Her General, His Highness

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Her general. 


Riz purred it down at him as she straddled him the night they decided they would start their campaign across the world. He could tell she liked the way it sounded.  She thought he would be brilliant, he could see it in the way she glittered and preened above him when she made her declaration.


So, he let her make it so. 


It seemed easy enough. 


However, their plans did still require a heavy few sacrifices. 


One of them, now, was the feeling of her hands strapping his hands to either side of the bed. A light, lithe touch, her eyes impish as they met his. She stripped off her underwear and crawled up to him. 


He felt himself tighten in anticipation as she straddled him, her cunt dripping as she rubbed against him. She was in her finest silks tonight, her robe sliding along his thighs as she ground against him, small breasts peaked and pretty. 


“My love, my sweet general, my baby…” She cooed, kissing him. 


He closed his eyes to the kiss, his head falling back as he got himself more comfortable under her. 


She reached for a lock that always bounced into his face, twirling it between her fingers.


He heard the metal slide of an object in her hands. 




His eyes opened, and he caught the small flash of silver that made his stomach drop.


“What are those for?” 


“Well, we talked about something a little while back…” She grinned as she tapped his nose with the scissors. He felt a shiver wriggle through him, starting from his crown and down to his groin, “And since you’re going to be my general now…” 


She traced his hairline with the point of the blades. 


“This has to go.” 


“But I don’t… don’t want…” 


“You know this is the only way to stay safe, I don’t want anyone else pulling on it…” She whispered, “I know your weakness…” 


“You think I’ll be letting others anywhere near me like that?” 


“This way I can guarantee it.” She murmurs. 


He shakes his head, hating the idea of it, the idea of anyone else with their hands there, anyone else pulling on it… 


“I won’t, I won’t let them—” 


“Shh… it’s going to be okay, it’s just a trim, baby.” She teased, her teeth catching his lips as she stroked, “A healthy, healthy trim.” 


“Mm… please, don’t …” 


Her hand found the impressive length between his legs, grasping him firmly enough to elicit a small gasp in his throat, stroking him to stiffness with familiar efficiency. A whine of pleasure bubbled out of him despite himself that she kissed from his lips. 


She sunk onto him, groaning as she pierced herself, thighs tight around his hips. 


“God, you feel so good.” She groans, “Every time is like the first, my body will never get used to you…” She praises. She started to bounce a little and he whined again, his head shaking.


She opened the scissors, placing them on the root of the curl that always fell in his eyes, running the blades along the dark brown lock. 


Adam cringed, head ducking a little, eyes closed. 


“Sweetheart, I need you to watch this happen.” She cooed, withdrawing and then snapping the scissors shut so she could use them to tilt his head up, “This is the first of many sacrifices, no one is sadder than me to see it go.” 


She squeezed his cock, her abdomen tensing around him enough to make his eyes fly open again. 


His eyes locked to hers. 


Eyes open. 


They needed to walk into this with their eyes open. 


“Can I continue?” 


He nods. 


“I need to hear you, baby. Can I continue?” 


He swallows, “Yes.” 




She wanted him to want it too? What was the point? It was already happening. He had already said yes. They didn’t need to discuss it anymore. 


“Just, fucking do it—” 


Her hand came to fist the curls at the back of his head, tugging on them hard to pull his eyes up to face her directly, the silver of the scissors digging into his throat a little.


Fuck, she wasn’t playing fair. 




The threat veiled the trust buried in the question. She would not do this for him unless he asked, but maybe she had guessed he would avoid doing so unless she pinned him to the bed and edged him into it. 


“Yes… yes, please. Please cut… cut my hair.” 


His stuttering made her eyes light up. 


She only ever looked like that when she wanted to eat him alive. 


Adam watched her close the scissors around the lock of hair, her eyes dimming a little as she cut it, short as she dared.


“God…” She sighed, real affection in her voice as she found another lock, fingers tangling into it as she slid the scissors against it, “Your hair is so beautiful, pretty boy.”


She started to cut at it more and more, chopping up the front. He tried to focus on the way she massaged him inside of herself as she worked. She’d tighten like a snake with every cut, leaving him groaning. 


She leaned down, kissing him as she started to cut up the back too, tongue in his mouth as he lifted his head for her obediently. She traded a kiss for a cut, fisting the curls as she cut it all off, making his head lighter and lighter. 


Despite himself, he felt a few tears slip from his cheeks as she took it away. 


He felt her fingers tangle into the much shorter curls at the back of his head, pulling his head up with a tight pull that shot straight to his groin, his cock pulsing inside of her. He was sure he looked nothing short of raggedy, looking up at her with little tufts. 


Her hand brushed away the tear trailing down his cheek.


“What is it?” 


“You’re… ruining it…” 


She wasn’t even trying to make it look salvageable. 


“This is just the warm-up—” 


“N-no more, p-please.” He begged, his eyes widening at the threat. 


She sighed, her head tilting a little, “Do you want me to just go get the clippers, baby boy?” 




“It’s okay, sweetie, I thought you’d like this more, but we can make it go faster…” She started to bounce on him, her thighs drenched, her breasts swimming in his vision. He whines, his face moving, wanting to hide in her, hide away from this… this ugliness he felt now. 


How could she do this to either of them? 


He thought she loved his hair. 


“Please—please just… just finish me-it. Finish it. I… I can’t…” 


He needed her to pick one or the other, torture or pleasure, the combination of both was making his chest hurt. It was completely new, the pain not morphing well. 


“Okay, sweetie, just stay right there.” 


She pulled off of him.


“Wait—no—” Betrayal gasped his voice, tears coming down his eyes a little more, “Don’t leave me like this…” 


She slipped off the bed, grinning as she kissed him. 


“Shh, baby boy, it’s okay… It’s all gonna be okay.” 


She left him, sauntering to the bathroom and rifling for an infuriatingly long time. 


She came back, holding the clippers in her hand as she plugged them in, setting them on the side table as she leaned down, licking up his cock. 


“Thanks for being so patient for me, baby,” She crooned to it, “I promise I haven’t forgotten about you.” 


She pushed his thighs up, exposing his ass to the air. 


“I’m gonna make sure you feel so, so good.” 


She shifted, moving silken fabric up her thigh, and coming to the back, before pulling out the butt plug that had been resting snugly in her ass, collecting her sweet wetness and pressing the long, slim thing to Adam’s entry, looking up at him coyly. 


“Kept it warm for you.” She cooed, and pressed in it, eliciting another gasp as she slid it in smoothly to the flared base, her lips sealing around the head of his cock as she did so. 


She smiled at him, flicking the clippers on with the confidence of a woman who often used vibrators to torture him


She pressed the base of the device to the plane of his abs, moving it up slowly as she crawled across his body until she had her thighs firmly around his waist, her ass pressing against his cock, which was stiff and wet still from her. 


“Now, you need to stay very very still for me, pretty boy, okay? Otherwise, we’ll have to go with the scissors again.” 


“I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” He promises, his cock throbbing a little against her.




She reached back, turning on the plug she had slipped into him and he gasped, stiffening with the onslaught of pleasure, his spine arcing up a little, trying to get away from the feeling against his prostate to no avail.  


“Fuck— fuck.” 


“Uh-uh.” She tutted, “Don’t move, Adam.” 




“I don’t want to hurt you.” 


She pressed her ass more firmly to his length as she pulled his head forward, putting the clippers to the root of his partline.


“No one else gets to touch you like this, Adam.” 


She pushed it through, “You’re my general now. Not a healer, not a surgeon.” 


The clippers carved the line down to his nape, vibrating up his skull. 


“Show me, baby, prove to me what I already know—”


His eyes rolled back in his head a little as she squeezed her ass around his cock, and he painted the sheets of the bed like a dog that had pissed itself.


“N—no-no-.” His face burns with embarrassment. 


He feels her flick off the extra hair from the clippers, the errant strands sliding down his neck. 




She pulled him back, holding the nape of his neck like there was still hair to grab there.


“My. Fucking. General.”


Like phantom strings, she was his puppet master still. 




“Unh, uh huh.” Adam pants. 


“Look at me.” She said, her voice commanding, smooth. He hadn’t even noticed that he was looking where he had shamed himself.


His body was a discord of over-sensitivity, his thighs shaking underneath her, but his eyes still rose to meet hers. 


“Y-yes, yes.” 




“Yes, my queen. I understand.” 


“Very good.” 


She reached down to turn off the vibrator inside of him and then carved another line out of his ruined hair, taking her time to clean him up. 


He was soon half asleep in her arms feeling plucked like a chicken. Out of his body, his head pressed to her sternum. 


She set the clippers down, rubbing her hand across the stubble of his head, tilting his face up again, smiling at him. He couldn’t help himself from smiling back. She had stripped him entirely, his body didn’t belong to him anymore. This was not the man she had fallen in love with. 


“My general.” She whispered and kissed him in feral triumph. 


He gave her a second round, and then a third, letting her mark her claim again and again. She cried out her release, pulling on the thatch of hair at his groin like it was a new head of hair. She had then turned on the plug, riding him with shaking thighs, wringing him dry. 


She finally shifted, reaching to undo his binds. Her hands, which had scratched and squeezed, massaged the red marks on his wrist gently, and her mouth, which had bitten and cursed and cackled, pressed featherlight kisses. 


“Come back to me, pretty boy.” She whispered, her hands gentle as feeling finally pinpricked back to life in his limbs and in his mind, “C’mon.” 


“Mmm…” He shook his head, eyes fluttering open. Numb to the damage. 


“Let’s go wash you off, okay? Then a bath? I’ll have housekeeping come clean up our mess.” She whispered, dusting some errant strands off his neck. 


He caught the look in her eyes. Even with all the posturing, she was certainly sad to see it go. This ritual had been as much for her as it had been for him. 




She pulled him from the bed, his body leaning heavily against hers.


As they passed by the mirror in their room, Adam couldn’t help but blink to look at himself, his eyes widening a little. 


He looked terrifying like this, all sharp angles and glower, his part line clean and his piercings jagged. He looked like a gangster, like a hardened criminal. 


It wasn’t Adam who looked back. 


It was… 




A general. 


A conqueror. 


And the story began.

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