The Princess and The Dungeon-Master

Princess Annabel wakes in the middle of the night to find an intruder in her bedchamber. Her father has sent the dungeon-master to convince her she should marry a prince of his choice. But she likes his methods of persuasion a little too much... This short story is roughly 10,000 words long and is not intended for readers under the age of eighteen. More

Princess Annabel has refused to marry any of the princes her father has presented her with, so he gets Patrick the dungeon-master to take her away and make her change her mind.
A whipping doesn't work, in fact she rather enjoys it and the things he does to her when she's locked in the stocks has her fantasising about his touch.
Instead of breaking to his will, the princess takes Patrick's domination as a challenge and sets about turning the tables on him. Will she gain the upper hand and win her freedom?
Contains a princess being stripped and flogged in the stocks, a chastity belt, a game-changing golden shower and first-time sex on the dungeon floor.
This short story is roughly 10,000 words long and is not intended for readers under the age of eighteen.

EXCERPT
The door burst open. “I’ve had just about enough of you.” He stormed inside with a face like thunder. I’d never seen him truly angry before and I hurried behind the table.

He pulled out a chair and plonked it in the middle of the room, then came back to get me. I skipped out of his reach and he ran round the other way. I was smaller and faster, but he was angrier and eventually he just reached across the table and grabbed me by the arm. I couldn’t get free of him. He pulled me around the table and over to the chair, then sat down and threw me across his lap.

“None of this is my fault,” he told me. “This is my job.”

I wriggled on his lap, but he held me fast. “Will you marry the prince?”

“No,” I said and fought to get loose.

He raised his arm and brought the flat of his hand down hard on my ass. I screamed from the shock of it more than the pain. No one had ever spanked me. When I was a child, I’d had a whipping girl named Clara who took all my smacks for me.

“Will you marry the prince?”

“No!”

He spanked me again and it reverberated through my whole body. Suddenly the wooden stub of the chastity belt was a very tight fit indeed.

“Will. You. Marry. The. Prince?” He punctuated every word with a spank and nearly slapped me off his lap.

“No.” My cheeks were hot and sore, but it wasn’t as bad as the whipping. If I’d stood up to that I could take a few licks from his hand.

“Damn you, girl.” He let me up and got to his feet.

He was panting, his big chest visibly rising and falling with exertion. And his trousers were sticking out several inches in front of him.