Later that evening Trixie was escorted down through the castle to the main room she had seen earlier. The castle seemed much warmer than usual and the air was heavy as if all the drafts had been taken away. There also seemed to be a lot of activity with guards and staff running around on what seemed pointless errands. Still, she didn’t care, she had a party to attend and she was very excited! It crossed her mind as to whom might be invited. Hazel hadn’t mentioned it, so she assumed it must be all her friends, which would be fun she supposed. It would be nice if Caroline was there too, maybe she would be, although she couldn’t quite work out why she had not thought about it before. After a few more flights of stairs she was half pushed through the large curtains that surrounded the room. It was dark and heavy with silence. Then, as if by magic, candles ignited and lit a path across the floor. Trixie thought this was fantastic and skipped along the trail of light. Around the large rectangular table she had seen that morning was a ring of candles and steps up to it.
“I bet there’s loads of people waiting to shout ‘surprise’ when I get up there,” she thought. Mounting the steps, the light caught her reflection from the silver and gold paint that adorned her body. She wore no physical clothes only things that were stuck to her shone, paint that shimmered and glitter that sparkled across her skin. She looked wonderful with the light dancing around her and the reflections making her body look like an elegant waterfall. She stepped up on to the table, closed her eyes and turned around ready to meet the other guests.
“Keep your eyes closed little one,” said a familiar voice. “Give me your hands and widen your feet for me, good girl.”
Trixie did as she was told and at the same time was allowed to lean against something behind her. “Are you ready for your surprise Trixe? Said the witch.
The smile that started to spread across Trixie’s face suddenly stopped when her wrists and ankles were grasped by straps. She opened her mouth to protest but a small round ball was pushed into her mouth and strapped behind her head. She was trying to focus her now open eyes but could only make out dots of candle light. She waited in panic only to be brought into reality as something painfully gripped her nipples and a weight pulled them down.
Captain Simon had been used repeatedly, discarded long ago and thrown in the dungeon beneath the castle. He had been laying on the floor without the strength for days. He was aware that doors had been banging in the distance and footsteps moving around. Occasionally a shout would go out and a cry would follow, however, a new sense was poking him awake. He was getting colder, and quickly. In an attempt to move to somewhere warmer, he tried to push himself up and heard splashing. It wasn’t long before he realised it was he making the noises and that his cell floor was covered in water. Although weak he managed to get to his knees and as once saw that water was pouring through the gaps in the stonework. He looked at the flow of water and then at the locked cell door; he was in trouble!
The witch stood before her, and she stood alone. No guests had been invited, there was no need for anyone else, and besides, who would she invite? Trixie looked upon the witch and saw the beautiful Hazel. She was naked apart from a transparent black gown and dark eyes. Trixie could not help but feel enormous desire for her regardless of her incapacity. Her nipples ached but that was nothing compared to the throbbing between her legs. Hazel walked over to her and as if reading her mind, she placed her lips over Trixie’s, and pushed a single finger into Trixie’s now wet hole. The feeling brought stars to Trixie’s eyes and she gasped for breath. It was amazing, she had never felt like this before, and before she could adjust to the sensation, Hazel’s tongue danced around the side of her neck and more fingers explored her.
Behind the witch, on a table, rested a razor sharp curved knife. It was very old and had served the witch well in extracting the fast beating hearts of the girls before Trixie. The knife was blue in colour, with a red stone in the hilt, and full of magic. It could sense the young girl and the chemicals being released from her arousal. How many times had the knife been used to extend the life of a witch it did not know, however, Hazel was not the first owner by a long way. There had been many before her, but their names meant nothing; they were just witches and no matter how you dressed them up or made them look young, inside they all smelt of death and decay.
As the beavers had predicted, the water flowed over the bend against the now efficiently dammed river. Far, far below, a pool grew larger and deeper. Even from this distance Connal could see the water flowing through the grates of the castle at ground level. With the rain now falling it would not be long before the flow turned into a large waterfall.
Simon called out into the darkness for help, but the witch’s magic had closed all the heavy doors, and everything was silent save the faint sound of running water. Suddenly, from the gloom of the dungeon, Simon heard the scraping of feet on the stone floor. Screwing up his eyes, he stared into the darkness. For a while all was quiet, until, without warning, a small naked gnome stumbled into a small pool of light coming from a grate high in the ceiling. He looked quite old, which for an gnome could be anything over two hundred years of age and was carrying a large key.
“Ello,” sniffed the gnome. “They all ran and left the keys on a bench.” Simon crouched down to be at the same eye level and said in return,
“Hello,” and he smiled the best smile he could muster. The gnome looked at him for a second and then, as if in competition with the sound of running water, tears filled its big round eyes, and then they streamed down the gnome’s face. He sobbed, loudly and uncontrollably.
“I CAN’T SWIM!” he suddenly blurted out.
Trixie’s world was full of sexual explosions. Chemicals raced through her brain, and when she thought she could take no more, the witch started something new. Unbeknown to her the very thick wooden cross on which she was strapped had been tilted and lay flat on the table. With her legs spread so wide the witch had full access to her and was taking full advantage of it. A warm fluid had been poured over Trixie and with the witch, having cast aside her black gown, she slid herself over the immobile girl, rubbing her breasts and pushing her knee between Trixie’s legs. The feelings were overwhelming for both of them, but when the witch press a smooth ebony stick against Trixie’s bum hole, her back arched and another orgasm rocked the young princess’s body. She felt the stick easily slide inside her and did not fight the urge to clench it tight. She wanted it deeper, she wanted to be filled, and stretched and consumed by the whole mad experience. The witch grasped a double ended penis made of polished bone and rubbed it against Trixie’s clit. It was not long, but very thick, and with careful persuasion she started to ease it in to a now, very wet place.
From the edge of the cliff the two dogs could not have been happier with their plan. The lower bars to the castle were now under water and the river was in full flow. The rain had been on for quite sometime now and a huge waterfall had developed.
“It won’t take long before the water finds its way through the castle drains and up through the floors. Knowing witches as I do, any change to the normal routine will bring on a lock down. The doors will be shut and that will fill the rooms faster through adjoining sewage grates.” Said Brita. “Ah, the raven, you killed the raven knowing she would become nervous when it didn’t return?” said Connal looking at her. Brita did not answer, only smiled and surveyed the exterior of the hill that contained the buried castle.
“I can swim,” called Simon. The water was now only a few feet from the top of his cell and the gnome was holding on to the bars of a cage opposite, and still crying. “Let me out and I can help us both get out,” Simon called again. The gnome, realising he had no choice leaped from the cage and grasped those of Simon’s cell. “Can you save me, can you, can you?” the gnome wailed. Simon put he hand through the bars. “Keys, now!” The elf was so scared he didn’t need telling twice and shoved a big key into Simons outstretched hand. The lock was now three feet underwater and, in the darkness, trying to marry the two up was not easy. It took three attempts and when finally the locked turned the door would still not open due to the weight of the water. What with the screaming gnome and the roar of water, Simon had to focus. It was only after near exhaustion did he realise the door opened in and not out! He put his feet against the wall and pulled with all his might. Slowly the door opened enough for him to squeeze through. Pushing himself to the surface he was at once grasped by a drowning gnome who instead of helping only managed to push Simon back under. The two fought to gain control of their situation with negative effect. Finally, Simon landed a lucky punch on the gnome’s jaw and the fight was over. Treading water and holding the small body afloat, Simon looked around the inky blackness of the rapidly filling dungeon. He scanned for any sign of hope to no avail, until finally looking up and seeing a grill in the ceiling. It looked large enough for a man to pass though at a squeeze, although at this distance he could not be sure. His only hope was let the water push them up and then it was make or break time.
Water now poured under doors, through grills, vents, chimneys and hallways. Guards, elves and all manner of strange creatures ran in panic. The head of the guard, a small troll could not decide what to do. He should tell the witch, but during a ‘ceremony’ the witch could not be disturbed. He had heard tales of creatures being turned inside out for interrupting her. He was not going to be one of them! All the doors in the castle had been sealed by magic and this forced everyone to head up the only available open staircases onto the once battlements. What with the castle being buried, there really was nowhere else to go. Stairs always lead to doors, in this case locked doors!
Still the water flowed, and the castle filled like a gigantic bath.
The witch was oblivious to the events taking place in the castle. She was now connected to her prisoner by the double ended bone penis. She rocked back and forth slowly bringing herself to the orgasm she required before taking Trixie’s heart and extending her own life. Reaching down she found the end of the ebony stick still inside Trixie. The witch wanted to fill every hole, she needed to be held on the edge of orgasm, she had to be joined.
And still the water flowed, faster and stronger, minute by minute.