He strokes her gently, with just enough lifecraft to give her hope but not enough to give her what she hopes for.

"You beg so prettily, my treasure."

"Please please please please please," she sobs.

"No." He takes his hand away and kisses the top of her head and gets out of bed and leaves her there. "Enjoy the rest of your day," he says cheerfully as he walks away.

Her whine builds into a wail. She curls up in his bed and clutches a pillow and cries.

After a long while of that, she sits up and finishes eating breakfast, and then goes and has a bath, and then returns to her own room, determinedly ignoring the empty room every time she passes it. If she lingers by that door she'll be far too tempted to go inside and lie down on the bare floor and touch herself to the memory of all the things he's done to her there.

Instead of that, she sits down at her desk and draws. She can't make her thoughts sit still long enough to get words out of them, but she can join a line to another line and end up with a silk-finned fish or a tree or a leaf or a pretty table.

She loses track of time a little; it's midafternoon by the time she hears a noise and looks up.

The Emperor is watching her from the doorway, wearing clothes for once. "Pretty," he remarks. "Come here."

"Yes, my lord," she murmurs, putting her pen down and hurrying to kneel at his feet.

He pets her hair. "Still want me to rape you?"

"Always, my lord."

He laughs, and shoves his cock in her mouth and fucks her ruthlessly.

She whimpers and chokes and clings to his gorgeous silk overrobe.

When he finishes, he pets her hair again and then tucks himself back into his trousers and leaves.

She was doing so well, and now all she can think of is how much she wants to be pinned down and fucked senseless.

Maybe it'll help if she has a nap. She curls up in her lovely bed and hugs a pillow and makes herself stop squirming, and eventually manages to fall asleep.

When she wakes up, the room is dark and the Emperor is on top of her, pressing her facedown into the bed, his breath hot on the back of her neck.

She squirms and moans.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, please my lord, I want your cock in my cunt, I don't know how I'm going to make it a week, please—"

"I'm going to rape you," he murmurs in her ear, "and I want you to fight me. I want you to fight like you're terrified out of your mind, like having my cock in your ass is the worst thing you can imagine and you'd throw your life away to escape it. Can you do that for me, my treasure?"

She whimpers softly. "Yes, my lord."

"Good." He kisses the back of her neck. "Go on then."

She fights. She kicks and twists and shoves and scratches and bites, with desperate savage strength and no consideration for her own safety.

It's entirely futile, of course.

He pins her to the bed and rapes her ass. When her teeth draw blood from his grasping hand, he laughs. When her desperate squirming finally succeeds in separating her from his cock, he dislocates both her shoulders and snaps the bones in her thighs and then goes back to raping her.

Even then, she doesn't stop fighting - writhing, twisting, sobbing with pain. It feels amazing. She is so utterly powerless under him, so completely unable to stop him from violating her any way he wants.

Eventually, he comes, crushing her wrists to splinters in his iron grip.

"Enough," he says, and presses an affectionate kiss to the back of her neck.

She goes limp immediately.