I was not sure that I wanted to be alive after having seven loads of semen pumped in to my belly, especially not after seeing the look in Withers' eyes. I knew that his heart was broken, that he could no longer look at me as a clean, white plate; now, I was dirty and soon to be chipped and ignored. And he would ignore me. I had lost something more important than my reputation but still, I held out hope. There was nothing that I could offer the Prince that he couldn't already take but there was something else I could offer.
Before this, I had thought that becoming a woman in Withers' arms was going to be the hardest thing that I'd ever faced but I was wrong. The man wearing the crown was not the benevolent regent of storybooks and fairy tales. His proclivities were well-known and his lust for fresh flesh like mine was legendary. If I had the chance to speak to him, I knew that I could win our freedom. If I had the chance to speak ...
* * * * *
Patch and Ramer jerked Cassia to her feet before the Prince had a chance to reply to her request and she vomited twice more before she reached the clear, fresh water.
"Clean yourself." Ramer barked, leaving Patch to supervise her and returning to straighten Shakey's tent. Cassia welcomed the cleansing hand of the water on her soiled flesh and used her hands to scrub every bit of slime away, not only from her skin but from her mouth. She pushed a finger down her throat and endured gush after gush of semen-laced stomach acid, stopping only when the bitter yellow bile was the only thing that came up. She rinsed her mouth again, slowly drank down some of the fresh water and readied herself for meeting the prince.
Shakey's tent had been broomed and a clean sheet covered the leader's favorite chair, making a place for Prince Brenton to sit. A slightly chipped crystal glass filled with some brandy that Shakey kept hidden away was offered and the prince accepted it, hiding his slight grimace.
"Sorry we don't have something better for you, your kingship." Shakey sat down across from the prince, grinning like an idiot. "I hope the brandy's good enough."
"It'll do." Brenton looked at his nails, his expression bored. "Where's the girl?"
The tent flap opened and a shivering Cassia was shoved in, her wet hair hanging limply in front of her face. "Here she is, sire."
Brenton stood, handing the glass to one of Shakey's minions and walked around the girl, eyeing her wares. His hand reached out and grasped her ass, squeezing the firm muscle and pinched a nipple of one of her heavy breasts. "Nice." Brenton tipped her head up, pushing the wet hair out of her face and nearly gasped at her beauty. His expression was noticed by Shakey and the man smiled. "What are you asking?"
"What are you offering, Prince? She's a prime piece."
