Galvyn and the Two Princesses

"Sorry, kid. Bandits aren't gentle. To make this really believable I need to rough you up a bit."

Maybel whimpered but nodded. Galvyn was right.

SMACK!

The back of Galvyn's hand struck Mabel's adorable face so hard he knocked the spit out of her mouth. That was going to leave a black-eye.

THUD!

Galvyn sunk the tip of his boot into her gut, kicking her so hard she nearly vomited.

THWACK!

Galvyn finished his beat-down by grabbing Maybel by her hair, and slamming her head against the shed's wall so hard the wood cracked. Maybel was left so dazed that her head swivelled on her skinny neck, but the submissive slut just whimpered and took it.

Galvyn ran his finger over Maebell's flat chest, flicking her nipple and scooping up a large dollop of semen. He pushed the semen into her mouth and she sucked on it like a good fuck-toy.

"Now go run to your faggot boyfriend and give him a big wet kiss for me."

#

Maebell ran to her boyfriend and indeed gave him a big wet kiss, pushing a good amount of Galvyn's seed into Timod's mouth as she did so. She proved to be a very talented actress as she wept and told Timod of the dozen men who captured her on the road, dragged her into the woods, and took turns fucking her like a cheap whore. She made especially sure to inform Timod of just how massively endowed these bandits were, and what impressive stamina they all had. She told Timod that they had fucked her so hard she couldn't even walk straight (that was true, she couldn't) and that she had been forced to crawl through the mud like a dirty slug. She also had to explain the smell of urine in her hair, which she did by elaborating on how the bandits had used her as a toilet.

Maebell drew a large crowd with her dramatic and detailed story, including the city guard. This was convenient for Galvyn because he was able to slip in without paying the toll or being recognized. Galvyn was a wanted criminal in most kingdoms he had been to, and all it took was one bounty-hunter to recognize him and he'd have to flee again.

Galvyn strolled into the city of Nestington as happy as a bee in a beehive when he felt someone press a dagger against his back.

"I watched you fuck the shit out of that little peasant slut," the woman holding the knife said. She was cloaked in black and purple. "I have to say I'm impressed. There was a moment there when she was cumming so hard I thought she was having a seizure. You even got her to give you her money, and to pull the wool over her cute boyfriend's eyes. You're quite the stud."

". . . Thanks?" Galvyn whispered as he felt the dagger tickle is spleen. One gentle push, and he'd be bleeding out.

"Come with me."

#

Galvyn found himself being whisked through a tavern and into a hidden back room. There were banners hanging from the tavern walls. Black and purple banners with the golden crow. Princess' Corria's faction. The tavern was empty except for a burly barkeep who ignored what was happening as if it actually wasn't.

The backroom had a hidden door built into a bookcase. The bookcase swung open and Galvyn found himself being led through a narrow garden that had no other entrances or exits, save for a big red door that led into a stairwell. The stairwell led to a hallway, which led into another tavern with another discreet barkeep, and into another hidden room, and another garden, and finally into a crowded bathhouse.

All of the patrons of the bathhouse were women. Women of every shape, size, color, and race. All naked and soaking in steamy hot water. The air was thick with the smell of pussy. Galvyn would have considered this place to be heaven, if not for the knife in his back.

Despite their being a dozen witnesses, not a single one of them paid any special attention to Galvyn or the knife-wielding woman leading him. Glavyn wandered if they were all conspirators together, and this was some sort of criminal ring with very discreet members, but then he passed by a full-body mirror, and failing to see himself or his captor reflected in the mirror, he realized what was happening.

"Magic!" Galvyn gasped. "You've cloaked us!"

"Shut up!" the woman with the knife hissed. "They can still hear us."

Galvyn shut his mouth, but he couldn't resist reaching out and quickly groping every tight ass and perky breast he came by. A couple girls squeaked in fear, but quickly rationalized it as just their imagination, or that one of them was just being playful. Galvyn might have pressed his luck a bit too far when he came by a pretty young woman sitting with her legs spread wide open, and he shoved a finger knuckle-deep into her pussy.

"OH!" the woman cried, clutching her cunt.

"Stop it!" the knife-wielding woman whispered in Galvyn's ear. "Prod one more woman with a finger and I'll cut it off."

Galvyn finally started behaving himself, and after a few more twists and turns, he was finally led up into a very remote apartment that made up the top floor of a slender tower. There were windows ringing the full room, looking down on much of the city. The room was littered with books, scrolls, crystal balls, and other implements obviously belonging to a wizard. There was a single bed, a large one, that to Galvyn's keen senses had apparently never been used for sex. Despite the lack of cum in the mattress, Galvyn did almost trip over some skimpy lingerie, and he noticed a small shelf with an assortment of dildos and other sex-toys a girl would probably own.

"Sit down," the woman ordered. "Pour yourself some wine, if you want. Relax."

Galvyn didn't relax until the woman moved the knife away from his spleen. More than that, she actually tossed it away, and dropped her guard. She didn't seem intent on harming him, but mage's were tricky.

"You're a wizard?" Galvyn asked as her poured himself some wine. Despite the inconvenience of being kidnapped, Galvyn lived by a simple code: never pass up free pussy, and never pass up free wine.

"A witch. And not yet. I'm trying to be," the woman answered. "But magic is illegal in Nestingland. Only the priestesses are allowed to use charms or cast spells, but the church decides what spells are and are not legal. I've had to be discreet with my studies, and I have to practice in secrecy. That's something I plan to change once I'm queen."

"Queen?" Galvyn sputtered into his wine.

The woman dropped her rope. Beneath it was one of the loveliest, alluring, and eroitc women Galvyn had ever seen. Short but slender, narrow waist, nice bust, toned thighs, perfect posture, bubble butt, pale skin, purple eye-shadow, black eyeliner, black lipstick, and long black hair that looked silky and wet. The blackish purple dress she wore was so thin and sheer that it melted over every subtle curve of her perfect body, highlighting her erect nipples. The only jewelry she wore was a golden necklace with the emblem of a crow hanging from it.

"My name is Corria of House Aventitum, Princess of Nestingland," the sultry vixen said with a perfectly confident smile on her black lips. "I want to hire you, Galvyn the Sparrow."

"To do what?"

"I want you to fuck my sister."

#

A long and awkward silence passed between Galvyn and Princess Corria, most of it Galvyn spent staring gape-mouthed as Corria's deliciously erect nipples. Her dress was like a layer of chocolate melted over her body, and he wanted to lick it off her. Her her body was perfect, by his uncouth standards at least. She was far too curvaceous and lewd for a 'proper' beauty. Her raw sexuality oozed from her hour-glass form like perfume from a pungent flower.

"Is your sister as hot as you are?" Galvyn asked.

Princess Corria gave Galvyn a contemptuous smile. "I've led you at knife-point into a secret chamber to ask you to fuck my royal sister, and all you can think to ask if if she's hot or not?"

Galvyn shrugged.

Corria rolled her eyes. "Yeah. She's hot. She's really fucking hot. She's basically my exact twin physically, although for some reason she was born with blonde hair and blue eyes like our mother, but I got our father's black hair and dark brown eyes. Also, between you and me, I think her nipples are a little pinker."

Galvyn felt his cock swelling, and once again he amazed himself with his own insatiable virility. He had just finished breaking in Junebell (or whatever that hayseed's name was) right after pulverizing her mother Marianna (Galvyn couldn't remember her name either) and that was all after the night before which he spent impregnating an entire grove of nymphs to complete their annual fertility ritual (a story for another time).

"Alright," Galvyn grunted. "I'm interested in the job. What's it pay?"

Corria shrugged and smirked. "I'm planning on becoming this kingdom's next queen. I don't know. What do you want? I could give you an earldom if you wanted. What's it matter? Anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything! Gold, land, titles. Whatever!"

"Alright," Galvyn smiled. "I want as much gold as I can load onto a horse, AND I want to get to fuck you too."

Princess Corria sneered. Her expression was similar to the one a woman might have after accidentally tasting dogshit.

"There's a problem with that," Corria said.

"What?"

"The whole reason I want you to fuck my sister is because of my kingdom's retarded traditions. Namely, that a princess should be a virgin when she marries, and she shouldn't marry until after becoming queen. That and the ban on magic. If the public finds out I'm a witch not only will I lose my inheritance, I'll probably be burned at the stake. The same goes for sex."

"You said she 'should' be a virgin, though. Are you and your sister virgins?"

"Yes. Sort of. It depends on whether or not you consider girl-on-girl 'sex' or not. My kingdom does not. I could eat, finger, and fist every pussy in the city and no one would think I was slutty. If either my sister or I have sex with a man though, that's forbidden. My mother's High Priestess will know if we do. Vivianna Vergamon. She put a charm on both a sister and me that I haven't found a way to dispel it yet. The old bitch planted a rose bush in the public gardens. A white rose for Dolina. A black rose for me. If either of us get fucked by a man, our rose will wilt, and the other gets to become queen. Since the roses are out in public, anyone can see them."

Galvyn snorted. "I thought you said magic was banned in Nestingland. That sounds pretty magical."

"What my ignorant countryman considers 'witchcraft' and 'black magic' doesn't sour their impression of 'holy magic' that the thaumaturges use. Don't buy into the bullshit though. My magic is no different than Vivianna's. The only difference is that she was raised in the Holy Church as a priestess, with the oversight of the last High Priestess, whereas I learned my craft more clandestinely."

"So you're breaking the law by studying magic on your own. Curious about sex? I see you have a lot of toys. Do you want to get fucked by a man?"

Corria laughed. "Gross, no. Don't take it personally, but all men are disgusting shit-eating animals who shouldn't be allowed to own property or vote . . . in my opinion."

"Oh. You're a lesbian."

"Yeah, which is convenient for me. Dolina on the other hand has always been boy-crazy. There isn't a brush-handle or bedpost in the castle she hasn't impaled herself on. She used to beg me to use a didlo on her like I did with the maids. I was never able to satisfy her though, no matter how hard I fucked her. She's not a lesbian, and there really is no substitute for an actual cock if that's what you want. The only reason she hasn't jumped on every dick in Nestingland is because she wants to become queen as much as I do. I'm surprised the horny little retard has kept her legs closed this long. She's obsessed with cock."

Galvyn snapped his fingers. "So If I fuck Dolina and her rose wilts, everyone who walks through the public gardens will know, and then Vivianna Vergamon will have no choice but to coronate you as the next queen."

"That's the plan, man."

"But why me? I don't blame you for seeking out the best, which I am, but why not hire any handsome rogue to put your sister on her back? It shouldn't be that hard to arrange for her rape."

"Because she can't be raped. It needs to be consensual. I need you to seduce her like you did with that peasant slut. And there really is no one else. Literally everyone in the city is either one of Dolina's supporters or mine. None of her own men are stupid enough to ruin her chances of becoming queen by fucking her, and if one of my men do it she'll claim I hired them to rape her. I need her to get seduced by a neutral party. I've been monitoring the stables and taverns for just such a wandering cunt-buster, and so far you're the best bet I've found. I don't have time to keep looking for anyone better."

"Why not?"

Corria groaned and sat down. The impact of her perfect ass hitting her chair made her breasts jiggle slightly. Galvyn could tell that her tits were the perfect balance of firmness and bounciness that he liked.

"Because Dolina knows I've been illegally practicing magic, and she's already told Vivianna Vergamon. If Vivianna finds proof that I'm a witch, it won't matter if I'm a virgin and Dolina is the sluttiest little whore in the kingdom. The people hate witches even more than they hate slutty princesses. Vivianna is supposed to be neutral, but I know she dotes on Dolina like a spoiled pet. I think Vivianna wants to rule the kingdom, and Dolina will be her little slut-puppet. Those cunts are lining up against me, and sooner or later they'll have the proof they need to discredit me."

Galvyn groaned. "This sounds like some complicated political shit. I'm a thief and mercenary. I usually just steal shit and murder people for a living. 'Go there, take that.' And 'go there, murder him.' That kind of thing."

Corria inhaled deeply and leaned over, giving Galvyn a generous view of her perfect cleavage. Galvyn was instantly lost in it, like a fiery comet falling into an infinite universe. Her tits were simply perfect. He couldn't believe this young woman was only eighteen or nineteen years old. Her tits were fucking huge.

"I'll make this simple then. Fuck my sister. Fuck her hard. Make her your whore. Make her love it. If Vivianna Vergamon gets in the way, kill her. Deal?"

Galvyn's cock was ready to burst out of his pants. "Deal."

#

Princess Dolina of House Aventitum was a living goddess, both in the eyes of her people and in her own narcissistic mind as well. Tall, buxom, blond, blue-eyed. She had the body of a succubus and the face of an angel, which in tandem made her an irresistible nymph of inarticulable eroticm. The dresses she wore were tight, lacy, pristinely white, and usually so thin that her nipples poked through like iron studs. Her long blonde hair shimmered like liquid sunlight, and her flawless skin glistened with fragrant perspiration. The only thing that upset her perfect poise was how painfully obvious it was that Princess Dolina was hornier than a bitch in heat.

"Oh, Count Collin," Princess Dolina laughed with a nymphish jitter. "You're so funny. How blessed you are to be so humorous and handsome . . . mmmm."

Princess Dolina pushed her breasts against the muscular arm of Count Collin, and young man of twenty some years, and one of her many suitors. Dolina was surrounded by no less than five such suitors at the moment, each more handsome, virile, and wealthy than the last. As Dolina reclined in a cushioned couch, the five suitors showered her with their compliments and praise.

Count Collin of House Cottonbled, a handsome and muscular boy from a relatively humble rural family. Duke Varrick of House Strangethorn, a dark and brooding poet with smouldering eyes. Prince Shaka Kimbe, an exotic black-skinned warrior from the Southern Continent. Marcus Magus, a prominent alchemist from the Golden Guild. Jesper Holt of House Holt, the youngest and most adorable of Dolina's current suitors, with the perfect face of a cherub.

These five were but a sample of the dozens of suitors Princess Dolina entertained each week. All of them were handsome. All of them were wealthy. All of them were perfectly qualified to become her husband and Royal Consort.

Dolina didn't care about any of that though. All she cared about was sex. All she wanted was to meet the man who would destroy her excruciating virginity, and fuck her like a cheap filthy whore. She wanted cock. She wanted a really, really, really big cock. She wanted someone to slap her tits. She wanted someone to rip her ass open and cripple her. She wanted someone to pull on her hair and cum on her face. She wanted to get fucked the way her maids got fucked by the soldiers. She wanted to get fucked like the heroines in the erotic novels she collected. She wanted dick.

"Duke Varrick, I greatly enjoyed your last book of poetry you published. Especially those few that were a bit more . . . *ribald*," Dolina gasped. She had actually fingered herself mercilessly the other night to Duke Varrick's erotic prose.

"Thank you, Princess," Duke Varrick smirked with a knowing wink. "I actually have several poems that were rejected by my publisher for being too *ribald*. I could provide you a private reading."

Dolina nearly creamed herself. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from screaming "GOD YES! FUCK ME RIGHT HERE!"

"It is such a lovely day though," Prince Shaka interrupted with his thick baritone voice. "Wouldn't it be better to enjoy the outside with some athletic activity, rather than hide inside with poetry."

The mental image of Prince Shaka outside, shirtless, with beads of sweat pouring down his powerful black chest nearly caused Dolina to feint. She knew the rumors that the black men of the south were hung like horses, and the idea of losing her virginity to an especially large penis thrilled her. Childishly, she wondered if his semen might taste like chocolate.

"I love swimming, but I nearly drowned the last time I went. I'm such a fool," little Jesper pouted. He looked so cute pouting and being sad that Dolina just wanted to grab him and smother his face in her breasts. The mental image of the little noble sucking on her nipples almost caused her to rip her dress apart. She knew Jesper probably had a tiny penis, but that thought of dominating him and fucking him up the ass with a tool aroused her almost as much as the idea of getting fucked herself.

"Oh, you boys," Dolina giggled stupidly as she basked in the attention of her suitors.

The small room they occupied was getting hot, heated by the bodies of five strapping young men and one very horny young woman. It was becoming a sexual oven, and Dolina was ready to melt. Her panties were so wet that it was starting to show on her dress. She couldn't stand it. At any moment Dolina was going to pick one boy at random, drag him up to her bedroom, and fuck his brains out for the rest of eternity. Maybe she'd invite all five, and get gang-banged like a true whore.

"Princess Dolina, may I speak with you privately?" an older woman with a deep voice said.

The doors to the small room swung open, and in strode Vivianna Vergamon, High Priestess of Nestingland, and one of the few people in the kingdom permitted to use magic. She was a titan of woman, standing almost seven feet tall, with muscular arms and very firm buttocks. Her chest exploded outward with the largest breasts in the kingdom, each capped by a nipple the size of a child's thumb. Her curly white hair was held up in cumbersome bun, and her steely face was beautiful but stoic and cold. The priestesses of Nestingland were warriors as well as clerics, which was why Vivianna was built like a warhorse, yet dressed in a skimpy and revealing robe. Her cleavage was exposed by a circular window in her dress, and the hems of her skirt went far up her thighs, revealing the sides of her powerful legs.