Dabria stood by her father, pointing into the darkness. Two torches gleamed in the distance. “They come,” she whispered. “Magna and the dark one. They bring the princess.”
“Just as Anwir promised,” Bolthor groaned. He stroked himself expectantly beneath his royal silver girdle, a masterpiece of military fashion adorned with precious stones. The power of his manhood raised its gaudy weight like the hump of a camel.
“Preparing yourself already?” Bolthor’s wife glanced at her husband’s girded loins and smoothed her hands down his muscular torso. She had watched this man rape many women in battle while fighting by his side during the heat of conquest. Most had died from the sheer magnitude of his cock; agonizing deaths that had lasted for hours, their writhing bodies bleeding in the heat of the sun.
Bolthor was a merciless warrior who thought nothing of torturing innocent damsels while their husbands looked on before being decapitated. Lilith admired her handsome man’s ruthlessness and enjoyed the menacing pleasure of watching him shred pussies to pieces.
“I am two days without the clinch of your cunt, woman, and I’m told the daughter of Silas is a virgin,” said the king.
“That she is, my dear majesty… as tight and unblemished as your own innocent daughter.” Lilith looked at Dabria and winked. The young girl giggled maniacally, elated at the prospect of watching her father split the unsuspecting princess in half. Dabria had secretly touched her father before and held him while the guards were preparing his armor. She knew of his girth and longed for a demonstration of his virility.
Lilith scraped her sharp nails across Bolthor’s maroon nipples. “You will obliterate the vestal sex of your enemy’s daughter. You will pummel her celibate womb.” Her husband’s breath hitched with both pain and excitement. He loved nothing more than to brutally fuck a woman to death with his wife looking on, shamelessly pleasing herself into a frothy climax.
“I know how you like me to watch,” Lilith continued. “Your daughter requests to watch as well.”
“It is not a thing for one so young to witness.” Bolthor sat up on his throne, arranging himself for the company’s arrival. “It’s best you should send her away.”
“But father,” Dabria objected. “I’m soon to turn of age. I should know the ways of men and their pleasure. Besides, I’ve held your cock in my hands, and I want to see you use it.”
“Your daughter deserves to know how you punish your enemies,” added Lilith. “You have shown her your spear. Now thrust it to the satisfaction of a young girl’s curiosity. Bury your weapon deep, my king. Grind out your wrath.”
“Your excellency!” General Magna steadied his horse, having arrived with his audience before the king. He held in his hand the reins of the white steed. “May I present to you Princess Amira, daughter of Silas, jewel of the desert. She comes at your request, a gift from her father, a sentiment of peace.”
Bolthor nodded, admiring the girl’s beauty which was truly magnificent. Her figure and assets seeped through the translucent fabric of her gown, making her even more alluring than if she were completely naked.
“Help the princess dismount so she may kneel before the throne,” instructed Lilith. The General obliged the queen’s request and aided Amira off her horse. She fell to her knees with a nudge from Magna, who placed both his hands on her shoulders.
“What say you, princess?” asked Bolthor.
“My father has sent me betrothed that I may give you myself untouched by other men and bear you many children.”
Bolthor took a sip from his golden goblet and casually peered out at the awakening dawn. “But I already have a wife and a princess of my own? What then am I to do with you?”
Amira shuddered at the king’s response. “Your majesty,” she replied, “my father understood you had asked for my hand in exchange for peace. Do you not take more than one wife as is the privilege of kings?”
“My wife is a jealous wife, and my daughter is a jealous princess. They would have me kill any woman who would seduce me out of wedlock.”
“But that is not my intention, your highness. I have been sent…”
“Silence!” Bolthor stood up. “You come to me in sheer linens so slick with oil that your skin clings to the fabric that envelops you. I can see your tits and your cunt. You are a common whore, and your father is nothing but a pimp.”
“But I am gifted to you!” cried Amira, tears streaming down her face.
“A gift is a thing that cannot be taken.” Bolthor sat back down between his wife and his daughter. “Your father has nothing that I cannot take on my own, and I will take away everything he has… his land, his people, and his life. I will pluck out the sweet and discard the bitter. I will taste whatever pleases me and devour the things Silas adores. I will start with his daughter.”
Amira collapsed in the sand, face down and weeping.
“Remove her garments,” the queen demanded. The General leaned forward and began unbuttoning Amira’s dress. “Rip them away,” Lilith insisted. “She won’t be needing them.”
– Tw0 days hence –
From the West came a rider in the half-light of morning, a shadow that seemed to float across the sand. She arrived silent as a breeze, tan and petite, youthful and toned.
“I seek Silas, king of Goff.”
“I am Silas,” answered the curious king. “Who are you and what is your business?”
“My name is Lotus,” replied the girl. “Angel of the seven winds. My people call me the desert flower.”
“And what do you want of me?” asked Silas.
“I am sent to protect you, to save your nation from destruction.”
“You are nothing but a little girl,” Silas noted, waving her away like an insect. “God has spoken; my nation’s salvation is at hand. We have no need for children to lead us into battle.”
“I am sent by the creator and the guardian, dear king. There were no instructions to precede me… only faith and understanding of the ancient word, the promises of God to his people. What have you heard? Whose word have you obeyed, and where is your holy advisor?”
“Eli was slain by the gold general, a man they call Magna, who rode with the dark rider.”
“And where is your daughter, the princess?” inquired the girl.
“She is betrothed to Bolthon, king of Lathens.”
“What!” Lotus looked towards the East at the rising sun. “You foolish old man! How could you have done this?”
“You cannot speak to a king this way!” roared Silas.
“I will speak to the king as God would speak,” the girl insisted. “I will say what God would say, for I am sent to redeem your people. Yet, you have cast away your redemption!”
“I have gifted my daughter in the name of peace.”
“You have handed her over to MURDERERS! Who has told you to do this, and how did you come to believe them?” Lotus responded.
“I have heard voices. I have seen visions. God has approached me in my dreams.”
Lotus looked over at a young man standing beside the empty tent of the princess. Her glaring eyes burned through his heart, and he disappeared into the desolate, royal quarters, timid and afraid that his sins should find him out.
“You have been misguided, old man. Your house is in disarray, and you are weak to the demands of devils. Even now, King Bolthon prepares your daughter for return to your people.”
“Has the king refused my daughter’s hand?” Silas suddenly trembled.
Lotus spoke with authority, wisdom and truth. “He has ruined her, foolish man. He satisfied his lust and ripped her to pieces. Her virgin essence has been splattered across the desert. The jewel has been crushed into powder like the dust of your ancestors.”
Silas cried out and fell to his knees as if a cloak of deception had abruptly been lifted, and he could see all too late the clarity of chaos that surrounded him.
A white horse approached in the distance…