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the hooded service slave we see her as in Broken Duty.\n\nA commission for anonymous. You can find stories like this and more over on my [url=https://www.patreon.com/c/Ralanrwrites]Patreon[/url] and/or [url=https://subscribestar.adult/ralanr]Subscribestar[/url]\n\nEnjoy!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "A look-see at what made Cassandra the hooded service slave we see her as in Broken Duty.

A commission for anonymous. You can find stories like this and more over on my Patreon and/or Subscribestar

Enjoy!", "writing": "Cassandra was never a romantic. If she were being honest with herself she held back the urge to roll her eyes whenever Helen brought the topic up. Almost every night they were together, even before they became intimate, the mink would regale her bodyguard with forbidden romances, courtly love, and the occasional star-crossed lover. At the time the ox couldn’t understand the appeal. Forbidden romances were forbidden for a reason, and courtly love was just a fancy way of dressing infidelity. But now that Helen was off on her trip, she understood it to some degree.\n\n\nIt was how she justified missing her when not a day had passed.\n\n\nAs the bodyguard to the princess-consort, Cassandra had to stick close to Helen at all times. This separation was unorthodox, but it wasn’t her place to argue. After all, Helen would be protected by men she trusted. Men she worked with for years. \n\n\nBut without the princess by her side, Cass found herself at a loss for what to do. No one had given her new orders. The guard captain especially seemed dismissive of her request for a task. Was she expected to sit around and do nothing for the next thirty days? That seemed hardly fair for a woman of her skill. \n\n\nShe’d spent that morning training. Physical exercise to strengthen her body and stamina, and drills to practice her techniques. She’d been lucky to have not needed to fend off many attackers for Helen’s safety, but many didn’t matter when only one needed to get through. \n\n\nBy noon, thoroughly exhausted from going just under too hard, the ox donned her armor and patrolled through the palace. The castle of Mound was, in all fairness, too big. Helen’s home before moving in with her betrothed was large enough to justify a moat for defense and had too many rooms for Cassandra’s liking. The guard there used one spare just to fuck when no one was watching.\n\n\nBut the Castle of Mound? It was too large for a moat. Being carved from a mountain and still fused to its parent like a growth, the palace and levels of floors were hidden behind its massive walls. There were rooms upon rooms upon rooms. From the outside Cass was certain she’d not seen half of what the castle had to offer. \n\n\nAnd while an inquisitive servant with excess amounts of free time would go searching for this, Cass knew that was unwise. Nothing opened suspicion like a foreign guardian searching the castle out of curiosity. She’d seen supposed allies of Helen’s father be tossed in the dungeon upon discovery of spying, or even suspect of it. Neither was ever let out. \n\n\nSo instead she stood guard in Helen’s room. An empty room that would remain so for thirty days, holding nothing of value unless one considered the mattress worth stealing. Even if they did, the mechanics of how they would get it out unnoticed were a brain teaser that kept her occupied in the hours to come. \n\n\nGiven the core of guard work was standing around and watching, Cassandra grew bored quickly. In her defense, by now she and Helen would already be doing something. Not intimate, that was saved for evenings alone or whenever Cass wanted to be, as the mink put it, spontaneous. \n\n\nBut there were no trips to the library or assisting in courtly duties. No attending meetings with her besides other bodyguards of royal members. No, it was just her guarding one room because she had nothing else to do. It brought back memories of her early days in the business of protecting others when Helen’s father put her on a rotation at a grain silo. She’d have passed the time by counting birds flying overhead. There were no birds, at least no feral ones, in the castle to count. She tried to substitute it with passersby but found it wanting. \n\n\nPrincess Vivian and her Lady-in-waiting, Talia, passed by on occasion. Both took a glance at Cassandra who nodded in return. Vivian, being the smug brat she was, dismissively chuckled at the ox. Talia meanwhile stared at the guard, the veil covering her mouth making the expression all the more unreadable. The ox harbored no ill will toward the pantheress. Despite Helen’s complaints about Talia being a former courtesan with much less colorful words, Cass saw her as a kindred spirit in a way. They were both graced by the powers that be to work in stations far above their birthright. It was a shame that Talia was so often seen by Vivian’s side as she’d love to speak with her. \n\n\nPerhaps they had more in common than she realized. \n\n\nAt noon and on her first break for a midday meal, Cassandra was interrupted by Brutus, a stallion guard. “There’s been an incident in the princess consort’s room,” He said, grabbing Cass. Being an ox who took the time to strengthen herself, Brutas couldn’t just pull her along without her consent. As for the danger to the room, that didn’t matter because Helen was not presently in the castle. She supposed that it would be against her duty if she chose not to answer the call to defend an empty room, and nothing was worse for a guard than dereliction of duty. \n\n\nQueen Marian waited for her and Brutus in Helen’s bedroom. Frederick, another stallion and the queen’s personal guard stood proudly at her side while she sat in the middle of the room, facing the door. Cass didn’t find it odd until she realized Brutus closed the door behind them.\n\n\n“Your majesty,” Cass bowed her head. Better to play things politely than act on a misunderstanding, “I was told an incident has occurred here. What seems to be the problem?” \n\n\n“An incident has occurred here,” The queen stood up, “Several times in fact. Specifically there,” She pointed to the bed. Cass’s blood ran cold. “Do you wish to plead your innocence with lies, or express the truth of your guilt?”\n\n\nBrutus grabbed her arm before she could react. “M-My queen,” Cass pulled it free, “I’m not sure what you mean. I would never–”\n\n\n“So lies it is,” Marian kicked up, crossed the room, and clapped her hand across Cassandra’s cheek. “Do you think I am blind, deaf, and dumb? Not a single thing happens in this castle without my knowledge. Many of which I’d rather not know, but this was the most foul. I may loathe my son’s bride-to-be, but if there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s knowing she shares a bed with a commoner.”\n\n\nBrutus prevented her from nursing the throbbing sting upon her cheek. Frederick grabbed her other arm, slipping through to undo what armor he could. Too stunned from the reveal, Cassandra didn’t try to pull away until her arm was bare. \n\n\n“My queen, there’s a mis–”\n\n\nAnother slap. The opposite hand to the other cheek. “Do you have any idea of the risk you’ve brought upon this kingdom? How will her house react upon discovering this affair? This act of passion could spark a civil war. And still, you lie to me?”\n\n\nShe grit her teeth as Brutus tore off the rest of her armor, “Forgive me, my queen,” She tried to fall to her knees but neither stallion allowed it, “I…I assaulted the princess. Helen is only guilty of catching my lusts.” Better to let herself be punished than drag Helen into it. She was, after all, nothing but a commoner. Easily replaceable despite her best efforts. \n\n\nThe queen inched closer to whisper. “Admirable, but I know that slut enjoys your company. I would be willing to forgive you if you show me just how eager a whore you are. Brutus and Frederick have been working hard, but neither has been given relief until now. Or I could mount your head on a pike. I am merciful enough to grant you that choice.” \n\n\nBetween the choices of preserving her dignity and living, Cass chose to live another day. The two stallions pushed her forward and the queen demanded she strip. Her chainmail hit the floor with a metallic thump, covered by the rest of her clothes. The ox looked away as eyes veered down towards her cock. Many knew she had one, but she’d shown it to few. \n\n\n“I thought she’d be smaller,” Brutus said, unsure if he was annoyed or intimidated by her size. \n\n\nFrederick didn’t care. He crossed over and pulled his cock out, forcing Cass to her knees. It reeked of unwashed musk and sweat. It carried weight with the violin slap across her face, followed by a jeering smile as he pressed the flat head against her lips. \n\n\n“I better not feel any teeth.”\n\n\nThe most intimate thing Cass did with her mouth was tangle tongues with Helen. She’d not once braced one's genitalia against her snout. She buried the urge to hurl at the sudden push of his rod down her gullet. The salty tang of sweat coated her tongue from the underside of it. Like a sword shoved into a sheath. \n\n\nShe sputtered and gagged when he pulled out, the urge to hurl building up but refusing to escape. By her horns, the stallion led her to the bed. Cass didn’t protest, how could she? Violence toward Frederick could be seen as violence toward the queen and that would get her executed. \n\n\n“I’m taking her cunt,” Frederick pushed Brutus away as the other stallion got closer.\n\n\n“You just took her mouth,” Brutus said.\n\n\n“Yeah, and? Be more proactive if you don’t want sloppy seconds.” \n\n\nFrederick outranked Brutus enough to make arguing pointless. Doffing his pants, Brutus pressed his cock against Cassandra’s gasping mouth and pushed inside, using her horns as handles for balance. All the energy she had to protest was instead pushed to keep her mouth steady as Frederick split her lower lips wide. She wasn’t a virgin, but it’d been years since anyone took that. \n\n\n“Fuck, she’s tight,” Frederick grunted, having to slow his thrusts for his comfort rather than her care. “I knew freaks like her were tight, but it’s a vice down here.”\n\n\n“I heard they get tighter when hard,” Brutus said, laughing as his cock slipped deeper down the ox’s maw, “Can you imagine that?”\n\n\nThe two stallions used her holes without worry. Not even the prying eye of the queen slowed them. If anything it encouraged them. Queen Marian herself leaned back into her chair at the sight, hand resting on her crotch but not pulling the clothes aside. Her face screamed enjoyment, but she had the restraint to stay dignified. Especially as the dignity of Cass was batted away like Brutus’s balls to her chin.\n\n\nIt could have been hours or minutes when they finished inside her. Brutus’s thick seed coating her throat, and dollops of Frederick’s shooting up her cunt. Of the two she could still cough up Brutus’s, which she did over Brutus’s hooves. He swore, raising his fist to strike. \n\n\n“Enough,” Queen Marian’s voice thrummed through the three as if she shouted. She instructed Brutus and Frederick to get dressed. Cass didn’t bother reaching for her clothes, this wasn’t over. Not with the smile crossing her queen’s face. \n\n\n“I expected more of a show from you, but I suppose it was in the moment,” the queen sat up, making her way to the door with slow casual steps. “I am a woman of my word, for what is a queen if my word is not to be trusted? I am willing to forgive you, but forgiveness must come through penance. Bring her to the dungeons, I will have my top torturer start her…rehabilitation.” \n\n\nCass bucked with the queen’s command. The dungeon? She’d never see the light of day from down there. Frederick grabbed her before she could protest, pushing her to the bed to avoid her frantic kicks. Brutus bound her muzzle shut with a bundle of rope, then covered her head in burlap before binding her arms together. She gave in when they hoisted her up, realizing there was nothing she could do but come quietly. Her last bit of rebellion was spent making them drag her down the corridors. Their grunts were of little substance. \n\n\n\n\n***\n\n\n\n\nCassandra woke up to darkness, unsure if it was from the lack of light or the burlap sack still covering her head. \n\n\nThe ox rolled around, discovering her hands bound before her by chains and her legs locked at the ankles. A solid iron collar latched around her neck, and when she pulled the hood off she discovered only darkness. She curled up for warmth against the cold stone floor.\n\n\nFootsteps echoed in the distance. A light flickered. There was enough for Cass to make out her cell, citing the iron bars and the lack of a bedroll. The closer the light came the more it revealed, letting the ox see her cock covered by some strange metal device with runes etched into it. In her panic, she’d not noticed the sudden weight from her crotch.\n\n\n“I wouldn’t touch it,” said a voice as Cass reached for the cage, “It is poor form for a prisoner to toy with her restraints.”\n\n\nFrom a candle to a brasier, flickering light flooded the room. The speaker stood before the cage, clad in warm silks and a veil to hide her mouth. Cassandra glared at the pantheress, waiting to hear her gloat. \n\n\n“What are you doing here?” She asked when no gloating came. \n\n\n“You are waiting for your reeducation, yes? Punishment for fucking the prince’s wife-to-be.” \n\n\nCass raised her brow when the pantheress discarded her garb. Underneath the warm silks was a hard leather corset puffing out her breasts, with leather gloves and boots that clicked along the stone floor after she put them on. The only thing she kept wearing was her veil, as though her face deserved more modesty than her body.\n\n\n“By the head torturer. You’re just a lady-in-waiting.” And a former whore, but Cass seeing what was about to happen, figured it wasn’t a good idea to insult the pantheress. \n\n\n“On the surface, yes. But you know as well as I that lies run through these walls like rivers.”\n\n\nThe ox snorted, “So you’re the head torturer?” She peered behind the feline to find a lack of muscled guards, “How do you intend to torture me? In case you’ve forgotten, I can overpower you.”\n\n\n“And then what?” Talia asked, “You run through the castle, naked and bound, to escape. What will Helen think when she sees you’ve vanished if we don’t catch you and put your head on a pike.”\n\n\nShe was right, not that Cass liked it. “If you intend to threaten her to keep me compliant, know that I have a breaking point.”\n\n\nDespite the veil, perhaps because of her eyes, Cassandra saw the pantheress smile. “Of course. That is why we’ve come prepared.” \n\n\nAnd with the snap of her finger, the ring locking Cassandra’s cage began to shrink. The ox keeled over, fingers desperately slipping through the ring to try and keep it still. But the magic was strong, risking turning the ox into a eunuch until Talia snapped her fingers yet again, instantly alleviating the size and the pain.\n\n\n“Have I made my power clear?” Talia asked. Cassandra swore on her legacy, then pleaded for when the pantheress readied herself for another snap.\n\n\nDespite the cage’s enchantment, Talia did not work without caution. She only allowed Cassandra to move while bound, ensuring each step either dragged drains along the ground or was too taut to do so. Under threat of punishment Cass allowed the pantheress to lock her arms behind her and bind her legs tight by ropes. \n\n\n“So fat,” The pantheress cupped her prisoner’s breasts, “You have the envy of both men and women. It’s a shame you ruin it by being a muscle-bound fool.”\n\n\n“My body is trained for duty.”\n\n\n“I’m sure the princess-consort enjoys your nightly duties.” \n\n\nCass’s growl turned to squeals when Talia twisted a nipple. She then unfurled a bundle of rope, tossing one end over a hoop over the ox’s head. Slowly she looped it around a singular tit, then the other until they were bound breasts pushed out. \n\n\nThen she pulled the other end. Cass grunted through grit teeth as her body weight strained against the ties of her breasts. Every sway off balance became another torment fueling her tirade of swears. \n\n\n“That’s enough of that,” Talia said, stuffing a ball of rolled leather into the ox’s maw, with straps so tight they bit into her head. It muffled her cries as the panteress kneeled to cup and squeeze her balls, yanking them out just enough for a noose to tighten around them.\n\n\nShe returned to the pulley, yanking with heaving breaths silenced by the ox’s gagged cries. The higher Cass went, the tighter the loop became around her balls as well as her heavier strain from her weight. \n\n\nWhen Talia finished Cass stood at the tips of her toes, doing all she could to alleviate the pressure on his tits. The pantheress circled her, admiring her work and smiling at the hatred Cassandra beamed when she could. \n\n\n“Comfy?” She teased. Cassandra huffed in agony. “Good.” \n\n\nShe leaned into Cass, using the rope as support. “When you became a guard, you swore an oath. Your body is in service to the crown. So long as you did your duty, you were given autonomy and more. But having betrayed that, having broken your oath, you have given up any right to your autonomy.” \n\n\nSharp claws danced along Cass’s chest, almost hard enough to cut. “This body isn’t yours anymore. It belongs to the royal family, specifically the queen and all she allows to use it. Be thankful you are still useful in that regard.” \n\n\nShe pulled Cass’s head back by her hair and spat in her face. Cass reeled in anger, immediately regretting challenging her careful balance. Talia slapped her face for good measure. “You are not a soldier anymore, you are a slave. In time you will learn to accept this, to graciously take what is given, be it my spit or my mistress’s rod. Now, normally I’d lie and say I’d get no satisfaction out of this. That this is just my duty under the queen. I’m sure you understand, unlike your lover.” \n\n\nBy both horns Talia pulled Cass close, her whisper speaking with the cold rage of violence before action, “She dares to look down on me for being a whore when she has you bed her beck and call? The damned hypocrite.”\n\n\nThe fear of what would come next snuffed Cassandra’s rage. Talia slipped out of view, just enough that it hurt too much to twist around to follow. Her heels clicked across the stone floor, each echoing a resounding smack against the ox’s heart. \n\n\nThen came the strike. The air screamed before something cracked at her thigh. Cass winced into her gag and tried to inch away. The second strike came just under the first. Then the third. The fourth hit the first spot again. Sharp smacks that refused to cut skin, leaving red marks underneath her fur. \n\n\nThey went to the left next, then her backside. Every shiver and shake from the impact added strain to the ropes. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her gag muzzled any attempts to plead for mercy. \n\n\nAll she could do was imagine the implementation of torture. She swore there were spikes on it. Maybe it was lined with teeth to bite into her flesh. She considered it a whip but there was no snap in the air, just a whooshing cry of parted wind. \n\n\nShe finally saw the tool of torture when Talia circled to her front. It was nothing more than a thin wooden rod, something Cassandra could snap over her knee. Talia licked her lips, hefting one of the bound breasts. Pressure surged through Cassandra’s tit. She shook her head, begging, but the pantheress’s smile showed sharp teeth. \n\n\nOne strike was all it took to make her regret everything. Talia didn’t stop at one. She caned the bound tit until its reddened flesh was covered in red lines, then she did the same to the other. By then Cassandra tried to keep still and push the agony out of her mind, but she had neither the training nor the discipline to succeed. All she could do was pray her ropes would fray. \n\n\nHer knee slammed Cassandra’s balls. The ox gnawed at her gag, unable to keel over from the throbbing pain. “Do you want to know a secret?” Talia whispered, lining up her next strike. Cassandra did not answer, so could barely make out her words as is, “The queen considered castrating you when she discovered your actions. Both the princess, my princess, and I considered that…” she struck again, sending the dull aching shock reverberating through Cassandra’s form. “Excessive.\n\n\n“While making you a eunuch is fitting, we both knew that your balls are much more valuable in keeping you in line. So you better thank me.” She struck again. “And I’m not hearing it.” \n\n\nDesperate for her to stop, Cassandra pleaded her gratitude behind the gag. Talia’s ears perked, leaning in to hear her. “Hmm…I can’t quite make it out. You must not be trying hard enough. Let me help you with that.” \n\n\nThree more strikes across her reddened ass was all it took for Cassandra to give in. Any illusion she had of surviving torture fell apart as Talia unstrapped her gag and a flood of appreciation came through the broken dam of her resolve. The pantheress bit her lip as she listened, eager to hear more. Cass’s voice broke long before the pantheress told her to stop.\n\n\nIf she could have chosen to stay bound instead of facing the pain of loosening ties, Cassandra would have. But she had no choice and Talia was determined to beat that into her. At the end of her first session, the ox could scarcely hold herself up, doing so out of fear of what may happen if her tormentor needed to drag her back to the cell. \n\n\n“Drink,” Talia tossed a wineskin filled with water over the collapsed ox, then shut the cell door with a clang followed by a locking click. “Present yourself properly when I next return.”\n\n\nThe water was lukewarm when she decided to drink it. Maybe it always was. Without the light of torches, she had to be careful feeling around for it, careful not to spill it over her as she greedily gulped it down. She hissed pain at each movement, her chains still clattering against the stone floor. Soon it became her only way of knowing she was alive. \n\n\nTalia arrived at random. Cassandra had no notion of time without a window, and the torments she suffered made it impossible to focus on how long her pauses were. She tried to count the seconds but the fruitless endeavor did more harm to her psyche than good. One thing was clear, the ox was not getting the sleep she wanted. If not from the visits, then the strange sensation coaxing her cage. \n\n\nIt shook. It was quiet, so much the ox thought she was going insane, but the vibration was there. Despite its trappings, her cock tried to erect itself with the sensation. Her breath was short, her chest warm, and her nipples tight. It grew stronger after every session, until Cass could do little but writhe after fruitless attempts to shut it off. It only stopped just as she was about to slip over the edge. Eventually, she whined for it to not. \n\n\nBy the fourth, maybe fifth, visit Cassandra assumed the position when footsteps approached. She kneeled with her legs open, head down, and chest forward with her arms behind her back. Talia’s praise should have infuriated her, but they came as a relief. Even as the torments continued she sensed Talia was pleased, and her mistress’s pleasure in turn pleasured her. \n\n\nThen she swore to herself, snapping back that there was no joy in being her prisoner. \n\n\nThe next visit rewarded her with a thick brass nose ring that served as an anchoring point for a leather mask over her face. “Does a slave need to see?” Talia asked when she finished the task.\n\n\n“Only if its owner wishes for it,” Cassandra said. She vocally referred to herself as an it now, an object, a thing. She fought hard to keep her internal thoughts secure, or else the conditioning would seep in like a poison, but that was doing its work. Talia was breaking her. Even the strongest stones shatter in time. \n\n\nOn the seventh visit, another set of footsteps followed her trainer. At first, Cass assumed it was the queen and considered defying in some way, but she’d been in her waiting stance as soon as she heard the sounds. \n\n\nA playful voice spoke first when they entered the room. “You can’t have all the fun,” \n\n\n“It is a balance,” Talia said, “I needed to be sure it was ready before letting you assist me.” \n\n\nGods, she knew that voice. Cass stifled her gulp and clenched her fists, softening them once the voices were closer. There was no denying that haughty yet spoiled tone, the inexperienced mirror of the current queen. Princess Vivian, the royal brat. \n\n\nThe cell doors opened with a clang. “I told you it would look good,” Vivian said, stepping in to loop a finger around Cassandra’s thick brass nose ring. She pulled enough to test it, chastising the ox when she tried to stand. “Doesn’t it look more fitting? Like a feral cattle bred with one purpose in mind.”\n\n\nThe insult empowered the sensation of her cage. Cass bit back her moan, refusing to give into the feedback loop of degradation to pleasure. The fox’s playful laughter bounced off the walls. \n\n\n“Of course, princess. Your creativity knows no bounds.” \n\n\n“Oh, Talia, you always know just what to say.” \n\n\nSomething pushed Cass forward down until her lips met a bare foot. She kissed it without command, knowing damn well what they wanted. Talia had whipped it into her already. \n\n\n“Happy to see this thing knows its place,” Vivian said. \n\n\nCass swallowed her rage. “It appreciates your validation,” she said.\n\n\nTalia’s claws pressed against the ox’s back, “It was not permitted to speak.”\n\n\nThey have pierced her skin if Vivian had not made a tsking noise with what was no doubt a shake of her head, “Talia, don’t be so harsh. It is doing its best to make me happy and everyone knows how much I like sycophants, as blind as they may be. In fact, why don’t we give it a chance?”\n\n\nAt the snap of Vivian’s fingers Talia pulled Cass up by her nose ring. They led the ox forward into darkness, forcing her back to her knees against the cold floor just outside her cage. Wood scraped against stone. A chair. Vivian sat at it after a moment, the subtle sounds of her dress vanishing. \n\n\nThen she smelled it. The wet and waiting scent of a cunt in desire. It was different from Helen’s, but not in a way she could explain it. \n\n\n“My sources tell me Helen’s bodyguard makes her scream behind those walls. It better not disappoint me,” Vivian said, pulling Cass’s maw into her cunt. \n\n\nCassandra, unlike the men of this castle, did know how to use her tongue. But it was the knowledge of a novice. Helen liked it only as foreplay, easing her into the main course of her bodyguard’s fat rod. The way Vivian held her down, how her leg locked behind the ox’s head, told Cass this was not foreplay. So no matter her technique, how slow she went or how deep she pushed, the princess was dissatisfied. Audibly yawning like a child in a lesson.\n\n\n“Is this it?” Vivian complained. Cass’s cage buzzed. “Is Helen so easily pleased by your cock that you do not know how to please a woman? Clearly, I have overestimated you both.” \n\n\nShe pushed Cass off and snapped her fingers. Within seconds a new sound slipped at her thighs. A black figure, one who greedily yet carefully eased herself into the princess’s pleasure. \n\n\nTalia. Cassandra struggled to believe what unfolded before her eyes. Talia, the queen’s top torturer, Vivian’s lady-in-waiting, was servicing the princess intimately without hesitation. Worse still, Vivian eased into it as if expecting it, and from her soft breaths and moans, she was experiencing this sort of pleasure. \n\n\nTalia was sleeping with the princess. Of all the hypocrisy. Cass grit her teeth and surged forward. Vivian snapped her fingers, tightening the ox’s cage to make her keel over in open-mouth pain. \n\n\n“Be a good toy and wait until you are needed,” Vivian commanded, releasing the ring’s magic when Cass returned to the kneeling position. The ox watched the princess clasp the pantheress’s scalp. Not rough like a servant doing a poor job, but gently like a lover’s caress. By the gods, they were just sleeping together. They dared to punish her, enslave Cassandra, for the same thing. How dare there? How dare they!\n\n\nHer resentment lingered well past the session. Vivian joined them regularly, or at least as often as she could. Cassandra’s torments seemed to serve more as foreplay for the two than repentance for her misdeeds, not that the ox could argue against it. It was smarter to obey, to remain loyal for Helen’s sake. \n\n\nMaybe Talia understood Cassandra’s realization and went easier on her. The pantheress still struck with marks and punished the ox’s mistakes, but there was a more merciful air to her now. The gifts were subtle; extra water, a few extra seconds to adjust from a grievous sting, a disapproving tone on her oral technique instead of a whip snap. \n\n\nThough Vivian might have taken the sadism. Whenever the fox joined in she took delight in making the ox wince. Her balls were an especially valued target, acting as the fox’s stress reliever with kicks, knee strikes, and squeezing. Somehow she knew just when to stop, bringing Cassandra to the edge of breaking every time. She’d move onto Cassandra’s tits after. \n\n\nThe runes of her cage kept her aroused. She felt it when collapsing from exhaustion. She felt it waking up. Her cock braced the cage’s walls in a fruitless endeavor to escape. Their pain turned to her pleasure, and her gratitude became less of an act. Worse still, she grew jealous of the pair enjoying themselves when they were done with her. Even upon the revelation that Vivian enjoyed servicing Talia as much as Talia did her, all Cassandra could think about was her inability to cum. Strangely the intimate moments of her torturers never came up when the queen visited to watch, but Queen Marian rarely stayed for long. \n\n\nCassandra assumed the position at the sound of footsteps, not knowing if they were coming her way or simply passing her room by. She got better at counting how many were there. Today she counted two, no, three. Her ears perked up at a fourth set of footsteps, skittish and scared as if pushed along. A new prisoner? She brushed that thought aside when her cell door opened, and bowed her hooded head to the stranger brought by her owners.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Cassandra was never a romantic. If she were being honest with herself she held back the urge to roll her eyes whenever Helen brought the topic up. Almost every night they were together, even before they became intimate, the mink would regale her bodyguard with forbidden romances, courtly love, and the occasional star-crossed lover. At the time the ox couldn’t understand the appeal. Forbidden romances were forbidden for a reason, and courtly love was just a fancy way of dressing infidelity. But now that Helen was off on her trip, she understood it to some degree.


It was how she justified missing her when not a day had passed.


As the bodyguard to the princess-consort, Cassandra had to stick close to Helen at all times. This separation was unorthodox, but it wasn’t her place to argue. After all, Helen would be protected by men she trusted. Men she worked with for years.


But without the princess by her side, Cass found herself at a loss for what to do. No one had given her new orders. The guard captain especially seemed dismissive of her request for a task. Was she expected to sit around and do nothing for the next thirty days? That seemed hardly fair for a woman of her skill.


She’d spent that morning training. Physical exercise to strengthen her body and stamina, and drills to practice her techniques. She’d been lucky to have not needed to fend off many attackers for Helen’s safety, but many didn’t matter when only one needed to get through.


By noon, thoroughly exhausted from going just under too hard, the ox donned her armor and patrolled through the palace. The castle of Mound was, in all fairness, too big. Helen’s home before moving in with her betrothed was large enough to justify a moat for defense and had too many rooms for Cassandra’s liking. The guard there used one spare just to fuck when no one was watching.


But the Castle of Mound? It was too large for a moat. Being carved from a mountain and still fused to its parent like a growth, the palace and levels of floors were hidden behind its massive walls. There were rooms upon rooms upon rooms. From the outside Cass was certain she’d not seen half of what the castle had to offer.


And while an inquisitive servant with excess amounts of free time would go searching for this, Cass knew that was unwise. Nothing opened suspicion like a foreign guardian searching the castle out of curiosity. She’d seen supposed allies of Helen’s father be tossed in the dungeon upon discovery of spying, or even suspect of it. Neither was ever let out.


So instead she stood guard in Helen’s room. An empty room that would remain so for thirty days, holding nothing of value unless one considered the mattress worth stealing. Even if they did, the mechanics of how they would get it out unnoticed were a brain teaser that kept her occupied in the hours to come.


Given the core of guard work was standing around and watching, Cassandra grew bored quickly. In her defense, by now she and Helen would already be doing something. Not intimate, that was saved for evenings alone or whenever Cass wanted to be, as the mink put it, spontaneous.


But there were no trips to the library or assisting in courtly duties. No attending meetings with her besides other bodyguards of royal members. No, it was just her guarding one room because she had nothing else to do. It brought back memories of her early days in the business of protecting others when Helen’s father put her on a rotation at a grain silo. She’d have passed the time by counting birds flying overhead. There were no birds, at least no feral ones, in the castle to count. She tried to substitute it with passersby but found it wanting.


Princess Vivian and her Lady-in-waiting, Talia, passed by on occasion. Both took a glance at Cassandra who nodded in return. Vivian, being the smug brat she was, dismissively chuckled at the ox. Talia meanwhile stared at the guard, the veil covering her mouth making the expression all the more unreadable. The ox harbored no ill will toward the pantheress. Despite Helen’s complaints about Talia being a former courtesan with much less colorful words, Cass saw her as a kindred spirit in a way. They were both graced by the powers that be to work in stations far above their birthright. It was a shame that Talia was so often seen by Vivian’s side as she’d love to speak with her.


Perhaps they had more in common than she realized.


At noon and on her first break for a midday meal, Cassandra was interrupted by Brutus, a stallion guard. “There’s been an incident in the princess consort’s room,” He said, grabbing Cass. Being an ox who took the time to strengthen herself, Brutas couldn’t just pull her along without her consent. As for the danger to the room, that didn’t matter because Helen was not presently in the castle. She supposed that it would be against her duty if she chose not to answer the call to defend an empty room, and nothing was worse for a guard than dereliction of duty.


Queen Marian waited for her and Brutus in Helen’s bedroom. Frederick, another stallion and the queen’s personal guard stood proudly at her side while she sat in the middle of the room, facing the door. Cass didn’t find it odd until she realized Brutus closed the door behind them.


“Your majesty,” Cass bowed her head. Better to play things politely than act on a misunderstanding, “I was told an incident has occurred here. What seems to be the problem?”


“An incident has occurred here,” The queen stood up, “Several times in fact. Specifically there,” She pointed to the bed. Cass’s blood ran cold. “Do you wish to plead your innocence with lies, or express the truth of your guilt?”


Brutus grabbed her arm before she could react. “M-My queen,” Cass pulled it free, “I’m not sure what you mean. I would never–”


“So lies it is,” Marian kicked up, crossed the room, and clapped her hand across Cassandra’s cheek. “Do you think I am blind, deaf, and dumb? Not a single thing happens in this castle without my knowledge. Many of which I’d rather not know, but this was the most foul. I may loathe my son’s bride-to-be, but if there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s knowing she shares a bed with a commoner.”


Brutus prevented her from nursing the throbbing sting upon her cheek. Frederick grabbed her other arm, slipping through to undo what armor he could. Too stunned from the reveal, Cassandra didn’t try to pull away until her arm was bare.


“My queen, there’s a mis–”


Another slap. The opposite hand to the other cheek. “Do you have any idea of the risk you’ve brought upon this kingdom? How will her house react upon discovering this affair? This act of passion could spark a civil war. And still, you lie to me?”


She grit her teeth as Brutus tore off the rest of her armor, “Forgive me, my queen,” She tried to fall to her knees but neither stallion allowed it, “I…I assaulted the princess. Helen is only guilty of catching my lusts.” Better to let herself be punished than drag Helen into it. She was, after all, nothing but a commoner. Easily replaceable despite her best efforts.


The queen inched closer to whisper. “Admirable, but I know that slut enjoys your company. I would be willing to forgive you if you show me just how eager a whore you are. Brutus and Frederick have been working hard, but neither has been given relief until now. Or I could mount your head on a pike. I am merciful enough to grant you that choice.”


Between the choices of preserving her dignity and living, Cass chose to live another day. The two stallions pushed her forward and the queen demanded she strip. Her chainmail hit the floor with a metallic thump, covered by the rest of her clothes. The ox looked away as eyes veered down towards her cock. Many knew she had one, but she’d shown it to few.


“I thought she’d be smaller,” Brutus said, unsure if he was annoyed or intimidated by her size.


Frederick didn’t care. He crossed over and pulled his cock out, forcing Cass to her knees. It reeked of unwashed musk and sweat. It carried weight with the violin slap across her face, followed by a jeering smile as he pressed the flat head against her lips.


“I better not feel any teeth.”


The most intimate thing Cass did with her mouth was tangle tongues with Helen. She’d not once braced one's genitalia against her snout. She buried the urge to hurl at the sudden push of his rod down her gullet. The salty tang of sweat coated her tongue from the underside of it. Like a sword shoved into a sheath.


She sputtered and gagged when he pulled out, the urge to hurl building up but refusing to escape. By her horns, the stallion led her to the bed. Cass didn’t protest, how could she? Violence toward Frederick could be seen as violence toward the queen and that would get her executed.


“I’m taking her cunt,” Frederick pushed Brutus away as the other stallion got closer.


“You just took her mouth,” Brutus said.


“Yeah, and? Be more proactive if you don’t want sloppy seconds.”


Frederick outranked Brutus enough to make arguing pointless. Doffing his pants, Brutus pressed his cock against Cassandra’s gasping mouth and pushed inside, using her horns as handles for balance. All the energy she had to protest was instead pushed to keep her mouth steady as Frederick split her lower lips wide. She wasn’t a virgin, but it’d been years since anyone took that.


“Fuck, she’s tight,” Frederick grunted, having to slow his thrusts for his comfort rather than her care. “I knew freaks like her were tight, but it’s a vice down here.”


“I heard they get tighter when hard,” Brutus said, laughing as his cock slipped deeper down the ox’s maw, “Can you imagine that?”


The two stallions used her holes without worry. Not even the prying eye of the queen slowed them. If anything it encouraged them. Queen Marian herself leaned back into her chair at the sight, hand resting on her crotch but not pulling the clothes aside. Her face screamed enjoyment, but she had the restraint to stay dignified. Especially as the dignity of Cass was batted away like Brutus’s balls to her chin.


It could have been hours or minutes when they finished inside her. Brutus’s thick seed coating her throat, and dollops of Frederick’s shooting up her cunt. Of the two she could still cough up Brutus’s, which she did over Brutus’s hooves. He swore, raising his fist to strike.


“Enough,” Queen Marian’s voice thrummed through the three as if she shouted. She instructed Brutus and Frederick to get dressed. Cass didn’t bother reaching for her clothes, this wasn’t over. Not with the smile crossing her queen’s face.


“I expected more of a show from you, but I suppose it was in the moment,” the queen sat up, making her way to the door with slow casual steps. “I am a woman of my word, for what is a queen if my word is not to be trusted? I am willing to forgive you, but forgiveness must come through penance. Bring her to the dungeons, I will have my top torturer start her…rehabilitation.”


Cass bucked with the queen’s command. The dungeon? She’d never see the light of day from down there. Frederick grabbed her before she could protest, pushing her to the bed to avoid her frantic kicks. Brutus bound her muzzle shut with a bundle of rope, then covered her head in burlap before binding her arms together. She gave in when they hoisted her up, realizing there was nothing she could do but come quietly. Her last bit of rebellion was spent making them drag her down the corridors. Their grunts were of little substance.




***




Cassandra woke up to darkness, unsure if it was from the lack of light or the burlap sack still covering her head.


The ox rolled around, discovering her hands bound before her by chains and her legs locked at the ankles. A solid iron collar latched around her neck, and when she pulled the hood off she discovered only darkness. She curled up for warmth against the cold stone floor.


Footsteps echoed in the distance. A light flickered. There was enough for Cass to make out her cell, citing the iron bars and the lack of a bedroll. The closer the light came the more it revealed, letting the ox see her cock covered by some strange metal device with runes etched into it. In her panic, she’d not noticed the sudden weight from her crotch.


“I wouldn’t touch it,” said a voice as Cass reached for the cage, “It is poor form for a prisoner to toy with her restraints.”


From a candle to a brasier, flickering light flooded the room. The speaker stood before the cage, clad in warm silks and a veil to hide her mouth. Cassandra glared at the pantheress, waiting to hear her gloat.


“What are you doing here?” She asked when no gloating came.


“You are waiting for your reeducation, yes? Punishment for fucking the prince’s wife-to-be.”


Cass raised her brow when the pantheress discarded her garb. Underneath the warm silks was a hard leather corset puffing out her breasts, with leather gloves and boots that clicked along the stone floor after she put them on. The only thing she kept wearing was her veil, as though her face deserved more modesty than her body.


“By the head torturer. You’re just a lady-in-waiting.” And a former whore, but Cass seeing what was about to happen, figured it wasn’t a good idea to insult the pantheress.


“On the surface, yes. But you know as well as I that lies run through these walls like rivers.”


The ox snorted, “So you’re the head torturer?” She peered behind the feline to find a lack of muscled guards, “How do you intend to torture me? In case you’ve forgotten, I can overpower you.”


“And then what?” Talia asked, “You run through the castle, naked and bound, to escape. What will Helen think when she sees you’ve vanished if we don’t catch you and put your head on a pike.”


She was right, not that Cass liked it. “If you intend to threaten her to keep me compliant, know that I have a breaking point.”


Despite the veil, perhaps because of her eyes, Cassandra saw the pantheress smile. “Of course. That is why we’ve come prepared.”


And with the snap of her finger, the ring locking Cassandra’s cage began to shrink. The ox keeled over, fingers desperately slipping through the ring to try and keep it still. But the magic was strong, risking turning the ox into a eunuch until Talia snapped her fingers yet again, instantly alleviating the size and the pain.


“Have I made my power clear?” Talia asked. Cassandra swore on her legacy, then pleaded for when the pantheress readied herself for another snap.


Despite the cage’s enchantment, Talia did not work without caution. She only allowed Cassandra to move while bound, ensuring each step either dragged drains along the ground or was too taut to do so. Under threat of punishment Cass allowed the pantheress to lock her arms behind her and bind her legs tight by ropes.


“So fat,” The pantheress cupped her prisoner’s breasts, “You have the envy of both men and women. It’s a shame you ruin it by being a muscle-bound fool.”


“My body is trained for duty.”


“I’m sure the princess-consort enjoys your nightly duties.”


Cass’s growl turned to squeals when Talia twisted a nipple. She then unfurled a bundle of rope, tossing one end over a hoop over the ox’s head. Slowly she looped it around a singular tit, then the other until they were bound breasts pushed out.


Then she pulled the other end. Cass grunted through grit teeth as her body weight strained against the ties of her breasts. Every sway off balance became another torment fueling her tirade of swears.


“That’s enough of that,” Talia said, stuffing a ball of rolled leather into the ox’s maw, with straps so tight they bit into her head. It muffled her cries as the panteress kneeled to cup and squeeze her balls, yanking them out just enough for a noose to tighten around them.


She returned to the pulley, yanking with heaving breaths silenced by the ox’s gagged cries. The higher Cass went, the tighter the loop became around her balls as well as her heavier strain from her weight.


When Talia finished Cass stood at the tips of her toes, doing all she could to alleviate the pressure on his tits. The pantheress circled her, admiring her work and smiling at the hatred Cassandra beamed when she could.


“Comfy?” She teased. Cassandra huffed in agony. “Good.”


She leaned into Cass, using the rope as support. “When you became a guard, you swore an oath. Your body is in service to the crown. So long as you did your duty, you were given autonomy and more. But having betrayed that, having broken your oath, you have given up any right to your autonomy.”


Sharp claws danced along Cass’s chest, almost hard enough to cut. “This body isn’t yours anymore. It belongs to the royal family, specifically the queen and all she allows to use it. Be thankful you are still useful in that regard.”


She pulled Cass’s head back by her hair and spat in her face. Cass reeled in anger, immediately regretting challenging her careful balance. Talia slapped her face for good measure. “You are not a soldier anymore, you are a slave. In time you will learn to accept this, to graciously take what is given, be it my spit or my mistress’s rod. Now, normally I’d lie and say I’d get no satisfaction out of this. That this is just my duty under the queen. I’m sure you understand, unlike your lover.”


By both horns Talia pulled Cass close, her whisper speaking with the cold rage of violence before action, “She dares to look down on me for being a whore when she has you bed her beck and call? The damned hypocrite.”


The fear of what would come next snuffed Cassandra’s rage. Talia slipped out of view, just enough that it hurt too much to twist around to follow. Her heels clicked across the stone floor, each echoing a resounding smack against the ox’s heart.


Then came the strike. The air screamed before something cracked at her thigh. Cass winced into her gag and tried to inch away. The second strike came just under the first. Then the third. The fourth hit the first spot again. Sharp smacks that refused to cut skin, leaving red marks underneath her fur.


They went to the left next, then her backside. Every shiver and shake from the impact added strain to the ropes. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her gag muzzled any attempts to plead for mercy.


All she could do was imagine the implementation of torture. She swore there were spikes on it. Maybe it was lined with teeth to bite into her flesh. She considered it a whip but there was no snap in the air, just a whooshing cry of parted wind.


She finally saw the tool of torture when Talia circled to her front. It was nothing more than a thin wooden rod, something Cassandra could snap over her knee. Talia licked her lips, hefting one of the bound breasts. Pressure surged through Cassandra’s tit. She shook her head, begging, but the pantheress’s smile showed sharp teeth.


One strike was all it took to make her regret everything. Talia didn’t stop at one. She caned the bound tit until its reddened flesh was covered in red lines, then she did the same to the other. By then Cassandra tried to keep still and push the agony out of her mind, but she had neither the training nor the discipline to succeed. All she could do was pray her ropes would fray.


Her knee slammed Cassandra’s balls. The ox gnawed at her gag, unable to keel over from the throbbing pain. “Do you want to know a secret?” Talia whispered, lining up her next strike. Cassandra did not answer, so could barely make out her words as is, “The queen considered castrating you when she discovered your actions. Both the princess, my princess, and I considered that…” she struck again, sending the dull aching shock reverberating through Cassandra’s form. “Excessive.


“While making you a eunuch is fitting, we both knew that your balls are much more valuable in keeping you in line. So you better thank me.” She struck again. “And I’m not hearing it.”  


Desperate for her to stop, Cassandra pleaded her gratitude behind the gag. Talia’s ears perked, leaning in to hear her. “Hmm…I can’t quite make it out. You must not be trying hard enough. Let me help you with that.”


Three more strikes across her reddened ass was all it took for Cassandra to give in. Any illusion she had of surviving torture fell apart as Talia unstrapped her gag and a flood of appreciation came through the broken dam of her resolve. The pantheress bit her lip as she listened, eager to hear more. Cass’s voice broke long before the pantheress told her to stop.


If she could have chosen to stay bound instead of facing the pain of loosening ties, Cassandra would have. But she had no choice and Talia was determined to beat that into her. At the end of her first session, the ox could scarcely hold herself up, doing so out of fear of what may happen if her tormentor needed to drag her back to the cell.


“Drink,” Talia tossed a wineskin filled with water over the collapsed ox, then shut the cell door with a clang followed by a locking click. “Present yourself properly when I next return.”


The water was lukewarm when she decided to drink it. Maybe it always was. Without the light of torches, she had to be careful feeling around for it, careful not to spill it over her as she greedily gulped it down. She hissed pain at each movement, her chains still clattering against the stone floor. Soon it became her only way of knowing she was alive.


Talia arrived at random. Cassandra had no notion of time without a window, and the torments she suffered made it impossible to focus on how long her pauses were. She tried to count the seconds but the fruitless endeavor did more harm to her psyche than good. One thing was clear, the ox was not getting the sleep she wanted. If not from the visits, then the strange sensation coaxing her cage.


It shook. It was quiet, so much the ox thought she was going insane, but the vibration was there. Despite its trappings, her cock tried to erect itself with the sensation. Her breath was short, her chest warm, and her nipples tight. It grew stronger after every session, until Cass could do little but writhe after fruitless attempts to shut it off. It only stopped just as she was about to slip over the edge. Eventually, she whined for it to not.


By the fourth, maybe fifth, visit Cassandra assumed the position when footsteps approached. She kneeled with her legs open, head down, and chest forward with her arms behind her back. Talia’s praise should have infuriated her, but they came as a relief. Even as the torments continued she sensed Talia was pleased, and her mistress’s pleasure in turn pleasured her.


Then she swore to herself, snapping back that there was no joy in being her prisoner.


The next visit rewarded her with a thick brass nose ring that served as an anchoring point for a leather mask over her face. “Does a slave need to see?” Talia asked when she finished the task.


“Only if its owner wishes for it,” Cassandra said. She vocally referred to herself as an it now, an object, a thing. She fought hard to keep her internal thoughts secure, or else the conditioning would seep in like a poison, but that was doing its work. Talia was breaking her. Even the strongest stones shatter in time.


On the seventh visit, another set of footsteps followed her trainer. At first, Cass assumed it was the queen and considered defying in some way, but she’d been in her waiting stance as soon as she heard the sounds.


A playful voice spoke first when they entered the room. “You can’t have all the fun,”


“It is a balance,” Talia said, “I needed to be sure it was ready before letting you assist me.”


Gods, she knew that voice. Cass stifled her gulp and clenched her fists, softening them once the voices were closer. There was no denying that haughty yet spoiled tone, the inexperienced mirror of the current queen. Princess Vivian, the royal brat.


The cell doors opened with a clang. “I told you it would look good,” Vivian said, stepping in to loop a finger around Cassandra’s thick brass nose ring. She pulled enough to test it, chastising the ox when she tried to stand. “Doesn’t it look more fitting? Like a feral cattle bred with one purpose in mind.”


The insult empowered the sensation of her cage. Cass bit back her moan, refusing to give into the feedback loop of degradation to pleasure. The fox’s playful laughter bounced off the walls.


“Of course, princess. Your creativity knows no bounds.”


“Oh, Talia, you always know just what to say.”


Something pushed Cass forward down until her lips met a bare foot. She kissed it without command, knowing damn well what they wanted. Talia had whipped it into her already.


“Happy to see this thing knows its place,” Vivian said.


Cass swallowed her rage. “It appreciates your validation,” she said.


Talia’s claws pressed against the ox’s back, “It was not permitted to speak.”


They have pierced her skin if Vivian had not made a tsking noise with what was no doubt a shake of her head, “Talia, don’t be so harsh. It is doing its best to make me happy and everyone knows how much I like sycophants, as blind as they may be. In fact, why don’t we give it a chance?”


At the snap of Vivian’s fingers Talia pulled Cass up by her nose ring. They led the ox forward into darkness, forcing her back to her knees against the cold floor just outside her cage. Wood scraped against stone. A chair. Vivian sat at it after a moment, the subtle sounds of her dress vanishing.


Then she smelled it. The wet and waiting scent of a cunt in desire. It was different from Helen’s, but not in a way she could explain it.


“My sources tell me Helen’s bodyguard makes her scream behind those walls. It better not disappoint me,” Vivian said, pulling Cass’s maw into her cunt.


Cassandra, unlike the men of this castle, did know how to use her tongue. But it was the knowledge of a novice. Helen liked it only as foreplay, easing her into the main course of her bodyguard’s fat rod. The way Vivian held her down, how her leg locked behind the ox’s head, told Cass this was not foreplay. So no matter her technique, how slow she went or how deep she pushed, the princess was dissatisfied. Audibly yawning like a child in a lesson.


“Is this it?” Vivian complained. Cass’s cage buzzed. “Is Helen so easily pleased by your cock that you do not know how to please a woman? Clearly, I have overestimated you both.”


She pushed Cass off and snapped her fingers. Within seconds a new sound slipped at her thighs. A black figure, one who greedily yet carefully eased herself into the princess’s pleasure.


Talia. Cassandra struggled to believe what unfolded before her eyes. Talia, the queen’s top torturer, Vivian’s lady-in-waiting, was servicing the princess intimately without hesitation. Worse still, Vivian eased into it as if expecting it, and from her soft breaths and moans, she was experiencing this sort of pleasure.


Talia was sleeping with the princess. Of all the hypocrisy. Cass grit her teeth and surged forward. Vivian snapped her fingers, tightening the ox’s cage to make her keel over in open-mouth pain.


“Be a good toy and wait until you are needed,” Vivian commanded, releasing the ring’s magic when Cass returned to the kneeling position. The ox watched the princess clasp the pantheress’s scalp. Not rough like a servant doing a poor job, but gently like a lover’s caress. By the gods, they were just sleeping together. They dared to punish her, enslave Cassandra, for the same thing. How dare there? How dare they!


Her resentment lingered well past the session. Vivian joined them regularly, or at least as often as she could. Cassandra’s torments seemed to serve more as foreplay for the two than repentance for her misdeeds, not that the ox could argue against it. It was smarter to obey, to remain loyal for Helen’s sake.


Maybe Talia understood Cassandra’s realization and went easier on her. The pantheress still struck with marks and punished the ox’s mistakes, but there was a more merciful air to her now. The gifts were subtle; extra water, a few extra seconds to adjust from a grievous sting, a disapproving tone on her oral technique instead of a whip snap.


Though Vivian might have taken the sadism. Whenever the fox joined in she took delight in making the ox wince. Her balls were an especially valued target, acting as the fox’s stress reliever with kicks, knee strikes, and squeezing. Somehow she knew just when to stop, bringing Cassandra to the edge of breaking every time. She’d move onto Cassandra’s tits after.


The runes of her cage kept her aroused. She felt it when collapsing from exhaustion. She felt it waking up. Her cock braced the cage’s walls in a fruitless endeavor to escape. Their pain turned to her pleasure, and her gratitude became less of an act. Worse still, she grew jealous of the pair enjoying themselves when they were done with her. Even upon the revelation that Vivian enjoyed servicing Talia as much as Talia did her, all Cassandra could think about was her inability to cum. Strangely the intimate moments of her torturers never came up when the queen visited to watch, but Queen Marian rarely stayed for long.


Cassandra assumed the position at the sound of footsteps, not knowing if they were coming her way or simply passing her room by. She got better at counting how many were there. Today she counted two, no, three. Her ears perked up at a fourth set of footsteps, skittish and scared as if pushed along. A new prisoner? She brushed that thought aside when her cell door opened, and bowed her hooded head to the stranger brought by her owners.", "pools_count": 1, "title": "Broken Duty Prequel (commission)", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "232" }