Demon Princess Sahariel (futa, orgasm denial, bdsm)

As first born, she was almost the picture of feminine beauty among her kind.

Her rose pink skin was a touch too light to be considered attractive among the ruling class of the Redeemed. Darker shades of red were much more in vogue, and many noble women of a lighter complexion would make use of careful cosmetics to deepen their skin tone.

Her figure was curvy enough, with wide hips flaring out from a narrow waist. However, her bust and buttocks were out of proportion with the sleek and svelte ideals of the city state. Yes, the Redeemed nobility prized beauty to the point of **** vanity, but they preferred their women have smaller figures while still maintaining the perfect waist-to-hip ratio. Sahariel Quentax was woefully over burdened in this regard. Her tits were far too large for her frame, nearing the size of her head. No amount of binding or flowing clothing could seem to contain or conceal them, they had a life of their own. Her ass protruded so far out that it became the focal point of any skirt that she tried to wear. Her large bulbous ass was impossible to hide, and any skirt that she wore only seemed to accentuate the smooth swaying cheeks.

She tried to reduce these problematic aspects of her body through rigid nutrition and grueling exercise, but it took a massive amount of effort to see barely any change. It seemed that if she ever put on any type of weight, her body fat would be perfectly and proportionally added to her tits and her ass. And ONLY her tits and ass. There was no roundness to her belly, no puppy fat. She was lean and supple in every other regard. Her younger sister Ashniel had taken to calling her “Cow Tits” when no one else was around.

Her face was lovely, but just slightly too lush for the nobility. Her lips were too full, her cheekbones were high, but not sharp enough. She had tried to pluck her eyebrows into the same sinister arch as her mother’s, but they seemed to revert into gentle slopes almost overnight. Dark eyes peered out from heavy lashes, so dark it was hard to see her pupil within the iris. Her thick black hair would be the envy of half the city if anyone was able to look past her horns.

Two twin nubs of glossy black gently protruded from her forehead at her hairline. So small as to be shameful. Too short to file to a point. Her mother’s elegant horns swept back across her scalp and rose to a fine needle tip. Her father’s horns curled up and out, the thick spikes of a bull. Her sister’s rose nearly straight from her forehead with a subtle curve backwards. Such jutting horns were considered to be a mark of good breeding, which Ash enjoyed reminding Sahariel frequently.

All of this might have been fine for the fickle courts of Sephiria’s chosen city if not for two things. First, she was far too timid. The demonic courts of the Redeemed focused on casual domination in all things. Conversations were a competition. Etiquette was a weapon. Fashion was a display of superiority. Favor and money was how everyone kept score. Sahariel found that no amount of practice and drilling from her tutors helped in the slightest. She was always too accommodating, too kind, too gullible, the butt of the joke.

The second thing, very few knew about. For now.

Despite her smooth skin and **** proportions, Sahariel was not technically a woman. She had been ‘cursed’ as some would say. It happened sometimes, but it was always shameful when it occurred in a noble house, especially one as noble as the Quentaxian bloodline. There were theories about why it happened. Perhaps one of her ancestors had secretly betrayed Sephiria, Lady of Order. Or maybe her family’s connection to Felhorses of old was too powerful. No one really knew.

Regardless, a massive member hung between her shapely thighs. Nearly as long as her forearm when erect, it was difficult to ignore. Large smooth balls nestled behind her shameful cock, often pressed close to her body eager for release. It had always been an issue for her. She blamed it for her massive libido. Growing up she had frequently needed to excuse herself and relieve the monster before it created a scene. Upon reaching her age of majority, she had been jerking her swollen cock upwards of six times every day just to get by. Very few people knew about her shameful secret, and she did not want to disgrace her family.

However, this was proving even more difficult of late. She had taken the vows of Sephiria, as all members of the Royal bloodline did. As a result, she was now incapable of lying, but it didn't affect her like it did the rest of her family. Whereas the rest of her family could simply omit information or choose not to answer a question, she could only answer truthfully in all things. She could not prevaricate, or leave information out. She could not get around her oath by being clever, she was honest to a degree of absurdity.

This had been disastrous. She remembered when Ash asked her where she went after their mutual lessons on statecraft.

“I was masturbating in my room. I needed to jerk my throbbing cock or everyone would know how horny I was.” Sahariel had felt her face reddening as a wicked smile had started to climb her, technically, twin sister’s mouth. “I thought about being **** to suck Master Lewellyn’s cock while Mistress DeLong struck me with her paddle.”

Despite her orgasm just a few minutes ago and the embarrassment she felt brightening her entire face, her large nipples stiffened in excitement under the bodice of her dress. Ash glanced down in amusement at Sahariel’s traitorous chest and opened her mouth to make some kind of comment or ask a follow up question. Ears burning, Sahariel had fled back to her room before Ash could say anything.

She now spent nearly all of her time avoiding people, terrified of what she might reveal if asked the wrong question. She was expected to maneuver within the dangerous political circles of the court. There was no way she could interact with others without shaming her entire family.

Then the Queen Mother had had enough.

Sahariel rubbed her fingertips along the back of her neck as she sat staring at her reflection in her vanity. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there. A spidery mark placed there by a Shacklemage.

She remembered lying face down as the black mark was carefully inscribed onto the skin of her upper neck. Her father and mother had looked on dispassionately at her naked body as she quietly cried, confused and bewildered by the experience. Her penis however, snaked down between her legs as she lay face down on the table. It seemed to pulse and leak in time with the jabbing of the needle used to write on her skin. Erect and twitching with desire despite the burning pain in her neck, or perhaps because of it.

The gentle tinkling of the chains around the wizard’s hands had slowed, and she was bidden to stand up before her mother and father. She stood before them, skin shiny with sweat, her full breasts rising and falling with her ragged breathing. The massive cock between her legs stood out proudly, a string of precum leaking from the tip.

Her mother broke the awkward silence.

“You will either learn to control yourself, or you will not be allowed to inherit.” The Queen spoke coldly. “You will disgrace yourself before the eyes of Sephiria, the Court, and the people of Elegar and be cast down, or you will master yourself enough to be queen in my stead. I care not either way.”

Sahariel stared agog at her mother. Her eyes flicked up to the penetrating gaze of her father looming behind his queen. She couldn’t understand.

“As of this moment, there is no one within the castle beneath you in station. You will sleep in your royal chambers. You will have access to the castle. You will be in every appearance the princess, but you will obey every order given to you. Whether it’s your father, your sister, or the palace staff, you will do what they say. Am I understood?”

Sahariel swallowed. Her twitching cock let out another string of precum at her mother’s words. What was wrong with her?

“Yes ma’am.” She whispered.

The Queen nodded. “Good, now here are your three commands. These will be considered the commands that are always in effect unless I say otherwise.” Queen Nahariel placed a delicate finger on a silver amulet that nestled in her cleavage.

“You may not orgasm unless you have permission from a member of the royal family.”

Sahariel felt a shiver start from the back of her neck and run throughout her body. Her skin prickled and she gasped with the strange sensation. The pool of precum underneath her cock grew larger.

“You will follow orders as long as it does not cause harm to yourself or others.”

Sahariel felt her nipples stiffen and her skin pebble. It was like her nervous system was in overdrive.

Nahariel paused before allowing a cruel smile to dance across her lips.

“You will make sure you have experienced three hours of being on the edge of orgasm between when you wake and go to sleep.”

Sahariel jolted from her reverie at the sound of the door opening in her luxurious bedroom. The palace staff no longer respected her privacy and entered her room according to their own whims. Several servants began wheeling in a small table. Sahariel’s stomach rumbled despite the sinking feeling she felt.

Fluffy breakfast cakes coated in syrup. Steaming hot blueberry muffins, sugary crystals sparkling in the morning light. A rich breakfast quiche loaded with bacon and cream. A variety of chilled fruit juices, condensation beading on the fine crystal glass.

Her mouth watered and her stomach twisted in dread.

“Your highness, the cook has ordered that you eat as much as you can”

Sahariel hoped she would be given the option of dressing in loose clothing today, but she doubted it.