The panic stricken peasant fell to his knees, both hands clasped together imploringly. His
whole body began to shake jelly-like as Prince Vulkan slowly dismounted from his horse.
The haughty young nobleman’s handsome, yet spiteful face creased up into a vindictive
frown as he advanced upon the hapless figure.
“How dare you withhold tax from the king you filthy, whingeing swine,” the
short-tempered prince screamed at the top of his voice. Punctuating his harsh words with a
hail of withering blows from his riding quirt; lacing into the miller’s face with the
supple, stinging leather until the sobbing man threw himself prostrate into the dirt at
the nobleman’s feet.
“Mercy! Highness! Mercy!” the man begged wretchedly, “the drought has made
the river all but disappear and without water the mill wheel will not turn and so I cannot
earn enough to feed my family and pay the king’s taxes,” the miller’s voice became even
more wretched, “please Highness, I beg you and your gracious father to give me more time
to pay.”
The slender prince’s narrow chest seemed to swell with an even greater volume
of outrage.
“More time? more time? have you no beasts of burden with which to turn the
mill wheel you indolent pig?” he roared, at the same time planting his boot into the back
of the miller’s neck, cruelly grinding the terrified, blubbering face into the dank
earth.
“P-p-please Highness,” the miller begged again, his voice quavering so much
he could barely speak, “we had to slaughter our only bullock for meat and now I have only
my wife and daughter to help me in the mill.”
Prince Vulkan took time-out to look slowly around the small collection of
tumbledown buildings and ramshackle yard. His mobile, twisting expression a cruel parody
of confusion and indecision that instantly had his men smirking and nudging one another as
they enjoyed their master’s sinister sense of humour.
“Well then,” the noble youth breathed at last, “let us get both of the lazy
peasant sows out here and we shall see how well they turn the wheel with my whip dancing
across their idle backs!”
Vulkan nodded curtly to his sergeant-at-arms; a barrel-chested giant of a
man, who immediately disappeared into the nearby cottage to emerge a few moments later
dragging the two terrified woman behind him, his huge fists buried in their tangled hair.
“On your knees before Prince Vulkan you mangy sluts,” growled the lackey,
pitching both females face down into the dirt as he spoke.
The prince slapped his quirt under the wife’s quivering chin and jerked her
face up to the sky. The woman may have once been enough, but after twenty odd years of
over-taxed poverty and unending toil, her face was lined and tired looking and the sagging
bundle of her bosom seemed almost to reach down to her waist. Allowing the mother’s head
to fall, Vulkan next tapped the plaited haft of his quirt under the daughter’s chin and
was pleasantly surprised to find a fresh and decidedly pretty face suddenly looking up at
him, fear and uncertainty writ clearly in the cast of the large, moist brown eyes.
“Stand up trollop,” the prince commanded, his voice softening subconsciously
as all thoughts of putting the young girl to the mill wheel faded. His erstwhile peevish
mood suddenly began to mellow. The girl climbed hesitantly to her feet to stand fidgeting
- gnawing fretfully at the fulsome redness of her lips. She averted her doe-like eyes as
the prince lifted her homespun calico dress to expose her shapely teenage thighs; the
smooth, pale flesh leading his lascivious gaze inevitably up to the downy pubic mound with
its delicate, tightly sealed lips nestling below the gently curving dome of her belly.
“Very well, sirrah,” the prince said at last, his rage finally subsiding, “I
will grant you more time to pay. But that time and my father’s inconvenience must be paid
for by an afternoon’s use of your charming daughter here.”
The miller’s voice, whether in protest, or relief, simply came out as a
strangled gurgle as Vulkan continued to stand uncaringly on his neck.
Flashing a generous smile the prince turned to his grinning men.
“Tie the stupid old bastard up to yonder gatepost and flog some respect into
him,” he said, beginning to drag the reluctant teenager off toward the nearby barn, “and
then you lot can fuck some happiness into the girl’s mother, she looks as if she could
sorely use it.”
As he spoke the miller’s wife began to wail hysterically, her head shaking wildly from
side-to-side. The terrified woman suddenly leapt to her feet and ran from man-to-man,
imploring each grinning soldier to show her mercy. Her cries suddenly turned to shrieks of
horror however, as a pair of laughing troopers began to pull her this way and that between
them, ripping her already shoddy dress into long tatters. Exposing her swaying udders and
broad, dimpled rump as they suddenly pounced upon her and dragged her howling back into
the mill for the first of that afternoon’s many fuckings.
The laughing prince closed the barn door behind him and turned to face the
girl who stood paralysed. She stared mutely at him, her small fingers clutching at the
neck and hem of her baggy peasant smock.
“We will lie over there,” he said, indicating a fresh pile of straw in the
corner, “take off your dress so that I can see what you have for me.”
The girl shook her head slowly from side-to-side and backed up a step.
“Please,” she whimpered, “please let me go master.” Her voice sounded small
in the large barn and the pathetic sound of it brought the first serious twitch of
interest from the prince’s slowly swelling cock.
The noble smiled coldly at her.
“If you give me any trouble slut,” he threatened, his voice once again taking
on a brittle, menacing edge, “I’ll turn you over to my men for a taste of what your
miserable parents are getting.”
As he spoke, the crack of the first lash ripping into her father’s back
echoed across the yard. Followed immediately by his high-pitched scream as the flesh over
his ribs was split apart by the coarse leather tongue of the big sergeant’s bullwhip. The
hellish sound made the girl flinch and after a brief moment of agonised indecision, she
dropped her hands slowly to her sides. A dread feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed her as
she resigned herself to her fate. She watched mesmerized as the prince stripped off his
rich garments, exposing his slender, pale body to her until finally he stood naked, his
cock sticking straight out from the fuzz of blonde pubic hair. The girl had never seen an
erect penis before and the strangeness of it filled her young mind with profound
disquiet.
Hissing impatiently, Vulkan took hold of the neck of her peasant dress and
tore the flimsy garment straight down the centre, casting away the ruined material so that
she finally stood nude before him.
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