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Her little buneary princess, Myrcella, has snuck out of the castle and gone and got herself good and drunk. Unfortunately for her, she's picked up by the city guard when she started singing in front of the church. Not knowing who she is, they toss her in the city jail to sleep it off. But she wants... some more...\n\nMyrcella and Zephyr are owned by [iconname]ChainedInnocence[/iconname]\n\n- - - - - \n\nWhat's this? A story where no one gets messed up? I know, right!? This was a fun one to write. Like, actually fun. It was a nice palate cleanser from all of the dark that I've been putting out. Something a lot more happy and a little silly. I should do more of these in the future.\n\nOh, and while there's a cub warning, no actual sex or even nudity in this. Just a little light footplay and bondage. Actually, probably the second most footplay I've ever put into a story, just behind the time I spent 500 words describing a foot massage. Not really my thing, so... there you go.\n\n- - - - -\n\nA massive thank you to my top tier subscribers:\n[fa]smeshnoymem[/fa]\n\nIf you would like early access to stories, monthly commission raffles, and other bonus content, \nplease consider subscribing to my [url=https://subscribestar.adult/xp_author]SubscribeStar[/url]", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Just to prove that I CAN in fact write lighthearted stories, I was quite happy to take a commission by \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tChainedInnocence\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tChainedInnocence\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
. Her little buneary princess, Myrcella, has snuck out of the castle and gone and got herself good and drunk. Unfortunately for her, she's picked up by the city guard when she started singing in front of the church. Not knowing who she is, they toss her in the city jail to sleep it off. But she wants... some more...

Myrcella and Zephyr are owned by \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tChainedInnocence\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tChainedInnocence\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t


- - - - -

What's this? A story where no one gets messed up? I know, right!? This was a fun one to write. Like, actually fun. It was a nice palate cleanser from all of the dark that I've been putting out. Something a lot more happy and a little silly. I should do more of these in the future.

Oh, and while there's a cub warning, no actual sex or even nudity in this. Just a little light footplay and bondage. Actually, probably the second most footplay I've ever put into a story, just behind the time I spent 500 words describing a foot massage. Not really my thing, so... there you go.

- - - - -

A massive thank you to my top tier subscribers:
\n\t\t\t\t\tsmeshnoymem

If you would like early access to stories, monthly commission raffles, and other bonus content,
please consider subscribing to my SubscribeStar", "writing": "[center][b][u]Coffee Break Commission[/u][/b][/center]\n[center][b]The Princess' Secret[/b][/center]\n[center]By XP Author[/center]\n\n\"Alright, little miss. In you get.\" The guard gently urged the barefoot buneary girl forward into the jail cell with a gentle push to her back. She stumbled a little bit, but more from her drunken state than his touch. He had no intention of hurting the girl, and other than some off key singing on the way here, she had not made much of a fuss. \"Go on now.\" The girl was Myrcella, 12 year old princess of the kingdom. Of course, the guard would have no way of knowing this. She had lived a fairly sheltered life, with few in the city having ever seen her in. The arcanine urging her forward was just a city guard, not one for the royal palace. Plus, who would believe a drunk, dirty girl in equally dirty and tattered rags for clothes was actually the princess. It was not like there weren't other vagrant buneary girls on the streets.\n\nThis was not her first time sneaking out of the castle, though. She knew of a secret passageway through the kitchens. She liked to experience what life was like outside of the pomp and royal airs of the palace. This was just the first time she had managed to convince someone to get her some rum. She had worried that the salty old dewott sailor was going to end up taking advantage of her, but he just laughed as she took her first swig and started to cough. He had remarked that she reminded him of his own daughter. The sailor was hoping that she would have a bad but otherwise harmless experience and be put off the stuff for a while, though the princess did not know that part.\n\nUnfortunately, she was not put off, and ended up downing half the bottle. Being as small and young as she was, she proved to be quite the light weight, and was now good and definitively drunk. The guard had been called when she was standing outside the church after dark, singing lewd limericks she had heard the sailors singing on the docks. She had put up a token resistance, but the guard was easily able to drag the drunken young girl off without having to physically carry her.\n\nMyrcella looked around the jail cell she was being pushed into. It was small but not exactly cramped. Three of the four walls were stone, with the last being iron bars with a swinging door. There was a cot for her to sleep on, a chamber pot that was mercifully empty, and several loops on the walls where chains and shackles could be attached. There were no shackles hanging there right now. She felt kind of upset about that. If she was going to do the whole 'night in the dungeon' sort of thing, she kind of wanted the whole package.\n\n\"Alright now.\" The guard cleared his throat. \"My name is Jones. You got a name, little one?\"\n\nShe turned around quickly, almost losing her balance in the process. \"Huh? It's My- uh... Mi... Missy! Mi'name's Missy!\" She tried (and failed) to put on a less educated sounding accent.\n\nHe just chuckled a little. \"Okay, Missy. Do you have any family? Someone I should call to collect you?\"\n\nShe shook her head, looking around as if she was just waiting for a friend to show up. \"Mmmm... nope!\"\n\n\"Alright then, Missy.\" He suspected she was probably a merchant's daughter, starting her rebellious phase early. Not the first time he had seen a well-to-do young girl play at being a street kid for the kicks. Jones was just glad he had picked her up before anything bad happened to her. \"You can spend the night here.\" He nodded to the cot beside her. \"Not the most comfortable, but get some rest. Try to sleep it off.\"\n\nJones turned and took only one step before she asked a question that halted him entirely. \"You're not going to shackle me?\"\n\nHe turned slowly to look at her. \"No... we don't usually... 'shackle' people for public drunkenness... unless they're violent.\" He put his hands on his hips. \"You're not planning on becoming violent, are you?\"\n\n'Missy' shook her head. \"No. But... I mean... if I'm going to be in the dungeon all night, then... I should be shackled, right?\"\n\nHe just stared at her for a moment. She was a very strange young girl, for sure. \"This is just the city jail, not the dungeons. We don't-\"\n\n\"Please?\" She interrupted, giving him a wide-eyed, puppy dog stare.\n\nHe just looked into those big, blue eyes, then could not help but laugh softly. \"Well, if that's what you want...\" He figured there was no harm in humoring her. He moved over to a wall that had several sets of cuffs hanging from hooks. He was about to grab one of the normal metal cuffs when he hesitated. Instead, he took an older wooden stockade block. They were smaller than most of the cuffs, and not quite as heavy. When he walked back to the cell and unlocked the door, he held up the block. He was a little surprised to see her look almost excited by it. He had not expected someone so young to be so kinky, but alcohol had a way of loosening people in ways even they did not expect themselves.\n\nHe nodded to the cot. \"Sit up on that, stick your feet out.\" She nodded, quickly hopping up onto the cot and extending her legs. She even wiggled her bare toes a little at him. He shook his head a little as he crouched down in front of her. He opened the block, slipping her ankles into the two grooves, then closed it again. He clicked the latch in place and made sure it was locked tight. \"Not too tight?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"N-no... it's... fine.\" She felt herself blush a little, wiggling her legs. Sure enough, they were held fast. It was quite exciting, being bound like this, even if only a little. \"A-are you... going to torture me, too?\" She sounded expectant, not afraid.\n\nJones took a deep breath, letting it out as a soft sigh. They did not torture people in jail, especially for just being drunk. He then smirked to himself. \"Only like this.\" He slid his finger along the bottom of her bare feet, his touch light enough that it tickled. She yelped and started to squirm instantly. He ran his touch back down again, watching her toes wiggle as she squirmed. \"This is the kind of torture bad little girls who get drunk at night and sing dirty songs get.\"\n\nShe started to squirm even more, letting out soft squeaks and timid whimpers when he continued. He traced a claw very gently around the furless pads on her feet. He started with the biggest pad, then circled each one individually. He moved to the other foot, doing the same, tracing around each pad to make her squirm and wiggle. Then he heard a soft moan from her, and that sound gave him pause. He pulled his finger away. Instead, he gently smacked the bottom of each foot with the back of his hand. \"That's enough.\"\n\nJones quickly stood up, and just as quickly exited the cell. \"Lay down and sleep it off.\" He closed the door, taking several deep breaths to keep his voice calm and even. \"I'll be back in the morning. Call if you need something.\" He then turned and made a hasty exit to the front of the jail. He shook his head, silently berating himself for teasing a girl so young like that. If he was caught, he would be lucky if all he lost was his job. It was a good way to wind up in one of those cells himself... or worse.\n\nMyrcella watched him leave, feeling her heart beating quick in her chest. She looked back down at the wood binding her feet together. That had been very fun, and she wished he had not stopped. She had thought to beg him to keep going, to touch her more... but even in her current state, she could tell he got very suddenly uncomfortable and flustered. She smiled, actually finding it kind of cute. She might need to remember him when she got home in the morning, see about having him 'torture' her more.\n\nFor now, she turned aid laid down on the cot. With the way her feet were bound, she had to lay on her back. Even as exciting as it was to be 'shackled' like this, fatigue quickly started to overcome her as her excitement wore off. Within 10 minutes, the young girl was sound asleep.\n\n[center]* * *[/center]\n\n\"Rise and shine, little one!\" The loud voice of Jones pierced through her. Her head throbbed and ached, and it felt like her mouth was full of fuzzy sand.\n\nShe groaned as she was forced out of the bliss of sleep. \"It can't be morning already...\" Her voice was almost gravely to her ears. When she tried to open her eyes, she winced as the daylight pouring in through the barred windows outside the cell nearly blinded her. \"Ugh... can you turn the sun off?\"\n\nJones laughed softly. \"No can do, Missy. Naught control the sun but the gods.\" He opened the cell door and stepped inside. Before she even knew what he was doing, he had grabbed the wooden block on her ankles and forced her to turn. He unlocked the block and set it aside. \"C'mon, up. It's time to get you out of this cell.\" The way the young buneary groaned again as she was forced to get to her feet, he could tell she was suffering one hell of a hangover. Probably her first. Normally, he would consider that punishment enough by itself, but... he had been given a very strange order for this girl... by someone he could not really question.\n\nShe looked up at him as he pushed her forward. \"So... what now? Am I free to go?\" She planned to find a nice hidden place in the shade and go back to sleep for a few hours.\n\nThe guard shook his head. \"Normally, yes. But... someone has decided that you require some additional punishment.\"\n\nShe gave him a look, not resisting as he led her to the front. \"Who?\"\n\nHe shook his head again. \"Not my place to say. But, you probably offended them with your songs in front of the church.\" She wondered why he thought that, but the sunlight nearly binding her the moment she was outside evaporated the question for now. He held her arm near the shoulder tight as he led her, not painfully, but enough that she could not get away. As they walked through the market, several people were staring, and she heard the whispered questions of what was going on. That made her a little embarrassed.\n\nEmbarrassment shifted to a trepidation as he led her past the market, toward the city wall. \"Where... are we going?\" Was she going to be thrown out of the city? That would be a problem. She would be forced to reveal just who she was if that was the case, and that would cause quite the scandal at the palace.\n\n\"We're going right there.\" He nodded to a small crowd gathered around the small pond right on the inner side of the wall. A large wooden machine had been assembled at the edge of the water. It was an old thing, with a seat at one end. It used to be used to 'test for witches' by dunking them into the water. If they did not drown, then they were a witch. If they did drown, then they were still probably a witch, but either not powerful or 'purified.' Thankfully that practice was long out of fashion. Nowadays it was mostly used to dunk prisoners for interrogation... or as a kind of prank for soldiers found drunk in the barracks.\n\nOnce they arrived, Jones did not wait for her to even say anything. He just grabbed her by the hips and hefted her up onto the seat. \"Sit there, and do not squirm.\" He moved behind her, speaking softly so only she could hear. \"You'll get your wish after all.\" Despite the jovial tone, something in his voice had her on edge. Her hands were behind her back, bound by metal shackles to the chair to keep her in place. Another set was on her ankles, keeping her firmly in place.\n\nShe looked around, her heart racing more than a little. The crowd were all staring, several already giggling a little at her. \"W-what's... what's g-going on...?\"\n\nJones nodded, and two other guards pushed the machine so the seat was hovering just over the water. \"Missy, you have been charged with public drunkenness, and blasphemy on holy ground. For that, you shall be punished...\" he held the moment, letting her squirm a little more. \"…with a bath!\" He released a lever, and the seat dropped. Myrcella cried out, only for her cries to be covered by a loud splash. She was suddenly fully underwater. She could hear almost nothing, just the sound of the water, and a very muffled clinking of the chains holding her in place. The water itself was very cold, and very murky, as the pond had no flow.\n\nShe struggled, but there was no way she could break free. She had not really had a chance to fill her lungs before being dropped under, and already they burned to be filled. In her sudden panic, she had no concept of time, and what felt like minutes was only several seconds. Just as suddenly as she had been dunked, she was raised back up. She gasped, coughing and spitting out the stagnant water. She heard laughter of those watching, including Jones.\n\nJones looked around. \"Think that sobered her up, or should she go for another dip?\" The crowd almost unanimously shouted 'Another!'\n\nShe braced herself. \"Ah crap...\" She muttered, but at least this time she managed to get a deep breath before she was plunged under the surface again. She still had to admit, in other circumstances, this might actually be kind of fun. She was certainly not opposed to being locked in place like this. It was just the pond water itself that was the biggest problem. Soon enough, she was raised back up again. She coughed a little less this time, but she still spat out some of the water. It tasted foul.\n\nJones looked at the crowd again. \"One more?\"\n\nBefore anyone could reply, a gruff female voice sounded loud and clear. \"I think she's had enough now.\" That voice had her tense up immediately, her eyes going wide. NOW she was in trouble. \"She should be sober enough. Go ahead and get her down.\" Jones nodded, and the guards turned the machine again so she could be released from her shackles. Her clothing was soaked through, as was her fur. It all clung to her tight and hung oddly on her skinny body.\n\nJones pat the girl on the head. \"Dunno what you done, little one, but best say you're sorry to the lady.\" He then looked up. \"Good and... well, mostly clean, like you said. She's all yours, ma'am.\"\n\nShe turned to see who she knew she would see. Tall and well built was her red and white furred zangoose bodyguard, Zephyr. She gulped as she looked up at the woman. Zephyr just gave her a stern look, despite the smile on her face. The woman leaned closer, so only she could hear. \"You have two choices now. You can tell them who you really are and walk home on your own... to face your father and deal with the scandal it will cause. Or... you can come with me and deal with just me. Your choice.\"\n\nShe knew she was in for it, either way. So she just nodded slowly. \"I-I'll go with you...\"\n\n\"Good girl.\" Zephyr stood back up and smiled to Jones. \"Thank you. I'll take her from here. I'll be sure to return her where she belongs.\" She then put a hand on the young buneary's back and shoved her forward. Zephyr was technically not part of any branch of the army or the guard, but she still commanded respect from both due to her position. It was not uncommon for her to be called in by the guard when certain people were unruly in town. Her mere presence tended to make most calm down, not wanting to tussle with the warrior hand picked by the king to guard the princess.\n\nOnce the two were out of earshot of anyone else, Myrcella spoke up. \"How did you find me?\"\n\nThe zangoose rolled her eyes. \"Oh please. I've known about your secret little walks about town for a while.\" She heard the princess squeak. \"It's good for you to know what it is you'll eventually be ruling, but I am still responsible for your safety. I've been keeping an eye on you every time you snuck out.\" She chuckled a little then. \"I also figured sleeping off a drunken stupor in the jail was better than trying to explain a hangover to your father in the morning.\"\n\nShe nodded slowly. \"Y-yeah... Um... th-thank you.\"\n\nZephyr grunted. \"Oh, don't thank me yet, dear heart. I'll be running you through some paces later.\" She heard the young girl groan. \"None of that. It's your own fault.\" She smirked a little. \"Besides, if you want to just have a walk about the town, just talk to me.\"\n\nThe soggy princess nodded. \"Okay...\"\n\nShe smirked a little more, leaning in to whisper into the girl's ear. \"And if you just want to experiment a little with that bondage fetish of yours...\" She heard the girl squeak, seeing the blush. \"Well... I can show you a few things.\" She winked to the young girl. The two laughed as they walked back towards the hidden passage back into the palace, though Mycella still could not get rid of her blush, or help but feel excited by the offer. She would DEFINITELY be taking her up on it soon.\n\n[center]* * *[/center]", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Coffee Break Commission

The Princess' Secret

By XP Author


"Alright, little miss. In you get." The guard gently urged the barefoot buneary girl forward into the jail cell with a gentle push to her back. She stumbled a little bit, but more from her drunken state than his touch. He had no intention of hurting the girl, and other than some off key singing on the way here, she had not made much of a fuss. "Go on now." The girl was Myrcella, 12 year old princess of the kingdom. Of course, the guard would have no way of knowing this. She had lived a fairly sheltered life, with few in the city having ever seen her in. The arcanine urging her forward was just a city guard, not one for the royal palace. Plus, who would believe a drunk, dirty girl in equally dirty and tattered rags for clothes was actually the princess. It was not like there weren't other vagrant buneary girls on the streets.

This was not her first time sneaking out of the castle, though. She knew of a secret passageway through the kitchens. She liked to experience what life was like outside of the pomp and royal airs of the palace. This was just the first time she had managed to convince someone to get her some rum. She had worried that the salty old dewott sailor was going to end up taking advantage of her, but he just laughed as she took her first swig and started to cough. He had remarked that she reminded him of his own daughter. The sailor was hoping that she would have a bad but otherwise harmless experience and be put off the stuff for a while, though the princess did not know that part.

Unfortunately, she was not put off, and ended up downing half the bottle. Being as small and young as she was, she proved to be quite the light weight, and was now good and definitively drunk. The guard had been called when she was standing outside the church after dark, singing lewd limericks she had heard the sailors singing on the docks. She had put up a token resistance, but the guard was easily able to drag the drunken young girl off without having to physically carry her.

Myrcella looked around the jail cell she was being pushed into. It was small but not exactly cramped. Three of the four walls were stone, with the last being iron bars with a swinging door. There was a cot for her to sleep on, a chamber pot that was mercifully empty, and several loops on the walls where chains and shackles could be attached. There were no shackles hanging there right now. She felt kind of upset about that. If she was going to do the whole 'night in the dungeon' sort of thing, she kind of wanted the whole package.

"Alright now." The guard cleared his throat. "My name is Jones. You got a name, little one?"

She turned around quickly, almost losing her balance in the process. "Huh? It's My- uh... Mi... Missy! Mi'name's Missy!" She tried (and failed) to put on a less educated sounding accent.

He just chuckled a little. "Okay, Missy. Do you have any family? Someone I should call to collect you?"

She shook her head, looking around as if she was just waiting for a friend to show up. "Mmmm... nope!"

"Alright then, Missy." He suspected she was probably a merchant's daughter, starting her rebellious phase early. Not the first time he had seen a well-to-do young girl play at being a street kid for the kicks. Jones was just glad he had picked her up before anything bad happened to her. "You can spend the night here." He nodded to the cot beside her. "Not the most comfortable, but get some rest. Try to sleep it off."

Jones turned and took only one step before she asked a question that halted him entirely. "You're not going to shackle me?"

He turned slowly to look at her. "No... we don't usually... 'shackle' people for public drunkenness... unless they're violent." He put his hands on his hips. "You're not planning on becoming violent, are you?"

'Missy' shook her head. "No. But... I mean... if I'm going to be in the dungeon all night, then... I should be shackled, right?"

He just stared at her for a moment. She was a very strange young girl, for sure. "This is just the city jail, not the dungeons. We don't-"

"Please?" She interrupted, giving him a wide-eyed, puppy dog stare.

He just looked into those big, blue eyes, then could not help but laugh softly. "Well, if that's what you want..." He figured there was no harm in humoring her. He moved over to a wall that had several sets of cuffs hanging from hooks. He was about to grab one of the normal metal cuffs when he hesitated. Instead, he took an older wooden stockade block. They were smaller than most of the cuffs, and not quite as heavy. When he walked back to the cell and unlocked the door, he held up the block. He was a little surprised to see her look almost excited by it. He had not expected someone so young to be so kinky, but alcohol had a way of loosening people in ways even they did not expect themselves.

He nodded to the cot. "Sit up on that, stick your feet out." She nodded, quickly hopping up onto the cot and extending her legs. She even wiggled her bare toes a little at him. He shook his head a little as he crouched down in front of her. He opened the block, slipping her ankles into the two grooves, then closed it again. He clicked the latch in place and made sure it was locked tight. "Not too tight?"

She shook her head. "N-no... it's... fine." She felt herself blush a little, wiggling her legs. Sure enough, they were held fast. It was quite exciting, being bound like this, even if only a little. "A-are you... going to torture me, too?" She sounded expectant, not afraid.

Jones took a deep breath, letting it out as a soft sigh. They did not torture people in jail, especially for just being drunk. He then smirked to himself. "Only like this." He slid his finger along the bottom of her bare feet, his touch light enough that it tickled. She yelped and started to squirm instantly. He ran his touch back down again, watching her toes wiggle as she squirmed. "This is the kind of torture bad little girls who get drunk at night and sing dirty songs get."

She started to squirm even more, letting out soft squeaks and timid whimpers when he continued. He traced a claw very gently around the furless pads on her feet. He started with the biggest pad, then circled each one individually. He moved to the other foot, doing the same, tracing around each pad to make her squirm and wiggle. Then he heard a soft moan from her, and that sound gave him pause. He pulled his finger away. Instead, he gently smacked the bottom of each foot with the back of his hand. "That's enough."

Jones quickly stood up, and just as quickly exited the cell. "Lay down and sleep it off." He closed the door, taking several deep breaths to keep his voice calm and even. "I'll be back in the morning. Call if you need something." He then turned and made a hasty exit to the front of the jail. He shook his head, silently berating himself for teasing a girl so young like that. If he was caught, he would be lucky if all he lost was his job. It was a good way to wind up in one of those cells himself... or worse.

Myrcella watched him leave, feeling her heart beating quick in her chest. She looked back down at the wood binding her feet together. That had been very fun, and she wished he had not stopped. She had thought to beg him to keep going, to touch her more... but even in her current state, she could tell he got very suddenly uncomfortable and flustered. She smiled, actually finding it kind of cute. She might need to remember him when she got home in the morning, see about having him 'torture' her more.

For now, she turned aid laid down on the cot. With the way her feet were bound, she had to lay on her back. Even as exciting as it was to be 'shackled' like this, fatigue quickly started to overcome her as her excitement wore off. Within 10 minutes, the young girl was sound asleep.

*     *     *


"Rise and shine, little one!" The loud voice of Jones pierced through her. Her head throbbed and ached, and it felt like her mouth was full of fuzzy sand.

She groaned as she was forced out of the bliss of sleep. "It can't be morning already..." Her voice was almost gravely to her ears. When she tried to open her eyes, she winced as the daylight pouring in through the barred windows outside the cell nearly blinded her. "Ugh... can you turn the sun off?"

Jones laughed softly. "No can do, Missy. Naught control the sun but the gods." He opened the cell door and stepped inside. Before she even knew what he was doing, he had grabbed the wooden block on her ankles and forced her to turn. He unlocked the block and set it aside. "C'mon, up. It's time to get you out of this cell." The way the young buneary groaned again as she was forced to get to her feet, he could tell she was suffering one hell of a hangover. Probably her first. Normally, he would consider that punishment enough by itself, but... he had been given a very strange order for this girl... by someone he could not really question.

She looked up at him as he pushed her forward. "So... what now? Am I free to go?" She planned to find a nice hidden place in the shade and go back to sleep for a few hours.

The guard shook his head. "Normally, yes. But... someone has decided that you require some additional punishment."

She gave him a look, not resisting as he led her to the front. "Who?"

He shook his head again. "Not my place to say. But, you probably offended them with your songs in front of the church." She wondered why he thought that, but the sunlight nearly binding her the moment she was outside evaporated the question for now. He held her arm near the shoulder tight as he led her, not painfully, but enough that she could not get away. As they walked through the market, several people were staring, and she heard the whispered questions of what was going on. That made her a little embarrassed.

Embarrassment shifted to a trepidation as he led her past the market, toward the city wall. "Where... are we going?" Was she going to be thrown out of the city? That would be a problem. She would be forced to reveal just who she was if that was the case, and that would cause quite the scandal at the palace.

"We're going right there." He nodded to a small crowd gathered around the small pond right on the inner side of the wall. A large wooden machine had been assembled at the edge of the water. It was an old thing, with a seat at one end. It used to be used to 'test for witches' by dunking them into the water. If they did not drown, then they were a witch. If they did drown, then they were still probably a witch, but either not powerful or 'purified.' Thankfully that practice was long out of fashion. Nowadays it was mostly used to dunk prisoners for interrogation... or as a kind of prank for soldiers found drunk in the barracks.

Once they arrived, Jones did not wait for her to even say anything. He just grabbed her by the hips and hefted her up onto the seat. "Sit there, and do not squirm." He moved behind her, speaking softly so only she could hear. "You'll get your wish after all." Despite the jovial tone, something in his voice had her on edge. Her hands were behind her back, bound by metal shackles to the chair to keep her in place. Another set was on her ankles, keeping her firmly in place.

She looked around, her heart racing more than a little. The crowd were all staring, several already giggling a little at her. "W-what's... what's g-going on...?"

Jones nodded, and two other guards pushed the machine so the seat was hovering just over the water. "Missy, you have been charged with public drunkenness, and blasphemy on holy ground. For that, you shall be punished..." he held the moment, letting her squirm a little more. "…with a bath!" He released a lever, and the seat dropped. Myrcella cried out, only for her cries to be covered by a loud splash. She was suddenly fully underwater. She could hear almost nothing, just the sound of the water, and a very muffled clinking of the chains holding her in place. The water itself was very cold, and very murky, as the pond had no flow.

She struggled, but there was no way she could break free. She had not really had a chance to fill her lungs before being dropped under, and already they burned to be filled. In her sudden panic, she had no concept of time, and what felt like minutes was only several seconds. Just as suddenly as she had been dunked, she was raised back up. She gasped, coughing and spitting out the stagnant water. She heard laughter of those watching, including Jones.

Jones looked around. "Think that sobered her up, or should she go for another dip?" The crowd almost unanimously shouted 'Another!'

She braced herself. "Ah crap..." She muttered, but at least this time she managed to get a deep breath before she was plunged under the surface again. She still had to admit, in other circumstances, this might actually be kind of fun. She was certainly not opposed to being locked in place like this. It was just the pond water itself that was the biggest problem. Soon enough, she was raised back up again. She coughed a little less this time, but she still spat out some of the water. It tasted foul.

Jones looked at the crowd again. "One more?"

Before anyone could reply, a gruff female voice sounded loud and clear. "I think she's had enough now." That voice had her tense up immediately, her eyes going wide. NOW she was in trouble. "She should be sober enough. Go ahead and get her down." Jones nodded, and the guards turned the machine again so she could be released from her shackles. Her clothing was soaked through, as was her fur. It all clung to her tight and hung oddly on her skinny body.

Jones pat the girl on the head. "Dunno what you done, little one, but best say you're sorry to the lady." He then looked up. "Good and... well, mostly clean, like you said. She's all yours, ma'am."

She turned to see who she knew she would see. Tall and well built was her red and white furred zangoose bodyguard, Zephyr. She gulped as she looked up at the woman. Zephyr just gave her a stern look, despite the smile on her face. The woman leaned closer, so only she could hear. "You have two choices now. You can tell them who you really are and walk home on your own... to face your father and deal with the scandal it will cause. Or... you can come with me and deal with just me. Your choice."

She knew she was in for it, either way. So she just nodded slowly. "I-I'll go with you..."

"Good girl." Zephyr stood back up and smiled to Jones. "Thank you. I'll take her from here. I'll be sure to return her where she belongs." She then put a hand on the young buneary's back and shoved her forward. Zephyr was technically not part of any branch of the army or the guard, but she still commanded respect from both due to her position. It was not uncommon for her to be called in by the guard when certain people were unruly in town. Her mere presence tended to make most calm down, not wanting to tussle with the warrior hand picked by the king to guard the princess.

Once the two were out of earshot of anyone else, Myrcella spoke up. "How did you find me?"

The zangoose rolled her eyes. "Oh please. I've known about your secret little walks about town for a while." She heard the princess squeak. "It's good for you to know what it is you'll eventually be ruling, but I am still responsible for your safety. I've been keeping an eye on you every time you snuck out." She chuckled a little then. "I also figured sleeping off a drunken stupor in the jail was better than trying to explain a hangover to your father in the morning."

She nodded slowly. "Y-yeah... Um... th-thank you."

Zephyr grunted. "Oh, don't thank me yet, dear heart. I'll be running you through some paces later." She heard the young girl groan. "None of that. It's your own fault." She smirked a little. "Besides, if you want to just have a walk about the town, just talk to me."

The soggy princess nodded. "Okay..."

She smirked a little more, leaning in to whisper into the girl's ear. "And if you just want to experiment a little with that bondage fetish of yours..." She heard the girl squeak, seeing the blush. "Well... I can show you a few things." She winked to the young girl. The two laughed as they walked back towards the hidden passage back into the palace, though Mycella still could not get rid of her blush, or help but feel excited by the offer. She would DEFINITELY be taking her up on it soon.

*     *     *
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