Slave Princess

Princess Lizbeth Brayshaw ducked low under the cloak in the thick brush as the Royal Guard continued to hunt for her. She could practically hear her father bellowing from her hiding spot miles from the castle.

"Bring that child back this moment before I skin all of your asses raw!" That was always his threat; but King Harold Brayshaw never did much of anything but bellow when

Lizbeth, his daughter of 18 pulled any of her stunts. She was his little Angel and with the right pout got the world, or at least the Kingdom thrown down at her feet.

Sir Jonathan Blackthorne, Knight of the Brayshaw realm and frustratingly assigned as head of the Princess' guard, sat tall on his enormous black horse and fumed at being sent out to hunt for this child who insisted on running away at least once a month beyond other things the spoiled brat got away with. The King was entertaining guests again and was unable to attend to his daughter who should be by his side. He looked towards the woods where the guards had just finished sFearching without any luck. One of the guards was riding up the hill towards him to give him the details of where they had been searching that day.

"Good afternoon Sir Jonathan." Ruben said "We've searched the woods but there is no sign of her or her horse. Perhaps this time the Princess is truly running away and not just playing her little game of hide and seek." The annoyance was thick in Ruben's voice at also being required to search for Lizbeth. "If I may say so Sir, why does he allow her to get away with this? Why does she always go unpunished?"

"I assure you Ruben, were it up to me, she would be soundly stripped of her haughty dignity." Sir Jonathan continued to stare into the woods as he spoke, his voice was acidic with his anger.

With the search party moving on, Lizbeth mounted her horse and rode off in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest. She knew they would find her eventually, they always did. It was even more amusing to see Sir Jonathan's face as; once again, she was not punished by her father. It was one of her favourite games, teasing the powerful Knight and watching him gnash his teeth to contain the words he wished to say. He was so wonderfully obedient, it was too much fun to resist. Sworn to protect her and honour her wishes, as were all the servants and subjects of her father's realm, Sir Jonathan would frequently be sent to run an errand for the Princess that really was more suited to a page or one of her maidens but repeatedly, she summoned him for some fairly degrading tasks. It did give her a chance to admire his smoldering anger, it added to his already handsome visage.

It was easily an hour of riding and Lizbeth was growing bored, usually there would have been a bit of a chase by now before eventually one of the soldiers reined her horse in and lead her; pouting dramatically back to the castle. She couldn't even see that they might be following her and considered turning back to try and tempt them in her direction when she finally heard the hooves.

Smiling to herself she continued on, trying to determine which direction the echoes were coming from. A bend in the lane brought her within sight of the men. Her gasp of surprise, and more than a little concern, was hidden beneath the sound of the men's voices and their horses' hooves. Pulling on the reins, Lizbeth stopped. These were not soldiers, they were not even average commoners. These were ruffians... Bandits and a handful of them at that.

Lizbeth was frozen, terrified for once in her life, that something might actually happen to her. She had been warned countless times that she was to remain within the castle grounds, in sight of her guards, no exceptions. Now she began to truly understand why as the bandits looked up and she saw a couple of them smile at seeing her. Even as they approached, laughing and bowing their heads as they realized who she was, Lizbeth could not move, she could not even make a sound.

"Lost, your Highness?" One jeered as he held his apple core to her horse. "Perhaps we may escort you on your ... journey, Princess."

"Uh... no... no, thank you." Lizbeth stammered. "My guard will be along." She heard the doubt and fear in her own voice and drew back on the reins, encouraging her horse to take a step back. It was far too late for any attempts of escape, the cretin had already taken a hold of her horse's bridle.

"Now Princess. I think you would appear more sympathetic to your people if you allowed us to ... escort you. Though there are none of your subjects where we're going." The men laughed around her and Lizbeth felt her blood run cold as she felt a hand on her leg.

"Do NOT Touch Me!" She screamed suddenly.

Sir Blackthorne had deliberately let his men lose track of the Princess. He knew which direction she'd gone and let her have her head start as he dismissed his men. He rode on, knowing he'd catch up to her easily, as well as knowing she'd probably be on her way home from boredom by the time he did. Jonathan knew his Princess well. He could often predict her every selfish whim before her own maids could. But as he heard his charge's scream of protest, he spurred his horse on, drawing his sword as he took the curve in the lane.

Two of the men had dragged Lizbeth from her horse by the time Jonathan appeared. She was struggling and near panic even as the men released her and backed away.

"You DARE lay your hands upon her highness, Princess Lizbeth Brayshaw?" Roared the Knight as he drew up to the group. "You wish to lose your heads for attacking the King's daughter? Because I assure you, your heads will roll if you do not take your leave of this wood and county immediately!"

"Nah, Sir... we were just offering our assistance..." The apparent leader muttered offering a phony smile to rival even Lizbeth's most manipulative simper.

Lizbeth had scurried over to her savior's horse and bolstered by Jonathan's powerful presence began to unleash a stream of lies.

"They lifted my skirts and they touched me, Jonathan! They ... they have knives and threatened my life! That's treason! KILL THEM!"

Over the protests from the men as they backed away beneath Jonathan's glare, the knight raised his voice again. "LEAVE NOW!" They did not need telling again.

Sheathing his sword as the voices and hooves died away, Jonathan looked down at his Princess and shook his head.

"Why did you let them go? I told you to kill them!" Lizbeth snarked at him. "Where is the rest of my guard? You are to protect me at all times yet again, I found myself alone in the woods, this time, surrounded by ruffians who attacked me! My father will hear of this!"

The Knight said nothing but gazed down at her, amusement in his eyes. It was not the first time that Lizbeth attempted to lay the blame on him or her staff. This time the outcome would be very different.

"Princess, I think you should be careful what you threaten." He said calmly.

"Excuse me?"

"You are attempting to threaten me and you should not." His voice took an edge, his eyes hardening as he could see her tantrum forming behind her shock. "Do not say what you are thinking of saying, you will not like my reaction." Jonathan knew she would say what was on her mind anyway, but she had been warned and he was prepared in many ways.

"I will not be spoken to this way! You will be brought before my father the King and you will be in trouble... you will be ... AHA! You will be stripped of your Knighthood!" Her blue eyes flashed in anger that he had dared to speak to her in such a way. No one spoke to her that way.

Jonathan chuckled, an evil sound that only confused Lizbeth into silence before she began to really raise her voice and threaten more than she the had power to.

"You laugh?" She quickly regained herself and trembled with rage. "You wait until my father hears of this disrespect! You will be sorry!" She burst and turned to return to her horse.

Jonathan dismounted and had grabbed the hood of her cloak, yanking her roughly back to him, ignoring her scream of surprise and outrage. With a flick of his wrist, his hand twisted in the hood, and Lizbeth was turned to face him as he leaned down to put his face level with hers. "You have made your last threat to me, Highness." He hissed an inch from her face, his eyes smoldering again with anger.

Lizbeth was dumbstruck. The cloak had been pulled tight to her throat as her guard became her attacker. She choked slightly, sputtering as she pushed at his shoulders while Jonathan only glared into her eyes.

"Jon-than... please... hurts." She gasped. "Let go."

But the Knight was not ready. He had reached the end of his patience with this spoiled little girl and if her father was not going to step in and teach her some respect for others, he would gladly do so himself. She would be a very different person when he was done with her.

Pulling upwards on Lizbeth's hood and nearly lifting her off her feet, Jonathan spun her around again as his free hand took some rope from his saddle bag. The Princess sputtered and began to scrabble her nails at Jonathan's hand. Were he not wearing gloves, his skin would have been torn but all that happened was his easily grabbed one of her wrists and twisted it down and into the small of her back, causing Lizbeth to scream in pain.

Within a minute Jonathan had freed the cloak from her body and trussed her arms tightly behind her back at wrists and elbows. Lizbeth's screams echoed in the wood but the Knight ignored her and the struggles she gave him were not even an issue compared to his strength and skills. He did not speak again as he worked quickly. Lifting her skirts, much to Lizbeth's further alarm, Jonathan pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced the pantaloons from her body. Each time she tried to move away, a rough yank to hair brought her back into his complete control.

Lizbeth was beside herself. It was such a shocking and terrifying experience that she could only scream further abuse at her Knight. Threats that even she knew would be impossible to follow through on. Jonathan continued to ignore her but planned her punishments accordingly as he tore strips and wads from her under pants, concentration and a hint of amusement in his eyes and to her further outrage, Lizbeth was quickly and effectively gagged with wads of her own pantaloons stuffed into her mouth then tied tightly in place with another strip of the cloth.

Lizbeth's eyes were wide and growing more terrified over outraged by the second. Her arms were hurting, the rough rope digging into her soft, pampered flesh. She was spun on the spot again and Jonathan replaced her cloak, pulling her hood up over her head and fastening it closed at the front to hide her bonds from plain view before lifting her and placing her on his horse side saddle then mounting behind her.

After grabbing hold of Lizbeth's horse's reins and tying them to his saddle, Jonathan spurred his horse and rode them away, farther from the castle and deeper into the wood. Lizbeth was growing more frightened by the minute. She struggled and screamed through her gag. She could barely see where he was taking her but knew she was not going home.

After another hour of riding deeper into the woods, Jonathan pulled the horses to a stop in front of a wood cabin well off the main path. Dismounting, the Knight reached up and pulled Lizbeth down and over his shoulder. She squirmed and growled at him but was ignored as he shouldered open the door and dropped her unceremoniously onto the floor, causing her considerable pain.

"You are about to learn some very valuable lessons, little Princess. Some discipline and most importantly, how to treat those around you with respect, starting with me." Jonathan stood over her, his arms crossed as she tossed her head enough to lower the hood and glare at him. "To start, you will no longer, EVER, look at me that way again. And when we are alone, you will not even meet my eyes." Lizbeth glared harder and the response was a solid slap to her cheek.

Never had anyone struck the Princess before. It rocked her world more than it rocked her head on her shoulders. He would pay with his life or so she tried to tell him through the gag. The answer was another slap.

"You had better learn to obey me, my Princess, or you will feel more than your spoiled mind can possibly imagine. Though, I suspect that will be the case no matter your behaviour. I have been looking forward to this for many years."

Lizbeth was hanging her head as he spoke, crying softly for the pain to her face.

"Now, let's begin." Jonathan said as he reached down and pulled her to her feet by the hood of her cloak again. "The most important lesson you will learn is to obey me in all things. You disobey, you will be punished ... severely. You will not test me on this Princess." As he spoke, she cried softly, frightened of what he was talking about. He also began to strip her clothing with his dagger.

Lizbeth screamed at him as more and more of her body was revealed and was answered with another slap. He made quick work of stripping her before pulling her backwards by her bound arms to the centre of the room where he looped another rope through her wrists and flung the other end over a rafter. Lizbeth was screaming again, as the slack was taken up and she was forced to bend forward while her arms and shoulders were pulled sharply up behind her.

Jonathan chuckled as Lizbeth rose onto her toes in an attempt to slacken the rope and save her arms. "Are you ready to obey, my Princess?" Jonathan asked her, pulling her head up by her thick, auburn locks to meet her eyes.

Lizbeth sobbed harder through the gag, tears wet on her flushed cheeks, as she shook her head, pleading with her eyes to her Knight. Jonathan slapped her again. "You are not to meet my eyes, Princess, not ever when we are alone." He yanked her head back and peered into her face as she cried harder still, this time her eyes were closed, more a flinch than obeying. "I have a lot of work to do with you... But you will be all the better for it when I am finished. You are mine now and always. Learn to deal with that and your new place in this world."

Lizbeth whimpered and opened her eyes. Yet for the first time, she did not raise her gaze, she looked at the floor, or more accurately, Jonathan's boots. It was far too much for her to comprehend. She feared for her life. Even feared for her sanity locked away in the dingy wood cabin trussed up and naked. Her protector was now her captor, Lizbeth could barely grasp how it had happened.

"Now," He said as he let her head hang again, apparently satisfied for the moment. "Let me have a look at what now belongs to only me."

Lizbeth was then forced to deal with a series of probing touches. She felt his very gaze travel her body and was helpless to hide herself from it. Jonathan removed his gloves and began to run his hands over her the way a stable owner might inspect a horse for sale. First over her back and hips, then down her legs. Rising again, he stood behind her and lewdly squeezed the round cheeks of her ass before rudely pulling them apart and peering at her tiny, puckered rosebud. Lizbeth could not scream, she could barely react; the shock to her mind was too great. But when she felt a slickened finger tip rub and press at her anus, she bucked then screamed for the pain it caused her.

"That is a lesson all on its own. Remain still while your Master inspects you. It will only bring you pain; bound or not." Jonathan warned her and resumed to tease and press lightly at the tight little hole.

Again satisfied, he grabbed hold of her knees and wrenched her feet further apart. Lizbeth screamed again as her shoulders took the pressure. "Stay." Jonathan commanded and though her body trembled at the strain, the young Princess did as told. She did not want to be slapped again.

It was humiliating for Lizbeth, trussed up with her legs wide, her breasts hanging towards the floor. She closed her eyes at the feel of his hand running up her inner thigh then down the other. "Mmmm" Jonathan murmured and with Lizbeth merely crying softly, she heard him and shook her head. "Be still." He corrected and delivered a firm smack to her buttocks.

Resuming the stroking of her inner thighs, Jonathan began to venture deeper between her legs and felt her trembling increase. He smiled to himself as he tested her reactions to a soft stroke over her pussy. He heard the muffled groan and smiled further. Lizbeth was of an age where she surely had played with her sweet little snatch and the unwitting groan told him she knew what could possibly happen if he continued toying with her like that.

A few minutes of firm stroking and some skilled tweaking of her ever hardening nub, and Lizbeth was struggling to control herself and avoid further humiliation by accepting the pleasure. Jonathan was impressed, he had doubted she'd respond at all considering the pain to her arms and back. "You like this, Princess. That's very good." He chuckled and pinched her clit, making her twitch and groan more sharply.

Jonathan stepped around her body and held his fingers under her nose. "You can not deny that evidence, my Princess." He chuckled again as he pulled her head up by her hair once more. "Even your tears are drying, very good. Now to see how far you've come." With that he pulled out his dagger once more and sliced the gag from her mouth.

"Now listen carefully, before you bring yourself any fresh punishment." The Knight said firmly as he stood next to her and began to play with her dangling breasts and hard little nipples.

"When we are alone, such as now, you are forbidden to speak unless I give you permission or ask you a question. When you do speak, you will only use respectful tones, you will no longer lie and you will address me as Master. If we are not alone, you may call me Sir Blackthorne. You may speak as needed but again, only the truth and respectful of even your servants. Your tyranny over the staff has ended, Majesty."

Leaving her breasts, Jonathan again pulled her head back by her hair. "Do you understand these rules, girl?" He barked in her face, causing Lizbeth to flinch after darting her eyes up to his then away again.

"Please... I don't understand this at all..." She murmured nervously. Her voice was hoarse and tearful again.

Holding her head back, Jonathan spanked her ass twice, hard. Lizbeth cried out and began to sob again. The pleasure he'd teased through her was gone now.

"You will answer me properly, slave." He spit at her and watched as her mind grasped what he'd called her. Her sobs stopped in mid hitch and she looked up at him, confused and frightened. The Knight backhanded her across the face this time. "EYES DOWN!" He yelled and dropped her hair.

"Now, do you understand the rules, slave?" He asked again as he stepped behind her, silently unfastening his pants as he went. Jonathan was hard, he'd been dreaming of this for months and now, she was his and helpless. He would marry her with the King's permission, something he was very confident he'd have. But he wanted to have this moment sealed in both of their minds for the rest of their lives.

Standing directly behind her, poised but not touching her, Jonathan spoke again. "Do You Understand, My Slave? Answer me, properly. NOW!"

Lizbeth whimpered and choked back a sob before drawing a breath to speak.

"Yes MASTER!" It was exactly how he'd imagined it. Jonathan had grabbed her hips and plunged his thick length fully into her virginal sex, claiming her in more ways than one as she called him Master. Lizbeth screamed in pain and bucked in his strong hands as he merely held himself fully engulfed in her tiny canal. He chuckled to himself and stroked a hand down her taught arms.