In the hands of his whip. He slowly, as if caressing, holds the handle of the whip on her narrow white back, round buttocks in the shape of a heart, strained legs. She trembles all over, leaning back - to meet his cruel caress.

“You do not know what you crave, my joy,” he whispers in her ear, caressing her sensitive neck with a hot tongue, “the pain will be hellish, you will beg me to stop, but it will be too late — I will not stop torture.” Give up before it is too late, - he persuades.

She silently shakes her head. She needs this pain. To forget, to punish, to forgive ...

The whip drops unexpectedly, with a loud, whistling sound. The pain spreads through the body like a hurricane, penetrating into every cell. A scream rips from the throat and chokes there, intercepted by a new flash of pain. The blow follows the blow, stripping its white back. The shouts, at first loud, soon become hoarse and prolonged. The body, devoid of reason, twists in chains, instinctively trying to avoid new burning strike. But the girl does not give up - the sweat runs down her white forehead, mixed with tears, but not a word of prayer falls from her bitten lips.

“Scream, my queen, scream,” the punches are interspersed with cruel words, “your little girlfriend will also scream when they make her an obedient whore.” It will scream in pain when the visiting guests of your father will stretch its pretty, narrow holes. Soon she will no longer be so charming - the light in her eyes will fade and her body will become flabby.

The terrible pictures, engendered by the words of the wizard, seemed to come alive before the eyes of the princess. He sees before her the sweet, kind face of Greta, with her fear of overflowing eyes. He sees a plump man with a sweaty, red face that looks like a big boar, who is moving toward her, forcing him. Greta breaks out, but it is only further inflamed her resistance. He is strong, presses the frail body of the slave under him, tears her clothes off, greedily squeezes her breasts, covers her dark, tearful face with wet kisses, bursts into her dick, firmly holding, puffs, fucks, turns over and inserts a member into the submissive butt already .

Greta’s screams in Eleana’s head merge with her own. Pain tears her apart. The whip is inexorable, he tears off all covers, pierces through - to the soul tormented by pain, destroying the image behind the mask: a proud, cold-blooded princess, a beautiful, noble bride, a well-bred lady who never shows her feelings, a kind, caring mistress. All this is not, but there is only a little girl who cannot cope with grief, a girl. The sobs twist it into a hard lump - pain, guilt, responsibility, rules too much to keep in itself. With each new sob, with each lightning-fast blow of the whip, with every drop of sweat and blood - they come out of it. Pleas fall from her lips with an incessant song: “Don't, stop, stop, I can't take it anymore!” But the executioner does not hear her, he is absorbed in her suffering, reveling in it to the last drop. It’s as if Eleanes’s consciousness is separated from the body, it is floating - free under brutal blows, full of mysterious heat, light and humility ...

Finally, the magician throws off the whip and passionately clings to the red-streaked, streaked with blood, the princess's back. He covers her with greedy kisses, drops to his knees between her spread legs, spreads her hips and puts her mouth to her bosom. His caresses are deprived of yesterday's deliberation, he is unrestrained and insatiable - with his hands, his tongue tortures her with lust, just as he has just tortured with a whip. Her juices are mixed with sweat and blood, flowing down his back and flowing between his buttocks on his face. Flour and arousal intertwined.An insistent tongue on her clitoris, slippery fingers in the anus — all this is too much for her, and Eleana is no longer able to resist pain or pleasure, falls into the abyss that is smoking at the foot, which opens at her feet. The fall is all lasts and lasts, the body shudders in spasms of ecstasy, the flow of energy breaks free with a hot, cleansing flame, sweeping away everything in its path. The kneeling magician absorbs the magical force that has broken out, absorbing its life-giving power.

Gradually, the fire of passion subsides, leaving lovers exhausted and full. Vixenius rises with difficulty. Eleana's body hangs lifelessly on chains — she is unconscious after the storm just experienced. The wizard gently unhooks the shackles and picks up the disfigured with his whip, the princess's body beautiful in its defenseless femininity, lifted into the hands.

Eleana slowly emerges to the surface of reality from the abyss that has swallowed her. She lies on a wide bed, covered with silky lilac sheets. The back does not hurt, and it feels like torture has only dreamed of it. Next to her is Vixenius, his face serious and thoughtful, he peers intensely at her, as if trying to read something on her face.

- Who are you? - breathes out her most disturbing question, Eleana. - What are you doing with me?

He sighs and concentrates her silky curls on his fingers, gathering his thoughts. Deciding, and looking straight into her eyes, says:

“I am a great wizard, one of the few remaining in the Long Lands.” In my veins flows ancient, mighty power. But despite this, I can also be defeated, which happened many years ago. Without the influx of new energy, my strength began to dry out, and the decrepit body, which was once only a mask, took possession of me ... - with the recollection of the humiliation suffered, his eyes light up with anger. - And then you appeared, my little queen ... And she brought with her a stream of such strength that they could turn the whole world over ... I just grabbed my chance, that's the way, birdie, he calmly agreed. From his cold words, Eleana’s heart sank - he uses her ... He’s no different from the king ...

- Why me? - gathering her courage, the princess asks.

“I don’t know,” he confesses, “I suspected from the very beginning, hoped that there was magic in you, but I couldn’t assume that there was so much.

“Why don't I feel her then?” - surprised Eleana.

“You are a woman, and that means just a source, moreover, nobody is untouched by anyone,” he grins, “didn’t there be a single mage at your father’s court who wanted to at least touch you? “Eleana shrugs in bewilderment — if they were, they would hardly be allowed to approach her.” But he approached, and not only approached, but subjugated. The king, without knowing it, gave him access to her mind, asking him to create that strange magical collection.

“So I can't use magic?” She asks with disappointment, snugly resting on his chest.

“No ... the woman’s mission is to protect, carry and give away,” he smiles, burying his nose into the fragrant hair on her nape. - Why do you need my joy?

She looked down and frowned, trying to shut herself away from him, but not before he felt her answer, he saw in her thoughts: a thin, dark girl in the night, accompanied only by a guard, galloping on an old horse to meet her unenviable fate. Greta...

Vixenius firmly hugs a small creature that trusts him. Yes, he forced her, penetrated her mind, used her for his own purposes - but he didn’t suspect that her trust would be so necessary for him.

“I will help her,” he promises quietly. Eleana shudders by his understanding glance. Believes, does not ask how. Just believes.

With gratitude, Eleanus clings closer to him, stretches, praying for a kiss. The touch of the lips rekindles the fire in the blood, excitement spreads through the body.The girl is still too inexperienced, but she willingly takes the initiative, covering her lover's face with light, tender kisses: covered eyes, thick eyebrows that almost converge on the bridge of her nose, an aquiline nose, cheeks covered with a short, slightly barbed beard, neck. Her tongue caresses his twitching Adam, shoulders, down to flat male nipples and covered with thick, dark hair chest. Fingers are confused in this exciting overgrowth, I want to touch my cheek and rub against it, which she does without hesitation. Black snakes of long hair glide behind her hands on his skin, tease, excite. Now the bowed head is approaching its risen member - hands gently slide along the trunk, roll the testicles. A shy kiss. One more, another. Soon a quick tongue joins the caress of the lips. The girl carefully licks it all, sucks, caresses. He takes it in his mouth and sucks diligently, smacking his lips with pleasure. Vixenius groans under her innocent, exploring caresses. He wants more. He may act like last night and use magic, but for some reason he is sickened by this. Instead, he pulls her up and digs in a greedy kiss on her soft lips.

“I want to show you something, little bird, don't be afraid,” he whispers.

Placing it on the pillows, he turns around and stands above her, clasping his luxurious hips, puts his powerful member to her lips. (Especially for eroticspace) He does not rush her - slowly and shallowly moving in her hot mouth. He himself bows her head to her crotch and begins to lick sweetly - sponges, clit, tightly squeezed anus ringlet, remembering her wild orgasm an hour earlier, when he penetrated her ass with his fingers. Eleana moves fervently under him and moans deeply, the cock in her mouth penetrates deeper with each new movement. Tears splash from the eyes. But she does not resist trying to relax the muscles of the throat. His testicles hit his nose, hard hair on his stomach tickle his chin. Doing two or three deep lashes, Vixenius almost completely leaves, letting her catch her breath. His tongue on her clitoris and fingers in the ass move in the same rhythm, driving both to madness. The climax comes almost at the same time: the flow of hot sperm rushes into the girl's throat with powerful pushes, the man retreats with the last movement of her hips, preventing her from suffocating, at the same time squeezing her clitoris with two fingers and plunging her into the abyss of the new orgasm.

This time the burst of energy is not so strong and both soon come to their senses. Then they lie for a long time, cuddling in their arms, restoring their lost breathing.

“You haven't changed,” Elean says suddenly, perplexed.

“This is not necessary now, my little queen,” he laughs, “I can now easily control my appearance.” Or do you miss my nasty senile appearance? He asks ironically.

“No ...” Eleana is still at a loss, thoughts that have been in turmoil all this time are beginning to acquire their former clarity, and fear also comes with them. - What will happen next? Will I forget everything again?

“Not everything,” the wizard as if pierces through her with a fiery look, “and then you will sleep, my night bird,” his gaze continues to crush on her, subjecting her will, her eyes closing, unable to hold her heavy eyelids, her voice comes from is far away. Eleana plunges into a deep sleep, not feeling that her body breaks down into moon dust, glides through the air to find herself in her wide bed in the tastelessly furnished chambers of the castle.

Vixenius watches as she becomes transparent and slowly disappears from his arms. On the pillow, where her cute head had just lay, there remains only a warm, fragrant fossa. He wants to dig into her and bring her warm, supple body back. But he angrily pulls himself away - she is just a toy, a means to achieve his goals, a tool for his long-awaited revenge. He is not a stupid boy, bewitched by his first woman to become attached to her. He knows this world too well, knows women to allow their gentle speeches and sweet bodies to control themselves! Tomorrow night he will complete the ritual.After that, having a queen obedient, obedient to his will, he himself will rule both the king and his whole kingdom! His revenge will be long!