Possessing Allura (4 page)

The stable boy looked nervously at the departing senior servant. Ordinarily a low level servant like him would go his entire life without ever setting foot in the castle, much less being in the same room as the crown princess, the very daughter of the dear departed king.

‘When I am queen, boy,' she informed him, ‘I will own everything in the kingdom, including you.'

He swallowed nervously. ‘Yes, princess.'

She laughed. ‘I'm only joking. For goodness sake, relax. You're here to have a good time.' He was about to have a very good time, one that would surpass anything he was ever likely to enjoy again in his whole miserable life. She hoped he'd appreciate the extraordinary lengths she was going to for him. When her uncle found out about her bringing this male creature into her bedchambers he was sure to give her a stern lecture.

‘What you do reflects not only on you, Allura, but upon the monarchy itself. The very future of our realm depends upon your sensibilities.' Those were his watchwords, or a close enough facsimile. As if the man himself did not have his own lowly liaisons, the pretty peasants girls rounded up to take his beatings and whatever else he could manage at his age.

What a caretaker like Fortragian would never understand, though, was the loneliness and isolation of the kingship itself. Her father had felt it and soon she would, too, but in the meantime she planned on enjoying her freedom. As well as practicing in small doses her soon to be absolute power over the whole kingdom.

‘Tell me your name, boy, and your age,' she demanded.

‘I am Willemo and I have passed twenty summers, princess.'

‘That makes you a year older than me. Splendid. Now tell me, Willemo, is that slave hanging there pleasing in your sight? Does she have, in your estimation, a good body?'

‘Very much so, princess.'

‘You would fuck her, then?'

Willemo's brow furrowed. He was becoming suspicious. ‘Princess, if you wish to make some accusation pray do so now and not later.'

‘No accusations, Willemo, merely a gift… in exchange for one small favor.'

‘Princess?'

‘You must whip the slut before you fuck her.'

‘But I have never done such a thing, princess.'

‘And you call yourself a man?' she laughed. ‘Come, fetch the whip from my hand, boy. Veeta wants a taste of it, don't you, slut?'

‘Yes, mistress,' rasped the broken girl. ‘I beg to be beaten as the animal I am.'

Allura nodded in satisfaction. ‘There you have it, Willemo.'

His lips tightened, but he stepped forward to retrieve the seven-stranded leather whip without objection.

‘Not there.' She stopped him as he moved to stand behind her. ‘You will whip the slut on her breasts and pussy.'

Veeta's eyes watered. The pain would be exquisite.

‘And I should like you naked, Willemo, if you please.'

Knowing himself powerless to resist the command of one so powerful, he pulled off his boots and slid down his breeches, his semi-rigid cock a work of art.

‘Stand in front of the slut,' Allura ordered. ‘Let her see what will be fucking her soon enough.'

Willemo was a big youth, with hairy balls and a sturdy penis.

‘Tell me, Veeta, is the baron this well endowed?' Allura enquired mischievously.

‘N-not quite, mistress.'

‘Oh? And what of his muscles? Do you think he could beat this Willemo in a fair fight?'

‘I do not know,' the hanging slave replied. ‘I did not get a close enough look.'

‘He possessed you, did he not?'

‘Yes, mistress.'

‘Then I would say you got very close. Willemo, strike her pussy, as hard as you can.'

Veeta cried out at his first attempt, but Allura was not satisfied.

‘You must do it harder, Willemo, or I will have you whipped by the guards in her place.'

Willemo reared back his arm and let loose, leaving a savage red mark across her denuded mound.

‘Now her breasts,' the princess directed, and the young man lashed out, beginning to get the hang of the device. ‘More,' ordered the princess, her pulse racing. ‘Hurt her more.'

How Allura wished she had a man's arms, a man's legs and a penis between her thighs to provide the ultimate punishment. ‘Where is your baron now to protect you, dear Saraveeta?' she goaded.

‘Mistress, please,' she moaned. ‘I am yours, only yours.'

‘Lying slut!' She grabbed the whip. ‘You enjoyed him. You surrendered to him. How could you not with a man like that? How could you not yield and be his slave after just one touch?'

Allura hated her at that moment, more than she had any other human being on earth. What right had she to be fucked by that awful baron, or to give him pleasure? Veeta was her slave, and hers alone. ‘I believe today is the day I shall hurt you worse than all the others combined,' she vowed, thrusting the handle into the slave's sex, ignoring her sobs. ‘I will use iron rods, I will draw blood, I swear it!'

‘Have I interrupted something?'

Allura's skin crawled. It was him, the dark and dangerous Montreico, right behind her. ‘You most certainly have,' she whirled to face him, ‘and I shall thank you to leave at once.' She was utterly unprepared for the sight of the rakish baron in his uniform of office; a red tunic, gold emblazoned, with black trousers, black boots and a rapier at his waist.

‘I shall be pleased to.' He bowed. ‘Only there is the small matter of your girl, here.'

‘What about her?'

‘I should like the pleasure of her flesh once more this morning.'

Allura stiffened in rage. Was there no end to the man's nerve? How could he possibly presume to barge into her private quarters and demand to use one of her personal serving slaves?

‘Sir, I shall ask you once more to leave, or else I shall summon the guards to have you removed. And while you are at it, I pray you do not stop merely at vacating my chambers, but rather the whole of my castle.'

The baron regarded her, amused. ‘You know, princess, you really are quite charming when you're worked up. I'll bet your nipples are hard, aren't they?'

Allura's first reaction was to attack him again, but she'd learned her lesson from the last time. ‘I have nothing more to say to you.' She brushed by him.

‘I hope you're not leaving on my account?' he mused, and she treated him to her most charming but dangerous smile.

‘Actually I am on my way to my uncle to arrange for your arrest,' she said. ‘Good day, baron.' He hadn't any clever retort, which she took as a good sign, and marching straight to the grand duke's study she unleashed her venom without preamble.

‘The man is a menace, uncle,' she gabbled. ‘He has insulted me for the last time. I want him thrown into the dungeon.'

Grand Duke Fortragian glanced over his reading spectacles at her. ‘Niece, have you not the common courtesy to knock before bursting in?' he demanded irritably.

‘This couldn't wait.' she folded her arms determinedly across her bosom, the fact that her nipples really were erect secretly adding to her discomfort and fury. She was in no way attracted to the man. No, if anything it was the attractive servant Willemo arousing her.

‘All right,' he sighed, putting down the quill he'd been using to sign promulgations, ‘tell me what this fellow has done.'

Allura proceeded to relate the entire sordid story, leaving out the salacious detail of her picking the peel off the floor of the throne room with her lips. The grand duke listened implacably, showing no small measure of patience as she made the same points again and again.

‘My dear niece,' he said at last when she had wound herself down to where he could get a word in edgewise, ‘your father and I took great efforts in your rearing to keep you shielded from many of the harsher exigencies of life, but I'm afraid the time has come to elucidate you on certain political matters. Though it pains me to say so, I am not going to live forever, nor do I have vast power at my disposal to keep the various unruly nobles in line—'

‘And that is why you should lobby to change the law so the throne can be turned over to me, so I can deal with them,' she blurted.

Fortragian held up a hand. ‘Interrupting your elders, young lady, is hardly a sign of royal maturity.'

The princess pouted.

‘Baron Montreico, coarse as his behavior might be, is a great ally of this throne, Allura. He has armies at his disposal and he is, at the moment, an indispensable part of my plan to insure you have a kingdom left to preside over. As for your ruling alone, we have been over this already. You must have the protection of a husband or the nobles will eat you alive.'

‘It is I who will eat them, uncle. This Montreico for starters.'

‘Niece, I beg you, simply tolerate the man while he is here. I am not asking you to marry him.'

‘Good,' she said. ‘I would sooner marry a warthog.'

The grand duke pursed his lips. ‘He does not seem so objectionable to me. I see the way the maidens look at him, and the slaves cannot crawl to him fast enough.'

The princess turned her nose up. ‘The man does nothing for me, now if you will excuse me I think I should like to attend to my slave.'

‘We shall see you at dinner then,' the grand duke reminded. ‘At eight promptly, if you please.'

Allura nodded her affirmation and was off again in a bustle of pink skirts. So she must endure the presence of the baron. Fine. That did not mean, however, that she must in any way acknowledge his existence as a human being. Let him try a dose of her cold shoulder treatment and the man would quickly be sorry for his outrageous behavior. By the time she was done with him, in fact, the man would wish he'd gotten off easy with a nice stay in the dungeon.

In the meantime she would continue her interrogation of Veeta, and may the gods help that man if he was still malingering her bedroom when she got back up there.

Which he was, being salaciously pleasured.

‘Allura,' he beamed, lounging in one of her gilded wooden armchairs, Veeta between his outstretched legs sucking noisily on his manhood. ‘I was hoping you'd return to join us.'

The princess felt the blood drain from her face. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such audacity. It was one thing for her to torment men this way, but no one had ever dared take such liberties with her.

Montreico pulled a cigar from his tunic. ‘She's quite a good little cocksucker, isn't she?' he mocked. ‘Would you have a light, by any chance?'

The princess fought to keep her eyes off the man's glistening cock, sliding in and out of the slave's mouth. The baron had tied her hands behind her back, which made it more challenging for her to keep her balance.

‘Baron Montreico,' Allura declared, refusing to yield to her passions, ‘if you have any honor at all, I demand that you remove yourself from here at once.'

‘Before I've come?'

‘Get out, baron, now,' Allura snapped. ‘Do you hear me? Veeta, get away from him this instant.'

The baron held the slave in place as she tried to rise. ‘Stay where you are, Veeta.'

‘She is my slave,' Allura grabbed the girl's dark hair, ‘and I forbid her to give you pleasure.' Veeta cried out as the princess pulled her by the hair away from the baron's erection. ‘Now get out, damn you!' she ordered the man, the girl trembling at her feet.

‘Am I not a guest of this house?' The baron enquired, seemingly unperturbed.

Allura's mouth watered at the sight of the pulsing, abandoned cock. ‘According to my uncle,' she said acidly, ‘not me.'

‘But your uncle is head of this royal house, is he not? Therefore I am a guest by law, entitled to all that this house has to offer, including the pleasure of its slave flesh. Now unless you wish to take this girl's place I suggest you return her to her task forthwith.'

The logic was as flawless as it was galling. ‘Very well, you two deserve each other,' Allura hissed, shoving Veeta forward onto her face.

‘You have five seconds to return to your work.' The baron ignored her, speaking directly to the bound slave, who contorted herself, repositioning her mouth. Allura had never seen the girl perform like this, with such perfect fear and obedience.

‘I hope it falls off, Montreico,' she said sulkily.

‘Your kindness overwhelms me, princess. Now, about the light for my cigar?'

Allura fetched a candle, determined to maintain her aplomb. ‘Exactly what do you have on my uncle, anyway?'

‘Have on him?'

‘Yes. Why is he so afraid of you?'

‘I don't know. Why are you so afraid of me?'

‘Me? Afraid? Hardly,' she scoffed.

‘If you would do the honors.' He indicated she should light his cigar with the candle resting on a nearby table.