Punished by the Prince

by Penelope Bloom

  “I don’t do things like this,” I say. “I stick to my promises. I’m a good person.” The words come out of me in a hurry, tumbling over each other in one confused jumble.

  “You didn’t do things like this because you let the people with power over you take advantage until now. They made promises for you and because you wanted to be a good girl, you obeyed. It’s not about good or bad. It’s about strength. Be a strong person. Follow your passion.”

  I suck in a deep breath through my nose to try to calm myself, but that’s a mistake. The air that comes in is full of his scent, and there’s manly power to it that ignites desire like I’ve never felt before.

  His hand is on my neck, thumb drawing a tingling line across my jaw. “You will be able to look at yourself in the mirror and say, ‘there… there is a woman who knew what she wanted and took it. She didn’t wait around until it was too late. She acted. There is a woman with strength.’”

  The last of my reservations melt away, blasted by the unbearable heat of his closeness and the fire in his voice. I let my head come closer to his, lips parted just slightly. I was a fool to think I could resist him. A complete, utter fool.

  I reach for him, reveling in the warmth and smoothness of his body, running my fingers down the lines of muscle that draw my touch down to his waistline.

  He crashes his lips to mine and I groan as his tongue slicks against mine. I can taste the sweet wine he must have had for dinner on his lips and tongue. He pins me to the wall with his body, pressing into me until all I can do is hold on and return his kiss while I ride a wave of adrenaline and pleasure.

  He pushes away after a time--seconds, minutes, half an hour, I can’t say. “Take your dress off for me now. Slowly.”

  His voice cracks through the silence as harshly as a whip, and it might as well be for how it compels me to move, making my hands grip the silky hem of my dress and pull it up.

  “Slower,” he commands.

  I obey, lifting the dress inch by inch. The air is cold against my bare skin, and I’m self-conscious of the wet patch on my panties that I have no way to hide. I fling the dress aside, standing before him in nothing but my panties and bra--which I opted to wear when I thought I might actually be escaping, even though it seems like no one here wears them.

  He paces in front of me, not taking his eyes from my body. His expression is unreadable for a time, but eventually his lips curl into a small, satisfied smirk when he looks between my legs. “I see I’m not the only one who was looking forward to this.”

  I press my thighs together, willing the embarrassment to pass and knowing it won’t.

  “Don’t be ashamed of it, Princess,” he says, lifting my chin until our eyes meet. “Your arousal is beautiful to me. In fact, I won’t be satisfied until you’ve let me enjoy it. On your hands and knees. Now.”

  My knees go weak before I have time to consider his request. Enjoy it? He wants to look at the wet spot on my panties? I should be mortified, but there’s something in the acceptance of his request that makes my skin tingle from my toes to my head. I go on my hands and knees, pointing my ass toward him, feeling so incredibly vulnerable but at the same time feeling a sort of safeness unlike I’ve never known. It’s as if I’m in a protective bubble of his approval and dominance, and so long as I maintain it, nothing can touch me.

  He sighs with satisfaction, moving slowly around me as if he is an art connoisseur appreciating a particularly fine piece. The way his eyes are feeding on me feels good. Really good. More than that, the way he demands instead of asks is so hot I can barely stand it. Everything about him exudes power, manliness, and sexuality.

  “What I want to do to you will feel good,” he says. “It will feel better than anything you’ve ever felt or dreamed of feeling. But you have to earn it. And you, my Princess, have been bad tonight. Before we continue, I need to be sure you’re clear about what this is.”

  I shake my head, still on my hands and knees but turning to face him. “I don’t think I have any idea what this is,” I say.

  “I don’t have regular appetites. The things I want--the things I need sexually would frighten most women.”

  “Would you hurt me?” I ask.

  “Not in any meaningful way,” he says.

  “That’s not reassuring.”

  He gets down on one knee, lowering his voice. “What I want is a unique kind of relationship. My life is an endless barrage of posturing and pretending. Relationships are as fake as the alliances they form. None of it is real beyond first glance. I want more. I want something deeper.”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “I’ve been with women before--not officially, because officially, a prince is supposed to be chaste on his wedding day, though I doubt that has ever happened. Still, the women before were meaningless to me. I went through the motions, nothing more. When I was here with you the first night you tried to escape though, it was like I woke up for the first time. I can’t explain it. Hell, I don’t even understand it. But I know what I need now. Will you trust me?”

  I should say no. I should stand up, gather my dress--and what’s left of my dignity--and run. Instead, I nod my head. No matter how stupid it may be, I want this. I want the life he promises, whether he realizes it or not. I want the trust and the acceptance that he holds in his eyes.

  “Good. If you change your mind, or if I ask you to do something you don’t wish to do, just say ‘Red’. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Like a safe word.”

  He nods. “Go to the chest beneath the whips.” When I make a move to stand, he stops me. “No, stay on your hands and knees. Crawl.”

  I crawl away from him, toward the box, all the while hoping he isn’t fixating on some imperfection in my body, wondering how my ass must look and how a man like him must be used to women who are the image of perfection. Yet he says nothing, and when I glance back over my shoulder, his face is full of lust and desire.

  “Faster,” he says.

  I increase my pace even though it stings my knees to move quickly on the rough stone floor. When I reach the chest, I put my hand on the clasp and start to lift it.

  “Stop!” shouts Roark. His voice booms in the quiet room, nearly giving me a heart attack. “If you’re going to be my Princess, you’re going to need to learn to follow orders better. What did I ask you to do?”

  “To go open the chest but crawl there on my hands and knees?” I ask.

  “No. I never told you to open it. You must do exactly as I say. No more and no less. If you obey me, I’ll give you more pleasure than you can imagine. Disobey me, and you’ll have to face the punishment. Now open the chest. Your punishment is inside.”

  I place a shaking hand on the clasp and raise the lid. My eyebrows lift when cold condensed air puffs out of the chest. It’s actually a freezer, and inside…

  It takes me a few seconds to realize what I’m looking at. There’s a single, long piece of ice that’s long and smooth. It looks like a cock made out of ice.

  I turn to Roark, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “Are you going to hit me with this?” I ask.

  He grins. “No. I’m going to make you cum with it.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black glove, slipping it onto his right hand. “Hand it to me. Stay on your knees.”

  I pick it up, already feeling a quick rush of panic at how cold it is against the palm of my hand. Imagining it inside me is a whole different story. I’d never admit this to Roark in a million years, but the biggest thing I’ve ever had inside me is a tampon. It’s not like I chose to still be a virgin at eighteen because of some moral obligation, it just never happened. I guess being the sad, withdrawn girl doesn’t get guys beating down your door.

  That’s all changing now though, even if it might be changing a little too fast.

  I watch Roark as he takes the dildo made out of ice and he hefts it, eying me as he does. I’m not sure this is what I want my first time to be like. I consider telling him I’m a
virgin before he can put it inside me, but what will he think of me? Will he still be interested in me if he knows I have no experience at all?

  I turn my head away, closing my eyes and frantically thinking of what to do, but before I can, he presses the tip of the dildo against my panty covered pussy. I’m so hot and wet that the cold transfers immediately through the material of my panties, making me jump. “Not inside me, please,” I say quickly.

  He pauses, and I think he’s going to ask why or tell me I don’t get to make demands, but he doesn’t. He just resumes rubbing the frozen object against my panties, making me shiver with pleasure and cold. “As you wish,” he says.

  Relief floods me. Maybe I can still enjoy the demanding, domineering side of him and still feel safe. For what seems like the first time in my life, someone has put my happiness before their own, and it’s an amazing feeling. It might still be beyond crazy that I’m in the dungeon in a hidden kingdom with a prince behind me whose holding a frozen dildo, but hey, I always wished for something different, and it doesn’t get much more different than this.

  I hear him pull something from his pocket and a second later he’s tying a black cloth over my eyes. His strong hand presses between my shoulder blades, encouraging me to lay my torso against the stone floor.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he commands. He engulfs my wrists, turning them so my hands are palm to palm. The angle arches my back, causing my nipples to rub against the floor sending shards of pleasure through me. He ties something soft around my wrists, tight enough that I can’t escape, but not so tight as to hurt. “It’s time for your punishment. You need to cum before the cold becomes too intense, so don’t hold back, Princess.”

  With my vision taken away, my world is sensation and sound. I feel the icy touch of the dildo against my pussy, making my panties even more wet as he drags a path of pleasure between my legs. I want his lips on me, his skin on my skin, but he doesn’t give me that. He only gives me the frozen touch of the dildo, and while it’s not what I want, I know it’s his hand that holds it and his mind willing me to climax, which ignites a tingling sensation in my belly that swirls through my body, making my hairs stand on end and goosebumps appear on my skin.

  Just when the cold is almost too much to handle and the pleasure starts to fade into discomfort and pain, the warmth of his fingers against my hip hits me like an explosion. Even the innocent touch feels magnified into something sensual and reactive after the ice cold touch between my legs. Then he hooks his hand around the waistband of my panties and yanks hard. The elastic waistband pops and he tears the panties away, leaving me shuddering.

  Jesus. Roark isn’t like the men I’ve known. He doesn’t hesitate or do anything in half-measures. It’s full-speed, maximum intensity with him. There’s a vulnerability and a blinding kind of excitement to having a man like that completely focused on me, like being on a rollercoaster and not being able to see the tracks, just knowing the wind is rushing in my face and ears and we’re not slowing down.

  He gives my ass a quick slap that makes me jump. The sound rings out like a firecracker going off.

  “Ow!” I say a little crossly.

  “Say what you want,” he growls. “Unless it’s the safe word, your punishment isn’t finished, Princess.”

  I squeeze my hands together, mostly because the way my wrists are tied gives me nothing else to hold on to--and right now I feel like I need to hold on to something as tight as I can.

  He slides the icy member between my legs again and my mouth falls open in a silent gasp of surprise. The few moments of warmth from his hands make the ice feel even colder now, but the way he’s moving it, sliding it across me and using the head of the dildo to massage my clit… It’s almost enough to make me forget the cold. Instead, the discomfort and pleasure swirl together in a confusing storm I don’t want to end. Each time my pleasure nearly reaches a breaking point, the discomfort from the cold overcomes everything else and pushes down the climax that’s waiting to explode.

  “You’re doing well, Princess. You’ve earned a reward, but only a temporary one.”

  I’m about to turn and ask him what kind of reward I’ve earned when I feel heat between my legs that’s so blissfully good it nearly takes my knees out from under me. It isn’t long before I realize what is so wonderfully warm.

  It’s his mouth. Prince Roark’s mouth. On my pussy. His tongue, swirling inside my entrance.

  The climax that has been struggling to erupt comes roaring to the brink now. My body quivers in anticipation and I know it’s going to happen, but then it’s gone. The soft kisses, the gentle warmth of his tongue sliding between my folds and exploring every inch of me, the way his strong hands gripped my ass as he buried his face in my most private place… It’s gone, and the absence is nearly enough to take the breath from me.

  “You didn’t think you would get to cum before you’ve finished your punishment. Did you?”

  “No,” I say.

  “You’ll address me properly, as your prince.”

  “No, Prince,” I say, feeling my skin tingle at the submissiveness in the phrase.

  “Now, you’ll cum this time. If I have to give you another break, there will be more consequences.”

  I nod my head, still blindfolded and feeling dizzy from the overwhelming emotions I’ve experienced since stepping into this room.

  The icy dildo presses against me again, and it’s as if every near-orgasm I’ve had has built up and formed something frighteningly powerful inside me, like a white light that is about to burst free at any moment. I grind myself shamelessly into him, completely forgetting to be embarrassed of how exposed I am or the moans spilling from my lips.

  “Oh God,” I gasp.

  The pleasure mounts but so does the pain of contact with the ice. My skin begins to numb, but the pleasure is so intense now that it runs deeper than the surface of my skin and I still feel something growing ever stronger deep in my belly.

  His strong hand slips around my neck, putting pressure on my throat until I have to strain to breathe. The word “Red” starts to bounce around in my mind, and I nearly say it as my breaths grow more and more shallow and the intensity of the ice against my bare pussy starts to feel like hot, unbearable pain.

  Roark leans over me from behind, still working the dildo against me and gripping my throat. “You’re strong, Princess. Cum for me. Fucking cum all over this dildo and scream for me. Take the pain and make it your pleasure. Use every bit of it.”

  The sound of his voice is an anchor for me, something to focus on as my world dissolves into a storm of indescribable pleasure and pain. As if his words unlock something deep inside me, all the sensations blur together into an experience of pure, unadulterated pleasure that explodes through me and unleashes an orgasm that dwarfs anything I’ve ever felt.

  My knees slide out from under me and collapse to the ground, shuddering from the strength of my orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through me. It’s almost too much, but Roark’s warm hands soothe me, rubbing over my skin, providing comfort, grounding me in the here and now. He releases my hands and rubs them gently to ensure they aren’t harmed.

  When he finally removes the blindfold, I roll over and sit up. I’m covered in sweat and feel like I just ran a marathon. I look to Roark, who watches me proudly, as if I’ve done everything he hoped and more. Maybe it’s stupid, but his pride in me makes me glow. It makes me want to do more, to please him again. To even go above and beyond what he thinks I can do for him.

  10

  Roark

  It has been four days since I was with Elizabeth in the dungeon. One of the only reasons I dragged myself to the royal ball tonight was in hopes of seeing her. All around me, men and women mingle, laughing too hard at jokes that aren’t funny enough and drinking too much wine. Everyone is dressed to impress, and even I had my tailors touch up one of my nicer suits for tonight--a black jacket with gold trim and a coal gray undershirt. I normally don’t concern mys
elf too much with how I look, but I knew Elizabeth would be here--not that I’d admit this, even under torture, but I want to look good for her.

  I still marvel at how sated the darkness within me is since our time together. In all my adult life, I haven’t gone this many days without some sort of violence to push it back, yet here I am after four days of nothing even close to violence, and all I feel is the growing lust for my Princess to be under my power again. This innocent woman from the outside may be the cure for my curse. I may be able to steal a taste of her here and there, but ultimately she’s out of reach. Centuries of tradition and an entire kingdom stand between Elizabeth and I, yet I’m not ready to give up on her yet.

  She fascinates me in a way no woman ever has. Even though I could tell how badly she wanted to fuck me in the dungeon, she was prepared to resist me. I had to convince her that the promise made by her parents isn’t her promise. In a way, I feel guilty that I persuaded her into giving in to our desires, but I shouldn’t. I meant everything I said. As much as I appreciate her loyalty to honor what was promised, I know Titus will make her miserable.

  A few weeks ago I might have thought the same of myself, but she brings something out of me. I’ve only felt the first hints of it because our time together has been so fleeting, but I think she could make me into something better, something more. I know one thing. I would never hurt her, at least not in any meaningful way. Any pain from my hand will be with the sole intention of making my Princess cum harder than she ever has before, I can’t say the same for my brother.

  I smirk, feeling my cock stiffen at the idea of having her again. There’s so much I still want to do to her, but I suspect she’s a virgin. My brother and his people kept very close tabs on her throughout her life, and if she did have sex at some point, it would come as a great surprise to me. When she asked me not to penetrate her with the frozen cock the other night, my suspicion of her virginity grew. After all, what woman would want her first penetration to be with a frozen dildo?