Not only did his cock, thick and splitting inside her, enough to cause her pain, in her virginal tightness, begin to pierce her, but so too did the deadly ornaments on the Nightmare Throne; drawing a hundred fine points of blood on her ass, thighs, shoulders and back.  She was light enough that it did no more than bleed her, rather than impale, but the agony, oh, it was exquisite, equal to that of the cock inside her, her hunger opening the way for it to slide to its hilt.<br/><br/>"I had no idea, Balthazar," she whispered, madness lighting her eye like lamprey torches.  She gasped, moaned, shuddered around his member.  "Have I missed out on something known by every peasant wench in the land, by being kept 'pure?'  Or is it only this way for us, the royals?  Put it in me, deeper, Balthazar."