"Not too enamoured of the lash," he tutted to Vulkan and then noting the countess' confused expression explained, "some women liquor-up nice and juicy under the whip, but not this one – too soft by half, not like her snotty sister-in-law, the queen, he sneered, I bet she'd really cream after a good flogging – the haughty ones always do."
Gargo pinched at Lilliphane's massive nipples, yanking cruelly on the tumescent stalks, but the brunette simply gazed slackly back at him. Her massive globes were now purple with congestion, the veins coursing through the abraded tissue, deep blue-green amongst the vivid, scarlet welts.
Gargo harrumphed to attract Vulkan's attention but the satyr was busily engaged bending the beaming countess back over the nearby racking table as he prepared to mount her.
"Best release the yoke a bit, unless you want her tits to rot off, sire," the gaoler advised.
"Do as you wish," Vulkan snapped over his shoulder, " and give her a good shafting while you're at it."
Gargo could hardly believe his ears. He whistled a merry little jig tunelessly through his splayed teeth as he unwound the worm gear to release the pressure on Lilliphane's great tits. Winking at the horrified brunette as he manhandled her bloated flesh to help get the circulation flowing again.
"Been dreaming about shagging you for years," he sniggered at her gleefully, "standing in the secret tunnels, watching you take it up the back pipe from that tosser of a husband of yours and humping all those other girls' men folk. I seen it all through the peepholes."
Lilliphane groaned deep down in her throat, rolling her head in disbelief against the wooden framework.
The circulation was beginning to force its way back into her breast meat and the pain soon became blinding as the blood rushed in to banish the overall, aching numbness. She raged impotently as the gaoler dropped the height of the press with a crash, making her incandescent tits bounce as he lowered her position. He untied her ankles and kicked her feet apart, re-tying them to the bottom corners of the frame so that now her rump was pushed outward as she was forced to fold at the waist to accommodate the reduced standing height.
The princess shook her head in mute protest as she felt the grotesquely ugly gaoler's insistent fingers pry apart her sex lips from behind. The thick, rank smell of him smarted in her sinuses as she began to hyperventilate in her panic. She felt him lay his leather apron on top of her upturned hips as he positioned himself and then he was forcing his way in. His big hands encircled her waist, dragging her hips inexorably back on to him. The thick, ridged prick like an iron spike as he pushed through the well used labia, still somewhat gungy from her hours of masturbation.
Gorgo groaned his thick lips curled back form his big yellow teeth as he realised the dream of a lifetime. He leant back from the pelvis, placing all of the strain of his body weight on her wrists as he commenced to slam in and out with all of his might. He revelled in the internal warmth of her as he pistoned in and out of her expensive flesh, still unable to believe that he was actually fucking the king's baby sister – even if she was the palace whore.
Princess Lilliphane' tortured mind was reeling after more than an hour of flogging in the hellish dungeon and she felt herself in very real danger of plunging into deep, psychic shock.
The whole demonic episode just seemed to be going from bad to worse. Her life was being turned upside down and inside out. Only a few hours ago she had been sitting at the king's table celebrating at the most sumptuous banquet of the whole year. Nobles, squires, pages and footmen: all eagerly attentive to her every whim. Each vying to ensure that she was always entertained, her plate always full of the choicest delicacies and her goblet always brimming with the finest wine. Nothing was too good for the king's sister.
She had revelled in her licentious conduct at table with the young prince as she discreetly fondled him. Later, spending a delicious hour in her bedchamber in anticipation of his remarkable phallus and then he had come to her. His splendid cock had been all that she could have wished and his spunk, so thick and steaming with heat, just the way she had imagined it.
Then the unthinkable horror as he so casually raped her gullet. She had thought her last moments were upon her as her vision blacked out and she faded away with the blood pounding like all of Hell's hammers in her temples.
Then the whips! Lilliphane could not even begin to conceive how she had made it through the blistering pain, as the savage prince had excoriated the most delicate parts of her body. Even now, her skin seemed to sear and burn at every slight movement and it hurt to breathe.
And now, the foulest creature inhabiting the bowels of the keep, a rancid, ugly troglodyte of a man, was visiting the final ignominy upon her. A character so hideous, that he had been walled up in the dungeons years ago – along with all his mechanical horrors. Lilliphane shivered with revulsion as he was filled her up with his vile organ, huffing and puffing behind her as he sated himself. Groaning and shaking her hips as his shaft swelled and splashed his thick, hot jism into her.
Whilst Lilliphane was forced to endure the gaoler's seemingly endless orgasm, she was treated to the sight of the prince shooting his load into the treacherous countess as they writhed together on the racking table before her very nose.
The beautiful, flame haired Jessica, whom Lilliphane had always secretly envied for her boundless grace and vivacity, was wrapped around the satyr like a second skin. Her arms and legs encircled his massive trunk as he pounded her svelte body; her fingers crooked like talons, the gleaming red nails buried in his flesh, her feet locked around his back, the trim ankles crossed to imprison him.
Despite herself, Lilliphane felt a brief, unwelcome frisson of voyeuristic pleasure ripple through her vagina as the two sweating copulants flexed and panted before her. Between the satyr's spread thighs, the princess could see his organ plunging in and out of Jessica's fiery, red beaver, the blushing labia, swollen, fat and glistening, being stretched beyond belief by the inhuman tool. The countess' nether mouth leaking around the sides of the shaft as he bottomed himself in her, forcing out the cloying seed in thick, silver ribbons than ran slowly down to fill her anal cleft, the excess forming a large, spreading pool on the scarred oak beneath her.
The prince and the countess entered his chambers through the secret adit and dived straight into bed, where they remained, fornicating ardently until dawn. Only then did the exhausted Lady Jessica return to her own chambers; by which time the unfortunate footman had dragged himself off to his quarters, much puzzled and more than a trifle head-sore.
The prince lay in bed until early afternoon, well after the time that Lilliphane's mysterious disappearance should have been discovered. He enjoyed a leisurely bath and dressed in fresh linen before setting off in search of his bride-to-be, whom he found playing croquet with the queen and various ladies-in-waiting in the palace gardens.
Princess Flamia greeted her prospective husband somewhat coolly, but nonetheless allowed Vulkan to kiss her cheek as befitted his newly won status. As he bent close to brush his lips against her peerless young skin, Vulkan's senses were assaulted a rich, organic aroma that made the delicate membranes of his nose tingle and his mouth water – Flamia was menstruating!
The prince quickly considered and discounted a number of ploys to separate the princess from the group, so that he might strip her naked and feed upon the delicious essence flooding her sex. However, the situation was too exposed and so Vulkan was forced to fall back on the protection of autohypnosis to calm his suddenly buzzing appetite.
But being in such close proximity to so many gorgeous women soon took its inevitable toll and Vulkan began to find his eyes being drawn more and more down into the low cut bodices and over the thrusting rumps of the women as they stooped to swing their long handled mallets.