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Introduction:

A fantasy with a hint of truth, if this aint your thing then look at the tags before reading.

A fantasy with a hint of truth, if this aint your thing then look at the tags before reading. That’s why they’re there.

When I was young, I’m pretty sure I was in love with my cousin. We grew up on the same street and were inseparable. We’d always play Princess and Prince and I’d have to save her from one of the other neighbor kids who were the “bad guys”. But no matter how much they begged, the game was always set. I was her Prince. 


She truly was a childhood depiction of a princess too. Willowy body, long tousled chestnut hair that had shocks of blonde from the sun exclusively in the summer time. Her lips were full and wide, curving at the edges to give her face a kind look even when she was upset. Eyes a vibrant dark jade that I had to pull myself away from before I looked too long. 



At first she was all frills. A princess in her truest form. Puffy dresses and crowns set plastic jewels, but as we grew older her dresses grew more tight, her breasts a bit more budding. Soon the neighbor boys weren’t just pretending to capture her, it became a game of gray areas and fuzzy boundaries. The boys would tie her up, we’d sword fight, and she’d be freed. But eventually the sword fights got harder, and the knots in her bindings grew harder to untie. 


By ten we were all too old for the game but nobody had told us to stop playing it, so none of us did. Our Princess however was not always interested in playing, but what Princess is suppose to want to be captured? It was her unwillingness that we relied on to suspend our disbelief, to make the game fun. We’d be drawing with chalk in her drive way, and they’d ride up on their bikes.

“Wanna play the game?” They’d ask.
“Not today.” She’d say, kind but a bit pleading. 
I drew my wooden sword and we’d mock battle, me pretending to lose, and they’d push her down, or take her chalk then pull her away while she yelled,


 “stoppppp, I don’t want to play this right now!”



a long time ago they learned it was best to have a bandana on hand or some duck tape. The last thing we needed was for her to get parents involved that didn’t understand the game. 
I’d give them a head start, pretending to summon a dragon or to heal myself before the big battle and then I’d have to track them through the woods behind our houses to find where they hid her.


This time I was impressed. they’re bikes were parked at the edge of the forest but their tracks went in all directions. It took me a lot longer than normal to find them, and it was only do to her yell that I did at all.

They had a make-shift fort from nailed together dry wood and sheet metal. She was gagged this time with what looked like both duck tape and the bandana. Her hair flowed down past her waist but it looked a bit mussed from the struggle and her dress was slightly torn. She was on the ground on her knees with her arms tied to her sides in a coil of rope and her eyes looked puffy from tears.



“Did you hurt her?” I asked, suddenly upset.


The oldest boy was in front, sword in hand.



“She bit me. So I pushed her. She’s fine. Since when do Princesses bite?”



I pulled out my sword. Ready to fight and win.



“Let’s change the rules” the boy said. “Just this once.”



“The game’s rules don’t change. that’s one of the rules.” I say, impatient for battle.



“Unless we all agree. If you win, like normal. You take her. If you lose, she stays for a little bit. 
You can stay too, but you have to pretend the whole time to be a bad guy. No cheating.”

I had never lost.



“Sure, whatever. Let’s fight.”



He came at me hard.

The first hit against my sword made my hand numb and when he tripped me I knew it was over.

After a few more hits with the sword I forfeited.



“I cave! I cave!"



The older boy sneered.



“Good. welcome to the bad guys’ side.

”
***

One of the boys pushed her and she fell over. a muffled yell in the gag. I started forward and a hand pushed against my chest.



“You’re a bad guy remember. Just pretend. This is what bad guys do. They have to do what they want and Princesses KNOW that. She’s just doing what she’s suppose to do. Otherwise she wouldn’t be a very good Princess. Don’t you think she’s a good one?”


She was the BEST Princess. She gave squeals and muffled cries at all the right moments. One boy poked her with the end of his wooden sword and she jerked away.

The oldest boy jumped on top of a tree stump. 




“Bad guys also gamble! Let’s guess what color her underwear is! The winner gets to take them off!”

Her dark green eyes grew wide and she struggled like a caterpillar on a leaf. Her bindings pressed her perky young breasts the the edge of her gown, they looked so squeezable… what was I thinking? Or was this me pretending… The boys went around guessing.


“White!”


“Polkadot!”


“Purple!”


Before I even realized it I shouted


“Pink!”



he other boys looked up at surprise. I didn’t look at the Princess. Because we both knew her all time favorite color was pink.
The older boy tipped his sword below the skirts of her dress and lifted for us all to see. Her long white socks raked up to her knees, leading to lean thighs and a tight round ass, which was of course protected by light pink panties. 


“He wins!”


They all high fives me, patted my shoulders, and applauded me, nudging me forward. The princesses was faced away from me, long hair splayed across her face anyway. Suddenly I was behind her, crouching down on hands and knees. My body reacting as her body went rigid at my touch. The elastic slid down with ease. Her smooth, soft skin revealing itself as I slid the pink fabric down. I stopped them at her ankles and felt my dick start to prick in excitement. Not knowing what to do I looked up at the older boy who towered above me.


“Well, how’s it look man? Worth seeing?”


I nodded, still struck by her beauty. 



“Then lets all take a look see!”

As he said it he pulled on her leg and dragged the skirts of her dress up. A smothered scream erupted from her but they were all louder. WE were all louder. It took moments for us to be bored with us looking and we excitedly started spanking her with the blunt side of our swords. My own slap leaving a small welt on her right cheek. She wriggled in her bindings but by this point I didn’t care. I was a bad guy, and what I wanted was her. I loved her and the part she played.


“Tie her to the front of the fort!”

The order didn’t come from the older boy. It came from me. I wanted to see her, touch her, display our bounty. It took minutes to unbind and rebind her to the fort. I held her waist and chest while she struggled, her body soft in some places and firm in others. The rope bound her wrists and hung her stretched as the rope was pulled taut over the roof top. She dangled at the entrance as a prize. Underwear still at her ankles, a pink flag of defeat.

Ripping at her dress became a game. Who could rip the longest piece. If she kicked you, you were out. It took 20 minutes for her breasts to to be exposed, most of the boys being kicked out, but slapping her due to their missed opportunity. The final tug on her dress ripped all traces of curiosities away. 


Our Princess stood dangling naked, beautiful lithe body pink with bruises and weeping. The small curves of her body were tantalizing, her hip bones beckoning like the handles on a bike, only the lightest, softest beginnings of hair graced her the V of her pussy. 


“Hold on,” I yelled. “I’ll be right back!” I ran to our backpacks at the edge of the woods. Grabbing her jeweled tiara and raced back, placing the dainty thing upon her head. 
“Now, she’s perfect.”


***

It took about an hour and lunch for one of us to get up the courage. We sat, war paint on our faces, back packs with sandwiches and snacks in hand as we wrested, sword played, and made dirty jokes. All the while our Princess a beacon of our manliness. 


“I did too kissed a girl once!” said one boy

.

“Yeah right! Mom’s don’t count!”



“Or sisters!” another chimed in.



“My sister counts!”



They laughed.



The oldest boy spoke up.

“I’ve fucked a girl.”



Eye brows rose.



“There’s no way you have!”



“He might have, he’s a teenager.”



“Prove it.”



“How the hell am I suppose to prove it?”



They bickered back and fourth, all jeering the older boy. 



“Fine. I’ll prove it right now.”

He stood from where he had sat on the stump and pointed down at it.


“Lay the Princess down. I’ll show you how it’s done.”



Silence fell. Just for a moment. Then we pulled her down. 


She had wriggled and struggled before. Now, as she was carried and displayed on the big tree stump she fought. Fought harder than any Princess in any fairy tale I had ever read. 
She kicked, and jerked and twisted. We ended up all having to hold her down in a group effort.
I pulled at one of her legs, and instructed the boy opposite me.



“You can pull further back, she’s been able to do the splits since she was five.”



“Mmmuuuh!”



Her screams through the gag were so loud I nervously looked around. 



“Nobody will hear her. Everybody is still at work anyway.”



I nodded at the older boy as he talked, excitement matching her fear and he unbuttoned his shorts. 

His dick was a decent size, and next to her small body, I didn’t understand how it would fit.


“Watch and learn boys.”

He spit on his dick and then pressed it up agains her. Her jerks turned to spasms as he slowly entered her. Her back arched, pink tits pointed to the sky in the most erotic moment I ever had or would see. Green eyes disappeared as they rolled back before her eye lids squeezed shut in pain. Her moaning scream pierced our ears and I wished they were for me.
He pressed inside her to his balls and started to pull out. The movement looking dry and forced. Slamming back into her jilted her body and her scream was cut off by an intake of breath through her nose before another scream started. He began to pump, sliding in and out of her in at first jerk like movements then a steadier rhythm. Sweat beaded at her neck and hair line, and tendrils of hair stuck to her skin. 



The boys, myself included roared and jeered as he kept going. Then he himself spasmed and released himself inside her. Pulling out was a sticky residue I knew well from my own jacking off routine.



After a long breath, he backed away, buttoning his shorts back up. Before I knew it I had dropped her leg. She didn’t move it, and as I unzipped my fly the others stood back, her body quivering but in shock. Too in shock to fight back. 


I was hard, I spit like I’d seen the other boy and I found her opening gape. I was surprised at the tightness. I had a smoother entry from the other boy’s cum but I still found myself bracing my hands against those lovely hip bones, her tear streaked eyes met mind as I made my first thrust and I watched her break.



I pumped into her and the feeling was intoxicating. My whole body felt it, open nerves thumbing with every pulse into her. She quivered beneath me and her tits rocked with my motion. 


“Take the gag off.”

I grunted

They began to protest, but I wasn’t having it. I wanted to see her lips as I came.



“Take it off!”



Swollen but beautiful rosy lips were revealed to me, a silent cry escaping them as I ached into her one last time.

A tremor of pleasure rushed through me, and my cock shivered as I erupted into her, hot sticky goo filling her and spilling out onto the tree stump. 
I pulled out. her body resisting my exit.

None of the other boys had the nerve. Unsure of what to do, we untied her and left her there on the stump. She stayed still.

As we all parted ways the older boy came up to me and slapped me on the back.



“hey, you make a pretty good bad guy.”



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