Royal Rape
Sometimes, I wonder if Disney ever contemplated writing behind-the-scenes tales for every one of their movies that featured animals. Do you think so? So far, I've written yiffs for "Balto" and "Spirit, Stallion of the Cimmaron," but I hope to begin another series; a third one, one that will be almost like my Redwall series, but featuring Disney animal characters. This is the first. . .
Royal Rape
All characters © Disney
Prince John aligned his crown correctly upon his head for the third time that day. "Ah, drat this crown! Hiss, where were we?" A sinuous body moved slightly to his left, and a sibilant voice rasped, "We were jusst about to count your money, Sssire." Prince John rolled his eyes and jumped up out of his throne. "Ohh," he fumed, narrowing his eyes. "I'm just so tired of that! Let's do something else, Hiss." His serpentine attendant slithered down around his footpaws. "Yesss, Sssire, but what? The taxes are flooding in, the peasants are working hard, your soldiers are working hard to catch Robin Hood. . ."
Wham!
A clawed paw landed squarely on his head. "ROBIN HOOD!? Oh, when I get my paws on him, I'll gut him! That fox has eluded me for the last time!" Sir Hiss, his small cap flattened rather unelegantly upon his wedge-shaped head, dared to croak out, "Ssire, might I remind you that your plotsss are not alwaysss ssso. . . well, ssso good." Prince John whirled on the snake. "Oh? And I suppose you have a better plan, Hiss?" Removing his rumpled visor from atop his head, Sir Hiss looked away, shaking it out into its original shape. "W-well, I never sssaid THAT, Sssire. . . but I jusst might." Prince John settled back into his throne and glared at the serpent, drumming his black talons upon the golden arm of the royal seat, his long leonine tail flicking lazily about his heels. "Well, Hiss? Enthrall me." The snake slithered up the back of his Majesty's throne and coiled himself around the top, arranging his lengthy body into a comfortable position.
"Do you know of the maid Marion, Sssire?" Prince John stroked his chin. "Hmmm. . . my brother's niece? Yes, yes, I know her well, but what does she have to do with all this?" Sir Hiss smiled, leaning closer, the predatory gleam in his eye growing. "Well, did you know that Robin Hood iss in love with her, Sssire?" Prince John cast a glance at his attendant. "No, no. . . what are you saying, Hiss?" The serpent licked his scaly lips with a forked tongue and grinned. "What I am trying to sssay, your Majessty, iss that, if Robin Hood thinks his fair damssel iss in dissstresss, then he will come to her resscue." Prince John grinned. "I see now, Hiss! What an extrordinary plan! Capture the maiden, and the outlaw with follow!" The evil lion leapt up from his throne and clapped his paws. "Oh! Hiss, old boy, you've done it again!"
To a guard standing nearby, the prince ordered, "Bring the maid Marion to me at once!"
**
Maid Marion wept silently to herself, huddled in a cold corner of the stone cell she had been thrown into the previous day. What had she done to provoke Prince John? All she had been doing was enjoying one of her few daily pleasures: playing badminton with her plump, matronly, feathered lady-in-waiting, Clucky. She dimly remembered six lupine guards bursting out onto the game field, seizing her, and dragging her off down the path; and then no more. Tears still running slowly down her face, Marion reached up a paw to touch the back of her head. The gentle contact sent waves of pain spiraling through her brain, and she choked back a fresh deluge of tearful sobs. When she pulled her paw back to look at it, the vixen noted that her blunt claws were wet with blood.
A cold wind blew in through the barred window, carrying the scents of coming rain and flowery perfume to her. Rising stiffly, the action dizzying her to the point where she had to reach out a paw toward the wall to steady herself, Marion stumbled toward the window. "Oh!"
Her gasp was unwitting; she had to be at least fifty feet up from the drawbridge. She wondered if she was in the tower, where the heretics were kept before their executions. Marion tried not to think about that; it brought unwelcome thoughts of poor beasts dying in this same room. The vixen stepped back from the window and fell heavily onto her side. Stars of dazzling colors exploded before her eyes in a veritable firework; light-headedness made Marion retch. Clutching at the floor, the vixen gagged and choked until she had brought up the remainder of her last meal. Marion broke into sobs once more and crumpled into a fetal ball on the cold floorstones. "Oh, Robin," she cried. "Where are you?"
**
Prince John paced the floor of his throne room agitatedly. "You say she is captured, Captain?" The captain-of-the-guard, a huge grey wolf, nodded. "Aye, Sire, the little fox is all locked away and guarded heavily." Prince John stroked his chin, a habit he possessed when thinking hard about one thing or another. "Good. You may go, Captain." The large wolf nodded, bowed, and left the room.
Plopping down in his large royal chair, the wicked lion adjusted his crown and sat back. "Hiss, I think---I know---where is ROBIN HOOD!?" Rolling his eyes subtly, the snake slunk across the floor to a pile of cushions at his Majesty's side. Organizing his heavy coils meticulously, Hiss then pulled the cap from his head and began to smooth the small feather that was stuck in its band to the perfect sheen. Prince John watched his attendant, his anger growing by the minute. Finally, when he could take no more of Sir Hiss's painstaking beauty regimen, the leonine thundered, "WELL!?"
Hiss jumped, then caught himself. "Well, your Majesssty, Robin Hood hass to be notified of hisss maiden'ss capture before he takess action toward her resscue!" Slithering closer, Sir Hiss smiled and continued: "I suggesst that you have a sssoldier sshoot an arrow with a messsage bound to it into Sssherwood Foresst. Robin Hood will take action within twenty-four hourss, I can asssure you, Sssire." Prince John grinned. Buffeting his serpentine attendant playfully, he giggled with laughter. "Oh! This will be so fun, Hiss! Hahahahaha! Don't you think so? Heehee!" A pile of gold coins lifted in the corner of the room and Sir Hiss's head appeared, his cap again flattened. "Yesss, Sssire. Very fun, indeed."
**
The fox jumped as an arrow blazed through the forest, pinning his hat to the tree where he had been sitting a moment ago. "Whoa!" Robin Hood yanked the arrow from the tree as one of his Merry Men, Little John, a ponderous, ironically named bear, crowded close. His voice shaking with anger, Robin read aloud the message tied to the arrow's slender shaft: "I have Maid Marion. Surrender and I will let her go. Defy me further and she dies at dawn. Signed, Prince John, King of Nottingham and all other provinces."
Robin crumpled the paper and broke the arrow with a snarling shout of rage. "No! Not Marion!" Shredding the message angrily, the handsome male fox grabbed his feathered cap, jammed in onto his head, seized his quiver of arrows and his bow, and took off at a sprint through Sherwood Forest. Little John ran after him. "Hey, Rob, wait up! Where d'ya think yer goin'?" Robin skidded to a halt and whirled to face the bear. "To get Marion; what do you think!?" His companion grabbed his arm. "Now, Rob, let's think this out rationally---"
The fox twisted away from his friend. "No, John! Marion is locked in that castle, with no telling what that prince will do to her! I'm going to save her, no matter what it takes!" Again, he turned to run, and again, Little John seized him. "Listen, Rob! This is all a setup! This is exactly what P. J. wants you ta do!" When Robin Hood scoffed and tried to leap beyond his bearfriend, Little John slammed him against a tree and held him there with a massive clawed paw. "Now, listen to me, Rob! I won't lose you! Nottingham needs you, and if you're gonna throw your life away for some. . . some dumb vixen, then you shouldn't have ever become the peasants' hero!" He gazed into his comrade's eyes. "They need you, Rob! I need you! Please, don't do this!"
The fox pushed the bear back. "I'm sorry, John, but I have to." Without another word, he was gone, evaporated like steam amongst the trees of the forest he knew so well. Little John sighed, slumping to the ground with his back against the tree. "Oh, Rob," he whispered, two great tears running down his face. "What am I gonna do without you?"
**
Marion gasped in shock and fear as a huge paw reached for her. The captain-of-the-guard chuckled merrily. "Oh, don't be such a wet blanket now, missie. C'mon over here, and I'll show you a good time." The vixen slapped his paw away. "No! Please, just leave me alone!" The wolf looked shocked for a milisecond, then sniggered evilly. "You brought this on yourself, vixen! Now, you're going to have to deal with it!" Groping blindly at her clothing, the big lupine pressed himself against her, pinning her to the wall behind her. Marion pummeled desperately at his broad shoulders with her small fists, shrieking all the while. "No! No! Let me go! Robin! Help!" The wolf laughed and covered her mouth with his burly fingers. "Oh, that outlaw isn't going to help you! Now, just stay still and maybe you'll enjoy this as much as I will!" The vixen opened her mouth to scream yet again, perhaps to bite into the captain's fingers, but a long tongue was suddenly shoved between her lips and the wolf's mouth was pressing against her own.
Marion's arms were flailing, pulling at his ears, yanking on his fur, slapping him, punching him, trying to push him off of her, but to no avail. The lupine only chuckled and kissed her harder, his paws roaming up and down her sides, pulling at the fabric of her dress, tearing it off of her body, grasping her breasts and cupping her downy mound. The vixen twisted and managed to break away from the wolf, but landed on the floor as he grabbed her ankles. His hard body was pressed against hers once more; the cold floorstones chilled her front. Marion gasped as the head of a huge, slick organ raked through the fur on her rump, trying to find her virginal opening. The vixen squeezed her eyes shut and prepared for the pain that would follow the captain's thievery of her maidenhead. . .
But it never happened.
A crisp voice suddenly sounded behind them both. "His Majesty, the regal Prince John, would like me to escort you to his throne room, Maid Marion." From under the wolf's body, Marion shrieked an answer. "Yes! Get off of me, you bastard!" She sobbed with relief, her body shaking, as she was yanked to her feet by her would-be rapist. Glaring pure hatred at him, Marion gathered her courage and a glob of saliva and spat into his face. "God help you, you filthy sinner!" She, after redressing herself, was led down the steps from the tower by Prince John's bishop, a sour-faced old weasel. "I do hope he hasn't harmed you in any way, milady," commented the bishop dryly. Sighing with relief, Marion answered, "No; thank God, he didn't!"
Prince John, caught reclining in his throne when Marion was escorted inside his main room, clumsily attempted to right himself and ended up flat on his face in front of the vixen, Sir Hiss wrapped around his ankles. "Haarumph!" Marion giggled. "Oh, Uncle John, you look so funny!" Leaping up, the lion kicked the snake away savagely and pasted a fake smile upon his leonine face. "Ahem! Now, my good niece, you may be wondering why I've ordered you brought here, to the palace." A puzzled look replaced the amused one upon Marion's face. "Yes, I am. Why, Uncle?"
Slumping back down in his throne, Prince John reached for a goblet of wine and swirled it absently. "I've had you brought her, my dear, because Robin Hood is on the loose." Marion's eyes grew wide. "R-Robin Hood!? Of Sherwood Forest!?" Her uncle smiled slyly. "The one and the same, darling." Marion drew a breath. "Oh, I must sit down." Sinking to the steps that led up to her uncle's throne, the vixen caught her breath. Sir Hiss and Prince John exchanged a sly glance with each other, and then the lion spoke again. "You seem to feel something for this notorious outlaw, child. Care to tell me about it?" Marion, shaken out of her awestruck trance by her uncle's words, looked at him. "W-well, erm, we. . . we just hit it off from the beginning, I guess! Haha!" Prince John leaned forward. "'Hit it off?' Do you hear her, Hiss? She says she was friends with this outlaw since the beginning!" He laughed. "Preposterous! The very idea! A maid of honor and an criminal in love! How amusing! Ahahahaha! Hahahaha!"
Marion glared at her uncle as his grovelling serpentine assistant joined in the laugter. "How dare you laugh at Robin! I-I would think my real uncle, King Richard, would understand our love---" She was knocked to the floor as Prince John backhanded her brutally. "Never mention that name before me again, vixen! I am king here, not my crusading brother! I-am-king!" Marion put a paw to her face where her uncle had struck her; it throbbed with pain. Sir Hiss glided deftly across the floor toward her and wrapped himself around her ankle. "I would ssuggesst that you show more ressspect to your king, fox!" Marion grabbed Hiss by the throat and shook him. "Don't you dare tell me what to do, snake!" Tossing him aside, Marion got to her feet and confronted her uncle, pointing a finger at him. "I do love him, your Majesty! I love Robin! And you are no king! You are a fraud! Long live King Richard!"
With a roar, Prince John sprang off his throne and upon his niece. "Ungrateful little whore!" Using his claws, he scored heavy blows across her face and neck, blackened her eyes and split her lip against her teeth, shredded her clothing into tatters, and, to finish his barbaric abuse of her, hurled her into a corner and stood over her, his fangs bared, his crown askew, and his claws dripping with her blood. "I should kill you now," he snarled, "but I have other plans for you."
Marion licked blood from her lips, glaring up at Prince John out of her swollen face. "What could you possibly do to me to make me submit to you, you bastard?" The lion smiled wickedly. "Certain things. Many certain things, my dear." Grabbing the vixen and yanking her to her feet, the leonine pulled her against him and grinned down into her face. "Darling, darling! What made you think that you could defy me? Now, you will suffer." Marion stiffened as his paw roamed through the bushy fur of her tail. He couldn't rape her. . . he wouldn't dare! However, the twisted, lecherous smile on her uncle's face as he fondled her told her otherwise. Gathering her courage once more, Marion sprang into action. . .
Prince John crashed face down into the floor as his niece's body smashed into him. He felt a sharp pain on his neck as her teeth tore at his flesh. Her hands, small but powerful, closed around his throat. The lion tried to roll and flip her over, but not only was she suprisingly strong and agile, she clung to him with a frenzied and desperate clutch. The pressure of her grip around his throat increased with deadly intent as he struggled with her and began to choke. "H-help," Prince John croaked weakly, struggling to break loose. Sweat dripped from her brow onto the back of his neck as she throttled him, gasping, "Bastard! Royal fraud!"
The lion felt one hand release him and he twisted sharply to get free, catching a glimpse of her hand, which now held a tiny dagger with a jeweled hilt. Where had she gotten it? he wondered frantically, but now was not the time to ponder this. Before Marion could drive her weapon down, her uncle butted her brutally in the abdomen with his head, hearing the breath burst from her body in a low, moaning gasp. The vixen was still twined around him, her legs scraping the floor as she sought to regain her breath and find the necessary balance to hold him down. Once more, the dagger raised itself in an attempt to strike. Prince Jon doubled up his knee and kicked out at her upraised arm, hearing her sharp cry of pain as the dagger was jarred from her numbed fingers. For a second she freed her grasp, giving her uncle the chance to rip at her with bare paws, the cloth from her loose-flowing robe tearing in his talons. He clawed harder, his paws feeling the warm, smooth flesh as he slashed her undertunic straight down across her belly. As Marion tried to writhe away, Prince John sank his teeth into the full and yielding flesh of her thigh.
She screamed once and then rolled over and away from him, moaning. Prince John leapt to his feet, grabbed the dagger, and stood over it, fully prepared to slash her open. Marion lay still, glaring up at him, panting, daring him with her eyes to kill her. The lion's fist clenched around the knife's hilt; sweat dripped from his forehead onto her face---and then he remembered something his father had told him would always humilate an enemy.
Dropping the dagger, the leonine prince smiled. Marion grinned grimly back up at him. "Always the coward," she jibed. "Just like your Sheriff and your army." The smile froze upon her uncle's lips, but he forced himself to keep it there. Marion went on. "You couldn't even kill me, you fake! You're a coward, a dog, a fraud! A jellyfish has more spine than you, 'Uncle' John! Cowardly bastard!" The lion gave a roar, the true wild beast within him suddenly volatile with rage. "WOULD-YOU-SHUT-UP-!?"
Marion froze with fear. The foolish, vain look in her uncle's eyes was gone, as was his crown and his kingly bearing. His fur bristled with rage, his fangs were bared, and his claws were unsheathed. His once-rich clothing hung in tatters on his skinny body, which seemed to abruptly bulge with sinew. The vixen's eyes settled on Prince John's crotch; she gave a gasp. A huge bulge had formed there, underneath the frayed rags he wore. Marion stared at him. "I'm sorry--" Prince John roared again. "Too late for that!" he bellowed savagely. "You brought this on yourself; now take it like the vulpine bitch you are!" With that, he shoved her face-down against the cold floorstones of his throne room and ripped her ragged skirts aside.
Marion gasped, stiffening as his huge, rough paw caressed her redfurred rumpcheek. She heard a tearing sound and realized that her uncle had stripped himself to the fur and was kneeling behind her. For the second time that day, a slick rod pushed against her virginal tunnel, making her quiver. She felt the lion's hot breath on her cheek, felt his jaws close around the back of her neck, and flinched as he tore the rest of her clothing from her slender body. "I sometimes wonder if my brother ever saw you as I do now, vixen," the possessed lion snarled lustfully, yanking Marion back onto his cock. She shrieked with pain as he took her maidenhead quickly, driving himself to the hilt inside of her hotness. "Gods, you're tight, you little foxbitch!" Prince John pulled his hips back a ways, then rammed his pelvis against his niece's firm rump, his barbs probing her soft confines eagerly and painfully.
From a corner, Sir Hiss watched this all through wide eyes. "Oh dear," he hiss-whispered to himself. "King Richard will never forgive his brother for incest!" Nonetheles, the snake advisor found himself aroused by the lewd scene. From a tiny vent below his navel slid a long, thin pink shaft, slick with precum. Hiss's rod stood proudly erect, almost begging to be buried within a she-serpent's warm nether-grasp. Silently, Sir Hiss looped a coil around his tool and began to pleasure himself by drawing the silkily scaled ring up and down the length of his pole. "Absssolutely pleasssurable," he hissed, his eyes half-shut and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
Marion cried out as her uncle's barbs raked her in places that had never been touched before. As much as she hated to admit it, the roughness of her first encounter was quite arousing. Biting back a moan, the vixen attempted not to meet each of Prince John's thrust into her, but it was hard. . . very hard. The she-fox gasped as he twisted under her to push his cold nosepad against her right nipple, which stiffened and peaked hotly through her fur. The lion, flipping Marion over onto her back, licked her breasts slowly, coating the fur down with his hot saliva, all the while pumping her hard and fast. The vixen cried out as her twat convulsed wetly around his huge, hot, pounding cock; her fingers bit into her uncle's broad shoulders as she came with an incoherent moan. Prince John smiled and nipped the side of her neck sharply, sending pain spiking pleasurably through her heaving body. He made no effort to slow his pace, growling softly as his niece wrapped her legs around his back and began to meet his thrusts, crying out all the while.
Marion arched her back as the lion took her upon the floorstones of his grand throne room, gasping his name, clutching pawfuls of his mane, her head lolling back, her lips unable to form words to describe her intense pleasure. She shrieked as she climaxed again, yanking him into her as he increased his tempo.
**
Robin Hood crept silently toward the tower window, slinking like a wraith across the stones. A wolven guard sniffed the air, snorted, and returned to his watch. The green-clad outlaw sighed with relief and swung into the window. "Marion?"
His eyes scanned the dark room for any sign of the vixen he loved, but she was not there. "Damn!" he hissed under his breath. "Where could she be?" The fox crouched in the shadows, thinking hard for a few moments before he hit upon it. The throne room! That had to be where Prince John was keeping her!
Looping a rope coil around his body, Robin Hood tied the other end to an iron ring set in the wall of the tower room and then lowered himself to the balconies, heading for the wicked prince's main room.
**
Marion writhed as Prince John licked at her breasts, still pumping her firmly. The leonine possessed immense self-control and virility; it had been hours since he had first raped her. The vixen panted and cried out, wanting her uncle to flood her with his potent seed so badly. Her bushy tailtuft brushed across his testes and scrotum, stimulating him into a lustful snarl and a nipping bite to her throat. Gone was the snivelling little wretch that had besiged Nottingham; this was the real lion, everything King Richard was and more.
Suddenly, Prince John slid himself from her. The she-fox gasped, giving a high-pitched whine of dismay, but it turned into a moan of delight as she felt his raspy feline tongue scraping across her soaked nether-lips. Arching her back, Marion allowed her uncle better access to her wet folds, and he took full advantage of this, stroking the silky white fur of her inner thighs, caressing her flexing rump, fingering her tailhole gently.
The lion tongued her swelling clit; then took it into his mouth and bit lightly on it. Unused to such heavy arousal, Marion screamed with pleasure, flooding Prince John's muzzle and dousing his face with her tangy, sticky juices. Her fingers knotted into his mane as he rose up and slipped into her once more, banging away at her wet places with his skilled member. The vixen cried out and gripped him close.
**
Robin swung onto the ledge of the throne room, only to fall back and almost descend to his death at what he saw in front of him. Prince John was atop Marion, thrusting into her--- the room reeked of masculine and feminine musks intermingled--- and the vixen, the one fem he had ever loved, was crying the lion's name and responding to his body with her own.
Robin was shocked.
His lips could not form her name, would not. Slowly, slowly, his eyes filled with tears and he turned away, unable to watch anymore. However, he knew that the picture of the prince taking his beloved Marion upon the floor of his royal throne room would stay with him forever. Robin silently descended the rope and disappeared into the night.
Hiss came with a low rasp of pleasure.
**
Prince John's body finally tightened with orgasm, and Marion shrieked as she was finally flooded with his hot seed. The lion collapsed onto his niece, and they lay like that for some time, their fur wet with sweat and their bodies mingled. A knock sounded at the door, and a lupine soldier strode in. Averting his eyes, he rumbled, "We found this in the gardens, your Majesty," and held out his paw.
In his fingers, the wolf clasped a jaunty green cap with a small feather stuck in the band. Marion's eyes widened, and she struggled out from under her uncle to grab it. Nodding at them both, the guard left the room, closing the door behind himself.
The vixen sank to the floor on her knees, clutching the cap between her breasts. Robin. He had been here.
Her whole being was suddenly flooded with the realization of her incestuous tryst upon the floor not thirty seconds past. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, and Marion wept.
What had she done?
The End