CHAPTER 53: Zuko's Recovery [R-18]
If one said it was on a ship, they wouldn't believe it. The steam-heavy air of the imperial bathhouse clung to Zuko's skin like a second membrane, a welcome warmth against the phantom aches that still throbbed beneath his bandages. The scent of jasmine and cypress, carefully chosen to soothe a prince's agitated nerves, filled his nostrils. He lay prone on a raised, cushioned plinth, the silken sheets cool beneath his bare chest, a faint sheen of sweat already gathering on his brow. His back, crisscrossed with fresh scars and meticulously applied salves, was a canvas of recent violence. The deepest gouges from General Fong's Earthbending assault were still raw, but the healers had done their work with meticulous care.
Today, however, the healing was less about poultices and more about touch. He'd dismissed the stern, elderly male healers, those who treated him with a detached professionalism that felt more like clinical assessment than true care. He'd requested, instead, a team of three. Young. Capable. And, most importantly, beautiful. Their names, whispered in the hushed tones of the crew, were Anya, Rina, and Lyra.
Anya, with her sleek, obsidian hair and eyes like polished jade, was at his shoulders, her strong, slender fingers kneading the knotted muscles of his trapezius. Her touch was firm but practiced, a rhythmic pressure that sent shivers of both pain and pleasure through him. Rina, her hair a cascade of fiery auburn, was at his lower back and hips, her hands tracing the curve of his injured side, her touch lighter, more exploratory, as if mapping the contours of his body. And Lyra, the youngest, with a softer, more innocent face framed by golden-brown curls, was at his legs, her thumbs pressing into the soles of his feet, sending jolts up his calves.
Zuko closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the sensation. This was not the terse, necessary relief of Azula's unexpected offering days ago – a desperate, almost clinical release of tension. This was indulgence. This was the privilege of command. He was no longer the banished, humiliated prince, scrabbling for survival. He was the Crown Prince, returned from the brink, his body scarred but his spirit unbroken, his authority absolute.
"Too much pressure, Anya," he rumbled, his voice a low growl, not of complaint, but of testing.
Anya's fingers eased immediately, her breath a soft whisper against his ear. "Forgive me, Your Highness. Is this better?" Her voice was smooth, like dark silk.
"Keep it there," he commanded, a slight tremor in his muscles as her touch settled. He felt her shift, her hip brushing against his side, and he could smell the sweet, clean scent of her skin, faintly perfumed with a floral oil.
Rina, meanwhile, had begun to slide her hands around his hips, her palms flat against his abdomen. Her touch was surprisingly bold, her fingers brushing the bandaged edge of his lower ribs, then moving lower, towards the waistband of the loose silk trousers he wore. "The Fire Lord instructed us to ensure complete recovery, Your Highness," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "Every muscle, every sinew. Especially those that bear the brunt of your… spirited nature." There was a subtle emphasis on "spirited nature," a knowing quality in her tone that suggested she understood the kind of man he was, the kind of power he wielded.
Lyra's touch on his feet grew more confident, her nails – short and clean – tracing the delicate lines of his instep. He felt a blush of warmth rise from his toes, spreading upward.
"Tell me," Zuko said, his eyes still closed, "are you enjoying your work?"
Anya's laugh was a soft, breathy sound. "It is an honor to serve the Crown Prince, Your Highness." It was the expected answer, but there was a tremor in her voice that belied the formality.
Rina's fingers had, by now, slipped beneath the silk, her warm palm resting against the taut skin of his lower belly. He felt a jolt of primal awareness. This was it. The delicate balance of healing and pleasure was beginning to tip. He wanted it to tip.
"An honor, yes," Zuko replied, drawing out the words, "but is it pleasurable?"
There was a moment of silence. He could feel the quickening of their breaths, the subtle shift in the air around him.
Then Lyra spoke, her voice softer, more tentative, but with an underlying current of eagerness. "Your Highness is… a man of great strength. It is a pleasure to feel that strength, even in repose." Her fingers were now tracing the tendons in his ankles, working their way up.
Zuko shifted, just slightly, causing the silk trousers to pull taut. Rina's hand, still beneath the fabric, felt his growing hardness. Her fingers twitched, then began to very lightly caress him through the thin material. It was a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, but Zuko felt it, every brush of her palm, every whisper of cloth against his burgeoning erection. A groan, low and unbidden, escaped his lips.
"Perhaps," Zuko said, his voice deeper now, laden with desire, "we can extend the therapy to areas that require a more… thorough application of heat."
Anya's hands slid from his shoulders, tracing the line of his arm, then her fingers unknotted the ties of his silk trousers. The cool air brushed against his skin as the fabric loosened, then was carefully pulled down and away. He was naked now, exposed beneath their ministrations, but there was no shame, only a burgeoning sense of raw power.
Rina's eyes, when he opened his, were wide, dark pools of desire. Her hand, no longer restricted by fabric, closed around him. Her touch was hesitant at first, then firm, her thumb stroking the sensitive tip of his shaft. Zuko gasped, a low shudder running through his body. His pain, his lingering injuries, seemed to recede, replaced by a surging tide of pure exhilaration. He felt the blood rush to his cock, making it thick and heavy in her hand.
"Crown Prince," Rina whispered, her voice husky, "you are magnificent."
"Am I?" Zuko challenged, his eyes burning into hers. He saw the flicker of capitulation, of wanting, in their depths. This was not deference born of fear, but of arousal. It was exactly what he wanted.
Lyra, seeing Rina's boldness, took a deep breath, shed her outer tunic, and knelt beside his legs, her eyes fixed on his erection. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Rina's, then took hold of his balls, cupping them gently in her small, warm hand. "We are here to serve your every need, Your Highness," she breathed, her cheeks flushed with a delicate flush.
Anya, more reserved but no less intent, moved to his side, her gaze lingering on the scars that marred his torso, then sliding lower, to his groin. Without a word, she lowered herself, her hair falling like a dark curtain around his hips, and her tongue, warm and wet, brushed against the head of his cock.
Zuko stiffened, a sharp intake of breath. The sensation was electric, primal. He had been given blowjobs before, but never with such unbridled desire, never with this explicit acknowledgement of his power. Azula's act had been a cold transaction, a display of twisted affection. This was worship.
Anya's mouth closed around him, her lips soft and yielding, her tongue flicking, swirling, tasting him. She took him deeper, her throat working in a slow, practiced rhythm. Zuko's hips instinctively bucked upward, pressing himself into her mouth. He could feel the suction, the warmth, the exquisite pressure that built and built.
Rina abandoned his shaft, her hands moving to his inner thighs, spreading them slightly, making him more accessible. Her fingers trailed upward, finding the sensitive skin of his perineum, then working their way to his ass cheeks, massaging them, kneading them. He felt a deep ache in his groin, a desperate need for more.
Lyra, still cupping his balls, leaned forward and began to suck gently on one, then the other, her lips pulling and tugging, her tongue swirling. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious torture. He groaned, his head falling back against the cushion, his fingers digging into the silken sheets.
"More," he gasped, the word torn from his throat. "All of you. More."
Anya pulled back for a moment, her eyes, dark and gleaming, locking with his. There was no subservience now, only pure, unadulterated lust. She reached up, her hand cupping one of his heavy balls while Lyra worked on the other, then she resumed her task, her head bobbing, her mouth a hot, wet cavern. She took him deeper this time, her dedication absolute, her throat a willing channel. The feeling of being completely swallowed, of having his cock enveloped from base to tip, was intoxicating.
Rina, her face flushed, leaned across him, her breasts, full and ripe, brushing against his chest. She took one of his nipples between her lips and began to suckle, gently at first, then with increasing fervor, her tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Zuko cried out, a raw, animal sound. The combination of intense oral on his cock and the shocking pleasure of his nipples being worshipped was almost too much to bear. His body was a live wire, humming with raw energy.
He pulled Anya's head back, his hand tangled in her dark hair. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice hoarse. Her eyes, clouded with desire, met his. "This is for me. All of it."
She nodded, a silent promise, then took him back into her mouth, her actions even more fervent, more devoted.
Rina continued to suckle his nipple, her free hand sliding down his side, over his hip, then between his legs, her fingers brushing past his working cock and finding his perineum again, then sliding further, to his anus. She teased the tight ring, her finger applying a light, circular pressure. Zuko's back arched, a shiver running through him that wasn't pain, but a deep, unfamiliar arousal.
Lyra moved up, her small hands replacing Rina's on his chest, her fingers tracing the faint lines of his new scars. She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear. "We are yours, Your Highness. To command." Her voice was a warm breath against his skin. Then she slid lower, her body pressed against his side, and she began to kiss, then lick, the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, working her way up towards his groin, her tongue darting, tasting, driving him wild.
He was a furnace, his body radiating heat, pain and pride burning away in the crucible of his desire. This was not the broken boy who had faced Agni Kai. This was the Phoenix King in waiting, asserting his will, his body a conduit for his newfound power. Every touch, every lick, every suckle was an affirmation.
Anya pulled her mouth away from his cock, her face slick with his precum, her eyes still locked on his. "You are ready, Your Highness," she breathed, her voice thick with her own rising desire. "We are ready for you."
Rina, her own breathing ragged, released his nipple, which was now hard and erect. She leaned over him, her breasts dangling tantalizingly close to his face, her nipples dark and engorged. "We have been preparing for you, Crown Prince. For this."
Lyra, her face flushed and her eyes gleaming, moved to his other side, her hand reaching down, her fingers brushing the tip of his now fully engorged cock. "Which one of us will be first, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Zuko reached out, his hand wrapping around Lyra's wrist, then pulling her closer. He could feel the softness of her skin, the racing beat of her pulse. "All of you," he grunted, the words a guttural command. "In your own way." He pulled her over him, guiding her, until her soft, fertile pussy was hovering just above his hard cock. Her eyes widened, a flicker of apprehension mixed with intense longing.
"You, Lyra," he whispered, his voice dark with intent. "You will ride me. Show me how much you desire to serve."
Lyra gasped, her eyes fixed on his. She didn't hesitate. With a soft cry, she lowered herself, easing his thick cock into her. Her breath hitched as he slid inside her, the snug warmth a revelation. He felt the soft, wet embrace of her pussy, the exquisite friction as she took him in. She was tight, incredibly so, but also yielding. She cried out, a moan of pure pleasure, as he filled her.
"Oh, Your Highness," she whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders, her body trembling. "You are… so big."
He didn't answer, simply thrust upward, a slow, deliberate movement that buried him deeper inside her. Lyra arched her back, her head falling back, a long, drawn-out moan escaping her lips. He could feel her quivering around him, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching.
Meanwhile, Anya had moved to lie beside him, her long, slender body pressed against his side. She reached over, her hand finding Lyra's breast, her fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh, then rubbing Lyra's hard nipple between her thumb and forefinger. This sent another wave of shivers through Lyra, her moans growing louder.
Rina, not to be outdone, had moved to his other side, kneeling beside him. Her hand, hot and skilled, found his balls and began to massage them, gently tugging, drawing out his already heightened sensation. She leaned over, her mouth finding his, and she kissed him, a deep, hungry kiss that tasted of jasmine and raw desire. Her tongue met his, tangling, swirling, as Lyra continued to ride him above them.
Zuko pulled his lips from Rina's, his eyes still locked on Lyra's face as she rode him, her hips beginning to find a rhythm, slowly at first, then building in pace. "Faster, Lyra," he commanded, his voice rough. "Show me your devotion."
Lyra whimpered, her hips beginning to pump with more urgency, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. Her hair, golden-brown and damp with sweat, clung to her forehead. Each downward thrust brought a new cry from her. He was buried deep, feeling her inner walls grip him, milking him with every movement.
Anya, her eyes burning with a dark, hungry light, moved her hand from Lyra's breast and slid it down, over Lyra's hip, until her fingers found Lyra's clitoris. She began to stroke it, a light, teasing motion that made Lyra gasp, her hips bucking harder, faster, on Zuko's cock.
Rina, her hand still on Zuko's balls, leaned down and began to lick and suck the skin of his stomach, her tongue circling his navel, then dragging a warm, wet line downward, towards the junction of his body with Lyra's. He felt a shocking jolt as her tongue swirled around the base of his shaft, right where it disappeared into Lyra.
"Ah, fuck," Zuko ground out, his body arching, pressing deeper into Lyra. The combined sensations were overwhelming, pushing him to the brink. His vision swam, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He felt Lyra clench around him, her walls spasming as she rode him to her own climax, a soft, protracted moan escaping her lips. Her body went rigid for a moment, then relaxed, slumping onto his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.
But Zuko was not done. Not by a long shot. He shifted, keeping his cock buried deep within Lyra, and with a grunt of effort, he rolled, bringing Lyra's soft, pliant body with him, until he was on top of her, pinning her to the plinth. He looked down into her dazed, sated eyes. "Stay there," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. "You'll be the bed for the next act."
Lyra, still panting, simply nodded, her eyes wide as he looked past her, towards Anya and Rina.
Anya, seeing his raw hunger, wasted no time. She parted her legs, kneeling between his, her hands reaching down to cup her own full breasts, pushing them up and out. Her nipples, already hard, seemed to beckon. "Your Highness," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr, "allow me to soothe your aches."
He pulled out of Lyra with a wet, sucking sound, the release momentary before the desire to be buried in another hot, wet body surged back. Lyra whimpered beneath him, feeling the loss, but he ignored it, his eyes fixed on Anya.
He reached out, his hands grasping Anya's hips, pulling her closer. He could see the moist sheen between her legs, the dark tangle of hair. She was wet, ready. With a powerful thrust, he drove himself into her. Anya gasped, a long, drawn-out cry of pleasure, her body arching back as he filled her completely. She was tighter than Lyra, a deeper, more encompassing warmth that sent shivers directly to his core.
Each thrust was a statement, a declaration of his power. He pushed into her, feeling the slick, hot friction, the soft inner walls gripping him, milking him. Anya, her arms wrapping around his neck, met his thrusts with her own, her hips bucking, her moans deep and guttural. Her long, black hair cascaded around them as they moved, a frenzied dance of uninhibited lust.
Rina, her eyes shining with anticipation, didn't wait to be told. She moved around them, her hands finding Anya's ass cheeks, kneading them, spreading them slightly, giving Zuko an even deeper angle into Anya's willing body. Then, incredibly, she lowered herself, her face level with Anya's swollen clitoris, and began to lick and suck. Anya cried out, her back arching even further, her legs wrapping around Zuko's waist, pulling him in even tighter.
"Oh, god, yes!" Anya screamed, her voice hoarse, as Zuko plunged into her, her clitoris being skillfully tormented by Rina's tongue. She was a riot of sensations, her body trembling under his relentless assault. He could feel her orgasm building, the rhythmic contractions of her inner muscles, the rising heat.
Zuko's own climax was building, hot and insistent. He was on the precipice, driving into Anya with all his strength, feeling the tremors of her body as she climaxed around him, her walls milking him, her cries echoing in the steamy room.
But he found an extra surge of control, a perverse desire to prolong the agony and the pleasure. He pulled out of Anya just as she was coming down from her peak, the wet sound loud in the room. Anya whimpered, her eyes wide, her body still trembling.
He looked at Rina, her face flushed, her lips glistening with Anya's juices. "Your turn, Fire Lily," he rasped, his voice raw.
Rina's eyes, bright with desire, met his. She was already kneeling, her legs spread, her pussy a glistening, inviting target. Without a word, she grasped his hips, pulling him towards her. Zuko plunged into her, the sensation of her tight, hot sheath a new kind of exquisite torture. She was the tightest yet, her walls gripping him with an almost painful intensity. Rina cried out, a guttural sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure, her body arching back, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
He felt the old scars on his back pull, a familiar ache, but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through him. This was what victory felt like. This was the spoils of war, taken on his terms, in his palace.
Anya, her body still quivering, leaned up and began to lick Zuko's chest, her tongue tracing the faint lines of his scar, then moving lower, to his abs, her mouth hot and wet against his skin.
Lyra, still beneath him, propped herself up on her elbows and began to stroke Zuko's inner thigh, her fingers trailing upwards, brushing his balls, then teasing the sensitive skin beneath.
Zuko drove into Rina, his hips pumping, his thrusts deep and powerful. Rina met him stroke for stroke, her head thrown back, her hair a wild, fiery cascade around them. Her moans were loud, uninhibited, a symphony of pure pleasure. Her pussy gripped him, milking him with every thrust, and he could feel the exquisite sensation building, the fiery heat. He looked down at Rina's face, contorted in ecstasy, her body arching, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. He felt her clenching around him, her orgasm building, waves of pure sensation washing over him.
He felt the familiar shudder begin in his own body, the precursor to release. He buried himself deeper inside Rina, plunging one last, powerful thrust, and then he let go. A guttural roar tore from his throat as he climaxed, a hot, thick torrent of seed pouring into Rina's tight, willing body. His vision exploded in a shower of sparks, his body rigid, trembling, then slumping onto Rina, his chest heaving.
Rina cried out, her own orgasm peaking as his enveloped her, her body spasming around his, milking him dry. She clung to him, her nails digging into his back, her moans dissolving into soft whimpers of sated pleasure.
He lay there, heavy and sated, his breath ragged, his body slick with sweat and their mingled fluids. His injured back still ached, but it was a distant hum, drowned out by the echo of their cries, the lingering scent of sex and jasmine.
Anya and Lyra, their bodies flushed and sated, watched him, their eyes dark with lingering desire, their breathing still heavy. They hadn't left him, even after his climax. They simply watched, adoration and lust still shining in their eyes.
Zuko shifted, pulling himself up, his eyes sweeping over the three women. Lyra, sprawled beneath him, soft and exhausted. Anya, her skin glistening, her eyes promising more. And Rina, still wrapped around him, her body a perfect fit against his.
He was no longer the banished, humiliated prince. He was Crown Prince Zuko, victorious, feared, and satisfied. And this, he thought, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips, this was just the beginning.
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