A. J. Hamilton
Forced To Breed With The Dungeon Beasts
‘ This is going to be the best vacation EVER!’ Amy Trent squealed as she drove the rental car along the tree- lined road that led to the English village of Slaybury. She and her best friend Sally Wyndham had been driving since they had landed at the airport in London four hours ago. Their homes in central New York seemed like a distant memory now they were surrounded by English hills and trees.
‘It seems like a long way to come to see a tiny village,’ Sally said from the passenger seat. She had a large map unfolded on her knees and she studied it carefully, tracing every twist and turn in the road. ‘The village is hardly even on the map…just its name and a tiny dot of buildings.’
‘Hey,’ Amy said mocking seriousness, ‘that tiny dot is where my dad’s ancestors come from. I have great grandparents buried in the cemetery. So please be more respectful of my roots.’
Sally rolled her eyes. ‘Just so long as there are hot guys there. We could have spent this vacation on a beach sunning our bods and having guys hit on us. Instead, we’re going to be in a village looking at the ancient roots of your family tree.’
‘You’re forgetting something, Sally…the freaking castle!’
Looking up from the map, Sally seemed blase about the whole castle thing. ‘Yeah, a castle. Big whoop.’
Amy shook her head at her friend. Her long blond locks tumbled over her blue eyes and she brushed them away. ‘You need to get some culture in you, girl!’
‘I need to get something in me all right,’ Sally replied, ‘but it ain’t culture.’
‘Sally!’ Amy sounded disgusted.
‘Well you may be into castles and history and all that shit but I’d rather have a muscular Englishman bend me over and take me hard from behind.’
‘Sally!’
‘I wonder if Englishmen have big cocks.’
Amy locked her eyes on the road ahead and remained quiet.
‘Oh come on, I’m just kidding you. You really need to lose that nerd exterior, Amy. Remember how you got teased in High School?’
‘High School is over. I don’t need to remember how I got bullied by a bunch of cruel girls. We’re women now and we should act more grown up.’
‘You’ve always acted the same…like you’re afraid of boys and the whole sex thing.’
Amy shrugged. ‘I’m just saving myself for when I meet the right man.’
‘You’ll never meet him if you avoid the male population at all costs.’
‘I do not avoid the male population. I see Denny regularly.’
‘Yeah, to play video games. And you only see him online. Seriously, Amy, you need to loosen up some.’ She consulted the map. ‘Take a left turn up ahead.’
A tiny wooden sign with the word “Slaybury” painted on it in black paint was the only indication of the nearby village. Amy took the turn and they found themselves on a narrow road bordered with high hedgerows and thick stands of trees.
‘Your dad’s family come from a village in the middle of nowhere,’ Sally announced. She laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes. She was pretty, with dark hair that reached her shoulders in light curls and dark brown eyes that seemed able to enchant guys. Amy wished she had Sally’s confidence with the opposite sex. She just felt so awkward around boys. So she hid her figure in loose-fitting clothing and wore thick-rimmed glasses to hide her face as best she could. She didn’t want her life to be like this, timid and quiet, but she couldn’t be any other way. She knew that nothing could change her.
Little did Amy know that in a few hours, she would be on her knees naked in a dungeon begging to be fucked by a huge ugly beast while she stroked a second beast’s thick cock with her small fingers and waited obediently for it to cum over her tits.
Sighing, she drove into the village of Slaybury and parked in a small gravelled area near a handful of shops.
‘We’re here,’ she said to Sally.
Her friend woke up and looked around. ‘This is it? A pub and a few houses? Where are we going to stay? I think we should go back to London, find a nice hotel, check out the night life…’
‘They have rooms at the pub,’ Amy said. ‘It’ll be quaint.’
‘Quaint my ass,’ Sally complained, getting out of the car. The day was sunny and warm but there were no people about. ‘It’s quiet,’ Sally said. ‘Too quiet.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Amy said, climbing out of the car. She looked around and took a deep breath of fresh air. ‘Let’s go check out the pub and get directions to the castle.’
Sally sighed. ‘Fine.
The pub was called The Broken Cross and it was noisy inside with villagers drinking and talking but as soon as the girls stepped inside, the place became deathly silent. Amy felt like every pair of eyes in the place were burning into her. She blushed and looked at the floor. A big bald barman in his fifties came over, wiping glasses with a dirty white cloth and looking at the two American girls.
‘Can I help you ladies?’
Amy remained quiet so Sally spoke up. ‘We’re looking for the castle.’
‘Oh, is that right?’ He looked beyond them to the drinkers sitting at scarred wooden tables around a stone fireplace. ‘And why do you want to go to Slaybury castle?’
‘Good question,’ Sally said.
‘I…my dad’s family are from the village,’ Amy said quietly, ‘and he used to tell me about the castle when I was a little girl.’
The bartender raised an eyebrow. ‘From around these parts, eh? What’s your name?’
‘Amy…Amy Trent.’
‘Trent is it? Well we have a few Trents buried in the churchyard but the last of the family left for America in the sixties.’
Amy nodded. ‘That would be my grandparents and my dad.’
He eyed her closely. ‘So why have you come back?’
Amy cleared her throat nervously. ‘Just to see the castle.’
He leaned over the bar toward them and grinned but there was no mirth in his expression. ‘Well you two take my advice. Go and have a look at the castle while it’s still daylight but after that, go back to London or whichever city you came from and don’t come back to Slaybury again.’
‘We wanted to stay here overnight,’ Sally said. Amy realized that her friend hadn’t wanted to stay a few minutes ago but now she saw it as a challenge and Sally couldn’t resist a challenge.
A murmur went up from the patrons at the tables.
‘No, no, that won’t do,’ the barman said, shaking his head. ‘We can’t have young girls like you two in the village overnight. Anything could bloody happen!’
‘We’re not girls, we’re twenty three,’ Sally said through gritted teeth. If there was anything Sally hated, it was being talked down to. And she wasn’t about to take it from this English pub owner.
‘Come on,’ Amy said, ‘let’s go.’
‘No. You wanted to see the castle and we will see the castle.’ She stared resolutely at the barman. ‘Are you going to tell us where it is or do we have to go looking for ourselves?’
One of the drinkers, an old man with a white beard, spoke up. ‘Let them go, Dave. Maybe if them two go to Slaybury Castle, it’ll stop the…happenings…for a while.’
The barman looked at the old man. ‘But they’re just two young women, Frank. What about the…’
‘Let them go,’ the old man repeated.
The barman looked genuinely concerned. He looked at the girls and whispered, ‘Be sure to get back to the village by sundown.’
