WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.
Author: A Strange Geek
Title: The Pilfered Princess
Summary: An evil sorcerer kidnaps a princess in his bid for conquest,
but gets a lot more than he bargained for. A humorous sendup of formula
fantasy stories.
Part: 3 of 5
Keywords: MF, M+F, FF, oral, nc, bon, tort, rough, magic, parody, humor
Copyright A Strange Geek, 2005
Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )
Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:
/~A_Strange_Geek/novels/PilferedPrincess/Part3.html
---------------
The sun again rose in its magnificent golden splendor across the
lands of the Kingdom of Light, it's rays gently caressing the King's
palace, arousing the members of the court out of their nightly slumber,
until the castle itself swelled and quivered with the renewed passion
to set about the day's tasks, which was sure to end in a climax of
satisfaction of a job well done.
The King, however, preferred to sleep in, letting the others carry
on the business of the Kingdom, so that by the time he did stir, he
needed but to stamp the royal seal on whatever had been decided upon.
This was the proper way to run a Kingdom. By not taking on the details
of day-to-day running of the Kingdom, he could never be accused of
being a tyrant, and Kings who are not tyrants are rarely overthrown.
Yet this morning he was roused early by a most impolite banging on his
chamber door.
"Ugh ... who is it?" the King growled, bleary-eyed as he stirred
from his bed.
"It is I, Joy, your Right Hand of Virtue!" came the reply from the
other side of the door.
"Bloody well figures," the King grumbled. He sighed and forced
himself to rise from his bed, grabbing a robe and closing it around his
thick frame. "Enter!"
Joy let herself in, looking quite harried. In one hand she was
carrying another slightly singed, dark parchment, it's seal of the Dark
Lord still intact upon it. The other hand held a simple white scroll.
The King eyed the parchment. "Another missive from the Dark Lord,
eh?" he said.
"Yes, your Majesty," Joy said, wrinkling her nose as someone else
might do at an open sewer. She held it out to him, gripping it by only
one corner, and only with thumb and forefinger. "Forgive me for not
opening it and reading it first, your Majesty."
The King smirked and took the letter from her. Joy hastily shook
her hand and wiped her fingers on her robe with a look of disgust, as
if she had touched something slimy. He gave her an odd look, glancing
over the letter as if expecting gobs of goo to be covering it. When he
found nothing, he shrugged and proceeded to break the seal and unfold
the letter. "Ah, this describes what they intend to do to Sarah today
because I failed to bring down the Barrier."
"Oh, my ..." Joy said shakily, looking about to faint anyway.
"Hrm ... a bit cramped, that would be, yes ... " King Beneficus
muttered as he read the letter. " ... now those would be rather nasty
... not the brightest brutes in the lot, either ... wonder how they got
so many of them ... heh, that will be a work-out, aye wot?" he
chuckled. He folded the letter up and tossed it aside.
Joy looked deathly pale, her eyes wide. "Is it ... i-is it as
horrible as I believe it is?"
"I sincerely doubt that," the King said with a small smile.
Joy appeared to relax. "Oh, good, your Majesty," she said. "Perhaps
they have decided to go a little easy on her."
What the King did not tell her was that he did not think it was as
horrible as she believed because she was incapable of believing
anything that horrible. Nevertheless, it was nothing that he felt his
daughter could not deal with, reminding himself that she once
"entertained" the entirety of the ceremonial guard. "So is that all,
Joy?" the King asked.
"No, your Majesty," Joy said in a more somber tone of voice as she
took the scroll in both hands. "I am afraid there is a problem."
"So long as it is not with the Barrier ..." the King said warily.
"Oh, no, your Majesty!"
"Still up and as strong as ever?"
"Indeed, your Majesty."
"Jolly good. Then whatever this is, it can't be all bad."
"Oh, but I am afraid it is," Joy said. She unrolled the scroll. "I
have had a great deal of trouble trying to create your Army of Light."
"Ah, yes, my army," the King said with a small smirk. "And what
have you managed to scare up?"
"Not much, I fear." She turned her eyes to the scroll. "30
swordsmen, 18 knights, 10 archers, 2 wizards, and one catapult. A small
one."
"Hrm. Only one catapult, eh?"
"A small one, your Majesty. And that's only if the catapulter's
rash clears up."
"Huh. Well, I suppose that will have to do, then."
Joy stared at him. "But, your Majesty ..."
"Yes, Joy?" King Beneficus said with an ingratiating smile.
"That is not enough! We need more. You must issue a call-to-arms!"
The King frowned. "You wish me to conscript an army to fight the
Dark Lord?"
"I am sure once you tell the people what we need it for, they will
..."
"Think I've gone bloody daft is what they'll do!" the King
declared. "No, Joy, what we have will just have to do."
Joy sighed. "All right, then," she said. "I have no choice, now, do
I?"
"Er ... no choice about what?"
She rolled up the scroll and tucked it under an arm. "I must
personally lead the army into battle."
The King blinked. "Come again?"
"With such a small army, your Majesty, the only way they can
succeed against the evil forces of the Dark Lord is if they are led by
someone like me, so that they may be blessed with the benevolent
influence of the divine."
"Ah ... right," King Beneficus said, though he was dubious about
what kind of divine influence she truly had, considering that she was
assigned down here rather than in afterlife. She was, after all, not
quite a real angel. The job of guardian angel was not exactly a highly
sought-after position, from what he knew. "Uh .... you're quite sure
you want to do this?"
"Yes, your Majesty," Joy said. "Angels have traditionally led the
charge against all manner of evil forces. There has never been a case
of an army led by an angel losing the battle."
"Is that so?" the King said dubiously.
"Indeed, your Majesty. Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare
the army and myself to march on the Dark Lord's Tower of Doom by
daybreak tomorrow. By that time, your daughter should be safely on her
way back to the Kingdom."
"Ah, good," said the King in a neutral voice. "I take it that
Smeltap as set out already?"
"/Smidlar/, your Majesty. Yes, he has. He should be at the Tower by
dusk."
"Ah. Smashing. Well, run along, Joy, and good luck."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Joy said with a small smile before
ducking out of the room.
The King shook his head as he closed the door to his chamber. He
had to admit that the girl had spunk. She really took all this guardian
angel stuff seriously. A real credit to her kind. He was sure he would
miss her after she was gone.
Not that he necessarily expected her to be killed. It was simply
this: the Barrier was not coming down for anything. Everyone that
wanted to leave the Kingdom on this silly lark seemed to miss the point
that when one leaves the Kingdom, the only way back in is to lower the
Barrier for the person to pass. And the King had no intention of doing
any such thing, not after the Dark Lord has been harassed not by just
one lunatic who was daft enough to want to marry his daughter (which
was reason enough not to let him back in) but by an angel-led army.
He sighed. Oh well. He could only hope that the Dark Lord would
eventually give up and stop "torturing" his daughter.
Princess Sarah could feel her heart pounding in her chest, each
beat punctuated by a dull throb of lingering ache from her nipples and
sex, both of which still appeared slightly red from the torture she
received the day before. The only sound was that of her own ragged
breathing as she struggled to contain the panic that threatened to rise
up from deep within her mind, and the occasional creaking noise of the
heavy chain above her head as she swung slightly back and forth above
the stone floor of the dungeon chamber.
This time, the Princess had been given no explanation of her fate
that day. The incubus simply refused to speak to her at all, reserving
what little words he did speak for his guards. She had been taken from
her room to this chamber, where she had been forced into a very slim,
circular cage. So cramped was the cage that she could only remain
standing straight, barely able to lift her arms. The cage was lifted
from the floor by a heavy chain, suspending her in her tiny prison
several feet in the air. Then, Inferno and the two guards had simply
left her.
It could not have been more than a candlemark since she had been
imprisoned in this manner, yet she already ached to stretch her limbs.
The cage was so confining that it became a fear in and of itself,
rather than anything they might do to her. She could feel a dull ache
in her nether regions, where the tender flesh of her sex still throbbed
with lingering discomfort from her torture the day before. She kept
glancing towards the door, expecting perhaps the Dark Lord's torturer
to return with some new form of torment. Or perhaps they simply
intended to leave her this way, trapped and helpless, until she begged
for someone to release her.
Princess Sarah uttered a short gasp as she was surprised by a heavy
metallic thud from somewhere beneath the floor. The next moment, her
cage began to shake, making her heart leap into her throat, as a loud
rumbling noise drowned out the sound of her own breathing. Looking past
the bars of her cage, her eyes opened wide in surprise and renewed fear
as the floor split and began opening beneath her. A breath of warm yet
clammy air wafted up from the yawning opening, making her shift
restlessly in her cage, her nose wrinkling as a pungent, musky odor was
drawn into her nostrils.
Her cage jerked abruptly, dropping a handspan, banging her against
the confining bars. There was a metallic clinking sound as her cage was
lowered into the dark pit that had opened up beneath her feet. The air
grew quickly warm around her body, the odor permeating her nose so
strongly that she strained her face against the bars in a vain attempt
at finding fresh air. She panted, feeling as if she were suffocating,
as the smell of old perspiration and unwashed bodies grew ever thicker,
the air more cloying and sticky, until her own body was bathed in
sweat.
Princess Sarah's heart thundered, and she first glanced up in
distress at the receding dungeon cell, and then down in despair towards
whatever was awaiting her. The air seemed to become a miasma around
her, the steamy air clinging to her naked body, coating it in a sheen
of clammy moisture mixing with her own. She could see little but an
undefined dimness below her, and darkness immediately surrounding her.
Then out of the sodden air she heard noises from below her. A
nearly unintelligible, muttering in guttural, growling speech,
punctuated by animal-like grunts and snorts. Princess Sarah tensed, her
eyes wide as the sounds grew more distinct, and the smell grew
increasingly musky and overpowering, making her feel lightheaded. She
dropped her eyes downward slowly, afraid of what she would see, and
when her gaze did penetrate the dimness, her breath caught in her
throat.
Below her, lit only by feeble, flicking torches, was a large
natural cavern. Shuffling around the bottom of the cavern where
creatures that made her spine tingle in icy fear. They were cave
trolls, large, brutish beast-men with hulking man-like bodies of
frightful strength, yet with large-browed eyes that held little if any
true intelligence. They were creatures driven purely by need, such as
food and sex. And from the many large bones scattered about the ground,
picked completely clean, it was obvious that of the two, food was not
going to be a major concern.
Princess Sarah panicked as her cage approached the top of the
chamber, moments away from being seen. She looked around her
desperately for a way out. She pushed at the bars in front of her, her
cage comprised of two pieces padlocked together. The locks would not
give, and she succeeded only in making sufficient rattling noises that
one of the trolls below her grunted an interrogative and glanced up.
"/FEMALE!/" the troll bellowed, pointing a thick finger upwards.
"Oh gods!" Princess Sarah cried.
The shout had attracted nearly a score of the horrible creatures,
all clamoring around under the hole in the ceiling of their world
through which the cage now steadily descended, many taking up the same
chant. They piled into each other in a frenzy, pushing and elbowing
each other aside, growing more rowdy and excited as her cage dropped.
As she drew closer, she caught a glimpse of their increasing lust as
thick, bulbous phalluses rose to stiffness between their legs, veins
along their length pulsing with obscene anticipation.
"No!" Sarah cried. "No, please!"
Her cries went unheeded, the beast-men groping their beefy hands at
the air, catching the bottom of her cage, causing the Princess to gasp
as she was tossed about like a feather in a windstorm, banged against
the bars on one side and the other. As she dropped further amongst the
mass of now manic, sex-crazed trolls, they groped frantically at the
bars of her cage, their small brains trying to understand exactly how
they were supposed to get at this delectable female that that was
dropping atop them. Sarah shrank back from them, terror in her eyes,
flinching when one managed to touch her with a single, rough finger.
Finally the trolls grew frustrated, and they resorted to what they
knew best: brute force.
They grabbed the cage by the bars on either side and pulled. The
bars held, yet the padlocks, under Princess Sarah's horrified eyes,
cracked, bent, and then snapped completely, the cage flying apart into
two pieces.
Princess Sarah made a desperate lunge for freedom. A huge arm
caught her around the waist, and she was pulled into the seething mass
of beast-men. Huge hands the size of her head grasped her by the hips,
lifting her into the air. She looked behind her, and saw the
grotesquely thick and pulsing rod that lay between the beast's loins,
and the look of pure, animal-like lust in the creatures dull eyes.
The Princess screamed as the phallus impaled her, stretching her
intimate folds as it sank into her helpless body.
The sun beat down unrelentingly upon the parched lands, a cloud of
dust rising high and wide behind the thundering hoof beats. In the
distance, the heat shimmered from the endless sands and scrub, broken
only by the occasional cactus and bleached bones of an animal or
hapless explorer. The road itself was little more than a bare strip
through the scraggly desert grasses. Directly ahead, the land fell away
abruptly, and the road simply ended.
Smidlar the Brave straightened up in his saddle and pulled back on
the reins. He slowed his faithful steed as they approached the cliff
edge, the dust slowly settling in their wake. He brought the beast to
the very edge and turned him sideways, bringing him to a halt. Casting
his steely gaze downward, he looked into the yawning chasm that was
Devil's Canyon. From the canyon floor rose craggy spikes of solid rock.
In cracks along the edges of the canyon grew small clumps of spiny,
dark green plants whose needles held the deadliest poison known in the
lands. Far below a narrow stream tricked through the deepest depths of
the canyon, stained a vile green color from the stinging acids secreted
by the dreaded eelsharks that inhabited its waters.
Smidlar smiled, finding in himself no fear as he gazed upon this
natural gauntlet of hazards too difficult for all but the most powerful
wizards to cross safely. He lifted his eyes further, shielding his eyes
with his hand, as he looked past the canyon to the far side, where even
the meager vegetation of the desert gave way to vast wasteland. Far in
the distance, shimmering and dancing in the thermals, rose the erect
form of the Tower of Doom. Here again, he found no fear within his
heart, even as he considered the ultimate aim of his quest.
How many men in the past have come to this point, he wondered,
wishing to take on the Dark Lord, only to turn back because there was
no apparent way across the canyon? There were no towns anywhere this
far out into the desert, no major trade routes, nothing for many, many
leagues in either direction. This was the only road to stretch into the
wastelands around the Dark Lord's stronghold. Yet here it came to an
abrupt end, and as he focused his gaze to the other side, it picked
right up at the other cliff edge and wound off into the distance
towards the Tower. Yet somehow the Dark Lord's minions had traveled
across these same lands after they had kidnapped the Princess. How did
they get across?
"How indeed," Smidlar said with a smarmy grin as he dismounted. He
stepped up to the edge and gazed across to the other side, then down
into the chasm. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a small stone
near his foot. He bent down and picked it up, hefted it in his hand a
few times, then threw it into the canyon.
It sailed in an arc from his hand, but instead of falling into the
chasm and out of sight, it suddenly appeared to bounce off something
unseen, roll a few arm lengths, and come to a stop, hanging apparently
in mid-air.
Moments later, the illusion spell broken, the rope-and-plank bridge
spanning the chasm shimmered into view.
"Quite clever, Mallevelus," Smidlar said with a smug grin. "But not
quite clever enough."
He pulled himself back up into the saddle, gave his horse a kick
and a jerk on the reins, and slowly guided him across the creaking
bridge.
Inferno was in a much more pleasant mood as he headed up to the
Dark Lord's chamber, having witnessed the Princess' initial moments in
the dreaded Troll Cave. He wished he had thought of using it sooner.
Just short of the chamber, his master's voice came booming forth
from the open door.
"And now, my new subjects, you are entering a new era, an era that
will be filled with promise. A promise of endless misery, unrelenting
toil, and utter despair for all of you until the end of time! Insert
maniacal laughter h ... oh ... " He began laughing, thunder shaking the
rafters.
Inferno's lips twisted into a small smirk as he climbed the
remaining stairs and entered the chamber.
The Dark Lord stopped laughing and looked back down to his
parchment, catching sight of the incubus out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh, Inferno, just the man," he said, turning towards him. "Here, give
an ear to this next part and tell me what you think ... (ahem) And do
not think for a moment that your suffering will someday insure a better
future for your profanity!"
Inferno raised an eyebrow.
"For my rule is absolute and timeless, and your children, and your
children's children, and your children's children's children, and your
chi ..." the Dark Lord paused and scratched his head. "Hmm. Now why
would I be concerned about how their descendants swear?"
Inferno stepped up to his master and snatched the parchment from
his hands. "I believe that's meant to be /progeny/, my Lord," he said
patiently.
"Ah! Yes, that makes so much more sense."
"And if I may be so utterly bold, my Lord," Inferno said gently,
"as to suggest that you stop at children's children."
"You think so? I do want to emphasize the point, you see. Their
descendants having as bad a time of it as they and all that."
"Indeed, my Lord, but going all the way down to children's
children's children's children's children's children's children's
children is a bit much. You don't want to lose your audience, after
all."
"Quite right, quite right." The Dark Lord scratched out a few lines
with his quill. "So, Inferno, how fares the Princess?"
Inferno smiled evilly. "I believe, my Lord, I have things quite in
hand."
"Excellent, Inferno, excellent! Did you rape her then?"
Inferno had to really concentrate to refrain from bristling. "No,
my Lord, I did not," he said curtly. "And, frankly, I truly do not
understand why that is considered the be-all and end-all of torture
around here."
"Oh, well, if you feel you can't do it because ... well, you know."
"Know what, my Lord?"
"You know ... your, ah, orientation."
Inferno clenched his teeth. "My Lord, must we go through that
again?!" he thundered. "I have made it quite clear what my
/orientation/ is!"
"Of course! Certainly!" the Dark Lord said quickly. "But if it was
a problem, I'd understand, that's all I'm saying."
Inferno took a deep breath. "Should we perhaps check in on this
Smidlar person, my Lord?" he said with a steely voice of forced calm.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, good idea." Mallevelus stepped over to his farseeing
mirror and waved a hand over it. The mists swirled within and an image
of the golden-haired man appeared. He stood at the edge of a chasm,
dismounted from his horse, looking across its depths.
"Devil's Canyon," Inferno said.
"Think he'll figure it out?" the Dark Lord said with a smirk.
"I could not say, my Lord," Inferno said. Which was true. He could
not say what he wanted to say, which was that he hoped he would puzzle
over it for a few moments, shrug, and then turn back.
"Ah, look," Mallevelus said, pointing.
The man had picked up a stone, and after a brief pause, fired it
straight ahead of him into the chasm. Inferno sighed as he saw the
stone bounce, stop, and the bridge appear. /Bugger,/ Inferno thought.
/A clever one. Just what we need./
The Dark Lord chuckled wickedly. "That's right, Smidlar the
so-called Brave! Come to me. Come to my domain. Come meet your doom!"
"Your pardon, my Lord," Inferno said quickly before his master
could begin laughing diabolically again. "But would it not be easier to
simply snap one of the ropes of the bridge from here and send him to
his doom now?"
"Oh, come now, Inferno, where is your sense of sport?" the Dark
Lord said. "Anyone can do that!"
"Well, you could time it to send him into the water," Inferno
suggested. "He might survive the fall and then you could have the
pleasure of hearing his screams as the acids in the river slowly
dissolve him."
For a hopeful moment, it appeared the Dark Lord considered this.
But then he shook his head. "No, Inferno, I much prefer for him to meet
his demise at my hands. So much more satisfying that way."
Inferno inwardly sighed. "As you wish, my Lord."
The Dark Lord waved away the image in the mirror, causing it to go
dark. "It will be awhile before he gets to the Tower," he said. "More
than enough time to continue practicing my speeches. Care to stay and
listen, Inferno?"
"Ah ... no, my Lord, I have urgent business. Organizing your army
and such, you see."
Mallevelus grinned wickedly. "And tending to the Princess, no
doubt. Oh, how I envy you, Inferno!"
"Indeed?"
"Quite so. You know, I was quite the torturer myself in my day,
I'll have you know, before I became the Dark Lord. Sometimes I quite
miss that, you know? To hear the screams you know you've inflicted
directly yourself. It just gives one a real sense of satisfaction, a
job well done."
"Er, yes, well," Inferno said, shifting nervously. He hated it when
his master waxed nostalgic like this. "Perhaps the next Princess we
take you may ..."
The Dark Lord sighed dramatically. "Oh, hellfire, you know there
won't be a next time, not after I conquer the Kingdom of Light. There
won't be any more princesses to kidnap any longer." He looked at
Inferno. "Perhaps I should avail myself of this opportunity with
Princess Sarah ..."
Inferno made a face. The last thing he needed was the Dark Lord
trying his hand at torturing someone whom he fancied. "I do not think
that would be wise, my Lord," he said carefully.
"Well, why not? I can't be /that/ rusty at it!"
"Oh, not at all, my Lord," Inferno said quickly. "In fact ... ah,
you may be too good at it."
Mallevelus paused. "Too good, Inferno?"
"Too good, my Lord."
Another pause. Then a small smile came to his face. "Well ... I was
rather ruthless, you know."
"Certainly, my Lord."
"Never granted anyone any mercy whatsoever."
"Of course not, my Lord."
"And we do want her to remain alive, certainly."
"Definitely, my Lord," Inferno said. "And might I remind my most
Dark and Diabolical Master that even though there will be no
princesses, there will most certainly be buxom young underground
resistance leaders."
"Yes. Yes, indeed!" the Dark Lord exclaimed, his eyes glittering.
"And they are frightfully tougher than a mere princess!"
"And you certainly want a challenge, my Lord," Inferno said with a
small smile.
"Right you are, Inferno! Oh, as soon as I am done with my speeches,
I must start thinking up all sorts of fiendish tortures for those
resistance leaders. What a grand time we'll have, Inferno!"
"Indeed, my Lord," Inferno said with a sly smile, recalling fondly
the reaction of the Princess as she was dropped into the Troll Cave.
"Indeed we will."
The only thing that prevented the Princess from screaming until her
throat shattered was the fact that a bloated troll phallus had been
thrust into her mouth. The troll held her tightly by the hair, forcing
her head to bob up and down on his thick manhood. Behind her, another
troll grunted in glee as he violated her from behind, his body pounding
against hers mercilessly as his thick beastly flesh drove hard into her
intimate tunnel.
She had already climaxed twice, streams of troll-seed dripping from
her sex, her body shaking with a wanton lust that was almost a match
for the trolls that were methodically raping her. After her first
climax, the caves had echoed with her screams, the throbbing paroxysms
from her sex so intense from the tightness of the troll's phallus in
her tunnel that she saw stars dance before her eyes. Now she rose
again, the nub of her womanhood pressed against the rod of brutal
invasive flesh in her sex.
Suddenly the phallus in her mouth seemed to explode, shooting hot
globs of his sticky seed into her mouth, so much that it was impossible
to contain it all, dripping out around her lips and down the side of
his manhood.
"Mmmph!" Princess Sarah cried in a bubbling nasal whine as she felt
as if she were drowning in his seed. With a loud grunt, the beast-man
let go of her and withdrew his now less-engorged member from her. More
seed dripped from her mouth before she could tilt her head back and
swallow, panting to catch her breath, crying out stridently as she rose
to another climax. Yet at the moment she was about to reach her
crescendo and let out another scream, another troll seized her by the
hair and plunged her head onto another phallus waiting to be sated.
Inferno faced the three barrel-chested guards as they stood more or
less at attention before him, looking at their master with baleful eyes
as he paced back and forth before them.
"Now, I want you to listen well," Inferno told the one in the
center. The guard blinked, as if in surprise. "You are to make sure all
entrances to the Tower are covered come dusk. Put extra men on it if
you need to. I want nothing getting in without us knowing about it. Do
you understand me?"
"Uh ... yeah," the guard grunted, blinking stupidly. "Jus' one
ting."
"Yes?"
"Why you tell me?" He jerked a beefy thumb over his shoulder. "Him
captain of guard."
Inferno rolled his eyes. "Oh, bloody hell," he grumbled. "With
those sodding helmets I can't tell one of you from the other. Look, do
I have to repeat what I just said or did you hear it?" he said to the
real captain of the guard.
"Uh ... no, I heard," the captain grunted. "Jus' one ting."
Inferno sighed. "Yes?"
"Wut you want us ta cover them wid?"
Inferno blinked. "What??"
"The en-ter-ran-ces," he replied. "Wut do ya want 'em covered wid?"
Inferno slapped his forehead. "I meant, don't let anyone in the
Tower!" the incubus shouted in an exasperated voice.
"Oh! Yeah. Okay."
"I want someone in every corridor," Inferno said. "And unless
there's an intruder in the Tower, you are not to leave your assigned
corridors! Is that clear?"
The captain of the guard grunted something that sounded like an
affirmative. At least Inferno hoped so. "Fine. Any further questions?"
"Uhh ..."
"/Yes?/"
"We's wuz wonderin'," the guard began.
"Oh, now /there's/ a first," Inferno said sourly. "What?"
"Dooya tink we get ta rape da Princess again?"
The other guards grunted and nodded.
"No, I don't think so. Not anymore with this one."
There was a chorus of "awww" from all three.
"You sure?" the guard persisted.
"Yes, I'm sure!" Inferno said hotly. "Why do you care, anyway?"
"Well, uh, it's like y'know, one of 'em jobapoirks."
Inferno blinked. "A /what?/"
"Jobapoirks. Like, uh, when ya torture her an' stuff. Extra stuff.
More'n yer pay."
Inferno puzzled this for a moment. "You mean ... job perks?"
"Yeah! One o' dem. We should get dem, y'know, fer doin' good."
The incubus grumbled. /Great, he can't tie his shoes, but he can
negotiate employment contracts,/ he thought. "Look, I'll think about
it, okay? Maybe later. If you, uh, do a good job. Now, carry on."
He turned and walked away from them, shaking his head. He lamented
now having concentrated so much on the quality of their manly equipment
and so little on their brains. Surely if he had been a little more
choosy in his hiring, he could have acquired guards with marginally
more intelligence than this!
Inferno entered the corridor that went past the front entrance of
the Tower. He walked over to the tall iron gate, standing just to the
side of the "No Soliciting" sign as he peered between the iron bars,
and between the two massive boulders laying as silent but deadly
sentinels on either side. Looking past the boulders, he watched a small
bird perched upon the branch of a tree, chirping merrily. An insect
buzzed past the beautiful, bright-blue plumaged bird, causing it to
lunge after it, flying from its perch with a quick burst of movement
from its wings. It dived and quickly caught up with the little bug,
snapping out its wings into a graceful dive as it snatched the insect
in its beak. As the bird made short work of its snack, it flew between
the two boulders.
/WHAM!!/
With a deafening sound of thunder, the two boulders smashed
together, throwing dust and pebbles in all directions. A single blue
feather wafted up on a thermal and out of sight.
Inferno allowed himself a small, self-satisfied sneer as the
boulders slowly separated, the crushed remains of the bird no more than
a stain on the smooth surfaces of the boulders. Surely even the King's
Champion would not get past that. Surely even the likes of Smidlar the
Brave shall not pass these deadly sentinels without feeling their
crushing embrace.
But then he remembered the trick that Smidlar used to get over the
bridge, and his smile faded slightly. Oh, but anyone can think of that!
Certainly. No one need read a book to know that trick.
The barren wastes that lay in the Forbidden Lands past the chasm
became craggy and broken as the sun began to slip towards the western
horizon, the road twisting and turning insanely hither and yon, the
path so narrow and the rocks along the sides so sharp that Smidlar had
to slow his steed to a slow walk, letting him pick his way cautiously
lest the poor beast break his leg. All the while, the Tower of Doom
thrust up towards the sky in the distance, as if taunting him, enticing
him to come closer to the pure evil hardened within its stones.
It was with relief that Smidlar saw the road straighten out before
him, but it was short lived, for now the smell of sulphur came to him,
the breeze suddenly blowing the heat from a furnace against his face.
Sure enough, from up ahead, he saw a bright red glow stretch out like a
river across his path, but instead of water, this river was filled with
molten lava.
As Smidlar approached the flowing stream of molten rock, his eyes
followed the road to its edge. There, a bridge of smooth stone, like
hardened lava, stretched in a perfect arc across the incendiary river,
more than wide enough to accommodate his steed and hold them a safe
distance above the deadly liquid hellfire below.
Smidlar gave a small smirk as he stopped his horse a short distance
from it and dismounted. He walked up to the start of the bridge and
tested one end with his foot. It felt quite solid under his heel. He
took a few steps, ready to leap backwards if anything happened. The
bridge remained still.
He backed up to shore and scratched his chin. He glanced around him
and chanced upon another small stone. Smiling to himself, he picked it
up and chucked it towards the bridge. It struck it at a point about a
third of the way across, and then skipped and rolled forward until it
came to rest more or less in the center of the bridge.
A great rumbling sound arose, causing his horse to whinny nervously
and back up further from the edge. Thousands of cracks appeared on the
bridge, radiating throughout the center span, until the entire bridge
broke apart and collapsed, great chunks of rock falling into the lava
and sending small plumes of liquid fire into the air. After a short
pause, the lava appeared to change direction, rising in two narrow
steams on either bank, curving back in towards each other. They formed
an arc over the molten river and instantly hardened into a solid bridge
once again.
Smidlar laughed. "Jolly good, Mallevelus, but still not good
enough!" he said with great mirth. He looked off to either side, his
gaze tracing a path along the lava. Finally, he spotted what he was
looking for in the distance, downstream of where the bridge trap stood:
A steep cliff filled with many large and precariously balanced boulders
on the other side of the molten stream.
"That should do the trick," Smidlar said with a grin as he mounted
his steed once again. "I will wager that a well-thrown rock should
bring that down and make a nice crossing for us!"
He gave his horse a kick and steered him down towards the cliff.
/Bugger,/ Inferno thought as he peered into the Farseeing Mirror.
"Heh, a wily one, isn't he?" the Dark Lord said with an evil
chuckle.
"Only because he has read the book, my Lord."
The Dark Lord frowned. "Book? What book?"
"101 Uses for Small Rocks and Stones, my Lord."
The Dark Lord blinked. "Really? There's a book on that?"
"The stone to dispell the bridge-out illusion, page 32," Inferno
said, ticking off items on his talons. "Using rock to test for trap on
stone bridge, page 45. Tossing stone to start landslide to ford river,
page 62."
The Dark Lord waved a hand of dismissal. "No matter. No book will
help him one jot when he confronts me in my own domain! And then, this
tower shall live up to its name, /for it will indeed be his Doom!/"
He raised his arms and laughed maniacally.
"I'll go check on the Princess, my Lord," Inferno muttered, though
he was barely heard over the thunder.
Princess Sarah felt every intimate area on her body ache, ever
muscle in her body strained with the contortions into which she was
forced to satisfy the unquenchable lust of the cave trolls. The needs
of these creatures grew no less intense the more they molested her.
Indeed, they grew yet more demanding, each one becoming more and more
impatient waiting for a fellow troll to be done with her, until finally
she had been pinned to the floor with no fewer than three of the brutes
atop her, one spearing her sex, one mashing her breasts over his
manhood, and the third with his flesh rod impaled in her mouth.
Yet even this was not enough to satisfy them. Each of her hands was
curled around a massive troll phallus, stroking them as quickly as her
fingers would go, the trolls grunting and urging her hand even faster.
Her body was splattered with troll-seed nearly everywhere, her nose
thick with its heady odor.
From the corridor far above her, just outside the door that led to
the chamber in which she had been placed, the Dark Lord's Right Hand of
Terror observed the Princess through the Seeing Eye orb mounted just on
the wall.
First he saw how her mouth sucked eagerly, and how her hips rose
against the troll's raping phallus. He clenched his claws into fists.
Then he heard her moans of lust. His teeth ground together with a
horrible metallic-like screeching noise.
Next he heard her muffled moans of ecstasy as she approached
another climax. His eyes blazed white-hot and black smoke began to pour
from his ears.
And then he saw how she gulped down the troll's seed when he
climaxed in her mouth. He began to shake with rage.
Finally, the troll at her mouth left her, and the Princess threw
her head back and screamed at the other troll, "/Oh gods, oh gods,
don't stop! DON'T STOP!/"
"/AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!/"
Inferno rammed a fist into the glass orb, shattering it, its
released energies crackling around him as bolts of green lightning. He
then kicked viciously at the solid metal door to the chamber, breaking
the lock and sending it cracking off its hinges. He grabbed it with his
hands and hurtled it against the far wall of the corridor with a
deafening clang that echoed up and down the corridors of the Tower,
twisting it into an almost unrecognizable lump of metal.
/"GUARDS!!/" he bellowed.
Two of the slow-witted beasts arrived at his side, then backed up a
step as they felt the furnace-blast heat that was the incubus' fury.
"I want you to get the Princess out of the cave," Inferno snarled
to them. "Get her up here, get her cleaned up, then take her to sodding
room, and ... and ..."
"Rape her?" suggested one hopefully.
"/NO!!!/" Inferno screamed, casting a deadly gaze at the guard.
The guard's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground,
stone dead. Another dutifully took his place. "Den wut to we do wid
her?" asked the replacement.
"You will take her and ... then you'll ... and ... but ..." Inferno
clenched his teeth and then let go with another loud scream of
frustration. "/Do nothing to her! What does it matter?! Nothing works
on her! Do you hear me? Do nothing! JUST FUCKING LEAVE HER THERE!!/"
Inferno stomped away in rage, venting his anger on another passing
guard by setting him on fire.
Just as the last sliver of the bloated red sun disappeared over the
distant hills, Smidlar the Brave and his noble steed climbed to the top
of a hill, watching as the Dark Lord's edifice of evil rose boldly
erect over the crest of the hill, stretching long into the yielding
sky, thick with the evil contained within its hard walls. Scattered
around them lay the crumbling ruins of a long forgotten prosperous
kingdom not unlike the Kingdom of Light, forever destroyed when the
vile and foul Lord Mallevelus seized its throne and turned it into his
own vision of hell on earth, obliterating all trace of the former
goodness of these lands and earning the name of the road on which they
traveled, the Road to Ruin.
"We are here at last!" Smidlar declared. "Yes, my trusty steed,
therein lies the Foul One himself, the coward who so callously holds
the fair and pure ..."
The horse snorted.
" ... Princess hostage. And so, what to do first? How to assault
such a stronghold of most malevolent evil, hmm?"
And then the King's Champion touched the small pendant around his
neck and grinned a most clever grin, and when he spoke again, he spoke
loudly and clearly.
"Why, by waiting until the cover of darkness, that's how. It would
be sheer madness to attack such a place now, even with the paltry light
of dusk." He swept his gaze across the ruined landscape. "Ah, there we
go."
He nudged his horse into a leisurely walk across to a pile of
fallen marble columns. Several of them had collapsed in such a way that
they formed a small, enclosed area. He dismounted his horse and urged
him into the protected space, giving him an affectionate pat on his
flank. "There now, my loyal companion," he said. "Now here we stay and
wait. We wait until /full and complete darkness/ has descended upon
these lands, and /not a moment sooner/. Until then, we rest."
Smidlar the Brave, a small smile still etched in his face, turned
towards a sheltered corner where several of the columns had converged
as they fell so long ago. Into this small niche he crawled, another
column forming a ceiling over his head, as he squeezed into a space
that was not much bigger than Princess Sarah's cage. He looked off to
the side, where a wide triangular gap lay between the ground and the
fallen pillars.
He glanced in front of him. His horse stood near the opening of the
niche, blocking line of sight from the only direction that was open.
His smile broadening, he slowly unclasped the pendant the Lady of
Lesser Virtue had given him and placed it gently on the ground.
He waited, cocking an ear towards the Tower.
The Dark Lord's lips curled into an eager, malevolent smile as he
gazed into the farseeing mirror, just as his quarry disappeared into
the stony niche. "Smidlar the Brave," he said with an amused sneer.
"Smidlar the /Fool/ is more like it! Little do you know I have been
watching and hearing everything you do or say! I now know your entire
plan! And to think, it was all because you trusted a woman, a woman who
played to your most base desires, your most primal lust. Try as you
might, Smidlar, but you cannot escape the fact that you are a man, only
a man, with all the weaknesses of a man, and now when you enter my
domain, I will be ready for you, /and I will destroy you!/"
The Dark Lord Mallevelus lifted his arms and looked up towards the
ceiling, and let loose with his loudest, his most evil, his most
satisfyingly diabolical laughter of his life. The thunder was again
called down from the heavens, bright green lightning cracking, the
booming reports echoing through the chamber and the Tower, and rolling
across the ruined lands.
The thunder came to the ears of Smidlar the Brave as well, shaking
even the mighty stone columns that formed his protection. He grinned,
then quickly flattened his body against the ground and shimmied out
through the space below the columns. As soon as he was on the other
side, he leapt to his feet and bounded away, running back towards the
road and the main entrance into the Tower.
On the farseeing mirror, Smidlar appeared from under the columns,
and then was gone in a flicker of moment, leaving the image as it was
when the Dark Lord looked back down at it a moment later. "Yes, you
rest, Smidlar," Mallevelus sneered. "Rest for your appointment with
/death!/" He started to turn around. "/INFERNO!/" he bellowed.
"Yes, my Lord?" said the incubus in a tired voice still tinged with
anger.
"Gah!" the Dark Lord cried, startled. "How did you do that? I only
just called you."
"I heard your, ah, diabolical laughter, my Lord," he said evenly.
He had to force himself to stay calm. It had taken four barbecued
guards before enough of his anger had drained for him to even attempt
to be civil towards anyone, even his own master.
"Oh, right. Anyway ... he has arrived, my Right Hand of Terror!"
the Dark Lord declared. He swept an arm dramatically towards the
mirror. "Behold!"
Inferno stepped forward, peered, and raised an eyebrow. "Er ...
begging my most Diabolical and Evil Lord's pardon," he started slowly.
"But what am I looking at?"
"Our prey, Inferno!"
"You mean Smidlar the Brave, my Lord?"
Mallevelus rolled his eyes. "No, the Pink Pixie Queen. /Yes, I mean
Smidlar the Brave!/"
"Ah ... forgive me, Master, but I do not see him there."
"Of course not. He has hidden himself behind those columns. He is
waiting until darkness falls completely, and not a moment sooner. His
exact words, Inferno! Not a moment sooner!"
Inferno made a dubious face as he looked at the image in the
mirror.
"Hah! He thinks we will have our guard down just because it is
dark! What a fool!"
"Then shall I double the guards at the entrance, my Lord?" Inferno
asked hopefully.
"Now why would I want to do that?" the Dark Lord asked crossly.
Inferno took a deep breath, his claws clenching again. "Because, my
most /Esteemed/ and /Brilliant/ Lord and Master, such an action might
have the effect of capturing or killing Smidlar before he penetrates
this lair very far, which I thought was the general idea!"
"You are forgetting, Inferno!" Mallevelus declared. He sauntered
over to his throne and picked up his Scepter of Infernal Power. "I wish
the honor of destroying him myself!"
/Bloody git,/ Inferno thought vehemently. "In that case, my Lord,
we have some time before Smidlar attacks, and I have an urgent matter
to discuss with you."
"Not now, Inferno," the Dark Lord said with a dismissive sweep of
his arm. "I simply must prepare a speech for when I stand over his
broken and dying body."
Inferno clenched his teeth. He counted to ten. It didn't help.
"Please, my Lord," he practically hissed. "This is really important."
"Not more important than preserving this moment in history! I ..."
"It concerns the Princess, you g ... I mean, my Lord."
The Dark Lord fell silent. "What about her?" he asked warily.
Smidlar crept cautiously to the end of the Road to Ruin, just at
the shadow of the massive boulders that rose over him on either side
like dark, forbidding cliffs. Between them lay the iron gate into the
Tower, and upon it was a small white sign that he could just barely
make out. He squinted, leaning forward, but it was just far enough for
him not to be able to read it. He started to take a step ...
... and at the last minute pulled back.
Smidlar furrowed his brow. "Hmmm ..." he murmured thoughtfully,
scratching his chin, glancing from one of the boulders to the other.
Very faintly in the failing light he could see a small discoloration on
the surface of one of them, facing the path. He looked at the other and
saw a similar stain at the same exact location.
"Very curious," he commented. He glanced around him and spied a
stone near his foot. Grinning to himself, he took it in hand, stepped
back a respectable distance, and tossed the rock towards the gate (as
instructed on pages 123 and 124 of the book).
/WHAM!!/
The boulders came together, thousands of tons of mass crashing
together with explosive force. There was a pause, and then the boulders
slowly came apart with a low rumbling noise, dust wafting to the
ground, the remnants of the stone he had tossed, not having even made
it halfway to the ground.
"As I thought!" Smidlar declared. He peered towards the gate again,
stepping to one side. The gate was recessed into the wall. "Looks like
there's enough space," he commented to himself. "But ... the question
is ..." He reached down and picked up two more stones. " ... does it
wait, or does it react again right away?"
He tossed another stone into the stone maw of death.
/WHAM!!/
As soon as the boulders pulled back far enough for him to toss the
other stone within, he did so. It fell to the ground and bounced a few
times before coming to rest as the boulders continued to reset. But the
moment they had returned to their original positions, they again came
together and pulverized the second stone as well.
Smidlar grinned. "This should not be terribly difficult," he said,
and prepared to fetch another stone.
"Are you quite serious, Inferno?" the Dark Lord said, his eyebrows
knitted together in confusion.
"Never more serious, my Lord," Inferno said, his voice strained.
"Because if this is a joke, I'm not ..."
"It not a joke, my Lord!' Inferno yelled. "I wish to the nine
levels of Hell that it was!"
"Are you quite sure you did everything you could to her?"
"Everything!"
"I mean, I did tell you not to go too far, perhaps that ..."
Inferno snarled. "Listen to me, dammit!" he bellowed. "I've been
ignoring your orders! I've not relayed a single one of your wishes to
go easy on her! Not a single one! And still it does not matter! /It
does not matter!/"
Mallevelus frowned deeply. "Now, Inferno, this has got to stop," he
said, shaking his Scepter at him. "How can I maintain discipline among
my minions if I let you go off on these larks disobeying my orders?
How's it going to look to the others if when they disobey I toss them
into molten lava or boiling acid, and you I give a reprimand? Come now,
Inferno, I ..."
"/You're not listening to me!/" Inferno screamed. "Sod the bloody
discipline! I'm trying to get across to you that this Princess we have
here has not been affected /one jot/ by anything we've done to her! We
can torture her from here to the end of time and it would not matter!
She still enjoys it! /She still bloody well enjoys it!/"
The Dark Lord looked thoughtful. "Well, perhaps if you raped her
..."
"/AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!/" Inferno shrieked. Furious, he snatched the
Scepter from his master's hand and thrust it towards the first thing he
saw, the Farseeing Mirror. A bolt of lightning shot from the end of the
Scepter and exploded against the surface of the mirror, shattering the
glass into dust and cracking the frame into a dozen pieces that fell
into a singed clump on the floor, acrid smoke wafting up from the
ruins.
/WHAM!!/
Smidlar the Brave felt the wind of the passing boulders against his
back as he stood pressed against the iron gate, breathing hard from the
mad dash he made between the boulders as they reset from the stone he
had again tossed between them. He broke into a sly smile at his own
cleverness. The next moment, however, he heard footfalls on the other
side of the gate. Quickly he twisted himself around, pressing his back
into one side of the door archway, in the shadow created by the boulder
on that side.
He peered cautiously past the gate. Ahead was an intersection of
the wide passage that led to the gate, which itself lay shrouded in
darkness not far into the Tower, and a narrower passage that ran across
his line of sight. It was through this passage that a burly guard
wandered into view.
Smidlar examined the guard, his gaze focusing on the man's
face-obscuring helmet. "Hmm," he murmured to himself.
He paused, glanced about, and continued on his way and out of
sight.
Smidlar looked around him and found another stone. He tested the
gate, and found that it opened for him easily. He stepped back into the
shadows and waited. Not long after, the guard passed again in the other
direction. As soon as he passed out of sight again, Smidlar opened the
gate and hurtled the stone into the dark corridor (page 75). It bounced
loudly on the stone floor and came to rest somewhere in its dark
recesses.
"Huh? Wut?" the guard grunted, popping back into view and looking
into the dark corridor, his back to Smidlar. "Who go dere?!"
Smidlar leapt.
The guard heard the movement behind him, but it was too late. He
had barely started to turn around when something hard and stony was
smashed against the back of his head (a technique from a different
book: 101 Ways to Bash a Skull). He fell heavily to the floor with a
loud thud and was still.
Smidlar had to move fast. He knew that someone might check on the
guard soon. He quickly grabbed the brute under his armpits and dragged
him more fully into the darkness.
"Well, thank you /very much!/" the Dark Lord shouted. "Do you know
how much I paid for that?! That's coming out of your cut of the
treasure we loot from the Kingdom of Light, I can tell you that!"
"My apologies, my Lord," Inferno said in a more contrite voice,
tossing the Scepter onto the Throne. "But you have no idea how
frustrating this has been!"
"All I suggested was ..."
"I know what you suggested!" Inferno bellowed. He closed his eyes
and took a deep breath. "My point, my Lord, is that it /would not
matter/ if I did it. She would find some way to enjoy it!"
"Now hang about," Mallevelus said. "That cannot simply be true. No
one can like being raped by an incubus."
"She will! I can guarantee she will!"
"But ..."
"Please /listen/, Master!" Inferno pleaded. "She has already been
raped by several of the guards. She has been tortured most evilly by
your own Madam Agonusa. Every sensitive part of her body involved in
the sexual act has been tormented until it felt a pain that would drop
a basilisk! And yet she /still/ she enjoyed it!"
The Dark Lord appeared to puzzle over this. "The only thing I can
think of, Inferno, is that Madam Agonusa was simply not merciless
enough with her."
"Not ... " Inferno choked. He clenched his teeth again.
"I mean, anything less than that wand she uses ... oh what's it
called, has the little tine thingies that spark ..."
"The Wand of Agony, my Lord?"
"Ah, yes, that's the ticket! Now, if she had used that on her, well
..."
"She did, my Lord," Inferno said loudly.
Mallevelus fell silent for a stunned moment. "She did?"
"She did, my Lord."
"Are you sure?"
"I saw it myself, my Lord."
"She used it ... everywhere?"
"Everywhere, my Lord."
"Her nipples?" the Dark Lord mused. "Her womanhood?"
"Everywhere, my Lord," Inferno hissed through his grinding teeth.
"And ... she enjoyed that?"
"Well, she seemed to be quite in the proper agony at first, my
Lord, but when she was touched in those areas, she enjoyed it."
The Dark Lord blinked. "You don't mean she actually ... that she
..."
"Climaxed?" Inferno said with a humorless smirk. "Indeed she did,
my Lord."
Smidlar peered around the corner cautiously, adjusting his helmet.
He stripped out of his clothes and put on the guard's loincloth and
helmet, his naturally strong physique making him look much like any of
the others with his normal clothing removed. He straightened up, and
emerged into the corridor. Now, he had to find the Princess.
He traveled a short distance down where the guard had originally
been walking and found another corridor intersecting this one. When he
peered down it, he saw a spiral staircase at the other end. Between him
and it was another guard, walking slowly in his direction. Smidlar fell
into step, emulating the loping movements of the other guard, hunching
his shoulders slightly. He grunted a likely sounding greeting at the
other guard, who grunted back in kind.
Yet a moment later, a dim light illuminated in the back of the
other guard's mind. He grunted again and turned. "Hey, youse!"
Smidlar stopped. He paused a moment, cleared his throat, and
turned. "Yeah?" he said, forcing his voice an octave lower than normal.
"Wut you leave for?" the guard demanded. "Man in every cor ...
corgi .. codr ... hall. Me here ..." He pointed a thick finger to the
floor. "You dere ..." He pointed back to the other corridor. "Dem's
orders."
"Uh ... um ... oh! uh, you hear boom?" Smidlar said.
"Huh? Wut boom?"
"Big boom out dere," Smidlar said, pointing towards the entrance.
He raised his fists and held them apart a foot, then brought them
together quickly. "Boom! From big rocks."
"Oh, yeah, dat. Wut about it? Hear dat all the time. Bloody birds."
"No bird dis time," Smidlar said, cracking as evil-looking a grin
as he could manage. "Wuz bigger."
"Yeah? Anudder salesman?"
"Nah. Got dat guy dat, uh, s'posed ta come here."
"Oh, yeah, dat guy," the guard said with a toothy grin. "Da one dey
wanted ta cover da winders for."
"Uh ... yeah," Smidlar said, some uncertainty creeping into his
voice. "Anyway ... uh ... so I go now. Off duty."
"Hey, yeah, y' get sum jobapoirks."
"Er ... yeah ..."
The guard chortled. "Gonna get ta rape da Princess now?"
Smidlar looked aghast. "Rape?!" he cried in horror. Quickly he
recovered, and dropped back into his fake voice. "Uh, yeah, dat's right
... uh, rape her, yeah." He paused. "Uh ... so where she is?"
The other guard laughed. "Where she is?" he cried. "Dat's funny!
Where she is, 'e says!"
Smidlar managed to laugh as well. "Huh, yeah, silly me."
"Ever'buddy know she in stateroom on third floor in da back," the
guard said, still chuckling.
Smidlar smiled slightly. "Yeah, of course ... I remember dat now
... uh, so I'll see ya."
"Yeah, see ya."
Smidlar quickly turned and headed up the stairs.
"I don't get it," the Dark Lord said.
"Now do you see what I'm talking about?" Inferno cried. "I don't
get it either! Each time, it starts out great. When she was first raped
by the guard or when she was first tortured. She screamed the most
beautiful cries of suffering and torment, and then the moment she gets
aroused, it all falls apart!"
"Well, Inferno, I hate to be the one to tell you how to do you job,
now ..." Mallevelus said with a smirk.
"Oh, please do, my Lord," Inferno said sardonically. "It cannot
possibly be any worse that what has already happened!"
The Dark Lord gave the incubus a dark look. Once the light level in
the room came back to where they could see each other again, he
continued, "But I was a great torturer in my day, and I would say that
the simple solution to this is if pain alone is not working, you must
instead go for the mind! Make her reel in disgust and revulsion!
Overwhelm her senses"
"Oh, now why hadn't I thought of that?" Inferno said with a roll of
his eyes.
"Associate the very sexual act with something vile and gross,
something to make her go utterly mad if it did not stop, something ...
something brutal, unyielding ... something like ..."
"The Troll Cave, my Lord?"
"Oh, that's a cracking good idea! Nothing like a bunch of hulking,
sex-crazed, brutal beasts with huge phalluses that ..."
"Didn't work either, my Lord."
The Dark Lord stared at him. "You tried it already on her?"
"Indeed, my Lord."
"When?"
"Today, my Lord."
"And ... she enjoyed it?"
Inferno sighed tiredly. "Yes, my Lord."
"That's impossible!" the Dark Lord declared.
"Indeed, my Lord. Yet somehow she managed it."
"Are you quite sure?"
"Does it mean she enjoys it when she shouts, and I quote, 'oh gods,
oh gods, don't stop, don't stop'?"
Mallevelus gaped at him. "Well ... perhaps ..."
"Let me save you some time, my Lord," Inferno said. "The trolls
were perfectly healthy. She was lowered far enough down. She was left
in more than long enough. They know to, ah, use their equipment. And it
was big equipment as well. Everything was done perfectly, everything
worked as it should. Except that she ultimately enjoyed it."
Smidlar the Brave emerged on the third floor and after a short walk
down the narrow hallway spotted it. A large iron door, leading to a
room facing the rear of the Tower, flanked by two more guards. He
glanced back the other way for a moment, checking to see that he
remained undetected in the Dark Lord's fortress. He allowed himself a
small smile before letting it go blank and dumb before marching up to
the guards.
The two looked at him with disinterest as he turned to face them.
"Open door fer me," he said in what he hoped was what passed for a
commanding voice to these dim-witted brutes.
The two exchanged looks. "Wut we open it fer?" the one on the left
demanded.
"Me, uh, go rape Princess," Smidlar said.
The one on the right snorted. "Yeah? Who sez?"
"Da Dark Lord, sez, dat's who!"
The two of them straightened. "Why you get ta rape her?" the left
one muttered.
"Yeah, we don't get to do nuthin' wid her," the right one
lamented. "Told us ta jus' leave her alone."
"Ain't fair."
"Yeah. Ain't bloody fair."
"Yeah, but dem's orders," Smidlar countered. "Open da door."
The two grumbled some more under their breath, but dutifully began
undoing the bolt. Smidlar felt his heart race, both from the excitement
of his quest and the chance to see the beautiful princess he had so
admired from afar for so very long.
"And close it behind me," Smidlar said.
"Aww, I wanna watch."
"Yeah, c'mon, can't we?"
"No watching!" Smidlar said firmly. "Dem's orders, too."
More grumbling, and the door was pulled open.
Smidlar boldly stepped into the stateroom, and his breath caught in
his throat as he beheld the lovely vision that was the Princess.
Princess Sarah had been lying on her side, napping lightly, a faint
smile on her face as her dreams replayed the fantastic erotic pleasure
she had felt only a short time ago that day. She stirred lazily at the
approach of the "guard", blinking languidly as she rose gracefully to a
seated position on her bed, the chain from her iron collar clinking
softly. "Oh, my, another rape?" she said in a wistful voice, a sultry
smile playing about her lips.
The door closed behind Smidlar with a clang, leaving him alone with
the Princess. He continued to stare at her for another moment, and only
then realized the great impropriety he was committing. "Oh, Your
Highness, forgive me!" Smidlar called out in his normal voice, placing
a hand across his eyes.
Princess Sarah blinked. "Uh ... for what?"
"For continuing to gaze upon your stark nudity," Smidlar said.
"Please, feel free to cover yourself with the sheet before we
continue."
"Er ... but ... wouldn't that make it rather difficult to ...?"
"Not at all! I shall endeavor to hold you so that your dignity is
fully preserved as we make our way out the window."
Sarah paused as she was starting to wrap the sheet around her,
raising an eyebrow. "Uh ... the window?" she asked in a small voice.
Smidlar dropped his hand and beamed. "Yes, Princess! Oh, terribly
sorry." His hand shot back up when he saw one breast still exposed.
"Please, finish covering yourself."
"Uh, right," Sarah said in confusion. When she had both breasts
safely tucked away, she said. "Okay, you can look now."
Smidlar lowered his eyes and smiled. "You are still quite the
vision of loveliness, Your Highness," he said softly.
"Oh! Well, uh, thank you ..." Princess Sarah said uncertainly.
"Just one question."
"Anything, my Lady."
"Who the hell are you?"
With a flourish, he removed his helmet. "Smidlar the Brave, Your
Highness!" he declared. "Sent by your dear father, King Beneficus, to
rescue you from the clutches of the evil Dark Lord Mallevelus!"
Princess Sarah sighed. "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered.
"Everything we have done, my Lord, we have done by the book!"
Inferno cried.
The Dark Lord gave the incubus an odd look. "What, not that sodding
stones and rocks book again?"
Inferno rolled his eyes. "No, my Lord, this one is Advanced
Techniques in Torture, fifth edition. But never mind that! Every time,
it starts out right, but by the end, her screams of torment become
screams of pleasure!"
The Dark Lord appeared deep in thought. Inferno sighed when he saw
this, trying to calm himself, knowing that the wheels in Mallevelus'
mind tended to turn slowly. Evilly, but slowly. "So ... she starts out
in torture, and ends up in ecstasy?" he said. "Is that what you are
saying, Inferno?"
"Certainly not with the far better way you have just expressed it,
my Lord," the incubus said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, well, it's a gift," the Dark Lord said with a grin.
Inferno had to bite his tongue to hold back a retort as to
precisely the sort of gift he had thought it was.
"Anyway, something must have happened in between those two points
to change things."
"But the only thing that happened, my Lord, is that she began to
climax! Which is the very thing that should have continued to cause her
even deeper torment and horror! She should have screamed for mercy at
the terrible violation of her body! She should have gone mad with
mortification at her body being used like a common tramp! She should
have howled with outrage and despair over his vile trespass of her most
intimate and sensitive parts of her body!"
The Dark Lord laughed. "Unless, of course, she simply likes that
sort of thing," he said with a careless smirk and a flippant gesture of
one hand.
And then the Dark Lord's Right Hand of Terror suddenly stood bolt
upright, his eyes flashing in the unmistakable look of inspiration.
The Princess' mind raced as Smidlar knelt behind her on the bed,
working the heavy lock that sealed her collar to her neck with a small
piece of metal. "Uh ... so, um, Smidlar, is it?" Princess Sarah said
nervously. "You said my father sent you?"
"Indeed he did, Your Highness," Smidlar said. "He is quite worried
about you."
"Er ... right ... of course ..." She listened to the soft scrape
and clicks of metal on metal, her collar occasionally pressing against
her throat as he fiddled with it. "Um ... you know, they said that lock
was unpickable when the locked me in it," she lied.
"Please, Your Highness, continue to be brave for me for another few
moments, I almost have this."
"Oh, uh, I just meant, well, why waste your time? I mean, you can
always try again another day ..."
"We have but a scant candlemark or two, my Lady," Smidlar said
urgently, glancing towards the window. Outside, the full shroud of
night was not far from falling across the lands, the last bits of dark
purple twilight glow chased from the western horizon. "Before the Dark
Lord learns I have tricked him."
"Tricked ... you mean he doesn't know you're here?" the Princess
asked.
"Not at all, Your Highness!" Smidlar said smugly. "Not in the
Tower, anyway. I shall be snatching you away right under his nose."
"Oh, but if the collar proves to be too tough for what I am sure
are your otherwise masterful skills then ..."
There was a loud snap as the collar separated, and a clink of the
free end of the chain falling to the bed behind her. "Ah! Success!"
Smidlar cried.
"/Sod it,/" the Princess muttered under her breath as she pulled
the collar from her neck.
"What was that, my Lady?"
"Oh, uh, I just said, 'so good'. You know ... it was so good of you
to free me," Sarah said weakly.
"Ah, but you will have a lifetime to thank me for that, Your
Highness!" Smidlar beamed as he stood up. "Now, we must make haste, but
we must be quiet and not arouse the suspicion of the guards."
Princess Sarah furrowed her brow as she watched him rush over to
the window, idly fingering the heavy iron collar still in her hands.
"Hang about," she said narrowing her eyes. "What do you mean, I'll have
a lifetime to thank you?"
"My Lord ... " Inferno said slowly and softly. "/What/ did you just
say?"
"Hmm? When?"
"Just now. About her liking it?"
"Oh, well, that was just a joke, certainly no girl would /actually/
like such a thing," the Dark Lord said with a chuckle.
Inferno stared at him.
Mallevelus' chuckle faded. "Er ... wouldn't she?"
Inferno's eyes widened.
"Or ... /would/ she?" the Dark Lord said in astonishment, his eyes
growing wide as well.
Smidlar the Brave leaned out of the stateroom window far enough to
avoid being heard by the guards as he lifted his fingers to his lips
and issued a shrill whistle. Faintly in the distance he heard his
trusty steed respond and begin galloping towards the Tower. Below him,
a thicket of ropey vines writhed and snapped, the rear guard sentinels
of the Tower.
He turned back towards the Princess and rushed over to her, taking
one of her hands tenderly in his own, gazing into her eyes. "Ah, my
fair and beautiful lady," he said soothingly. "Everything will be quite
right in a very short while."
Princess Sarah made a face. "And why is that?" she demanded.
"Because, in reward for rescuing you, your father has promised me
..." He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Your hand in marriage."
Sarah's eyes grew to saucers and her mouth dropped open. "My father
promised you /WHAT?!/"
"Please, hush, my Lady!" Smidlar said softly. "Soon the guards will
grow suspicious and any loud noise will alert them! I know you are
beside yourself with joy over this happy conclusion to this quest, but
we must not delay."
Princess Sarah was too stunned to reply for a few moments and let
him pull her across the room and towards the window. Just short of it,
she stopped and yanked her hand from his own. "I am so /happy/ that
someone bothered to consult me about these 'joyous' little plans!" she
snapped.
"Your father has your best interests at heart, Your Highness,"
Smidlar said with a smile. "And I shall make you a good and kind
husband, and watch over you for all of your days."
And then understanding dawned in the Princess' eyes. "Ah, I see ...
watch over me ... mm-hmm ..."
"And now, Princess, we must prepare to go!" Smidlar said, holding
out his arms.
"What? Out the window and down to the vines below? Are you daft?!"
Sarah cried. "They'll throttle us in an instant!"
"Not so, my Lady!" Smidlar said with a smarmy grin. "For this
particular variety of Throttling Vine is vulnerable to heavy blows. A
heavy blow to it will delay its reaction time by five heartbeats! And
the thick mass of vines below is enough to cushion our fall. We shall
land upon them, breaking our fall, and while they are stunned, jump to
safety onto the back of my trusty steed who now fast approaches!"
"I don't believe this," Princess Sarah muttered.
There came the sound of a horse neighing from below. "One moment,
Your Highness, whilst I guide my horse to the proper spot. Oh, and put
that collar down somewhere, but be quiet about it. It will alert them
for sure if you drop it."
As Smidlar turned from her, the Princess looked down at the collar
in her hand, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Inferno, this ... this is perfect!" the Dark Lord cried. "This is
most fortuitous indeed!"
"Yes, my L ... " Inferno stopped. " ... er ... what?"
"This Princess we have here, she is not the fair and pure damsel
that we have been led to believe! No, Inferno! She is a /tramp/ ... a
/slut/ ... a /harlot!/" the Dark Lord said, punctuating each adjective
with a lustful emphasis, his eyes glittering madly. "She /revels/ in
her sexuality ... she /swims/ in the murkiest swamp waters of her own
lust ... she /burns/ in the fires of her own desires ... she ...!"
"I get the general idea, my Lord," Inferno said. "But why is this
'perfect'?"
"Because, Inferno, this Princess may very well be exactly what I
have been looking for all of these many years!"
"Uh ... begging my most Hideous and Confusing Lord's pardon, but
... was not the conquest of the Kingdom of Light what you have been
looking for all these many years?"
Mallevelus waved a dismissive hand. "Feh. That was but a means to
an end for my greater goal!"
Inferno raised an eyebrow. "I know I'm going to regret this," he
said. "But what, my Lord, is your greater goal?"
"Why, to find myself a consort, of course," the Dark Lord said with
a wicked smile.
Inferno stared at his master in astonishment. "A ... consort, my
Lord?" he asked, almost choking on the word.
"Yes, a consort. A woman that I may have at my side, loyal to a
fault, sharing in my conquests, reveling in her share of my power, and
..." The Dark Lord grinned most lasciviously. " ... skilled in the
deepest, darkest of erotic arts for my, ah, /pleasure/."
"Surely this one would satisfy that last requirement," Inferno
said, making a face. "However, there is a problem."
"You're going to tell me I'm mad, are you not?" the Dark Lord said
accusingly.
"/Perish the thought/," Inferno said loudly, mainly to prevent
himself from responding in any other way (like with what he really
felt, that his master was battier than a vampire convention). "But
there is one tiny issue with her, my Lord."
"And that is?"
"Her loyalty, my Lord. I cannot guarantee you will have anything
close to that."
"Then we shall /torture/ it into her! Oh, wait ..."
"Ah, you see the problem now, my Lord," Inferno said.
And from the Princess' stateroom arose a loud banging noise as the
metal collar fell to the floor and rolled towards the door, making a
dull clang as it stuck.
Smidlar whirled around with a gasp.
Princess Sarah smiled sheepishly. "Oops!"
The guards blinked and looked at each other. "What wuz dat?" they
both said in unison.
Inferno and Mallevelus blinked and looked at each other. "What was
that?" they both said in unison.
"Dat came from inside the stateroom, it did," said the guard on the
left.
"Dat it did," said the one on the right.
"Dat dere was, uh, wadderyer call it, sus-pish-us."
"Huh? Why?"
"Cuz ... uh ... don't sound right."
Brows knitted in thought like two fat, wrestling caterpillars.
"Sound like ... sumthin hittin' floor."
"Sumthin metal."
"Mebbe her collar."
"Yeah."
A pause. Then both sets of eyes opened wide and they gaped at each
other.
"/Da Princess!/" they both cried in alarm.
"That sounded like it came from the stateroom," the Dark Lord
speculated.
"That's impossible," Inferno said. "I gave specific instructions to
the guards to leave the Princess be."
"Still, I heard something very clearly from that direction."
"Well, so did I. It was probably something hitting the floor."
"True," said the Dark Lord, nodding. "Something metal."
"Yes, my Lord. Like her metal collar."
"Indeed."
A pause. Then both sets of eyes opened wide and they gaped at each
other.
"/The Princess!/" they both cried in alarm.
Princess Sarah gave the door a small smile of satisfaction seconds
before it burst open, the guards leaping into the room. A second later,
she was abruptly yanked back by her arm and sent almost flying to the
far side of the room, losing her footing and falling to the floor.
"Stand back, Princess!" Smidlar shouted. "For I, Smidlar the Brave,
shall protect you from these perverted, raping brutes!"
"Oh, yes, please save me," the Princess said sourly, rolling her
eyes. /If I ever do see my father again, I am going to KILL him,/ she
thought violently. /Him and that great winged prude he has for a
guardian angel. This was probably her daft idea./
Smidlar leapt forward, and soon the room by the door was filled
with the sounds of heated hand-to-hand combat, fists, arms, and legs
flying in a blur, punctuated with grunts, growls, and the occasional
sickening crunch of something connecting with a sensitive area.
"Hear that?!" Inferno shouted as they pounded down the stairs. "A
fight in the Princess' quarters! It must be Smidlar!"
"Impossible!" the Dark Lord cried. "He was not supposed to set out
until nightfall, which just happened now! How could he get there this
fast?!"
"Unless, my Lord, he /tricked/ you into thinking he was going to
wait!"
"He dares to play a trick on the Dark Lord Mallevelus?!" the Dark
Lord roared. "I shall utterly destroy him for this!"
"I thought you were going to do that anyway, my Lord."
"Then I shall make his destruction a thousand times more painful! I
shall have his liver carved out spoonful by spoonful! I shall have him
slowly roasted alive over a burning pit! I shall cut him up, bit by
bit, and fed to the basilisk! I shall ..."
"No, my Lord!" Inferno warned. "You did that to the last intruder.
That's how the basilisk came down with the rash in the first place!"
Smidlar stood proudly over the now unconscious guards laying at his
feet.
Princess Sarah sighed despondently.
Smidlar turned and hurried over to the Princess. "And now, Your
Highness, we must make haste. Come!"
He took her hand and half-dragged her to the window. "W-wait a
moment, I-I'm not sure this is a good idea ..."
But Smidlar had already draped one leg outside the window. "To
insure your safety, Your Highness, I will drop first, so that I may be
on the ground to pull you quickly from the vines."
The Princess opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it again,
a slow smile breaking across her face. "Oh, okay," she said. "Yes, that
will work. Though it is quite dark out there."
"Have no fear, Princess. I will be able to hear you to know where
you are."
She glanced over at the metal collar, noting to herself that it was
rather dark as well and likely hard to see at night. She grinned.
"Now, stay close to the window, Your Highness, and ..."
At that moment, there was the sound of running feet from just
outside the door.
Smidlar leapt up from the window ledge. "A change of plans,
Princess," he declared. He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards the
window, causing her to yelp. "Our enemy approaches! You must make the
leap to freedom first, and I will protect you!"
Princess Sarah gaped at him. "You want me to /what?!/"
But Smidlar had already turned from her, standing between her and
the door, spreading his arms out protectively just moments before the
Dark Lord and Inferno burst into the room.
"So!" Mallevelus declared. "At last I meet the great so-called
hero, Smidlar the Brave!"
"You are too late, Dark Lord!" Smidlar cried. "In mere blinks of an
eye, the Princess will be out of the Tower and away from your evil
clutches."
"Not if I destroy you first!" Mallevelus thundered.
"And in the time that you do, the Princess will escape your filthy
and wicked lair." Smidlar smiled. "I have defeated your evil plans,
Dark Lord!"
Smidlar began to slowly back up.
"You foolish mortal! I can easily annihilate the two of you at once
with the deadly magic of my mighty Scepter of Infernal Power!" the Dark
Lord roared, bringing up his arm and thrusting it at them. He paused,
blinked, and looked at his empty hand. With a snarl he turned to
Inferno and bellowed. "/Where is my Scepter of Infernal Power?!/"
"Er ..." Inferno said uneasily, his leathery wings drooping. "Ah
... I believe it is back in your chamber, my Lord."
"What the bloody hell is it doing there?!"
"Ah ... it was where ... where I put it down, my Lord."
Smidlar whispered to Sarah. "Now, my Lady! Go out the window while
they are distracted!"
"Uh ... okay," Princess Sarah said. "Um ... no problem."
Princess Sarah paused, then carefully took a step to the side.
The Dark Lord folded his arms indignantly. "Oh, really, now,
Inferno? And I seem to recall that you had it in your hand because
...?"
"I, ah, took it from you, my Lord."
"And so you decided to take the one object that is the source of
all my most powerful magic, the one object that I cannot do without,
the one object that could destroy me in the wrong hands, and you just
leave it about wherever you please! I should sack you for that, I
should! For that and for destroying my Farseeing Mirror!"
"Then do it!" Inferno shouted. "I've had it with this job anyway!
Nothing is worth ..."
Smidlar started to laugh heartily. "As much as I would love to
stay, my most evil Dark Lord, I have a Princess to return safely to her
father." He started to back up. "Until we meet again, I bid you ...
/hey!!/"
As he slid a foot back, it had connected with the Princess'
outstretched leg behind him. He tripped, losing his balance as the
backs of his thighs hit the window ledge. He tumbled back and out into
the cool, night air.
"Oh, my!" the Princess gasped dramatically.
There was a loud, muffled thud a few moments later. The Dark Lord
and Inferno rushed to the window. Mallevelus thrust an arm out,
pointing. "Look! My adversary still lives!"
"Damn," Sarah muttered.
Below, Smidlar quickly rolled himself from the crushed vines, only
moments before they recovered and began twisting and snapping through
the air towards him, getting away just in time. In one smooth motion he
pulled himself up an into the saddle of his horse. "You may have won
this round, Dark Lord!" Smidlar called up. "But I shall never give up!
Fear not, Princess, and have hope that I will yet save you from this
evil fiend!"
He kicked his horse and they rode off at a fast gallop, fading into
the night.
The Dark Lord let go with a diabolical laugh as soon as he and
Inferno made it back up to the chamber.
"And what are you laughing about?" Inferno snapped as the thunder
faded.
"At the sheer irony of it, Inferno!" the Dark Lord declared,
picking up his Scepter. "Smidlar the Brave, moments away from stealing
the Princess away and thwarting my plans, and would have succeeded but
for a fortuitous bit of clumsiness at just the right ..."
"The Princess tripped him, my Lord."
The Dark Lord stared at him. "She did what?"
"She stuck her foot out and tripped him, my Lord."
"You mean ... she did that on purpose?"
"Yes, my Lord," Inferno said. "Which only proves what I had been
saying, that she has been enjoying what we've been doing to her and she
wants more."
The Dark Lord slowly smiled. "Then perhaps she can become my
consort after all!" he said. It quickly faded. "Oh, wait, there is that
loyalty thing, isn't there?"
"Indeed, my Lord," Inferno said, his own mouth twisting into a
wicked smile. "And I believe I have the perfect way to elicit this from
her."
"But you said she cannot be tortured."
"She cannot be tortured in the way we have been doing it."
"Then what do you suggest, Inferno?"
The incubus' eyes glittered with most malevolent evil. "I suggest
... this."
And he conveyed his plan to the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord's eyes widened. "Did I hear you right, Inferno?"
"You did indeed, my Lord."
"But ... we usually remove those things, not put one on!"
"Yes, my Lord, but whereas with others they wish it not removed,
with one such as the Princess ..."
"Ah, yes, I see! But ... where would we find such a thing?"
"Madam Agonusa can likely procure one, my Lord."
"Smashing!" the Dark Lord cried. "So when shall we do this?"
"Why, at dawn, of course," Inferno said with a sly grin. "After
all, we did promise the King that her torment would continue at every
dawn, now didn't we?"
"You want a /what?!/" Madam Agonusa cried. "Are you a loony?!"
"Yes, fine, I'm a loony!" Inferno said. "But can you get one for
me? By dawn?"
"But why do you wish such a thing?"
"It is for the Princess."
Agonusa raised an eyebrow. "Next you'll be asking me to get her a
nice, full-length dress," she snorted.
"Look, can you get one or not?" Inferno said. "I don't have all
night, woman!"
"Yes, I can get you one," she muttered. "You know how this is going
to look to the other torturers when they find out about this? I'll be a
laughingstock, I will!"
Inferno grinned wickedly. "Not if it gets the results I am hoping
for," he said.