I’m a Hostage Princess, But My Confinement Is Way Too Cozy - Chapter 27

Volumes 1 & 2 of HPCWTC are available uncensored on ko-fi! ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

He gripped my bent knees tightly and settled between my thighs. His eyes curved sinisterly.

“Relax.”

That was the final warning.

Squelch. The silver beads entered as if tearing through the opening, stretching the vaginal passage to its limit. The shocking sensation choked off any scream, as if my throat were being strangled. Like a person impaled through the heart, I could only open my mouth wide and fully receive the unfamiliar pleasure.

Depending on the position of the beads, the vaginal folds stretched and then tightened, causing the vaginal walls to churn chaotically. Their elasticity was the problem; they clenched down so tightly, as if trying to sever even the thin tip of his c**k. As the contractions and relaxations were forcibly repeated by the beads, a pleasure akin to being wrung out arose inside. It felt as if my pleasure centers were being manipulated by just a few beads.

As I stiffened my body like a rigor-mortised animal, barely managing shallow breaths, he lowered his lips to various parts of my body to ease my tension. Everywhere but my lips. Even while consuming me, he had never once kissed me on the mouth. As if a kiss were sacred ground.

His lips, which had been nuzzling my jaw, traveled up my cheek and reached the right corner of my mouth. Sure enough, his kiss stopped there. His heavy, sinking breath tickled my philtrum.

“Princess, breathe.”

“Hoo…”

“Relax your strength.”

As if by magic, my body went limp at his command. My body was far too obedient to the male leads. As my limbs slackened and fell loose, a gap formed in the hole that had been tightly gripping his c**k. Seizing the opportunity, he shoved the bead-studded length all the way to the root in one swift motion. Squelch! A sound like a fist hitting water reached my ears.

“Ugh!”

My vision swam as a fierce wave of pleasure crashed over me. He pushed his shaft all the way to my cervix and began grinding his hips in a deep, warm circle. Inside my p***y, the beads rolled and turned, randomly stimulating every sensitive spot. Even his gentle shaking was too much stimulation, making it hard to breathe. But my pleas were of no concern to the devout pervert.

“Ha, a body steeped in lust… truly… is beyond help,” he muttered between thrusts.

Pulling out until the beads caught on my inner walls, he then slammed back in to the hilt. Each time the beads scraped against my mucous membranes, my vaginal walls screamed, drooling copiously. Squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch! My wet p***y was being mercilessly pounded. It felt like being beaten on the inside with a knobby club. My hips felt weightless, and my eyes kept rolling back into my head. If this kept up, I’d be a mindless wreck soon enough.

The one small mercy was that I wasn’t screaming shrilly. Or more accurately, I couldn’t even muster a moan. Gasping for short, ragged breaths like a sick animal was the best I could do. Even that was a struggle.

Unending tremors wracked my entire body. Pleasure that surpassed my threshold assaulted me relentlessly. The last shreds of my consciousness snapped clean off along with the final, shattering climax.

***

Swooosh—

On the borderlands between the Kingdom of Roang and the Valencha Empire. A bloody wind swept across the desolate plain, where not a single blade of grass grew.

Kallist wiped the blood from his sword onto an enemy soldier’s hair and rolled the severed head across the ground. A wyvern, as if waiting, snapped it up and swallowed it whole.

Kallist clicked his tongue as he brushed back his blood-soaked hair. The subjugation of the Roang remnants, disguised as bandits, was proceeding smoothly, yet an uneasy feeling gnawed at him.

“Why does this feel so f*****g shitty?”

It was the feeling of missing something important. An emotion he, who had lived his entire life without regrets, had never experienced before.

It wasn’t just the thirst from not being able to stick his c**k in a c**t. Sure, the fact that seeing blood didn’t satiate his desire was irritating, but this was different.

One thing was clear, though. This unsettling feeling originated from the Princess of Roang.

“Five days have already passed…”

Five days was far too long to leave that slutty b***h alone. Even locked away in a remote castle, that potent scent of hers was enough to attract men from afar.

And—.

‘Zeke Leonhart.’

He thought of the emperor’s dog guarding Sylvia’s bedroom door, his bloodshot eyes flashing.

To think that lowborn scum, some mercenary who crawled out of nowhere, had to be by her side. Before departing for the campaign, he had seriously considered killing him, but even if he did, another man would just become Sylvia’s guard. Any bastard with a d**k would go into heat around the Princess of Roang, so the result would be the same anyway.

Sylvia’s face, crying and whimpering, and her swaying b*****s flickered before his eyes. Imagining her getting f****d by another man like that made his forehead burn hot, feeling as if every blood vessel in his head was about to burst.

Kraang! Unable to contain his rage, he slammed his sword into the hard, sandy ground. His frightened aides trembled as they asked.

“Y-Your Highness! Is there a problem?”

“Nothing.”

It’s just that this f*****g feeling wouldn’t go away, no matter what he did.

He usually trusted his beast-like intuition. Especially when it came to shitty predictions, they were never wrong. But unlike usual, he was actively denying his gut feeling.

The b***h from Roang wouldn’t have spread her legs for another man; she would be waiting meekly for him, carrying his seed in her womb. Thinking that made him feel gradually better. His innate arrogance and self-importance fueled this positive thinking. It was justified. He was the Crown Prince of the Valencha Empire, who had never had his possessions taken from him by another.

‘I need to get her pregnant quickly.’

Once he returned, he would fill her with so much seed it would stuff her womb for a month. Enough that any woman would have no choice but to conceive a child. Once she had his child, Sylvia would be his. A woman carrying the Crown Prince’s first child—even the Emperor wouldn’t be able to keep her locked away in a remote castle.

‘I’ll have to bring her to my bedroom.’

The Princess of Roang would be better off confined in his warm bedroom than in a cold castle. Once he had that b***h in his bedroom, he’d shackle her so she couldn’t take a single step outside. She would warm his bed as a living doll. Until he grew tired of her.

Imagining Sylvia lying in his bed, stroking her swollen belly, made his already e***t c**k harden to the point of pain. For the past five days, his d**k, having lost its home, had been in this state constantly.

In his imagination, he alternated between stroking Sylvia’s swollen belly and thrusting into her, sucking on her b*****s leaking with milk and plunging into her v***a. It didn’t seem like a bad life, doing just that forever. F*****g an arousing b***h until he was tired and making her bear his child. The child born between him and Sylvia would be gentle in both appearance and personality, unlike himself. Just like his younger brother, Albert.

“Ha.”

A hollow laugh escaped Kallist’s lips as his thoughts reached that point. Overlapping the image of a princess from a fallen kingdom with the imperial heir—even he found it ridiculous. The only thing those two had in common was…

Those damn docile eyes.

Kallist grit his molars. He didn’t even dare to guess the nature of the emotion beginning to bloom in his heart.