“Anwir! Magna!” The queen motioned to her generals. “Drag the princess of Goff in her gracious glory to the sacred stone of sacrifice. Display her naked body to the lustful crowd that they may reach out and touch her sweaty skin. Let them feel the welts and taste the blood from her wounds. The people are hungry to see her suffer. Bolthor will not disappoint them.”
The dark rider and Magna both lifted the girl, their hands under each of her armpits. They pulled her along with her tits facing the sky, head limply hanging backwards below her shoulders, hair brushing the ground, legs flaccid and splayed, heels scuffing across the rocks of the desert floor.
Amira made no sound, no effort to resist as they dropped her on the cool, flat granite and spread her wide open to the eyes of many.
“Behold,” said the queen. “The daughter of King Silas in all her magnificence. Her beauty is legend… but what of her cunt that Bolthor has stretched? You can see straight up her sloppy, pink snatch.”
Lilith leaned forward and fingered the girl’s succulent clit, lifting its hood with the tip of her nail before massaging the meaty lump of raw nerves. The princess gasped and flexed her extremities. Hanging off the cliff of consciousness, the beauty yielded to the queen’s touch like a hound being scratched on its belly. Lilith caressed the bare button until Amira was on the edge of climax, then viciously squeezed her swollen bead like a pimple.
“The jewel of the desert has become the king’s wanton slut. She has taken his cock and his sperm out of wedlock. She has refused his request for marriage and humiliated your queen. Observe, then, as your king changes his form and prepares for Amira’s slaughter.”
Lilith stroked her husband, initiating the metamorphosis of man to beast. The legs and the hips grew wider. The feet folded into hooves. The skin sprouted a shiny coat of fur… and the penis became enormous, as long as a javelin. Bolthor had become a Centaur, half man… half horse… and fully erect.
“See now, sweet daughter, how your father splits open our enemy’s wench! Watch and be eagerly satisfied by her screams. Study every devastating stroke. Satiate your curiosity with the sound of ripping flesh and the anguish of annihilation.”
Bolthor pressed the head of his massive shaft against the delicate lips of Amira’s pussy. He pushed and he pushed until her soft slit gave way to his colossal intrusion. The massively thick pole plowed deep into the gorgeous girl’s guts. With a whimper, she was speared and suspended, motionless and terrified, fatally wounded.
“Shove it deeper,” growled the queen. “Shove it harder! Ram it all the way through her till it sticks out her mouth.” The crowd was stunned. Even Bolthor was taken back by the request.
“The child,” the king responded. “It is too brutal for her to see.”
“What say you, Dabria? Are you skittish to the sight of death?” Lilith fisted Amira’s hair and jerked back her labile head. “This girl is your own age. It is right for you to witness her suffering and declare your preferences for torture.”
“Fuck her daddy!” Dabria palmed the horse’s testicles just imagining the load of spunk they contained. “Pierce her through and through until you’ve punctured every organ. Make her fit for a spit roast on your skewer.”
“As you wish, my daughter… true princess of the desert, fruit of my passion, glory of my kingdom.” Bolthor heaved a gigantic thrust and penetrated Amira completely, his bloody dick protruding from her pretty little mouth. She gagged and gurgled before he pulled back to fuck her more thoroughly.
When the king finally ejaculated, it was a sea of pink cream like a strawberry milkshake that poured out the young girl’s pussy. Amira was terminally damaged, shredded inside like the pieces of her translucent dress that had long since been discarded.
And the fucking continued until the princess collapsed, balled up and sobbing in the fetal position.
“Have you satisfied your horse cock, daddy? Have you thoroughly emptied your balls?” Dabria relished the surprise in her father’s expression. He was desperate to hide how her comments excited him. Even now, he was hard for another round, but the princess of Goff was ruined and dying.
“She has little time,” responded Bolthor. “I intend to send her back to her father.”
“So, you shall,” answered Dabria. “But first we will remove her most intimate pieces. Step forward, Anwir, and unsheathe your sword.” The dark rider complied, curious as to Dabria’s intentions. “Slice off her tits,” ordered the princess of Lathens, “and hang them round the neck of the fabled white stallion”. Anwir leaned over and sliced off each breast like a hot knife through butter. He gathered them up and stabbed each one with an iron hook before draping them decoratively on the horse.
“Magna, cut off her clit. Shove it, when you’re done, as far as you can up her ass.”
“As you wish, my princess.” And so, the dismemberment was completed. Amira was a bloody mess, trembling and barely alive.
“Shall we drape the princess across the back of her silver steed and send her to Silas?” General Magna was collecting the pale horse while Anwir reached for Amira.
“You may send her tits back ahead of her,” Dabria insisted. The white horse will carry her severed globes. The pony will follow with the princess tied beneath.”
“Tied beneath? For what reason?” Anwir couldn’t imagine the decadence of Dabria.
“You will shove the pony’s cock down her throat so that he fucks her face as he gallops. By the time Silas sees his daughter, she will have choked to death on the horse’s cum.”