Stab yourself immobile before the attack dog potion activates.

With my last few moments of control, I began to violently stab myself with the weapons I'd fashioned waiting for the Prince.

I was well-acquainted with my anatomy. I knew where to stab the back of my heel so I couldn't walk. I knew to stick weapons into my joints. I then stuck one in the back of my neck, paralyzing half my body.

And oh hell...it really hurt...

I knew I could heal in the full moon, but it was insanely agonizing. I knew the spell on the Prince was incredibly strong when he didn't respond to the sound of my screaming.

As unclear as I dream, I drearily saw myself grasping at the floor, trying to drag my way over to the Prince to attack him. It took my forever to reach his bed, and I couldn't get up to where he lay. Luckily, I was stuck.

At some point, the Prince woke up, recovering twice as fast as he was meant to, and approached me.

I was hissing and spitting and foaming at the mouth.

He pinned me down and pet my hair. "Shh, it's just a spell. I know you're still in there. Calm down. Look at me, listen to my voice. Come back to me, little thing."

I calmed down, going limp, out of breath. He dragged me into the moonbeam and continued to pet me. Every once in a while I twitched, or hissed again, but he held me down and kept petting me, talking in a gentle voice.

"Come on, you're alright. It'll wear off in a few minutes. Tell me what you are, Akira. What are you?"

"Your ****," I breathed, panting.

"Yes. Now what am I?"

"My master."

"What's your name?"

"Akira."

"Good, now say it all again. What are you?"

I had no idea how long he was doing that, but when the moon rose, I woke up in the moonbeam, tied down, with the Prince sitting next to me, asleep.

I didn't hurt anymore. I pulled against the ropes a bit, and the Prince awoke with a start, instinctively holding me down.

"You back?" he asked.

I nodded.

He sighed. "I can't let you go yet. The spell might not totally be gone."

There were bruises on his face, and his lip was bleeding. His nose was broken, his eye was black, and one of his arms was bent the wrong way. He looked exhausted. "I'm so sorry," I begged.

"It's not your fault. They're trying to make it look like you escaped in the full moon and killed me."

"Get me out of the moonbeam," I said. "If it might come back."

"You opened those wounds even more. You need to heal."

"I might kill you."

"Then let's get more rope," he said flatly. "I'm damn good with knots." He shakily rose to his feet and grabbed more rope, hanging on the wall in his closet, and returned, leaning against the wall for support. "Well, looks like we can go to hell together now," he said.

He knelt down and tied me up tighter using one hand and his teeth.

"You alright, ****?" he asked.

"Why do you ask it like that?" I retorted.

"Cause you spent at least ten minutes saying nothing but '****' over and over. You alright?"

"Yeah, because I'm in a moonbeam, but you're not."

"I'll be fine."

"You shouldn't put an attacking moonlight elf in a moonbeam."

"I told you those cuts need to heal. I don't intend on you dying of infection. Now go back to sleep."

"There are more weapons in my bed," I admitted quietly.

"Thanks. Good girl. I'll get them later."

He hung a bell from each of my horns to wake him up if I stirred, and I drifted off.

.

~ ~ ~

.

I woke up to see the Prince sitting the same way as when I woken up in the night and seen him; sitting next to me, leaning against his bedpost, asleep.

The sun hadn't risen yet. "Wake up," I hissed.

"What?" he yawned.

"Untie me."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Master."

"Alright." He began to undo my knots.

"How long was that spell supposed to last?"

"Both spells should've lasted all night. We'd be just coming out of it right now, but I recover at twice the speed, and obviously you had the moon. We'll tell them that your leash held you back until morning, when I fought you into the cage, which is were I got these bruises."

"The moon is still up. I'm a moonlight elf."

"Yeah, it's hard to tie down an invisible elf."

"No, I can heal you."

"Magic always has a cost, this cost isn't worth it."

"No, black magic has an expensive cost. Other magic doesn't, besides the ingredients."

He sat back, having finished untying me, and thought for a moment. "What would it take to heal me?"

"My blood and spit under a moon that's between half and full."

He looked uneasy. "How much blood?"

I bit my tongue as hard as I could, wincing, and stuck it out.

"Fine," he muttered.

I'd done the healing spell many times before. I licked his wounds like a dog, starting from his forehead, down his broken arm, and at his bruised shins.

I could tell he was enjoying seeing me do that. I glanced up at him and he had an eyebrow raised.

"It's not degrading, it's a spell," I hissed, my heart pounding. From excitement or anxiety, it was hard to know.

He pulled off his shirt to reveal several dents in his chest, where I'd thrown my wood chip/paper weapons at him.

I winced at the sight of it. "Sorry Master, you told me not to make weapons."

"That I did."

I bit my tongue again, and licked the tiny stabs and splinters in his chest. As my saliva dried, the wounds faded.

I finished, looking up at him. "Anywhere else?"

"You stuck a wood chip in my cock," he said dryly.

"Sorry," I apologized, and undid his pants. If he wasn't wincing in pain, it could have been pretty hot.

Pulling his cock out, I bit my tongue once more, tasting the metallic purple liquid.

At least it was a small cut. A deep cut, but a small one.

I licked it gently, sure to get enough blood and spit on it and let it dry in the moon. I hope this doesn't hurt for long... Damn it... I'm trying to get him to fuck me and now I've gone and stabbed his cock...

"Are we even now?" I asked, opening my eyes.

"I'd say so. Now back to your cage," he said.

I nervously turned away and went back to my bed. "Better?" I asked quietly.

"Much." He stretched his arm, no longer broken. "Still sore, though."

I looked back to him. "It only sped the healing up by a few months. You shouldn't strain your arm, it's still fractured."

"Thanks," he said with a nod.

"No problem, Master," I replied, still feeling shaky.

"You alright?" he asked, noticing I was trembling.

"Yeah, yeah," I said quietly, and lay down in my bed, watching the light fade from moonbeams to the orange glow of a sunrise.

The Prince smirked, knowing it was because I regretted harming the cock I'd come to worship, and went to change his clothes.

When he reappeared, he threw me an exact copy of my white dress. I reached through the bars to retrieve it, realizing the dress I'd been wearing had his blood on it.

I took my dress off, only to realize that my undergarments were stained as well.

I looked at him expectantly.

"I guess you have to go without them," he said simply, crossing his arms. "Serves you right for throwing a wood chip into my dick."

I opened my mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Spells don't create new abilities or urges, they simply enhance the ones you have. Apparently, somewhere in my mind, I had the urge to stab his penis with a wood chip.

I pulled my undergarments off, and was considering making it sexy when I remembered that for another few hours, it would hurt for him to get aroused.

My face reddening, I slipped the dress on and wrapped myself in a blanket, seeing that the dress was far too thin to properly hide my breasts. My hard nipples stuck out through the fabric.

There was a knock on the door.

The Prince quickly grabbed my bloody undergarments and dress, throwing them into a trunk against the wall. "Come in!" he yelled, loud and clear.

It was a guard. He opened the door cautiously, having not believed his ears, and saw the Prince glaring at him, arms crossed. His jaw dropped. "Er...good morning, your majesty."

"And good morning to you too. Thank the King for bringing me to my chambers, please, I must've drifted off in the meeting of attendants. And where's breakfast?"

"I'll get that for you right away sir," the guard said, bowing and sweating bullets. He left the room and hurried off.

The Prince sighed and sat down on his bed.

"They're going to kill you eventually," I said quietly.

The Prince sighed, and silently, thoughtfully, began adjusting his coat in the mirror.

.

~ ~ ~

.

"I'd like to formally apologize for falling asleep at the meeting," the Prince said to the King in the throne room, grinning. "And guard, fetch me the royal architect. My elf's cage needs a new lock. This morning, I woke up to find her contained by nothing but a leather leash tied to a bar. I could've been killed. In all honesty, he ought to be executed."

The lower ranked attendants gasped at the news, while the higher, knowledgeable ranks exchanged nervous and confused glances.

"Very well," the King said. "We will speak with the architect."

I felt exposed, standing in the throne room in front of so many people with a dress that did nothing to hide my shape. I kept my arms crossed up high, which hid my nipples, but I couldn't do anything about the rest.

"Why is the elf not wearing decent clothing?" the King asked.

"Humiliation. Punishment for breaking out of her cage," the Prince replied. I shrank behind him.

"You might as well parade her around naked," the King said flatly, boring holes into me with anger that I'd failed to kill his son.

"No one wants to see that," the Prince retorted.

"I do," the King replied.

There was a pause.

The court of administers exchanged glances, wondering if the Prince would obey. No matter the oddity of the request, no one dared defy him.

The Prince looked down at me. "Whipping or humiliation?" he whispered.