Revenge: the Abandoned Queen

Willette's hands were tied behind her back and a blindfold covered her eyes.

　　She was roughly pushed and shoved, not knowing how far they had gone before stopping. The air was filled with a damp, pungent odor and a faint hint of blood.

　　Someone pushed her to the ground and removed the blindfold. Willette blinked her sore eyes and took in her surroundings.

　　She was in an underground interrogation room divided by floor-to-ceiling glass.

　　The hanging lamp above swayed precariously and emitted an annoying creaking sound. Behind the glass was an iron chair, and a young man dressed in military uniform was locked in it.

　　His once neatly combed black hair was now messy and covered his smooth forehead.He had a pair of thick, cold eyes that resembled the black diamond necklace on Willette's neck.

　　Willette subconsciously called out, "Lanchester..."

　　"Lanchester Leonard." Another cynical male voice called out the prisoner's full name.

　　"The First Prince of the West Sea is really unlucky. You could even get attacked and captured while patrolling the border with your fiancé."

　　Willette turned her head to see the man behind her, but before she could see his face, he grabbed her by the roots of her hair.

　　His hard military boots pressed against her lower back as if to crush her abdomen, squeezing her internal organs into a pulp.

　　Under the man's malicious pull, Willette had to raise her head, revealing her fragile swan-like neck.

　　"Look at your fiancé, how pitiful she is."

　　He chuckled and breathed into Willette's ear, his hot and humid breath tickling her eardrum, frivolous and intimate.

　　"She's the famous flower of the West Sea, praised by all the wandering poets for her beauty. All the dirty and vulgar men want to taste her flavor."

　　"Lanchester, what do you think if I throw her into the military camp? There are only Tuso people outside of this interrogation room. They haven't touched a woman in three months, and they're so hungry that they can make love to their scabbards."

　　Lanchester, sitting on the iron chair, just raised his eyes at the remark.

　　The First Prince of the West Sea was a cold and arrogant man. Even as a prisoner, he still stood straight with an expressionless face.

　　Only the greenish-blue bruise on his mouth hinted at the violence he had suffered earlier.

　　"What do you want?" he asked.

　　The man behind Willette smiled and forcefully lifted her chin, inserting a finger between her lips and teeth to stir.

　　The movement was particularly rough, almost tearing the corners of Willette's mouth.

　　She tried to dodge, but the man became more and more aggressive, directly grabbing her restless tongue and imitating thrusting.

　　"Umm... let me go..."

　　Willette said incoherently, her white jade-like cheeks turning a shameful shade of red. Saliva uncontrollably spilled out, flowing down her chin onto her undulating chest.

　　"I want the territory of Wind Frost Mountain Range and Ontario Castle," the man who was insulting her said casually, "it's not much, Your Highness, give them to me, and I will naturally let you return to your country safely."

　　Willette's entire body tensed up.

　　She knew very well that these areas were critical border checkpoints, and if given up, the neighboring country Seragon could easily invade and consume a large amount of land and people in West Sea.

　　But if Lanchester refused to agree, she would fall into the most miserable situation. She would be humiliated, abused, and left with nothing...

　　Then she heard Lanchester's calm and indifferent words.

　　"It's impossible. Marco Streller, you won't get anything from me."

　　Willette's breathing stopped.

　　She felt the temperature of her hands and feet constantly dropping, and her abdomen, which was under heavy pressure, twitching with pain.

　　There was a burst of mocking laughter in the interrogation room. The man named Marco removed his fingers and no longer played with Willette's tongue. Instead, he tore open her shirt with force.

　　The cloth covering her chest was so thin that it could hardly withstand a blow.

　　After being torn apart, the delicate and soft flesh of her breasts was exposed to the cold air, the tender red nipples trembling, looking so pitiful.

　　Willette let out a low cry and wanted to cover her exposed chest.

　　But her hands were still tied behind her waist.

　　"Don't... don't do this..."

　　Her voice trembled uncontrollably. There were only two people in the interrogation room, her fiancé Lanchester, who was locked in a chair, and Marco who was inflicting the abuse.

　　She couldn't see Marco's appearance, but she could feel him cutting her skirt into shreds with a blade. And her fiancé sat behind the glass window, just looking at her with calm and cold eyes.

　　"Lanchester, Lanchester!" Willette was trembling all over, "Save..."

　　She only managed to utter one syllable and could no longer say a complete sentence.

　　Marco behind her spread her legs, making her kneel on all fours. The sharp and cold blade of the knife drilled into the seam of her pants, and with a light flick, the pitiful few pieces of cloth disappeared.

　　The bright light above her head shook, illuminating the sight between Willette's legs.

　　The plump and pink petals trembled slightly as the deeper flesh inside shrank in fright.

　　"Ah, so lovely."

　　Marco praised her insincerely as he slid the knife handle over her tense anus, parted her quivering lips, and ruthlessly thrust into her entrance.

　　A tearing pain shot through the center of her legs.

　　Willette couldn't catch her breath and her teeth chattered, "Lanchester..."

　　She didn't know why she called out her fiancé's name. Calling out had no meaning.

　　It was this man inside who abandoned her, watching her being humiliated and defiled.

　　"Tsk."

　　Marco cursed with some dirty language, "She's still a virgin."

　　He pulled out the knife handle, undid his belt, and his thick and long member bounced off Willette's legs.

　　At that moment, Lanchester finally pressed his lips tightly together, motionless, watching the brutality outside the glass window.

　　His fiancée had a pure and beautiful face like a white rose, her platinum curls were always meticulously arranged into a bun, and she wore a sky blue silk dress with a black diamond set in a silver border at the base of her neck.

　　Because black diamond was the color of his eyes.

　　Now her hair was disheveled, her breasts were pressed pitifully on the ground, and she was arching her back like the cheapest whore.

　　The complex ruffled hem of the dress was piled up on her waist, and Marco held her white and smooth thighs, which could not be closed even when they were pressed together.

　　Under the pale light, he could see the cruel excitement on the face of the Crown Prince of the enemy country.

　　Marco was the Crown Prince of the Seragon Empire, with handsome features and golden hair. He was called the lion of the empire because of his outstanding military capabilities.

　　Now, this lion was about to rape his fiancée.

　　With his thick, bulging, and terrifying member, inch by inch, into the entrance that Willette had never opened to any man before.

The war between West Sea and Seragon lasted for more than two hundred years.

　　But now, the two countries were not using weapons or fighting to the death. They were only pulling and attacking each other in a narrow and damp underground interrogation room.

　　Lanchester gave up his fiancée.

　　And Marco wanted to insult West Sea by inflicting sadistic acts.

　　No one cared about Willette's feelings.

　　She was sandwiched between the two men. She can see Lanchester's handsome face when she looked up, and if she tried to close her legs, she would be slapped on the buttocks by Marco behind her.

　　"Don't move, or you'll be fucked by someone outside."

　　Marco spoke with a pleasant and elegant voice, but his vulgar and obscene language did not match his identity as the Empire's heir.

　　Willette gritted her teeth.

　　She was bathed in Lanchester's gaze and felt herself like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

　　She couldn't see Marco's face and didn't know he was staring at her little hole with his beautiful dark golden eyes slightly squinted, as if he was about to taste a delicious dish.

　　The erect penis was already oozing transparent liquid.

　　Marco thrust his waist a few times, smearing the sticky fluid on the inside of Willette's thighs.

　　He felt Willette's trembling and decided to grip one of her legs and hold his penis with the other hand, slowly inserting it into her narrow and tight flower hole.

　　It hurt so much!

　　It was even more painful than the knife handle.

　　Willette couldn't help but let out a sharp cry of pain, and the tears flowed out of her eyes.

　　She could no longer see Lanchester's face, but with her poor dignity, she tightly bit her lip and refused to moan again.

　　Marco gasped, and veins bulged on his forehead.

　　He had only penetrated halfway, and he felt it was difficult to advance.

　　This woman was too tight. Countless soft folds were wriggling inside, trying to push him out, and at the same time, trying to swallow him up.

　　If he hadn't had strong willpower, he would have ejaculated directly.

　　But Lanchester was watching.

　　This poor useless man, who was locked in a chair, had been watching the mating outside the glass window.

　　Marco couldn't afford to lose. He grinned and showed a cruel and provocative smile to Lanchester. He thrust his waist fiercely, breaking through Willette's flesh and reaching the deepest part.

　　His swollen testicles were directly attached to the soft flower.

　　"Ha..."

　　Marco breathed lightly and finally could hold Willette's waist with both hands, repeatedly thrusting fiercely.

　　The stick that went in and out was stained with bits and pieces of blood, and this scene was the best show off.

　　"Willette, Miss. Willette..."

　　He squinted his dark golden pupils and his crimson lips spoke cruelly. "Touch yourself. Now, another man is fucking you."

　　Willette lay on the ground, silent except for the trembling of her shoulders that indicated she was still conscious.

　　Marco bent down and untied the rope from her wrist, then grabbed her hand and reached for the throbbing flesh stick between her legs.

　　Her weak fingers recoiled as soon as they touched his sex, struggling to pull back.

　　Marco laughed, glancing back at Lanchester.

　　However, the prince, now reduced to a prisoner, remained cold and impassive, his brow slightly furrowed in disdain for the one-sided violence.

　　As Marco's eyes gradually darkened, he spun Willette around to face himself.

　　His thick shaft ground once inside her body, causing her to scream in agony. Through teary eyes, she finally saw the face of her attacker.

　　A man too handsome for his own good.

　　His slightly curled blond hair covered his ears, his eyebrows arched, his eyes slightly raised, and his lips were a bright red.

　　He had a pair of beast-like, dangerous, and bright golden pupils that now reflected her naked figure.

　　Marco, the imperial lion.

　　Willette noticed that he had a ruby earring in his left ear. It was a diamond-shaped earring with thorns intertwined around the outer contour.

　　Countless strange images exploded in her mind, and a massive amount of information appeared in succession.

　　Thousands of words flowed past her eyes, finally condensed into a few brief sentences.

　　[Marco is the Crown Prince of the Seragon Empire, the strongest ruler of this continent in the future. He has a cruel and sadistic personality and once raped Miss. Willette, the fiancée of the First Prince of the neighboring country.]

　　[He never regretted his actions until he met Eve, a girl with pure and beautiful character, who deeply touched him. He decided to become her Guardian.]

　　Willette absorbed the information blankly.

　　Her distraction was mistaken by Marco as something else.

　　"Are you stunned?" He sneered, pushing himself up against her soft cervix with force.

　　"I'm better looking than your fiancé?"

Willette hadn't fully come back to her senses yet.

　　Her mind was floating in the air, while her body was still held captive by Marco. The terrifying flesh stick was almost prying open her fragile cervix and probing inside.

　　It was a sharp pain. If Willette lowered her head, she could see her legs spread open wide, revealing a pitiful, pale flower hole that was continuously being pounded by the deep red flesh stick. The glistening wetness was visible in the rapid thrusts.

　　She was now sitting on top of Marco, with her torn dress piled up around her waist and her upper body almost completely exposed.

　　Her trembling breasts quivered as her previously swollen nipples took on a deep red hue.

　　Marco's rough calloused hands were on her waist, pressing against her tender skin, transmitting a scorching heat.

　　His thrusts were without any rhyme or reason, just pure roughness. Willette felt like a shipwreck in the ocean, sometimes tossed high in the air, sometimes smashed deep into the sea.

　　She endured the ravages of the storm, with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and occasional moans filling her ears.

　　Besides that, there were no other sounds in the interrogation room.

　　Lanchester was too calm.

　　Willette faintly thought that if Lanchester would just say a word to comfort her, even just half a sentence, her agony would be somewhat relieved.

　　But he just watched.

　　His gaze was like that of a voyeur.

　　Willette's brain was almost scrambled. Her consciousness was not clear enough, but her body was in enough discomfort.

　　Her abdomen was burning as if there was a fire burning inside her, the poisonous flames licking her internal organs, burning through her heart, crawling through her esophagus and throat.

　　She wanted to vomit, so she pushed against Marco's chest with her hands, but that only caused him to thrust even more vigorously.

　　In her confusion, her right hand raised uncontrollably and slapped him across the face.

　　Smack!

　　The sound of the slap was particularly loud.

　　Marco was thrown off to the side, his cheek quickly turning red.

　　He licked his tingling lips, his tongue touching his gums, and laughed silently. His dark golden pupils were fixed on her, as if a wild beast was about to tear apart its prey.

　　"Fuck you, you little bitch."

　　Marco said in a gentle tone. The next second, he lifted Willette up, took a few steps forward, and forcefully pressed her against the cold glass.

　　At the same time, his flesh stick plunged into Willette's body, leaving no room for escape.

　　Too deep, too deep, too deep!

　　Willette no longer had time to organize the jumbled information in her mind, screaming as she went to hit Marco.

　　She slapped his face, pounded his chest, but only received his crazier resistance. Marco's eyes were slightly red, several strands of messy blond hair soaked in sweat, sticking to his forehead.

　　He found Willette annoying, so he simply grabbed her slender wrists and pressed them against the glass window. He also held onto one of her thighs, forcibly hooking it around his waist.

　　The glass was smashed with a clang, and fine milky-white splashes flew up, then slowly flowed down.

　　For the prisoner inside, this scene was lewd and filthy.

　　Lanchester watched his fiancée.

　　Willette's body was not plump, in fact, it was too thin. Her back was pressed against the glass, and the outline of her shoulder blades was unusually prominent, like two constantly trembling butterfly wings.

　　Every time Marco slammed into her, her waist trembled unconsciously, and even her round buttocks turned a pitiful pink.

　　Her beautiful platinum hair hung down, rubbing against the transparent glass, and sweat and semen clung to it, forming strands and strands.

　　This was clearly a one-sided invasion.

　　But from Lanchester's perspective, it looked like a joint adultery.

　　He clenched his jaw, and a deep, icy black gaze surfaced with a loathing emotion.

　　The hands restrained by the iron shackles on the chair gradually tightened, and the back of his hands bulged with blue veins.