The Princess and The Pirate

Jacqueline was leaning forward, trying to push the Regent back as his hand aggressively slid up between her legs, pushing the material of her filthy wedding dress up near her hips. She tried to tighten her knees against his forearm, shouting in protest, grabbing at his face and his arm, in tears. They were sobs of horror, begging him not to touch her.

The Princess wept, having no other emotional outlet other than her eyes, but the shouting did very little. Eustace had a detached, far-off look. He couldn’t hear her.

“S-stop!” Jacqueline dug her nails into his skin, trying to grab fistfuls of whatever she could, feeling his fingertips brushing the material of her panties. Pain, didn’t seem to curb the old man’s perversions. “I…I’m s-sorry for lying!” she cried as tears, mud, and grass stuck to her face and hair. “I w-was just trying to h-hurt you!” Jacqueline pleaded loudly enough so that even the dead could hear her.

With a grin, he forced his arm further, feeling the Princess’s warmth against the palm of his old hand. The Regent ran his fingers against the seams of her undergarment, feeling both the soft, folded barrier and the firm, hot perimeter of her thighs.

“I will have you fat with my sons before the week is over.” Eustace could feel the skin of her inner legs shake, tensing, trying to recoil from the debauched onslaught.

She slid her hips back desperately, indenting the wet, pliable ground like the hooves of a stubborn horse. “N-never. I‘ll never have your children!” Fighting on all fronts, she wildly swung the back of her hand right into the Regent’s face.

The Regent chased her sweet prize, regardless of the strike. He even seemed to forget it!

He slid forward on his knees, trying to dig deeper into his future wife. “Oh yes, we’ll have a whole royal brood.” It proved to be one advance too much. Jacqueline slid away again and the ledge of her grave gave way, sending the Princess tumbling down.

Hitting the floor of the deep, wet hole knocked the wind straight from the Princess’s lungs. “I w-will,” Jacqueline took in a deep breath, “never have your children.” Rolling over in the mud with a tremendous effort, she looked up at him, “I-I will strangle them with their birth cords. I will smother them in their cribs. I-I will cut them down!”

Gazing down, seemingly unconcerned, Eustace leaned cautiously on the edge, almost impressed with her threat.

“Not one of them will live to see adulthood,” Jacqueline gripped the mud, a worm sliding free of her fist. Between the aches and cracking from her ribs, the Princess breathed deeply again. “They’ll be cursed. I will curse them all!”

It must have been at least seven feet down. He had dug this pit weeks ago, needing a hobby between girls. Eustace smiled and stood up. He fished something out of his pocket and flung it down the hole. “Really, Princess? What mother could damn her own children?” He wholeheartedly didn’t believe her but admired the tenacity at which she hated him. “Maybe you will despise the first one, but not the seventh, or the tenth, or even the fifteenth!”

The strap smacked the Princess across her face.

“I’ll come get you and if you’re not wearing it, I’ll leave you here until you are.” And Eustace left, only the warm yellow sky staring down at her from the top of the ledge.

The Princess laid there, everything shaking and rattling inside her. Oddly enough, she was happy to be down there amongst the worms and roots but she was mostly happy to be away from him. Dazed, the Princess grabbed a chunk of the graveside, trying to pull herself up. The dirt wasn’t stable and most of it dispersed when she squeezed hard. The walls were slippery and she had a suspicion that if she dismantled the wall too much it would just collapse on top of her.

With her other hand, Jacqueline looked at what was on her face. It was a black leather strap with a silver ring in the center. It was too wide for her wrists but not narrow enough for her ankles. It looked like it could choke her quite nicely.

That was when she realized what it was. It was a collar.

In the dark, left with nothing but her thoughts, the Princess was bombarded with images of herself sporting a bulbous stomach and Eustace’s bastard seed growing inside her for the rest of her life. The Princess cringed, curling into a ball, bringing her knees to protect her empty stomach.

She didn’t want his parasite and she knew her threat was too hollow. Could she kill a child?