Breaking in a stallion

Irena strode into the throne room, with Marcus crying and crawling at her heels. The young prince glanced up through a mist of tears and when he saw his Father again he felt another **** sob work it's way up his throat. The King was on his knees in front of his throne, bent over with his arms tied behind his back. His hips were up in the air, but his face was pressed into the floor by the foot of the girl standing just behind him. Irena's vicious daughter, Felicia. She had something fastened to her naked thighs, straps of dark leather with what looked like a large dick carved out of ivory protruding from the front. As Marcus watched in horror, the awful girl slammed her hips forward and his Father groaned hoarsely. With each vicious trust she was shoving it right up his Father's butt!

Irena stalked forward, watching her daughter **** the King with a cool gaze. The young prince hung back for a moment, before she clicked her fingers again and he scampered after her, too afraid of that awful crop to disobey. As they approached, Felicia glanced up. Her pale face was flushed pink, her eyes gleaming with a cruel glint that would have sent shivers down Marcus' spine even if she weren't abusing his poor Father this awful way.

"Morning Mother." She cooed, her voice low and rough with a sick satisfaction that made the young prince's skin crawl.

"Still going at him?" Irena nodded down at the moaning King, her lips curled into a slight frown.

"Speak for yourself." Felicia replied. With a satisfied sigh, she pulled away from Marcus' Father, that awful carved dick popping free of the King's shivering body. He lay there limply, pressed against the floor like he didn't even have the strength to move. Marcus started forward, meaning to scamper to his Father and help. He hadn't even moved an inch before Irena's hand darted down and grabbed him firmly by the hair. She yanked him back into her leg and held him there tight. "You're practically glowing right now, Mother." Felicia continued, her cold eyes flickering down to the sobbing prince. "I can tell by the cowering you had just as much fun breaking yours in."

"Just a light punishment to teach him not to run from me." Irena sighed. "My little bunny's half tamed already and he has the most talented tongue." Her grip eased slightly, and her fingers ruffled through Marcus' hair like she was stroking a puppy. The young prince trembled and whimpered, still too scared to even try and pull away. What good would it do? They'd just hit him again if he tried to run.

"Is that so? Maybe I'll have to test that out some time." Felicia purred, leering down at Marcus. That horrible carved cock hung in front of her hips, looming over him. Marcus shrank closer towards Irena's leg. She was just awful, but he was getting the sense that her daughter was even worse. All he wanted to do was run and hug his poor Father, but these two cruel women just wouldn't let him!

He watched anxiously as Irena stepped forward. She crouched down over the limp King, and he gasped hoarsely as her hand landed on his back, stroking over the sweat-sheened skin. Cowering behind her, Marcus couldn't help but wonder why this awful woman was being so gentle all of a sudden. Her fingers slipped down to his Father's chin and she lifted the King's head up. His eyes were dull, his jaw slack as he stared back at her, and there were a lot more horrible bruises on his skin than last night. The young prince let out a strangled sob, horrified at the state his poor Father was in. How could anyone be so cruel?

"He looks exhausted." Irena murmured, something colder slipping into her voice as she tenderly stroked the King's bruised cheek. He groaned in pain as she touched a few of the sorer-looking spots, a trickle of blood leaking from his split lip.

"I let the other girls have him while I was asleep, told them to do whatever they wanted with him. The stupid prick was still being mouthy with them, at the start anyway." Felicia smirked triumphantly, not even seeming to notice the faint anger in her Mother's words. "He's been getting fucked one way or the other all night, when they weren't kicking him around."

"How dare you?" Irena snapped, her eyes flashing as they flickered up to her daughter.

"What?" Felicia stiffened, her mouth dropping open in shock.

"I want him tamed, not beaten to a pulp." Irena rose to her feet, glaring down at her shorter daughter with cold anger burning in her eyes. If she'd looked at him like that Marcus felt like he'd have frozen in utter terror, but Felicia stood her ground. "I gave him to you as a prize because you captured him, not as some sick amusement to be tossed like a scrap of meat to every single Huntress under your command. What if someone had hit him just a little too hard? He could have been killed. He looks half-dead already."

"Who cares?" Felicia sneered back. "He's just some worthless male. You should have heard what he said to me, Mother! Acting like he was better than me, calling me the most awful things! He deserved it!"

"No!" Irena shouted, her voice booming across the throne room. Her daughter froze, mouth snapping shut. "We are better than them. That's what this is about. They're animals, yes, but no animal is to be tormented without good reason. When we hurt them, it's to teach them their proper place. It's punishment for a purpose, not mindless cruelty like this." She waved her hand at the limp King, lying sprawled across the marble floor. "I thought you knew that, daughter."

"Mother...I..." Felicia stammered, going pale.

"Get out." Irena snapped, pointing at the door. "Go help the others load the carts for the journey back to Kapria. And while you work, think about how wrong this was." Her daughter nodded frantically, her hands shaking as she pulled the leather straps off her hips and yanked the carved dick away. She pulled down her robe back over her naked thighs, then scampered for the door, tears glistening in her eyes. Marcus couldn't help but shudder with relief when she was gone. He watched anxiously as Irena crouched down beside his Father, taking the King's head again in her hands. She stroked his hair gently, leaning down over him. "I'm sorry, Castor." She murmured, so softly he could only just about hear it. "You didn't deserve this."