ANOTHER BOOK OF BS INSTEAD OF SLEEP

My Body's Shaking

"Steampunk sleeping beauty."

welp

I was just horny ig

The prince had woken up in chains, drugged and thrown into the palace dungeons.

He always knew the king despised him, but he posed no threat to the man's power. An enchantress had been hired, and he, Prince Edge, was now cursed to be chained in this place for a hundred years, unless he was "claimed," though at the time he didn't know what it meant.

Now, he's perfectly aware of what the words implied. The curse was such that he would never be free, always owned or enslaved.

He didn't mind too much, not when his owner threw him to the ground and spanked him, not when he was slammed against the wall and choked, not when he was verbally degraded despite his royal blood.

He loved every second of his new master experimenting on him.

He loved being massaged and groped so possessively, and being kissed until he couldn't breathe. He loved being crushed against the wall, Master's cock so deep inside him, ramming into him mercilessly until cum leaked steadily out of him with every harsh thrust.

He loved being immobilized by ropes and chains and cuffs, a helpless toy for Master's pleasure. He loved being blindfolded and gagged, bound with his ass in the air so Master could whip him and cane him and punish him for his sluttiness.

Sometimes Master would grab his face and slam their lips together, shoving his tongue down his throat. It felt good when Master kissed him so hard that his lips split, and slap him for moaning.

Master also liked to play with toys, shoving them inside him and turning them on to see how much he would cum. The more he came, the harder Master would spank him like the naughty little slut he is.

He hung on to Master's words when Master came blessed him with his seed, "I love you, whore." He could never get enough of that delicious seed.

He liked to have Master's cock ravaging his throat, Master holding his head in place and pounding his cock down his tight throat.

He loved Master's cum all over his face, dripping from his mouth and ass and down his thighs. He loved Master leaving hickeys on his skin, whipping his ass, owning him.

He waited every day for Master to come and play with his living fucktoy, once a prince but now nothing more than a cumdump to be abused for pleasure.

Everyday, Master told him, "Thank you for your service, Your Highness," when they were done, and bow to him. Edge always laughed it off, he was no prince. He was a toy. Master's toy.

One day, after a daze of hot, messy kissing, Edge gushed, "I'm your slave, Master~!"

Master stopped touching him and just stared, with a sort of sad look on his face.

After what felt like far too long, Master moved.

Master stroked Edge's cheek gently, tucking a piece of hair out of his face.

"No. I serve you, my prince. And please, call me Lance..."