Oh yes, he had thought as he watched her masturbate, her movements frantic, her orgasm so strong she nearly broke through the glass to fall down at his feet, Queen Elizabitch would be one hot fuck.
Not long after her sex show, Gavin was released from the stockade. Perhaps she had decided to display her wares to him in person? But instead of setting him free, four guards threw him into an ancient dungeon.
Gavin sat in the cool, damp cell, patiently waiting for someone to come with food or water. He used the time to meditate, to calm himself, and to plan. Years of eastern studies had given him an endless supply of serenity, for which he was now thankful.
Several hours must have passed by the time a heavy key turned in the lock. Gavin stayed seated in a cross-legged position, waiting until the guard entered with a tray of water and food to pounce. He sprung up quick as a cat after a mouse, and kicked the tray from the guard’s hands, sending a second kick straight into the giant’s jaw. Gavin’s aim was dead on—the man would be knocked out cold for five or six hours, but he would feel no serious ill effects when he woke up.
Stripping his clothes off, Gavin rolled the unconscious man over to take his clothes. Dressing the guard in his now worse-for-the-wear jeans, he closed the guard’s thick black belt around his waist. At 6’2”, Gavin was only a couple of inches shorter than the guard—nothing anyone would notice with just a quick look, especially given the baseball cap the man wore over his shaggy hair.
Picking up the keys that had dropped to the floor, Gavin locked the guard into the cell and stepped out into the crisp night air, sucking it into his lungs. Another guard yelled, “How’s the prisoner?”
Gavin pulled his borrowed cap down further over his face and gave the man a thumb’s up.
“She wants you up above,” the man said. “She damn near wore three of us out this morning, but you know the Queen. She can never get enough.”
Gavin nodded and headed in what he hoped to be the right direction, pondering the guard’s words. She can never get enough. She damn near wore three of us out this morning. Gavin was pretty sure the guard wasn’t talking about a game of racquetball. Could it be that the Queen liked the high hard one, and often? Were her guards more than mere bodyguards? Sex slaves, perhaps?
Finally, Gavin stood outside the Queen’s bedroom. The two guards in the hall had barely looked at him once they saw his uniform. Everything was going nicely according to plan, as the first key he tried opened the door to what he assumed were the Queen’s private quarters. He silently stepped inside.
“It took you long enough to get here,” the Queen said angrily, her voice muffled by a wall. “Hurry,” she demanded. “I was about to take care of myself.”
Gavin walked through the thick stone archway towards the sound of her voice, which seemed to be coming through a wall of books and a fireplace. There must be a secret door, he mused and he looked for a way to get in. He had just seen an old movie where the sconces on either side of the fireplace were levers to a trick door. Figuring it couldn’t hurt, he tugged on one.
A thick door slid open as if on pulleys, and Gavin grinned. He had always wondered what living like royalty would be like. He was starting to get a pretty clear picture.
His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light in the windowless room, and he inhaled, smelling the unmistakable scent of female musk. Oh yes, the Queen was definitely a bitch in heat.
“The straps are on the table,” she said, her voice crisp with authority.
Gavin picked up the bundle of leather straps and took several more steps into the room. As he turned a corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. What looked to be a torture rack was set up in the middle of the room. But what was even more astonishing was that his adversary was stretched out upon it stark-naked, her sight masked by a black leather blindfold. The rack was set up such that her head was several feet higher than her perfectly manicured toes.
Gavin had intended to frighten the Queen, to force her to apologize for locking him into the stockade and then the dungeon, not to rape her. He had never forced a woman to have sex with him—the truth was, women usually threw themselves at him—and he wasn’t about to start now.
However, if she was going to beg for it like this, he supposed it would be rude of him not to oblige her, especially given that she had the most fuckable set of tits Gavin had ever seen, unmatched by any porn star. He had been impressed with them through the window, but live and in person they took his breath away. He couldn’t wait to feel their creamy, plump perfection milking his cock as he slid between them, squeezing them against his shaft.
Everything about the Queen screamed of sex. Her smooth waxed pussy gleamed with a fine sheen of her arousal already seeping out between her thighs. He was sure she knew the potent effect she had on men—even those she was paying to have sex with her—given the way she lay upon the rack, with a slight arch to her back, emphasizing the slenderness of her ribcage, and the small circumference of her waist, perfectly showcasing her huge globes to hungry eyes.
Not wasting one second of this precious opportunity, Gavin silently covered the distance separating them and deftly tied up her slender wrists.
“Ouch,” she complained as he tightly tied the restraints. “You’re hurting me, you oaf.”
Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, he thought silently.
“The damn prisoner put me in a bad mood with his arrogance. Who does he think he is? I’m the Queen, goddamn it, and he’ll do as I say. So don’t mess with me today, James. Just make me come and get out.”
Gavin roughly grabbed her ankle, pleased that he had bothered her so much. Elizabeth fought him as he tied up her ankles, trying to wrench her foot away from his firm grasp. He enjoyed watching her breasts heave and jiggle as she tried, unsuccessfully, to wriggle away from him.
“Untie me,” she commanded.
Gavin laughed, a harsh sound that bounced off the walls of the cave-like room.
Elizabeth’s body stiffened. “James?”
Gavin’s voice was smooth as silk. “I’m afraid James couldn’t make it today.”
“Who are you?” Her blindfold masked the fear that Gavin was sure he’d see in her eyes. He was tempted to rip the leather from her face so that he could watch her quivering, see the whites of her eyes grow big as she begged him not to hurt her. As it was, she still sounded much too sure of herself for his liking.
He’d have to make sure to change all that.
Gavin tied the last strong knot around her ankles and admired the plump lips of the Queen’s labia, spread out before him. He slipped one finger into her moist canal. She gasped and her muscles clenched around his fingers. A fresh spurt of liquid surrounded his fingers.
So the little bitch got aroused even when she was in danger? Gavin found that new piece of information to be very interesting.
He slipped his finger out of her pussy. Circling one of her tight nipples with the very tip of his finger, watching himself spread her come onto her puckering areola, he leaned forward until his mouth was touching her ear.
“I am,” he said softly, every word laced with meaningful intention, “your worst enemy.”
Chapter Five
The Queen’s breath stilled and for half a second, Gavin thought she might begin to hurl obscenities at him. Instead, she surprised him with an upturn of her delectable red lips.
“I hope you enjoyed your time in the stockade,” she said, her voice arrogant and far too sure of itself.
Gavin wondered how she dared to mock him when she was in such an indefensible position—with all four limbs tied to the rack, her body his for the taking, in any way he wanted, for however long he desired.
“I’ve been meaning to get some sun,” he said, his voice easy and all the more menacing for the threat it now lacked. “Thank you for the time off.”
His goading worked its magic. Elizabeth tensed again, ready to fight. Her breathing grew labored and her perfect breasts shook beneath his hands, the creamy skin surrou
nding her nipples growing a light shade of pink in her outrage.
“You pig,” she spat. “I’m certain that my guards have probably already discovered that you are missing from your cage. So go ahead and rape me. I dare you. You will pay for your indiscretions.”
Gavin wanted to smack the indignation and superiority right out of her. Oh yes, he would enjoy bringing his hand down onto the flesh of her tight little ass. He would ignore her pleas for him to stop his onslaught. He wouldn’t care if her cheeks got pink and stinging beneath his calloused hands. He would work her over until he was satisfied, her wants and needs be damned.
And the cherry on top would be the hot, wet pussy that he knew would be waiting for him when he was done spanking her sweet little behind.
Because all indicators thus far pointed to the undeniable fact that the Queen liked it rough.
And dirty.
Which, if she wasn’t careful, was exactly what she was going to get.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t shut up yet and Gavin seriously considered shoving one of the pieces of leather into her mouth.
“You are going to lose everything,” she said, as haughty as if she were in full regalia greeting a foreign ambassador, rather than stretched open and in heat on an ancient torture rack.
Gavin wrapped his hands around her breasts, noting with glee that his large hands couldn’t come close to containing them. He squeezed them, measuring their heavy weight in his hands. He was going to blow like a pimply-faced teenager if he wasn’t careful.
Then again, who cared if he exploded after five seconds? He could get it up and come all over her creamy skin ten times if he wanted to. After all, she was at his mercy.
“First of all, my dear,” he said, his voice light and playful, without a care in the world, “I heartily recommend that you get over the notion of your guards coming in to save you.”
“You’re delusional,” she said. “My guards would never leave me in jeopardy.”
Gavin ran one of his fingers down her throat, finally resting it at her pulse point. “Because you are such a joy to work for, I presume? Because you heap them with praise? Or is it because they couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to fuck that tight, juicy pussy of yours?”
Gavin’s taunt hit home as Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed, the flush working its way down her neck to the tops of her phenomenal breasts, her pulse beating wildly beneath his finger.
“Good,” he said. “I like to know that you are afraid of me.”
His words set Elizabeth off like a rocket. “I’m not afraid of you, you lowlife bastard!”
He leaned forward until their lips nearly touched. “As for my second piece of advice, might I suggest, Your Highness,” he said, delighted with the knowledge that her lips were trembling less than an inch away from his, “that you start to behave with a little more circumspection?”
“Fuck you!” she cried.
Gavin chuckled and ran his thumb over her lips. She tried to bite him and he laughed again. “There will be plenty of time for biting later. Just be patient.”
He grabbed her jaw and clamped her mouth shut so he could finish speaking without further interruption. “You see, I wanted to thank you in person for that titillating strip tease you did this afternoon. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone come quite so hard before.”
Lowering his voice to barely a whisper, he added, “Now it’s my turn.”
* * * * *
Elizabeth was scared shitless. She hated being powerless. After twenty-five years in control of everyone and everything around her, she balked at even five minutes under someone else’s control.
But none of her dismay at her current predicament did anything to change the facts.
Fact: Somehow her prisoner—the one she had spontaneously sent into the stockade and then had locked into the ancient dungeon—had escaped.
Fact: He was definitely going to kill her.
Fact: After raping her, that is.
The worst part of it all, however, was that even though she knew she could be taking her last breath at any moment, she still wanted desperately for him to fuck her. She had to stop herself from begging him to suck her nipples, to slip his hand between her legs and massage her engorged clit.
Elizabeth couldn’t bear the thought of denying herself pleasure. She cared not the slightest bit whether her guards came—in fact, half the time they were still rock hard when she dismissed them. But it was vitally important to her, a live-or-die situation, really, that her needs were always sated.
Whatever the reason, it wasn’t difficult to allow herself to give in to the sensual onslaught being dosed out by her prisoner. Can I help it if I’m powerless to fight the need that dominates me? she thought.
At least if she was going to die today, she would die a well-pleasured woman. She nearly smiled at the thought.
She felt Gavin’s tongue lave her nipple and moaned. Oh yes, that’s what she wanted from him. She was eager to feel his hot breath work its way down her body to her cunt. She was more than ready for him, slick and pink, and dying for the nine or ten inches between his legs.
Now that she had decided to give in to his torment, to enjoy every last orgasmic moment she had on earth, she relished her excitement, which only seemed to grow with every quiet threat he delivered. Already, she was so much more aroused than she would have been with her guard, James. No doubt about it, her usual sex games had gotten old.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asked her, his voice thick with lust as he moved his searing lips to her other breast.
She moaned again in response, her lips and tongue unable to form words as her prisoner found purchase at the tips of her sensitive, puckering areolas. The stubble on his chin scraped the delicate undersides of her breasts and his fingers lightly ran down her belly.
She tried to arch her pelvis into his hand, but she was so tightly strapped into the archaic torture rack she couldn’t move more than an inch.
“Should I taste your pussy?” he murmured into her stomach, as he dropped his lips to her belly and licked a path between her ribs. He dipped his tongue into her belly button and she whimpered. Hot liquid flooded her cunt at the thought of his mouth coming down over her mound, at the vision of his tongue lightly flicking at her clit. Elizabeth couldn’t help but be amazed by how little Gavin was doing to turn her on so much.
It must be the danger, she decided, barely able to keep a coherent thought in her head. With the threat of harm real this time—as opposed to the well-choreographed scenes with her bodyguards—fucking was so much better.
She didn’t for one second believe that the man himself was responsible for her inflamed reaction. All men were interchangeable. She had always found that no matter how exciting they were in the beginning, she was soon bored silly by them.
She trembled with anticipation as his teeth nipped at her lower belly. She knew her newly waxed mound was glistening with her come, and she wanted her prisoner to taste it. To lap it up between his full, masculine lips.
His tongue found the opening of her slit and slid warm and coarse past her engorged clit, separating her stretched lips even further, and into her vagina. Long and deft, it stroked her walls. Elizabeth was on the verge of her best orgasm ever.
Suddenly, a blast of cold air covered her body.
Her prisoner must have stood up. “Please,” she begged him. “I’m so close.”
She hated the sound of her usually powerful voice beseeching him to finish her off, but she couldn’t bear not to come. Not when he had had her on the edge of such a promising orgasm.
He could fuck her for days, any way he wanted, if only he would let her explode against his tongue.
She heard him undo the buckle on his belt. Elizabeth hoped, no, prayed, that he was unleashing his cock. That he had stopped sucking at her cunt because he was planning to ram his penis into her. She held her breath, waiting for the sound of his zipper, and panted in anticipation of feeling his thick shaft on her belly.
>
“It can be painful to be so close to getting what you want and then having it ripped away, don’t you think Elizabeth?” His voice was soft, almost a caress.
Elizabeth shook her head violently. “Go ahead and rape me,” she pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
She hoped her pledge would make a difference, would convince him to fuck her, but no such luck.
Instead, what she assumed to be the metal buckle on his belt swept up the inside of her leg, from her ankle, past her calf, then knee, and up the moist, sensitive skin on her inner thigh.
She whimpered and bit the inside of her lip. Maybe he was just going to tease her for a little while longer, she thought. Maybe he didn’t want her to come until he had worked her up into a fever pitch?
Oh yes, her prisoner was so much better than her guards, who would have kowtowed to her demands to come, too afraid to deny her anything, even if it meant a mind-blowing release.
Less than an inch from the folds of her cunt, Gavin repeated his actions on her other leg. From ankle, to calf, to knee, to thigh. Elizabeth knew that if the belt buckle so much as flitted across her clit she would come.
“Don’t stop there,” she implored him. “Just another inch or two higher.”
But instead of giving her what she wanted, instead of the feel of cool metal dragging over her clit, she heard the belt crash loudly against the stone wall.
“No,” she cried, wishing that Gavin hadn’t thrown the belt away, when he could have put it to such good use between her legs.
“I can’t wait any longer,” she said, no longer caring how pathetic she sounded. She had never begged any man to screw her, not once in the past ten years. But then again, her every sense had never been this inflamed. She was sure she’d never been more ready for a man’s cock, never more ready to dive over the edge into a boundless orgasm.
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