Princess Slave
By Sara York
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Sara York
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Find my other works at http://sarayork.com
Princess Slave
Cover Art by Sara York ©Copyright August 2011
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of Sara York.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.
Princess Slave
By
Sara York
Lady Raven Rave "Romance Novel Junkies”
4 1/2 STARS
I picked this book to read not knowing what to expect, and I have to say I really liked the read, the sexual content is very explicit so if your not into the detailed sex then not sure how well you will receive this book. I also have to say this book is very very sweet and has it's romantic feel that felt really deep, I sound melodramatic but I had a lot of awwwwwwww moments with Brach. It's about the fantasy, I got my fantasy while reading this book.
Brach is a soldier who isn't rich, who doesn't have much, and works for the royal family and I fell in love with him myself. Regina is one of seven daughters to the king who is suppose to marry a guy three times her age, not wanting this she rebels and ran away to the pleasure planet to experience a sexual encounter. While there she is tricked and sold as a sex slave to a masked man. It turns out the mask man is Brach. After Regina figured out who the masked man is she got to know Brach and things happen between them. I really enjoyed this read especially towards the end the sacrifice Brach is willing to make to part with Regina knowing that a life with her will probably never be. I felt like you got to know Brach like he was strip and you saw this vulnerable guy who really fell in love with a princess he knew he couldn't have, though he wanted to teach Regina a lesson on the consequence of her actions of running away sometimes that part didnt make much sense at times but it was ok for me. The sex was steaming up my reading electrical device just reading it. A good read and I'm Very much anticipating reading more books as I think this is apart of a series.
Dedication
To Mark, you mean everything to me.
Princess Slave
By Sara York
1
Dark, lifeless eyes stared up at Ava, condemning her to a fate worse than death. The twenty thousand Zebuluns in the stands surrounding her fell silent. Ava looked at the woman lying dead at her feet. The knife still protruded garishly from her side. Blood still flowed from the wound.
A week of eating drugged food, what little they had allowed her, and drinking tainted water left her weak, but the fight for her life had cleared some of the fog that puzzled her brain. Horror washed over her. She’d just killed another being.
The hollow echo of one person clapping bounced off the stadium floor. Ava looked up, staring toward the royal box filled with Zebulun’s highest-ranking officials. If this were her planet, she would be in that box, but not for this type of atrocity. Her people would never stand for such a wanton display of violence and death. But she was no longer the intended ruler of her people, her life held little promise, and now this.
The sound of spectators joining in the applause sickened her. The misfits of society sounded their approval of her kill. Ava bent low, closing the eyelids of the one she’d stabbed.
Hands grasped roughly at her arms, pulling her to her feet. Revulsion wormed its way into her empty belly as she looked over her shoulder at the dead body. She’d reacted automatically when the woman rushed her. The knife felt cold in her hand as it slid into her opponent’s side. Now every part of her was icy as steel, and she wished she’d been the one to die on the field today.
Before she could protest, the guards placed her on a golden stool and imprisoned her with shackles. She wanted to fight the restraints but knew better. Her chest ached with mourning for what she’d lost. This week would have been the beginning of her entrée into becoming queen. The introduction into ruling royalty would have taken years, but not any more.
The palanquin holding her lifted. She clenched the muscles of her torso, forcing herself not to faint. The stadium gates opened, and the stench of too many bodies assaulted her. Thousands filled the stands, screaming at her and yelling impossible suggestions to her.
“Let me fuck her ugly cunt,” a Uralian with black teeth yelled.
“Tie her down,” another hollered.
“Let me have a go.” The voice was deep and booming.
Ava wouldn’t cry, no matter how bad the situation. She would block the worst from her mind and think only of the gardens outside her rooms at the imperial palace on Gemariah. Panic struck her heart.
Her perfect world reduced to this.
The Gemariahians were a peaceful race who valued people. Love and learning were central to the peace that her forefathers had achieved on her planet. It was nothing like Zebulun where the worst was displayed for all to see. Misfits of all races and worlds made this detestable planet their home, bringing their wretched practices with them.
Fear raced though her. What would these people do to her? She pulled against the shackles holding her still. Terror built and threatened to spill out. She didn’t want to die at the hands of these bastards. She needed to escape.
Inner strength held her back straight in regal posture, but she knew the core teachings of her planet wouldn’t be enough to save her. Looking to her soul, she held onto the fact that her god would take her in the end. His love for her was unboundless and he would save her when her suffering became too much.
The naked revelers prancing around the streets, taking sex from whoever was in their way, should have the leaders of this planet hiding their faces in shame, but the rulers of Zebulun lived by their own set of ideals. Ava closed her eyes, trying desperately to block out the images in front of her but the sounds of the rapes and murders still flooded her ears.
The palanquin stopped at a pavilion draped with silk. An official surrounded by six guards walked to the edge of the bushes separating the street revelers from the upper class. He held his hand high and the crowd quieted.
“We have seen a great show of strength today from a virtual unknown. To celebrate such a victory the king has requested to take the victor as his concubine.”
Ava’s world tilted. She’d be used as a sex slave and tossed into the burial pits when they no longer gained any pleasure from her body or worse he’d pass her around to his friends.
The official’s eyes raked her naked body. A disgusting smile turned his lips up into an evil grin. “My name is Denba. I’ll be seeing you as soon as Ean tires of your features. I promise you will never forget me. That is if you live through the special treats I have planned for you.”
The gorilla-like men moved below her but she paid no attention to where she was or where they were headed. Her life was over. They would abuse her body until she no long could exist on this plane. She’d be treated worse than a whore. Tears threatened but she refused to let them spill down her cheeks.
The palanquin lowered to the ground and she looked up surprised they were at the beautiful towers of the king’s palace. Her mouth went dry and her flesh grew clammy as her ankles were unshackled. The stench of bodies overwhelmed her, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.
The brute behind her pulled her up, then forced her to her knees. He pushed her body forward, making her bend over the stool. The cold metal bit into her flesh of her belly and a cry of panic escaped her lips. Humiliation washed over her at the thought of being raped in public. Bile rose in her throat.
She whimpered as the guard pawed at her bottom. The crowd pressed in, their eyes glued on her naked rear. She heard the guards shouting, pushing the crowd back. A few stupid people didn’t move and were hit over the head. Ava watched at the guards pushed them to the ground and stomped on their skulls.
Two people rushed at her, but lost their lives before they touched her. The guards carried the dead and passed out to the pits at the base of the palace. The sound of the chained beasts below quieted the crowd for only a moment.
Ava closed her eyes. Meditation techniques her grandmother had taught her years ago might not save her from death, but they would quiet the voices threatening to overwhelm her. She tried focusing but couldn’t concentrate. The fear she’d experienced on the warrior’s field swelled into full-fledged terror, roiling through her like a speeding transport.
The shouts grew louder and Ava twisted around, looking for the source of the crowd’s excitement. The man behind her had dropped his pants, the tip of his penis touched her ass and his fingers clawed at her rump. Ava grabbed the base of the stool, and scrunched up her body, trying to get away from the men who held her down. Their grasps tightened. She let out a screech of terror, and tears rolled down her cheeks. The crowd boiled into frenzied yells and shrieks as the mass of bodies undulated around her. She forced her thoughts inward, desperately trying to meditate, but the sea of debauchery held her attention too tightly.
A sharp twang and a low whistle overhead brought a hushed silence to the crowd. She blinked twice when the man who had been ready to defile her dropped to the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at her as blood seeped around a blue arrow sticking out of his chest. Ava’s breath came fast.
A cold shiver snaked down her spine. Ava squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to block out the pain of this place. Gravel crunched near her head. She said a quick prayer before opening her eyes. A pair of clean, sandal clad feet stood next to the palanquin where she hunched in fearful submission.
“Stand.”
Ava hesitated. The real nightmare had shown up, ready to claim her as his. This had to the King of Zebulun, because only the king or a fool would interrupt the Zebulun men at their loathsome pastime of raping innocents.
“I said, stand.”
Her legs shook as she pulled herself to her full height. Drawing on the last ounce of inner core strength, she looked the man in the eyes. The intelligence she saw in the green depths of his gaze surprised her.
He studied her from head to toe. Angered by his blatant ogling, she returned his rudeness, sweeping her eyes from his muscular calves to his robed chest. He had the body of a warrior, chiseled to perfection. She shouldn’t have looked. Playing with fire was dangerous and the heat from looking at the king burned her insides. If he was supposed to be her prize for winning, she was doomed.
Rumors of his lack of integrity and comportment had reached her innocent ears on her home world. No matter how long he held her it would only delay the inevitable.
The king was rumored to be an ass of a man, encouraging the depravity ruling this planet. No woman was safe here. Most women fled if they could, but the rest were locked in slavery with no means of escape.
The hushed crowd waited for the king’s words. Anticipation glazed the eyes of the hopeful who wanted a public show of the king’s power. Ava suppressed the shiver threatening to zap her control.
“Guards, remove the waste from the streets.” His finger swung in her direction, his face impassive as stone. “You, come with me.”
The crowd groaned and Ava hesitated. Her life was over once she entered the palace. Regret ground at her insides. This wasn’t how her life was supposed to be. As the next in line for the throne of Gemariah, she would have been courted by the most powerful of men, not forced to submit to some low life despot. Even if she escaped this planet, the throne of Gemariah would never have her after being defiled in such a base manner.
There was no where to run. She was stuck with no hope of help.
A stick prodded her backside, and she stumbled forward. The instinct to cower in her nakedness overwhelmed her until she saw the unmistakable face of a Uralian chairman, the sworn enemy of her father’s people. With her head held high and firm breasts protruding, she walked regally behind the king, ignoring the nasty words flung in her direction.
The doors to the palace boomed shut behind her, and servants made a flurry of activity around the king. She looked up at the grand entrance; gold gilded statues graced the alcoves. The wealth was thrown around with little taste. The king waved off the servants and led her up the stairs to the third level. A bead of sweat trickled down her shoulder blade. He would make her one of his used women. She would be damned if she didn’t try to escape.
Her fingers itched for the knife she had sunk into the woman in the fighting circle. Her hand longed to hold the thick hilt and shove its wicked blade between the king’s ribs. She cringed at her thoughts. She wasn’t a killer unless given no other choice. The doors to the man’s private rooms closed behind her, and a set of locks clanked on the other side of the door. Fear raced through her, her eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape.
Finally her eyes locked with those of the cocky king. His mouth turned up at the corners, his gaze steady on her face. A strange tingle ran up her spine, one she couldn’t shake off. The king lowered his eyes and licked his lips. Her body grew uncomfortably hot.
How would it feel if he touched her? Would she cower in fear or would she welcome his strong hands roving over her skin. Her thoughts ground at her conscious. She would not be attracted to this man. His body rivaled the most beautiful male form she’d ever seen, but she refused to think about the king in that manner.
Fight, or die trying. She repeated her new motto in her head, the repetition giving her the only comfort she’d had in days.
“So, you want to kill me? Go shower first.” The king’s voice cut through her thoughts. He chuckled and pointed to a set of doors to his right.
“What?” Ava cocked her head to the side. The man’s laugh wasn’t harsh like she’d expected. The smile on his face was genuine and caring. The normalness of the situation shook her. Well, everything seemed normal except she was still naked.
“You need to bathe. Go, take care of it.”
Her legs wouldn’t move. As she stared at the king, wariness filled her. The stories of this man’s cruelty to women flashed through her mind. The hair on the back of her neck rose and goose flesh covered her arms.
He no longer watched her. Instead, he poured himself a glass of water and looked through a stack of papers on a gold gilded table. So this was the mighty king of Zebulun? Where was the raping and murdering bastard she expected?
Ava crept toward the bathroom, unwilling to turn her back to him. His eyes met hers and annoyance flashed across his features. Fear prickled down her arms. In an exasperated huff he grabbed her wrist and led her into the mirrored bathroom. She fought his hold on her arm, but the king’s strength overpowered hers.
He had no trouble holding onto her and turning the two knobs for the shower. Water sprayed from the gold fixture at the top. Ava stopped her struggling, staring at the water flowing freely from the faucet. She reached out and the cool liquid splashed on her hands. It tingled as it hit her skin and a bubble of pleasure expanded in her chest. She pushed her arm further under the spray, relishing in the sensation.
“Wow, I’ve never seen a water shower. Aren’t you concerned?”
“With what?”
“Wasting your water? Contaminating your supply?” Ava’s words sounded strange to her own ears. “We switched years ago, actually before I was born.”
The King’s hand loosened on her arm. Her gaze flashed around the room, looking for a weapon. The marbled surfaces were cleared of objects. The golden light fixtures looked securely fastened to the walls. There was nothing she could use. He let go of her arms and she turned her face to him.
“The water is not mine to worry about.”
“You should care more about your people.” She cringed, closing her mouth tight when she saw anger burning in his eyes. She’d gone too far. The people of Gemariah valued a woman’s opinion, but she knew the Zebulun people didn’t. He moved closer, encroaching on the little space she thought of as her own.
Her heart raced and her breasts grew warm. This couldn’t be excitement from being close to this man. Her people had grown out of the lust that the Zebuluns clung to. Shame washed over her. She would rather die than submit to his forced rule over her body and she’d be damned if she give of herself willingly.
The drugs from the dungeon masters were gone from her system, giving her more awareness than she’d had in days. Ava flexed her muscles, testing them. She had killed a woman today, but only through sheer luck.
She ran to escape, but the king’s hand clamped down on her arm, stopping her flight. Caught like a race-wing in a sticky web, she could do nothing.
“If you won’t take a shower on your own, I guess I’ll have to help.”
The water washed over her face as he shoved her into the confined space. She sputtered and coughed, wiping droplets from her nose and mouth. He chuckled gruffly behind her. She turned to glance at his face. He was laughing at her. She narrowed her eyes. Was he mocking her? The anger that had burned so hot from him had fled, leaving him looking almost boyish with the mischievous grin gracing his face.
Her captor pulled his robe off and threw it to the floor. Ava sucked in a startled gasp as he joined her under the spray. She kept her eyes glued to a spot on the wall, not daring to peek at his tight stomach or lean legs. She didn’t even want to think about the other parts, the ones she wasn’t supposed to know anything about.
Warm water cascaded over their bodies, sending rivulets of pleasure running down her skin. He turned her around so she could no longer see his face. His hands were on her, rubbing a slick bar of soap over her flesh. She wanted to rebel against his touch but couldn’t move away from the calming relief being clean brought.
A wave of shock hit her as he covered one breast with his hand. His fingers caressed her, stroking her nipple until it formed an urgent peak. The vibrating rush from his touch turned her body to molten fire. She wanted to be able to shrug off his touch and she should have, but part of her wanted to encourage him. To find out how much higher she’d go if he kept touching her.
Her rear pressed against his erection, and his shaft slid between the slit of her cheeks. She grew hot as erotic images of them connected filled her mind. The thought of the silky tip of his cock filling her pussy left her gasping for breath. The explicitness of her musings made fear run through her mind, leaving her wishing for escape. She pushed the thoughts of sex away, fighting the pull to turn around and let him do as he wished.
He pinched her butt and she gasped and jumped forward, swinging around to face him. “I won’t let you do this.”
He chuckled and amusement filled his eyes. “You don’t seem to be in the position to deny me.”
She spat in his face. “I would die before I let you touch me.”
The water ran in her eyes as he pulled her close. Anger flashed across his features. His hand lowered, resting inches above the hair covering her slit. Her heart slammed against her ribs and she feared that death was only seconds away. She jumped as his finger rotated in small circles, bringing her pleasure as unfamiliar to her as a water shower. Her breath caught in her throat, and the strength she thought she possessed fled. She melted against him, bliss shooting to her core, making her throb between her legs.
“Stop,” she whispered.
“I’m not even touching you where you want me to.”
“I don’t want this,” she protested. Her body ignored her words and her legs refused to hold her weight. She slouched against him. Her breast ached for his touch. She hated herself for wanting him.
“This is what you expected. No?” His fingers ran over her belly and around the edges of her breasts, ignoring her aching nipples. “All men from Zebulun are pigs, taking advantage of their captives. Do you really want me to stop?” He cocked an eyebrow, piercing her with a look, holding her in place.
She stayed silent as his fingers slid closer to the top of her slit. Sweet pain gathered between her legs reminding her why she’d been pierced. If she were wearing the clit ring now she’d beg him to touch it and give her relief. She wanted release but what kind of release she didn’t know. Emptiness engulfed her. There had to be more. His rod brush against her legs and she knew then what she wanted. Her body ached to couple with this man.
Her heart pounded and her head swam. She couldn’t let this man have her. Even though she would never rule Gemariah, she wouldn’t be this man’s sex slave.
“I won’t do this.” Her breathless whisper was unconvincing to her ears as it must have been to him.
Disgust filled his eyes as he pulled his hand from her belly and spun her around. Only his hands touched her and she missed the caress of his thighs pressing against hers and his cock resting against her body. Thick liquid drizzled onto her head. His fingers ran through her hair, working it into a rich lather. Her scalp tingled, sending a hot quiver of excitement cascading down her spine as he massaged her soapy mass of hair. A moan escaped her lips. This was way better than the bathhouses on Gemariah. There, only women skilled in impersonal touches washed the wealthy and royal. Her captor’s touches were demanding and sensual.
The caked-on, dirty feeling of the dungeons left her. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. His chest rumbled with laughter again. Her eyes flew open and she turned to face him. He spun her around quickly, forcing her to face the other way.
“Close your eyes.”
“No,” she spat.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He pushed her under the spray and soapy water ran down her face. The burning in her eyes forced them closed, and she lifted her hands to rub away the pain.
A soft cloth on her face soothed away the sting in her eyes. She blinked away the pain and tears, surprised at the gentleness of his touch.
“Better?” His voice was soft next to her ear.
“Why’d you do that?” Could this really be the king? When his hand was close to touching her pussy, he pulled away. He had yet to force his way into her. This wasn’t what she expected. Hell, she’d never thought she would last a day in the dungeon below, but now she found herself as the king’s personal sex slave and wondered if she’d be dead by morning. A chill snaked down her spine as she remembered the warning the official at the silk draped pavilion had offered. If he had his way, she would be dead.
“I asked the first question. Are your eyes better?”
“Yes.”
Still holding her arms above her head, he ran his other hand across her cheek and down her throat. His touch was soft, almost like satin on her skin. Tight emotions made her wanted to cry out in frustration. One minute he was rough, the next he was sweet and gentle. His hand stopped before he touched her breasts.
Ava silently cursed the unmistakable zing of arousal. Her breasts ached to be touched and caressed like before. Her nipples tightened at the thought of his fingers swirling around the dark circles on the tip before he pressed against the hard bud of her nipples. She wanted something more than what he had delivered so far.
“I’m not what you expected.” His voice held a challenge.
“You are exactly what I expected.” She wasn’t a liar by nature, but she wouldn’t let this man see inside of her.
“Ha. You lie like a goat. Bleating fabrications, though it’s plain to everyone in earshot you mean the opposite of what you say.”
“I’m not lying.” The indignant pride of her upbringing made her stand up taller.
“You want me to kiss you, to touch you.”
“No.” Horror filled her.
“No to which one? Ahh, but are you really in a position to say no?”
“What the hell do you mean?” Anger pulsed through her. He was a pig of a man. Once she was clean, he would rape her like he had so many others. Shame washed over her, not from his touch, but the fact she’d liked his hands on her body.
“You want me to touch you, but you can’t admit it.” His thick voice tickled her ears. The smug smile on his face turned her stomach because he was right.
“You are wrong,” she whispered hoarsely.
“So you can admit you want my hands on your body.”
“Stop this.”
“I think you want me to lick you.”
Shame burned her cheeks. The Zebulun king was a distant ancestor of her people. His skin held a darker hue, but he’d been born with the right equipment for her species. When he’d brushed his dick against her in the shower the shock had burned inside of her. She’d he would more than fill her pussy. A shiver snaked down her spine as anticipation filled her. She let her eyes drop to his smooth chest, a smattering of dark hair dipped low over his belly. She looked away, not wanting to concentrate on the thick rod between his legs.
“Don’t fight it. You want me to touch you. I can see it in your eyes.”
“No.” She turned from his gaze and closed her eyes, unwilling to let him see the pain he caused.
“You don’t really want me to leave. Let me guess, you’re beginning to think, what the hell. Your life as a princess has been ruined.”
Hatred boiled through her. Using a reserve of strength she didn’t know she had, she pushed him away and bolted from shower. The water pooled on the floor behind her and she slipped, coming down hard on her knee.
“Damn.” His voice was close. She could almost sense his breath on her neck, and then she heard him slip, too.
Clawing her way to stand, she ran for the glass doors at the opposite side of his bedroom. Yanking at the handles, she pulled them open and burst into the courtyard. The heat was immediately oppressing, but she didn’t care. She was free.