragged in here. And near the center of the room was a set of stocks.

  He escorted her to the wooden structure where he unbound her hands to place them in the lower half. He pressed on her back, forcing her to bend over. She had an internal struggle – once more, Sari wanted to obey, but the princess was defiant. Sari won. The top closed over her neck and wrists, and she was pinned. Her bared ass faced the door from where she heard the murmurs of spectators. The drool that had gathered in her mouth leaked out in a long string, down to the floor, and her humiliation was complete.

  Adam came around to her front and knelt. He traced his finger over her lips, around the red ball gag. “Such beautiful, sensuous lips. I can’t wait for them to be wrapped around my cock.”

  She jerked her head away.

  “Aww, princess, you don’t like my touch? That’s too bad. Because after we’re married you’ll belong to me. Every inch of you will be mine to do with as I please. I will stroke your soft skin. I will suck on your nipples before I pinch and torment them until you cry. My hands will stroke your folds and invade your most private places. My cock will bury itself in the depths of your throat, and if you resist me I will whip you.” He placed his hands around her throat. “And I will place a collar around here just tight enough to remind you every moment of every day that you belong to me.”

  She glared at him again. He laughed.

  “That look on your face is going to be very different in a few minutes. And since I want everyone to hear you the moment you surrender to me, this will have to go.” He reached behind her head to unbuckle the gag and the ball popped out, more drool spilling onto the floor until she moved her jaw around and could close her mouth.

  “Go to hell,” she spat at him.

  “No more talking, Your Highness, or this goes back in.”

  She dropped her eyes and stayed silent. Adam asked someone off to the side for a spreader bar. Her mouth opened to protest but at a look from him, she cut it off. He stood up and disappeared.

  A moment later she felt his hand on her ankle. “Spread,” he ordered. She didn’t move. A painful swat between her legs changed her mind.

  “Ow!” she yelped. She shifted her legs. He nudged them wider and she struggled to obey. She felt the cuffs of the bar wrap around each ankle, spreading her wide for all to see from behind, and removing all barriers to invasion. His hand dove between her legs once more. To her utter humiliation, she heard the wet sucking sound of her arousal. He pulled his fingers out. Then he was kneeling by her head again.

  “Clean my fingers.”

  Her mouth remained tightly closed.

  “Clean them or I’ll whip your little cunt. And don’t bite me. I can still spank you for the remaining thirty minutes of this evening.”

  She raised an eyebrow but opened her mouth and took his fingers in, sucking and licking. She noticed the bulge in his pants and couldn’t resist a smile around his fingers. He smiled back.

  “Now, Your Highness, you’re going to tell me where your father is.”

  She shook her head.

  Still smiling, he yanked his fingers out of her mouth. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.” He disappeared.

  She jumped when his cool hands touched her backside. She felt a finger trace the pucker of her asshole in little circles which made her wiggle and squeal in a very un-princess-like manner.

  “Perhaps we shall explore this tight sweet hole soon?”

  She closed her eyes at that image, already imagining it. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a vibrator. Oh, hell.

  “Where is your father?”

  She shook her head. “No!”

  The vibrator was thrust against her clit. It was too strong, too fast. She stiffened and shrieked. She wiggled in a desperate attempt to escape it.

  “Dance for me, princess.”

  And dance she did, crying out and begging for him to stop. And then it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

  “Your father?”

  She shook her head. She heard the vibrator turn on again and braced herself. This time, though, he placed it lightly against her folds. She groaned in pleasure. He kept the pressure steady, changing the angle slightly from time to time. Her lower belly twisted and tightened, like a black hole pulling everything inside. She could feel her nipples hanging from her swinging breasts, begging to be touched, begging to be part of the action. She shivered and panted, torn between pulling away from the constant buzzing, and longing to jam her aching slit hard against the silicone head. She was dimly aware that he had wrapped his arm around her hips, pinning her tight against his body and preventing her escape from the overwhelming pleasure. An enormous orgasm rose up like a geyser and exploded out of her body. She was helpless to prevent the screech that was torn from her mouth as she strained against the unyielding wood that held her prisoner.

  And still he held the vibrator in place. Suddenly the pleasure turned into something much less pleasant.

  “Stop! Please! I can’t – it’s too sensitive!” She tried to wrestle her hips from his grasp.

  “Then tell me where your father is, or beg for mercy!” He didn’t move it a millimeter.

  “No!” Her knees buckled but his grip held her in place. She wailed in distress, she struggled, and she fought, but it didn’t matter, and before long the second orgasm exploded out of her. The vibrator still didn’t move.

  “Your father, or mercy!” he repeated.

  She begged and pleaded for him to stop, and he showed not the slightest bit of mercy. He held her tight through a third orgasm, and a fourth, repeating the question each time, and she answered him only in pleas and cries. But as the rush of the fourth one faded and he kept the vibrator firmly planted over her overworked clit, it was too much. She surrendered.

  “Behind the forge!”

  Chapter 13

  “What?” Adam was caught off guard by the sudden confession.

  “My father is hiding behind the forge, there’s a hiding place under the floor, oh, please stop…!” She was sobbing now. He turned off the vibrator. Colin and another dom were at her side almost immediately, lifting the board off her neck. Adam, who had never let go of her hips, lifted her to standing and steadied her against his chest while the other men released her ankles from the spreader bar.

  She was flushed, with tear tracks down her face. He thought she looked beautiful and as he carried her out to a couch and sank down, he placed a kiss on her forehead. She smiled up at him.

 
“Holy shit,” she murmured. “Give me just a minute, sir?”

  He handed her a bottle of water and she sat with her head resting on his shoulder. She started to speak twice, but stopped.

  “Sari –” His sixth sense was prickling him.

  “Sorry. That was one of the most intense scenes I’ve ever done. And knowing there was a crowd…” She put the bottle of water down. “So now, evil prince,” she chuckled. “Now that you’ve forced the location of my father out of me, what will you do next? He’ll never give his consent, even to save his own life.” She started to pull away from him but he grabbed her dress and hauled her back.

  The princess had returned, and the game was on.

  “You’re so sure of that?” He stood and lifted her off the couch in one movement, grabbing his toy bag and carrying her across the floor to one of the semi-private rooms. He could do this out in the open, but somehow it seemed more fitting to fuck the king’s daughter with a pretense of privacy. But he wouldn’t pull the curtain, because her loyal followers were gathering, hoping to witness the defiling of their princess.

  He deposited her on the low, backless couch and looked down. She’d resumed the character flawlessly; her look of fear would have won an Oscar.

  “So, princess, there’s only one way to make sure your father gives his blessing to this marriage.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “No! Please, Sire, no!” She tried to scramble backwards but he pounced on her. He bound her arms and secured them over her head to a hook on the end of the red velvet couch. He replaced the gag between her lips, holding back his groan at the sight. She performed her part well; she fought him hard even after she was secured. But he pressed the ball in her hand and her fingers closed around it firmly. When he stood up again she was breathing fast and was more than a little disheveled, her curls sprawled out underneath her and her face flushed. If this had been real, he would have had a seriously hard time holding himself back.

  He hadn’t secured her legs, so when she began kicking, he yanked her dress up past her knees and then straddled them, pinning them down with his weight. She struggled and fought, but the red ball stayed put.