She stared in to her reflection in the mirror and felt the first tears threatening to fall. That would be all that it took to send her back there, back to that time, back to helplessness. She shuddered and mustered her will, thinking to herself, 'He saved you, he wants to see you strong. You are the ruler of this land the people need to see you strong.' That thought repeated like a mantra worked. For maybe a minute until she heard the heavy footsteps of the guard outside. That little sense trigger was enough. Suddenly she was not in her room anymore. She was back ... there.
Her light, homey door carved with murals of her family and the myths of the kingdom was gone. In its place was a heavy slab of wood, the only adornment iron bars worked in to its construction. Reinforcing it. Not that it needed it, she could batter against that solid wood all day every day and barely scratch the veneer. Not like the cell had any furnishing. Her bed, in the room she is truly in is a massive thing. Big enough to comfortably rest an entire family or two of her subjects. Coated in the finest silks. But in her minds eye she sees but the barest mattress shoved in a corner. In reality she is in a room lit by the sun from massive windows that take up almost an entire wall. Leading to a balcony from which she can revel in the splendor of her kingdoms natural beauty. But she is not there. In her mind she is back in the dungeon. The only light coming from a slit in the wall about fifteen feet up, and torch in the same place. No way she can reach either of those, now matter how she jumps.
As she is transported back to that room of terror the soft steps of her guard take on a sinister metallic clank. The rustling noise of those awful studded bracelets he wore. The only clothing he ever donned. Every time that massive door swung open she had the fear that he was going to shove those things up inside her. And why not, since he had unleashed every other depravity upon her. No reason ever given, no words ever spoken. Just at least once a day that massive door, so heavy that she could not swing it herself would moan open. Sounding like a damned soul wailing its lament. And reveal her personal demon.
She never knew who he was, only later did she learn his name from her rescuer. Then, to her he was merely a demon. Some demented cross between a turtle and a dragon. All massive girth, nearly three times her size, and terrifying spikes. Bursts of fire from his mouth, as if the sharp teeth which looked like barely shrunk down version of her royal guards sabers where not enough. Somehow, the first time she saw him she had muster up enough of her courage and bearing to speak to him as the princess she was. Demanding her freedom and an explanation. There was none coming. Merely a backhand from a clawed fist nearly as large as her head.
Oh, and if that was all that happened she would have been grateful. The blow was so hard it had seemed that her eyes had stopped working. Reporting nothing but a massive green blur. Ears though, those worked. She heard the tearing of her dress. Ripped in two and flung from her. Heavy breathing, high and excited with a tinge of mocking laughter. Ye goddesses, she will hear that laughter as she goes to sleep every night for the rest of her life.
When all of her senses came back in to focus she was on the mattress, pressed back. Wearing nothing but her crown which had somehow magically staid on her head and her long gloves that went past her elbows. Legs already aching from being stretch around a massive hard body. All her eyes reported was a wall of green. The monsters' chest. When she turned away so as not to look at it, and definitely not wanting to look on that monstrous face she saw the hand. Green and scaly tipped with massive claws beside her head. The claws went through the mattress with ease. All she could think was how easily they would go through her flesh as well. Terror made her breathing come quickly. Hyperventilating in desperation. She would have given anything for a star. Sure that was the only way she would survive what was to come.
A terrible pressure on her sex, as it is ripped and torn to accommodate a member that was larger than her arm. Thick. As she looked at the claws and remembered the spikes on his back all she could think was to offer a small prayer of thanks that it was not barbed or as sharp as the rest of him. as her body tore and admitted him in, her screams giving out from a lack of air and simply too much pain the monster started to let out roars. Roars that came hard and fast. Like grunts. Each one striking the more primitive lobes of her brain. The parts of her brain that remember what it is to be a prey species, to be hunted. Fear, deeper and more primal than anything she had ever felt runs through her.
The terrible ripping penetration stops, as he has gotten as much of himself in her that is physically possible. If she could muster the courage to look she would see a ruin of blood between her legs, a swelling of her abdomen to let in as much of his girth as possible. and the greatest horror of all, that only about half of its length was inside her. it would have killed her from fear to know how much more she could have endured.
If there was one good thing, it was that the sheer pain of it numbed her. She had no earthly idea how long the beast worked between her legs. when his hand transferred from the mattress to her breast, the points of claws penetrating the skin she was too lost to notice it. When his roaring breath was focused on her, so hot that it scorched her face and set her hair alight she did not notice. None of the true horrors of her rape were noted as more than brief flashes. Sparks that will come to her every now and again. all she can remember is the excruciating pain between her legs. The motion, somehow feeling every scale of his cock as it slid in and out of her. She knew her jaw hurt, ached from being so wide for so long in her scream. Her chest burned from never quite breathing in before howling again. And through it all that same horrible roaring grunt. Lust. Lust to rape her body and a barely suppressed desire to eat her body.
It felt like hours. It felt like seconds. Until that rush of fluids filled her. Cold, ice cold. Hitting and mixing with her own blood to make an almost cool sensation on her thighs. Her monstrous captor gave his evil chuckle again, and she was sure she was to die. Until she felt something drop in her mouth. That same massive hand clamping on her mouth. Eyes noting that once white claws are tinged pink with her own blood. The hand making her chew and swallow whatever it was. As her wounds repaired herself she knew, a mushroom. And perhaps the greatest terror she had ever felt hit her. As long as it had those, it could do this as often to her as he wanted. And she would not even have the sweet release of death to look to.
And that was how it went. For at least three months, until one time the door croaked open and a man she had never seen before was there. He said he had slain the beast and rescued her. Rescued, she thought with a snort.
With that memory she is back in her room. The light is back. The door is once more a work of art and not fear. She calms herself, stroking the jewel at her throat. It is not until her door is kicked violently from its hinges, almost striking her on its way completely across the room that she realizes one of her memories was not a memory. The clank of his bracelets. Whirling in horror to face the door, her monster is back, features that are alien and reptilian somehow controted in a smile. for the first time it speaks, "Hello my succulent little Peach."