EXTRACT FOR Revenge of the Satyr (Author Unknown)
Chapter 1
The panic stricken peasant fell to his knees, both hands clasped together imploringly. His whole body began to shake jelly-like as Prince Vulkan slowly dismounted from his horse. The haughty young nobleman's handsome, yet spiteful face creased up into a vindictive frown as he advanced upon the hapless figure.
"How dare you withhold tax from the king you filthy, whingeing swine," the short-tempered prince screamed at the top of his voice. Punctuating his harsh words with a hail of withering blows from his riding quirt; lacing into the miller's face with the supple, stinging leather until the sobbing man threw himself prostrate into the dirt at the nobleman's feet.
"Mercy! Highness! Mercy!" the man begged wretchedly, "the drought has made the river all but disappear and without water the mill wheel will not turn and so I cannot earn enough to feed my family and pay the king's taxes," the miller's voice became even more wretched, "please Highness, I beg you and your gracious father to give me more time to pay."
The slender prince's narrow chest seemed to swell with an even greater volume of outrage.
"More time? more time? have you no beasts of burden with which to turn the mill wheel you indolent pig?" he roared, at the same time planting his boot into the back of the miller's neck, cruelly grinding the terrified, blubbering face into the dank earth.
"P-p-please Highness," the miller begged again, his voice quavering so much he could barely speak, "we had to slaughter our only bullock for meat and now I have only my wife and daughter to help me in the mill."
Prince Vulkan took time-out to look slowly around the small collection of tumbledown buildings and ramshackle yard. His mobile, twisting expression a cruel parody of confusion and indecision that instantly had his men smirking and nudging one another as they enjoyed their master's sinister sense of humour.
"Well then," the noble youth breathed at last, "let us get both of the lazy peasant sows out here and we shall see how well they turn the wheel with my whip dancing across their idle backs!"
Vulkan nodded curtly to his sergeant-at-arms; a barrel-chested giant of a man, who immediately disappeared into the nearby cottage to emerge a few moments later dragging the two terrified woman behind him, his huge fists buried in their tangled hair.
"On your knees before Prince Vulkan you mangy sluts," growled the lackey, pitching both females face down into the dirt as he spoke.
The prince slapped his quirt under the wife's quivering chin and jerked her face up to the sky. The woman may have once been enough, but after twenty odd years of over-taxed poverty and unending toil, her face was lined and tired looking and the sagging bundle of her bosom seemed almost to reach down to her waist. Allowing the mother's head to fall, Vulkan next tapped the plaited haft of his quirt under the daughter's chin and was pleasantly surprised to find a fresh and decidedly pretty face suddenly looking up at him, fear and uncertainty writ clearly in the cast of the large, moist brown eyes.
"Stand up trollop," the prince commanded, his voice softening subconsciously as all thoughts of putting the young girl to the mill wheel faded. His erstwhile peevish mood suddenly began to mellow. The girl climbed hesitantly to her feet to stand fidgeting - gnawing fretfully at the fulsome redness of her lips. She averted her doe-like eyes as the prince lifted her homespun calico dress to expose her shapely teenage thighs; the smooth, pale flesh leading his lascivious gaze inevitably up to the downy pubic mound with its delicate, tightly sealed lips nestling below the gently curving dome of her belly.
"Very well, sirrah," the prince said at last, his rage finally subsiding, "I will grant you more time to pay. But that time and my father's inconvenience must be paid for by an afternoon's use of your charming daughter here."
The miller's voice, whether in protest, or relief, simply came out as a strangled gurgle as Vulkan continued to stand uncaringly on his neck.
Flashing a generous smile the prince turned to his grinning men.
"Tie the stupid old bastard up to yonder gatepost and flog some respect into him," he said, beginning to drag the reluctant teenager off toward the nearby barn, "and then you lot can fuck some happiness into the girl's mother, she looks as if she could sorely use it."
As he spoke the miller's wife began to wail hysterically, her head shaking wildly from side-to-side. The terrified woman suddenly leapt to her feet and ran from man-to-man, imploring each grinning soldier to show her mercy. Her cries suddenly turned to shrieks of horror however, as a pair of laughing troopers began to pull her this way and that between them, ripping her already shoddy dress into long tatters. Exposing her swaying udders and broad, dimpled rump as they suddenly pounced upon her and dragged her howling back into the mill for the first of that afternoon's many fuckings.
The laughing prince closed the barn door behind him and turned to face the girl who stood paralysed. She stared mutely at him, her small fingers clutching at the neck and hem of her baggy peasant smock.
"We will lie over there," he said, indicating a fresh pile of straw in the corner, "take off your dress so that I can see what you have for me."
The girl shook her head slowly from side-to-side and backed up a step.
"Please," she whimpered, "please let me go master." Her voice sounded small in the large barn and the pathetic sound of it brought the first serious twitch of interest from the prince's slowly swelling cock.
The noble smiled coldly at her.
"If you give me any trouble slut," he threatened, his voice once again taking on a brittle, menacing edge, "I'll turn you over to my men for a taste of what your miserable parents are getting."
As he spoke, the crack of the first lash ripping into her father's back echoed across the yard. Followed immediately by his high-pitched scream as the flesh over his ribs was split apart by the coarse leather tongue of the big sergeant's bullwhip. The hellish sound made the girl flinch and after a brief moment of agonised indecision, she dropped her hands slowly to her sides. A dread feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed her as she resigned herself to her fate. She watched mesmerized as the prince stripped off his rich garments, exposing his slender, pale body to her until finally he stood naked, his cock sticking straight out from the fuzz of blonde pubic hair. The girl had never seen an erect penis before and the strangeness of it filled her young mind with profound disquiet.
Hissing impatiently, Vulkan took hold of the neck of her peasant dress and tore the flimsy garment straight down the centre, casting away the ruined material so that she finally stood nude before him.
The greedy nobleman gathered the girl to him, crushing her lithe body against his own so that he could feel her softness. He swayed slowly from side-to-side so that her budding, pink nipples raked across his chest. He groaned as he ground his cock against the silky smoothness of her belly, at the same time burying his face in her hair to inhale the tart, earthy freshness of her.
The girl hung frozen against him, allowing herself to be supported in his arms as he groaned and rubbed himself against her for several long moments. She uttered a low, mournful croak as she felt the stickiness of the pre-ejaculate weeping from his cock-slit smear across the flesh of her quivering abdomen as he continued to grind himself against her. Her fearful moans turning into a yelp of alarm as the prince wound his hand into the rich tangle of her hair and pulled her head back so that he could cover her lips with his own.
However, the girl stubbornly refused to allow his tongue into her mouth, clenching her jaws tightly together. Testily, Vulkan wrenched the girl's head back as far as it would go and slapped her hard across both cheeks, making her cry out as her head was snapped back and forth so hard her teeth seemed to rattle in their sockets.
Again Vulkan offered the girl his mouth, at the same time wrapping the fingers of his other hand around the slender column of her neck, squeezing to let her know that his patience were all but at an end.
Realising that she did not have the strength to resist him any further the girl allowed her lips to part. She whinnied like frightened foal as his tongue pushed its way into her softly yielding mouth and began its serpent-like exploration of her sweet palate. At the same time the Prince walked her slowly backward until she stood knee deep in the hay pile and then he bore down on her, tripping her with his foot behind hers so that she fell backward ? legs akimbo. He fell with her, landing neatly between her thighs, his urgent glans already butting up against the tightly sealed entrance to her nether mouth.
"Please sir," the girl whispered against the side of his neck, her voice breathless with her panic as he took hold of his stiff shaft and began to force the head between the tightly drawn curtains of her outer labia. And then, the final pathetic entreaty, "have pity noble lord - I am a virgin."
To the corrupt Prince Vulkan, the heady combination of the girl's manifest fear of him, her unblemished youthful pulchritude and finally, her anguished confirmation that she was virgo intacta was a totally intoxicating mix. As such, it could only serve to aggravate his already galloping sexual appetite. The young nobleman levered himself up on to his right arm so that he could look down into her face.
"What a priceless little slut you are my dear," he murmured and pursing his thin lips let fall a long strand of spittle on to the tip of her upturned nose, giggling with delight as the clear liquid coursed down over her pink cheek. He hung there, savouring her terrified expression, the quivering vermilion lips, the flushed complexion and the soft brown eyes - huge and brimming with tears.
"Absolutely priceless." As he uttered the last mocking syllable, he thrust forward as hard as he could. Embedding the first third of his shaft in the girl's incredibly tight sheath, wrenching a tortured wail from her as her hymen was ripped away. Quickly, he took hold of her shoulders and transferred his entire weight to his arms, pinning her torso down into the hay, pumping his hips until he was fully embedded within her. Again he paused to enjoy her expression: now one of total desolation as she turned her face to the side and closed her eyes to the pain. Her small, white teeth buried in her lower lip until the blood ran and her tiny hands clutching at his forearms as he began to batter madly at her sex. He was heedless of her pain as his lean, hard hips bruised the softness of her inner thighs as he sought to quench his desperately selfish need.
The prince was neither a powerful, nor a long lasting youth and soon attained his climax. Grunting out his pleasure in a few short, sharp gasps as his thin semen jetted out to fill the girls small, brutalised vagina. His fluids blending with the thin streams of blood issuing from the shredded flesh of her sundered hymen.
With a satisfied groan, the now sated youth rolled off the girl and settled back into the hay, his cock soon becoming flaccid and useless. As his ardour cooled, the youth clasped his hands behind his head and regarded the girl closely from beneath his closely drawn eyelids. He was looking for any signs of mockery on her part, for in truth he knew that he was not well endowed and to that particular shortcoming he had an over developed sensitivity. A sensitivity rammed into him over many miserable years by the taunts of his three bullying half-brothers.
All of the older boys took after their father, the heavy bodied King Harken. Whereas Vulkan favoured his mother, a small boned, flaxen haired creature that the king had taken as his second wife after the death of the old Queen Helga. His father had married Vulkan's mother only because of the land she brought with her as dowry and neither she, nor the skinny Vulkan had ever enjoyed the king's fullest favours. Hence Vulkan was detailed to spend most of the year travelling around the small kingdom, collecting his father's taxes and partaking, whenever the opportunity arose, of perks like those offered by the common little slut now weeping miserably beside him.
Satisfied that the girl had been suitably impressed by his vigour, Vulkan closed his eyes and began to doze off. A small smile of contentment playing across his lips at the sounds of his men's laughter drifting over from the cottage where the girl's mother was continuing to provide sport.
As the inattentive prince slumbered carelessly, a cloaked and hooded figure stole surreptitiously from the forest edge to make its way to the barn, behind the backs of the troopers who were intent only upon taking their turns to rape the hapless miller's wife.
Once inside, the mysterious interloper worked quickly and silently, casting a fine sleeping mist over the girl, as she lay shocked and trembling in the hay. The potion stifling her scream before it could rise in her throat to rouse the slumbering prince. Next he wafted a tiny glass bottle under the youth's nostrils and began to whisper in his ear in a strange sibilant tongue, until presently, the young prince arose slack jawed and heedless of his nakedness to follow the mysterious figure back into the forest from whence it had come.
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