Kill the Prince in his sleep and become a beloved war hero.

I couldn't sleep.

After a while, I began quietly pulling on the lock on my cage. It wasn't hard to get free.

I crept into the moonlight, basking in its glow. It was a crescent moon, but nonetheless, the moon.

I took in a deep breath, feeling the magic of the moon surge into me.

I looked over at the Prince, then back to the moon. Over the horizon on my right, the north was counting on me.

I looked back to the Prince.

Somewhere out there, over the mountains, were elves dying in battle, waiting for someone to kill the South's Prince and King.

I looked back to the Prince.

I took a deep breath, blinking as I refused to cry or hesitate. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave the moon a bow, a salute to my country.

I crept to his bedside. He was sound asleep.

I checked the door. It was locked good and tight, but I could wait to break out in the morning when they came to check in on him.

I went back to his bedside.

Then I took my time searching the room for a painless weapon. Unfortunately, there wasn't one.

I looked back at the Prince. I wasn't supposed to hesitate.

I sat down on the ground, examining the room so it'd never leave my mind.

I looked back to the Prince.

A while later, I finally picked up a pillow to smother him with. I held it over his head. I closed my eyes. I grit my teeth. I took a deep breath.

I yelped. In an instant, he'd grabbed me by the wrists and rolled over to pin me down on the bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He held my wrists in one hand above my head, and smacked my cheek with the other, just hard enough to leave a red spot.

I struggled against him, but even with the moon's slight power, I still felt weak from the past hunger that had eaten away at my muscle.

He swallowed, looking down into my glowing lavender eyes, disappointed.

"That's not painless, now is it?"

"It's my mission," I insisted. "I'm sorry--"

"Your new mission is to obey my every word, is that clear?"

I swallowed.

"Akira, is that clear?"

I didn't reply.

"I'm hoping you'll obey me voluntarily, but I'm not afraid to **** you into submission. You're my **** now. Your country betrayed you-- you know I'm all you've got. Don't screw it up by killing me."

I thrashed against him.

"Stop it. You've pissed me off enough for one night. Now tell me what you are."

"A killing machine."

"No." He slapped me again. "What are you, Akira?"

I bit my lip, staring deep into his eyes, hesitating. "A killing machine."

He slapped me again. "This is the last time. What are you?"

He glared at me good and hard. The fire in his eyes made me hesitate before, but when it gets focused in on you like a sunbeam under a magnifying glass, it was terrifying.

"Your ****," I hissed.

"Exactly. Now what's that mean?"

I swallowed.

"Answer me, slut."

"That I'm your property," I murmured.

"So I'm allowed to do anything I want to you," he hissed. "I could tie you up with your legs in the air and fuck you until you couldn't even breathe. And believe me, it wouldn't be hard to turn you into an orgasming, dripping, trembling mess."

I bit my lip.

"I could parade you, naked, around the castle, for all to see, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn't cover a thing. You could share that beautiful body of yours with the whole world."

"Please, no..."

"I could make you spend all day sucking my cock, and tell you that my cum would be the only nourishment you'd be getting. You'd get thirsty. You'd get hungry. But all you'd be allowed to do would be eat my meat and drink me dry."

"I--"

"Don't interrupt. What if I took you back into the dungeons, and watched the guards toy with you? They've got some very interesting ideas... They want to fuck all your holes and see what they can fit up into that tiny little pussy of yours. I'd certainly love seeing you as a horny, mindless, cock-hungry little ****."

I was nearly ready to cry.

"You understand now? You can't do anything to me, but the things I could do to you..." He snickered. "The possibilities are endless."

"Yes."

"Yes what?" he asked.

"Yes, I understand."

"You've got five seconds to add a 'Master' to that, or I'll--"

"Yes, Master, I understand." I blurted.

He glowered at me.

"I'm sorry, Master, I interrupted..."

He scoffed, shaking his head and looking down at me.

I gulped.

He slapped my cheek and released my wrists. "Go back to your damn cage."

I scurried back to my cage, and he followed with a drowsy shuffle, putting a lock and chain around the bars where the door met the cell.

"You're not getting breakfast," he added before he went back into bed.

If I couldn't fall asleep before, I surely wasn't going to then.

.

~ ~ ~

.

The next morning, I waited anxiously for him to wake up. When he finally did, he took a long look at me, and went to his walk-in closet to get dressed.

It was a while before he came back out. He walked right in front of my cage, his arms crossed.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

He nodded slowly. "Well, at least it took you two hours to work up the courage to do it. And they check to make sure I'm alive before they open my doors, by the way."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" the Prince beckoned. "Just like that."

A painter walked in, carrying an easel with a canvas and a box full of paints. "All set?"

"Not quite," he said. He unlocked my cage and led me to his dresser, where he began brushing my long hair. "He's here to paint a picture of us. I wanted to shove it in the King's face that you haven't killed me yet."

I swallowed.

Once finished, he pulled a chair in front of the window and sat down. "Come here."

I did. He patted his lap, and I didn't hesitate to sit on it, knowing he was still upset with me. With the painter to my left, and the Prince just in front of my nose, I decided to look at the painter.

The Prince wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him. I felt my blood rush down to my pussy.

The painter did a bit of repositioning, brushed my hair behind my ear, and began outlining his drawing.

"This'll take a few hours," the Prince said. "Get comfy."

I felt exposed, still wearing the silver bra and underwear, but I didn't say anything.

We didn't talk at all, waiting for the painter to finish. But the temperature in the room got hotter as I felt a bulge underneath my thigh.

"If you want the elf to have a certain hand position, now's the time to choose it," the painter said eventually.

The Prince positioned my left hand to rest on his chest, and the other to hold in midair just above my lap, moving me like a doll.

It didn't take long for my right arm to get sore. It began to tremble and slip downwards.

"Hold it still," he told me.

"I'm finished with that part," the painter said, "if it needs to put its hand down."

"No, she can hold it there a while longer," he said.

So I did.

.

~ ~ ~

.

The Prince watched the painting being lifted up onto the wall, with me on a leash at his side. "The smirk was a nice touch," he told the painter.

"Thank you. You insisted it, sire."

"That I did."

The King walked elegantly down the hall, downed in his finest robes and crown, and accompanied by several of the high officials.

He stopped in front of the painting, hung before it had even begun to dry. His eyes narrowed.

"I see you've taken a liking to the elf. Brilliant job," he congratulated the painter. "Must've been tricky to make it look like it was on his lap."

"She was," the Prince replied. "She held still for hours, I'm proud of her. We should get you something," he said to me. "Have you ever tried the chocolate pudding our chef makes? It's simply exquisite."

Smug satisfaction emanated from the Prince. It was a victory for both him and me. I shook my head in response to his question.

"Well, you know what chocolate tastes like."

I shook my head.

"Really? Guard, tell the chef to make his finest chocolate desserts please."

"I'd like to speak with you in the throne room," the King said, his face red with fury. He could hardly contain the bitterness in his voice. "Now."

"Of course," the Prince replied, and followed him as he left, taking me with him.

With my long ears I could hear his heart pounding. I looked up at him, and he didn't look back. His pupils were dilated, and his hands were a bit sweaty. He was in over his head.

The throne room was massive, with red carpet, gold decorations, and intricate paintings all over the walls and ceiling. Sunlight poured in, casting ominous shadows from the massive pillars that were wider and taller than a tree trunk.

The King sat down and took a deep breath. "Son, that creature is not a toy, and is not to be taken lightly. It is a demon! You must instill fear into it, or else it will never obey you."

"Personally I think abusing her will only make her want to kill me more," the Prince replied, his voice cracking slightly.

"We didn't keep it for your fun. We kept it to wage psychological warfare on the North. It needs to be mentally broken. The North knows it's being kept a ****, and you need to treat it like one."

"I believe if we can earn her affection, she can become a mediator that--"

"Silence! I don't want to hear any more of this bullshit. You're embarrassing yourself. No one in the North wants to serve an elf-lover as their King. Treat her like a human, and the citizens will turn against you. There'll be **** attempts left and right."

The Prince bit his tongue, knowing better than to say what he wanted to.

The King shook his head. "You're a complete and utter disappointment. You have no idea how to rule a kingdom or treat your enemies." Everyone surrounding him and the King looked at him with a hard stare, agreeing with the King's every word. "Think hard before you answer this, boy. How should that elf be treated? Should you give it chocolate desserts?"

He grit his teeth. "No."

"Then how should it be treated?"

"Like an enemy of the South."

"And has it been punished for its crimes as an enemy of the south?"

"Yes."

"No! No it hasn't. It has killed countless people, as well as trying to kill you and me. And we've done nothing but shelter it, and you've fed it plenty. So how should it be punished?"

The Prince tightened his grip on my leash. "She should be whipped."

"Well, that's a good start. So if you want to have any chance at ruling this kingdom, what are you going to do?"

"Punish her."

"Exactly. Guard."

A knight standing next to the King moved forward and handed the Prince a whip.

"Now use it."