The Princess Amalia – Chapter 1 by Tw11ster
This is a cautionary tale to read to a bratty bitch while she is bound and gagged. , It was times of kings, castles, and knights.
Dragons soaring the sky,
wizards playing with magic,
and of course,
Princesses.
Amalia was such a girl of 22, her abrasive personality was known far and wide. She was short with people, mean to her servants, and overall unfit the title of royalty in the Kingdom of Hazelmire.
She would boss and bully and got away with it, not just because of her title; but also, her remarkable beauty. Women wanted to dress and look like her. Her golden hair always done, smelling like flowers. Clothing and shoes from other lands. Obviously, she was a hit with the men as well. She could mold them with a look and a smile, her corset and body movements said more than her mouth ever did. She was a virgin, but she loved to tease.
Wars had been raging for quite some time, Kingdoms becoming Countries. One Country, Zothurith, was on a rampage to add allies, refusal meaning death. No one outside of the allies knew what the terms were, but any Kingdom that complied seemed to be free and their people seemed happy. The armies of the allies merged and swarmed around the mutual lands, constantly moving from Kingdom to Kingdom – protecting.
Hazelmire was not an ally of Zothurith, they were enemies.
Amalia, unlike her sisters didn’t bother with politics, or try to learn about how to rule a Kingdom. She mostly focused on a mirror. Her servants were her tools. She needed something; one would get it. She needed help dressing, they would dress her – bathe her, make her pretty, massage her… From time to time she would use them as furniture, berate, and belittle them, it was undignified and it was more than her three handmaids, Addison, Charlotte, and Violet could bear.
Hazelmire was a peaceful land. The people had plenty, and they loved the King, Queen, and the other Princesses. Crime was all but unheard of.
Amalia who had never had a finger laid on her in her whole life, drifted off to sleep on a fluffy bed in a large room all to her own, without a care or worry in her mind.
It was terrifying for her when she woke up to strangers binding and carrying her out, through the castle.
Her guards, many of whom she had known her whole life, stood at attention, allowing her kidnapping to take place.
“Why aren’t you moving?” Amalia ordered unsuccessfully through a gag. A muffled screech filling the air. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked around. There were only three aggressors, one carrying her and two escorting. Her handmaids were following without restraints. The guards, who outnumbered the invaders 5 to 1 stood like statues, their weapons to their sides.
Amalia screamed as hard as she could, writhing around on the shoulder of a man nearly twice her size. Her wrists, ankles, and thighs were bound, the man’s arm wrapped around her tiny waist. Her view of the halls, then the doorway bobbing as the man walked away.
She ended up in a carriage uncomfortable and bouncing on the floor, her handmaids sitting comfortably in front of her.
‘What is happening?’ and ‘Where are they taking me?’ were piercing questions in her mind.
The carriage stopped and Amalia found herself being carried into a different castle. She heard music and the chatter of crowds. The smell of a feast growing closer. She was plopped ungracefully onto a table, in front of a man who seemed to be sitting at the head of the table. This man had a beard and scars on his face, he was muscular and gave Amalia a look that made her feel like a literal piece of meat. Amalia had heard of this man, Degladoth leader of Zothurith.
“There, there” He reassured her in a rugged voice “I will be with you shortly.” As he said the words Amalia felt one of the man’s rough and callused hands, which was covered in greases from roasted chicken, lightly caressing her otherwise flawless face.
This was the most disgusting and horrifying experience that Amalia had ever endured.
Degladoth finished his meal, Amalia bound and laying on the table in front of him. Amalia’s handmaids and the men who fetched them were present at the table as well. When Degladoth was finished, he clapped his hands and told the other men to escort his guests to the parlor.
Amalia was carried again into a different room; her leg bindings were removed and she was placed on the ground on her knees. She tried to stand but was pushed down by a hand on her shoulder. Degladoth was sitting in front of her, her handmaids kneeling in a line to the side, the men who had taken her standing behind her now.
Her gag was removed and she began screaming. “Do you know what you have done?!?!? My father…” She went on about the imminent payback that would be coming as a result of her capture, about the thousands of men who would fight to save her. She was talking for quite some time, everyone else in the room not moving or reacting.
“Are you finished?” Degladoth asked in a low growl.
Degladoth: “Good. Hold that thought.”
Degladoth waved his hand and the gag was replaced. Amalia began speaking in protest but was cut off by the cloth in her mouth. She was lifted to her feet, realizing now that she was in her night gown, and taken to another spot to kneel once again.
One of the men opened the door and a woman walked in being escorted by two men. She was gorgeous, but looked tired and weary. Amalia became enraged as she realized that she knew this woman. It was Kara, a warrior she had befriended while accompanying her father on his travels. Kara was brave and friendly, someone Amalia admired. They had only met a few times years ago; this was a tragic way to see her again.
Kara walked up to Degladoth and knelt at his feet. Amalia couldn’t believe what she was looking at. Kara was pleading, saying things like she would be his humble servant, she would lay in his bed and do for him all the things that he wished. She was crying and groveling, holding his ankle, placing her head on his foot and purposefully waving her ass in the air.
Kara: “I will suck, I will beg for it just as I’m begging now. I will…”
Kara began crawling up Degladoth’s leg, her eyes in tears. Degladoth grabbed Kara by her beautiful face, staring into her eyes deeply and said “No.”
“Away with her” Degladoth said with another waive of the hand. The two men who escorted Kara now dragging her away.
Kara was clearly determined and broke free of their grips crawling back “NO! PLEASE! I will be your pet! You can walk me as I’ve seen you do with the others. I will sit at your feet and do ANYTHING! Take my mouth, take my body!!! Please!”
Degladoth made a motion to the men and they stopped trying to restrain her. He allowed Kara to crawl to him, her head now in his thigh weeping heavily.
Degladoth: “Why did you not say this before?”
Kara, crying: “I was too proud, I’m sorry. I know now my place at your feet, I am only for your pleasure. I am yours.”
Degladoth held Kara’s chin up and looked into her eyes again when he said “Your beauty and your body are desirable.”