Sir Galaran struggled against his bindings... they were back. The four daemoness mistresses sent by Lord Galak to break him... he could smell their cunts... how long had they allowed him to sleep? 

"Ug! Get away from me you slimy bitch!" he yelled, his legs struggling as the witch let her thumbs scratch firmly up his inner thighs. He felt naked legs brush his face, a foot stepping on his buging bicep..

"I'll never tell you the location of the Alder Princess or her child!" He said under his breath.

"Oh, we don't CARE" Laughed one of the harpies, her breath squeaky and breathy and mockingly high.

"Our only job is to break you... with pleasure... in as long as it takes!"

With that the day of torment began... the witche's cunt slipped once more down onto him, the tip of his penis neatly in the tight darkness up between her slippery lips...in the darkness where he woud cum. And then it would be the next witch. And then the next. And so it went... They fed him upon milk from their breasts. They would not stop.