Epilogue #2
Prince Hendren’s eyes darkened with unmistakable hunger as he withdrew his hand and stood, moving to the bed.
“Your wish is granted, my eager little concubine,” he said, settling back against the pillows with predatory grace.
“First, you’re going to show me how well you’ve learned to please your master. ”
He gestured to his magnificent erection, already hard and ready. “Reverse equestrian, Viola. I want to watch that beautiful bottom of mine as you work to satisfy me.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as I understood what he required.
The position was one of the most shameful I had learned during my training—facing away from him, my back to his chest, riding him while he watched my most intimate responses.
It emphasized my role as the one who must work to please him, using my body like an instrument for his pleasure.
I climbed onto the bed with trembling legs, positioning myself over his hips. The angle felt strange and exposing as I reached back to guide him to my pussy, my face burning with the mortification of having to work myself down onto his length while he simply lay back and observed my efforts.
“That’s it,” he murmured approvingly as I began to sink down onto him. “Take your time. Show me how eager you are to serve.”
I bit my lip as I worked myself lower, feeling the familiar stretch as he filled me completely. The position made me acutely aware of how I was the one moving, the one laboring to bring him pleasure while he remained still and commanding beneath me.
“Remember your training,” he said, his hands settling on my hips with possessive weight. “Use those muscles I had you develop. Show me how perfectly you can grip your master’s cock.”
I flushed deeper as I recalled the humiliating time with the measuring device, the clinical way Mistress Nurana had trained me to control my most intimate responses. Now I tried to put that degrading education to use, deliberately tightening my internal muscles as I began to ride him.
The effect was immediate. Prince Hendren’s breathing grew heavier as I gripped him with rhythmic precision, my body working to milk pleasure from his magnificent length. I could feel his arousal building beneath me, his hips beginning to move involuntarily despite his attempts to remain in control.
“Perfect,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Such a good little concubine, using her cunny exactly as she was trained.”
I moved faster, driven by the desperate need to please him and the building pleasure in my own core. The lack of my governor’s suppression made every sensation overwhelming, my body responding with shameful eagerness to the intimate friction.
Suddenly, Prince Hendren’s control snapped. His hands seized my hips with bruising force as he began to thrust up into me with devastating force. I cried out as he claimed complete control, using my body with the ruthless authority that never failed to drive me to the edge of sanity.
“Yes!” I screamed, my body convulsing as I felt his powerful lap slap my bottom like a reminder of the discipline under which my master kept me. “Oh… oh… please…”
Prince Hendren knew what I wanted, what I needed.
His right hand left my hip and somehow he found the handheld and turned on the governor’s stimulation.
The buzz of the vibration hit me like lightning, my entire nervous system exploding with sensation as my master continued his relentless claiming of my body.
I screamed as the most devastating climax of my life tore through me, my internal muscles clenching around his cock with a force that made him groan beneath me.
“Viola,” he gasped, his voice rough with more than just physical pleasure. “My beautiful, perfect, powerful little whore…”
The tenderness in his tone sent another wave of sensation through me even as my body shook with the aftershocks of climax. His hands moved from my hips to wrap around my waist, pulling me back against his chest as he continued to move within me with gentler strokes.
“I love you,” he breathed against my ear, the words hitting me with more force than any cane ever could. “Do you hear me? I love you. You are more than a concubine to me.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as his confession sank in. Three months of serving him, of being his property, and now this declaration that changed everything.
“I’m going to make you my consort,” he continued, his lips brushing my neck as he spoke. “My favorite fuck toy. And Viola… I’m going to put a baby in you. My child. A little prince or princess who will be the symbol of everything we’ve built together.”
The words sent a shock through my entire being. A baby. His heir. The ultimate claim of ownership, and yet also the ultimate elevation from mere property to something precious beyond measure.
“Do you want that?” he asked, his voice vulnerable in a way I’d never heard before. “Do you want to carry my child, to be the mother of the future of the Federation?”
The answer erupted from my throat without thought: “Yes! Oh God, yes, Master! Please, put your baby in me!”
Prince Hendren’s grip tightened as his own climax approached, his thrusts becoming more urgent. “Then take my seed, my sweet slut. Take everything I have to give you.”
With a final, powerful surge, he released his seed deep within me, his warmth flooding my core as I felt another climax building in response to his.
The knowledge that he might be planting his child in me at this very moment sent me over the edge again, my body convulsing around him as I cried out my devotion.
“I love you too, Master,” I sobbed, the words feeling both terrifying and inevitable. “I love you, and I want everything you’re offering me.”
As we lay entwined afterward, his seed still warm inside me, I marveled at how completely my life had transformed. From president to concubine to consort to potential mother of his heir—each step had felt like a fall, but now I understood it had been a strange, wayward ascent all along.
“You should understand what you’re accepting, Viola,” Prince Hendren said, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my bare shoulder. “A Magisterian consort is still owned property. You will remain my possession in every legal sense.”
I turned in his arms to face him, seeing the familiar calculating expression that meant he was ensuring I understood the full implications of what he offered.
“But,” he continued, “you will be recognized as the foremost sexual servant in the Federation. The highest ranking concubine in the galaxy. Only I will be allowed to command you, and other women will be expected to acknowledge your status.”
The words sent a complex thrill through me.
To be elevated above all other concubines—to hold a position of honor even in my submission—was a strange kind of power that appealed to the politician I had once been.
Yet I found myself wondering, as I had so many times before, whether my excitement was genuine or simply another layer of the performance I had constructed around my surrender.
Did I truly crave this recognition, or was I simply playing the role of the ambitious concubine who would do anything to rise in her master’s favor?
The question felt familiar now; that eternal uncertainty about where my authentic self ended and my carefully crafted submission began.
Perhaps that ambiguity was itself the source of my contentment—living in the space between truth and performance, never quite knowing which was which.
“The position comes with responsibilities,” Prince Hendren continued, his eyes searching my face.
“You would represent the Federation’s ideals in the most intimate way possible.
Your body, your submission, your very existence would be a symbol of what we offer to the galaxy. Can you accept that burden?”
I considered his words carefully, feeling the weight of what he was proposing. To become not just his personal property, but a living embodiment of Magisterian principles—it would mean surrendering any remaining privacy, any last vestige of an outward self that existed apart from his authority.
“Viola,” he said, his voice taking on the formal cadence of a legal proceeding, “do you consent to become my consort? To accept the elevation and the responsibilities that come with it?”
I looked into his eyes, seeing the man who had broken me down and rebuilt me, and I looked inside me, too, and saw that even if my outward being always reflected my submission, the world inside me would remain complicated; truly, I would never have to choose between performance and reality.
My power lay untouched within me, all the greater for my belonging to the prince.
“Yes, Master,” I said. “Oh, yes.”
The End