by Loki Renard
After an ignominious banishment from the palace, Maxim and Sabine found themselves many hundreds of miles away from the royal castle, in a little rural part of Ere where nobody knew of them or their previous positions.
Sabine had been certain that she would be recognized over and over again, but she soon learned that though her name had been on everyone’s lips for most of her life, nobody had known her for her at all. Peasants they came across called her comely and gave an appreciative glance, but little more. There were no great celebrations, no falling on their faces and bursting into tears as they had done when she had once been taken on a brief tour at the age of fourteen.
The transition from princess of the realm to peasant without merit was rough. These were worlds that were far further apart than Ere and the Other World. When she had first left Ere and found herself in Nile territory, she was still a woman of value. People had recognized that and clustered about her, and then she had been found, protected, taken to Centillion territory. It had all been exciting and luxurious.
There was no more luxury.
Their shelter was a shack with a dirt floor, their food was scavenged from nearby fields and caught in the woods and occasionally fished up out of the river. She now wore the cut-down remnants of the very dress she had been cast out of the castle in. Maxim had slashed the fabric just above her knees and removed the sleeves, leaving her with something light to move in. The extra fabric had been put to good use as a net for fishing, bandages for small wounds, and a wrap for fruits and root vegetables.
Once the initial relief of being free of Isodor wore off, Sabine found she did not know how to feel about the outcome. She had gotten what she wanted. She was not married to Isodor. She was not trapped in the castle, a prisoner of her own station. She was free. At least, as free as she could be with no power and no money and no possessions. And that was the rub of it all.
She was no longer anyone of any note. Her father’s lineage had ended and she was no longer of any importance. Now that she was deprived of the thing she had been fleeing, she began to realize just how wonderful it had all been.
It had been a luxury to have something to run away from. Most of the people she and Maxim met had never been sought after for marriage, had never been kept in any sense. Even the prettiest peasant women were still peasants with little to look forward to but tilling the fields and sleeping in rough beds.
Thinking glum thoughts, Sabine sat on a roughhewn stool, gnawed on a root, and cast a glance over at Maxim. He did not seem to share her misery one little bit. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying this rustic existence for all its simplicity and hardship. He was at the table he had created from a felled log, working on a hunting snare. She could see contentment on his handsome features, long since healed from the beating he had received at the hands of Isodor’s guards.
Rough living had dulled her beauty, but it had made him more handsome. Dark growth on his jaw and chin matched with the ruddy color of the sun made his green gaze all the more piercing, and the hard work of survival had carved his body into an even more fine specimen. Sabine was not pleased with what it had done to her, her fingernails always filled with mud, her hair rough from exposure to the elements, her knees dirty because no matter how many times she threw herself into the river she always had to clamber up the bank to leave. Sometimes she wondered how it was he still loved her, now that she was nothing and nobody.
Her thoughts wandered back to the events of the final day in the castle. Their banishment had been so abrupt and so complete she had not truly come to terms with it as yet. There were so many questions. Questions she was only just beginning to find the nerve to ask.
“What is it, pet?” Maxim put the snare down and cast a long look at her. He had picked up on her mood many times, but she had always said that all was well, lying when necessary. She knew she was a spoiled princess. She knew she should be deliriously happy simply to be free of the evil Isodor and to find love in Maxim’s arms, but this was not the life she had ever imagined for herself, and it did not suit her temperament in the slightest.
There were two times when she could forget the filthy simplicity of it all: when she slept, and when he took her in his arms and made thorough love to her. Then she forgot all about shacks and hovels, palaces and castles. When he plunged himself inside her, when he kissed her, when she forgot herself and gave her body to him, then she was free. But the morning always came, and when it did, it was the same dirt floor that needed to be swept, and the same thatch that attracted little insects to make their homes, and the same cool wind that was never quite stopped by the thin walls.
“Nothing is wrong,” she lied as she had lied many times before.
“Your misery is quite obvious,” he said. “The longer you pretend that you are happy, the longer it will take for anything to change.”
She looked at him curiously. “What do you mean? What can change?”
“Everything,” Maxim said, stretching his long legs out in front of him and folding his arms over his chest. “Everything and anything, Princess.”
“Don’t call me that. It’s not true anymore.”
“It’s not true you’re a princess? Yes, it is. Just because a usurper sits on the throne, it does not mean that you’re no longer who you are. You were born princess of this realm.”
It was so strange to hear cultured tones coming from the man clad in sewn animal skins. He looked as rough and ready as any woodsman, but when he spoke she was reminded of his nobility above all things.
“All I am is princess of this dirt shack.”
He said nothing, just looked at her with that intelligent gaze that made her certain he knew something she didn’t.
“How did they capture you?” She didn’t know why she was asking the question. It just suddenly mattered very much to ask it.
“They didn’t,” he said. “I surrendered myself once you were taken. I returned to the Centillion enclave, and went to the Nile border.”
“You could have been killed!”
“It was the only way to be taken to you,” he said. “It was a gamble I was willing to take.”
She lowered her gaze, feeling guilty for the thoughts that were running through her mind. “Perhaps you should have just let Isodor take me.”
Maxim shot her a keen glance. “Is that what you wanted? To be Isodor’s bride?”
“No,” she said, biting the word out. “Of course not. Everything I did was trying to avoid that outcome… but…”
“But this was not what you wanted either,” he said, finishing her sentence when she was too ashamed to do so. “This is not what you wanted for yourself, or your life. If the price of freedom is this place, it is a price too high.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said quickly, her face flushing with hot guilt. It was as if he could see her thoughts. “It’s what he said—Isodor. I did let you take me and do what you wanted to me, I didn’t fight for my crown, or my father, or my world. I ran away and I let you… defile me.”
“You adore being defiled, pet.”
His knowing smirk made her blush and squirm where she sat.
“He intended to take your crown one way or another,” Maxim reminded her. “Had you not had the courage to flee, your father would have passed on just as he did and you would have been left warming his bed night after night. With his prudish attitude to lovemaking, I doubt you would have enjoyed it.”
“You think he is bad in bed?” She allowed herself a small smile of watery amusement.
“I think he is the same in bed as he is in all things—terrible,” Maxim laughed.
* * *
Maxim knew very well that Sabine was suffering in the way only a princess could suffer. Born to a life of luxury, she had never known material hardship.
He had never intended on living in a hovel for the rest of his life, as Sabine seemed to assume that was the case. This had been a month of respite, a chance to reorient themselves to one another, to discover whether the l
ove between them was a real thing, or a mere connection of convenience. It had been difficult for her, but she had at least tried to make the best of things and put so many brave smiles on her face, even when her eyes had held the glimmer of tears.
“Come here,” he beckoned. “Hands and knees, pet.”
There was no hesitation in her obedience. In spite of her doubts, her fears, her unhappiness with the place where they had found themselves, the one thing that had never wavered was their love and desire. She slipped down and moved toward him on hands and knees, her hips rolling, her eyes glittering with excitement.
She may not feel she was a princess, but she had never forgotten that she was his pet, and she still lit up when he took her in his arms, no matter how miserable she may have been before. As he watched the gorgeous young woman make her way toward him, Maxim felt a pride of ownership and a swelling of affection for her. She was so much stronger than she realized, and she was still a princess in every sense of the word.
He reached out and drew her close, stroking her hair out of her eyes, the shiny golden falls cascading nearly to the floor. His cock was hard for her and she was hungry for it. He could see the eager greed in her eyes.
He pushed his cock into her hot, wet mouth and let out a sigh of pleasure as her sweet lips engulfed him. Holding her by the Centillion collar, he drew her back and forth, controlling her every motion as she suckled at his hard flesh.
“You’re still my pet,” he reminded her. “You’ll always be my pet.”
She let out a husky little moan around his cock, making it throb.
“Turn around,” he ordered. “I want to be inside you.”
The crude words had the same effect there in the little shack as they had in Centillion territory. She did as she was told, spinning on hands and knees to present her bare rear. Her pussy was pretty as ever, the tender pink folds of her sex glistening with her arousal. He took a knee behind her and slid himself inside, finding that hot, wet place that felt so much like home.
She had no tail, which was a pity, but there was some small advantage in that it left her well-trained bottom free for his attentions. He had saved some oil for this very purpose, a small vial of golden viscous liquid, which he took from the table and dripped over her winking anus as he slowly slid his cock in and out of her pussy.
Her little moans as she felt him rubbing her bottom, and the way her inner walls gripped his cock ever more tightly told him that she was enjoying it. He continued to massage the little bud, his cock moving in a very slow grind in and out of her wet sex. Her glistening juices coated his shaft with every stroke, making his cock gleam as he gave her a very thorough distraction from their diminished circumstances.
Soft moans turned into a little whimper of complaint as he pulled his cock from her pussy, but the moment he pushed it to her bottom hole, she fell silent. There was anticipation, and no complaint as he slid the head of his cock into her ass, past the tight ring of muscle that had been taught to relax with every intrusion of the tail plug.
He had been saving her ass, and he was glad he had, for the way her hot buttery interior felt was utterly perfect. She was squeezing his cock so hard with her anus that he was not sure how long he could stand it, but he worked himself very slowly inside her bottom, one hand dipping beneath her body to toy with her clit.
“You’re still my pet,” he repeated. “And all these holes are still mine.”
He seated his cock deep in her bottom, all the way to the base of the shaft and let her adjust to the thick intrusion. It was not easy for her. He could hear the little gasps, the barely stifled whimpers, but she was a good girl and she knew how to obey her master.
“Very good, my pet,” he praised, stroking her hair with one hand, her clit with the other. “Now, show me what a good little pet you can be. Fuck my cock with your tight ass.”
He heard her moan and then slide forward, his cock leaving her tight bottom inch by inch until she recaptured it with a slow slide back. Back and forth, back and forth, she slid her ass over his cock, her tight muscle accommodating it a little bit better every time.
He rewarded her with little pinches and slaps to her clit, teasing her pussy. She gasped and bucked and worked her bottom a little faster and soon he could not take it. His lust was growing by the moment and he could no longer stop himself from gripping her full, creamy hips and sliding deep into her bottom, fucking her ass much as he would have fucked her pussy with long, hard strokes that made her gasp and wail.
“I don’t need a crown to want you, and I don’t need a collar to control you. I’m going to come inside you, pet,” he growled, his hand fisted in the hair at the back of her neck. “I’m going to fill this virgin ass of yours with my cum.”
She let out an animal cry and thrust her hips back, her pussy grinding against his hand with total wanton need, her creamy cunt smearing her desire over his fingers as he slipped two inside her and fingered her pussy as he slammed into her ass.
Moments later, they both came, his cock pumping his seed deep into her ass, her pussy quivering and clenching desperately at his fingers. When he pulled back, her stretched bottom and wet pussy were both red and tender looking, a perfect display of a perfect fuck pet.
“Good girl,” he said, slapping her across her bottom hard enough to leave a hand print on her pale skin. “Very, very good girl.”
* * *
Sabine’s ass was aching. He had fucked her ruthlessly, taken her anus and stretched her pussy and given her no uncertain reminder of what she was. She had needed every bit of it. Now she lay in his arms and listened to the birds above as they stole straw from the thatch to line their nests.
“So that’s it? It’s over? This is our life until the end of our days?”
“You despair,” he said. “But there’s no need, pet. Nothing lasts. Everything is lost.”
“That sounds like reason to despair.”
“No, it’s reason to hope. This will pass. My brother sits on the throne of Ere with a gate to the other world wide open. I have heard that he believes he can conquer the world beyond. But it is more than that. I know Isodor. He has to conquer it. It is a drive which he cannot evade. It is in his nature to go to war.”
“So? What do we care? What is it to us?”
“Both worlds are in danger, and he is in more danger than anyone. He must be stopped before he destroys Ere and gets himself killed in the process.”
“Before he gets himself killed?” She looked at him with interest. “You care if he dies.”
“He is my brother,” Maxim stated again.
“And you care about him.”
He remained steadfastly silent and she saw him square his jaw. That was one thing he would not admit, perhaps not even to himself.
“You love each other,” she said. “As much hatred has grown between you, he tore open the world to get to you.”
“To get to you,” Maxim reminded her.
“Us, then,” Sabine relented. “And even now he sends us off to live as we please… and you cannot let that be because of what might happen to him.”
“Had you seen what he ordered his guards to do to me, you would not be talking of brotherly love.”
“I saw the results. They were superficial. You boys play rough, but it is play. You suffered no broken bones, no serious wounds. He had you bloodied, but that is practically a kiss from him. I wonder if the legends of his evil are mere stories.”
“They’re not,” Maxim insisted. “He is evil. He showed us mercy of a kind, but that does not make him any less inherently dangerous. A well-fed snake may let the mouse run over its head, but it will take it one day. For now he fancies letting us live. That may change tomorrow. I will not be waiting for that to happen, but for the moment, we are best served staying put. Understand, you must be patient, pet.”
She nodded and cast her eyes down. She did not want him to look into her gaze and somehow catch her thoughts, as he so often did. She had come to a decision, a decision
she had no right to come to, but had done so all the same.
Patient was one thing she could no longer be.
Chapter Eleven
Maxim left on a hunting trip three days later, and shortly thereafter Sabine set out on a journey of her own. She traveled on foot alone through the countryside, a dagger clenched by her side at all times. During the days she kept a hood low over her head, and by night she wrapped herself in a threadbare cloak and slept in hollows where rough men would not find her.
She struggled with the guilt of knowing that Maxim would return several days hence and look for her, consider her either stolen or lost and struggle with that pain, but her journey was a necessary one and she knew that he was sharp enough to come after her, indeed, she was counting on it.
The roads were busy and there were many little towns along the way, brimming with news and rumors of great battles being fought beyond the gate. The secret of Ere was no longer secret. Every peasant knew about the gate and the other world. They spoke of little else—the war, the palace, the new King Isodor… and the lost princess. Indeed, Sabine heard a hundred different theories about what had happened to her, some of them described in great graphic detail to her face.
A week later, on aching feet replete with blisters, she approached the castle she had once called home. Much had changed since her father sat on the throne. New banners hung upon the walls, red and black and marked with horns. The guards all wore the marks and tabards of Isodor and the closer she drew, the more she became aware of a familiar whine. Drones. Dozens of them, flying about the palace. Several of them swept down around her and she knew that she was being watched. It didn’t matter. She was not there on surreptitious business. What she had to say and do would take place in the open.
Isodor obviously did not have the same misgivings about otherworldly technology her father had done, and as a result the castle was lit up brightly. It was also much warmer than it had been before. The stone halls had always had a chill about them, but as she stepped through the grand gates, she felt a radiant glow emanating from the very walls.