Naveen Nights

Once upon a time there was a really awesome story on Literotica titled the Virgin Princess. The story was well written, skillfully crafted and very hot. It was thought that the name of the author was Marcl or Markl or Mikl or something like that. One day, as some days often do, an Evil Situation cast its indiscriminate randomness upon this story and poof - it was gone from the pages of Literotica. However stories are never really gone, they live forever in L-Space, a semi-mystical quantum consequent omniverse that binds the fractal nature of all libraries and prose collections together into a text derived singularity where the imagination of man is both trapped and set free to feast upon the grimoires of self delusion. And there the core idea of The Virgin Princess waited to spring free upon an unheeding world. All it needed was an empty mind and as luck would have it, the story found mine. Markl or Mikl or whomever, if you read this bastardization of your work, please - I implore you - repost it so the readership here can enjoy it again. Until that time the readership here is stuck with my version, which like many a Hollywood epic gone horribly wrong, is inspired by a good story...

Sir Emrys Lewthwaite was a knight errant, recently dubbed by King Alban Reinard himself, and the most junior knight of the tiny border kingdom of Naveen. As the most junior night of King Reynard's court he drew the most difficult tasks, and the tasks that garnered the least attention from the King. His current task was to venture out to the hinterland, to the southwestern corner of Naveen and scout for any signs of danger. There had been no word from two villages in this corner of the kingdom for weeks, Mycaelis Caimbeul, consul to the king and wizard as some said, suggested a sortie to this remote corner of the kingdom to investigate.

Emrys had few horsemen, but was able to gather a dozen mounts and saddles. He chose his strongest men to accompany him regardless of their riding skills. Soon their troop formed up in the castle keep and Emrys looked at his men who bobbled and wove in their saddles. "They'll learn or die," he thought glumly and they started off to the southwest leaving the cold safety of the castle Naveen behind. Days later when they reached the village of Rafer his men were indeed riding much more competently, the problems started when they dismounted and tried to walk on their aching legs. Sore muscles and aching backsides caused the once noble warriors to walk like castrated geese and curse like luckless fishermen. Emrys, who spent most of his life in the saddle, remained mounted as so not to show up his men, but also from saddle height he was able to see danger at a greater distance.

"The village is empty," said his swordmaster, Galfridus. "Not a sign of the people, just their livestock."

Emrys looked around, and Galfridus was right. Other than his men who were working the aches out of their backsides, the only living creatures to be seen were geese, ducks, hens, and a few cats. "Cattle," said Emrys under his breath.

"Pardon sir?" Galfridus asked.

"Cattle. There's no cattle. No dogs either. Nor are there any sheep or hogs."

Galfridus looked around and his master spoke true enough. "Nor goats, m'lord." Rafer was a poor village, but even the rudest of villages were home to goats and maybe a hog or two.

"Keep an eye on our men, old friend. Do not let them hitch their mounts but continue to lead them. Look for sign of a passing army. It appears that who or what ever came here took the largest and easiest to catch animals, most likely for provision."

"And the villagers, m'lord?"

Emrys let his lack of an answer speak volumes.

"Aye, m'lord," growled Galfridus and he led his horse away.

Emrys urged his horse forward slowly, his eyes scanning the ground carefully, and not liking what they were seeing. He saw many human footprints, and oddly none were shod. In the village center the dust was disturbed in such a way as to hint at a large dance, or scuffle, or fight, or... or... wrestling match? Emrys looked around intently, trying to learn the story of what happened through the language of the signs left in the village dust but was unable to grasp what happened. Suddenly his concentration was broken with a cry from the edge of the village. "Something here sir!" shouted one of his men.

Emrys urged his mount to where the shout originated. "Here sir!" called out one of his fighters. The knight looked around and soon the story was revealed to his eyes. All the signs pointed to a fighting force, probably not more than 20 in number, collecting the village population and herding them and the cattle they stole into the countryside. He glared at the foot prints in the soft earth. They were shod in military fashion, but the prints were both shorter and wider than normal foot prints. Everything about this looked wrong.

"Here sir!" called out Galfridus. When Emrys approached Galfridus pointed toward the ground with a stick, "here's where the marauders loaded the villagers in wagons or carts and took them off that a-way." He pointed in the direction of the road to Amergin.

"Everyone?" asked Emrys, "adults and children?"

"We've seen no sign of the children, sire, only adults. But we've seen no sign of the oldsters either. Whoever they are took the prime of the village folk."

Emrys looked off into the distance toward Amergin, which was the second village they were to investigate. It was better than a hard days ride to that village and their foe had several days lead on them. "Swordmaster, have two men remain to look for the children and the old timers. If they can be located lead them to safety in Naveen. If they can't be found the men are to join up with us in Amergin."

"Aye, sir."

"Troop! Mount up!" called the knight, adjusting his leather armor. "We ride!"

With groans the troopers mounted their horses, then following the trail of footprints and debris left by the marauders they headed into the setting sun toward Amergin.

* * * * *

The Queen of Naveen, Hannoria Dutentius-Reinard, groaned and rolled over in her spacious bed. She grabbed her large pillowy breasts and kneaded them with small delicate hands. Grinning slyly at her lover she drew her knees up and then spread them wide in invitation. Her lover, Clemens Brodie, the captain of the palace guard, took his place between her spread legs and thrust his throbbing cock into her hot liquid center and began servicing his queen.

The bed squeaked and groaned in protest as Brodie began hammering his cock in and out of his queen with all his strength. The headboard of the huge bed slammed against the stone castle wall, the sound of the heavy wooden knocking nearly drowning out Hannoria's shrieks and cries of pure rut. Brodie fucked harder at her wordless urging, slamming his throbbing cock in and out of her cunt in a frenzy of savage thrusts.

Now Hannoria began to groan in passion, she drew her legs up and nearly wrapped them around her paramour, but no - that would never do. He may mistake that action for a signal of affection, as if that would ever happen! The cock to pussy contact was enough, more than enough for someone of his station. "Great Maker!" she gasped and spread her legs even wider. "Fuck me you bastard!" her body shook as she accepted each slam of his cock into her pussy, his groin slapping hers loudly.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Harder you fucker!" she shrieked as she twisted her nipples. "Service me!"

Sweat broke out on Clemens hard muscled body as he held himself above the queen and thrust deeply into her wet cunt.

"Ugh...ugh... ugh..." her grunts came in time with Brodie's thrusts, her fingers clawed at her hard nipples, twisting and pulling sending jolts of pleasure from her large breasts to her clit which was being repeatedly slammed between their colliding bodies. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck MEEEEEE!!!" she shrieked as waves of orgasmic relief crashed over her body again and again until she was only dully aware of Clemens' frenzied rutting in her cunt.

With a graceful move she drew her small feet up, planted them against his chest and pushed him away hard. "Well done Captain. I am quite satisfied."

Clemens Brodie rose from the bed and tried to hide the shock and disappointment in his face. His cock however twitched and pulsed in frustration. "You highness," he gasped before collecting himself and standing at attention.

Hannoria smiled slyly and drew a coverlet over her lush body. "You have serviced me well, Captain, you are dismissed." She noticed his hesitation then looked down at his throbbing, pulsing cock. A thin stream of precome drooled from the end of his twitching pole. "You don't think I'd allow you to plant your common sperm in my body do you? In MY body? Go now! Find a wench or page to slake your lusts."

In frustration Clemens looked around the room, his gaze rested for a moment on one of the Queens handmaidens. "No!" the Queen barked, "My handmaidens are well above your position, which you obviously have forgotten. Must I have you reminded of how common your status as a soldier is?" Her snarl grew dark and cold. "Leave me and go fuck your fist, or maybe a scullery boy. You are dismissed."

The young captain gathered his clothing and left in flushed embarrassment and anger. He swore to himself he'd never allow himself to be used like that again, but deep down he knew that if his queen beckoned it was his duty to comply, and other than honor all he had was duty.

The queen's maids moved forward to help their mistress refresh herself and dress when the bedchamber door burst open and the king himself, Alban Reinard, strode into the queens bedchambers. "My palace guard is not some plaything..." he snarled as he advanced on Queen Hannoria.

"Oh please, he's naught but a farmer's son. Besides dying and fucking what other use could he possibly have?" she said haughtily.

"He's not some common street whore but a man of honor who pledged his life to protect your own worthless life..."

"Worthless life!" she shrieked, "Need I remind you that I am daughter of Renaldus Dutentius, king and lord of the entire eastern fringe?"

"I need no reminder of who your father is, however you may need a reminder of how worthless a queen who fails to bear a male heir is." The angry king advanced dropping his sword belt.

Hannoria edged back on the bed and pulled the covers up further as her angry husband advanced. The maidens retreated to their window seats and made themselves comfortable as they watched their king rape their queen. At least it was more entertaining than embroidery.

* * * * *

Not far away the royal couple's only child, Princess Amia heard her mother's cries of pain and humiliation slowly evolve into shrieks of passion and rut. The young princess threw herself back on her bed and allowed her hand to travel down her slim body, under her voluminous skirts to her moist pussy. Great Maker but her parents were perverse! Then with a sigh her finger found her clit and began to gently rub in time with her mother's increasing grunts of satisfaction.

* * * * *

As King Alban savagely fucked his wife, and as Sir Lewthwaite led his rag tag troop to the village of Amergin to determine the fate of that hamlet, a dark coach drew up in a copse of wood outside the village of Faolan. Faolan was a small village in the southwest hinterland of the kingdom of Naveen, it lies a hard days ride beyond Amergin, over two days from where Emrys Lewthwaite and his men currently paused to water their horses.

Had an observer noticed the coach they would have noticed some odd things about it. That the heavy window curtains were drawn on such a hot day, that the horses that drew the coach were as black as the coach, that the coach moved nearly silently; without jingle of buckle or harness and only the clop of hooves and crunch of wheel on gravel to mark its passing. Mostly the observer would notice that the coach had no driver or footman. The black horses that drew the coach halted without visible command and stood motionless.

A figure in a dark green cloak with hood over its head emerged from the dense woods and walked up to the coach. A hand emerged from the green cloak and opened the coach door and an elegant woman in a ruby red dress stepped wordlessly from the coach. The cloaked figure gestured to a ladder built into the side of the coach and the couple climbed to the roof of the coach. From their vantage point they had an excellent view of the village of Faolan.

The cloaked figure drew back the hood showing the face of a young man, bearded but his beard was shot with gray, as if he had seen too much of life in his short span. The woman who stood nearly as tall looked down on the village with slight amusement. "I hope you have more than this to entertain me, Mycaelis."

The young man, Mycaelis Caimbeul, smiled at the statuesque redheaded woman. "Madam Caelia, I'm sure you'll be heartily entertained.

"I should hope so," she said looking down on Mycaelis. Her green eyes flashed with blue lightning for a moment. "I hope I do not have to provide my own entertainment."

Mycaelis gestured to the village square below, the entertainment he promised was just beginning. A chorus of shrieks and shouts indicated that Mycaelis' forces had arrived. Soon a score of humanoid figures charged into the village square driving the town residents before them with the tridents and spears they were carrying.

Caelia gestured in the air before her and a shimmering circle appeared, through this she was able to see the happenings in the town square as closely as if she were standing there. The hairless, noseless figures were nearly man tall but broader of shoulder. Their skin was emerald green; if skin it could be called. The skin glinted in the sunlight and Caelia was sure they were covered with scales. Their eyes were yellow and slit vertically like a goat. Their arms were long and thickly muscled, ending in six fingered claws. Their bowed legs were short ending in wide flat feet that resembled hoofs. For apparel all they wore was an open vest which showed off their muscled chests, and a leather loin cloth which tented out hinting at what was underneath.

"Interesting creatures, what do you call them?" asked Caelia.

"They are drusi, creatures of lust and of the hunt."

"And how did you come by these strange creatures?" Caelia asked without taking her eyes from the glittering circle. In the circle she could see the drusi forcing the villagers into the center of the village. Several of them were herding the children and old folks out of the village square toward an old barn at the edge of town.

"They're a created creature, made from a dual summoning. I found if you summon an incubus and a basilisk into the same summoning circle the drusi is a result." Mycaelis answered in a voice as if he were reciting a recipe.

Now the drusi had the villagers rounded up and were terrorizing them with the tridents and spears. The contingent that led the youth and oldsters away returned and joined in the terror.

"That's it?" Caelia asked. "For what I'm paying you I expect something more than common pillaging.

"Just watch. The fun begins very soon, my ladyship," Mycaelis leered.

After a while three drusi separated a maiden from the cluster of villagers. She shrieked in terror as they pushed her away from the perceived safety of the group and into the center of the dusty village square. One drusi held her from behind while the other two removed their vests and loin cloths. Both sported magnificent emerald green erections with large dark purple heads. The brunette woman shrieked anew and began to fight the drusi's claws.

The naked drusi advanced upon her and began ripping her clothing away until she was naked as they were. Her snow white skin shone in the bright sunlight, contrasted by the dark delta between her legs and the red aureole that capped her large, bouncing breasts.

"No testicles?" asked Caelia.

"No, they do not reproduce. In fact their life span is barely longer than a week.

"So what is dripping from their phallus?"

"Oil of Azulee," said Mycaelis. He smiled at Caelia's sudden intake of breath. Oil of Azulee was considered mythical, but here were a score of demons dripping with the most powerful aphrodisiac in myth and legend. "If applied topically the effects will last at least a day."

"Very well done," she murmured as she watched the action begin in the village square. The two demons standing in front of the terrified nude woman stroked their cocks, their six fingered hands were covered with their secretions. One grabbed the woman's breast, the other cupped her vagina. Immediately the woman stopped struggling. Her mouth that was open to scream remained open, but no sound came out.

She started to shake as the effects of the oil began to course through her body. Her eyes went out of focus momentarily then suddenly all she could see were the two demonic cocks waiving in front of her face. Caelia could see the woman's breast swelling, her nipple hardening from the contact of the oil. Her vaginal lips were swelling too, and soon her own secretions were beginning to seep from her womanhood.

"When the drusi orgasm they release an even more concentrated form of Oil of Azulee," continued Mycaelis. "Topically the effects will last several days and can be transferred to another human. If their spend is ingested into the digestive tract either orally or anally the effects will last a week or longer." Mycaelis spoke in a plain voice, as if describing a simple alchemical formula instead of a psychosexual reaction that could shatter a person's psyche. "And of course if the recipient of the spend in penetrated by another person the effects are passed on to the penetrant."

At that moment the nude woman whimpered in need as a Druzi grabbed her thick hair and shoved his cock in her mouth. She sighed and let him pummel her face, thrusting deep into her mouth and throat. The demon pulled back and the three demons lifted her up and held her horizontally. One Druzi stood between her legs and lined his large cock with her pussy. She shook her head in unbelief when she saw the size of the cock that was getting ready to impale her, but she didn't try to stop him as he pushed forward in one long endless lunge, skewering her on his dripping cock.

If she felt pain at being stretched wider than ever before she showed no sign of it. She threw her head back and shrieked "OOOOHHHH GODS YES!" as the Drusi's pelvis slammed into hers. He may have caused her horrible internal damage but she was too far gone from the effects of the Oil of Azulee and she began shuddering as he slowly withdrew his throbbing lance.

The crowd watched in open mouth horror as one of their own was being ravished by the unspeakable demons and apparently loved every gut wrenching thrust of his thick long pole. The woman began gyrating her hips as he began thrusting in and out of her sodden pussy furiously. Her first orgasm happened almost immediately and her shrieks of delirious release echoed off the walls of the village buildings and drown out the fearful whimpers of the villagers.

"Oh my, this certainly is entertaining," said Caelia and she began removing her heavy ruby dress, while keeping her eyes focused on the rape that was taking place in the village square. The woman's orgasm was so powerful she contracted into the fetal position and began to shudder. The demons were not going to let her off so easily. One Drusi lay down on the ground and the other two lifted the shuddering woman who submissively allowed herself to be speared by the reclining Drusi's cock. Slowly she began to rise and fall on his unbending spike, driving it deeper and deeper into herself, soon her gasps and cries of forced lust began mixing with the cries of terror of the on looking villagers.