Forced To Kill The Prince

by Hollie Hutchins

  The other, of course, is when they give up their power to someone else. The desire to be dominated is hardly unusual. Some people crave a master to tell them what to do, to be subservient to them. Some desire losing control, especially if they conduct their lives in a strong measure of control. Others still, find a thrill in putting their lives at someone else's mercy, for them to do as they desire. It's like the rush as one jumps off the edge of a cliff, eventually landing in the ocean. The adrenaline that reminds us just how alive we truly are.

  Under this wad of text came a beautiful inked picture, depicting a naked woman tied up, as a man in a mask held a knife to her skin. The threat to the woman's life, her powerlessness, was a clear example of what the book tried to explain, when it came to the dynamics of control. The sadist and the masochist. The woman was not a victim, but a willing participant. Someone who had chosen to let this happen to her.

  I can't pretend I agree with all the thoughts behind the book. But I can understand some of the sentiments behind the words. I think I can relate to the idea of punishing yourself for something. And I understand the power of trust, as well. Giving that to someone is like relinquishing power to someone else, and handing them untold power. That's scary and exciting at the same time.

  The more I read, the more I knew that I wasn't as innocent as I suspected. I rejected the worst of the fetishes I read. They did nothing for me. But the general idea of being dominated, of losing that control to someone else, to have those swift stings of pain layered over with pleasure... I could imagine that.

  And I frequently did.

  Funny though, that I imagined things like this at night, yet the thought of marrying a dragon infuriated me. I called them beasts, but I also know... somewhere... a part of me doesn't want to be put in a scenario where my imagination has a chance of coming to life. Because from what I've heard of the dragons, which is very little, they have that primal, magnetic charm to them. Something that lures innocent princesses into their lairs. They deliberately choose human forms that are considered attractive to human females. They deliberately exude that kind of sexual attraction from their pores.

  And I'm partially afraid that if I'm here for too long, I'll end up submitting to my own fantasies.

  It's already beginning, as it is. I'm already losing myself, and all sense of propriety, the longer I remain in this place. Not being watched by the eyes of my judgemental parents, the stuffy advisers, the adoring populace who seem to think the rainbow can shine out of my ass, that sense of pressure lessens.

  Leaving me wanting to get the sex with Ash out of the way as soon as possible. I steel myself. I take deep breaths, and mentally prepare for whatever is facing me behind that door.

  I can handle it.

  The goblins don't bother clothing me up properly. They drape a dressing gown around me, leaving me one easy tug away from being completely naked. That sends a thrill of anticipation through my bones. An itch occurs between my thighs, and I bit my lip hard. Picturing Ash's handsome face, those cool features and violet eyes helps. Yes. I can do this.

  I'll find what joy out of this situation as I can. I don't expect myself to start loving Ash. This is for all intents and purposes, an arranged marriage. No one in these kinds of marriages learns to love one another instantly. They develop it over time.

  With my bare feet pacing over the stone tiling beneath, I open the door, and walk into the designated living room of Ash's cavern.

  My eyes pop out when I realize he's not alone.

  Sitting opposite Ash, in a dark leather armchair, is the human form of the golden dragon.

  Both dragons turn to look at me. And I'm standing there with damp hair, one breeze away from being completely naked, a few drops of water slithering down my leg.

  My throat lets out a strangled squeak of surprise.

  Chapter Three

  “I see you failed to mention that I'd be coming,” the golden man says to Ash. His hair is flaxen, soft looking. Luminous yellow eyes gleam from his face. He's handsome in a different way to Ash. Where Ash has that arrogance, that nobility to him, the golden has a casual nonchalant way of sitting, as if he doesn't care about what anyone else thinks. His hair is scruffy, like a mop, and his face is finely curved, almost feminine in nature. Ash is thicker than him. He is more slender more... beautiful, somehow.

  My eyes flit between the two of them, trying to let my brain catch up to what's happening.

  “Does master Garion wish to have any needs accommodated to?” Gon bows before the golden man, eager to take orders.

  “I'm fine,” Garion says, “but thank you.” He then turns his attention to me. “What has Ash said to you?”

  “Honestly?” I try to act casual, even though my cheeks are on fire. “Nothing. He just sent me into the bathroom.”

  “For fuck's sake,” Garion growls, rubbing his face. “You explained nothing? She's your wife now. She's entitled to know certain things.”

  “Hmph.” Ash's eyes narrow. “Very well. Princess. Princess Alera,” he adds, when Garion and I glare at him indignantly, “I'm not single.”

  I blink. My heart turns to ice. My husband isn't single? “What do you mean?”

  Now Garion smiles grimly, his affable features turning hard. “He means that I'm his partner.”

  Oh. Oh. Okay, then.

  I was not expecting that. At all. Instantly, images rush to my head of the books I've examined, and the depictions of same sex relationships. Rare, but not unheard of. Certainly unheard of when it comes to royalty, because royalty is expected to fill certain obligations.

  Things click into place. Why Ash's family might push him away from the throne. If he's discovered to be gay, and not interested in princesses, then that would make him theoretically unfit to have an heir. And no one would ever be permitted to marry the same sex. Ever.

  The fact that I'm standing there, not freaking out, causes Garion to appear confused. “Are you not disgusted, princess?”

  “Why would I be?” I say. “It makes sense now. Why he's being so... on edge when he addresses me.”

  “I'm not on edge,” Ash snaps, which makes us, including Gon and Meldin stare sceptically at him. He amends his statement. “Perhaps... I am.”

  “He didn't want to do this at all,” Garion explains, now getting off the sofa and walking up to me. “He was actually considering just running off with me into that beautiful sunset, maybe settle in a nice swamp somewhere. Except he knows full well that he wouldn't be able to escape the Vorin royal family – and that without the magical protection of the Sunspring Mountains, people will do anything for royal dragon blood, bones, and organs. Valuable magic resources. The most powerful weapons in the world are made from the bodies of dead dragons. He insists we'll be fine... but I'm practical on the matter.” Garion stops in front of me, his eyes briefly trailing to the dip where my gown goes. To where the hint of my breasts reveal themselves.

  “You don't seem disgusted. Why is this?”

  I shrug. I don't plan to reveal my extracurricular reading habits to these dragons. “I feel like I should be, but I'm not. Is that why you forfeited the match to him? I saw the fight. You weren't trying at all.”

  Garion's lips twitch in a smile, and he tugs at his white and gold embroidered shirt by the neck. “Yes. He needed to secure a wife. We knew you were coming of age, and I had to persuade him all that time to consider it. That we can continue our clandestine romance. To the rest of the kingdom, they'll see a proper dragon and his princess.”

  I see Ash now shaking his head, eyebrows scrunched in hot fury. “I really don't care. I'd rather risk death than concede to what my family expect.”

  There's a strange parallel here between him and me. I see that now. This beast doesn't want an arranged marriage either. And his friend, no, lover – persuaded him to do so. To protect him.

  I've been dumped in the middle of some obscure dragon drama. And now I'm rubbing my eyes, trying to make sense of it. “I assume you want me to produce heir
s.”

  “Ideally,” Garion says, though there's a hint of pity in his eyes. I hate that pity. I want to slap it off his face. “But just having his family know you're his wife will stave off the pack. You'll be expected to present yourself as soon as possible, tell the king what you think of his son...”

  I find myself nodding. I had completely expected to be taken to some monster's lair and ravaged. I didn't anticipate the idea that the dragons had their own kingdom structure, their royals, their little conflicts. It's more human like than anything else. Which makes me wonder – is the dragon their real form, or the human?

  The cavern has been designed for both. The bed is human sized, so is the kitchen and living room, though a dragon can also waddle through it. The bathroom, however, is fully human. A dragon couldn't scrape their way through that little door and low ceiling walls.

  Interesting. So they wear their human forms a lot. Perhaps they even conduct most of their affairs in human form.

  Ash stares at me with flinty eyes. He doesn't want to go through with this. I suspect not consummating with the bride on the first night will be seen as a mark of weakness to him. I breathe in courage, as Ash finally says, “Let's get to it. Goblins, you may leave now. Enjoy yourselves. Have a drink or three on me.”

  “Yes, kind master,” Gon says, bobbing his head furiously. “Right away.” He and the other goblins, about six of them in total, squeal excitedly to one another in that incomprehensible language of theirs, and soon leave the room.

  I notice that Garion isn't leaving, and with a bolt of realization, I realize that maybe Ash needs, well... help. Because if he's gay... maybe he'll have troubles getting it up with a woman.

  Well, isn't this just fantastic. Will that mean he'll be in the room. That they'll do it first with one another, then turn to me?

  Or will they both take me?

  “I will help,” Garion says. “You have about ten seconds to protest this arrangement. If not, we're starting. It has to be done.”

  My lips stay tight for the whole ten seconds. I don't plan to protest this. I want to see where it goes. I imagine most virgins would hyperventilate at something like this. Not me. Not with the knowledge I hold. Not with the... things I've done to myself under the bedsheets at night. The things I've dreamed of.

  I might be a virgin. But I'm not a nun.

  Without protests, I watch in a certain morbid fascination as Garion walks up to Ash. Garion seems as if he has the more open heart of the two. Ash's heart is closed, locked to people like me. When they bring their lips together to kiss, jolts of energy attack my body, and coil in my stomach. Wow.

  Watching them brush lips with one another, before using their palms to cup each other's faces is... quite something.

  And far better than stationary pictures. Hear rushes to my cheeks, searing the blood in them. I have to resist the temptation to fan my face as they ramp up the kiss. Their mouths move with practised rhythm, and their bodies shift with one another, closing the distance, rocking up and down to create friction.

  I can't believe how much this is effecting me! Already, I sense my nipples pebbling behind the robes. My breaths come out hot, and I have to breathe faster, since my heart clearly thinks I'm running a marathon at this point. They slowly make their way to the bedroom, and I follow. It's less... intimidating, to see them start it first. Knowing my turn will come. Knowing that when my turn comes, I'll be aroused to the point where it's hard to keep track of my thoughts. The emotions make me want to go over there right now, and get purple and yellow eyes upon me. I consider peeling off my gown. I consider it for a few moments, my fingers toying with the soft belt, or slightly moving the material over my breasts.

  I consider all these things, and it turns me on even more. Walking is awkward, because my bundle of nerves rubs as I do so. In that irritating, itchy way that makes me want to reach down there and prod at it, except if I do, it'll end up making me lose further control of myself. Out of all the places to have an itch. Seriously.

  Well. If I had to lose my virginity, losing it like this, with these two sculptural beings can't be the worse thing that's ever happened.

  As long as they turn to me at some point in the equation.

  Ash lets out a groan, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, as Garion reaches into his pants, past the underwear there, and begins massaging his erection, strengthening it. Garion's wholly focused on his lover here, and it's as if I've been forgotten. At least, until he looks at me with those glazed eyes, that flushed face, and I shiver.

  “Get on the bed, princess,” Garion says. Ash's eyes snap open, the violet of them almost vanished in lust. He looks at me as I saunter over to the bed, taking my sweet time, deliberately swaying my hips. I crawl up onto the bed and scramble along it, careful not to reveal anything I shouldn't.

  I see Garion and Ash exchange one of those deep, saturated looks, the kind that I think make people drown – and then Ash heads over to me. His face is tight, his eyes are slits. Is he nervous? I detect a faint tremor in his arms, and he makes fists. The knuckles pale. The bones show through the skin as he reaches me.

  He's not taken his pants off yet, but I see the noticeable bulge. Ash positions himself to the side, probably wanting to keep Garion in view.

  “It's okay,” Garion says softly, encouraging Ash. “Don't worry about me.”

  The prince growls at me, staring with cold eyes, before he rips off the towel, revealing my naked body. His eyes trail over my body for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. Then, grabbing my hair, he turns me around, forcing me to my knees. My hands plant onto the mattress, and he spreads my legs wide. My front is facing Garion. My back's to Ash.

  Wait. This is fast. He's not even going to slow down when he does it? He's not going to look into my face?

  Then again, I suppose I should have expected this. Just as well I'm already turned on, already prepared to feel him inside me.

  I hear him tugging down his pants behind me, before closing the gap. His erection rubs against me, before he lowers it, and pushes himself into me, hard.

  I let out a gasping scream. I'm wet – wetter than expected, but it has that mix of pain and pleasure, because I've never had someone inside me before; aside from my fingers. He's not prepared me. He's just taken me. I feel myself stretching as he does so, and his hands grasp my scalp. I let out a whimper as his teeth scrape along my neck. His palms now grasp my breasts and squeeze hard, massaging them. He continues to pound inside me, hard and fast, and the odd mix of pain and pleasure stirs something inside me that I never expected.

  My cheeks burn. My mind is sluggish. My heart pulses fast. And, to my utter delight, I feel myself getting wetter, breathing faster. I don't want this, but I want it at the same time. I don't want him to just take me with force, but I also do.

  I want to be utterly dominated. Shown no mercy. Taken like a whore, someone worthless.

  Why?

  I let out a gasp of protest, and his hands continue to scrap along my front. It's also embarrassing and arousing, to know he's doing this in front of Garion. Ash is being rough – deliberately rough, I suspect. Maybe trying to get it over with as fast as he can, though that will be a shame for me, because I'm only just getting started.

  “Come here,” Ash orders Garion, and the golden haired man obeys. His yellow eyes examine me with a curious expression. Half jealously, half lust. Ash hisses into my ear. “You will suck him off. Suck him until you can't take any more.”

  I again feel that shivering thrill, that depravity coursing through me. The arousal lights up my brain, causes my every limb to shiver. My mouth waters at the prospect, and my heart beats faster, fast enough that I wonder if it can leap through my mouth, because the pulse is loud in my head, thumping my eardrums.

  Being taken from two sides. Being filled up – both ends. I am not a princess at this point. I am an object. A bag of pleasure, to give and receive. I am nothing. No titles, no importance, not when it comes to sex. I am like a whore.

&n
bsp; And for some fucked up reason, I love it.

  I love not being important. It's as if some primal beast has awoken inside me. Perhaps from the scent of Ash's body, which is sharp and spicy. Perhaps from the way he dominates me. Perhaps from watching two guys get themselves off, and kiss like men who know they are close to death, and want everything each other has left to give.

  I want more. I crave more.

  Garion acts a little hesitant, as if unwilling to make me suffer, but he doesn't know the darkness that courses in my veins. He doesn't know the greed in my heart, filling my mouth and core. He doesn't know that under my skin, under that prim and proper princess attitude, is a whore just begging to be fucked.

  This is not for everyone. Other people might find what I do and think as awful, as twisted. For me, it's exhilarating and freeing to be able to allow this to happen.