of a King

The group of women were jeering and laughing. Between them lay Marcus' Father, King Castor Valerian, sprawled out on the stone floor of his own throne room. A pair of huntresses kept his arms pinned, while another sat firmly on top of his legs. He was struggling weakly, but hardly seemed to have the strength to move. And then, worst of all, there was a black-haired girl only around Marcus' age squatting over his crotch and bouncing herself up and down on top of him. She was naked from the waist down, and so was he, and just a haunted glance between her legs told the young prince exactly what was happening.

"Father!" Marcus screamed, pulling frantically at Irena's leash. A sharp tug yanked him back, the leather digging into his throat.

"Marcus!" The King spluttered. He bucked weakly against his captors, struggling to lift his head from the stone. The pair of women holding him down didn't even budge. His face was bruised and battered, and there was blood leaking down his brawny arm. Marcus sobbed helplessly. Seeing his brave, strong Father like this hurt him badly, stripping away the last scraps of hope he had left.

"Getting started without me?" Irena stalked forward, dragging him with her by the leash wrapped around her wrist.

"You should have made it here sooner if you wanted the first ride." The black-haired girl **** the King glanced up, a wicked smile on her pretty face. She bucked herself up and down once more, then straightened, her muscled legs shaking as she stepped off him and turned to face Irena. "Besides, I caught him, so he's my prize for the night, to do with as I please. Isn't that right Mother?" Marcus froze, glancing between these two awful women. The same raven hair and dark eyes.

"You caught him?" The huntress queen grinned back. "Well done, Felicia." She didn't even seem to care that she'd just seen her own daughter **** a man, nor that the younger girl was still standing there half naked.

"Stupid prick was trying to rally his soldiers for one last stand in the town square." The daughter, Felicia, chuckled cruelly. "Me and the girls just hung back and started sniping down his men, one by one putting arrows in their thick skulls. They all surrendered quickly enough. He still wanted a fight, even got me with that pretty sword of his once..." She pointed at a cut across her forehead, still oozing blood. "Gonna make a nice scar once it's healed."

"I'm so proud of you, honey!" Irena cooed. "Your first battle and you take a King!"

"Thanks Mum." Felicia puffed up her chest, smiling gleefully. Then her dark eyes flickered down the leash to Marcus. "Oh, and who's this?" She purred, looking him up and down like a hungry cat. The young prince covered his dick with one hand and his nipples with the other, his cheeks flushing despite his terror. A girl his own age looking at him naked like this felt even worse. Plus she was really scary, taller than him by a head and well muscled under her leather armor.

"This adorable little bunny is Marcus." Irena gave the leash another little tug, dragging him into her side. Again, her hand found his waist, callused fingers digging into his skin. She seemed to like grabbing him like this, and it felt just awful every time. "That one's son" She nodded to the King.

"The apple fell a little far from the tree." Felicia smirked, glancing back at the King. "Very cute though, so I'm guessing you're keeping him all for yourself."

"You know my tastes too well, daughter." Irena chuckled.

"Irena, you vicious cunt!" Marcus' Father snarled, suddenly finding the strength to speak. "Let him go!"

"Quiet, dog." One of the huntresses standing gave the King a vicious kick in the side. He coughed weakly, pain in his eyes.

"Hold on." Irena grunted. "Get him up. There's a couple things I need to say to dear Castor." The huntresses nodded and a pair of them grabbed the King by the shoulders. Working together, they lifted him back on to his feet, keeping his arms pinned behind him. He looked like he could hardly stand, his lips drawn tight with pain and his legs shaking. His brow and mane of dark brown hair was stained with sweat, and his hazel eyes were dull and listless. Marcus shuddered, a hoarse little sob painfully working its way up his tight throat. His poor Father! What had they done to him?