Prince-ish (part 3)
(Transphobia, noncon, wedding day, exhibitionism, free use, breeding)
She is awoken early the next morning, drug through the entire parade of beauticians and dressmakers and hairdressers.
Avalie's hand clenches into a fist as they pinch and prod and poke at her, each touch a fresh reminder of the night before. She can still feel Lord Vurren's fingers inside her, his cruel laughter ringing in her ears. She shudders, fighting back tears, as they drape her in layer after layer of silk and lace.
Her wedding dress is the most exquisite thing she's ever seen, a shimmering white gown that seems to glow in the morning light. But it exposes her in a way she doesn’t like… breasts overflowing and legs on full display.
It’s already high noon before she realizes it, and she’s taken to the courtyard outside, paraded past citizens and lower class people who stare at her body.
The sun beats down on her, making her already thin dress feel heavier, sticking to her skin. She clutches the bodice, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Every step she takes, she can feel the eyes on her, judging her.
Through the doors she is greeted by thousands of upper class, from neighboring countries and her own. They seem to smile wickedly at her as she walks down the aisle, lord Vurren right behind her.
She tries not to think about the way he touched her last night, the pain and pleasure intertwined. Instead, she focuses on the man at the end of the aisle, her soon-to-be husband… she can't help but feel that something is off. There's an air of possessiveness around him, like he already owns her.
The ceremony is a blur of ritual and tradition, and she realizes she has never seen a royal wedding before.
All of it seems normal enough, until the officiant tells Sir Gareth to “reveal your bride”. He steps forward, smiling, touching her dress in a way that felt uncomfortable. Finally, he pulls away, revealing all of her private places… nude before Sir Gareth and the entire crowd.
Her face burns with shame, but she forces herself to meet her soon-to-be husband's gaze. There is a darkness there, a hunger that she can't quite understand. As they exchange vows, she feels like she's being swallowed up by him, his words and intentions becoming muddled in her head.
“Now to consummate the marriage,” the officiant says, nodding to gareth. The princes looks confused and moves to back away, only for a few of the groomsmen to hold her down, shoving her to her knees.
“Princess Avalie, take Sir Gareth as your husband, to be your dominion, your dominant, your provider, and your superior.”
She whimpers, struggling against the men holding her, but it's no use. Gareth undoes his buttons on his trousers, revealing a hard erection.
He pushes her face down, forcing her mouth onto him. She gags, feeling his thick length stretch her throat. She can't breathe, but she can't stop herself from taking him deeper. She can feel him throbbing against her tongue, and it's almost as if he's mocking her.
The crowd begins to recite a vow, but she can’t make out the words. Gareth thrusts into her in time with the last words, precum forced to go down her throat.
She feels his hand on her head, guiding her movements as he uses her like a personal fleshlight. She tries to pull away, but he holds her firmly in place. Her vision begins to blur, and she feels like she's going to pass out.
The crowd continues to chant their vow, their words echoing in her ears, drowning out the sounds of her own desperate gasps for air. Gareth's thrusts become more forceful, and she can feel him begin to release inside her. Finally, he pulls out.
The men hold her still as she almost blacks out.
"Now, Princess Avalie," officiant says, his voice cold and unyielding. "You are bound to Sir Gareth. You will obey him in all things. You are his property, his possession. Do you understand these words?"
She looks up at him, tears streaming down her face. "Yes," she whispers.
“Sir Gareth, you will be given the responsibility of this entire kingdom, as well as over the Princess, her property, and her heirs. You are expected to impregnate her. Do you understand these words?”
Gareth looks at Avalie, his smile sly. He nods. "I understand."
The crowd roars its approval, and Avalie is led away by the ladies in waiting. She is shaking, both from the force of Gareth's thrusts and from the realization of what she has just agreed to.
She is led mostly naked to a giant bedchamber she recognizes as her own… when she was Prince. The ladies in waiting bathe her deeply, scrubbing every crevice.
She's given a change of clothes, a silk and lacy nightgown thats sheer and hugs her body, accentuating her curves. It feels like a taunt, a reminder of what she is now. She looks in the mirror and sees the face of a married woman, her features soft and feminine.
She hears the door open and knows it's Gareth. Her heart races, and she tries to calm herself, taking a deep breath. He steps into the room, his expression predatory. She feels a shiver of fear run down her spine. Behind him are almost three dozen courtiers, all excited to watch what happens next.
Gareth closes the distance between them, his hand grasping her hip roughly. He pulls her against him, her body pressed tightly to his. She can feel his erection pressed against her through their clothes. He kisses her roughly, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She tries to resist, but he's too strong.
“Lay on the bed,” he orders.
She does as she's told, lying down on the soft mattress. Gareth stands at the foot of the bed, watching her. The courtiers crowd around, eager for the show to begin. He undoes his trousers, revealing his erection once more. He climbs onto the bed, straddling her.
He pushes her legs apart roughly, and she feels his thick length press against her entrance. He looks down at her, his expression predatory. "You're mine now," he growls. "You'll take what I give you."
With a harsh thrust, he pushes inside her, filling her up completely. She gasps in pain, feeling stretched and violated. He begins to move, his hips slamming into hers in a brutal rhythm. The courtiers cheer him on, their voices echoing in the room.
She tries to focus on something other than the pain, but it's difficult when he's using her like this. His hands grip her shoulders, his nails digging into her flesh. He growls with each thrust, his face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and cruelty. She can feel him building up inside her, the pressure growing more intense with each passing moment.
Suddenly, he slaps her thigh, pulling out. “Roll on your stomach, whore.”
She does as she's told, feeling the cold sheets beneath her. He thrusts into her again, this time from behind. His hands move down her body, cupping her breasts. He squeezes roughly, pinching her nipples hard. The pain mingles with the pleasure, making her head spin.
The courtiers cheer them on, their voices echoing through the room. She tries to focus on something else, anything else, but she can't help but feel like an object, a thing being used for their amusement. Gareth's movements grow more brutal, his thrusts deeper. She gasps as he hits her spot, sending a wave of pleasure through her.
She realizes suddenly that some or the courtiers have taken to chanting… “breed her, breed her..”
The words jolt her back to reality, and she looks around wildly. Gareth is pounding into her, his breath hot on her neck. The courtiers are close, pressing in on them, their eyes hungry. She feels his hips begin to buck, and knows that he's about to come.
With a final thrust, he releases himself inside her, grunting in satisfaction. He collapses onto her, his weight pinning her to the bed. The courtiers cheer and applaud, their approval like a hot brand on her skin. She feels the warmth of his seed trickle down her thigh, and knows that she has just been bred. Her womb sucks wantingly at the seed.
Gareth rolls off her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looks down at her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's a good girl," he purrs. "You'll make a fine broodmare." The courtiers laugh and jeer, the sound deafening in the small room.
It’s only a few moments before the royal physician steps forward with a few guards, who roll her back onto her back and tie her legs up to elevate her body, making the cum seep deeper into her.
She looks at Gareth, feeling a mixture of anger, shame, and fear. He smirks at her, his expression almost sympathetic. "Don't worry, my dear. You'll get used to it." The courtiers chuckle darkly, some of them making lewd comments about what she'll be like once she's been bred properly.
She tries to turn her head away, but one of the guards roughly pushes it back towards Gareth. "Look at him," he says, his voice cruel. "He owns you now. You'll obey him, you'll serve him, and you'll give him children." The courtiers nod in agreement, their faces twisted in sick pleasure.
As the physician continues his examination, she can't help but feel like a piece of meat being inspected for freshness. She tries to find some sign of humanity in Gareth's eyes, but all she sees is cold calculation and ruthless dominance. He's nothing more than a predator, and she's his prey.
The courtiers, on the other hand, seem to delight in her humiliation. They laugh and jeer, making lewd comments and gestures. One of them reaches out to fondle her breast, and she recoils instinctively. But Gareth only laughs, and the courtier withdraws his hand with a satisfied smirk. “For luck!” He declares. “Every member of court, please fondle the princess!”
The command spreads through the room like wildfire, and within moments, she's being touched and prodded by hands she doesn't recognize. Some are rough, leaving bruises and scratches, while others are surprisingly gentle. But it all feels the same: dehumanizing and degrading. She tries to shut her eyes, to pretend that this isn't happening, but she can't escape the heat of their bodies pressed against hers, the smell of their sweat and wine-soaked clothes.
Gareth watches her with a satisfied smile, his hands clasped behind his back. "See, my dear? This is what it means to be owned. I can do anything I want to you.”
The courtiers laugh and jeer, their hands roaming freely over her body. One of them leans in close, his hot breath tickling her ear. "You'll get used to it, little one. You'll learn to love it." She tries to turn her head away, but another hand presses her back into place.
Soon, they’re jeering Gareth, now the prince, to fuck his seed deeper.
The princess looks up at him, hate burning in her eyes. He smiles down at her, his lips curling into a cruel sneer. “We must satisfy our people!”
One of the courtiers steps forward, holding a crude wooden dildo. The princess tries to struggle, but the guards hold her tight. Gareth laughs and nods, granting his permission. The courtier positions the dildo at her entrance, and with a rough thrust, pushes it inside her. The princess screams in pain and humiliation as the crude object tears at her sensitive flesh. The courtiers laugh and cheer.
“Is this what it feels like to be a man, princess?” Gareth mocks.
The wooden dildo is roughly thrust in and out of her, each movement causing her to cry out in pain and humiliation.
“Can she take another?” A courier asks, pulling out a smaller but still substantial second dildo.
Gareth laughs, enjoying the show. He nods, granting his permission. The courtier positions the second dildo beside the first, slowly pushing it inside her as she squirms and writhes, trying to escape the agony.
“She can take two, that whore!” One cries in laughter.
The courtiers surround her, jeering and cheering as the two dildos pump in and out of her, stretching her to the breaking point. She can feel herself beginning to tear, blood dripping down her thighs. She tries to scream, but the sound comes out as a hoarse, broken whisper.
One of the courtiers steps forward, grinning maliciously. "Let's see how she handles this," he says, his voice laced with cruel amusement. He produces a third dildo, even larger than the first two, and presses it against her aching entrance. The princess whimpers in pain as the head of the dildo pushes against her stretched flesh.
Gareth laughs, finding this all tremendously amusing. "Go on, then," he says with a wave of his hand. "She's been such a good little slut. Let's see how much more she can take." The courtier thrusts the third dildo inside her, and she cries out in agony, feeling as if she's being split in two.
The courtiers cheer and jeer, their eyes gleaming with sick pleasure. Some of them step forward, taking turns thrusting their hips against her, grinding their groins against her as they force their weight onto the dildos buried inside her. The princess feels herself being crushed, her body pushed to its limits.
This goes on for hours, until the newly crowned prince waves them away.
