Princess (3 page)

High-Prince Nerangarian called down an order. A guard hefted a bucket, once more dashing water over Kaissia's head, and again, then using a cloth to clear the muck from around her eyes, which came open. She looked at the cage, no longer able to hold her poise but biting her lip in apprehension. Iriel caught a whiff as a gust of wind blew towards her, the reek of dung, but with something else, a pungent musk. Then the covering had been pulled from the cage and the man-beast within was revealed, a young troll, no taller than a large man, but heavier, massive muscles rolling under coarse grey skin the texture of stone.

At the sight the tall girl beside Iriel gasped and immediately began to push forward through the crowd. Soon only the top of her head was visible, and Iriel turned her attention back to the cage. Kaissia had lost every trace of poise, her face now set in raw fear, her whole body shaking. She tried to move back as the hideous man-beast turned slowly, his nose wrinkling to her scent, his hand already on a monstrous grey cock a good three hands-breadth in length.

Kaissia tried to move back, her control slipping, only for her skin to meet the prick of swords. She glanced up, right at the High-Prince, who met her gaze with an icy stare. Again the guards prodded, forcing her forward as the two troll handlers pulled on the heavy chain attached to the man-beast's foot. It bellowed in rage, let go of its cock and snatched a grey arm out, to catch the chain and jerk, spilling both men onto their backs. Both guards went forward, one to jab at the troll, the others to haul on the chain. The crowd roared in laughter, only to fall abruptly silent.

The tall girl was on the scaffold, axe in hand. One sudden motion and Kaissia's hands were free, another and the troll cage was open, the bolt sheered through. High-Prince Nerangarian yelled out in fury, a guard turned, to meet the swing of the girls' axe and stagger back, his life saved but losing his balance to topple over the edge of the scaffold.

Shouts rang out, commands, then screams as the massive troll lumbered forward to the door of the cage. Guards moved in, but the tall girl was already on the scaffold steps, dragging Kaissia by the hand, her wild eyed companion also close. Iriel thumped her fist on the planking of the ship, an instinctive gesture being taken up by many. Others called out in anger, those close to the scaffold in fear as the great man-beast lurched forward, dragging the heavy cage behind him.

Iriel stood up on her toes, eager to see what was happening as the crowd around the scaffold dissolved into chaos, with shouts, curses and bellows mingling with the steady thumping of fists on wood or stone. All the could see was a jumble of heads, and then the troll had reached the edge of the scaffold, to slip and fall, bringing the iron cage down behind him amid fresh screams and curses.

The crowd began to press back, panic setting in. Iriel was forced hard against the ship, the breath knocked from her body. Briefly a gap opened, closing almost immediately, but not before she had caught the rail of the ship and swung herself high. A group of little yellow-brown seamen scattered in surprise as she landed on the deck. Several had their cocks out, masturbating beneath the shelter of the ships' side as they watched the shaming, and instantly the situation had changed.

Not one reached the level of her chin, yet from the lust in their eyes their intentions were obvious, or at least their hopes. She circled her fingers in an insulting gesture, hoping they would back off. None did, instead beginning to edge forward, long-fingered hands extended, faces set in lust, yet cautious. Iriel kicked out, catching one in the stomach, only to have others immediately grapple her skirts. She went down, hard, the men closing in immediately, pulling at her clothes, groping at her breasts, hard cocks prodding her through her clothing.

At the realisation she was to be ravished she went wild, fighting by instinct as she always did, with no thought for holding back, kicking and clawing, the full strength of her body in every motion. The men persisted, one climbing between her legs in an effort to force her to spread her thighs, only to catch a fist driven into his crotch. Then she was free again, lying panting on the deck, her skirt torn, one breast sticking out from the ruins of her bodice, with the men stood back, now doubtful.

Hastily she covered her chest, and even as her immediate sense of triumph begun to fade it was replaced by disappointment. She had done it, again, fought off the fair attentions of suitors, for all that they were foreign seamen. For a moment she considered some gesture of submission in the hope that they would make a proper job of her ravishment, only for instant rebellion to rise up in her mind. Cautiously, still eyeing the men, she got to her feet. She was shaking, her stomach a hard knot, the muscles around her tuppenny and bottom ring twitching. Part of her desperately wanted to surrender, to simply walk through the open door to the ships sterncastle and let them have her. Another part rebelled, yet they sensed her indecision and began to come forward once more, only to give suddenly back in fear at an angry shout from towards the quay.

Iriel turned and ducked at the same time, even as Kaissia and the barbarian girl staggered onto the deck, backwards. The tall girl was on the gangplank, swinging her axe in short, vicious strokes towards a ring of guards, yelling defiance and demands for parley. She was ignored, the guards pressing forward, slow and cautious, but with a precision and skill that could have only one end. Iriel bit her lip hard, expecting the girl to be cut down at any instant, only to realise that it was the last thing the men intended as High-Prince Nerangarian yelled an order. The girl was to be troll fucked herself, caught and ravished and troll fucked, a though that set the muscles of Iriel's tuppenny into urgent contraction.

Then as her eyes lifted, the pulsing of her sex grew stronger still. Beyond the knot of fighters, the quay was near empty, save for another ring of men by the scaffold. Among them was the dung-gatherer's daughter, Yi. The troll had caught her, and held her by the hair, bent across her father's dung barrel, her face set in horror and disgust, her breasts spilt from her torn bodice, her little round bottom bare as she was fucked from the rear. A good length of rigid grey cock protruding from the mouth of her tuppenny, even as the huge man-beast pushed in, and each time her quivering breasts dipped into the muck in the barrel. The men waited, swords drawn, ready for a lapse in the troll's concentration.

Iriel stared, her whole body tingling, imagining how the girl would feel, stripped and ravished by a troll, in front of hundreds, breasts bare, bottom bare, her tuppenny full of fat grey cock. Unable to stop herself, she put a hand to the front of her skirts, to squeeze the soft bulge of flesh beneath as she struggled to tell herself that what she was watching was an awful thing, not something she needed herself.

A great gout of jism exploded from Yi's sex as the troll came up her. The men moved in, fast, but not so fast as the troll. He whirled, jism still spurting from his cock as he lashed out, his other hand still locked hard in Yi's hair. The men gave back, cursing. The troll came forward, the cage behind him, Yi now screaming in pain and fear as she was dragged by her hair. High on the tower, High-Prince Nerangarian bellowed an order. Three guards detached themselves from the ring around the tall girl, turning to face the troll as he came forward, face set in rage and fear and confusion now that his cock was spent. He dropped Yi, who scrambled away between two guards, knocking into a third as she ran for the ship, dung tipped breasts bouncing wildly on her chest.

Abruptly the tall girl darted to one side, swinging her axe even as she moved, to slice through the hawser holding the ship to the quay. The men reacted, moving in, only to be met with vicious cuts as the girl jumped sideways, whirled as if in dance and sliced the second hawser. Immediately Iriel felt the ship move beneath her feet. She ran for the rail, only to be struck aside as the tall girl barrelled up the gangplank an instant before it slipped free of the quay.

The little yellow-brown seaman had vanished, and no surprise. The tall girl stood on the deck, legs braced, face set in wild, triumphant glee, the bloody axe clutched in her hands. Iriel backed away, sure the girl was mad and determined to jump from the ship. Yet as she pulled herself up, she saw they were already moving away from the quay, with at least two man heights of open water between hull and dry land. Her resolve faltered at the thought of her heavy dress, then broke as the troll waded into the guards, flailing and snatching at them, to force them back despite High-Prince Nerangarian's screamed demands that they fight. The High-Prince was also pointing at the ship, his voice hoarse with anger. The tall girl answered him with an insulting gesture and a flourish of her axe.

Iriel backed quickly away, sure that at any instant the seamen would rush the deck, the tall girl strike her down in blind rage, the High-Prince summon up archers to the harbour wall. To jump was madness, to remain on deck madness, to hide in the sterncastle madness…

Her heel clicked on something hard, metallic. Looking down she saw the inset ring of a hatch. She snatched it up, desperate for a haven, any haven. Inside was darkness, a mere hole, no steps, no ladder. Hesitant, she glanced around, only for an arrow to slam into the woodwork of the sterncastle. No longer hesitant, she dropped, kicking her feet out for support, finding none, hanging by her hands, one toe touching wood. She dropped, onto bare planking. Above her the hatch fell shut with a click.

Silence enveloped her, warmth and darkness, rich with a sweet, musky perfume. Even as she recognised it as the scent of bull-nymph the urge to spread her legs for fucking rose up. She fought it down, telling herself it would not happen, it could not happen, yet horribly aware of the wet sensation between her thighs, the stiffness of her nipples, the gentle pulsing of her tuppenny and bottom ring. She wanted fucking, she needed fucking. Her spanking, Kaissia's shaming, Yi's fucking, the sights and sounds of the fighting were all coming together to bring her to a heat she had never experienced before, and now there was the tang of nymph musk. She groaned aloud, struggling to think clearly, of how she would escape the ship, return to shore, to be caught, spanked, pilloried, ravished…

It was going to happen, anyway, and as her will began to weaken she caught a faint noise, scraping, a faint excited chittering, a wet slapping sound. Abruptly the scent grew stronger. Iriel let out a sob, now fighting to keep her thighs tight. Again the chittering sounded, closer. She jumped to one side, to touch against something soft, alive, which moved quickly away. Once more there was silence.

Iriel threw her head back, her eyes closed, mumbling prayers to her mother, her grandmothers, her father, as her resistance slipped away. The softest of voices came back, whispering into her brain, telling her to abandon herself, and another, screaming thinly for resistance, and a third, more, until her head was filled with the clamour of voices. She was clutching her temples in an agony of emotion as she slumped down, her back to the bulkhead, her thighs up and wide, her tuppenny spread.

Again the soft chittering began, and again the meaty slapping noise she now recognised as cocks being brought to erection. She realised that there was not one bull-nymph, but many, crouched around her in the darkness, cocks in hand, waiting for her resistance to snap, maybe eight… maybe ten… maybe twelve… maybe enough to ravish her by sheer force for all their small size.

With that thought a last flicker of pride rose and died in her head. With one hard tug she pulled her bodice open. Another and her breasts were free of her chemise, full and round and sensitive in her hands. She gripped her skirt, hauling it high, the petticoat too, and split her drawers, pulling them wide to show off the wet, eager mouth of her tuppenny.

Even as she caught her own sex-scent, so did the nymphs. The chittering rose in volume, to a gleeful crescendo. Iriel moaned, taking her breasts in hand as she slid to the planking, thighs spread wide, her hole already in contraction, running juice, open and eager for fucking. Hands touched her, uncertain at first, then more eagerly as she responded with a low, helpless moan. They gripped her legs and her lifted clothes. Hands took her breasts, pulling her own from the soft flesh, to caress and knead. A mouth found one of her nipples, sucking eagerly on the taut bud. Her head was taken, gripped by her hair, twisted, and a firm, fleshy cock was fed into her gaping mouth. Immediately she begun to suck, eagerly swallowing down the musky cock taste, too far gone even the feel shame.

They came between her thighs, no longer fearful. Small, lithe bodies jostled for position, for her tuppenny, none able to enter her for the others. She reached down, still sucking wantonly on the cock in her mouth. Taking one small body, she pulled him close. His cock bumped her tuppenny, rubbing in the fleshy folds above her maiden hole to send a sharp jolt of pure pleasure the length of her spine. She arched her back, pushing out her tuppenny for penetration, now an eager participant in her own ravishing.

The one in her mouth came, tugging his cock free at the last instant to ejaculate in her face, thick, musky jism splashing across her cheek and into one eye. She caught at his cock, to take it back in her mouth and suck down the rich, salty juice, now wanton, desperate to have her tuppenny filled. Sure enough, as the one in her mouth slid away the bulbous cock head between her legs pushed at her tight little hole. Her mouth came wide in rapture, her whole being focussing on the pressure against her hole as it rose to pain, revelling in the glorious moment her maidenhead was torn wide…

…only for the cock to slip in her juice, downwards, to be thrust solidly up into her bottom ring. She was slimy, and her anus gave, ringing a gasp of shock from her lips at the sudden pain. It was in though, her bottom penetrated, and the cock inside jamming deeper. Struggling, determined to have her tuppenny filled, she tried to reach down. Immediately her arms were taken, pulled onto erect cocks, her fingers folded around the thick shafts. Eager hands snatched her hair, another was cock forced into her mouth. Still she wriggled, squirming her bottom on the intruding penis even though it was too late, the nymph pushing his cock deeper and deeper up into her sloppy hole, inch by inch, filling her rectum. She felt herself bloat, but as the bruising pain begun to die, so an overwhelming, dirty pleasure rose up in her. There was a last flicker of self-disgust and she found herself bucking on the erection in her bottom.