The Prince's Pet (13 page)

Finally, I took him in my mouth,
guiding him with my hand as my wet lips enclosed him. And as I watched his
face, his eyes closed.

I began to suck and lick,
alternating my speed, taking him as deep as I could, almost to the back of my
throat. He began to make little moans, which sent quivers of arousal through me
in turn. I loved the way he looked right then, his hands tightening on the arms
of his chair, head rolled back and mouth softly open.

Soon, he moved his hand,
bringing it up and winding my braid around his fingers. He held it firmly, close
to my head, so that he could control my speed and actions. It didn't hurt, and
I didn't mind. It thrilled me that I could fill him with such urgent desire.
I
may be his slave,
I thought,
but I still have some power.

His hips were moving slightly
and he pushed down on my head, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth. All I
could do was relax, closing my mouth around him and licking him where I knew he
liked it. I moaned, noticing the vibrations it caused around his flesh, and he
groaned in answer.

A moment later, his movements
grew erratic. He stiffened, his hips and hand stilling, and I felt him throb in
my mouth. I eagerly teased him with my tongue while he held me in place, and he
threw his head back and issued a primal noise of bliss as his hot seed jetted
into my throat.

I had to swallow quickly, and
then again. It didn't have much taste, but I very much liked the sensation as
he pulsed and spurt in my mouth. He gave another little groan and his hand
released my hair. I took this as a signal and moved my mouth from him, looking
up at him as I slowly licked his member clean from base to tip. He shivered.

I was so very aroused - hot and
wet between the legs, my nipples aching, and I wanted so badly for him to touch
me. When Issander finally opened his eyes and looked at me, kneeling between
his legs, he must have seen the desire plain on my face.

He smiled, leaning forward to
cup my chin. He was breathing heavily, and his mouth was hot on my ear as he
kissed me there. "That was lovely." He said.

I smiled, nuzzling against the
side of his face. "My lord," I breathed. "Please." It was
all I could manage to say.

He stroked a hand down over my
chest and cupped my breast, thumb roughly caressing my hard nipple.
"Mmm," he said, a sound of approval. "My eager girl. Are you now
ready for me then?"

My lips parted and I breathed a
sigh as he pinched my nipple firmly between his fingers.
Yes.
I was
about to answer him.
Yes, take me, please my Lord.

"Stand up," he
instructed in a beautiful low whisper. "Undress for me. I want to see
you."

I did as he said, rising on
shaking feet and turning toward him. I was wearing only a thin robe, which I
slowly pushed off one shoulder then the other. I had come to enjoy being
watched by him. I liked the obvious delight he took in my body, the arousal I
caused and his own body's reaction.

I moved slowly, letting him
savor the sight. Before his eyes I untied the belt, and let the robe slip down
my arms to the floor. He watched me the whole time, smiling calmly. He was
definitely back in control.

When I stood naked before him,
Issander reached his hand out to me. "Come here."

I took his hand and he pulled me
close and bade me sit on his lap. He stroked my face and kissed me, until I was
even more aflame with desire. I clutched at his shoulders and kissed his neck,
nibbling and sucking on his skin.

He took my hand from his
shoulder, and placed it in my lap. He parted my legs, revealing my bare, wet
sex and putting my fingers there. "I want to watch you, now." He
murmured.

I blushed furiously, but didn't
need much encouragement. Slowly - for his benefit at first - I stroked the
length of my sex. I was almost dripping wet, my flesh sensitive. I began to
circle and rub my pearl.

His strong arms held me steady
as I pleasured myself, forgetting about the performance and getting lost in the
pleasure. I writhed and moaned as my fingers worked, and he kissed my neck, my
ear, my shoulder, bringing me to higher passion.

I was very soon near my peak. I
was gasping and panting, and reaching - wanting that release so badly. I would
have just continued, but suddenly my prince took my hand, pulling it away. I
stared up at him plaintively, and he chuckled.

"You do not come without my
permission." He said. "Not ever."

Hitching in a breath, I nodded.
He kissed me, and I whimpered.

Issander pulled me close then,
lifting me up. I yelped in surprise as he positioned me so that I was
straddling him. All of a sudden I could feel the length of his hard member
laying right along my sex, pressing against me thick and hard and ready again.

I sucked on my lower lip as I
rubbed myself against it. It felt so good, sliding my wetness over him,
grinding my hips hard against his. I could have climaxed right then... had I
permission.

My master held me fast then, one
hand either side of my face, and looked into my eyes. "Now... what do you
want?" He whispered hotly.

I writhed on top of him,
pressing close, but he held me fast and I was forced to look at him. I had no
way to hide my desire, my need for him.

"I want to please you, my
prince," I answered.

He smiled, and moved underneath
me, causing me to whimper in pleasure and delicious torment. "Oh, you
do
please me," he said. "But I asked what
you
want. I would
hear you say it."

"I want
you
." I
said.

He stroked my cheeks with his
thumbs, a wicked smile spreading over his face. "Yes?"

"Yes... I want you to take
me." I half breathed, half sobbed with the intensity of it. "I want
to feel you inside me. I want you to take me, and fill me, and... and I want to
bring you pleasure, master."

He took his hands off my face
and kissed my lips hard. I opened my mouth eagerly, and hungrily sought his
tongue as we pressed our bodies hard together. Then I felt his hands on my
hips, and he lifted me, moved under me.

I felt the tip of his member
probing at my entrance and gasped as a thrill went through me. He was hard and
throbbing, and wet with my fluids.

He lowered me onto him, slowly
at first. I felt the tip of him stretching and filling me. It felt impossibly
large, and for a moment I wondered if it might split me in two. I knew it was
supposed to hurt, the first time - but was he simply too big?

I held my breath as he stilled
for a moment, then he moved inside me. Pushing deeper. It was uncomfortable,
but also thrilling.

And then, he thrust firmly as he
pulled my hips down on him, hilting himself deep in me.

I cried out as I felt the brief,
tearing pain, but he held me close without moving, and it soon faded to a dull
ache. He didn't wait long before beginning to move me over him again,
manipulating me easily with his strong arms.

And as I saw the pleasure on his
handsome features - his soft sighing breaths, his eyes briefly closed in bliss
- I smiled, bending to kiss him, and rocking my hips against his.

He moaned into my mouth, sending
another shock of arousal through me. And suddenly, I was aflame once more. I
began to move of my own accord, raising and lowering myself on his hard shaft,
enjoying the friction of it. Grinding my hips against him, feeling flesh on
flesh.

He held onto my hips, his
fingers digging in hard, but I barely felt it. I bucked on top of him and he
thrust hard into me, both of us crashing together faster and more urgently.

All too soon I gasped, squeezing
my thighs tightly. "My Lord..." I managed to say. "I - please, I
need to..."

He made a soft growling sound,
pulling me to him and biting my ear. "Mmm... Yes?"

"Please let me... oh, let
me come my Lord, I beg you!" I fought to hold off, clutching him tightly.
He was relentless, slowing down a only little, still firmly pumping into me. I
felt every inch of his throbbing member as he moved in and out.

His breathing was ragged and
hitching, now, and I knew that he too must be close. Why was his control so
much better than mine?

He was silent for a long moment,
moving deliciously inside me. I groaned, hiding my face against his neck.
Delighting in the pleasure, and yes, even the torment of it.

"That's it, my girl,"
he said finally. "Come for me now."

With a cry of sheer joy I let
myself go, feeling my whole body tighten and quiver as a torrent of pleasure
crashed over me. I shuddered and gasped in his hands. I felt myself tighten
around his thrusting member as smaller peaks of pleasure continued to course
through me.

Issander tensed, his moans
combining with mine, and I felt him throb inside me. His hot seed spurted as my
clenching inner walls milked it from him. He thrust haltingly once, twice, then
was still.

We held each other tightly, both
struggling to breathe. I could feel a film of sweat between us, his member
still twitching inside me, and the muscles of his legs shaking. I was aching
inside, but it was nothing to the pleasure I felt. I never wanted to move.

I
n the morning I went with my
prince to watch him at
Kai La
. It was nothing like I'd imagined. A large
group of men were gathered - soldiers and other palace inhabitants. I was
surprised to see Ellys among them, dressed in his usual robes and carrying a
long narrow sword.

The men stood in organized ranks
and performed a routine I couldn't decipher. It was made up of graceful
movements of their swords and bodies, almost resembling a dance.

They seemed to have no leader
instructing them, each knowing the next movement and moving in complete unison
with the group.

I watched Issander move through the
motions, each flourish seemingly as natural to him as breathing.

Gods, he was beautiful. I found
myself smiling, leaning on a pillar well away from the action and out of sight.
I watched him. His face was solemn and serene - he was completely absorbed in
the routine.

After that, we went riding.

The horses were beautiful -
graceful, long legged beasts. I asked to ride behind Issander, not confident of
my ability to handle a horse of my own, but he denied me. He led me to a little
brown filly, promising she was the most docile of beasts.

I needn't have worried. We
started slowly and the filly was indeed very calm. There was a huge swath of
land behind the main palace grounds, and we were soon away from grooms,
groundsmen, soldiers and slaves and all on our own in the great empty field.

The ground was covered in pale
grass and low shrubbery, sandy and dry like most of what I'd seen of Cimbra. It
was nothing at all like the green farmland of home. But the sun was warm and
the air was sweet, and I was happy.

We found a patch of greener land
smattered with a few scrawny trees, and sat to eat the lunch I had organized.
We made love under a tree, and this time it was lazy and sweet and unhurried.

Afterward, he presented me with
a golden arm band inlaid with beautiful opaque green gemstones. I didn't know
when or where he had gotten it, but it was the most valuable thing I'd ever
owned. I embraced him as though I were his lover, not his slave, and he was
kind enough not to remind me of what I really was.

––––––––

I
n the days and weeks that
followed, life settled into a relative routine. I attended the temple,
practiced the Cimbrai language and even learned to read and write some of their
letters.

Atshye instructed me in Iele's
arts, demonstrating on the willing young priest Leander, much to my continual
embarrassment.

I refused to practice on Leander
as she did - for I knew my prince would not approve. I was his, he said, and
his only. But through Atshye's demonstrations I learned many things.

I learned different ways to
stimulate a man's body. They taught me about pain and the ways it could be used
to heighten pleasure. The things I could do with my mouth to pleasure my
master. I learned the art of massage - both erotic and healing. And on, and on.

We moved our dance practice to
the harem where the young women were more than happy to join us. I enjoyed
their company - they were always bright and cheerful. Many of them hoped to
attract husbands at the upcoming feasts, and were filled with a mixture of
excitement and trepidation. With that, I could sympathize.

The seamstresses came and
measured me and started producing beautiful dresses. I liked wearing the
Thessian styles in the Cimbrai fabrics, but Issander liked the less modest
fashions in translucent silks, so I wore those when we were alone or when he
wanted me on display.

The king was well for a time and
we dined with him every night. The king's relatives, here for the feasts,
joined us often. Indari took to bringing Atshye to wait on her - which
surprisingly enough, made things more comfortable.

Issander tried to make an effort
to get along with the queen, for his father's sake. And with more people to act
as a buffer between them, the dinners became lively laughter-filled affairs.

We made a habit of keeping the
king company for a while after the evening meal, when everyone else had left.
Issander always brought me with him.

The king enjoyed my company, he
said, but really I thought the old man just liked looking at me. Perhaps I made
him nostalgic. I didn't mind - I liked him. He was always kind and had a
strange dry sense of humor.

Alone in his chambers, my master
taught me new ways to please him, and learned the best ways to tease me to
distraction.

Our nights were occupied in each
others arms. When my master came home stressed from the events of the day I
would undress him and soothe him with my growing expertise in the "arts of
Iele".

On some nights I would pleasure
him, and then he would leave me wanting. He enjoyed, he said, the way I
pleaded, and the way it made me so pliable.

I didn't mind being tied up or
spanked or even whipped a little, once I was in that state. I'd learned that it
was always incredible when he finally did let me have my release, and the pain
only served to drive me to new heights of pleasure.

It was at these times I thought
I felt the touch of the goddess of desire, and if I cried out to her in the
throes of my passion, Issander never mentioned it.

He gave me freedom within the
palace grounds, allowing me to walk in the garden so long as I had a companion
or a guard with me. I took Atshye when she was free, or another girl. I was
always glad of their company, and it was nice to be away from the eyes of men
for a little while.

Issander converted his small
closet-room into a space for me, filling it with soft cushions and draping the
walls with beautiful tapestries. I kept my few possessions there, and I would
retreat there when my prince was away, reading from my small but growing book
collection, working on the needlework techniques the girls taught me, or
napping on my cushions.

––––––––

T
he summer feasts began - seven
days of great elaborate events, with nobles from all over the kingdom as well
as neighboring royalty coming and going.

Issander's days were occupied
with hunting and visiting with old friends, strengthening alliances and
familiarizing himself with the influential people of the realm.

I was left to my own devices
more than I liked. I tried to keep busy, but I missed spending time with him
during the days. I missed riding out with him, watching his exercises, eating
luncheon with him on the balcony in the sun. But we still had the nights
together.

In the evenings, the royal
family feasted.

At first I did not serve at
table, the feasts being an important formal affair.

But it appeared I'd become
somewhat well-known. The harem girls had told their families about Prince
Issander's foreign pet. One night my master told me, sighing, that many of the
noble men were continuously begging him to bring me.

The last thing I wanted to do
was go. I didn't want to be on display to so many strangers. I didn't want to
see the young princesses and noble women flirting with him, looking at the
handsome heir to the throne and whispering behind their veils. I didn't want to
have to watch him talking to them.

I didn't want to be there when
he finally found the woman who would capture his attention.

I begged him, but the more I
begged the more determined he became. "Eveline," he said, cupping my
chin the way he often did, "what is
wrong
with you?" I normally
enjoyed waiting on him and the king at table, and had never begged so
insistently to be left alone.

I shook my head, unable to
answer. I didn't really know how to articulate my misgivings. So he set his
mouth in a hard line and told me I would go.

Later, I thought, he would
punish me for refusing to answer his question. Perhaps he would tie me and lash
me until it all came spilling out. I almost wished for it. The thought made me
shiver, both in dread and arousal - and it would be easier to tell him if he
were to compel me.

But for now, I had to go.

––––––––

T
he one concession he made was
that I could ask Atshye to come too. If I had to dance for the crowd, I would
do it with her by my side. The queen's slave only had to ask her mistress and
she usually got what she wanted. So we both entered the hall behind our
respective owners.

This was the Great Hall, to
which I had never been. There were hundreds of people seated there – nobles,
officials, diplomats, advisers, royalty and of course the king's family.

The tables were set with gold
and silver plates and goblets, and overflowing vessels of fruit and flowers.
Musicians continually played from a dais, and silver collared slaves rushed
about constantly, carrying trays and glasses. The whole room was lit brightly
by innumerable candles and lanterns. I had never seen such a display of wealth.

The king himself toasted the
visitors, but retired quickly after, having little energy. His place at the
head of the great table remained open, Prince Issander seated at the right.

Five young, royally dressed men
sat opposite my master. Atshye pointed them out to me as we stood, waiting for
the servants to hand us our jugs of wine.

They were the
Ilyat-dana
– which translated to “great princes” – though they were technically not
princes but the scions of the wealthiest and most loyal families of the
kingdom. Three of them had wives who sat with them. The other two, Atshye said,
were likely to find brides here at the palace.

On the right side of the table,
next to my prince, sat several veiled young women. They were with their
fathers, or in some cases their mothers. Some of them were younger than me, and
all pretty and exotic.
How do they eat when their faces are covered?
I
wondered. As I watched I saw that in truth they ate very little – only
occasionally reaching one hand under their veils to place a morsel in their
mouths.

The girls closest to the prince
took every opportunity to lean forward and speak to him, giggling and looking
at him with big eyes. He smiled and nodded and made conversation, every bit the
gracious prince. I tried not to look.

I came forward to fill
Issander's cup when the wine was brought out. He was talking animatedly with
the young men, and while I poured they all fell silent to watch me.

“This is the one we've heard
about?” One asked – a flamboyant young man in a deep yellow tunic.

I gave no sign I understood,
continuing my duties and moving to leave, but Issander stopped me with a hand
on my wrist, and gave me a brief reassuring smile.

It was enough to sustain me as
they all looked at me, admiring my master's taste and expressing their desire
to find a Thessian girl of their own.

Their wives looked on silently,
glancing at me curiously but not letting their gaze linger over-long. The
younger girls at the table talked among themselves, whispering behind their
hands.

I bowed deeply when finally
allowed to leave the table, and held a hand over my abdomen as I rushed away.
My stomach was tied up in knots and I felt queasy.

Atshye looked at me, standing by
the queen at the end of the table. Even from that distance I could see her look
of concern. When she eventually found an excuse to cross the room, she pulled
me aside.

“I am sick,” I told her. “I have
to leave.” The first two courses were over and the guests were circling now,
standing in groups and making conversation. I could not stand to watch my
prince among all the beautiful young women who fought for his attention.

Atshye pursed her lips at me
with what might have been a knowing look, but she nodded. “Go. I will make your
apologies.”

I fled. I knew I ran the risk of
being punished later, but right now I didn't care. Unescorted, I half-ran back
to Issander's rooms, and let myself in. I poured a huge drink of water and
stood taking swallow after swallow.

I ripped at my tight bodice,
loosing the laces so that I could breathe. Only then did a few meager tears
fall.

What was I so upset about? I had
spent the last weeks happy – actually happy – for the first time in many years.
I was a slave, but my master was kind and looked after me. I had enough small
freedoms and I had security. I enjoyed pleasing my prince, and he enjoyed
pleasing me.

My master was to take a wife –
what of it? Some other woman – a
free
woman – would share his bed and
his life. She would be his First. The one he had to please, the one he had to
provide for.

He would forget me, or she would
be jealous and force him to leave me. Or I would spend my days in the harem,
only seeing him once a month when his wife tired of him in her bed.

“What else could I possibly
expect?” I said aloud.

I jumped, my hand flying to my
chest when I heard the knock at the door. I swiftly wiped the back of my hand
across my eyes, hoping I didn't smudge kohl all over my face, and cursing in
Thessian.

I grabbed a silken shawl from
the back of a chair where I'd left it and wrapped it around myself to cover my
open bodice. Just in time, for whoever was knocking did not wait but edged the
door open and entered.

It was a woman, alone. I stood
up straight, clutching my shawl tighter around me. She turned, and I realized
it was the queen. She wore green tonight, with a dark veil and a golden circlet
on her head. Her hair, going to grey in places, was piled artfully on top of
her head, emphasizing her long graceful neck.

“Uh...” I said, ungracefully.
“Your Majesty.”

I bowed low, remembering my
courtesies. Inside, my heart beat a pounding rhythm. What in the world would
bring her here? And unescorted... this could not possibly be a good thing.