I'll look after you.

I know exactly what you want. I'm meek as a lamb while you're pulling me in, the obedient servant - Yes, Your Grace - and then I'm on you like a wolf, shoving you against the rough bark of the trunk, crushing my mouth down onto yours. Slipping my hand down the waist of your velvet hose as I hold you pinned with my forearm. Nibbling your throat hard enough to hurt, but careful and precise so as to leave no lasting marks, while I wrap my fingers around your hardening length and stroke slowly.

Here, for a few stolen minutes, you will let go all that power and responsibility. You will be helpless, writhing and whimpering in my grip, trying to push me away just so you can feel the frisson that runs through you when you find you can't. You are strong, my prince; but I am stronger and larger, and for the next few minutes this royal body belongs to me. I want to feel the moment your arms go limp, see the instant in which your eyes darken from that adoring shine into glassy arousal. I want to hear you moan low in your throat as you begin slowly bucking into my hand, wanton and seeking, because the soft gentle strokes I'm giving you are making your thoughts all fuzzy and they're not enough.

Such a needy prince now. Shhh, not so loud. If you're quiet I'll give you a little more. Can you be quiet for me? That's it. There you go. Oh, there you go. That feels nice, doesn't it? Yes, that's right, go on and take it. Take what's yours. It's all for you, my prince, my love; this secret pleasure that only I can give you, hidden away in a place where no one sees.

They are paradoxically dripping with need and frozen for fear of offending their charge. You've seen them strike terror in hearts of men and monsters twice your size. And yet, before you, they shake like a dog with the sheer effort of their restraint.