The Prince gazed down at Lilliphane's gently bobbing crown. The sensations building within the bulging organ as she sucked him were exquisite, but hardly enough to satisfy his hugely caged hunger.
The satyr relinquished the last vestiges of his mind's control and was instantly gratified with a searing climax that seemed to come from his toes. A huge, scalding bolus of spunk rushed up the contracting shaft to splatter into Lilliphane's voracious mouth.
The princess gamely tried to gulp down the humongous load in its entirety, but could hardly swallow fast enough. The oversexed bitch moaned with delight as the hot overflow ran down on to her chest. She allowed the glans to pop out of her mouth, leaning back to give him the best view of her large, bowl-shaped breasts as she began to massage his cum into the soft flesh. Concentrating on her ochre pigmented nipples, purring as she lubricated the wide aureoles, paying particular attention to the sensitive central stalks with yet more cum wiped from her chin.
With calculated gentleness, Vulkan ran his long, powerful fingers through Lilliphane's thick, dark tresses, taking careful purchase on her scalp. Slowly at first and then with growing insistence the satyr drew the cooing lips back toward his waiting member, which due to his satyriasis had lost none of its vigour. He stepped back from the bed as the unsuspecting woman extended her neck to follow him, a disapproving moan coming from her throat as she signalled that she should stand still.
The princess was a spoilt and selfish woman who, in recent years had gotten use to the men she seduced doing things her way. She had drunk far too much wine and was becoming sleepy after her previous orgasms. She decided that she would instruct the prince to fuck her quickly, until she came one last time and then he would have to go – until the next time.
Lilliphane giggled when she thought about Flamia's forthcoming wedding night. She really out to forewarn the poor girl, but how could she? She could hardly confess to first hand knowledge of young Vulkan's incredible member. Ah well, Flamia would find out in due course. Perhaps she should suggest to Amariza that she give her daughter a large pot of goose grease as one of her wedding gifts.
And then, just when her throat was fully extended Vulkan slid his mighty phallus all the way down her gullet in one fluid movement, simultaneously snapping her head forward so that her regal nose was crushed up against his unyielding sheet of belly muscle.
The move had been so swiftly executed that it took the startled princess a moment to realise what had happened to her. One second she was slurping at the succulent cock-head and the next, the bloated column was surging down her throat, forcing apart her oesophageal tract until she thought her throat would burst.
Lilliphane gagged in panic against the sudden blockage of her airway, raking her long, carefully enamelled nails ineffectually across the taught skin of Vulkan's rock hard buttocks. She struggled as hard as she could to withdraw her face from the suffocating groin, but the prince simply wound his fingers more tightly into her scalp. His face split into a crazed grin as he gazed down at the slut flopping about helplessly on the full length of his aching meat.
Vulkan held her like that for a full minute, enjoying the sound of her strangled, frightened whinnies and the feel of her gullet contracting spasmodically around his super-sensitive shaft. Soon her struggles began to wane and she sagged down onto the rumpled bed sheet, her diaphragm heaving erratically, until her hands fell away from his hips and finally, she slipped into narcoleptic oblivion.
Quickly, the Prince retrieved his pouch and lashed Lilliphane's wrists and ankles together and fitted a gag, complete with tongue depressor, before heaving her up on to his shoulder and padding back to the panel trap and the tunnels beyond.
Vulkan slipped between the walls and floors of the keep until he came to the place that allowed him to look into Countess Jessica's bedchamber. He set Lilliphane down in the dark and put his eye to the peephole.
The countess was not alone, she had one on the young footmen with her whom he had seen earlier serving at the banquet. Silently, Vulkan slid aside the panel and stepped into the room. The countess was on her back in the centre of the bed with the footman gathered between her smooth thighs, her ankles locked about his waist as he lunged energetically into her.
She saw Vulkan as soon as he stepped through the trap and grinned lasciviously at him over her young lover's shoulder. At the same time she pushed her middle finger into the youth's anus making him rear up gasping as she gently pulsed her long, sharp-nailed digit in and out – gently reaming him. Then, as Vulkan approached, she pulled his boyish face down on to her breast and slipped her sweet nipple into his mouth to further distract him. Her smile splitting her face from ear-to-ear as the prince leant over the bottom of the bed, flipping his heavy dirk over in his palm, extending his arm to hold the bronze pommel poised above the footman's unsuspecting head.
The countess began to chant into the youth's ear, her glistening wet tongue coiling inside the sensitive whorls of cartilage as all the while she stared into Vulkan's glittering eyes, whilst the quaking satyr waited for the youth to shoot his load.
"Oh God! yes, that's good, I can feel you in me, right up to my womb, yes, yes, come on baby, harder, fuck me harder, I want your thick spunk inside me nowwwwwww!" and then she was coming. Her wide mouth falling open to show the way down into her throat, her eyes still fixed on Vulkan's hovering only inches above hers.
The youth could contain himself no longer at the sound of her cultured voice talking such filth. He reared up on his arms, his buttocks clenching tightly as he fired himself into the fabulous aristocratic creature, who had lured him to her chambers with promises his lowly kind could only dream about. However, just at the moment of his ultimate pleasure Vulkan rapped him sharply behind the ear and sent him off into instant oblivion.
With a negligent sweep of his great arm, the satyr hurled the unconscious youth off the bed and dived between the countess' still shaking thighs. The pleasure she had got from fucking in front of the prince had been double, treble, quadruple what she had been experiencing before he had appeared. But now, as Vulkan gobbled at her sex like a starving man, his tongue writhing higher within her sex chasm than she could have believed possible, a second towering orgasm smashed through her loins. She howled out loud and long as he lifted her buttocks high into the air and ground her crushed vulva against his face, sucking out the delicious milt that abounded there.
Once he had finished feeding from her he gave her little time to recover and no time at all to dress.
"Its time!" he said and stepped back into the void and without a moment's hesitation she followed him in.
If the countess was surprised to find Princess Lilliphane being carried, naked, bound and gagged down into the bowels of the castle, she showed no reaction. Concentrating instead on following the prince's rapidly disappearing form down through the many twists, turns, and deadlocks until they emerged into the main dungeon hall.
The Countess stared around herself somewhat uncertainly, taking in the weird array of machines, each one more strange and frightening than the last.
Vulcan deposited Lilliphane over a whipping horse and rattled his dirk against an iron triangle hanging from the ceiling.
Despite her nudity, the countess noticed an all-pervading warmth making her skin prickle with perspiration. She remarked upon it to Vulkan, who pointed upward.
"The main kitchens are directly above," he explained, "the fires burn day and all night and the heat travels down here through the stone buttresses supporting the roof.
Gargo, the dungeon master, shambled up the steps from the cells in response to Vulkan's alarm. His hirsute, endomorphic body covered only by an ancient leather apron and sandals. Behind him came the little grull hopping up the steps on its bandy legs. The countess pointed a long, shaking finger at the little gargoyle.