When he adjudged the right amount of liquid had found its way into her guts, Gargo yanked out the tube and stuffed a fat old cork into the end of the horn so that she was fully watertight. Then he untied her and dragged her down from the horse, slapping and cuffing her until she rested on her hands and knees. He plonked the bandy legged grull down on her back and had the unspeakable horror ride her around and around the dungeon chamber, the vile creature beating her sweating haunches with a switch whenever she seemed to be slowing down.

After half an hour of this unspeakable torture her knees and the tops of her feet had been scraped raw by the abrasive granite flags and the small of her back ached intolerably from the weight of the solid little gargoyle.

Lilliphane sighed with relief when Gargo called a halt and pushed a bucket under her arse – telling her to sit. The princess closed her eyes in shame as he reached down between her thighs, his thick fingers forcing apart her buttocks as he felt for the bung.

"Let's hope all that galloping about got most of last night's banquet," giggled Gargo unpleasantly, "or else its back on the horse and another hot infusion for Your Highness."

The cork came out with a 'pop' and to Lilliphane it felt as if the whole of her guts fell out into the bucket. Her breath caught in her throat as the foul smelling miasma rose up to envelope her. Desperately she fought to keep her gorge down for fear of choking on the vomitus, her mouth already partially blocked by the bulky tongue clamp.

Lilliphane gave a huge sob of relief when the hateful gaoler professed himself satisfied with the results of the enema. She even held herself still while he wrenched out the horn and replaced it with a fat wooden plug, before spread-eagling her against the wall and binding her to heavy black iron rings cemented into the ancient stone.