THE KING'S DUNGEON


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THE KING'S DUNGEON
BY POWERONE


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FROM DEEP IN THE DUNGEONS OF THE CASTLE!

The King and his noblemen pursued a life of unbridled lust with those that submitted to their power by choice or for the unfortunate, in the dungeons below the castle where bondage insured their submission. Nothing is forbidden for the privileged, not even the unspeakable taboos of society. “King’s Dungeon” is set in the 11th century where men dominate and woman had no choice but to submit to any and all depravities that only a man could conceive.

King Rulf, after conquering his enemies, returns to take his rightful place on the throne with a wife to bear him many heirs. But there is always time to find his pleasures in the bedrooms of any woman he desires or to satisfy his jaded lust in the dungeons.

BANNED ON AMAZON AS "THE KING'S DUNGEON" BUT NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM AS "THE KING'S CHATTEL THE KINDLE VERSION ON SALE HERE



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EXCERPT

Chapter 1

Boy Warrior

They lay siege to Alencon in the Normandy province for thirty days and thirty nights. The smell of rotting flesh filled the air; the fires behind the walls of the city burned as many of the dead as it could, but they couldn’t keep up. If it weren’t the army at their gates that would kill them, it was the hunger and disease. It was almost over, but the last of the soldiers refused to surrender.

Outside the city, the army of Prince Rulf camped out. Over fifteen thousand men spread out over the rolling hills, their fires burned brightly at night; their arrows flew with accuracy during the day. Alencon was the last stronghold to take, and then, they could go home to England, victorious in their campaign to rid the world of the Norman Empire that had ruled England so unmercifully. The Normans were banished from England, but Walter, King of England, had sent his only boy to lead his armies to smash the homeland of the Normans forever. Prince Rulf had been at it for over a year and yearned to go home to a quiet life and find a wife to give him an heir.

Rulf sat around the table in the tent, surrounded by his generals as they planned the final attack. “I’m sick of being called the Boy Warrior! Take the city and my name will go down in history.”

“Aye, Aye,” the generals shouted out. They had been with Prince Rulf since the beginning, laying allegiance to him from the outset of the invasion of Normandy. They had taken over two dozen towns. Once each town was taken, the men took their rewards from the people, taking anything of valuable, the women just another prize. The Norman province would be home to a lot of English bastards in the year to come.

“We will storm the walls just before the sun rises in the East. I want every soldier out there. The last thing they will see is an English soldier shoving his blade through their bellies and gutting them like pigs. Don’t return until the city runs red in blood!” Rulf knew that victory was his in the morning. Tomorrow night, they would celebrate; the next day, the city would burn.

“Long live Prince Rulf, long live King Walter. Victory, victory,” the generals chanted. There was no denying Prince Rulf his dues, not if you wanted to live. Any man would lay down his life for him, and tomorrow, many would.

* * * *

As the darkness gave way to the light of day, an eerie quiet fell, and then, all hell broke loose. One thousand archers made the sky grow dark once again as their arrows blanketed the sky. They sent ten volleys of arrows into the castle walls, and then, the infantry advanced on the gates, heavy wagons loaded with pointed logs charged the gates. The gates only held for minutes, and as the gates splintered into hundreds of pieces, the armored soldiers broke inside the walls. It was a brief skirmish for the overwhelming odds of Prince Rulf’s men before the last of the defenders were crushed; the cobblestone streets ran red with their blood. With little resistance, Rulf’s army filled the streets of Alencon, killing all they could find—men, woman, even children were massacred.

The sounds of his men yelling out their triumph greeted Prince Rulf’s arrival as he rode majestically on his white horse into the gated city, his boyhood friend Zane alongside him. The screams of women rose up higher as he neared the castle steps, home to the Baron Louis of Alencon and his queen, Lady Colette. His men had started taking all the treasures of the city, and the women were taken for the soldier’s pleasure. The celebration would go on for a day; Prince Rulf would have his generals and leaders celebration inside the castle where the baron once held reign.

“Find me Baron Louis. Ten gold pieces to the man that brings him to me, dead or alive.” The word spread quickly, Rulf would soon have one of his prizes. He bent over the low doorway as he rode his horse into the giant chambers, the marble floors covered with dead soldiers that defended the royal family that lived there. He finally dismounted as he approached the throne that had been the baron’s.

“Clean up these bodies and find me some wine. It is time to celebrate.” It took only minutes before Rulf had wine in his hand, drinking out of a golden chalice. He walked up to the throne. “Sit with me, Zane. I doubt Lady Colette will mind that you take her throne.”

Though Zane was not of royal linage, he held a special place with Prince Rulf. They had grown up together and shared many adventures. King Walter entrusted his son’s life with Zane, and Zane would do anything to protect him, even giving up his own life. Life was good with Prince Rulf; women plentiful and available, food and drink overflowing. Life in the last year had been harsh with the war, but there were rewards. They would soon set sail to go home triumphant. He gazed out over the large hall, filled with statues; the French loved half-naked women and so did he. The floors were tiled in marble, a large fountain in the center of the room. The soldiers pulled down the baron’s pennants, and King Walter’s flags flew in their place. It was beginning to look more like a celebration hall than a death chamber.

The soldiers had stripped the French girls for the prince’s enjoyment, naked to the waist; bare-breasted French girls began to bring out food and more ale. Zane’s cock grew hard as he saw the young, nubile girls with firm breasts and big nipples strut in front of him. They spoke in gibberish, Zane never learned French, but the soldiers easily translated with pain, the pricks of a sword into their cute ass made them move and squeal.

At last, they brought him in, though he barely looked regal any longer. “He was hiding in a sewer, covered in waste, shivering in fear.” The soldier was proud that he got him for his prince, and he would be rich with the reward. His courage would be regaled for years to come at home. “Your Highness, I give you Baron Louis of Alencon.” He pushed the filthy baron to the floor. “Kneel to your Master.” He kicked him in the arse as the baron cowered. “Not so brave any longer, Baron. You shiver in fear like a woman.” Prince Rulf stood up and walked over to him, his sword in his hand.

“Spare me,” the baron spat out in desperation.

Prince Rulf walked behind the kneeling baron, and his sword rose up high before it came crashing down. The power of his blow sliced off the baron’s head so neatly, blood shot out like a river from the arteries as the body twitched on the floor in a pool of red blood. “So much for the Baron Louis of Alencon,” he laughed loudly. “Wrap his head in burlap and place it next to my throne. Throw the rest of him to the pigs. The people that survive our carnage can eat him in the future as a remembrance.”

The celebration began in earnest now that the baron was no longer. The last of the mess was cleaned up, a large table brought in and the bare-breasted servers began to fill it with food. The city might have been starving, but the baron wasn’t. Roasted pig, chicken, fruits and vegetables filled the tables. Wine and ale flowed freely. The servers moved fast, their breasts and asses rubbed, pinched and molested the moment they relaxed. More and more French girls were brought in as the generals and their officers sat down at the table to fill their bellies. Then, they would satisfy their lust, the French servers would serve up their bodies to their victors.

Prince Rulf was enjoying himself, but he was waiting for the guest of honor. “Has anyone found Lady Colette?”

“She will be down in a minute, Prince Rulf. She is preparing herself.” The captain of the guard had it under control. They found her upstairs in her chambers as though nothing was happening. She even had her ladies in waiting with her as though she could protect them.

“I do love a woman that is well cared for. I am sure that she will be worth the wait.”

“A special treat, Prince Rulf. We thought that she had escaped, but we found her just outside the gates, the baron’s daughter, Renee. I can assure you, Prince Rulf, she is worth the wait. A maiden they say, just turned eighteen. She was betrothed to another, but the nuptials had not occurred yet and the marriage not consummated.”

“You’ve done well, Captain. There will be a reward for you. The lady and her daughter will provide nice entertainment for our celebration.”

“Thank you, Prince Rulf. I will hasten their arrival.” He was off to get them. They didn’t need to spend so much time getting ready; their clothes wouldn’t last long.

Everyone turned to hear the commotion, Lady Colette yelled as the captain shoved her forward, but Prince Rulf’s eyes were on the beauty of her daughter. Both women were dressed elegantly, as though they were going to a ball—full gowns with skirts that pushed out, but what drew Prince Rulf’s eyes were the low cut of the dresses and the lovely, naked cleavage that showed. Both women were full breasted, Renee’s breasts pushed up naturally while Lady Colette probably had help to push them up so high, yet they were a lovely pair to behold. Four ladies in waiting followed them, though you could see the fear on their faces. Lady Colette should have the same fear, but she was obstinate and had been used to getting her own way for too long. They were finally pushed in front of Prince Rulf.

“How dare you treat us like your whores,” Lady Colette screamed out. The two men seated on the thrones were dirty and unkempt, and she was sure that the stench she smelled came from them.

“I would be careful of your tongue, Lady Colette. This is no longer your city but mine. I am Prince Rulf, only son of Walter, King of England. We have conquered your city.” He stood up, overshadowing the two diminutive women.

Renee looked at him, so big, his arms huge, his chest pushed out and thick thighs in his leather pants. He was handsome in a rough sort of way, but he looked dangerous. Not at all like anyone she would know. He might be royalty, but he lacked the education and privilege of the French aristocrats. He was like a commoner. She hated that she was caught, hoping her father got away, but she wasn’t sure, they had split up when the soldiers were near. He would be back to rescue them, she knew it in her heart.

“Take what you want, then leave us in peace.” Lady Colette was defiant, in spite of the prince’s overpowering presence. He looked like one of the Norman’s best warriors, powerful strength and build, but he was uncouth.

“That is what I intend to do and that is why you are here.” He went over to her, and his hands went to her shoulders. His fingers dug into them until he saw her lips cringe in pain as he pushed down. “Kneel before your prince.”

“Never,” but she couldn’t stop him, finding her body pushed to her knees, her shoulders felt like iron talons had dug into them. Her knees were on the dirty marble floor, the prince looked down at her, staring down her cleavage. She put her hand up and tried to cover her half-naked breasts, but he slapped it away.

“Just as I thought, you spit out revulsion, but here you are, kneeling submissively at my feet.”

“My husband will find you and kill you like the dog you are,” she snarled.

“Yes, Baron Louis of Alencon, your husband. Such a mighty warrior, I hear.” He motioned for Zane, and he threw him the burlap package, some of the red blood had already seeped through the burlap. He grabbed the head by the hair and held it up high; the blood-stained burlap fell to the floor in front of Lady Colette to reveal it to all.

She gasped when she saw him, her husband’s head dangled like a trophy from the foul prince’s hand. Louis had such a pained look permanently etched on his face, his eyes blank and opened wide, his lips curled in pain. The blood-drenched rag was piled in front of her. “You animal,” she spat out, but she was rewarded with a blow to her face that sent her sprawling backward, her cheek stung as she kneeled back up.

Tears fell from Renee’s eyes when she saw what remained of her father. Will I end up the same way? Will Mother be killed also? She held her tongue and didn’t say a word, fearing for her life.

“Now that no one is coming for your rescue, you can try to rescue yourself, Lady Colette. I hear that French women are very experienced at pleasuring a man while they are on their knees. Why don’t you show me why I should spare your life?” Prince Rulf reached down to his trousers and opened the buttons; sure that she knew what he meant now.

“I will never do such a thing; what do you take me for?”

“A French whore.” Prince Rulf motioned for his guards. “Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.” He looked at two of the ladies in waiting. “Strip your lady, or I’ll have my men flog you within an inch of your life then fuck you on the cold, hard floor in front of everyone!”

The two ladies in waiting immediately began to take off the garments of their lady, fearing the prince more than their mistress. The guards pulled Lady Colette to her feet so that it would be easier.

She was defiant even as they began to take off her dress, not wanting to be responsible for their deaths, knowing it would be futile; he would kill all of the ladies in waiting until one of them did the dastardly deed. The hall was filled with men, all of them eyed her as the dress was pulled from her body, sure that they were all aroused at seeing such a fine lady stripped for the prince’s pleasure. It would be humiliating to submit to such a degrading display, but she began to worry about her chaste daughter, Renee. Could this man be such a degenerate to take the hymen of a young girl in front of everyone?

Prince Rulf watched as the dress slipped to the floor. The ladies seem hesitant to proceed. “Continue or else you will suffer,” he ordered them, and they began to loosen the undergarments. “Show me her breasts first.”

Lady Colette could barely keep her hands at her sides as her undergarments were peeled from her body. She felt the cool air in the hall blow on her naked breasts, shamed to look down and see how her nipples swelled in the cool air as though she grew aroused at this degrading act. The undergarments were pushed to her waist and her pendulous breasts hung down, nature taking its course, her age defying her attitude. Her breasts were no longer firm and pointed like Renee’s.

“Nice and big, I suspect the baron liked nestling his head between them and licking your nipples until they turned hard. Take off the rest; I want to see all of her.”

She had to take off her slippers as they peeled her undergarments down her legs. Shamed, Lady Colette pushed one hand over her mound to hide her sex from the peering eyes, raising each leg up so the undergarments could be pulled off. She couldn’t move her hand or risk uncovering her sex when his large hands shot out and gripped her swelling mounds of breast flesh harshly, not as a lover, for there was no softness in his calloused hands, only eagerness. She suffered his molesting hands with barely a whimper, not even when his fingers plucked at her nipples with harshness. He finally moved his hands away, her heaving; white bosom was covered with red marks, testament to the mauling of his hands.

“Remove your hand from your cunny.” He slapped her head, and it rocked her head from one side to the other. It worked, her hand slowly moved away until her dark brown thatch of hair was revealed. Her fists were at her sides, her fingers white from clenching so tight. “Spread your white thighs so I can see more.”

Haven’t I suffered enough shame and humiliation? He was never satisfied, her feet scraped along the floor as she opened her legs wide. Her nose was running, her eyes watered, her face stung from the two blows. She flinched from the first touch of his fingers as they pushed through her thatch of hair, more insistent when he found the lips of her sex.

“Don’t move,” he warned her as his finger slipped between the tight fold of her sex. She was dry, but he cared little for her comfort. His finger went lower until he found the pulsating opening to her womanhood. He began to press with his finger and was rewarded with a startled gasp when his finger entered her. He drove it deeper, fighting the dry passage and the tight muscles that tried to keep him out. She was impaled on his finger, and she could do nothing but rock on it as it plunged in and out, though she felt no desire in what he did, only the shame that Renee had to watch this depraved prince commit these unspeakable acts on her body. Renee had seen her mother naked before but never like this. A man was fondling her; sure that he had a finger inside her. Renee wondered what that would feel like. In spite of it being a stranger and forcing her, is Mother getting any pleasure from it? The distinct possibility that he would take her virginity in front of everyone became real. Can I control myself and not receive any pleasure from it? She was afraid that she would shame herself in front of her mother as she screamed out in pleasure.

“Now, Lady Colette, on your knees again and show me how French women use their mouths to pleasure a man.” He pushed down on her shoulders until her naked body kneeled at his feet. He threw off his shirt and then worked to take off his trousers.


ON SALE NOW

BANNED ON AMAZON AS "THE KING'S DUNGEON" BUT YOU CAN BUY ON AMAZON.COM AS "THE KING'S CHATTEL" IN KINDLE VERSION ON SALE HERE