The prince worked a third finger inside me, and then a fourth. I felt a slight burn as the stretch became more extreme. I winced. Immediately, a fingertip went unerringly to that sensitive spot and rubbed it.
I sighed with pleasure, then sucked it back, expecting a reproof or even a slap from the prince. But he ignored it and pulled his fingers out. I heard a splash of liquid-- presumably he was cleansing his hand-- and then a rustle of cloth.
I glanced over my shoulder. The prince was stepping out of his breeches. He loomed naked above me, his rampant shaft swollen and dark against his moonlight skin. He was the most magnificent thing I had ever seen, all black hair and white skin. I had never realized a man could be so beautiful.
He knelt above my buttocks, then poured out more oil and slicked his cock. The sight of those slim fingers sliding over his own shaft almost stopped my heart.
The prince poised himself over me, bracing his hands on the carpet. Then, with a sudden plunge, he pushed the head of his cock inside me. I gasped. He had penetrated my ring of muscle, and I could feel every bit of him inside me, stretching and filling me.
The oil had eased its passage, but I felt myself tightening, against my will. The prince rocked his hips forward, slowly pushing himself farther inside me. I made myself relax. I was once again very aware of my rock-hard staff against my own belly.
As Prince Alar's cock pushed forward, I felt an overwhelming sense of release as something inside me relaxed. The prince sighed softly, and I knew that he had felt it too.
He buried himself in me, up to the hilt. His balls slapped against the sensitive skin of my ass, and I could feel the bones of his pelvis pressing against me.
Now he began to thrust in earnest. He filled me, rubbing steadily against the sensitive place inside me. I squirmed beneath him, matching his rhythm and rubbing my cock against the soft carpet.
It was an incredible feeling to have the prince's organ inside me, to feel the power of his whipcord muscles and to touch the smoothness of his skin. I could hear and feel every breath he took. A drop of warm liquid fell against my shoulder, and dripped slowly down: the prince's sweat.
My heart was pounding, and my breath came in gasps. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through my body. Rather than dissipating, each wave built upon the next, until my entire body was hot and tingling and impossibly aroused.
I knew that I would come soon-- knew that I couldn't hold back this time-- and I couldn't bring myself to even try to hold out. The prince could punish me later. Now, all I cared about was the ecstasy of the moment.
The prince began to thrust faster and more wildly. I knew that he too was on the brink of climax.
He jammed his forearm under my belly and grabbed my cock in his oil-slick fist.
"Spend now," he gasped. "I order you!"
As he spoke, he jerked his fist in rhythm with his strokes. I didn't need his order. I came so hard that bright lights flashed before my eyes. My climax rolled out from deep within my body, not just my cock. Jet after jet of my seed spurted against my belly, each bringing a wave of pleasure more intense than anything I had ever experienced before.
With a snarl that sounded more like anger than ecstasy, the prince slammed into me and came as well. His cock pulsed within me, sending his hot seed into my body.
Prince Alar pulled out and rolled over, lying beside me on the floor of his lavish chamber. His fine hair was disarrayed and damp with sweat, his pale face flushed. He had never looked more beautiful.
Had circumstances been different, I would have caressed his face. I longed to do so-- to run my fingers through his hair, to kiss those swollen lips, to lick the bead of sweat from his cheek. But I had enough sense not to. I might have been born free, but I was a slave now. And even if I hadn't been, he was a prince and I was a farm boy. I had to remember my place.
The prince opened his huge dark eyes, and caught me staring. He scrambled to his feet.
"You!" he commanded, then stopped, seeming to not know what order he wished to give. Finally, he said, "You, slave, you may sleep on the floor. If anyone attempts to enter the chamber before dawn, they probably intend to kill you or me. I give you permission to defend yourself and to defend me."
With a final irresolute glance at me, he swept the fine white fur from the couch and tossed it over me. "You may sleep under this. It's ruined with your blood anyway. Peasant. Slave."
Prince Alar entered an inner chamber, shutting the door hard behind him. A key turned in a lock with a soft click.
I lay there on the floor, sated and perplexed. I did not understand these complicated palace intrigues, but I understood that I was in danger. And so was the prince. What I didn't know was from whom, and how, and why.
Most of all, I did not understand the prince, who had taken me from my life and brought me into this deadly, decadent world. Sometimes he seemed gentle, and sometimes he barely seemed to have human feelings at all.
Then I recalled the rumor that Prince Alar's mother had been a fallen angel. I could believe it. They say that of all the angels before the fall, Lucifer had been the most beautiful.
***
If you enjoyed this read, check out the second installment:
The Prince's Defiant Slave 2: The Hunt
The tale of Prince Alar and his loyal slave continues! Garin is furious when Prince Alar allows him to be publicly used in a humiliating sex game, "The Hunt." But when the arrogant prince is badly wounded saving Garin's life, the men forge a fragile new bond.
More from Cherry:
Other Books
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Bareback Rodeo #1: Wager
Mike Ox
Copyright 2014 Mike Ox
Will has been trudging along the highway for days, but nothing could prepare him for who pulls over. Red offers him a ride, and money if Will promises himself to Red for a week. Soon Will finds himself bound, gagged, and naked. Can he resist when he learns what Red wants?
Warning! This 4,500-word story contains reluctant consent, fingering, gagging, spanking, orgasm denial, loss of virginity, rough anal, and a very snug butt plug. Intended for adults only.
***
I stand on the side of the road, my arm outstretched and my thumb pointed toward the sky. The truck in the distance trails a cloud of dust. Even from here I can tell how rusty it is, but at this point I don't care. I've been walking all morning, and only three cars have passed. I wouldn't turn down a ride from a pack of coyotes at this point. The sun is rising, and my mouth feels dry as sandpaper. My heart is in my throat as the truck approaches. If the driver doesn't take pity, I could be out here all afternoon.
The truck whizzes by me. Fuck. Looks like all I'm getting today is a cloud of dust. I can barely see through the haze, but I hear the truck skid. Did the driver change his mind? I shield my eyes against the sun's glare. Like some sort of miracle, the passenger door swings open. I tumble into the seat, giddy at my good fortune.
I shut the door, throwing my head against the seat as the AC wafts over me.
"Sorry I didn't stop sooner," the driver drawls. "At first I wasn't sure if you were a man or a sunbaked lizard." He holds out his hand to shake. I give him mine, and he looks it over as he clasps it. "Hmm. No scales. That settles it."
I let him pump my hand, not really sure what to say.
He peers at me, his eyes dark under his hat. "On closer inspection, I'm not sure you're a man either. How old are you, boy?"
"Old enough." I pull my hand back, feeling a twinge of annoyance.
"All right, then." He chuckles.
There's my twinge again. I feel the oddest urge to make him angry. As evenly as I can, I breathe out. There's no way for him to know my story. I can't be mad at him. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm not really a man yet. I was a senior in college, but I... left."
"Didn't graduate, huh?" The driver shakes his head. "That's an asset around these parts. Besides, we have better ways of measuring a man."
"Like what?"
He glances over at me. "The size of his dick."
I laugh. He doesn't.
"I never asked you where you're headed. Or do you not care?"
The rolling plains pass faster as I lean my head against the window. "Carson City."
He snorts. "You don't want to go to Carson City. Why'd you pick that place, anyway? You like the name? There's not much else to like, trust me on that. Unless you want your ass to blister in the noonday sun."
The driver pulls to the side of the road. Why are we stopping? There's a town on the horizon. If he does anything strange, I can always get out and run.
He puts the car in park and turns to me, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering in places that make my breath hitch. No man has ever stared at me like this before. The hair stands on the back of my neck, but I'm not scared. I'm thrilled, and a little confused. My heart beats faster. Is his gaze really exciting me?
"Is it true that no one's picked you up all morning?" He shakes his head. "What a damn shame. There's no appreciation for anything these days. And you deserve to be appreciated."
I glance past his shoulder to see whether the doors are locked. His isn't, anyway. Is he fucking with me?
"I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Name's Red." He looks at me expectantly.
I hesitate, but give him what he wants. "I'm Will."
"Will. I like that." Red adjusts his hat. "Will, tell me, what are you doing hitchhiking in this god-awful place? Are you trying to save money, or are you flat broke?"
I'm not really sure how much I want to confide in him, but I hold up two fingers.
"Broke. That's what I thought. And you want to get all the way to Carson City? You're going to have to pay for that somehow."
My throat feels awfully dry again. I try to swallow. What could he possibly want from me?
"From where I'm sitting, it looks like you have two options. Option one: I give you bus fare, you use it to go to some random hellhole you pick off a map, and you think back fondly on my generosity."
"Why would you give me bus fare?"
"Because I know you won't take it. You won't be able to stand not knowing what the second option is."
"What is it?"
"See, I can't tell you that. Not unless you refuse option one."
He's a very strange man, but there's something about him that makes me loath to leave. Maybe it's the confident angle he wears his hat, his strong jaw line, or the muscles that ripple under his shirt. Something about him feels dangerous, exciting. I've never met anyone like him before.
Red digs out his wallet, finding two fifty-dollar bills for me. He holds them out between his fingers. "These should get you there, if you want them."
I eye the bills. If another man had offered them to me, I might have taken them. Instead, I cross my arms.
"If you need more money, I've got a solution for you. All you need to do is participate in a little rodeo."
I sigh. That's his big plan? "I can't be in a rodeo. I've never even sat on a horse before."
"You think I don't know that? Your boots are dusty, but they aren't worn. It's obvious you're as green as they come. But none of that matters. I can train you."
"Can you tell me more about it first?"
He shakes his head. "Not now. But are you sure you don't want option one?"
"Positive."
"Do you trust me to help you with option two?" He tucks the bills back in his wallet. "Just give yourself to me for a week. In seven days, you'll have enough money to go to Tahiti if you so desire. But I bet you won't want to leave by then."
I blink. That much money is tempting, especially if all I have to do is ride a horse for a few minutes. But how could anyone make so much from a rodeo, especially someone like me? And why do I have to give myself to him? The thought makes me shudder, not entirely with fear.
"You in?" Red lays a hand on my shoulder. The warmth is comforting. "You can walk away now, if you want to. Or you can come along for the ride."
I look into his eyes, and he grins at me. He seems sure of what I'll choose. God, I can't resist that cocky grin.
"I'll ride." I stick out my hand, and we shake on it.
This time, he puts more pressure into his grip. "All right, then. For the next week, you're mine." His possessive words send chills up my spine.
Red pulls back onto the road, and we drive through town. The signs are all too dingy to draw my attention, and everything seems to slide by in a dull haze. If this place has an abundance of anything, it's tumbleweeds and liquor stores.
The buildings grow farther apart, and soon the town fades in the rearview. At some invisible marker, Red turns off the road, onto a dirt path that I can't tell apart from the plains. I see a gray house in the distance. It's the only thing on the horizon, so we must be headed there. The bumpy ride seems to last forever. When we reach the house, Red stops. I swing out of the car, rubbing my bruised tailbone. That truck could definitely use some new shocks.
"Come in." Red ushers me through the door. "This is your home too, at least for the next week."
His place is pretty spartan, except for the pile of food on the table. Once my eyes latch onto it, I can't look away. I've been scrounging for so long that I can't remember the last time I had a decent meal. My stomach growls.
Red notices my fixation. "You hungry? Eat. You're going to need your strength."
That's the only encouragement I need to tear into the food. I feast upon the fresh biscuits. Red sets a platter of mashed potatoes and gravy next to my elbow. While I dig in, he heats up some chicken. As soon as it's ready, I bite into a drumstick.
Red smiles indulgently at me as he starts ferrying plates to the sink. Once he's finished, he starts putting the food back into the fridge and cupboards. I want to stop him, but that seems rude. Still, I have taken the edge off my hunger. I can wait for the next mealtime to be fully satisfied.
"I know you're still hungry," Red says. "But that'll have to do for now. We have work to do." He sits down, handing me a glass of water.
I gulp it down as he watches intently. He leans closer and my heart beats faster. I'm down to the dregs before I get suspicious. "You didn't drug this, did you?"
He grins. "No need. The water is purer here. It has the opposite effect on your thoughts though. One drop will make you wilder than a horned toad, and you've downed a whole glass.
Blood rushes through my head. Is that true? It would explain why I'm suddenly so aware of his scent, of lingering smoke and windswept plains. It would explain why I'm growing stiff under his gaze, and why his commanding presence makes me lean toward him rather than away. I think back to our agreement. He said I was his. That means he could do anything with me. Suddenly, I want him to.
Red spreads his legs, then draws my chair to his until they're touching. My heart beats fast against my ribs. In all my time on the road, I've never felt so vulnerable before. Locking my eyes with his, Red brushes my knee with his fingers. A jolt of electricity courses through me as I'm stabbed with fear and longing. He glances at me, then pushes my chair away again. My fear fades, but longing threatens to overwhelm me. Why would he push me away?
Rising, Red walks around my chair. I want to look back, but force myself to face forward. I don't want to look too needy, too anxious.
"I'm glad I picked you up today." Red lays a hand on my shoulder. "We still have time before the rodeo. We'll prepare a little today, but we can keep things more about us."
"U-us?"
"Yes." Red's hand wanders down my shirt, undoing buttons along the way. My chest tightens under his touch. "I haven't brought someone here in a long time. It can get lonely here, you know." Something clatters to the floor. Oh god, it wasn't his belt, was it? I refuse to look. I clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking.
"There's no need to be nervous." Red brushes my ear with his chin, and it takes all my willpower not to flinch. "This will be fun. Well," he amends, as I hear the s
ound of jeans falling to the floor, "it'll be fun for me. Whether you have fun is up to you."
His fingers glide over my neck. I can feel goose bumps forming where his skin meets mine. He tucks his hands under my shirt, forcing it from my back. I don't struggle. I let him take it off. Despite the heat in the house, I feel a bit cold.
Red loosens the bandana at my throat. "You've never been with a man before, have you?"
I'm about to answer when he forces the bandana into my mouth. I feel him knot it at the back of my head. The knot is tight. I reach up to feel it.
He slaps me down. "I'll take care of your hands soon enough. You won't need them, or your mouth either. All you need to do is nod yes or shake no. Do you understand?"
I start to panic. I've known this man for less than an hour, and he already has me gagged in his isolated house. I don't care what I promised him. I can walk to Carson City if I have to, but I can't stay here anymore. I push out of my chair, running for the door.
I crash to the floorboards. Red's tripped me, and now has me pinned beneath him. I writhe, trying to get his knee off my spine. I beg him to get off me, but I can't form coherent words around the bandana.
"That wasn't a wise move," Red says sternly. "I trusted you. You gave me your word. That might not mean anything where you come from, but out here it does. I want a week from you, and I'm going to get it. In that week, I'll use you as I see fit. If you behave, it'll be a pleasant week. Maybe your all-time favorite. If you don't, it's going to be miserable. Do you like my elbow in your neck?"
I try to wiggle away, but he only pins me further. When I'm too tired to struggle anymore, I lay still, gasping for air through my gag.
Bound and Bent: Ten Tales of Serving Him Page 13
