Fortune Favours (pm to join)

Fortune Favours (closed for PleasureBot69)



King Erik of Brome
Age: 25

Following a smart carriage Erik kicked his horse to spur it on as he rode, silently sneering at the land he could see around him, land that he intended would one day be his. Although he'd brought a significant number of his soldiers with him he knew no-one in Ardall would even think to stop him, they all thought he would be coming to offer his best wishes for the forthcoming nuptials, but Erik had other plans.

The kingdom of Ardall neighboured that of Brome, the kingdom which had become his own since his father, the old king, had sadly passed away not two months before. Not that Erik grieved deeply, he'd poisoned the man himself. Now he didn't have to pretend, didn't have to act the dutiful heir and loving son, he could finally be himself.

Ever since Erik's mother had died in childbirth, Erik's father had doted on his son, ordering that anything he wished for should be given to him. The only thing Erik was denied was his father's precious time, spoiling the boy until he was as rotten as his father had been kind. The two old kings of Brome and Ardall had been firm friends until the king of Ardall had died four years before, leaving his fourteen year old daughter heiress to the kingdom and the lords of the land in charge until she came of age, married and could rule, for the law dictated a single woman could not rule the kingdom. And rather than accept Erik's betrothal and seek to join the two lands the girl decided to wed Lord Rowan, one of her father's knights instead, angering Erik until he could not deny his hunger for power any longer. If he couldn't have what he wanted any other way he would take it by force and he intended to have precisely what he wanted from now on.

Sullenly Erik gestured to his soldiers to ride faster, soldiers who had found themselves very quickly promoted in the new king's army when they allowed their meaner sides to show. They were but a few hundred feet from the princess' carriage now and he wanted to cover the distance as quickly as possible, didn't want there to be any chance of being seen or any alarm being raised until he'd completed his plans.

Drawing level with the carriage the group surrounded the vehicle and it's guards, pulling their swords. A frantic fight ensued as the Ardall soldiers realised their true intention but they'd been caught by surprise and it wasn't long before Erik's men had left no-one alive but the princess. Erik ordered two of his soldiers to leave their horses and jump aboard the carriage to drive the contraption. He himself dismounted and reached for the door to get to his prize inside.

Magdalena Solesti of Ardall, now eighteen years old but as pure, virginal and elegant as when she had first become the heir to the kingdom, shuddered with a sudden stab of fear as her men roared with pain outside the carriage. When she had heard the clopping of hooves coming towards her, Magdalena had assumed it would be further escorts - perhaps merchants - maybe even a local priest riding through this part of the land - but never had she expected Erik of Brome.

As she quickly realized what was happening - some kind of bandit raid on the carriage - she leaped to her feet, just short enough at 5'9" to fit inside the carriage without touching the roof, and tried to secure the door. But it was already opening, and with a look of anguish briefly flashing over her face, she suddenly realized who was standing before her.

And it all made sense.

"Erik...the soldiers...our families...what have you done?" she demanded, looking at him with the look of a cornered tigress. In a flash, she had drawn a dirk from the side of the carriage. It was a blade she little knew how to use, and shorter even than a short-sword, but she wielded it as best she could, standing her ground.

She stood tall for a woman of this age, wearing a dark gown of crimson with a necklace of black links around her neck that bore a small silver pentagram, symbol of the Ardall line. The gown served to cover her whole form, but Erik would easily detect the strong bosom and sensually shaped hips that were hidden beneath these robes. She wore black velvet gloves on her hands, suggesting a distaste for touching anything that related to travel, horses or the road, and the little blade, hardly more than a knife, trembled slightly in her hand. She told herself that she trembled in anger.

Magdalena's large eyes narrowed as she took in the intruder more fully. He seemed imposing, and filled with a strange purpose she could not quite detect. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded again, without having given him time to answer. Her full lips seemed to spit the words at him, and she glared with all the authority she could summon in her fear.

As he flung open the door Erik took in the sight of Magdalena standing fiercely, a small blade in hand, in a moment and smiled. She was drawn up to her full height, not able to match his at 6’2 but considerable for a woman nevertheless. Her eyes flashed fire and venom towards him but this only increased Erik’s lust to have her as his possession. His gaze travelled down her body, noting with amusement the tiny blade she’d found to try and scare him away with but more so noticing the perfectly formed body that lay beneath her gown, wanting to touch her already.

Erik slowly raised the long sword he held, stained slightly with the blood of one of her own guards, allowing the point to gently rest upon the pendant she wore, intending to keep a barrier between her doing something stupid with the paltry dirk and show her he wasn’t about to be argued with.

“Good day my lady” he greeted. “I should put that knife down if I were you, my intention is not to see either of us wounded and I’m sure I have no need to debate which of us has the better skills with a blade. Since you ask so pleasantly however I shall tell you I have done merely what I needed to gain a certain asset I desire, which would be you my lady. I intend to take this carriage and its cargo for my possession and use them both as I see fit.”

Erik gave Magdalena a moment to take in what he’d told her but was becoming irked by her effort to resist him. He wanted to get her back to his castle as soon as possible, see his plan start to come to fruition.

“However we do not have the time to dally about with empty threats” he told the princess, growing impatient. “I am willing to take you with me or take your life here and now but I will have one or other before the day is out, decide quickly which it shall be”.

He stood staring intently at her pretty face as he waited, his brown eyes boring into hers. If she was really stupid enough to prefer death over capture he needed to know now or his future plans would be of no use.

Feeling the tip push suggestively against the pendant, threatening to cut her throat, Magdalena recoiled back a step, finding the rear boundary of the carriage frighteningly close behind her. She breathed deeply, eyes still burning into Erik's, before slowly letting the blade slip from her hand. It clattered noisily on the wood of the carriage's bottom, and she stepped forward again, so that Erik's sword would briefly flash up against her throat again. Proudly she gazed at him, as if the cold steel meant nothing, though a small mark of blood was left where it touched.

"You don't scare me. A real man would never threaten a royal lady, let alone with a sword against her flesh. But I will not throw my life away. Where are you going to take me, knave?"

Breathing deeply, she swallowed hard, determined to show no fear. Erik's reference to using "both [her and the carriage] as I see fit" seemed to have an ugly undertone that confused her deeply. What exactly did this traitor have in mind?

Erik watched the princess with interest, both irritated and impressed by the feisty spirit she was showing. He looked forward to breaking her spirit in future like one of his wild horses. Sheathing his own sword Erik climbed into the carriage, laid his foot over the discarded blade and kicked it out of the door, pulling the door to a close to seal both of them inside.

He suddenly curled an arm around Magdalena’s waist, dropping to one of the seats and pulling her awkwardly into his lap until their faces were mere inches apart, smirking at her.

“If I were you I would not be quite so eager for me to show you what kind of man I am” he mused. “There will be plenty of time for that yet, have no fear. And we are returning to Brome Castle, although I shall tell you more about what I intend to do with you when I see fit. I expect you to learn quickly that you are now my possession and shall be treated as such. You shall obey any rules and orders I give to you or accept the consequences. And the first rule you must learn is to accept me as your king and master from now on.”

Thumping his fist against the side of the carriage to signal his men, Erik waited until the carriage took off and gained speed before releasing his grip of Magdalena.

“I suggest you sit and try to enjoy the journey” he instructed her.

Magda struggled against Erik when he dragged her into his lap, and when he released her she stumbled against the far side of the carriage, settling herself with as much dignity as she could muster. Feeling the thunder of the rolling carriage, Magdalena wondered what exactly was coming next. Erik had all but suggested that she was to be his sex-slave, an object for his amusement. The thought made her angrier than ever, afraid, and slightly ...

No, nothing but angry and afraid. Magdalena chided herself. In her younger years, she had thought of Erik as being handsome, even desirable, but those years were passed. She was engaged. The marriage was going to happen. Her virginity was for her partner, not for this rogue, this traitor.

"I don't respond well to threats," she finally said, after a long silence. Realizing she sounded sulky, she frowned, glaring up at him. "What do you think is going to happen when my fiancee realizes what has happened? Do you think you'll have a head by the end of the week?" Her smile was almost cruel, though still tinged with a desperation at the edges.

As Magdalena finally spoke again Erik chuckled, less with genuine mirth as trying to irritate the princess. He didn’t intend the haughty princess to think she could argue with him or get the upper hand from now on.

“Is your dear fiancé going to remove my head himself? And how do you suggest he’d even get near enough to do so – my men outnumber those of Ardall considerably, do you really believe the lords would risk war simply to retrieve you and lose the power they enjoy now? I’d get used to your predicament princess, you won’t be returning to your old life any time soon.”

Sitting back as the carriage lurched along rapidly, Erik let his eyes travel over Magda’s form once again, his lust growing as he anticipated returning to Brome Castle, being able to run his kingdom exactly the way he wanted, most of all within the castle walls.

"Yes," Magdalena replied simply, tersely. "Yes, he will remove your head personally. Justice is a powerful force, and soldiers fighting to recover a pure and celestial princess will fight with ten times the strength of mercenaries fighting for an infamous monster. These actions of yours will be your ruin. You have traded away any trust people could ever place in you. You will forever be known as a traitor."

Folding her arms, she avoided eye contact with him, as if too disgusted by his morals to gaze upon him. "And your...theatrics don't impress me. About controlling me, owning me...that nonsense." It was her way of stirring the pot on his implied comments and his wandering eye. Almost like a challenge, she pretended that it was 'safe territory' for discussion, hoping to draw him out into revealing what he had in mind for her. Perhaps he only intended to lock her up in an isolated chamber. Was she reading too much into his intentions?

Aware that she was slouching slightly, betraying the very top ridge of her breastline, she tugged at her gown, covering herself more completely. She wished she could cover her bare neck. Often her fiancé had whispered that he thought her neck her sweetest quality, her most delicate feature. Now it felt exposed and...too sensual, in this closed room, with this despised man.

“I don’t require your people’s trust” Erik replied with an insulted tone, quickly tiring of her spirit and increasingly irritated with the freedom which Magdalena spoke back to him. “And my own people are well cared for and know better than to challenge me if they wish to keep it that way. I admire your faith however that your lord will still risk his life for you and your people will still look upon you as ‘pure’ once they realise you have become my property rather than simply give you up to look after their own interests.” he smiled cruelly.

“And something else you will learn my lady..” he uttered, now giving the word a sarcastic tone, “is that I am not a patient man. If you challenge me for control, require proof of my word, I will almost certainly show you just what I can do.”

Wrenching the length of material which held one of the carriage curtains back from its place, Erik darted towards Magdalena and forcefully gripped her hands together within his, tying her wrists together tightly enough to bruise. Looking around for something else he ripped a length of the curtain itself and pulled it around her head until it slipped between her lips, gagging the princess. As a last gesture of insult he gripped the top of her dress he’d noticed her try so hard to keep up modestly and pulled it down until the curve of her milky white cleavage sat proudly above the neckline of her gown.

Sitting back in his place smugly to admire his handiwork, Erik stared at Magdalena as if willing her to try and question him further.

“I’d hoped you’d behave more as a lady and not have to be trussed like a captured slave but one way or another you will learn the first rule I have set for you. Now that you are quiet, you may as well sleep if you wish, we still have some journey ahead of us.”

Erik spent the rest of the journey looking out at the countryside as it changed from the boundaries of Ardall into that of his own kingdom. He kept his gaze away from Magdalena, determining to himself that he could not give into his anger and lust now, he needed to wait until he could undertake the very plan he’d dreamt of. He only looked back to the princess as the carriage started to slow and his own castle came into view on the horizon. Leaning over he untied the gag from the princess’ mouth but thought it wise to keep her hands restrained.

“Pleasant journey?” he mocked.

Even with her hands tied, Magda had been pulling her bound hands up to somewhat cover her breasts. But when Erik had made it clear that he was not going to be looking towards her (she wondered why), she ceased to bother. She wanted to sleep, but knew that this was not going to happen. At first, when he had pounced, she had tried to speak through the gag, finding it increasingly difficult to produce any sound, and unclear even to herself.

With the gag out, she had to stop herself from unleashing a torrent of hateful, wrathful speech. For now, however, there would not be a point. This was Erik's castle, not her own. If she tried to run, she would be caught - if she tried to call for help, Erik would simply gag her again. She had to keep her wits about her, no matter how strong the call for liberty and escape. Still, she was self-conscious about the top of her breasts being exposed. Beneath the gown was still a corset, but the top edges of her full bosom was now tickled by the air. (Image of the corset: http://cdn101.iofferphoto.com/img/i...p-corset-lingerie-g-string-s-m-l-xl-2cd07.jpg). More aggravatingly, the corset was a decorative, almost a 'bedroom' sort of affair, which she had intended for the eyes of her husband on their wedding night. Now it was for Erik's viewing pleasure.

"Will you please," Magda said, teeth gritted against being polite, but somehow managing, "pull up my gown? I'd rather not be shown off to your guardsmen, if you'd be so kind." Her eyes looked up at his with the look of a cornered tigress. To be seen with her breasts half-out by the commoners constituting the guards, would soil her reputation.

Once Erik removed the gag he’d expected to hear every empty threat under the sun but was impressed by the princess’s angry determination, as well as caught by the garment which peeked out from underneath her dress. He’d been right not to stare at her throughout the journey, he’d have been sorely tempted to do something rash rather than what he really wanted.

“You’ll soon find that what you’d rather do is of no consequence here.” Erik chided Magdalena with a smile of amusement darting around his lips. Now he was back within his own castle grounds he felt relaxed once again, knew that now he was back with his prize he was free to indulge his every wish once again – the whole reason he’d lusted to be king in the first place. There was no point having power if you’d only concentrate on helping others and not yourself, his father had made that mistake.

“Nevertheless, seeing as you asked so politely” he went on when the carriage had stopped within the castle, “I feel inclined to grant your request, allow you for now what little modesty you still foolishly believe you will be entitled to. But I expect an act of obedience in return and I warn you, if you bite or try to harm me in any way the pain you shall receive will be a hundredfold in return. That is my second rule for your stay here.”

Leaning over, Erik cupped Magdalena’s chin and held it firmly as he pressed his lips against hers for a long moment. Her mouth was soft and she smelt as fresh as a spring flower, Erik had to control himself not to plunder her mouth there and then, wanting to slowly introduce her to what he expected of her rather than attack her before they’d even walked into the castle chambers.

Darting the princess a self-satisfied smile, Erik looked down to the line of her bosom and slowly ran his fingers across the smooth skin before sliding the material up an inch or two to conceal her undergarment. Opening the carriage door Erik stepped out and held his hand out for Magdalena to disembark also.

Magdalena felt herself surprised at every new moment with Erik. He had surprised her by tugging open her garment before; and now he reversed her re-aligned expectations, and surprised her with his fairness. There was a kind of reasonableness in his being open to close her garment when she asked politely - even if one might suggest that he had no right to choose in the first place. There was a kind of reasonableness in his expecting a kiss in exchange for complying with her request, given that he could do whatever he wanted - even if strictly speaking, he had no right to capture her in the first place. The point was, that he was - within the confines of his being a villain and a rogue - just. This might not be a court in a kingdom of her choosing, but he was at least a sane judge. Actions would have consequences under his rule, even if the power was entirely on his side.

What Magda dreaded more than exploitation or harm, was arbitrariness - the idea that no matter what she did, the consequences would be equally awful. This all gave her the sign that there were degrees of slavery, degrees of awful, degrees of oppression - and that she had some limited control over where she would end up.

Despite all this reasoning, she was surprised when he kissed her almost gently. His breath was fresh and light, his lips strong and skillful - she had rather more expected the smell of booze, and an over-eager tongue. Not that Magdalena had been kissed before, but she found the experience...less awful than she had anticipated. Still, her lips were not for this man, only for her husband on their wedding night, and when he released her, she struggled back with a disconcerted look on her face.

He adjusted her gown, and she looked at him with mingled annoyance and gratitude. Her conflict only increased as she took his hand, descending to the turf on the approach to the castle. Trying to maintain her manners, she spoke slowly, tersely, "thank you", choking back her anger. "Who would have thought a rogue to be a gentleman?" she asked ironically, intentionally toeing the line. She walked with him as he desired, towards the castle and her fate.

Erik found himself bemused by the looks flashing towards him across Magdalena’s face, unable to help wondering what she was thinking, finding himself now to want to possess not only her person and her kingdom but also her mind. He looked forward to controlling her spirit but decided he did not want to break her, her resolve in keeping her tongue, forcing herself to be polite despite everything that had happened to her so far was more than he’d expected from her.

“A king has the luxury of choosing to be a gentleman and a rogue if he wishes” Erik replied. “Which is why I think I may enjoy the role so greatly.”

The light was starting to dim just a little as they headed into the castle, the day was drawing on and Erik knew that although the guards of Ardall would be dispatched as soon as possible it would have taken some time for the lords to realise the princess had been delayed too long, then taken more time still for them to find any witness or sign of where she’d gone. Even if they rode at full speed and risked the horses Erik doubted they’d arrive before nightfall had fully taken hold, leaving them tired, disorientated and in no fit state to challenge him even if they intended to.

“Bar the gates” he called to one of his knights. “Have as many men on watch tonight as can be spared. If a party from Ardall arrive let them camp outside in peace but no-one enters the castle walls tonight.”

Leaving Magdalena’s hands tied, Erik slid his arm around her waist in order to both prevent her from bolting if she had any ideas to, and to guide her into the castle. Her waist was slim and he could feel every curve of her body as she moved, increasing his impatience to have her but he checked himself, there was a time for everything and even he would respect that. One of the maids rushed to greet him, Erik slid the outer armour from his shoulders and handed it to the girl who struggled but held it valiantly.

“Is everything prepared in my rooms?” he asked the girl who nodded her assent. Tightening his grip, Erik guided Magdalena swiftly up grand flights of stairs until they reached a door guarded by no less than four soliders.

Once inside Erik saw to his satisfaction the room containing his large bed and furniture also now contained a lavish dinner spread over a dining table, and a bath which steamed warmly, as well as a thin blue nightdress lying across the bed which looked incongruous in the man’s room. Two maids who’d evidently only just finished their preparation hurried past them and Erik bolted the door. Quickly removing his chainmail and weapons he took a small knife and cut the princess’ bonds, leaving her standing somewhat freely in the middle of the room.

Only one chair sat at the table and Erik sank into it, tired and ravenous from the day’s exploits. Filling a goblet with water he left it on the side of the table and gestured to Magdalena.

“Come, drink, you must be parched from the journey. I’m afraid that as my property you must earn your food, as my dogs and horses do, but feel free to drink as much as you like. I ordered a bath to be drawn and suitable clothes in readiness for your arrival, I expect you to use both immediately unless you wish to suggest you don’t require my hospitality.” he instructed with a cruel smile.

Filling his plate, Erik ate hungrily but watched Magdalena with amusement to see how she’d take his orders.

"As your dogs and horses do. I see."

Princess Magdalena stood for a moment just gazing at Erik, as if she did not know how to respond to such audacity. "I am to earn my place as your dogs and horses do. In service to their master. In the case of dogs, to trot by their master's side. In the case of horses, to be ridden at his whim." She said these words apparently without humor, seemingly not having heard the innuendo 'riding' for sexual encounters. If that had been an intentional reference, Magda had a singularly dry sense of irony.

"Erik, I'm not sure that we are on the same page regarding my stay here. It was my understanding that I was to submit to your authority as far as a king's authority may stride. I assumed I was still to be treated as the royalty that I remain, even through this trial. For example, I am not going to undress before you to use this bath. And yet because this is but a single room, and there is no curtain, that appears to be your intention. Please explain how exactly you think this is going to play out."

Towards the garment on the bed, Magda gave a look of scorn. "I wouldn't have a maid of mine wear such a thing," she said with distaste. "A lady of the night would blush at such a garment."

"As to your hospitality, I do seek it. However, you are stepping over the bounds of what is permitted a lady of virtue." Again the fires burned in her eyes. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were merely exploiting my vulnerability."

OOC: Something like this? http://www.nightwearforwomen.com/im...rim-nightdress-chemise-for-women_2903_500.jpg

[OOC: Yep, something like that]

Erik smirked at Magdalena’s haughty replies, continuing to eat his meal, allowing her to finish her declarations as he regarded her in quiet contemplation. Finally he spoke, his eyes glittering dangerously. Anger brewed at her insolence but simultaneously Erik felt a rush of adrenalin, wanting to show her how much power he could wield over her and knowing he would be able to.

“You seem to be suffering from the mistaken idea that you have any rights or privileges in this situation, which I assure you is not the case. Let me be absolutely clear, from this moment on if I treat you as a princess it is because I wish to, not because you are a princess and entitled to that honour. If I treat you as a servant it is because I wish to, not because you are a servant and entitled to that role. If I treat you as a slave it is because that is what you are and because you belong to me now. That is the truth of your current situation. If you wish to behave as a princess that is your choice but, as with many choices you could make, you will find that behaviour to be….. incompatible with your current life. And if I preserve your virtue it is also because I choose to, not because I am subject to any of the rules of chivalry you have come to expect. I am the king, my power here is absolute and it would be better for you to learn that quickly.” Erik broke off curtly, his eyes flashing with fire towards her.

“I shall indeed tell you exactly how I expect this to play out – you will remove every piece of clothing you are wearing right here in this room in order that I may observe and appreciate my latest jewel. You will bathe in this room and finally you will dress in the garment I have provided and want for nothing more or less as your master has deemed it fit for you. As a living creature you are free to disobey my orders, as my property you will be punished if you choose to. I warn you, you have but a moment to decide.”

Erik pushed his plate away and downed his goblet of wine, ready to act if she would not obey him.

Without saying a word, Magda absorbed this torrent of imperious command. She did not make a sign. It seemed that she had realized that 'all was lost', or had simply grown weary of argument. She walked towards the bed, picking up the thin garment and looking at it draped in her hand like a handkerchief (and not much larger either, she found herself thinking in irritation). Moving to the bath, she laid it down on the far side of the tub from Erik, turning momentarily to meet his eyes. Placing herself on that same far side of the tub - as though afraid he might suddenly pounce on her when she stripped down, and she might require a barrier - she turned away from him.

Gingerly, she removed her necklace, placing it down on the ground. Kneeling from this action, she removed her stockings from beneath her gown, shivering as her bare feet touched the floor. Again, she turned back, eyes accusing and yet somehow vulnerable even in the accusation, as if somehow asking permission to be indignant. Something about the slide towards nudity replaced her anger with more troublesome emotions.

In the development of emotional knowledge, fear comes long before pride. Pride is perhaps the last emotion we understand, for it requires a separation of self from community, and a privilege of the first over the second; it requires accomplishments - if only to inflate them - or a perception of human virtue - if only to misperceive oneself by these standards.

Fear, however, is basic. Dogs and even rats know fear, scuttling from a threat of storm or violence. Under the condition of fear that Magdalena now felt - that Erik truly might be mad enough to hurt her if she did not comply - her pride shrunk away. It was not damaged or lessened, but like a muscle from which the blood had flowed away, it withered for a time.

Escaping the confines of the gown took Magda several seconds more, during which time she held back her tears admirably. Finally loosening the remainder of the heavy garment, she scooted out of it. Half-concealed behind the tub, and turned away from Erik where he sat still dining, she felt reasonably assured of her dignity so far.

She tugged out of her delicate silk panties, feeling humiliated to have her bare bottom graze against the floor, and unfastened the elaborate bindings of the corset she wore, until it too lay on the floor. Naked at last, she gazed back at Erik, as if hoping for a moment in which he would not be looking, and eventually tried to hurl herself bodily into the tub, as if to minimize how much of a glance Erik might have of her. This resulted in something of a splash, sending a small amount of water over the rim, but mostly ended in a rather uncomfortable Magda, as she had struck her breasts against the side of the tub nearest Erik, and banged her knee.

Feeling stupid and even ugly from her attempts to protect her modesty, and their consequences, she sat sulking in the tub, sinking most of the way down into the water as if hoping to drown. She attempted to cover herself with her hands, not surprisingly giving first priority to her hidden entrance, and secondary priority to her considerable breasts - something of a difficult task, especially with the confusing refractory qualities of water...

Although she was obviously unhappy about doing so, Erik was pleased to see Magdalena begin to obey his instructions. He let his eyes drift over her form as he watched her every move, finding the princess’ modesty charming as she tried to conceal herself, her uncertainty as different thoughts and feelings flitted across her face was almost as appealing as her undressing. He knew she didn’t feel the same though, desperate to hide herself, racing ungracefully into the bath tub and appearing to try and blend into it.

Erik felt his own emotions flickering as he watched her. He wanted to possess her, use her to gain some unearned jealous revenge upon the kingdom of Ardall, show off his power, control her as a priceless slave. After all any fool with enough gold could buy a slave or whore or servant as he wished and think no more of the matter, but the princess could only be bought with his own power, to take her from her own kingdom and then keep her, which excited Erik more than mere wealth and made Magdalena priceless to him. Yet already he could see what a curious mixture of fight and fear, pride and anxiety, arrogance and innocence lay within her now and felt somehow softened towards her without his lust for her decreasing. He knew what he planned to do would hurt her pride, her status, her wishes and sometimes her body, and didn’t wish to change his mind, but now Erik wanted the princess to see that he didn’t want to destroy her, didn’t want to be cruel simply for cruelty’s sake.

Rising, Erik strode over to the tub and knelt beside it, pushing the sleeves of his undershirt up to his elbows as he saw her efforts to keep her most sacred parts away from his eyes. She couldn’t conceal everything however hard she tried though, and Erik dipped a hand into the warm water, letting his fingers trail slowly across her belly before he spoke.

“Do not mistake my intention to have you for my own as a desire simply to harm you. A good rider may whip his horse to teach it to obey, or force it to travel many miles across ground it would prefer not to tread, for the wish of the master is more important than the wish of the servant. However the rider would not allow the horse to do more than it could bear and would look after it’s wellbeing as his own. I understand how far that is below the expectations of a princess, just as the bounds of a stable are despicable to a wild stallion, but over time you will choose either to accept your fate and allow yourself to be shaped by a good master or resist forever and become as a beast who cannot be tamed and must be given to an unscrupulous master.”

Flattening his palm against her belly, Erik lazily stroked across Magdalena’s skin, his eyes darting between her body and her face to observe her completely. Slowly his hand slipped higher, grazing the bottom of her breasts yet blocked by her arm from continuing further. His other hand seized her wrist, removing the barrier, and he gently cupped one mound, allowing his fingers to explore the soft flesh there, drifting around her nipple before he repeated the process upon her other breast, still holding her arm firm in his grip.

"A beautiful jewel does not choose whether it graces a holy man's altar or a tyrant's crown, but it must perform its function equally." Erik instructed the princess as he fondled her skin. "And you may no longer choose to marry a knight or become my slave but you will serve just as rich a purpose, and be enjoyed just as much. There is little point trying to hide yourself from me, once you have bathed I intend to explore you completely." he finished, his lust now evident in his tone.

As he spoke with surprising clarity and unity on the subjects of taming, mastering and possessing, Magda seemed to be listening with remarkable attentiveness. Nevertheless, the gradual conquest of his hands over the virgin territories of her body began to grow increasingly burdensome to her capacity to form rational argument. It was still mostly dread that flooded over her as his hands explored at their will. But mixing with that sense, was a second one: that he was truly lordly, that he was going to possess her - a sense of the inevitable, even if not a love or appreciation of it. It did not add or subtract from her resentment or indignation.

Still, it remained there. The sense that her becoming his was inevitable just sat there, stronger likely than her passionate rage; inevitable itself. And the two thoughts, back and forth:

"This bastard! How dare he!"
"...but he has all the power. You can't do anything. Your resistance is...well, also inevitable. But to no effect."
"Shut up! This is wrong - wrong - wrong!"

And at last she said this, eyes locked on his, as if oblivious to his exploring hands. "This is wrong. You know that you are acting unjustly. Why do you try to cloud the matter with rhetoric? I am not a gem. I am a person."

She at last surrendered this field entirely, retreating to a stronger fortress where she might await his inevitable pursuit: cupped between her legs, her hands seemed clenched to the point of turning white. Involuntarily, her nipples began to redden and harden as he continued to touch her, and Magda felt this with a dissociative sense of detachment: the thought crossed her mind in observing this simultaneity that it's almost like the nipples are communicating with each other. Feeling herself respond on at least this level, hating her body for the betrayal, she murmured softer, "stop...wrong..." as if her mind was melting in the hot water.

She was not accustomed to very hot water - a matter of personal preference for the moderate and temperate - and felt her head swimming faintly, especially under the pressures of the day. Erik seemed faintly blurred to her, so that the sense of touch began to predominate her world.

Suddenly, it dawned on her that she was entirely surrendering her breasts, that her nipples were hard, and that Erik was smiling down at her like a boy with a new toy. She felt a strange warmth in her abdomen that seemed to step beyond the warmth of the water. Humiliated both in her knowledge of her early stages of arousal - and in her knowledge of his knowledge of the same - Magda suddenly shrieked angrily at Erik "you bastard!" and caught one of his arms in both of hers, suddenly biting his forearm as she gripped him. It was hardly a hard bite, rather more likely to sting than to spill blood, but the sudden burst of ferocity would be likely to surprise him, even make him recoil. It was as though she had been pushed too far, pushed onto a stage of humiliation, and could not allow herself to accept what had been happening.

The moment he pulled back, assuming he did, she would fall back into the tub, immediately letting him go. If he persisted, she would simply grip and bite a little tighter.

As he stroked across her bosom, Erik found himself gazing into Magdalena’s eyes, enjoying the feel of her body but also entranced by the discomfort he found in her expression, that she seemed to be battling a hatred of him but also seemed on the verge of responding to his touch. He flattered himself that taming her would be easier than he’d thought. She was trying to maintain an affronted position but slowly she seemed to be losing the fight against him, even her words tailing off as if she didn’t have the will to resist enough.

Smug in his own success, Erik was utterly caught by surprise as she screeched at him and took hold to bite him. He jumped up, the pain more a shock than a wound but still not unremarkable. Magdalena let go as he stepped back and for a moment he simply looked at her in astonishment before a roar of anger surged through him.

“Bitch!” he cursed, uncharacteristically losing his cool. Then, taking hold of the princess’ arms, Erik hauled her from the bath tub and threw her onto the bed. Opening a chest at the base of the bed, Erik reached into the collection of items he’d collected previously and took out a small pair of forged metal shackles. Approaching Magdalena again he twisted her arms behind her back until he had attached both to her wrists and she lay face down among the covers. Flattening his palm he brought it down with strength upon one then the other of her buttocks over and over until the skin glowed red and his own hand was stinging with the force. Having exhausted most of his anger toward her, Erik stood and caught his breath before addressing her more calmly, yet his voice still held an edge of fury.

“I warned you of the consequences of trying to harm me. I do not wish to hurt you but I will do so if necessary to achieve my wishes and if you defy me you will suffer for it. At least for the time being you have saved yourself from the ordeal of having to wear the garment you so detested – you can stay bare instead. You will find I am not a monster, I do not require you to become inhuman and give in willingly to that which you abhor, you resisted my touch in the bath and so I was gentle in my exploration but you will lose my favour if you try to disobey me. Now, lay on your back, so I may examine the modesty which is so worth fighting for, or I will put you there myself.”

Magda felt herself humiliated, miserable and face-down on the bed - and was not sure which was the worst part of these. After he had thrown her on the bed, she was first conscious of how wet and over-heated she still felt, although as she lay there taking a spanking from Erik, the heat slowly drained out of most of her body - only her buttocks felt stinging-hot. They also glowed quite red, which matched the color of her face at that moment.

She lay there, writhing slightly in discomfort, resistance and annoyance - not realizing how sexy of an image it made to have her twisting in her bonds, bare-ass naked and exposed. Like all royalty known to history, she had a poor sense of when she was being ridiculous until she was actually laughed at, and thought of herself as the virtuous virgin struggling against the bandit - a righteous struggle, no matter how unbalanced the fight.

Eventually though, she succumbed to the stinging blows against her unprotected backside. Lying still, she listened to him berate her, feeling more miserable than before. When he ordered her to roll over and show herself, she realized that his will was no longer negotiable or arguable. Further understanding now, that he would always act on his word - and his impulse - she realized that he was sincere about flipping her over if she did not. Wanting to have at least some control over her situation, she began to try and turn over - a surprisingly difficult task considering her bonds.

She managed to roll onto her side, with her back still mostly to Erik, before pausing. It was not as though she could not complete the action - it was easy enough to 'fall over' now that she was on her side. But she could not bear the thought of rolling over and exposing her breasts, and her virgin opening, and her trimmed pubic hair - to this brute of a man. Nor did she have the will to tell him to go and die in a fire.

Instead, she pleaded quietly. "Don't make me...this body is for my husband. I'm scared of you - you win - but I just can't...don't make me..." Nor did she want to willingly turn her perky nipples to him, knowing what it suggested about her morals, about what her body made of the matter. She was now more conscious of - on some level - desiring Erik, and the thought scared the hell out of her. Strangely, he was tapping into one of her adolescent fantasies: to be cuffed, or bound, or tied down, and toyed with by a big, strong man...the thought was putting her on the edge of becoming wet, and she was struggling not to become the object of his fantasies: and hers.

Hearing Magdalena’s pleas Erik calmed further, softened towards her by her evident fright but more so by her surrender. He didn’t want her to fear him too deeply, have nothing to fill her mind but dread, yet her fear was erotic, his lust for her increasing with his control of her.

Gently pulling her hip so she fell onto her back, Erik regarded the princess with pleasure, knowing this was the last thing she wanted but unable to resist gazing up and down her slender body, seeing those parts of her no-one had yet been granted permission to gaze upon and still had not, except that he had taken the liberty himself.

“This body was for your husband but it is no longer” he replied softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and facing her. “Now you are mine, and will remain so, but you have nothing to fear if you accept that. I will continue, but I do not intend to merely defile you and cast you out, you will be under my control but also my protection – barring the ceremony is that not equal to marriage anyway?” he smiled, knowing he was teasing her.

Laying his hand across her belly once again, knowing this time he would not be abruptly interrupted, Erik stroked his fingertips across her skin as he had in the tub but this time enjoyed the unfettered access. Boldly he stroked across her breasts, noting with amusement that her nipples showed signs of responding to him but he chose not to humiliate her further by pointing any of his observations out. His hand cradled each soft mound, his fingers gently moulding her flesh underneath them, his thumb flicking over her nipple as he watched her face for every reaction.

“Do you think your future husband valued you for more than your power?” Erik asked genuinely. “Lord Rowan would have seen this heavenly body as a way to produce an heir, little more, he would not have appreciated your beauty as I do or known how to put you to such good use, either for his pleasure or for yours. I admit your main purpose now to be to please me, rather than a wife and queen, but I can also guarantee that in a month I will have taught you more about pleasure than Lord Rowan could in a lifetime, and isn’t that better for both of us?”

Erik’s hand drifted back to Magdalena’s stomach and he glanced further down her body lustfully.

"Lord Rowan," Magda murmured indignantly, "is beyond your comprehension, sir."

She was finding it hard to think. The fingers dancing and flicking over her nipples was making them rock-hard, throbbing almost painfully, and she felt herself desiring lips to kiss them and moisten them, to suck them and give her pleasure. But she was hardly going to say such a thing! Instead, she writhed uncomfortably on the bed, trying to feel any looseness in her bonds.

Seeing her captor's gaze traveling downwards, she clenched her thighs together. "You're disgusting," she spat at Erik, hating him for his casual dominance, and the way he was utterly clothed while she lay there utterly naked beneath his gaze. "You're disgusting, disgusting, disgusting." She shivered, and twisted her face away from him, burying at least that part of her deeper into the bedding. However, she did it in such a way that it pushed her bosom further towards Erik, twisting her body awkwardly, but with a kind of strain that emphasized her toned form, her flexibility making it clear that she was a woman in whom one could find infinite pleasure.

Buried in the sheets, some little part of Magda hoped he would take the undisclosed hint and suck her aching nipples, but she could not utter a word of such a depraved wish.