With a snap of my fingers, the height vanished and the marble floor of her chambers returned beneath our feet. Elara fell to her knees, sobbing and gasping for air, her body still trembling from the cold of the void.
I sat on her luxurious silk divan, watching her from above with an indifference that hurt her more than any blow.
"Did you really think that once you saw what I am, I would let you go so easily, Elara?" I asked, reaching out a hand to beckon her closer.
She looked at me with misty eyes, smudged mascara, and pride in tatters. She crawled toward me, dragging her expensive royal gown across the floor, until she was at my feet. The aura of sovereignty she had flaunted in the halls of the Academy had evaporated, leaving only a woman terrified and, strangely, aroused by the absolute danger I represented.
"Master…" she whispered, and the word seemed to burn her tongue, but she repeated it. "Please… don't destroy me. I'll do anything."
"That's a very dangerous promise coming from a princess," I said, grabbing her chin to force her to look at me. "You've upset me by touching my sister, and you've tried to humiliate me in front of everyone. A 'sorry' isn't going to be enough."
I ordered her to stand up and shed that royal facade. With trembling hands, Elara began to undo the knots of her dress, slowly revealing the pale skin that hid the stigma of the forbidden arts. The contrast between her voluptuous body, worthy of a goddess of fertility, and the black mark on her thigh created an image of corrupt beauty that I found fascinating.
"From today on," I declared, as she stood exposed before me, trembling under my gaze, "you are no longer the Princess of Demor in this room. You are my toy, my informant, and, above all, my bitch. You will learn to move according to my mood and to moan according to my will."
I stepped closer to her, feeling the heat radiating from her body despite her fear. I grabbed her by the hair, throwing her head back so she could see the absolute darkness in my eyes.
"I will teach you what true power is, Elara. And I assure you that, by the time I'm done with you, you won't remember what it feels like to be anything other than mine."
She let out a broken moan, a mixture of terror and a sense of submission that was beginning to blossom within her. In that moment, the Princess of Demor ceased to exist, and something far more useful to me was born.
I threw her onto the silk bed without the slightest delicacy, like someone tossing aside an object that no longer interests them but must still be used. Elara bounced against the royal pillows, her ragged breathing filling the silence of the room while her blue eyes, once brimming with arrogance, now begged for a mercy I had no intention of granting.
"Don't be mistaken, Elara," I said, calmly unfastening my belt. "There isn't a shred of affection in this. You're here because you dared to touch what is mine, and now you'll pay the price with every inch of your body."
I forced her onto all fours, grabbing her blonde hair with a strength that made her let out a scream of pain. The contrast of her pale skin and generous curves against the dark sheets was the perfect image of a fall from grace.
"Master… please," she stammered, but her voice broke as she felt my hand tighten around her neck.
"Silence. A bitch doesn't speak unless she's told to," I declared.
Without further ado, I grabbed her by the waist and thrust into her with brutal force, claiming her insides with the same violence a conqueror uses to claim an enemy city. Elara let out a scream that ended in a muffled moan against the pillows. There were no preliminaries, no tenderness; only the constant, merciless rhythm of my punishment.
I could feel her body trembling beneath mine, torn between the pain of the invasion and the forbidden pleasure of being subdued by someone infinitely superior. Every time she tried to move to relieve the pressure, my hands pinned her down even tighter, reminding her who held absolute control over her breath and her pleasure.
"Look at yourself, Princess of Demor," I whispered in her ear, as my thrusts grew more erratic and powerful. "So haughty in the hallways, and now moaning like an animal beneath the 'useless' one of the Varkas. Where is your pride now?"
She couldn't respond; she could only utter guttural sounds of utter surrender. Her mind was collapsing under the pressure of my aura and the physical punishment I was inflicting on her. I pushed her to her limit again and again, ignoring her tears and focusing solely on breaking what little willpower she had left.
When I finally unleashed all my contempt inside her, Elara collapsed onto the bed, broken, sweaty, and staring blankly at the ceiling. She was no longer a princess; she was an empty shell awaiting my next command.
I stood up and smoothed out my clothes without even looking at her, as if I had just finished a mundane task.