"So be it." Leopold called out in a firm voice, ignoring the quiet weeping of his daughter, who had long ago fallen in love with the dashing and handsome count, now being quietly ushered away from the field by his squires.
However, the princess' pathetic weeping was not lost upon Vulkan, who grinned broadly at her from behind his visor. He promised himself that the pretty blonde princess would have plenty more to weep about in the days and weeks to come. The thought of her deliciously tight arsehole almost had him storming the grandstand there and then.
Prince Vulkan was experiencing great discomfort, sat as he was at the head banqueting table to celebrate his upcoming nuptials. On his left hand, the slender and heartbreakingly beautiful, if somewhat pale and reserved Flamia. She had been crying all day and even the most assiduous attentions of all her many ladies-in-waiting had been insufficient to conceal the puffiness around her eyes.
Like the consummate gallant he was, Vulkan pretended not to notice.
Beside Flamia, the fragrant yet cool and arrogant Queen Amariza who could easily have passed for her daughter's elder sister, having been only sixteen herself, when Leopold knocked her up. On the other side of Amariza was the King.
On Vulkan's right hand, Princess Lilliphane, somewhat older and far more sexually mature than Flamia. As dark as Flamia and her mother were blonde, but where mother and daughter, were tall and willowy, Lilliphane, like her brother, the king, was shorter and prone to heaviness.
Vulkan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the heavy bulk of the cock thrust down the left leg of his suede britches ached incessantly at the closeness of the three regal sluts. Especially, at this particular moment in time, the ripe-bodied Lilliphane, who seemed to exude pheromones from every overheated pore, stimulating his heightened senses to fever pitch.
On Lilliphane's right was her husband, Eldred, a thin-faced effete looking man who had drunk far more wine than was wise and who now sat stupefied. Leaving Lilliphane to her own devices, which, as the banquet went on, seemed to consist of flirting with Vulkan. Her green eyes lingering upon his broad shoulders and bulging biceps as she chatted away, occasionally leaning into him and brushing her fingertips against his arm as she accented whatever vacuous point she was making.
For his part, Vulkan could only nod and smile as he silently chanted the spells taught to him by Malpurgo to keep his raging libido in check. He had already decided to fuck Lilliphane later that night, when the royal wanton placed her hot palm on his inner thigh and stroked the length of his cock meat through the soft doeskin.
Vulkan turned his head and faced her. He smiled tightly as she uttered a tiny gasp of surprise when her fingers discovered his extraordinary size. Despite her shock, Lilliphane continued to stroke him under the table, even going so far as to squeeze the bulging glans as she whispered in his ear.
"I sleep in the north tower, on the second floor landing, the door with the rose inlaid into the centre panel."
Vulkan inclined his head almost imperceptively by way of acceptance as the princess continued to discreetly milk his giant sex. Her green eyes becoming moody and smouldering as she watched one of the tiny muscles in his cheek jump in time to her urgent finger manipulations; the fecund princess hopelessly ignorant of her peril as she baited the volcanic sexual appetites of the handsome satyr.
Once safely back in his chambers Vulkan necked one of his little blue pills, then paced the floor waiting impatiently in the darkness for the great castle to quiet down and for the guards to change and begin their first round.
It had been a week of great jubilation throughout the whole kingdom whilst the tournament had run its course. The celebrations culminating in the sumptuous betrothal banquet tonight, where Leopold had formerly announced the forthcoming marriage of his only daughter to Vulkan in seven days time.
Thereafter, everyone seemed to have imbibed far too much wine, including the servants and guards. Whilst he waited, Vulkan allowed his heightened senses to roam beyond his room. Listening to the last of the royal revellers staggering unsteadily off to their chambers and later, the many body-servants making their way back down to their quarters in the lower levels of the labyrinthine keep.
The prince was just about to leave to seek out Lilliphane when he detected the smell of burning coal oil, bourn on a tiny waft of air, apparently coming from within his chambers. It took only a few moments for his sensitive nose to pinpoint the mysterious source as coming from behind a heavy wooden armoire built into an alcove at the back of his sitting room. After a few minutes careful searching, his sensitive fingers found the hidden mechanism that allowed part of the frontage to swing away, revealing an unlit passage beyond.
The prince slipped his heavy dirk down the side of his boot and stepped into the darkness. Once inside the narrow passage he stood for a moment to sniff the stale air. Someone had passed by only a few moments ago, likely bearing a burning torch and that had been the source of the coal oil he had smelt.
In the deep distance, he heard the creak of a stair and immediately set off in a pursuit that took him down toward the lower levels. Someone had placed slow-burning candles at various junctions and these left more than enough light for his sorcerer-enhanced eyes to follow with comparative ease.
Vulkan moved with wraith-like speed down the narrow adit, turning this way and that as he closed rapidly upon his quarry. Without missing a stride, he drew forth his dirk as the rank odour of a male body bloomed in his nostrils, telling him that the target was only yards ahead. Turning at the next junction, Vulkan came rushing up behind a short, rotund barrel of a man whose arms were piled high with a platter of food salvaged from the very banquet Vulkan had quit only an hour before.
In one fluid motion, the prince kicked the man in the back of the leg collapsing him on to one knee. At the same time, he clamped his hand over the greedily chewing mouth, preventing the expected shout of surprise and snapped the head backward to slap the cold blade of the dirk tight up against the taughtly drawn skin of the throat.
Ahead of the grappling pair the diminutive shape of a grull turned to hold up a brightly flaring torch, the docile face with its red, almond shaped eyes stared up at Vulkan uncomprehendingly.
"Who are you?" snapped the prince, slowly releasing his iron grip on the shaking man's lower jaw just enough for the wretch to swallow the food he was choking on before he might speak.
"I am Gargo, the dungeon master," the man finally spluttered.
"What the fuck are you doing creeping around at night in these secret passages?" demanded Vulkan, twisting the dirk into the soft flesh of his throat until a thin trickle of blood began to flow.
"Please lord prince," the man squawked in abject panic, "it's how we live, scavenging food and whatever else we can, its been that way ever since the queen made the king wall up the dungeons and me with them, I swear it!"
Vulkan released his grip on the dungeon master, spinning the stocky little man around to face him, but keeping the tip of his dirk under the nervously bobbing Adam's apple.
"You know who I am?" asked Vulkan.
"Who doesn't know Prince Vulkan? who rescued the seneschal's lady from an army of robbers and blew away the king's champion as if he were a mere squire."
Vulkan ignored the flattering hyperbole.
"How did you come by this grull?"
Gargo made a harrumphing sound, "he was left here by a wizard who came two summers ago to claim Leopold's daughter. They flogged the old goat across the drawbridge and threw this little bugger in the moat. I found him wandering about at night scavenging for food. Now he lives with me in the dungeons."
Vulkan sheathed his dirk, "show me the dungeons."
An hour later, Prince Vulkan, nude, save for a thin cross belt and pouch that held his dirk and a few items furnished by Gargo, slid back the secret door set into the ornate panelling at the rear of Princess Lilliphane's sitting room. The room was in darkness, but thanks to his heightened senses, Vulkan could see clearly in the faint candlelight that spilled under the nearby bedroom door.
The satyr cocked his head for a moment, breaking out into a lewd grin as he recognised the muffled purring of the royal slut pleasuring herself whilst she impatiently awaited his arrival.
Lilliphane lay naked on top of the bed. Her pale thighs spread wide and gleaming in the candles' glow as she stroked her stone hard clitoris. She had been masturbating ever since coming up from the banquet and was now in pursuit of her third orgasm. Her heavily bejewelled fingers and soft, brown thatch were soaked with her cum. Her mind filled with thoughts of the young Prince Vulkan mounting her with his huge phallus.
God! How she wanted him, she thought, dipping her fingers deep into the viscous softness of her vulva and spreading more of the plenteous love juices out onto her plump belly with her palm.
At thirty-five, Lilliphane had a well honed appetite for sex, having already had three husbands, including the present perverted Eldred, who seemed only able to achieve orgasm when ramming himself into her back passage.
Her first husband had been a boisterous, yet innocent young knight, who had fucked her energetically every single night for the nine months of their short marriage. Their union cut short when he had fallen from his horse, drunk and broken his neck.
Lilliphane's second husband had been a saturnine duke in late middle age who had introduced her to all things sexual during the long winter nights spent in his isolated northern keep. She still had vivid memories of her wedding night, when he had turned her over and proceeded to bugger her with a brutality that had her biting the pillow as he ruptured her never before used rectum. By the end of that first week, it had been Lilliphane who had willingly pushed up her lush young buttocks for him, her loins boiling and eager for another delicious butt fucking. The duke had died on top of her as he had lived, sodomising her whilst she fellated his younger brother.
To Lilliphane it seemed as if Vulkan simply appeared out of the darkness surrounding the high four-poster. With a groan of relief she reared up from the sweat dampened sheets, both hands reaching out to cup the prince's hugely dependent testicles. She rolled the heavy eggs together, giggling as she felt them squirm and roll within their warm sack. With reluctance she released his balls, but only to run her hands up the marble hard shaft, her giggles turning to gasps of wonder as she measured the huge length with her small hands, her fists stacking one above the other six times before arriving at the bulbous glans.
For a few brief seconds, Vulkan was content to simply stand beside the bed, his head thrown back, days of pent up sexual tension threatening to explode out of his tight belly in one uncontrolled eruption as the greedy slut fondled and cooed over his aching sex. Vulkan released a deep groan of satisfaction as Lilliphane dipped her head and struggled to take the dripping cock-head into her mouth. Her small jaws cracked softly as she strained to open her mouth to its fullest extent in order to accommodate the frightening diameter.
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.