Page 22 of The Prince and His Bodyguards
My, how quickly life changes. After I was kidnapped by Ragnar, Mizhir, and Rizza, I wasn’t sure what to expect. They plundered my curves every which way that first night, and I was sure they’d turn me loose afterwards because despite my threats, there was nothing for the three men to fear from me. Even if I went to the police, what would I say? That a prince from some obscure European country attacked me, and that I was ravaged by him and his two bodyguards? That I cried out their names with ecstasy each time they claimed my sweetness?
Even crazier, I loved it. The second time with my trio of lovers was eye opening because not only did Ragnar DP me with his double-pronged cock, but it turns out he has a knot at the bottom of the lower one. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it when I was giving him oral, but maybe it was because of the craziness of the entire situation. More likely, I was so horny that it probably just slipped my notice.
But Idefinitelynoticed when he pushed his bulge into my asshole. I couldn’t even see what he was doing because Rizza had his cock jammed halfway down my throat, and Mizhir was straddling my torso as he fucked my titties. But trust me, I felt it when Ragnar forced his bulge in, stretching my asshole so much that I let out a keening wail, the intensity driving me out of my mind. The knot felt as big as a man’s fist, and the prince merely groaned with appreciation as my bottom hole pulsed around him.
“Fuck, you’re perfect, Ali,” he rasped. “How did we get so lucky?”
Then the men came like animals, filling me full of their male virility, and it only made me descend into sub-space once again. But still, I didn’t know what to expect when I came to. After all, I was stretched, sated, panting, and halfway anticipating that they’d throw me out on the streets, naked and embarrassed. But instead, after a week of frenetic coupling (in which we barely got out of bed), the prince and his henchmen hustled me onto a private plane. I didn’t have my passport, but it didn’t seem to matter and before I realized it, we were landing in Lysenia.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a breathless tone. Of course, the three men had used me mercilessly in the private bedroom in back of the plane, a fitting introduction to the Mile High Club.
Mizhir winked at me, his rugged face handsome and amused.
“You’ve been kidnapped, sweetheart. What else?”
I stare at him.
“Again? What? To where?”
“To our homeland,” Rizza replied with a smile. “Welcome, Ali. We hope you learn to love our country as much as we do.”
Before I could formulate a reply, I was whisked from the plane and straight to a beautiful manor in the Lysenian countryside. It’s a huge, gated mansion with lovely gardens surrounding it, and an actual forest in the back. I think the men hunt in the woods sometimes, although I don’t ask. The thought of killing another living creature scares me, and I purposefully avert my eyes when they return from their afternoon jaunts.
But even crazier, we don’t have any neighbors in sight, and the privacy suits Mizhir, Rizza, and Ragnar.
“The better with which to own you, sweetheart,” Rizza rasped in my ear later that night as he claimed my curves doggy-style. “We want to use this beautiful body to our heart’s content, without having to worry that you’re going to run off and tell someone.”
I panted, craning to look at the big man over one svelte shoulder.
“I wouldn’t run off! I swear, I wouldn’t!”
Mizhir merely shrugged while stroking my brown curls.
“Relax, honey. Rizza’s just talking shit. But yeah, let’s just say we enjoy having you to ourselves and we want to take every precaution.”
Then, a huge climax seized me, making me shudder with full-body tremors. But afterwards, in the privacy of my lavish dressing room, I realized that there was in fact no way for me to escape. I could bolt out the front door and run for miles and miles and never encounter another soul. Plus, the manor seems to have every modern amenity, except for a phone. It’s strange.
“How will I contact my friends and family?” I asked one evening over dinner. “They must be worried.”
Ragnar smiled, baring his white teeth.
“Easy, honey. We’ll let you have internet access once a week. You can write some missives on a device that we provide, but we don’t want you to have too much screen time. It’s bad for the eyes, not to mention the brain,” the prince grinned. As a result, I communicate with my family using a laptop that Mizhir procures once a week, but otherwise, I’m cut off from my old life. Of course, my emails are monitored so I don’t say much; just that I’m traveling through Europe on an extended vacation.
It's not so bad though. Here in Lysenia, I live a life of luxury. The men don’t keep me chained or jailed, although of course, I suppose there’s nowhere to go. Instead, we have a full staff at the house that takes care of the cooking, cleaning, and various household chores. I have the run of the manor, which includes a private gym, sauna, entertainment room, and two swimming pools. My lovers have furnished me with the most elegant wardrobe too, and they even like to watch me model the naughty lingerie they’ve selected on my behalf.
But after a few weeks, I get the surprise of my life. I’m lounging by the pool one day when Ragnar approaches. He blocks out the sun and I look up at him from behind my shades, shielding my face with one hand.
“Is everything ok?” I ask sweetly, knowing that my plush form looks lush and tempting. The men prefer that I sunbathe topless, and as a result, I only have the tiniest g-string strapped over my hips, revealing my giant Double Ds and narrow waist.
Ragnar’s blue eyes sweep over my tits hungrily, but he maintains his distance.
“Sweetheart, get dressed. We’re taking you to a tournament.”
I blink.
“I’m sorry. A what?”
Ragnar nods, his black hair falling over his forehead in a boyish comma.