This story is a work of fiction. The author does not condone acts of non-consent. This story explores fantasies of power and control, so please continue reading with that in mind. Enjoy!
Ruth watched helplessly as Eve's silhouette shrank in the distance, dragged away by the royal guard of Prince Rahal. What was she going to do? Normally the prince took pleasure in his concubines where he found them. Where were they taking Eve?
Two guards remained. And they stared hungrily at Ruth.
The tall, sun-kissed redhead scrabbled up from her white wicker tanning chair. Pristine sand squeaked under her feet as she rushed to the men. Even with her height, the guards, bronzed and bearded, towered over her. She fell under the shadow of their muscles as she neared.
"Where are they going? He's not supposed to just
take
her!"
The men stared at her, stone-faced. One was bald and taller than the other, younger guard, who himself had a full head of thick curly hair.
"She's my friend! What am I supposed to do, sit back and enjoy a martini? Watch the sunset and go home for the day? You're kidding yourselves if you think I'm just leaving her here!"
Small murmurs rustled from the surrounding crowd. While they had enjoyed the show of the prince and his guard dominating Eve, malcontent spread as the safety of Prince Beach was questioned. Particularly their own safety, as potential concubines for the prince.
The guards glanced at each other. Smirks slashed harsh shadows over their faces in the noontime sun.
Ruth raised a finger at the pair. "Take me to her,
right now
," she stamped her foot with lethal ferocity, "or so help me you'll be sorry." Her sweet southern drawl suddenly seemed closer to a dangerous country twang, with a hint of wild and reckless.
The bald guard raised both hands and announced to the crowds, "Concubines for the prince are safe. We take her to her friend now. Enjoy the beach and complimentary gifts from His Royal Highness."
Servants issued forth out of every nook and cranny, flowing through the chairs and umbrellas, cabanas and tables laid out on the luxurious beachside. They carried wide trays laden with small parcels wrapped in golden paper and red ribbons.
Beachgoers exclaimed in delight as the servants began imparting the gifts, small and large and square and oddly shaped alike. Before Ruth could glimpse any of the contents, the two guards picked her up by the arms as if she weighed nothing, and whisked her away, lost in the commotion.
...
They unceremoniously dropped her on a plush daybed not far from the crowds. She plopped on the cushions with an
ooph
.
The daybed sat in a walled garden of sorts, open on one end to the ocean waves, but closed on the other three sides by wooden lattice walls covered in ivy and tropical creeping plants.
Tall banana leaf trees commanded both corners of the garden, and a tiled walkway ran along the rattan base of the daybed.
The bed itself was a vision of luxury. Situated in the center of the garden, with a flowing cream canopy to shade from the sun above, and a base that simply rested in the sand, the plush cushions were inviting, even in the heat.
Ruth's tousled hair blew in the breeze that flowed through the leaves and the lattice, but she could see nothing through the walls. They were far enough away from the others that all she could hear were the waves lapping on the shore.
She sat up on her elbows and glowered at her captors. She blew a lock of her red hair out of her flushed face.
"Take me to Eve!" she demanded.
She focused her gaze on the bald one, whom she knew to be in charge, having gathered that he was older and obviously higher-ranked than the other during the manhandling-trek through the sand. Omar was his name, and the younger guard was Talha.
Omar clapped his hands together and grinned with delight. "Oh we will, my darling!" He rubbed his palms together. "No need to worry your pretty head! All in due time, due time," he finished, trailing off.
Without much warning, the younger guard seized her and in a few swift movements he roughly ripped off her bathing suit. Her tits sprang out and she scrambled to cover her crotch with her hands.
She had to admit she was already soaked from her close encounter with the prince. She had been so ready for him to take her. She would have been ready to get fucked right where she sat, even in front of Eve and all the rest of the beachgoers.
Watching Eve get chosen and toyed with hadn't helped, even with the jealousy that twinged in Ruth's chest.
And now she was naked and exposed. Utterly alone with two giant men, who had designs of their own.
Talha stepped back to admire his work, gloating, dangling her suit just out of her reach, and then tossing it into the sand far beyond the confines of the garden walls.
She had no choice but to lie there, making a sad attempt to cover herself, as they devoured her with their eyes. Her heart raced in her chest, Eve forgotten for the moment.
Omar brazenly reached for his stiffening cock and began to stroke it through his flowing cream pants.
The nerve!
Talha kept his hands to himself, though his naked chest, covered in curling dark hair, heaved with quickening breath.
Ruth's long legs splayed before her, golden, with curving calves. She covered her pussy with both hands, but red pubic hair could just be seen peeking out around her fingers. Her breasts were full and heavy, tipped with small pink nipples, now hard in the open air. Her wetness coated her fingers as she tried to hide her cunt.
The bulge in Omar's pants grew larger by the second, impossibly huge. She shifted, attempting to cover her breasts as well, and he groaned and let out a little laugh. "I'm sure you know why we're here," he let out between strokes.
Ruth said nothing. She glared back at them, unafraid.
Talha took a step toward the daybed. He still hadn't said a word, but a bulge was forming in his pants as well, unmistakable. She flinched back, pressing against the headboard while doing her best to guard her nakedness.
And suddenly he was on her.
Talha sprang on the cushions with her, deftly grabbing her knees and spreading her legs wide. Before she could make a move, his hot wet tongue was worshipping the soft pink folds of her cunt. She let out a cry at his touch, the ecstasy too much on her sensitive and soaked pussy.
Her arms splayed wide, gripping the headboard while her vision went white. He sucked on her clit and his lips were like heaven. Through the ringing in her ears, she forced herself to focus.
Her vision clearing, rage filled her chest as she looked on him lapping between her legs, and both her fists rained down on his back, his shoulders, the side of his head.
"Now you stop that!" she yelped with as much force as she could muster.
Her blows cuffed him hard and he retreated on his knees, but then Omar was there, a linen rope produced from his belt, and her hands were tied behind her back before she could do any real damage.
She spat at both of them, her fiery locks ruffled in her face, sticking to the sweat that beaded on her forehead. Ungodly names flowed from her lips in her sweet southern accent.
The guards spoke to each other in a tongue foreign to Ruth, quick and low. Determining her fate, she was sure.
Omar turned back to her. A brilliant white smile dazzled her.
