Stick and stones will break my bones, but chains and whips do delight.



Meanwhile in a darker part of the land…

Prince Casius Centius paced the black stone floors of his mother’s sitting room. He supposed you could call it that, since the Queen did this very moment sit upon her blood red chaise lounge, the only piece of furniture in the room you could actually sit upon. Well without pain that is.

“Casius you trouble me so with your pacing, please, I insist you sit.” She flourished her hand towards the next seating device to her right.

The gnarled contraption was polished smooth but where the cushion should be a gaping hole had been carved. The “hot” seat some affectionately liked to call it, due to the access it gave for the hot coal pans usually reserved for warming their beds. Casius ceased his pacing but raised his black eyebrows at his mother incredulously.

“Oh very well, sit by me then”. She puffed, scooting over and patting the lounge area next to her hip.

“Now tell me, son, what has you so frustrated? Is your wench not pleasing you? If so I can order you another from the harem…”the queen began.

“NO!” in a strangled shout, then more gently, “I mean no thank you mother, you are most kind.” Prince Casius warred with his control.

Casius was absolutely livid at the news the recent courier had returned with on patrol. The Bloodreaver Elves were shunned by all the clans, and they had to spy for their Intel. He never understood the hatred for his people, so what if they enjoyed things a little rough? Their games were always tinged with the possibility of injury or death to make it all the more fun right? Magic was practiced at its best, dark. And sex was always better when a little pain was involved; it made the sweet even sweeter. How dare the other clans declare them depraved, bloodthirsty, animals! Well the little fairies were going to be taught a lesson. And he meant all the pussy-whipped Clans, but most of all the highest do-gooders of them all, the Dreywood Elves! They thought themselves so pristine, so pompous that they would deign to gift their elven blood to the other Clans in rites of marriage.

Yes, he had finally found out the proclamation, and was boiling at the news. HE was the Bloodreaver’s heir and crown prince, and as the only other elven nation in this land, they deserved to be included in this rite. Gods he had even seen his fated mate within the blood mirror on his 18th birthday! Casius had thought it to be the omen of coming power for his people, a way to conquer the Dreywood at last. But now…

He spat upon the floor just to rid his mouth of the disgusting thought of that GIANT and …

“Casius!” his mother scolded.

Blushing under his midnight blue skin, he asked her forgiveness.

Sighing Casius turned his obsidian eyes to hers, “Mother, the Dreywood have proclaimed they will end the long wars between the Clans.” He searched her face for her reaction finding none, he continued. “The King and Queen have declared their chosen offspring and contracted them into marriage to the Clan royals, thus sealing a blood bargain among them all.”

She let his news sink in before answering her distraught son. No note of emotion did she let flicker across her face. Queen Izlan was known for her ability of deception.

Finally after many long moments of silence she spoke, “For this is joyous news! No more war and famine and disease seeping into our lands. Peace at last Casius! Whatever has you angry over this?” she lied smoothly.

Confused he jumped up like a snake had bit him, and surely it had, with the bite of his mother’s venomous tongue. “How can you even utter those words to me? After these past 4 years of my endless training, planning, and longing for HER! She is MINE mother! MINE! Though she knows it not, the fates sealed her path with my blood! Do you know whom they have chosen for her? WHAT they have chosen for her? A GIANT! A filthy scag not worthy to even lick her boots! I will see him chained and his hide flayed from his back! I will slave him to the privy ditches, digging in the scum and excrement where he belongs! Death would be too great a gift for that animal, even daring to touch her flawless…”

Fearing her son would hyperventilate she interrupted his tirade, “Well I am glad to see you have your priorities straight. Now calm down.”

He leveled her with a murderous gaze.

“I said calm down. Now sit we need to strategize how this turn of events can be twisted to our favor. You know I was once friends with Queen Brittanne, well much closer than friends really. We grew up in school together before the wars separated our peoples. She and I have a history you could say, Casius. A long and wicked history…” and Queen Izlan filled her son in on the tail of her first love, Queen Brittanne.

Casius returned to his suite refreshed, and disturbingly turned on. The stories his mother had just told him about her forbidden tryst with the Queen Brittanne when they were but young women, had his cock swollen against his leather britches. Just envisioning two women snaking their tongues into their swollen lips, moaning in ecstasy as they suckled each other, had him in a hard way.

That the vision kept getting interrupted with his own mother’s face disturbed him on many levels. He knew Queen Izlan was a desirable woman, which he had seen in person on feast days, but never had he felt his own desire peak at a thought of her. Casius told himself it was just the pent up rage and shock over the news of Fraya. That his mind was addled and he was clutching to anything to block out the thought of the GIANT sinking his cock into…GAWH! He had to find his wench!

Casius strode into his bedroom and found his wench making his bed with fresh linens. An evil smile cracked his face as he watched her full bottom bend over the mattress. Silent as a cat he stalked up behind her releasing his cock from the laces, then forcefully he grabbed her, flipping her skirts up, and drove his cock into her unsuspecting pussy.

She of course screamed but it only increased his excitement, he let her scream this time instead of gagging her. Leave the gag for later when he got the whip. He pounded into her with brute force not caring if she was ready or not, she better be, she was his wench. His to do with as he pleased, and if she didn’t like it, there were plenty more that would take his abuse. Once he tired of her he would replace her, but for now her screaming was still a novelty he enjoyed.

He slapped her ass with each thrust and soon her light blue flesh was dark with purple flush. He loved the color of her skin freshly slapped. It was the color of midnight violets his favorite flower. That he had a favorite flower was something of a shock in someone so cruel, but he did tend them regularly in the royal greenery.

Wench, for she had no other name, balled her fists into the bedding, but did not beg for mercy, no never that. She knew better. Finding out the Prince would allow her the modicum of screams she channeled her pain into wordless shrieks, waiting for his release. But tonight he was a beast and she trembled at the fury rolling from him. After many agonizing minutes he finally yanked free of her swollen cunt; but before she could breathe in relief he flipped her around and drove her to her knees, shoving his slick cock into her mouth.

Struggling to keep her teeth away from his tender flesh for fear of his teeth in retaliation, she licked and sucked the best she could. The Prince gripped her hair and shoved down her throat, growling with his impending release. He pumped and pumped until she thought her jaw would come unhinged when she felt him grow firmer. His head was bulbous already but always expanded just before he came, filling her mouth and stretching her cheeks he shot his hot seed down her gullet. Wench sucked and swallowed as she had been taught until his limp form plopped from her face. Callously he tossed her to the floor.

“Very good, Wench, you didn’t anger me once. Now help me to undress and bathe, maybe I will reward you tonight.” He said standing with his arms out waiting for her to unbutton his shirt.

Shock registered on her face, had he just complimented her? But as quickly as the shock had come, fear slid home to replace it. He never complimented her. Something was wrong…

After Casius was stripped and scrubbed clean, lounging in the waters, he ordered her to strip as well. Trembling Wench obeyed. Her tumbling blue hair glowed in the firelight, and her light blue skin pebbled with gooseflesh. Light blue… will never do…he wanted violet. And the most beautiful violet of all is that born of ivory skin…Casius groaned again.

“Wench, tonight your name is Fraya. You will answer to me as “My Mate” not “Master”, do you understand?” he ordered.

“Yes, master…My my Mate” she fumbled.

“I will forgive the first infraction, but no more. Now come to me ‘Fraya’ and join your mate in the water.” He commanded.

Wench stepped into the tub with her master and he forced her to sit facing away from him, wrapped by his powerful legs. “You will not bathe unless I bathe you ‘Fraya’, do you understand?” as he soaped up a cloth and began gliding it down Wench’s arms.

“Yes, My Mate” she dutifully answered.

“Very good” he purred into her ear. Wench straightened at the tenderness in his voice, afraid at once. “You have nothing to fear if you only follow my orders, my sweet ‘Fraya’” he cooed.

He was insane! Master had finally lost his mind and she was trapped in his twisted fantasy about some poor girl named ‘Fraya’. Wench struggled to keep up with his dialogue so she knew when her cue was, not wanting to risk his wrath.

The hideous whip hung not far from the tub glinting dully with its many leathered knots. She did not want to feel the sting of the whip tonight.

“You are mine and mine alone my sweet tender ‘Fraya’, I will teach you to love the firmness of my touch. You will beg for my whip so only I can soothe the sting. Never will you lust for that filthy giant again, once you have drunk of my dark and deviled blood.” His voice dipped low and husky. Chills raced up Wench’s spine. Her master was mad with lust and intent on taking her down in this spiral of lies; she only prayed she would survive.