I’m a Hostage Princess, But My Confinement Is Way Too Cozy - Chapter 47

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.

“Ghk, hhh…”

“You are being punished, so you must suffer.”

Like a god delivering a harsh sentence, the sharp jut of his hip bone came down sharply on the upper part of my b******s. Two c***s drove in deeply and heavily, filling both holes completely, leaving no gap. It was maddeningly good. So good that I could never go back to a time before I knew this feeling.

But my face was contorted like someone crushed by pain, my facial muscles contracting uncontrollably from pleasure that had surpassed all limits. Zeke pressed the back of my head down with his large hand and drove into me relentlessly. Thump, thump, thump, thump—the two c***s repeatedly buried themselves to the very depths of my walls before pulling back almost to the entrance. Water leaked from both holes like broken faucets, and cramps seized and released the muscles in my thighs over and over.

“Ugh, ah, ah, haahk!”

The sensation of being filled by those two iron-hot, rigid c***s, driving into holes sensitized to their limit, was indescribably ecstatic. It was like having a club brutally pounding against mucosa already swollen with arousal. Climaxes came one after another, without a moment’s respite. I broke down into sobs, shattered by the violent pleasure.

But Zeke, like a guard silently carrying out a sentence, showed no mercy for my condition and continued the long punishment. His relentless thrusts continued as if intent on turning my already mushy c**t and a*s into complete pulp. It was my lower belly being crushed, yet it felt like my brain was being mangled.

The mark of the curse slammed into my inner walls, thud, thud, thud, driving me to the absolute edge. Maintaining any semblance of sanity became impossible. The inside of my eyelids flashed white, and a sensation of utter collapse, as if hurtling towards the ground, washed over me.

I have no idea when the second punishment ended.

I lost consciousness, and when I opened my eyes again, a crimson sunset was pouring through the window.

Thump, thump, thump. The relentless, pile-driving noise assaulted my ears without fail. With my back against the bed, Zeke had hoisted my hips and was ruthlessly driving into me. On his shaft, where pubic hair should have been, was etched the black crescent moon symbol of Kinamun. A mark of the curse, no doubt.

With every brutal thrust, my lower belly swelled into a grotesque, c**k-shaped bulge before receding, over and over. S***n, forced out from my entrance, streamed down my stomach and pooled in the hollow of my trembling lower chest. I had thought the sticky feeling inside my b*****s was from sweat, but it seemed it was for another reason entirely.

“Oooh, hhuu…”

The sensations from both holes were so overwhelmingly intense that I didn’t even have the presence of mind to wish he’d touch my n*****s. The thought, I wonder if real b****t milk would come out? merely flickered through my mind and was gone.

***

The soft sound of Sylvia’s breathing as she slept brushed against Zeke’s ear. Her slender, feminine form had long since collapsed, exhausted from their fierce lovemaking.

‘What am I to do with this woman…’

He pulled her platinum hair, more radiant than any jewel, toward him and drank in its intensely sweet scent. Finally, he buried his nose in the nape of her neck and took a deep breath. A fragrance that made his head spin, as if he were buried in a Veridian summer flowerbed, swallowed him whole.

Memories of that unforgettable summer ten years ago came flooding back. The year his beautiful homeland was trampled by the armies of Roang. His fate, which had yearned for freedom, had plummeted into the abyss in an instant.

Zeke Leonhart was not his real name. His true name was Zieghardt Verdion. The eldest son of the King of Verdion, yet born a bastard, a tragic prince denied the title of Crown Prince.

On his eighteenth birthday, he left the royal palace of his own volition and vanished. He knew that if he stayed, a bloody war of succession would erupt. It was a wise judgment, but tragically, less than half a year after he left the capital, the Kingdom of Verdion was destroyed by the Kingdom of Roang. Sylvia’s brothers were at the vanguard.

By the time he heard the news and reached the capital, nothing but ruins remained. The king and queen, his half-brothers, had been brutally slain, while those who surrendered were taken to Roang. Desperate to save his surviving people, he led a volunteer force and advanced on Roang.

He was too young back then, too reckless, his heart too full of fire. He knew it was like an egg striking a rock, but he had no other choice. The price for his foolhardy courage was devastating. Death would have been preferable.

The Curse of Kinamun. The prince of a fallen kingdom was now saddled with two sets of g******s, destined to be defiled by the royalty and nobility of Roang.

But fortunately, the god of Verdion had not abandoned him. Spies from the Kingdom of Verdion, who had been hiding in Roang, extracted him and helped him escape.