Prince Charming by Ajars
Indulge in 'Prince Charming' by Ajars, an enticing erotic sex story that explores passion, desire, and fantasy. Join our captivating protagonist on a thrilling journey filled with steamy encounters and lush romance. Perfect for lovers of adventurous tales and sensual escapades, this story promises to ignite your imagination and leave you yearning for more. Read now for an unforgettable experience!
A fantasy with a hint of truth, if this aint your thing then look at the tags before reading. , A fantasy with a hint of truth, if this aint your thing then look at the tags before reading. That’s why they’re there.
When I was young, I’m pretty sure I was in love with my cousin. We grew up on the same street and were inseparable. We’d always play Princess and Prince and I’d have to save her from one of the other neighbor kids who were the “bad guys”. But no matter how much they begged, the game was always set. I was her Prince.
She truly was a childhood depiction of a princess too. Willowy body, long tousled chestnut hair that had shocks of blonde from the sun exclusively in the summer time. Her lips were full and wide, curving at the edges to give her face a kind look even when she was upset. Eyes a vibrant dark jade that I had to pull myself away from before I looked too long.
At first she was all frills. A princess in her truest form. Puffy dresses and crowns set plastic jewels, but as we grew older her dresses grew more tight, her breasts a bit more budding. Soon the neighbor boys weren’t just pretending to capture her, it became a game of gray areas and fuzzy boundaries. The boys would tie her up, we’d sword fight, and she’d be freed. But eventually the sword fights got harder, and the knots in her bindings grew harder to untie.
By ten we were all too old for the game but nobody had told us to stop playing it, so none of us did. Our Princess however was not always interested in playing, but what Princess is suppose to want to be captured? It was her unwillingness that we relied on to suspend our disbelief, to make the game fun. We’d be drawing with chalk in her drive way, and they’d ride up on their bikes.
“Wanna play the game?” They’d ask. “Not today.” She’d say, kind but a bit pleading. I drew my wooden sword and we’d mock battle, me pretending to lose, and they’d push her down, or take her chalk then pull her away while she yelled,
“stoppppp, I don’t want to play this right now!”
a long time ago they learned it was best to have a bandana on hand or some duck tape. The last thing we needed was for her to get parents involved that didn’t understand the game. I’d give them a head start, pretending to summon a dragon or to heal myself before the big battle and then I’d have to track them through the woods behind our houses to find where they hid her.
This time I was impressed. they’re bikes were parked at the edge of the forest but their tracks went in all directions. It took me a lot longer than normal to find them, and it was only do to her yell that I did at all. They had a make-shift fort from nailed together dry wood and sheet metal. She was gagged this time with what looked like both duck tape and the bandana. Her hair flowed down past her waist but it looked a bit mussed from the struggle and her dress was slightly torn. She was on the ground on her knees with her arms tied to her sides in a coil of rope and her eyes looked puffy from tears.
“Did you hurt her?” I asked, suddenly upset.
The oldest boy was in front, sword in hand.
“She bit me. So I pushed her. She’s fine. Since when do Princesses bite?”
I pulled out my sword. Ready to fight and win.
“Let’s change the rules” the boy said. “Just this once.”
“The game’s rules don’t change. that’s one of the rules.” I say, impatient for battle.
“Unless we all agree. If you win, like normal. You take her. If you lose, she stays for a little bit. You can stay too, but you have to pretend the whole time to be a bad guy. No cheating.” I had never lost.
“Sure, whatever. Let’s fight.”
He came at me hard.
The first hit against my sword made my hand numb and when he tripped me I knew it was over.
After a few more hits with the sword I forfeited.
“I cave! I cave!”
The older boy sneered.
“Good. welcome to the bad guys’ side.
” ***
One of the boys pushed her and she fell over. a muffled yell in the gag. I started forward and a hand pushed against my chest.
“You’re a bad guy remember. Just pretend. This is what bad guys do. They have to do what they want and Princesses KNOW that. She’s just doing what she’s suppose to do. Otherwise she wouldn’t be a very good Princess. Don’t you think she’s a good one?”
She was the BEST Princess. She gave squeals and muffled cries at all the right moments. One boy poked her with the end of his wooden sword and she jerked away.
The oldest boy jumped on top of a tree stump.
“Bad guys also gamble! Let’s guess what color her underwear is! The winner gets to take them off!”
Her dark green eyes grew wide and she struggled like a caterpillar on a leaf. Her bindings pressed her perky young breasts the the edge of her gown, they looked so squeezable… what was I thinking? Or was this me pretending… The boys went around guessing.
“White!”
“Polkadot!”
“Purple!”
Before I even realized it I shouted
“Pink!”
he other boys looked up at surprise. I didn’t look at the Princess. Because we both knew her all time favorite color was pink. The older boy tipped his sword below the skirts of her dress and lifted for us all to see. Her long white socks raked up to her knees, leading to lean thighs and a tight round ass, which was of course protected by light pink panties.
“He wins!”
They all high fives me, patted my shoulders, and applauded me, nudging me forward. The princesses was faced away from me, long hair splayed across her face anyway. Suddenly I was behind her, crouching down on hands and knees. My body reacting as her body went rigid at my touch. The elastic slid down with ease. Her smooth, soft skin revealing itself as I slid the pink fabric down. I stopped them at her ankles and felt my dick start to prick in excitement. Not knowing what to do I looked up at the older boy who towered above me.
“Well, how’s it look man? Worth seeing?”
I nodded, still struck by her beauty.
“Then lets all take a look see!”
As he said it he pulled on her leg and dragged the skirts of her dress up. A smothered scream erupted from her but they were all louder. WE were all louder. It took moments for us to be bored with us looking and we excitedly started spanking her with the blunt side of our swords. My own slap leaving a small welt on her right cheek. She wriggled in her bindings but by this point I didn’t care. I was a bad guy, and what I wanted was her. I loved her and the part she played.
“Tie her to the front of the fort!”
The order didn’t come from the older boy. It came from me. I wanted to see her, touch her, display our bounty. It took minutes to unbind and rebind her to the fort. I held her waist and chest while she struggled, her body soft in some places and firm in others. The rope bound her wrists and hung her stretched as the rope was pulled taut over the roof top. She dangled at the entrance as a prize. Underwear still at her ankles, a pink flag of defeat.
Ripping at her dress became a game. Who could rip the longest piece. If she kicked you, you were out. It took 20 minutes for her breasts to to be exposed, most of the boys being kicked out, but slapping her due to their missed opportunity. The final tug on her dress ripped all traces of curiosities away.