Princess Chapter 1 (1/6)
 sf mf m-dom oral


As always she was awake and dressed when I arrived at her cell. I had
allowed her her privacy and had kept her serving girls with her throughout
her ordeal, mostly to avoid trouble, but also because I found her gracious
and thoughtful. She had never made any demands of me and accepted her
captivity in such a way that it was easy for me to be kind to her. Over the
past three weeks I had visited her daily, first to obtain information needed
for a ransom demand, then later because I found her a truly engaging and
witty conversationalist. We spoke of her life in the Royal Court of Isalla
and I told her of my love of the sea. We played at cards and chess. I
enjoyed being with her and though I took no pleasure in the hurt this new
news would bring her I could not suppress my satisfaction that she would
not, in fact, be leaving.

"Greetings, Pirate," she welcomed me, her veiled head dipping slightly,
acknowledging the fact that though she was Royalty she was my prisoner.

"Princess, I hope you are well this morning." I motioned to her two
servants, beautiful girls of sixteen or seventeen, "Leave us," I commanded.
They exchanged eager looks and quickly withdrew. The Princess laughed with
genuine amusement.

"My father insisted I have virgins to serve me, thinking they would aide in
keeping my thoughts chaste. I don't think I should ever see two girls more
pleased to be collared than those two."

"Really? Were they not already slaves, even though they wore no collars?"

"True, but they were sequestered with me and were ignorant, until your men
captured our vessels. Please, sit. I will serve you tea since you have
dismissed my girls."

"You are kind, Princess," I sighed as I took a seat by the low table in the
center of the room. A cell is a cell, but this one was at least comfortably
appointed. She fetched cups and poured steaming brew before reclining across
the table from me. Her blue/grey eyes looked inquisitively out from over her
veil.

"You have an answer from my father?" she asked.

"Yes, Princess. Your father has refused to ransom you, I am sorry."

Her only reaction was a brief tremble as she lifted her cup, then set it
down. "I am not entirely surprised," she whispered, stopping a moment to
compose herself, "I am after all his third daughter."

I would have expected bitterness from any other woman, but she said it
matter-of-factly, without any venom. Still, she was obviously upset.

"Would you care to be alone? I would be willing to return later..." "No,
no...you have already been too kind. I want to know, what happens now?"

"There is little to be gained for us by remaining here. We sail on the
morning tide. Tonight there will be a feast and you will present yourself
before me."

"As your slave?"

"If you so choose. I extend to you the right to choose the Silver Cup."

"You are most kind..." she whispered, then fell silent. I understood then
that she needed privacy and excused myself. I had offered her the right to
refuse to become my slave, to choose death over the collar. Since my people
were at war with the Isallana I could have collared her as war booty, but I
had come to respect her and I would never have felt right about simply
forcing her in to bondage. Besides, so much more enticing was the thought
that she might want to be my slave. Of course, being of Royalty and raised
as a Princess it was possible she would choose to die...but I would deal
with that if and when it arose.

I busied myself by dividing up the spoils of our work amongst my men. Until
the ransom demand was rejected all but the slaves had been kept as free
women prisoners. There had been three round ships loaded with treasure and
the bridal party as well as four heavy escorts. My new trimaran raiders had
cut them up well enough and we had actually captured one of the ramships. Of
slave-girls we captured twenty-one and they were divided amongst my four
crews. The bridal party consisted of the Princess and fifteen Ladies In
Waiting. The Princess had privileges, but the Ladies were simply captives
whom I had left unmolested. Now I took the time to select out five as prizes
for my captains, the remaining ten would be chained with the other slaves- I
owned a brothel in Tah-Roh-Sek, the practice would prepare them for that..
It was a busy day and before I knew it the feast was being set.

"Bring her out," I told my second after I'd eaten and had some refreshment.
The feast was well under way, most of the terrified female screaming was
over- there was but one virgin remaining, and she approached me across the
clearing. I had no idea what her choice would be, but she was clad in a
long, sheer white robe, perhaps some kind of undergarment for it was too
thin and clingy to be a normal garment. She was hooded and veiled, her veil
of the same material as her gown. Her breasts were clearly outlined by her
garment and the shape of her body was quite evident as well. She moved with
ease and grace as the revelers fell silent. I saw her recognition as she
spied her friends, some in mid-rut with their new masters. She strode to the
indicated spot before me and stopped.

"Pirate," she greeted me with a nod.

"Princess. Have you considered my offer?"

"Yes, and I thank you for the kindness you have shown in extending the
option."

"You are welcome. Now I must ask you to choose." I can't begin to do justice
to the turmoil I felt at that moment. She would choose life or death and I
desperately wanted her to choose life, to choose me. I, a man accustomed to
taking that which I wanted, particularly where women are concerned, found
that her choice was more important to me than anything else at that moment.
I knew then that if she chose to die I would allow it. The moment seemed to
drag on for eons...

She reached up to her shoulder and tugged on the loop that supported her
garment. Slowly, silky smooth the garment peeled away from her, the hood and
veil falling first then the remainder dropping away to reveal a stunning
lovely young woman of nineteen or twenty with rich chestnut hair spilling
over smooth, squared shoulders framing a finely chiseled nose and full,
sweet lips. The firm, rounded mounds of her breasts were peaked with small,
up-turned nipples that were now quite erect. Her waist was trim, her belly
flat, but with the sweet bulge of feminine softness in her abdomen. Her hips
swelled in to perfect curvature, then swept down to two long, shapely legs
with slim ankles and perfectly formed feet. She stood nude before my men and
I and suddenly some one began to whistle. Soon others joined in until the
night air was filled with the trill of men applauding true feminine beauty..
I allowed the applause to continue a moment before raising my hand for
silence.

My heart nearly stopped as she slowly fell to her knees before me. She
lowered her head until it nearly touched the ground, then raised her arms up
over her head, crossed as if for binding.

"I am your slave, Master," she whispered, intoning the ritual phrase of
submission. I stood, moving with deliberate ease as I took up the collar and
manacles that I had set by my side. The manacles I secured about her wrists,
then I took her hands in mine and urged her to her feet. Her eyes remained
lowered as I brushed her long hair to one side and slipped the golden ring
of the collar about her neck. She flinched slightly as the lock closed with
an audible click.

"Kneel, slave." She obeyed silently, settling to her knees in the position
of a Pleasure Slave, knees about a foot apart, sitting back on her heels,
hands palms-down atop her thighs. "What are you?" I asked.

"A slave girl, Master."

"Who owns you?"

"You do, Master?"

"What is your name?"

"Master has given me no name."

"I shall call you Princess."

"My name is Princess, Master. Princess is your slave." "Rise, slave."

She obeyed and I unceremoniously scooped her up in my arms, the girl crying
out as she suddenly found herself naked and helpless in a man's grasp. I
kissed her, full and hard on her mouth, a kiss that I held long as I felt
her response, timid at first, then bolder as she calmed. A great cheer went
up from my men as I turned and carried her towards my tent, there to enjoy
my new slave in privacy.

There were thick furs piled in my tent and I deposited Princess there,
descending upon her as she sank back in the furs, eyes wide, lips trembling.
Warm, firm and soft in my arms she responded warmly as I kissed and caressed
her, knowing that never had male hands been laid upon those lovely curves.
After some long minutes of this I rolled to my side and sought out the flask
of Slave's Wine I had set aside for her.

"On your knees," I said and she complied readily. Her hair was a bit mussed
now, she was breathing deeply, her firm young breasts rising and falling
with her repirations. Her eyes were bright, her skin glowing with her
arousal, she was even more beautiful than I had ever dared to imagine. I
uncapped the flask and handed it to her.

"Drink, all of it." She took the flask and put it to her lips, wrinkling her
nose at the strong scent of it. Her eyes looked questioningly and I simply
gestured for her to proceed. She tipped back the flask and drank quickly,
coughing as she finished and I took the flask from her. "That was Slave's
Wine, girl. It prevents conception. Unless you are specifically told
otherwise you will drink a flask of this every week, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she replied, but there was a question in her eyes.

"Ask your question, girl."

"Master, what is conception?"

I was so surprised by the question that I simply stared at her for a moment.
I should have realised that her education, as deep as it was, would lack
certain details. She had been a girl of high standing after all, her family
would not have wished her to have what might be considered "improper"
knowledge. I smiled at her.

"I'll explain tomorrow. Now, help me undress."

Her hands shook as she helped me open the buckles and ties of my tunic, her
eyes dropping almost reflexively as I drew off my garment and tossed it to
one side. I took her manacled writsts and drew her hands to my loins. Gently
she gripped my organ.

"It's so hard..." she whispered.

"Quiet, Princess," I replied as I drew her closer, turning her so she sat on
her hip in my lap, then drawing her lips to mine again. My free hand slid up
and down her luscious body for some time then I moved down to stroke between
her thighs. Her body tensed as I probed her and found her promisingly moist
to my touch. She gasped, her hands gripping my flesh more firmly as I
explored her sex, the lips of her vagina slick and hot around my teasing
fingers. She moaned, softly, her body twisting as she drank in the
sensations. Slowly, carefully I worked her up to greater levels of arousal
until she was quivering with excitement.

Without speaking I urged her to move off my lap then moved up on to my knees
as I drew her face down until she knelt on all fours before me.

"Open your mouth, slave," I ordered. She obeyed and I simply guided her open
lips to my flesh. She nearly balked, but my hands were firm on her head and
she took my cock in her mouth, her sweet lips closing around my shaft as she
performed her first sexual act. At my gentle urging she moved her mouth down
my cock, her tongue licking timidly along the underside, tasting my manhood,
sucking her master's cock. I thrust slowly through the ovalled lips of my
slave, enjoying the sensation for a few minutes before drawing her away and
rolling her to her back in the furs.

She settled back, her thighs opening wide in ready submission as I moved
atop her, bringing the moistened head of my organ up against the slickly
ready lips of her virgin loins. Holding her firmly down by the shoulders I
forever ended any chance of her returning to her old life with a simple
forward thrust of my hips, my cock splitting apart the petals of her sex as
she gasped, groaned, her virginal flesh yeilding easily, engulfing me in the
hot slippery vice of her vagina as I drove deeper, deeper until I was buried
to the hilt within my luscious young slave girl. She took it all without
protest, offering up her sex without heasitation or reservation, as a
slave-girl should.

Moving with gentle, firm strokes I worked my organ inside her as I settled
down upon her, my mouth seeking out hers and finding it warmly receptive. My
hands on her thighs guided her legs up and back until she had them locked
high up around my hips, then I slid my grasp to her hips, guiding her
tentative motions until she was meeting my thrusts easily, naturally, a
woman in complete submission to her master.

I've made love to many slaves, and had several virgins, but I never enjoyed
a woman the way I enjoyed my Princess. Hot and sweet and loving she seemed
to revel in the act of serving me, her pleasure clearly in evidence from her
cries and the passionate motions of her body beneath me. I rode her, finding
the rythm of her desire, filling her deeply, her loins clutching rythmically
at my thrusting flesh as her pelvis moved more and more urgently, her
pleasure rising, her body quivering as her climax built slowly, inexorably
towards its peak.

Her orgasm seemed to shock her, a high long wail of feminine pleasure
gushing from her lips as her spine arched, her legs clutching tightly about
my hips as her sweet pussy clamped down tightly around my aching, thrusting
cock. That was all it took for me, the sweet caress of her sex sending hot
lines of pulsating delight coursing through my organ as I drove to my balls
inside her, consumating my enslaving of her, my seed pouring into her in a
white-hot eruption of ecstacy...