Vulkan advanced upon her, tearing down the front of her satin nightgown with one sweep of his massive arm, exposing her succulent breasts with their fear hardened, fuchsia-pink nipples. He laughed delightedly as Amariza tried to huddle her arms over her bosom and cover her golden haired sex with her hand.
"The worst kind," scoffed the prince savagely, "the kind created and sent by the Lord High Wizard Malpurgo, whom you no doubt remember as having served you well and whom you wronged most grievously in return."
Amariza blanched as he spoke.
"That sick-minded old fool demanded the hand of our beloved daughter, then only fourteen years old," she spat out, struggling to regain some semblance of her normal icy control.
Vulkan shrugged.
"Nevertheless, my master Malpurgo has charged me with returning your favours ten-fold."
Vulkan's hand shot out, striking Amariza in the diaphragm with his straightened fingers. He grinned as the breath whooshed out of her mouth and she collapsed heavily to her knees. Vulkan resisted the almost overpowering urge to ram his cock down her throat, as she hung there gasping in front of him, but her spirit was not yet broken and he knew she would very likely bite.
Gargo came up behind the queen with an iron collar that he snapped shut around her slender neck and then, bending her arms behind her back, he buckled on a pair of wrist cuffs. These he connected via a short length of chain to a ring in the back of the collar. Amariza was now effectively immobilised; forced to arch backward in an effort to keep the load off her arms and throat.
Vulkan turned to the dungeon master, "start up the forge and get out the branding irons."
Amariza looked up from her knees, her beautiful blue eyes two bleary pools of pain as she struggled to make sense of Vulkan's words.
"I'll see you impaled for this, sirrah!" she hissed, "my husband will drag you behind his horse to the executioner's block by your ears."
Vulkan sneered down at her, "by now your husband is will be drooling like a baby. I very much doubt he can even say the word, 'horse' anymore, let alone ride one."
Vulkan grabbed a thick hank of blonde hair and yanked her head back as far as it would go. Then he took hold of his massive cock in his other fist and offered the glistening, cum-slicked glans to her face, wiping the dripping juice across her cheeks and screwing the bloated meat into her nostrils so that she could appreciate the full smell of him.
Amariza struggled in vane to twist her head away from the vile organ. Unlike her sister-in-law, she had never been fond of sex. After the birth of Flamia, she had actively discouraged the king's visits to her bedchamber and he had rarely bothered her since. Now she was forced to contemplate being raped by what could only described as a nightmare of a cock as Vulkan pushed her face down on to the floor and sank down behind her, his knees pushing between hers as he spread her shaking thighs wide.
Amariza gritted her teeth as she felt his phallus nudge up to her sex, shrugging the exquisitely layered labia easily aside as he pushed forward to locate the first part of the big cock-head in her arid vulva. The prince placed his large palm into the small of her back and pushed down, grinding her soft breasts into the stone to elevate her buttocks and then he rammed himself forward with a loud grunt.
Amariza screamed in agony, as her vagina was rent fully halfway up its length by the stone-hard column of gristle. Vulkan thrust forward again and again until he felt himself fully bottomed within the queen's narrow channel. The quaking noblewoman sucked in a ragged breath as the prince paused to enjoy the incredibly tight, sucking grip her shocked muscles had on his shaft. Then he began to fuck her slowly, feeling her innards rippling and spasming as his great, veined rod slid in and out, building up his speed until her body was lurching back and forth in unison with his and her breath coming in sharp, hacking huffs as he reamed her unused sex.
Such was the state of his excitement that Vulkan ejaculated after only a dozen thrusts, his bulging testes disgorging a huge, scalding stream of zest into her brutalised chasm. Amariza groaned in revulsion as she felt his seed gush in to further violate her body, but her protests soon turned to sighs of relief as the lubricating spunk eased the fiery passage of his cock as it reamed her otherwise bone-dry gulch.
Vulkan withdrew, leaving Amariza's sex gaping slack-mouthed and choked with his thick, dripping curd. The woman lay still, her belly panting. A fine patina of sweat had sprung out to cover her body as she fought to stop herself from shaking. She pressed her forehead to the cool stone, the wide, blue eyes pain-filled and staring into nothingness.
However, her respite was only momentary as Vulkan took his still solid shaft and laid it into the crack of her arse.
"This particular pleasure I will enjoy almost as much as fucking little Flamia," her told her cruelly, barking out with laughter as the outraged queen reared up in outrage at his threat to rape her daughter.
"Spawn of Satan, I hope you rot in Hellarghhhhhhhhh!…" Amariza's curse rose to become an ululating shriek of agony as Vulkan rammed himself into her rectum. The persimmon-sized glans ruptured the delicate girdle of muscle in an excruciating explosion of pain and then he was surging smoothly into her bowels. Such was the level of her pain that Amariza could only squat on her knees shaking from head-to-foot like a jelly, her beautiful red lips peeled back from the perfect white teeth to expose her gums as she bellowed forth endlessly.
Vulkan bellowed too, but his cry was one of pure ecstasy as he slammed himself in and out of the queen's deliciously smooth back passage. His hard hips began to smack into her luxurious arse-cheeks, sending great shockwaves through the slender blonde frame; making her breasts dance and cavort madly as her whole body was rocked by his onslaught.
Amariza's self-control finally cracked and she began to sob uncontrollably as the exultant satyr continued to rape her arse until the blood from her torn sphincter trickled down the insides of her thighs to her knees.
Princess Flamia stood in the centre of her mother's bedchamber with Lord Branco. The ruined door hung drunkenly ajar where the guards had stove it in with their battleaxes not three hours ago.
The pair were looking for any clue to the queen's disappearance that the seneschal's men might have missed. After a few minutes careful searching, Branco noticed some small tufts of what he took to be golden silk sticking out of a joint in the woodwork of the old bookcase. He pulled them free and handed them to Flamia.
"It's some strands of my mother's hair!" she spluttered, holding it up to the sunlight.
Branco returned to the bookcase and after a few minutes close inspection was able to spring open the concealed trap to expose the cramped passage beyond. The knight drew his sword, stepped into the void and cocked an ear, but there was no sound save for the gentle sighing of an updraft.
"Where does it lead?" asked Flamia in a whisper.
"Down," replied Branco darkly, "listen little-one, go quickly to the guardroom on the main landing and bring the sergeant, tell him to follow me down with as many men as he can quickly muster."
Flamia nodded, her pale blue eyes huge with fear as Branco lit one of her mother's bedside candles and disappeared into the dark. As soon as he was gone Flamia picked up her skirts and raced down to the guardroom, but the room was empty. The guard had been stripped down to the outer walls only as the search parties had been dispatched into the surrounding countryside.
In a panic, Flamia ran back to her mother's apartments and stood looking into the awful void. She lit the remaining candle and then she took a very deep breath and followed in Branco's footsteps.
Gargo had the furnace beginning to glow with the help of the little grull who sat patiently to the side, pumping the bellows with his hairy feet to feed the crackling fire with air.