by Zadie Black
The voice once again filled the air around him. “Having trouble, good knight? Your queen will also be having trouble very shortly, I imagine. I don’t wish to be crude, but - the beast-man’s cock is quite enormous, and he ruts very savagely. I’m not sure our dear queen’s royal hole will be able to handle him. He might split her right in two.” Again, the mad sorcerer’s laughter boomed through the air.
Sir Richard knew that time was rapidly running out for his beautiful queen. Images of some enormous, savage cock thrusting into her orifices, again and again, flooded his mind. With a deep breath, he pushed these disturbing imaginings away. Instead of entering a state of rage, an icy calm descended over the knight. Running blindly through the maze, smacking into walls - it was getting him nowhere fast. He had to stop and think. There must be a way out of this.
“A way out,” Sir Richard muttered. He looked around him. A thousand reflections gazed back at him. Trying to solve the maze was playing the sorcerer’s game. “This maze itself is a trick,” he said aloud to his reflections, “and I’m finished falling for it.”
He smote the mirrored wall with the magic sword. The edge of the blade flickered white as it struck - and then the walls and mirrors flickered and vanished. Sir Richard found that he was standing in the center of a large underground hall with a vaulted ceiling. At the far end was a bank of large, free-standing cages with rusty iron bars - and the door to one of them was standing open.
He raced toward the cell. From within he heard a feminine moan and a loud, beastly grunting. He charged through the door. There he his eyes beheld two things: the queen, and the beast-man.
The queen was bound by a web of golden chains that kept her kneeling on the ground with her knees spread apart. Her arms were pulled back behind her body, her bosom up-thrust.
The beast-man appeared, from the torso up, to be a great black bear. It had small, beady eyes and a massive snout filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. Its clawed paws were the size of dinner plates. From the waist down, the thing was mostly a man, albeit a huge and hairy one. It had an enormous, fully erect phallus - which it was at that moment thrusting into Queen Aureola’s beautiful mouth.
Sir Richard moved like lightning, chopping downwards with the sword and severing the beastly cock at its base. The dismembered member dropped to the floor in a pool of blood, and the beast let out a deafening howl of pain and rage.
The creature whirled on him, swiping at him with the crushing power of its mighty paws. He stumbled backward. The creature’s claws tore into his leather jerkin, missing his flesh by the barest whisker.
Sir Richard found that his back was now against the bars of the cell. The beast-man was a full two feet taller than he was, and it was heavy with brute muscle. He knew that he would be swiftly overcome in a contest of sheer strength. He must take the initiative, keep the monster off balance.
He lashed out and struck at the thing’s grasping paws, striking glancing blows on each of its forearms. The sword drew blood, but the wounds seemed to have little effect on the creature. It lunged forward, seeking to crush the noble knight in its bone-splintering embrace. Sir Richard dropped to the floor and rolled between its mighty legs. Then he spun and slashed at the creature’s tendons. It roared and fell to its knees, clawing at the bars of the cage in pain. Then, seeming to master itself, it began to clamber unsteadily back to its feet.
Sir Richard had rolled back to his own feet next to the bound queen. The blank look on her face made it seem as though she was unaware of the titanic struggle going on right next to her. Sir Richard slashed at the chains that held her. The edge of the blade once more flashed white. The chains that bound the queen parted and fell away, and she collapsed in a heap.
The knight had no time to see to the queen any further, for the beast launched itself at him with a thunderous roar. He leaped backward as the monster aimed another crushing blow at his head. The beast-man lunged forward for the kill - and then its feet slipped upon the severed, bloody cock lying in the middle of the cage. For a brief moment, the creature was completely off balance.
Sir Richard looked up. The top of the cell, much like the walls, was made from iron bars. Before the beast-man could recover, he leaped up toward it and grabbed the bars above him. He let his momentum carry him forward into a kick aimed directly at its bear-ish snout.
The knight felt a satisfying crunching of bone and teeth as his kick connected. The monster tumbled over backward and sprawled on its back. Yelling a wordless battle cry, he let go, dropping down on top of the monster’s chest, driving his sword into its heart. The creature spasmed for an instant, and then lay still. The beast-man was dead.
“Dick?” Sir Richard turned to see Queen Aureola raising her head off the ground. “Is it truly you? What is that hideous thing? What is happening?”
“Come, your highness,” said Sir Richard, taking the queen by the hand and lifting her up off the ground. “Let us leave this awful cage. The wicked sorcerer Mordred sent this creature to defile you.”
“Praise be to St. Cherry that you arrived in time to stop it,” said the queen.
They stepped out of the cage and into the vaulted hall, well-lit with torches. Sir Richard turned to the queen. “Your majesty, I -” The words caught in his throat as he beheld Queen Aureola in the light. She was clothed, if that was the right word, as he had never before seen her. A golden collar was clasped across her slender throat, and there were golden manacles on her wrists. The ends of the chains that the knight had cut with his sword hung from them. Her slender arms were adorned with bands of gold. She was wearing a strange golden diadem amidst her lovely blonde tresses that he had never seen before. There was a ring with a large red gem on her finger.
Queen Aureola’s breasts were cupped by gold. Two scant breast-pieces, each crowned with a golden point, struggled to contain her ample bosoms. The pieces were bound tightly across her lovely chest by several fine chains, also of gold. On the lower half of her body, her nakedness was concealed only by a red velvet loincloth hanging between her thighs. It was suspended from a fine gold chain that hung low - very low - across her hips, as was a second strip hanging down over her buttocks.
It seemed to Sir Richard that his lovely queen was arrayed like a pagan princess from some barbarous land. Her bare flesh glowed with a sheen of moisture in the flickering torchlight. Her breasts jiggled and threatened to spill from behind their coverings with every movement she made. The knight had never desired anyone so much as he did the king’s wife at that moment. The front of his leather breeches suddenly felt very tight.
Queen Aureola blushed prettily beneath Sir Richard’s gaze. “It is no way for a queen to dress, I know, Dick. I had no choice. They told me I must wear it or go naked - I do remember that much. Do I look dreadful?”
The knight managed to swallow the lump in his throat and found his voice again. “N-not at all, you look extremely, ah - vivacious,” he blurted out. Sir Richard of the Lance, conqueror of many maidens, found himself blushing like a young page boy. “What else do you remember?” he asked quickly, to cover his sudden bashfulness.
The queen pursed her full lips, her lovely brow furrowing. “Only bits and pieces I’m afraid, Dick. I remember awaking from sleep to find that I was being carried away from the castle on horseback by that fiend Mordred. Then there was a long journey by night. Then we came here - I don’t remember how. I was given the strange garb I wear now, and then they chained me in that cage. That’s - that’s all I can recall.”
“Did they feed you? Give you water?”
“Yes - although they made me eat and drink on all fours, like - like a dog.” She shook her head and her golden tresses danced around her bare shoulders. “I have been humiliated, but not harmed.”
“Nonetheless, my queen, I will make them pay for their insults to your honor.” Sir Richard started to peel off his shredded leather jerkin.
“Here, let me help you with that, gallant knight,” said Queen Aure
ola. The knight raised his arms, and she pulled the hem of the ripped garment up his sweat-slicked torso and over his head.
In the light of the guttering torches, the queen beheld that her knight’s bare chest was densely thatched with dark hair. His knotted muscles were hard and sculpted. Even his stomach rippled with muscle, and a trail of dark, curly hair ran from his navel down below his belt, leading to -
The queen quickly turned away and said, “But enough pleasantries. We are underground somewhere, I think. How do we escape this awful place?”
Sir Richard looked back toward the archway through which he had entered after descending the stair. It was now completely blocked by massive stone slabs. He wondered when those had been put in place. At the near end of the hall, beyond the row of cages, stood a red wooden door.
“Not the way I came in, I’m afraid,” said the knight. “The sorcerer bid me brave whatever obstacles he set before me if I wished to rescue you. I fear that his little game has not yet played out in full.”
Queen Aureola set her jaw defiantly, and her deep blue eyes flashed. “Then, let us continue. I am not afraid, not with my brave and noble Dick close at hand.”
“I will not fail you, highness,” swore the knight.
On the far side of the wooden door, they discovered their next test. There was a long, wide corridor. On either side of it were set leering gargoyles with open mouths. At intervals powerful jets of flame would shoot out of the stony mouths of one or more gargoyles, completely blocking the corridor. Anyone caught in such a blast would doubtless be instantly incinerated. The heat in the room was intense. Sweat beaded amongst the dark thicket of hair on Sir Richard’s broad chest.
“I dislike this, your highness,” he said. “I would not expose your bare flesh to fire and flame. I will run this gauntlet alone. Perhaps at the other end there will be some mechanism for quenching the flame.” Bracing himself, the knight stepped forward. He knew full well that the flames would likely roast him like a cooked goose long before he won through.
“No, Dick,” said the queen, laying a restraining hand on his shoulder. “There is a pattern here, I think. Give me but a moment to apprehend it, and then we shall pass through together.”
Queen Aureola bent forward, brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to divine the pattern of the jets of flame. Even moments away from flaming death, Sir Richard could not help but notice how when she stood like this, the tops of her lovely bosoms spilled over the gold plates which cupped them. He was almost sure that he saw a sliver of brown areola peak from behind her scant coverings. Quickly, he turned away to look down the corridor. For a long moment, both watched as the arcs of flame guttered to life and then fell silent. Queen Aureola seemed to be counting under her breath. Suddenly, she stood erect, and said, “I think I have it, Dick. I shall lead. You must follow directly behind me, step-for-step. Are you ready?”
“Ready, my queen,” said Sir Richard.
“On my mark,” she said. “Now!” She sprinted directly towards the first flame that barred their way. Moments before her bare flesh touched it, the fire was quenched, and she passed through unharmed, the knight at her heels. Even as they reached the next jet of flame, Sir Richard heard the one they had just passed guttering back to life. But the next jet too switched off in the nick of time, letting them move forward unscathed. So it went for half a dozen more of the flame-spewing gargoyles before the queen put her hand against the knight’s naked chest and cried, “Hold!”
“Here the pattern changes,” she said, “But there is just room to stand and watch it. Wait a moment.” They stood pressed close together on the path, arcs of flame behind and before them. Sir Richard was suddenly very aware of the queen’s bare, tender flesh pressed against his own. Her skin was as soft and smooth as silk. He fancied he could feel her heart beating. They stood in this way for a span of three heartbeats, and then the queen cried “Now!” and they were off again. As before they reached each spurt of flame just as it sputtered out, and passed by a split second before it roared to life once more.
Suddenly, Sir Richard saw before them a new obstacle - a stone mouth set near the floor, ready to roast the feet of the unwary. The queen had not spotted it and was racing heedlessly forward. “Your Highness!” cried Sir Richard, and grabbed at the only thing that came to hand - the long piece of red fabric that covered the queen’s bottom. He gripped it and held tight. This arrested her movement just in the nick of time: the flame erupted inches from her bare toes. But Sir Richard felt the thin fabric beginning to tear. Queen Aureola waved her arms wildly to regain her balance. With a jerk, the red velvet tore loose from the chain around her hips, and she stumbled forward - just as the flame was quenched.
They found themselves standing in another safe spot, breathing heavily. “My thanks, good Dick,” said Queen Aureola. “That last one had escaped my notice.”
Ahead of them, they could see that the spigots of fire alternated - first high, then low.
“I am afraid we may have to do some leaping here, Dick,” said the queen.
“Never fear, highness,” said her knight. “It is the final stretch. You have lead us well so far. I will follow you.”
The Queen nodded curtly, face set with concentration. “Ready? Go!” she said and raced ahead. Sir Richard followed close behind. He had an excellent view of her bare bottom now. A thin golden chain, he saw, descended from the one around her hips and disappeared into the crevice between her lovely cheeks. When the queen leaped over the arcs of fire near the floor, her generous ass quivered delightfully.
Sir Richard’s wandering eye nearly cost him his life. He missed a step, and the last floor-level gout of flame set his leather breeches alight, even as he leaped to miss it. He landed and gave a loud cry of distress as fire licked up his legs.
“Dick! On the ground and roll, quick!” shouted Queen Aureola.
He did as instructed. He threw himself to the ground and rolled over and over as he tried to quench his burning legs. The queen hurled herself down on top him, beating at the flames with her bare hands. In a moment, the fire was out. Sir Richard lay on the ground while the queen knelt beside him, gasping for breath.
“Are you well, Dick?” she asked.
“I believe so,” panted the knight. “Ah, your pardon highness -” The knight blushed as he saw that one royal tit had escaped its covering and now presented itself to his eyes in all its glory. Queen Aureola’s lovely breast was full and heavy, yet perfectly shaped. Delicate blue veins traced across it. A wide, brown areola with a long, proudly erect nipple gave Sir Richard the sudden, instinctive urge to suckle it. Instead, he reached up and carefully tucked the royal teat back beneath its golden cup.
The queen blushed. “My thanks, good knight,” she murmured softly. “Oh look,” she said, “I fear your trousers are quite destroyed.”
Sir Richard looked down. Indeed, much of the leather that clad his muscular legs was now charred ash. Sir Richard stood up and pulled a dagger from his belt. Deftly he sliced away the charred legs of his breeches, leaving only a very brief leather garment about his loins.
“Now I miss my armor, which I left with my squire,” he said.
“It is good to see that your skin is not burned,” said Queen Aureola, inspecting his legs. They were sinewy and powerful indeed, and apparently unharmed by the fire. But she could not help but notice the expansive bulge at the front of his breeches. Whatever was in there was lengthy - and swollen. A rosy flush bloomed in her cheeks. Quickly she looked away from the handsome knight, now stripped down to almost nothing. “Come,” she said, “let us go forward. We have faced the fire - surely we can overcome anything.”
Another wooden door lead them out of halls of hewn stone and into a cavern carved only by the slow hands of time. Here there were no torches, but there was light. Fissures in the rock high above them admitted the occasional shaft of light to illuminate their gloomy surroundings. They advanced cautiously. A central path through t
he cave seemed to proceed straightforwardly.
Suddenly, Sir Richard thought he heard a thump. It sounded as if something had dropped onto the ground nearby. “Did you hear something?” he asked.
“Hear wha -” began Queen Aureola, when another thump sounded behind her. Both of them stopped and strained their eyes to peer into the darkness. “I think I see something moving,” said the queen.
“Where?” asked Sir Richard.
“There.”
“I see nothing.”
“No,” said Queen Aureola, shaking her head, “now it’s gone.”
There were two more thumps, one very close by Sir Richard’s feet. “I think I saw something that time!” he whispered.
The thumps began sounding all around them with alarming regularity. Things unseen seemed to be raining down about them.
“I don’t like this,” said the knight. “This is some new trick of that cursed sorcerer.”
“No doubt you speak true, Dick,” said the queen. “But what could it be?”
At that moment something fell on the path right next to the queen’s bare feet. She turned to see what it was. At her feet, a shiny black snake uncoiled with a hiss. Queen Aureola let out a piercing scream. “Serpents!” she cried. “It is raining serpents!”
Now it was clear to both that the cavern floor was alive with slithering shapes.
“Hold fast!” cried Sir Richard. “This is perhaps another illusion or spell of Mordred’s. Let me test it with the magic sword.” So saying he swung his weapon at a sinuous shape uncoiling on the rock next to him. With a clean snick the sword sent its head flying - landing with a plop on the queen’s bare toes. She squealed. The edge of the sword did not even flicker.
“They’re real!” said the queen in a shaky voice. “Oh Dick, oh Dick, I have such a fear of snakes!”