Ursa's wedding day had been both stressful and monumental, but it wasn't quite over yet. The brilliant lambency of the red sky faded into a deep blue as the reception came to its close, and the band finished their set with a rendition of an old folk song, the erhu playing the wavering vocal melody while a few drunken stragglers sung along. Weariness plagued Ursa's body, numb from so many hours of activity, and it weighed down her spirit, drained of sincerity as she politely accepted the congratulations of various nobles, praying that they would depart soon in spite of the fate that awaited her once they did.
Worst of all, that weariness plagued her heart, its curse intertwined with her steadily mounting apprehension. This was to be her life from here on out: feigning concern for the affairs of these warmongering royals, while wishing for no more than to return home to her modest village and compassionate lover from whom she had been so cruelly torn.
And worst of all that, the thing — the person — that most dragged her heart down into the murky depths of despair, was Ozai. Sure, Ozai was attractive — but his selfishness, his aggression — these were not traits that she desired in her now husband, she thought as she blanched at the title. His sense of entitlement and her persistent, lurking suspicions that he viewed her as naught but his property were bound to make this uncertain arranged marriage a living hell. Or…
Considering her options, she almost failed to notice when the exchange they'd been having with a trio of old nobles ended and Ozai took her by the hand. His touch sent her stomach lurching over itself in dread and discomfort, and as much as she knew she ought to steel herself for what was to come, her mind desperately attempted to detach itself from her body. He attempted to engage her in meagre conversation, but she was hardly listening as he walked her from the courtyard and into the maze of palace corridors.
The fading melody of the grandiose strings suddenly cut off entirely as Ozai shut the door to the bedroom chambers, the absence of sound jerking her attention to the reality of her situation.
Ursa's breath caught in her throat, and her apprehension threatened to rise from her lungs in a futile scream for help as burning eyes hungrily swept over her figure. She did not appreciate this one bit — when men ogled her like she was a piece of meat, she had always had the satisfaction of denying them, but not this time. Not this time.
But certainly, there had to be a way to put him in place.
"Disrobe," he commanded, of course, with a sneer, removing his own attire in a series of elegant and admittedly arousing movements.
Her defiant yet brief look of disgust earned her an advancement on his part — if she would not comply, then he would speed the process. But when those hands reached for her breasts, she ripped the sash from her robes, and in a single fluid movement, bound his wrists together.
"I don't think so," Ursa whispered into his ear. "If I have to do this, then we're doing it my way." Ozai merely gaped at the embroidered red sash, and she took his stunned silence as an opportunity to guide him into bed and get this over with. Situating herself atop him, with satisfaction she felt his cock harden and push up against her bottom.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, but he did not object, did not move to halt her.
"Whatever I'm doing, you're letting me do it," she said smugly, securing the ends of the sash to opposite bedposts.
He tugged at the restraints, succeeding only in tightening them. Ursa was an adroit woman in the ways of ropes and bondage; Ozai and his family may have assumed her to be a virgin, saving herself for marriage, but they had been dead wrong. Her seductive smirk only prompted Ozai's rod to twitch beneath her.
"Let's get this off of you," she said. "You seem very eager." She slipped from bed to shed her own garb, determinedly tossing aside the extravagant gown as if it were naught but garbage. Those smoldering eyes tracked her movements; her assertive, unbreaking stare imbued them now with apprehension. She climbed back onto those lavish crimson sheets and eased his undergarments down his hips, down his legs, exposing his cock to her for the first time. Dispassionately, she regarded it.
"Disappointing," Ursa spoke with mock disgust, although it was rather average-sized. "Somehow, I expected more." Nonetheless, she liberated herself of her own undergarments, leaving them both in the nude.
Ozai began to protest, but promptly, she lowered her arse onto his face. To no avail, he squirmed in his restraints at such a sudden, invasive act, while she merely aligned her opening with his mouth, leaning mercifully against the headboard so that he could breathe.
"Show me what you can do, whore," she taunted brazenly. She adjusted herself cruelly to drop her full weight on his head before letting up. "Maybe I'll consider rewarding you if you can please me. You're so disgusting that I bet you'd like what I have planned for you."
Beneath her, his lips parted to taste that wet slit. His tongue pushed meekly into her depths, twisting and darting experimentally. Fluid seeped from the sluice gates of yonder, but no pleasure beyond arousal did she feel at his uncertain movements.
"My God, do you even know what a clitoris is?" she scolded, rocking back and forth on his head. A pained, frustrated groan sounded from somewhere inside her pussy and vibrated up into her core. She repositioned herself so that her g-spot would be impossible for him to miss. "Now, try again, or else I'll have to punish you. Fucking filthy slut, I bet you'd like that."
Ozai obediently did as she told him. What a good little bitch, she thought as his mouth moved rhythmically against her clit and grazed the unshaven stubble above it. Who would have known that he would be this easy to tame? Minutes passed before her slowly mounting pleasure coaxed from her a moan, and her grip tightened around the two bedposts. Ragged breathing and delicious wet sounds evidenced that Ozai was giving it his all.
She leaned forward to lie across him, careful to keep her clitoris in proximity to his mouth, lest he lose it, yet paying no mind to his comfort as she crushed his face. What she was about to do was not a favor — she was going to make him suffer for it, but for now, she would allow him to think that the power balance would slide back into a more even place.
Ursa took his cock up to the root into her mouth, then backed off to suck on the tip, assessing it. Ozai's steady pleasuring of her erogenous zones slowed to a halt, as though he thought that his job was done.
Irked, she squeezed his balls, eliciting a whimper. "When did I tell you to stop, slut?" she barked. His inexperienced yet serviceable, exploratory tongue strokes returned, and she found herself releasing another contented sigh and gripping his firm, muscular ass cheeks.
When she went down on him this time, he did not stop. Good boy, she thought. Though she could easily deepthroat him, she focused her efforts around the head, sucking aggressively, yet slowly, and interjecting the occasional swipe of the tongue with utmost care for the delicate instrument. With one hand, she stroked its base, and with the other, she fondled his fragile scrotum. So floppy and a soft was a man's equipment; she could hardly believe that such dainty and tender organs were so essential to the survival of humankind. The thought of having to procreate with him sickened her, but she didn't plan for that to be a consequence of tonight's adventure. She was tempted momentarily to bite down upon that flimsy shaft, to crush in her palm his frangible sack, but surely she could have some fun with them first.
Beneath her, Ozai moaned, and his breathing grew heavier. When he stopped pleasuring her this time, she permitted it, if only to torment him with her masterful blowing. She slid that cock in and out of her mouth with an agonizing slowness, merely to relish in the noises he produced as she held him at her mercy. He had been repressing his expressions of pleasure, but shamelessly now, he called out wordless, pitiful pleas.
But Ursa was not satisfied. His body tensed, and she sensed that he was nearing his climax. Squeezing his smooth, round ass again hard enough to turn his skin white, she removed herself from the position, cruelly leaving him on the edge of an orgasm.
Beseeching eyes followed her as she climbed off of him, yet with his visage drenched her fluid, his jaw hanging open in a vacant daze, she smiled with the knowledge that she had him under her full control. "Don't you even think about complaining," she asserted. "I'll gag you if I need, but I'd much rather hear you beg me to pleasure you like the pathetic whore that you are."
He responded only with a feeble nod, spurring her to swoop in close to his face. With two fingers, she delicately lifted his chin to bring them eye-to-eye. "'Yes, Mistress,'" she prompted. "You must answer me when I speak to you, bitch."
"Yes, Mistress," he echoed, nigh choking on the words.
"Very good," she said as if she were praising an animal for learning a new trick. Viciously, she slammed her lips into his, tasting her own juices in and around his mouth. Ozai released a somewhat distressed sigh before forcing his sore and tired jaws to work with hers. The pace was not quick enough for Ursa, and she bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood before pulling away. Oh, how she relished the fear in his gaze that he so miserably failed to hide. It only made her wetter, and she tenderly dabbed away the red liquid dribbling down his chin.
"I have something special I want to try tonight," she said wickedly. "I'm sure you'll like it, seeing as you're such a revolting little whore. Isn't that right? Say it back to me." She wrapped a hand around his throat and gave it an experimental squeeze, observing with delight how his neglected cock, dripping with precum and glistening with saliva, twitched when she choked him.
"Yes, Mistress," he panted as his eyes rolled back into his head. "I'm a whore. I'm your whore!"
"Very good," she repeated. She released his neck to coax another sharp inhalation from him, and slunk around to the other side of the room to the chest in the corner. From that case, she lovingly produced her nighttime friend on whom she could rely during her loneliest times; she flopped it about and snatched up the bottle of lubricant that had lain beside it. Watching the terror and arousal flare up in his eyes as he spotted the rather large dildo she held, Ursa sensually rubbed the lube all over it as if she were giving it a handjob, all while staring him down. She set it aside on the nightstand and then began to untie him.
"Wh... What are you doing?" he protested meekly.
"Why, does my little fuck toy like being all tied up?"
"…Maybe," he squeaked out.
She smirked. "Excellent, but I need that sash. Now," she instructed as she freed his arms, "hands and knees, whore."
He clambered into position apprehensively as she firmly secured the golden dildo to her crotch with the bondage sash. Applying a touch of lube to her fingertip, she peremptorily assessed Ozai's arsehole. Oh, this would be a tight squeeze, but that was the fun of it. She lined up the sex toy with his anus and eased it inside of him.
Ozai exhaled deeply, an expression of half relief and half pleasure, but this was only the beginning — a brief adjustment period. She was going to fuck him hard.
"I'm surprised you're so tight. I would've thought that you'd let just about anyone into your cunt — you're nothing more than a human cum dumpster. But don't think I'm going to be gentle with you. You're garbage, you don't deserve mercy. The whole palace is going to hear you scream," she warned. "The whole palace is going to know that you're my little bitch."
"Yes, Mistress," he gasped just before Ursa vigorously rammed it into him. A shocked cry punctuated his heavy breathing, and grinning sadistically, Ursa invited herself deeper into his ass with her next thrust. The bed frame creaked and the mattress squealed with her every vicious attack on his virginal arsehole. He could not restrain his gasps and moans, but it was not enough for her.
"Scream for me, slut!" she commanded. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she jerked his head in her direction to look him in the eye. Caught in the daze of lust, he failed to register her demand until she buried the dildo deep inside of him with a particularly rough thrust — up to the hilt.
He howled wordlessly, the primal, pure lust of sex blocking language from his mind. As she upped her pace, she caught what sounded like her name and cries of "yes!" intermingled with his raw expression of pleasure. His hips rocked back and forth in time with hers; the little whore just couldn't get enough. She grabbed another two fistfuls of his hair like they were the reigns to the wild animal that he had become, and rode that fucker all the way to Ba Sing Se.
Meanwhile, in her periphery she caught a glimpse of movement by the entrance to the room. Ozai's older brother stood absolutely dumbfounded in the open doorway, probably having come to investigate all the noise. Still gripping a thick strand of Ozai's hair, she gave him a big thumbs up.
"Tell me you want it!" she shouted to ensure that her dominance over him was more than apparent. "Tell me you're my own personal whore!"
"I need it!" he managed through heaving, breathy moans. "I'm your whore, I'm your bitch, I'll do anything you say!"
Ursa waved goodbye to a speechless Iroh as she gave it to him as hard and as fast as she could.
Ozai's body went rigid as the orgasm overtook him. "Mommy!" he screamed as he came all over his own stomach.
Ursa stopped, the dildo still half-buried in his arse. Both of them were panting, and the weariness of the day settling back over her, she undid the sash around her waist and discarded the toy. She collapsed onto the pillows against the headboard, spent. Ozai remained on his hands and knees as an expression of growing mortification slowly overtook his features, and she stared into his unfocused eyes until he noticed that she was barely repressing a giggle.
"Um," he said awkwardly. "That was… not how I expected tonight would go. Things were said that… can't be unsaid."
"You'd better get used to it." She patted the empty space beside her, wanting him to lie down. He flushed red with embarrassment, then obliged. Ursa laughed — it was cute. He was cute.
"I think — I could," he stuttered. "Mistress," he added with a shy, tentative smile.
She leaned in to kiss him again — not a kiss of lust, but one of affection. He stiffened at her touch, then relaxed to return it with the same tenderness. "Maybe we can get along," she said. "Maybe you and I — we can learn to love each other."
-FIN-