Part of the War’s End universe. For more War’s End stories please look at:
The Princess and the Rebel (F/M)
The General and the Traitor (F/M, crowd/M)
The King of Traitors (F/M)
The Soldier and the Farmhand (F/M)
Punishment Fit For a King (*/M, F/M)
The Guard and the Lieutenant (M/M)
Happy reading!
“I’m telling you, I can’t take much more of this.” David, King of Cerces, nursed a pint of beer. The young blond was clean-shaven, but dressed in a thin green vest unbefitting his status. He’d abandoned his boots at the door to Samuel’s quarters and sat at Samuel’s desk with one foot tucked under him. The pose let his pants ride up, revealing an ornate shackle wrapped around his left ankle. At a glance, it might’ve passed as jewelry, but it was definitely a shackle. One with a fur lining so it wouldn’t chafe, but a shackle all the same.
“Then I don’t know why you keep letting her get away with murder like you do.” Samuel, David’s general, lay in bed, the maroon sheets upended. The man’s wavy black hair was slick and long enough to fall over his eyes. He’d shed his shirt some time before, revealing an olive-toned bare chest littered with scars left from his years as a gladiator. His current beer was more than half-empty, and the two empty mugs from earlier collected condensation behind it.
“Well, it’s Elana.” David sighed, staring at the scarlet walls of Samuel’s quarters. “I already lied to her tonight; we’re supposed to be figuring out how to defeat the last of the rebellion, not drinking ourselves into a stupor.” He stared at the mug in his hands.
“Figure out? I’ve got it figured out.” Samuel got to his feet and wobbled over to the maps of Astal spread over the desk in front of David. “We find them and defeat them.” He swatted the miniatures off the table and across the room so hard they smashed against the far wall.
David stared for a beat, then turned to Samuel slowly. “You’ve had a lot more than I have, Sam.” He set down his own beer. “Are you and that sergeant okay? What’s his name… Callaway?”
“Tom? We’re fine.” Samuel scoffed. “Just… he’s wrong about something again and won’t listen to me.”
“As much as I hate to say it, Sam, you’re not always right. As close as you can get to it, but not always.” David shrugged. “There’s a reason they call them your ‘better half.’”
“Yeah, Dave, keep talkin’. Your ‘better half’ chains you to her bed and tickles the shit out of you.” Samuel rolled his eyes.
“Like you don’t do exactly the same to poor Tom,” David snapped back. “And I let her do that.”
“Yeah, right. You’re completely pussy-whipped.” Samuel snorted. “‘King David of Cerces.’ Please. You’re not even king of your own quarters. I’m sorry… Elana’s quarters.”
David shook his head. “Just go to sleep, Sam. You’re drunk.”
“Maybe I am. But I’m not wrong. You wear that stupid thing around like a wedding ring.” Samuel pointed at David’s shackle. David jerked, yanking down his pants leg, but Samuel only scoffed again. “What, now you’re ashamed of it? For gods’ sake, when are you going to take back control of your life?”
“I don’t need to. I’m happy,” David argued.
“You’re a pet.”
“It’s better than dead.” David got to his feet. “And maybe I like being her pet!”
The declaration jarred Samuel, who chuckled. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Once you were a better fighter than me. But now you’re just soft.”
“I don’t need to fight anymore. We’ve won.”
“Alright then. Prove it.”
David arched an eyebrow. “Prove it? Prove it how? You want to see that goofy crown on my head? Damned thing doesn’t even fit right.”
Samuel waved a hand. “Sure.”
“Fine.” David jabbed a finger in Samuel’s face. “But if you do anything to Elana, with the gods as my witness I swear—”
“C’mon, Dave. You really think I’ll touch that princess of yours? I’d never make it out of this castle without a dozen arrows in my back for even thinking it.” Samuel rolled his eyes. “I just don’t think you have any of the power you think you do.”
“I have all the power I need.”
“You have all the power Elana lets you have,” Samuel retorted.
David reeled, but couldn’t find a response to that. Instead he turned to the door, abandoning his mug. “Fine. Let’s head to her quarters.”
“Your quarters, you mean.” Samuel laughed to himself. “Can’t even keep it straight in your own head.”
“You’re drunk,” David grumbled, but led the way out of Samuel’s quarters toward the ones he shared with Elana.
Aldien, the princess’s loyal guard and servant who had stood outside her quarters long before David ever met her, was roused from his doze. He frowned at David and Samuel, his nose twitching at the stench of alcohol rolling off them in waves. “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink anymore, Highness.”
“He’s of age. He can make his own choices.” Samuel interjected.
Helplessly, David jabbed a thumb Samuel’s way. “What he said.”
“Your funeral, kid.” Aldien shrugged and knocked on the door to the bedroom. A soft “come in” carried through the oak, and Aldien let the pair pass. David hesitated, then glanced at Aldien.
“Mind giving us some privacy?”
“That was the plan.” Aldien broke eye contact, instead fixing his gaze on the hall. “You and Sam were supposed to be planning troop movements, not digging into our beer reserves. I hear nothing.” The older guard exhaled. “You never learn.”
David grunted and let the door swing closed, clicking the lock shut.
Elana was at her dresser. Her raven tresses spilled over her thin white nightgown, forming a stark contrast. She was removing her makeup with a napkin, eyes closed. “Evening, David. I hope that’s not alcohol I smell.” Her eyelids cracked as Samuel came up behind her, then her eyes snapped open. “What? Sam—”
The general clapped his calloused hand over Elana’s mouth before she could finish her exclamation and alert Aldien. Instead he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and dragged her off the bench until her back was pressed against his chest. She kicked out uselessly, feet flailing a handswidth off the ground. As she squirmed, Samuel hissed at David. “We need to keep her quiet!”
Wide-eyed, David wordlessly pointed at a pile of rags on her dresser. Sam had snagged one and unceremoniously stuffed it into her mouth by the time David managed to speak.
“You said you wouldn’t touch her.”
“Right.” He pushed Elana toward David. “Because you’re touching her.”
“What?” David burst, but still caught both of Elana’s wrists in one hand on instinct. Samuel stepped forward and tied a second rag around Elana’s chin before she could spit out the first.
“Exactly.” Samuel smiled at David. “Now half of this room is set up like some sort of fluffy dungeon. Surely you have some idea what you need.”
“I… I do, I think.” David turned. Elana struggled against him, but like Samuel he held her with almost no physical effort. “C-Can you grab the box out from under the bed?”
“C’mon, kid, speak with some authority.” Samuel dragged the wooden trunk out from under the queen canopy bed and set it on the dresser’s bench. He opened it and whistled. “Some toys you’ve got in here.”
“I know.” David almost didn’t want to look into the trunk, just pointing. “That rope. There should be a few lengths of it.”
“There are.” Samuel grabbed a few bundles, his eyebrows shooting up. “Is this flaxen?”
“Silk, actually.” David’s words were hardly audible over Elana’s muffled protests. “Bring me a smaller one.”
Samuel obeyed, pressing one into David’s free hand. As the rope touched his palm, the young king’s hesitant nature evaporated. He turned quickly and tossed Elana onto the fur rug between her bed and closet like she had him so many times. Before she found her bearings, David grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and yanked it over her head. It left her naked save a pair of thin white panties and with her hands pinned up in the fabric.
David landed a knee on the small of her back and pinned the nightshirt in place with one hand, pausing to narrow his brown eyes at Samuel. “Don’t you dare make eyes at my girlfriend.”
Samuel raised his hands, leaning against the foot of the canopy bed. “Hey, you know I don’t swing that way. Besides, you’re the little brother I never had.”
“Yeah, but this was your idea,” David snapped, then exhaled. “And I can still do this. I can.”
“Go ahead. Convince yourself.”
David ignored Samuel, instead pulling the nightshirt off Elana despite a loud protesting grunt. The princess’ raven waves lay in disarray over her head, and as she struggled to clear her eyes David snagged her wrists again.
“Nope. None of that.” He pulled her hands to the small of her back, holding them there with one hand as he used his teeth to unfurl the length of silken rope. His tie was the same as the ones he’d used on captured soldiers during his time leading the rebellion. And there was no way Elana was squirming out of it.
David sat back, pulling Elana to a seat as he did. The princess looked nothing short of incensed, her ice-blue eyes staring daggers. He grimaced, then planted a kiss on her lips over the gag. “Sorry, Princess.”
Samuel scoffed. “What are you apologizing for?”
It jarred David, who set his jaw again. “Alright. Then pass me another. Medium.”
Samuel did so with little ceremony, and David snatched it out of the air without letting go of Elana’s shoulder. He undid the bundle, smiling. “Now this is something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“There y’go, kid.” Samuel picked at his fingernails.
David looped the rope around Elana’s chest, making her breasts stand out. As he tied off the knot, he bent over and suckled on her nipple, making her moan into her gag. He swiped his fingers over her groin, chuckling when he found them moist. “You like this.”
Elana shook her head, eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, we’ll see what you say at the end, huh?” David smiled sweet as sugar before turning to Samuel. “Sam, a little help?”
“Yessir,” Samuel said automatically, hopping off the bed.
“The closet. There are a few cuffs hooked up in the corners. Mind putting them in the center?”
“You two really are twisted,” Samuel mumbled under his breath. He did as asked though, gathering the silver padded cuffs.
“Thanks.” As David expected, Elana put up much more of a fight, and he had to resort to picking her up and hauling her to the closet’s doorframe. Samuel saved him a kick to a sensitive spot, grabbing her ankles and yanking them apart. David ran the upper cuffs through the chest harness. Elana stood panting, her legs spread wide and hands tied behind her back. Her struggling only made her boobs jiggle, and as her face turned pink, she stopped fighting, instead glaring at both men.
Samuel glanced at David. “Like that? Don’t you want her arms up?”
“You can’t stay in that pose with your arms up for longer than a few minutes,” David replied with the sageness of experience.
“Ah.” Samuel smirked. “So you’re keeping her there for longer than a few minutes.”
David’s nod sent Elana into a fresh fit of struggling and muffled complaints. The two former gladiators exchanged glances, then walked up and tightened the bonds until Elana could hardly sway.
“Better,” David declared, then collected a towel from the crate of supplies and tossed it onto the floor between Elana’s legs. Right on time too, as a dribble of wetness finally leaked through her soaked panties.
Samuel raised his eyebrows. “I think you’re right. She does like this.”
“Tell you what, Princess: my turn.” David walked over to the stocks and collected a bowl full of paintbrushes. Elana screamed into her gag, but David ignored her, instead turning to Samuel.
“Think you can get behind her? In the closet?”
“Sure.” The general ducked under one of the ropes. His back brushed up against the clothes in the closet, but he had plenty of room.
“Alright. Here’s some rose oil for your nails.” David wagged a finger. “Tickle. But if you touch her—”
“Kid, I get it.” Samuel rolled his eyes.
Elana screamed into the gag as David passed the bottle by her head, then screamed even louder as David set a blindfold over her eyes. She stood deathly still as a cold line of metal ripped first one side of her panties, then the other. But David could handle a knife.
And a wet paintbrush, rubbing up against her drooling pussy. He parted her lips with one hand, each stroke of the feather or brush making her jump in the right bondage.
Meanwhile Samuel had warmed up the rose oil in his fingers, rubbing it up and down her sides and stomach. As she keened into her gag, Samuel leaned in close enough for her to smell the spirits on his breath. “He is still my king, Your Highness.”
David pinched her nipple, and at once Samuel started dancing his nails up and down her sides, playing with her entire torso except her chest. Despite her frantic squirming, David’s paintbrush found her clit with absolute precision. But it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t get over.
She hopped helplessly, her gasps and moans mixing and turning sporadic. Samuel was taking pride in finding the princess’s weak spots, digging in. David bounced between suckling her nipples and toying with her clit, making use of his mouth and the feathers, brushes, and other torture implements she’d used on him not hours earlier.
It was cathartic. He’d never realized how much he’d missed that power. But Elana’s pleasure and torment was in his hands now. She couldn’t cum. Just moan and laugh. Tears leaked out of her eyes, mixing with the sweat coating her frame from the helpless flailing. Samuel almost didn’t need the oil anymore; his fingers slipped under her arms easily and found sensitive spots she could no longer protect. Elana slumped in her bonds, no longer fighting, just reacting.
Then Samuel stumbled. Not a lot, but it caught David’s attention despite him having his tongue deep inside the Princess. The general had leaned down and lost his balance while aiming for Elana’s hipbone.
Samuel was a champion gladiator, with a record smashing win streak. He didn’t stumble.
How drunk was he?
And what had he pressured David into?
David looked up into Elana’s blue eyes. They’d sag shut, only to shoot wide when he or Samuel hit a spot that was somehow still sensitive. They’d been at it for an hour. At least. And she broke forty minutes prior.
David leaned up and sucked Elana’s clit under his tongue, earning a hoarse whine from the princess. This time, though, he didn’t stop. After a moment, she groaned, then something splashed out of her, down David’s vest, and onto the towel. She groaned one more time, then passed out completely.
“Gods,” Samuel said, leaning back. “Well, there goes our fun.”
“Help me get her down,” David said.
“Why? She’ll wake up in a few minutes, then we—”
“Sam, help me get her down,” David repeated in a voice he reserved for misbehaving soldiers.
Samuel blinked, then undid the chest harness in one move. David caught Elana as she dropped forward, and he hauled her into his arms as Samuel freed her ankles.
“We went too far,” David said, using the towel to try to clean her off. He set her on the bed, undoing the gag.
“We did not,” Samuel retorted with an eye roll.
“We did!” David burst. He tried to clean off his vest, but gave up and threw it on top of the towel. “We could’ve killed her!”
“You’re exaggerating, Dave.”
“I am not,” David raged. Samuel was taller than him, but it didn’t seem so from the way he quailed. “You got into a fight with your partner. That doesn’t mean you get to take out your relationship issues on me and Elana.”
“It’s not—”
“Get out, Sam!” He pointed. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.” Samuel scurried away like a dog with its tail between its legs, ducking out the door in time to see David climb into bed beside Elana and wrap an arm around her. It made Samuel grit his teeth, but he just nodded brusquely at Aldien and headed down the corridor toward his own quarters. He opened the door to find his room abandoned just as he and David had left it. With a curse, he walked to his nightstand, downed the last of his beer in a single swig, and threw himself into bed, the smell of rose oil clinging to him and weaving into his dreams.
When he came to, his heartbeat sounded like a drum in his head and it somehow still smelled of rose oil. Samuel made to rub his forehead, but his arms were stuck.
Bound.
His eyes snapped wide, trying to make sense of the situation. He was in the castle dungeon— brilliant, this again— but this time, David and Elana stood outside the cell bars.
“Dave?” Samuel squinted at him. “Thank gods. They’ve arrested me again. Can someone—”
“No, they’ve arrested you with cause,” Elana replied sternly. “You’ve committed treason.”
“Treason?” Samuel blurted. “How?”
“Last night.” The princess narrowed her eyes. “That’s treason. And it’s punishable by death.”
“No!” Samuel shook his head. “It wasn’t—”
“Someone did let it slip that that little episode was all your idea.” Elana tugged the front of David’s flannel shirt and he nodded.
Samuel’s heart dropped. “You—”
“But it’s a good thing that in special circumstances, cases of treason can be punished by tickling instead of execution,” David recited robotically. “And that you sleep like a log when drunk.”
“You bastard!” Samuel burst. His arms were spread wide and cuffed at the wrists and biceps. He was sitting nude in a chair, a thin belt running just over his waist. His legs were propped up and locked in stocks, toes tied back to the leather. The very same chair Samuel had found David in when Cerces overtook Astal. “How could you do this?”
“I wouldn’t blame him. This rebel’s got some punishment of his own lined up.” Elana tugged on the front of David’s shirt again and he winced. “As for you, General, well, your sentence ends when your warden decides you’ve had enough.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“It means you have to agree that sometimes, I might be right.” Sergeant Thomas Calawig stepped out from behind Samuel, a near-imperceptible smile on his face.
“What? No!”
Elana snapped her fingers and David turned, bringing a crate to Tom identical to the one he and Elana had under their bed. “Feel free to use any of these materials, Sergeant Calawig. He’s done when you say he’s done.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Tom bowed deeply, and they both watched Elana grab David by the shirt collar and almost drag him up the dungeon stairs.
The blonde sergeant dug through the box and uncovered a brush, waggling it in Samuel’s direction. “So many fun things in here… oh, is this sayoro root?”
“No. Tom, don’t you dare get that near me. Tom. Tom, no! NO!”
The Princess and the Rebel (F/M)
The General and the Traitor (F/M, crowd/M)
The King of Traitors (F/M)
The Soldier and the Farmhand (F/M)
Punishment Fit For a King (*/M, F/M)
The Guard and the Lieutenant (M/M)
Happy reading!
“I’m telling you, I can’t take much more of this.” David, King of Cerces, nursed a pint of beer. The young blond was clean-shaven, but dressed in a thin green vest unbefitting his status. He’d abandoned his boots at the door to Samuel’s quarters and sat at Samuel’s desk with one foot tucked under him. The pose let his pants ride up, revealing an ornate shackle wrapped around his left ankle. At a glance, it might’ve passed as jewelry, but it was definitely a shackle. One with a fur lining so it wouldn’t chafe, but a shackle all the same.
“Then I don’t know why you keep letting her get away with murder like you do.” Samuel, David’s general, lay in bed, the maroon sheets upended. The man’s wavy black hair was slick and long enough to fall over his eyes. He’d shed his shirt some time before, revealing an olive-toned bare chest littered with scars left from his years as a gladiator. His current beer was more than half-empty, and the two empty mugs from earlier collected condensation behind it.
“Well, it’s Elana.” David sighed, staring at the scarlet walls of Samuel’s quarters. “I already lied to her tonight; we’re supposed to be figuring out how to defeat the last of the rebellion, not drinking ourselves into a stupor.” He stared at the mug in his hands.
“Figure out? I’ve got it figured out.” Samuel got to his feet and wobbled over to the maps of Astal spread over the desk in front of David. “We find them and defeat them.” He swatted the miniatures off the table and across the room so hard they smashed against the far wall.
David stared for a beat, then turned to Samuel slowly. “You’ve had a lot more than I have, Sam.” He set down his own beer. “Are you and that sergeant okay? What’s his name… Callaway?”
“Tom? We’re fine.” Samuel scoffed. “Just… he’s wrong about something again and won’t listen to me.”
“As much as I hate to say it, Sam, you’re not always right. As close as you can get to it, but not always.” David shrugged. “There’s a reason they call them your ‘better half.’”
“Yeah, Dave, keep talkin’. Your ‘better half’ chains you to her bed and tickles the shit out of you.” Samuel rolled his eyes.
“Like you don’t do exactly the same to poor Tom,” David snapped back. “And I let her do that.”
“Yeah, right. You’re completely pussy-whipped.” Samuel snorted. “‘King David of Cerces.’ Please. You’re not even king of your own quarters. I’m sorry… Elana’s quarters.”
David shook his head. “Just go to sleep, Sam. You’re drunk.”
“Maybe I am. But I’m not wrong. You wear that stupid thing around like a wedding ring.” Samuel pointed at David’s shackle. David jerked, yanking down his pants leg, but Samuel only scoffed again. “What, now you’re ashamed of it? For gods’ sake, when are you going to take back control of your life?”
“I don’t need to. I’m happy,” David argued.
“You’re a pet.”
“It’s better than dead.” David got to his feet. “And maybe I like being her pet!”
The declaration jarred Samuel, who chuckled. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Once you were a better fighter than me. But now you’re just soft.”
“I don’t need to fight anymore. We’ve won.”
“Alright then. Prove it.”
David arched an eyebrow. “Prove it? Prove it how? You want to see that goofy crown on my head? Damned thing doesn’t even fit right.”
Samuel waved a hand. “Sure.”
“Fine.” David jabbed a finger in Samuel’s face. “But if you do anything to Elana, with the gods as my witness I swear—”
“C’mon, Dave. You really think I’ll touch that princess of yours? I’d never make it out of this castle without a dozen arrows in my back for even thinking it.” Samuel rolled his eyes. “I just don’t think you have any of the power you think you do.”
“I have all the power I need.”
“You have all the power Elana lets you have,” Samuel retorted.
David reeled, but couldn’t find a response to that. Instead he turned to the door, abandoning his mug. “Fine. Let’s head to her quarters.”
“Your quarters, you mean.” Samuel laughed to himself. “Can’t even keep it straight in your own head.”
“You’re drunk,” David grumbled, but led the way out of Samuel’s quarters toward the ones he shared with Elana.
Aldien, the princess’s loyal guard and servant who had stood outside her quarters long before David ever met her, was roused from his doze. He frowned at David and Samuel, his nose twitching at the stench of alcohol rolling off them in waves. “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink anymore, Highness.”
“He’s of age. He can make his own choices.” Samuel interjected.
Helplessly, David jabbed a thumb Samuel’s way. “What he said.”
“Your funeral, kid.” Aldien shrugged and knocked on the door to the bedroom. A soft “come in” carried through the oak, and Aldien let the pair pass. David hesitated, then glanced at Aldien.
“Mind giving us some privacy?”
“That was the plan.” Aldien broke eye contact, instead fixing his gaze on the hall. “You and Sam were supposed to be planning troop movements, not digging into our beer reserves. I hear nothing.” The older guard exhaled. “You never learn.”
David grunted and let the door swing closed, clicking the lock shut.
Elana was at her dresser. Her raven tresses spilled over her thin white nightgown, forming a stark contrast. She was removing her makeup with a napkin, eyes closed. “Evening, David. I hope that’s not alcohol I smell.” Her eyelids cracked as Samuel came up behind her, then her eyes snapped open. “What? Sam—”
The general clapped his calloused hand over Elana’s mouth before she could finish her exclamation and alert Aldien. Instead he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and dragged her off the bench until her back was pressed against his chest. She kicked out uselessly, feet flailing a handswidth off the ground. As she squirmed, Samuel hissed at David. “We need to keep her quiet!”
Wide-eyed, David wordlessly pointed at a pile of rags on her dresser. Sam had snagged one and unceremoniously stuffed it into her mouth by the time David managed to speak.
“You said you wouldn’t touch her.”
“Right.” He pushed Elana toward David. “Because you’re touching her.”
“What?” David burst, but still caught both of Elana’s wrists in one hand on instinct. Samuel stepped forward and tied a second rag around Elana’s chin before she could spit out the first.
“Exactly.” Samuel smiled at David. “Now half of this room is set up like some sort of fluffy dungeon. Surely you have some idea what you need.”
“I… I do, I think.” David turned. Elana struggled against him, but like Samuel he held her with almost no physical effort. “C-Can you grab the box out from under the bed?”
“C’mon, kid, speak with some authority.” Samuel dragged the wooden trunk out from under the queen canopy bed and set it on the dresser’s bench. He opened it and whistled. “Some toys you’ve got in here.”
“I know.” David almost didn’t want to look into the trunk, just pointing. “That rope. There should be a few lengths of it.”
“There are.” Samuel grabbed a few bundles, his eyebrows shooting up. “Is this flaxen?”
“Silk, actually.” David’s words were hardly audible over Elana’s muffled protests. “Bring me a smaller one.”
Samuel obeyed, pressing one into David’s free hand. As the rope touched his palm, the young king’s hesitant nature evaporated. He turned quickly and tossed Elana onto the fur rug between her bed and closet like she had him so many times. Before she found her bearings, David grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and yanked it over her head. It left her naked save a pair of thin white panties and with her hands pinned up in the fabric.
David landed a knee on the small of her back and pinned the nightshirt in place with one hand, pausing to narrow his brown eyes at Samuel. “Don’t you dare make eyes at my girlfriend.”
Samuel raised his hands, leaning against the foot of the canopy bed. “Hey, you know I don’t swing that way. Besides, you’re the little brother I never had.”
“Yeah, but this was your idea,” David snapped, then exhaled. “And I can still do this. I can.”
“Go ahead. Convince yourself.”
David ignored Samuel, instead pulling the nightshirt off Elana despite a loud protesting grunt. The princess’ raven waves lay in disarray over her head, and as she struggled to clear her eyes David snagged her wrists again.
“Nope. None of that.” He pulled her hands to the small of her back, holding them there with one hand as he used his teeth to unfurl the length of silken rope. His tie was the same as the ones he’d used on captured soldiers during his time leading the rebellion. And there was no way Elana was squirming out of it.
David sat back, pulling Elana to a seat as he did. The princess looked nothing short of incensed, her ice-blue eyes staring daggers. He grimaced, then planted a kiss on her lips over the gag. “Sorry, Princess.”
Samuel scoffed. “What are you apologizing for?”
It jarred David, who set his jaw again. “Alright. Then pass me another. Medium.”
Samuel did so with little ceremony, and David snatched it out of the air without letting go of Elana’s shoulder. He undid the bundle, smiling. “Now this is something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“There y’go, kid.” Samuel picked at his fingernails.
David looped the rope around Elana’s chest, making her breasts stand out. As he tied off the knot, he bent over and suckled on her nipple, making her moan into her gag. He swiped his fingers over her groin, chuckling when he found them moist. “You like this.”
Elana shook her head, eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, we’ll see what you say at the end, huh?” David smiled sweet as sugar before turning to Samuel. “Sam, a little help?”
“Yessir,” Samuel said automatically, hopping off the bed.
“The closet. There are a few cuffs hooked up in the corners. Mind putting them in the center?”
“You two really are twisted,” Samuel mumbled under his breath. He did as asked though, gathering the silver padded cuffs.
“Thanks.” As David expected, Elana put up much more of a fight, and he had to resort to picking her up and hauling her to the closet’s doorframe. Samuel saved him a kick to a sensitive spot, grabbing her ankles and yanking them apart. David ran the upper cuffs through the chest harness. Elana stood panting, her legs spread wide and hands tied behind her back. Her struggling only made her boobs jiggle, and as her face turned pink, she stopped fighting, instead glaring at both men.
Samuel glanced at David. “Like that? Don’t you want her arms up?”
“You can’t stay in that pose with your arms up for longer than a few minutes,” David replied with the sageness of experience.
“Ah.” Samuel smirked. “So you’re keeping her there for longer than a few minutes.”
David’s nod sent Elana into a fresh fit of struggling and muffled complaints. The two former gladiators exchanged glances, then walked up and tightened the bonds until Elana could hardly sway.
“Better,” David declared, then collected a towel from the crate of supplies and tossed it onto the floor between Elana’s legs. Right on time too, as a dribble of wetness finally leaked through her soaked panties.
Samuel raised his eyebrows. “I think you’re right. She does like this.”
“Tell you what, Princess: my turn.” David walked over to the stocks and collected a bowl full of paintbrushes. Elana screamed into her gag, but David ignored her, instead turning to Samuel.
“Think you can get behind her? In the closet?”
“Sure.” The general ducked under one of the ropes. His back brushed up against the clothes in the closet, but he had plenty of room.
“Alright. Here’s some rose oil for your nails.” David wagged a finger. “Tickle. But if you touch her—”
“Kid, I get it.” Samuel rolled his eyes.
Elana screamed into the gag as David passed the bottle by her head, then screamed even louder as David set a blindfold over her eyes. She stood deathly still as a cold line of metal ripped first one side of her panties, then the other. But David could handle a knife.
And a wet paintbrush, rubbing up against her drooling pussy. He parted her lips with one hand, each stroke of the feather or brush making her jump in the right bondage.
Meanwhile Samuel had warmed up the rose oil in his fingers, rubbing it up and down her sides and stomach. As she keened into her gag, Samuel leaned in close enough for her to smell the spirits on his breath. “He is still my king, Your Highness.”
David pinched her nipple, and at once Samuel started dancing his nails up and down her sides, playing with her entire torso except her chest. Despite her frantic squirming, David’s paintbrush found her clit with absolute precision. But it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t get over.
She hopped helplessly, her gasps and moans mixing and turning sporadic. Samuel was taking pride in finding the princess’s weak spots, digging in. David bounced between suckling her nipples and toying with her clit, making use of his mouth and the feathers, brushes, and other torture implements she’d used on him not hours earlier.
It was cathartic. He’d never realized how much he’d missed that power. But Elana’s pleasure and torment was in his hands now. She couldn’t cum. Just moan and laugh. Tears leaked out of her eyes, mixing with the sweat coating her frame from the helpless flailing. Samuel almost didn’t need the oil anymore; his fingers slipped under her arms easily and found sensitive spots she could no longer protect. Elana slumped in her bonds, no longer fighting, just reacting.
Then Samuel stumbled. Not a lot, but it caught David’s attention despite him having his tongue deep inside the Princess. The general had leaned down and lost his balance while aiming for Elana’s hipbone.
Samuel was a champion gladiator, with a record smashing win streak. He didn’t stumble.
How drunk was he?
And what had he pressured David into?
David looked up into Elana’s blue eyes. They’d sag shut, only to shoot wide when he or Samuel hit a spot that was somehow still sensitive. They’d been at it for an hour. At least. And she broke forty minutes prior.
David leaned up and sucked Elana’s clit under his tongue, earning a hoarse whine from the princess. This time, though, he didn’t stop. After a moment, she groaned, then something splashed out of her, down David’s vest, and onto the towel. She groaned one more time, then passed out completely.
“Gods,” Samuel said, leaning back. “Well, there goes our fun.”
“Help me get her down,” David said.
“Why? She’ll wake up in a few minutes, then we—”
“Sam, help me get her down,” David repeated in a voice he reserved for misbehaving soldiers.
Samuel blinked, then undid the chest harness in one move. David caught Elana as she dropped forward, and he hauled her into his arms as Samuel freed her ankles.
“We went too far,” David said, using the towel to try to clean her off. He set her on the bed, undoing the gag.
“We did not,” Samuel retorted with an eye roll.
“We did!” David burst. He tried to clean off his vest, but gave up and threw it on top of the towel. “We could’ve killed her!”
“You’re exaggerating, Dave.”
“I am not,” David raged. Samuel was taller than him, but it didn’t seem so from the way he quailed. “You got into a fight with your partner. That doesn’t mean you get to take out your relationship issues on me and Elana.”
“It’s not—”
“Get out, Sam!” He pointed. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.” Samuel scurried away like a dog with its tail between its legs, ducking out the door in time to see David climb into bed beside Elana and wrap an arm around her. It made Samuel grit his teeth, but he just nodded brusquely at Aldien and headed down the corridor toward his own quarters. He opened the door to find his room abandoned just as he and David had left it. With a curse, he walked to his nightstand, downed the last of his beer in a single swig, and threw himself into bed, the smell of rose oil clinging to him and weaving into his dreams.
***
When he came to, his heartbeat sounded like a drum in his head and it somehow still smelled of rose oil. Samuel made to rub his forehead, but his arms were stuck.
Bound.
His eyes snapped wide, trying to make sense of the situation. He was in the castle dungeon— brilliant, this again— but this time, David and Elana stood outside the cell bars.
“Dave?” Samuel squinted at him. “Thank gods. They’ve arrested me again. Can someone—”
“No, they’ve arrested you with cause,” Elana replied sternly. “You’ve committed treason.”
“Treason?” Samuel blurted. “How?”
“Last night.” The princess narrowed her eyes. “That’s treason. And it’s punishable by death.”
“No!” Samuel shook his head. “It wasn’t—”
“Someone did let it slip that that little episode was all your idea.” Elana tugged the front of David’s flannel shirt and he nodded.
Samuel’s heart dropped. “You—”
“But it’s a good thing that in special circumstances, cases of treason can be punished by tickling instead of execution,” David recited robotically. “And that you sleep like a log when drunk.”
“You bastard!” Samuel burst. His arms were spread wide and cuffed at the wrists and biceps. He was sitting nude in a chair, a thin belt running just over his waist. His legs were propped up and locked in stocks, toes tied back to the leather. The very same chair Samuel had found David in when Cerces overtook Astal. “How could you do this?”
“I wouldn’t blame him. This rebel’s got some punishment of his own lined up.” Elana tugged on the front of David’s shirt again and he winced. “As for you, General, well, your sentence ends when your warden decides you’ve had enough.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“It means you have to agree that sometimes, I might be right.” Sergeant Thomas Calawig stepped out from behind Samuel, a near-imperceptible smile on his face.
“What? No!”
Elana snapped her fingers and David turned, bringing a crate to Tom identical to the one he and Elana had under their bed. “Feel free to use any of these materials, Sergeant Calawig. He’s done when you say he’s done.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Tom bowed deeply, and they both watched Elana grab David by the shirt collar and almost drag him up the dungeon stairs.
The blonde sergeant dug through the box and uncovered a brush, waggling it in Samuel’s direction. “So many fun things in here… oh, is this sayoro root?”
“No. Tom, don’t you dare get that near me. Tom. Tom, no! NO!”
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