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Fifteen Minutes of Obedience
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 18:00:04 +0000 UTC[Characters:]
— Princess Celia — radiant, commanding, with a delicate crown on her head.
— Edric — her loyal servant, large-framed, quiet, and secretly burning with desire for her.
Setting: The royal bedroom. Golden sunlight drips through the curtains. The doors are slightly ajar. Footsteps echo faintly from the bathing chamber down the hall.
(Fingers glide down fabric… the only sound is breath — unsteady, hungry.)
Celia (kneeling before her servant):
— You said we have fifteen minutes, Edric.
(tracing his lower belly with her fingers)
— So don’t waste them. I’m a princess, not a patient woman.
Edric (glancing at the half-open doors):
— Your Highness… if someone sees— if the prince—
Celia (smirking):
— He’s always slow. You know that.
(a soft kiss just below the waist)
— And you… you’ve always been more of a man than he’ll ever be.
(a sudden hush, then the wet sound of her lips, soft moans — mmph… slrp… ahh…)
Edric (gritting his teeth, trembling):
— M-my lady… your mouth… I-I wasn’t prepared—
Celia (looking up, voice breathy):
— That’s the point, Edric. You never are.
(she pulls back, wiping the edge of her lips, cheeks flushed)
Celia (commanding):
— Get up.
— You’ve tasted power. Now take it. While you still can.
(He lifts her, backs her to the wall, hesitating — desire cracking through restraint.)
Edric (voice rough):
— You shouldn’t want this… not with someone like me…
Celia (with a heated whisper):
— That’s why it feels so good…
(He enters her — no hesitation now. Her breath catches.)
Celia (sharply):
— Nnghh… you’re… gods, you’re so thick…
(Wet, rhythmic sounds echo in the chamber — plp… slrp… ahh… — her voice unsteady, hips trembling.)
Edric (trying to control himself):
— You feel too good…
— Your body’s pulling me in… I can’t—
Celia (between gasps):
— Don’t stop… even if someone hears…
— Let them know who truly satisfies their princess…
(In the distance, water shifts. The prince is finishing his bath. His steps draw closer in the corridor.)
Edric (gasping):
— I’m close… I-I’m sorry…
Celia (suddenly alarmed):
— Wait— not inside—!
(But he’s already there. He thrusts once, twice — groans low — and pulls away. She’s left panting, heart racing.)
Celia (breathless, stunned):
— H-he… did he just—?
(She lowers herself slowly, spreading her legs with care, flushed from heat and disbelief.)
Celia (in a daze):
— It’s… still warm… gods, it’s too much…
(Thick, wet warmth trickles down her inner thighs — milky, slow, and heavy. Drop by drop — drip… drip… — it stains the polished stone beneath her.)
Celia (softly, a smile curling at her lips):
— He didn’t ask… and I didn’t stop him…
(Footsteps approach. She straightens her crown. Her lips still tremble. Her gaze — distant, burning.)
