✦ 𝔄𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔱 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 ; 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔚𝔬𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰『ʙɪʀᴅɪᴇ x ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ』

[Chevalier]

ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ ʙʏ
ʙɪʀᴅɪᴇ + ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ

ɴsғᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ
警告

ᴛʜᴇ ʟʏᴄᴀɴ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

Prince Fenrisúlfr dè Ashen
The Accursed Prince of Wolves

Lord Casamir dè Emmeria
The Lord of Deceit

Lord Morganna dè Elyse
The Blood Witch

Lord Tristan dè Hexenjagd
The Kingdomslayer

Lord Allistar dè Reikland
The Lord of Chains

Lord Yama Shakeuchi
The Crimson Fox

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀᴇᴅ

Aurora Beaumont
Collared by Lord Casamir

“ ─ and so the Empire was felled, waves of heavenly destruction relentlessly wrought among the land. In their wrath, the Gods had authored their greatest tragedy,”
- Act III, The Fall of the Holy Aurelian Empire​

​

Within the land of shadows lay a realm where not even the sun dare rise. A once proud and prosperous human kingdom, long abandoned by the people that once inhabited it. For nearly three hundred years, the land had been devoid of life, a solemn ruin of the great Empire that once occupied it. Like many civilizations before it, its people had vanished, leaving only the crumbling ruins of castles and barren urban sprawls as the final vestiges of its splendid golden age. Yet, while most lands would eventually come to be resettled by a new generation, the northern lands would remain far abandoned, for natural life would never return to these lands. It is often believed that the Gods had abandoned these lands, their heavenly gaze never returning to allow the wastelands to fully recover.​

​

For many years, legends about how the northern wastelands came to be circulated through the tongue of the commonfolk; stories about the rise and fall of the civilization that once inhabited it. They recited tales about how these people had angered the Gods, even coming to use these lessons as a basis for a variety of religious texts. Fact became fiction, fiction became legend and legend became bedtime stories used to scare the children at night. Tales of monsters and demons pervaded their thoughts, folklore that nobody thought possible. ​

​

Yet, the monsters were more real than any could have possibly imagined.​

​

Descending from the northern mountains, a tide of monstrous beasts fell upon the surrounding kingdoms, laying waste to any city or kingdom in their path. The Lycan: monstrous, human-like wolves larger and stronger than any beast that inhabited the known world. Armies were vanquished, cities were pillaged and entire kingdoms were enslaved almost overnight. The Kingdoms of Adessia, Franarius and Westland fell quickly, unable to face the Lycan that threatened their peoples. They remain seemingly unstoppable, the kingdoms that still remain cowering at the thought of becoming next. In an act of desperate, self-preservation, many of these lands have begun paying tribute, often with gold and trinkets. But for those that cannot afford the price of safety, they pay in lives; sending slaves to sate the beasts' appetites. ​

​

This tragedy begins with one, such offering.

​

Within the forgotten lands lay an abandoned spire, nestled at the top of an ominous cliff side and reaching upwards towards the blackened sky. To the outward observer, the dark tower was in a state of obvious disrepair, even the pathway leading up the titanic slopes being lost to the weathering elements. Slowly, a rickety carriage ascended its inhospitable slopes, crawling up the sad excuse for a road as ominous storm clouds congregated in the sky above. For any visitor to these lands, it would be almost impossible to tell the time of day, for the realm was always shrouded in a perpetual and persisting darkness. Eventually, the carriage found its way to the top of the landscape, entering through an archway that led into a similarly crumbling courtyard. Rolling into the center of the square, the horse-drawn carriage came to an abrupt halt.​

​

"We're here." A gruff, solemn voice spoke for the first time. The carriage driver hadn't spoken a single word during their travels, undoubtedly fearing the repercussions of such an act. He stepped off of the carriage, opening the door to reveal the woman sitting inside. When she would step off of the carriage, she would quickly notice that another woman was waiting for her.​

​

"Greetings," A slender woman bowed before the new arrival. Her voice was gentle and her features noble, with a violet head of hair that reached all the way down the length of her back. She was dressed in an outfit reminiscent of a maid's outfit, though altered in a way that would be considered inappropriate to the vast majority of people. If the top that barely covered her bust and the dangerously short skirt were not sufficient, a side cut in the skirt revealed the entire flank of her waist, along with teasing the thin strand of undergarment beneath. "You must be Princess Elfriede of Everglade. It is an honor to meet you." A kind smile drew across her face, eyes studying the Princess candidly before averting her gaze towards the carriage driver. She waited for the man to slip around the corner before continuing. "I realize that we're not meeting on the best of occasions, but you can call me Aurora. I've been tasked with acquainting you with the castle before you are presented before the Lords." She turned around, beckoning for the Princess to follow suit, "We don't have a lot of time, so come, Princess. We should be on our way."​

​

The pair stepped up the disheveled and crumbling steps to the palace before entering through a sizable doorway. Upon entering the castle, the Princess would be greeted with a rather staggering sight. While the castle looked abandoned on the outside, the inside was as grand as any other palace she would have seen before it. Well-decorated and furnished with all of the luxuries expected of a palace and with walls made of what appeared to be newly polished marble. "The Lords have recently set about restoring their palace." She began softly. Of course, when she said Lords, she meant the slaves that had been forced to take up residence with them. But of course, that was a detail that remained conveniently left out. "When your services aren't needed, you are free to roam about this place. But under no circumstances are you allowed to leave." Aurora spoke as she walked, stepping away from the entrance and into a sprawl of corridors beyond. "I shouldn't need to tell you what will happen to you if you try... just..." Aurora stopped in her tracks, eyes gravitating towards the floor for a moment, "...just don't try to do it." She remarked, finally, before pressing onward. The palace was like a labyrinth, with a great many directions that one could easily get lost within. As they navigated down the halls, the Princess would see scores of servants moving back and forth through the area, each one silently performing their duties without giving the Princess even a passing glance.​

​

"The palace is separated into several wings. I'll try to show you all of them, but don't be offended when I tell you that you're going to forget." For quite some time thereafter, the two explored as much of the palace as they could, the servant girl showing the Princess where the servant's areas were located, while also telling her which rooms and areas that were best avoided. After showing her where the servants were allowed to bathe, a large silhouette entered their vision. The image would no doubt bring pause to the Princess, for it would be the first time she would see one of her new masters. A hulking, furred beast that towered over them and with a wolf's head, the savage creature looked as if it could tear a horse apart with its own hands...

and it could.

"Well, well... what do we have here..." The creature's voice was deep and otherworldly, each word dripping with malevolence and hatred. Before Aurora could say anything, the creature wrapped its massive hand around the servant's throat, thrusting her back forcefully against the nearest wall. "I think you're in the wrong neighborhood, girl. This is Lord Allistar's territory." He growled, "Perhaps I should take you right here, so that you aren't caught wandering in places that you do not belong." The beast's hand traversed down between the woman's legs, pressing up on the bottom of her alarmingly short skirt.

"Un... unhand me." The girl gasped as the beast's grip tightened around her slender neck. "- or you'll be in trouble."

"Oh?" The beast snarled, pressing more of his weight into the girl, "Do you really think that Lord Casamir would raise a finger to protect one of his used cocksleeves?" The creature pulled the girl away from the wall, before spinning her around and pushing her face first into the wall. "Now spread your legs, slave."

"Lord Casamir wont, but the Prince will!" Aurora shouted, the desperation beginning to mount in her voice, "That woman is his new pet... and if he figures out that you took her before he did, he will have your head!" She cried out. Her words were enough to cause the beast to suddenly stop in his tracks.

"Who-who said I was going to touch her?" The beast shot a glare towards the Princess, a recognizably puzzled look soon overtaking the beast's monstrous features.

"I don't know, keep doing what you're doing and we'll find out." She spat, looking back at the werewolf that was assaulting her. Her words were followed by a tense silence, before the creature finally released his grip on her, stepping away.

"If I see you here again, you won't be so lucky. Now scram." With that, he hastily retreated down a nearby corridor and disappeared from their view.

Aurora paused for a moment, taking in a deep sigh of relief before turning back towards the Princess, "Sorry about that." She placed her hand on her throat, tracing it along her flesh as if feeling for any injuries on her skin, "The lesser nobles are always looking for something to prove... and something to put their cocks into." She explained, "If you want my advice, you should learn your place quickly. It may be the only thing that will protect you." It was an interesting first lesson for the Princess, "Let's keep moving, before we stir up more trouble."
​

 

[Birdie]

"Abandon this duty, and you will witness a great cry across the Everglades -- such as never has been or ever will be again."

​

ℭ𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯𝔰 & ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰

Princess Elfriede Daughter of The Sun " - The Sunless Realms await her arrival as a tool of bartering and war. Such is her purpose, though she resents it greatly."​

Lucille Richter The Weak Link " - The shameful offspring of a one of the great beast Lords. She is little more than target practice for greater noblekind."​

Lady Rhea The Queen's Dancer " - The Royal Guard of an overthrown Kingdom in the North. She would've died for her Queen, had they let her."​

​

​

"You will learn to forgive me, Elfriede."

​

The silence of the journey was almost staggering, for the courier dare not speak to the girl within his carriage. Her unease was warranted, yet intense, concocting into a potent mix of fear and anger within her breast as she dwelled upon the final words of the Regent. Elfriede's removal had been a subtle affair, having taken place without ceremony or announcement. The common populace of Everglade had loved their late King, and would no doubt stir at the concept of Elfriede's sudden and alarming betrothal to the Prince of their shadowy assailants. Among other things, the Lord Regent feared rebellion, and so bartered away Elfriede without so much as a handmaiden to keep her company, entrusting her temporary well-being with a nameless carriage driver as she traversed across the border.

Their arrival turned her blood cold, and her fingers clawed at the silk of her skirt as the driver unlatched the carriage door. The sun had long been left behind -- a painful irony for the Princess of a sun-worshiping realm. She gazed distantly upon the grisly architecture, vastly different from the alabaster of her homeland, and found herself gravely unsettled by the threatening clouds above. Though no crowds were present, her surroundings felt heavy -- as if she still being watched by countless eyes.

The introduction of Aurora had come of something of a grim surprise, having settled too far into the silence of her travels. Stepping from the carriage, her dark pooled behind her feet -- revealing a silhouette that had been dressed eloquently in black and silver lace, but plainly -- as if she were in mourning. The strange cold gripped at the skin of her bare arms, and she found herself dumbfounded by Aurora's outlandish attire -- unsure as to whether or not it was appropriate for her to even look. The girl's bow was almost daunting, and Elfriede could tell that it was somewhat mechanical -- a veiled act of courtesy towards someone whose status as Princess weighed very little among these lands.

At the very least, her first interaction had been pleasant, and she was begrudgingly thankful for it.

"Please," She spoke, dipping her head briefly in return, "'Elfriede' is just fine." Her words were soft, yet uneasy. For the first time in her life, formalities made her feel gravely uncomfortable.

She could hear the horses stir up a fuss behind her as they were removed, and she truly felt alone, lacking both her camaraderie her belongings, having been sent away with nothing except the clothes on her back. She followed Aurora carefully, but maintained a considerable distance, bewildered by the grandeur change in design from the decrepit condition of the fortress' external appearance. Despite it's remarkable progress, however, the atmosphere felt twisted and dreadfully wrong, and left the Princess feeling somewhat nauseous and homesick.

"When your services aren't needed, you are free to roam about this place. But under no circumstances are you allowed to leave."

The Princess' lips parted. "Services?" She uttered, her brow knitting slightly. Aurora was knowledgeable, but seemed equally wary, and Elfriede did not press for an explanation. Her tour of the common rooms and facilities greatly implied that Elfriede was to live among and share amenities with other such servants -- a concept she struggled to comprehend amidst her priveleged upbringing. The complexity of the labyrinthian castle only served to strike further upon her emotions, and over time, she aimed to break the silence by speaking the first of countless anxieties.

"Perhaps it is bold of me to ask, Aurora, but your dress... Do they --"

Her breath hitched as the corridor painted a grisly silhouette, and her pale eyes widened in stiff horror. Every bone in her body begged for her to run, but she remained still, briefly recoiling as the beast approached at haste. Its eldritch sent shivers, and she opened her mouth as if to protest against his assault on Aurora. But no sound came around, and she caught herself from stepping forward, reluctant to behave so boldly at this time. Their exchange was intense, vulgar -- and Elfriede quickly learned of the strong dynamic between Lord and servant. Indeed, the title of "Lord" seemed to carry an entirely different meaning among the world of beasts, and she quietly prayed that her encounters with them would be few and far between.

His leaving couldn't have come soon enough, and she exhaled a long and shaky breath, once again taken aback by Aurora's downplayed reaction to such an assault. Tales of lycan blood had spread fiercely across the realm, though she had never imaged she would encounter one. Much less so, she had never imagined she would be handed over to one.

The Lord Regent had surely sentenced her to death.

"Are you hurt? I --" She stammered, falling over her words as she found herself void of any idea of what to say. She breathed in, rehearsing words in her head before speaking. "Where did you come from, Aurora? Surely you are no beast."

 

[Chevalier]

​

The servant gave pause to the Princess' questions, silence paralyzing her tongue as if the three-worded question had stunned her. "I'm... I'm fine," she remarked unconvincingly, lips faltering into a visible frown. She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her such a thing, for even the slaves were too preoccupied with their own safety to ever show their concern for others. Aurora's slender fingers reached up to her collar, tracing the leather around her neck as Elfriede spoke to her. "You're right. Anyone who bears a collar is a slave here." She explained, her gaze averting down to look at the trinket which dangled just slightly below her collar. The trinket was that of a silver serpent, with a yellow jewel clenched between its open mouth. "This mark means that I belong to Lord Casamir. He is a cruel master, but I have heard stories that he is not the worst." She sighed, before moving on to address Elfriede's second question.

"I was once a noblewoman from Adessia. My father was a baron and a royal advisor to the Queen before she was murd-" She stopped herself, "...before she was slain by Lord Tristan." The sacking of Adessia was an event that is well known among the people. Very few had survived to remember what had happened... and those that did, now found themselves bound in collars and chains. "Sorry. We should keep moving. If they hear us discussing this, then we'll land in trouble that I won't be able to talk my way out of." With that, she turned around, making her way down the halls once again.

Time passed as the pair continued to navigate the castle's labyrinth of corridors, though in the absence of the sun's light, it would be difficult to measure just how much time had truly passed. Aurora wasn't sure just how much of her little tour was sticking to the Princess, but she figured it wasn't too important. After all, it wasn't like Elfreide was going to be able to leave anytime soon. She would soon certainly have all of the time in the world to gain a grasp on her surroundings. "Here we are." Aurora said after ascending up another flight of stairs. She came to a stop in front of a tall door, the symbol of a wolf's head emblazoned upon its exterior. "The Prince is expecting you." She raised her hand to knock on the door, before giving another pause, "A final word of advice..." she began, a stern expression on her face, "... don't look into their eyes. It makes them... more aggressive." Without elaborating more on the issue, she clenched her hand into a fist and knocked on the door.

"My Prince, Your offering from the Kingdom of Everglade has arrived." A moment of silence pervaded, before a mechanical sound clicked from beyond the door. Slowly, both wings of the door slowly began to creep inwards, revealing a spacious room shrouded in darkness. The doors moved as if pulled apart by some mysterious force, for nobody stood on the other side as the doors eventually came to a halt. As the doors stopped, Aurora stepped to the side, extending her hand out in a way that beckoned her to enter inside. Once Elfriede had made her way into the room, the doors once again shifted, this time, moving in the opposite direction. Before the doors sealed shut and split them apart, the servant girl mouthed a final phrase to Elfreide, barely audible underneath the slow movement of the doors.

"Stay strong, Princess."

​

Within the Prince's bedchambers, darkness prevailed. As the Princess' eyes eventually became more acclimated to her shadowy surroundings, she would find that the room was not unlike the royal bedrooms she had seen before. Luxuriously furnished, just like the other parts of the castle, with lavish carpets and opulent trinkets nestled upon finely carved tables. It went without saying that the wolves didn't live in caves like folklore would have the commonfolk believe, but instead, more like the quintessential royal families that hailed from other kingdoms. But more captivating than the jewelry that decorated the room were a pair of crimson gemstones that glowed vibrantly from the shadows, beaming like the rays of a bloodied moon... waiting... watching...

...and then they shifted, followed by the outline of something that only distantly resembled that of a human. It gravitated closer until the moon's solemn gaze beamed upon it, revealing the monster in all of its terrifying splendor. Towering over the young Princess, the beast undoubtedly dwarfed even the creature that she had encountered back in the hallways with Aurora. With a name of glistening, silver hair that covered his titanic form, there were few sights in the realm of mortals that could illicit an equally frightening image. The monstrous Prince took another step forward, closing the distance between him and the Princess below, as if to see if the lithe figure would choose to stand her ground or retreat towards the opposite end of the room. If she chose the latter, he would continue to move towards her, until the firm wall gave her nowhere left to flee.

Upon approaching to within it's dangerous reach, the beast summoned its great arm into view, raising it until the tip of a single, oversized digit caught the Princess's soft chin. With surprisingly tender grace, the creature titled the Princess's head upwards so that he could study the definitions of her portrait more carefully. Demonic, scarlet kaleidoscopes stared down upon the defenseless Princess with twisted intentions, but as horrifying as they were, there existed an enchanting, almost tragic allure to them... almost as if they contained the soul of a tortured man beneath their very surface.

"Do I terrify you, little princess?" The beast spoke, revealing its array of deadly fangs with each word. He spoke softly, though the creature's voice possessed a dark bass which made even the gentle question sound infinitely more terrifying. The Prince turned the Princess' cheek as he waited for her to respond, as if more carefully studying her noble features. When the Princess would finally respond, he would not grace her answer with a response, instead, he elected to give her a single command... one that she would have to contemplate very carefully about disobeying:

"Undress."​

 

[Birdie]

Adessia. Silence befell the already anxious Princess at the passing mention of the fallen Kingdom, and she spoke no more of the matter. The destruction of Adessia had been a catalyst of the Lord Regent Willhelm's surrender, and a beacon of fear for its neighbouring forts. The twisted creatures of the dark mountains had been known to take prisoners, and at this moment, Elfriede learned quickly of their fates; collared, and defiled -- with no discrimination between peasantry and saint. She had been bitterly mistaken in thinking that she was any position above that of Aurora's.

"Here we are."

The Princess' heart fluttered, wishing deeply that the castle's halls had been just a little larger. She wanted to thank the girl, but for what? Her lips curled as both fear and anger bubbled to the surface, looking wide-eyed over her shoulder as she was bid a foreboding farewell. The dim candlelight from the corridor was cut away, fading into a slither and disappearing completely as the doors creeped shut behind her.

She could truly feel the absence of her sun, now, and it frightened her. There was no sanctuary to be had in the crimson glow of the Prince's glare.

His approach rendered her frozen, her head tilted upright to accommodate her wide-eyed, returning stare. Though she was heavily aware of Aurora's advice, she couldn't pull her gaze away, and instead her brow knitted to form a fearful glare that might easily be mistaken gor stoicness.

Look away.

She winced and attempted to step away from the beast's approach as he reached for her, though her retreat was quickly halted by the wall against her back. Like a monster studying its prey, she made vain attempt at resisting his moving of her face, though the sharpness of his grip threatened to rend the flesh of her jawline.

"Do I terrify you, little Princess?"

Elfriede's stomach dropped, and her knees almost buckled beneath the ominous weight of the creature's voice. Her eyes returned to his own, this time becoming briefly entranced by the strange, almost forlorn shadows which moved behind them. It was a question he knee the answer to, and her lips parted, as if to speak against his purposeful provking of her nerves. But her thoughts were throttled once more by his impeding command.

Undress? Her eyes widened, and her scowl deepened. Offense washed over her expression, temporarily superceding any semblance of fear she had previously felt. During this rush, she turned sharply, slender hands pushing against the wall behind her so she could slip out from beneath the dreadful shadow of the beastial Prince. His claw cut her cheek as she did so; a shallow and superficial wound, but painful enough for her to clasp the side of her face as she turned back towards him. The distance she had put between them was meaningless, but allowed her to collect her thoughts into words.

"I --" Her voice was cracked at first, and her chest rose and fell with every frantic breath. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and feigned boldness through anger. "I had heard you were civilised beasts, but velvet sheets and carved ceilings do not make for civility. I see now why the sun does not rise for you." Her words would've verged upon insult for the common man, and she knew this -- there was no denying the fear that laced the words which left her tongue. "Our allies had many names for you, though none of them I imagine are true. Might I at least know it, before I am anointed a possession?"

 

[Chevalier]

"I see now why the sun does not rise for you."
​

A lingering moment of silence prevailed as the Princess' tongue forked out a flame of vitriol, unwilling to show submission to the wicked Prince that towered above her. While his more feral subjects may have found themselves riled by her sharpened wit, the enigmatic Prince stood seemingly immune to her words. Instead, a mischievous grin crossed his characteristically stoic face, baring a straight line of canine-like fangs as if amused by the little Princess' hopeless act of defiance. Slowly, the beast's head gravitated closer, hovering to a dangerously close proximity from the Princess's own. "It does not rise because it fears me, my little Princess." He whispered, the quiet words still wielding all of its ominous might, "and tonight, you will learn to fear me as well."

"Might I at least know it, before I am anointed a possession?"
​

Instead of gracing the Princess' question with an answer, the beast decided to answer with action. The creature's hand suddenly lashed forward, its grotesque digits capturing Elfriede by the center of her defenseless throat. "You wish to know who I am?" Fingers tightened around the Princess' throat, until he could hear the sweet sounds of suffering crackle in the girl's throat. She was such a frail thing... and he made sure it was abundantly clear that he could snap her throat like a twig if the beast so desired. Unfortunately, such a mercy would yet to be bestowed upon the Princess. "I am your Prince... your Master. That is all that you need to know until I deem otherwise." He tightened his grip around the Princess, reveling in the pain his suffocation was causing her. "and remember this... I am the one that allows you to breathe." He said finally, before tossing the Princess down towards the ground beside him.

After sending her down to her knees, the creature grabbed her once again, this time claws finding the top of her beautiful, azure head and tugging her upwards until she was forced to sit upright on her knees. From her compromising position, she would soon find herself faced with a terror even greater than the sharp fangs or claws of her new master. Peering over her head was the creature's masculinity; monstrous... sharing more in common with that of a canine's than a human's. The frighteningly large erection was remarkably pink in complexion, with a bulbous head that came to an almost sharp point at its very tip. Underneath its length was a single, bulging vein and surrounding the girth of the shaft, a series of exotic bumps that made up an almost symmetric pattern around its circumference.

"Go on, say something clever." He taunted her, placing his grotesque erection against the center of Elfreide's face, so that she could more closely see how the object towered over the length of her face. With his hand still firmly gripping her hair, he made sure that she had no choice but to gaze upon the object that would be used to violate her. Before long, he pulled his waist backwards so that the head of his manhood pressed firmly against the Princess' supple lips. "Oh, nothing to say?" He teased her once again. Even if Elfreide wanted to speak, doing so would only give the monster the opportunity to press himself inside of her mouth. "Hm... perhaps you'll think of something while I fuck your throat." Soon, the beast began pressing his cock forward, pushing against Elfriede's tightened lips until the bruising of her lips gave her no choice but to surrender he mouth. As her lips were forcefully separated, the massive length spared not a moment's mercy before plunging into Elfreide's mouth.

"Go ahead, bite down as much as you'd like." He taunted her once more. Indeed, it was something that every slave would attempt on their first violation. But they would quickly find that the cock of a werewolf was far different than that of any mortal's. It was as solid as leather and one would find chewing a rock an easier experience than rending a werewolf's manhood with their teeth. Still holding her head in place, the werewolf began to thrust his waist back and forth, watching as the Princess struggled with even taking half of his length into her mouth. For the time being, only taking part of him would suffice.

"You belong to me now, slut." He growled out in pleasure, forcefully moving Elfriede's head back and forth to take his length in her mouth. The movements were slow at first, though even so, his great size no doubt made it a struggle for the chaste Princess to keep up with him. "When you are obedient, perhaps I will allow you to speak. But until then, you will use your mouth for more... productive things." As he spoke, the thrusting into the Princess' mouth intensified, the head of his monstrous cock pressing deeper and deeper down Elfriede's defenseless throat with each movement. With every thrust, he would test just how far he could take her down his length, only to make her go further on the next attempt.

The raping her throat lasted several minutes, until he finally pulled himself away from her lips, giving the Princess a much needed moment of rest. It would not last long. "Don't worry, soon you'll get used to the taste."

 

[Birdie]

Elfriede was unsure what she had been expecting; her appeal to whatever semblance of humanity the creature might've held was futile, and instead met with mostrous force. She exhaled sharply against his grip, her hands fumbling and trying to pry his fingers from her throat. The firmness of her grip rendered her entire form tense, standing upon the tips of her toes as to alleviate the strain of her own weight. The strength in her muscles eventually sapped, however, and her consciousness threatened to succumb to a cloudy haze. She almost wished it so.

Her respite was brief, and wicked; whimpering as she hit the floor, her body seized the moment of freedom and choked for air, one of her hands clutching at the freshly bruised skin of her throat.

"Wait --"

Her voice was weak, breathless, and quickly interrupted. Her singular word melding into a painful whine as she was seized untowardly by the hair, and at first she resisted, pullig away from his grip and kicking out against the floor, at least until she was faced with the silhouette of that thing.

Elfriede was rendered still, her eyes wide and gazing up at the monstrous silhouette of his erection. Her lip trembled, and her jaw clenched, no longer able to turn against his grip and forced to press her lips upon him.

No way. No way. She had long known what her purpose in these lands might be, but her expectations couldn't quite compare. She had stepped from her carriage only moments ago, and now...

...!

Through sheer strength he invaded her mouth, her lips parting around his massive size and tongue pressing against his shaft as she struggled to accommodate his length. Her breath was surrendered once more, granted back only briefly with each slow thrust and filling her mouth with an unfamiliar and bitter taste. The increasing pace left her helpless, humming with each sparing breath and pushing and kicking with whatevet strength she could muster.

The assault seemed to last forever, and when he did finally release her, she choked heavily for breath. Strings of saliva pulled from her mouth, and her cheeks were red and sore from watering eyes. Her head leaned back, her dazed yet scowling eyes lifting to meet the beast's own. She was worn down, but not entirely defeated; there was still a semblance of ignorant fire which swirled around otherwise cold eyes.

"I... I'll --" Her breath hitched, unable to force words from her chest. Kill you. I swear I'll kill you.

She was furious -- almost amusingly so. As if her tantrum-laden might alone would be enough to relieve her of this situation.

 

[Chevalier]

​

Prince Fenris reveled in the mess that he had created, watching as a single web of saliva trailed from the Elfriede's lips to the still hardened shaft that waited dangerously close to her face. "Oh?" The wolf remarked as the Princess struggled to let out a single word. Although he could only guess what she was planning to say, she hadn't been the first slave to make such a claim. In due time, she would learn that such thoughts were nothing more than frivolous. "I look forward to seeing you try." He moved the head of his length back against the Princess' mouth, "Until then, you will listen..." His stranglehold on the Princess' hair tightened, signaling the abuse that was about to come...

"and you will learn how to obey." ​

He thrust himself into her mouth once again, this time with greater aggression. The wolf's waist began moving back and forth rapidly, mercilessly forcing himself down her throat as he held her head in place. The throat fucking continued on, though it seemed after some time, that the Prince was merely doing this to hurt the Princess rather than for his own, nefarious desire. Watching the beautiful Princess gag on his monstrous length, tears cascading down the flanks of her frightened and overwhelmed portrait brought intense pleasure for the Prince. He wanted to break her, to see the proud Princess fall as far as she possibly could.

After some time, the Princess' torturer removed himself from the her mouth once again, giving her yet another opportunity to breathe. She would soon learn to treasure these brief moments of mercy, for they would be few and far between. "Remember, this is happening to you because you did not obey." He spoke slowly, giving the beleaguered Princess the opportunity to process what was happening to her. "I can be merciful, so long as you know your place, slut." He placed the head of his length once again to the edge of her lips, "I will give you one more chance to do as you're told." What the wolf was about to request was obvious, but this time, he made it clear what would happen if she decided to refuse him once again.

"Open your mouth and pleasure me, or else I will claim your chastity as well." He paused, crimson gemstones searching for defiance in the girl's eyes. Despite giving her the decision to be obedient, he spared her only a single, transient moment before snatching it away from her.

"Too slow." He suddenly grabbed her, before unceremoniously tossing her against the nearest piece of furniture. Sending her against a nearby table, he hastily knocked over the piles of books to make room for his newest possession. She was placed down face first, with the beast taking up position behind her. "A slut shouldn't think when she is told to do something." He growled, hands grabbing at the skirt of the Princess' elaborate dress. Soon, she would hear the sound of ripping fabrics as the creature tore the lower hem of her dress free from her body so that her legs were more readily exposed for him. "Last chance. Get on your knees and service me, or you will lose your precious virginity." He warned her, his length carefully pressing between her legs as if to taunt her.

 

[Birdie]

​

Each moment seemed to last a lifetime, and every insult whittled away at her psyche. Elfriede's teeth grit in frustration, her scowl unable to deepen further as her expression formed a truly hateful portrait, even from her position on the ground. Her grip at the beast's wrist was a tight as she could muster, and though her nails dug into fur and flesh, it was incomparable to the Prince's own hold on her hair.

She could only whine as the assault restarted, though the increased aggression in each thrust stifled her efforts at kicking and struggling and reduced her to being ravaged like a limp doll. When he did finally release her, her reprieve was brief and dazed. He spoke words of her chastity that she could barely process, a new knot of fear twisting in the pit of her stomach. In her dumbfoundedness, she was rendered momentarily silent -- a notion which caused the Prince to rebuke her lack of answer.

"Too slow."

Blue eyes grew wide, and her hands raised to feebly brace herself as he seized her to her feet and arrested her upon his desk.

"No, please --" Words sputtered from her abused mouth, her hands falling flat upon the table and desperately trying to push herself upright again. Her cheek, laden with tears and saliva, was pressed firmly against the wood. Terrified eyes averted to the side so that she might fearfully watch her assailant from the corner of her vision. She breathed heavily, watching his silhouette position itself at her rear, and tear at the hem of her skirt. "Stop... Stop." Her voice had quietened to an exhausted whisper. She flinched at every sound, trying desperately to catch her breath.

Her defilement was inevitable, and in fulfilling his desire, she would only be delaying it. Goosebumps prickled at the bare flesh of her now-naked thighs, damp from her own saliva as his length pressed threateningly against them.

After a moment, she pushed against the desk once more, this time finding herself able to stand without his interference. With this, Elfriede turned to face him, taking a moment a stare up into the twisted and forlorn crimson of the Prince's own gaze. There was hesitation, if only for a moment, before she carefully lowered herself to her knees; resentment filled every action as she cursed herself for own reactions to her predicament. Her fear of pain had rendered her weak, subservient, even. It was a concept which made her sick to her stomach.

From the floor, she lifted her vision upwards, warily beholding the thing that had ravaged her throat only moments before. It was a long moment, and allowed her to take true notice of its alarmingly bestial detailing. She was certainly unfamiliar with intimacy, but this was...

Every passing second danced with danger, and unwilling to offend him further, Elfriede's lips parted, her tongue extending to meet the underside of his shaft. The slower pace caused her to notice the strange texture of his member, and the exotic bumps which patterned its girth. The flat of her tongue met the tip, in time, and her lips closed around it, not quite able to swallow him as far as what he had forced her to do moments beforehand. Unsure of of what to do with her hands, one gripped harshly at the torn fabric of her dress, while the other held at the base of his shaft for support. She emulated prior movements and brought her head down repeatedly, albeit much slower, quietly hoping that this would be enough. Though she knew well that a beast's hunger was never quite so easily sated, and that his pleasure seemed to stem directly from her immediate suffering.

Despite her compromised position, the look of anger never quite left her otherwise delicate features, fuelled furthermore by her embarrassment at the slight wetness that seeped naturally between her legs, her body reacting to the danger which had been presented at the ripping of her attire. She prayed he would not notice.

 

[Chevalier]

​

​

The monstrous Prince watched as the Princess begrudgingly fell to her knees, having no choice but to acquiesce to her new master's demands. Although her face remained one of clear defiance, the familiar scent of her arousal tinged the werewolf's heightened sense of smell. Her prayers would prove futile, the creature pouncing on the opportunity to humiliate the chaste Princess. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He growled as feminine fingers grasped at his length, with her lips slowly pleasing the beast that towered above her. "I can smell a bitch in heat from a mile away," he added, knowing that the Princess would deny receiving any pleasure from being degraded in such a manner. ​

​

"Don't worry, I will teach you to be more honest soon enough."​

​

He allowed the Princess to continue doing as she was told, content with watching as the Princess explored the head of his length with her tongue. Although he much preferred forcefully penetrating the back of her throat, the sadistic Prince wanted to teach the Princess a lesson: that obedience was preferable over defiance. "Good girl." The beast let out a pleased groan as he felt the pleasure beginning to swell within him. "Now, swallow all of my cum, bitch." Suddenly, the beast grabbed Elfriede's hair once again, holding her head in place as he came inside of his victim's mouth. There werewolf howled as he climaxed, an almost overwhelming amount of fluid shooting forth from the head of his exotic cock. The beast's seed was white and sticky, with a thick texture that made swallowing it a difficult affair. "I suggest you get used to the taste." He held Elfriede's head against his still hardened length, waiting for her to swallow the thick layer of cum that filled her mouth. Only after she would do so, would he remove himself from her.​

​

"Perhaps teaching you will be easier than I expected." He taunted her, pausing as if waiting for one of the Princess' clever retorts. He cared little whether or not such an insult would ultimately come, for the Princess' training was not done yet. "You think this is over, don't you?" He pulled the Princess back to her feet by the hair, before lowering his face close to hers. "You will need to learn that this is over when I say it's over, my pet." With that, he dragged Elfriede towards the bed, before unceremoniously tossing the lithe figure against the covers of the bed. He soon pounced upon her, flipping her over so that her face was down against the covers. ​

​

"Do not worry, my pet. I won't touch your chastity, as promised." His words no doubt would bring confusion to the Princess, who still had no understanding of the insatiable monster's intentions. She would find out what her torturer had planned before long, the beast positioning himself atop her on all fours, his still hardened cock pressed up against the length of her back. To prevent her from writhing free, he pinned her down with one of his hands, before another tore her underwear free from her body. Discarding her last defense to the side of the bed, the beast's hand pushed one of Elfriede's rounded cheeks to the side, until both of her holes were properly exposed to the beast. It wasn't long until his length had found her rear entrance, the head of his massive girth positioned against her puckered star.​

​

"Are you scared?" He growled, the beast's head lowering so that it could whisper into his little pet's ear, "You should be. This is going to hurt... a lot." Indeed, the only lubrication that she would have would be the saliva that still coated his length. Slowly, his length started to press against her, his pointed head threatening to penetrate her from behind. "Any last words? Perhaps you'd like to beg me to stop?" He taunted the Princess, waiting a moment for her to speak. As he waited, he continued to grind against her, the head pressing back and forth as if teasing her incredibly tight entrance. There was no question on whether or not the werewolf would try to force himself inside of her, only whether the poor girl would even be able to fit his daunting size into such a tight hole. ​

 

[Birdie]

​

Elfriede responded to each insult poorly, her brow knitting tightly with each utterance, each degrading remark... and ultimately, the resuming of the assault on her throat. Her hands quickly pushed against the beast's form, albeit to no avail, forced to take in every bit of his monstrous climax. Her defiance was voiced with a low, almost gargling hum, her eyes widening and then squeezing shut as she tried desperately to swallow it before it choked her. The taste was overwhelmingly strange, and the sheer volume of it caused her to gag against his length.

Her eventual release offered all but brief respite, her lips parted as she heaved desperately for air. She had been rendered a terrible mess, fluids falling from her lips and cheeks brushed red and stained with breathless tears.

"You think this is over, don't you?"

"... What?" She whimpered, stomach turning with dread and eyes almost pleading. For a moment, she had indeed thought it was over. The thought of it daunted her so terribly that she could scarcely offer any resistance as she was thrown into the sheets, promptly swallowed by the shadow of her aggressor.

"Do not worry, my pet. I won't touch your chastity, as promised."

Then what? She could feel his breath upon the back of her neck, and the heat which radiated from his form. Her breath was quick and silent, her eyes scanning the room before her as she anxiously tried to guess his intentions. Her voice only arose as a sharp whimper as her undergarments were torn from her, revealing her lower half bare and her unwittingly aroused chastity embarrassingly on show. She was deathly anxious, confused by his words as opposed to his actions.

But when she felt his size press at her rear, her eyes grew wide in horrible realization, her fingers gripping tightly at the sheets as she began to writhe beneath him.

"No, you can't." She spoke firmly, though her fear was beginning to bubble to the surface. Whatever semblance of stubbornness she had left was beginning to crumble, her body trembling in anticipation of what was to come. "Are you insane? There's no way -- you'll kill me!" Her feet kicked out behind her briefly, stopping only as it made the pressure against her far worse. Each subtle thrust against her entrance caused her back to arch inwards, her form tensing as he tested her boundaries. Even such slight motions inflicted a peculiar and unknown sense of pain, one which caused her eyes to shut and water with dread.

"You can't, please." Her will had truly taken a tumble, now, her lip now trembling as she stifled a sob, grateful that his view of her face was minimal, at least. "It hurts."

 

[Chevalier]

​

"No, you can't." ​

​

The monster didn't like being told such things, an annoyed growl escaping the creature's lips as a broad hand caught the front of Elfriede's throat. "A slut doesn't tell me what I can and I can't do." The werewolf retorted, the firm hand tightening around her slender neck as he began choking her from behind. He could feel the Princess quiver in his grasp, no doubt frightened by the pain she was about to experience. "The next time you wish to defy me, you would do well to remember this moment." As he spoke, the beast's exotic erection pressed into her, slowly forcing its way into her tightened entrance. He ignored the Princess' sobbing, along with her desperate pleas to stop as the canine head atop his hardened length forced its way into her. He felt a wave of pleasure overcome his senses, tight walls forcefully stretching to accommodate his terrifying girth as he fit the head inside of her.​

​

"It hurts." ​

​

That was precisely the point. But if the little Princess thought she was in pain now, she would find herself woefully unprepared for the pain that was to come next.​

​

"Don't worry. I will train you to feel pleasure from the pain." He spoke eerily, his words giving a grim foreshadowing of the merciless act that was about to befall the young Princess. Giving her little time to prepare herself, the Prince thrust his full weight into her, his entire length plunging deep inside of her and forcing her walls apart. He pressed into her until his canine knot was brought down upon her opening, its bestial shape threatening to stretch her even further. He would give Elfriede little time to adjust to the pain as he pulled his waist backwards, only to thrust back into her with even greater force. It would become abundantly clear to the Princess that her new master had no care for her well being as he began ravaging her untrained entrance. The rhythm was slow, but the force that the Prince excreted with each thrust no doubt caused tremendous pain for the chaste Princess.​

​

"Scream for me, little Princess." Even as he tortured her, his taunting continued, the sadistic beast reveling in Elfriede's despair. It was as if the Prince was garnering more pleasure from her terror than from the act itself. He enjoyed humiliating her, degrading a proud and noble Princess to the point of frantic tears. She belonged to him now... and the Prince was inclined to make that well known to the Princess. The Prince continued thrusting into her, eventually grabbing the back of her hair and forcing her face down into the pillows, muffling her inevitable screams and smothering her. "Take your master's cock like a good, little whore." He growled between bated breaths, the monster slowly losing himself to his more primal instincts. It wouldn't be long now until he could feel himself reaching the edge once again.​

​

The Prince continued thrusting into her, the movements becoming noticeably more vigorous as the creature reached his climax once more. He pulled her from the pillows so that he could better hear the Princess' tormented screams before the beast suddenly thrust himself into Elfriede once again, although this time, the force of the thrust was enough so that the canine knot at the base of his exotic manhood breached her entrance. Once again, he released a pool of fluid deep inside of the sobbing Princess, the beast letting loose a satisfied roar loud enough to cause the room to tremble in its wake. As the beast came down from his euphoric climax, there was brief moment of silence as the werewolf slowly removed himself from the Princess. ​

​

"Perhaps you are worth keeping after all." The Prince spoke, leaving his new pet to linger upon the bed as he stepped away from her. "You will sleep here tonight. I will come to greet you in the morning." He spoke in a calm tongue, almost acting as if the awful abuse that had just transpired had never happened. The creature migrated towards the door, glancing back at the Princess one more time before disappearing through the doorway. "Goodnight, my pet."​

 

[Birdie]

​

Elfriede's mind was scarcely able to comprehend the pain, her voice crying out through gritted teeth. Her back arched as her insides were stretched and filled, her psyche convinced that she would split in half if he continued any farther. But he did, and she could do nothing to stop him. Fingers clawed at the sheets ahead of her, grasping tightly onto anything she could find. "Stop," she managed to choke, the pain provoking her into issuing commands despite his warnings, "It's too much--" Laboured words merged into a sharp whine as he thrust back into her, and then again... and again. Such cries were only stifled by his eventual holding of her throat, the deprival of air causing her eyes to roll back into her head.

Tears fell down her cheeks and with every breath she could take, she exhaled it as a scream, increasing in volume as each thrust brought him closer to the hilt. His movements were merciless, sadistic, disallowing her any opportunity to cling to her usual stubborn demeanor. Even a woman as entitled as herself could not hope to remain sturdy beneath such an assault.

"Scream for me, little Princess."

Scream, she did. Her cries echoed around the room and past the door which kept it, no doubt stirring whatever beasts dwelled beyond it. Such exertion took its toll, eventually, and her screams died down into a continuous, defeated whine. Her front half lay limp in the sheets, shifting with the beast's motions, and only tensed once more as his knot was pushed roughly inside her abused hole. She could barely stand it, her entire body quivering and twitching with each motion of his monstrous orgasm. His slow removal and release of her saw Elfriede collapse heavily into the bed, her breath heaving with exhaustion and defeat. Her muscles trembled and she could feel the Prince's seed drip down her rear, pooling beneath where she lay.

The Princess had been rendered a shameful mess, humiliated by the actions of her own council. Even in her placid, surrendered state, she swore she would one day skin the Lord Regent alive.

"You will sleep here tonight. I will come to greet you in the morning."

Bruised, and broken, her knees drew upward to her body, dragging the covers with them so that she could use them to cover her entire form. Though her battered exhaustion eventually dragged her into her nightmares, she hoped that morning would never come.

_________
​

Though weighted heavily by her exhaustion, her sleep waned, rendered into a premature awakening by a strange breeze upon her skin, and the foreboding sense that she was being watched. She shifted her legs from beneath the sheets, her own vision blurred from slumber, and sat partially upright. The room was dark, now, no longer lit by waning lantern light. Elfriede's tired eyes followed the shadows across the walls until they reached the window, which was now open, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of a new silhouette which had perched within it.

"Sorry, sweet thing," a voice cooed, "I did not mean to wake you. I just wanted to take a look at you."

Elfriede's lips parted, and she pulled the sheets upward, hugging them to her chest. "Who are you?" She uttered, her legs moving to hang over the edge of the bed.

"No one important." The woman replied, her strangely pale features coming ever into view as the Princess' eyes adjusted slowly to the dark. Silver hair, colourless eyes... a barely-clothed figure whose bare leg swung idly from the pane. "A friend, perhaps. I wanted to see what had riled our Liege so terribly."

"You heard?"

The girl laughed, her voice rhythmic and giggling at the suggestion. "Of course. And... your scent. I could smell you before I even opened the window."

The window. Elfriede stood, in time, and began pacing towards the stranger, though her focus seemed to be fixated on the open window behind her. The woman's mouth opened, as if to speak, though a quick glance back and forth allowed her to observe where the Princess' thoughts were leading.

"Ah, forgive me, I'm in your way." The woman shifted to the side, drawing her knees away so that Elfriede could get a better view of the thick darkness that lay beyond. She watched as she leaned towards the opened way, and peered downward, unable to even see the terrain through the dark. Though the sun never rose, it seemed the night cycles here owed an even more sinister darkness. "I know what you're thinking. It's a terrible way down, Princess. If the fall doesn't kill you, and you don't break your legs, I'm sure someone will kindly break them for you when they catch you again."

"If you have only come to taunt me, I won't hear it. What do you want from me, Miss?" Elfriede's tone was quiet, yet she glared at the woman in an almost accusatory manner.

"Lord." The woman retorted, her sudden sharpness causing Elfriede to startle slightly.

"My Lord," she corrected herself, concealing her confusion at the manner in which the woman referred to herself by male powers,"if the last few hours have taught me anything, it's that everyone here wants something."

The woman smiled. A wry, yet delicate smile, much unlike that expected of a Bestial Lord. "Just... for you to strong. To keep him interested, and looking your way, just for a while." The Lord extended her slender hand, fingertips reaching as if to touch the bruised skin on Elfriede's neck... but not quite. She certainly did not want to face the wrath of the Prince, should he smell her on his newest pet. "Again, I... did not mean to disturb you. Please, sleep, lest he find you awake at such a strange time." She reached upward, now, grasping the curtains between her fingertips and drawing them shut in front of her. Elfriede could not see where she went, but could hear the window's latch turn, and feel the breeze disappear from the room as if nothing had happened.

Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, and Elfriede stifled the urge to scream, bitter and bothered in such a way that it felt as though salt had been rubbed into an already-open wound. She fell back upon the bed, hugging the covers to her sore and bruised body.

 

[Chevalier]

ᴀ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇꜱ

____________________________
​

Within the embrace of a dimly lit room, several silhouettes waited, their faces illuminated by the embers of wavering torchlight. There stood four figures in total, each claiming a corner of the narrow dwelling as their own. Although they were each graced with the flesh of youthful beauty, the figures that occupied the room were wolves donning the clothing of sheep. The eldest among the werewolves, the Werewolf Lords ruled over their dark kingdom with malignant tyranny. Possessing the purest of lycan blood, their power is unrivaled by the weaker lords beneath them. After some time, the transient silence that lingered in the room was broken by the opening of the entrance, revealing the fifth of their kin. ​

​

"You're late." A womanly voice hissed from the adjacent corner, glowing kaleidoscopes narrowing underneath an arrangement of platinum bangs, "and I thought that we made it clear that only nobles are allowed into this room. I suggest that you leave your cock warmer outside." She added, a glare pointing off towards the unwelcome figure beside Lord Tristan. The woman who spoke was Lord Morgana d' Elyse, the third Elder Lord and one of the few women to ascend into the castes of upper nobility. She was often referred to as the Blood Witch for her interest in the forbidden arts of necromancy and blood magic, both schools that would get one burned as a heretic in the vast majority of human kingdoms. ​

​

At the entryway, a man possessing a crimson mane and a handsome portrait stared back at his verbal assailant, "We have lived for a thousand years... and yet you are upset over five minutes." Lord Tristan retorted with stoic grace. In his human form, Lord Tristan was the tallest among the Werewolf Lords, with a well-defined jawline that dipped upwards into unerringly attractive cheekbones. He was best known as the Kingdomslayer by his kin, having orchestrated the downfall of Adessia by ravaging their army almost single-handedly. He slaughtered and enslaved its people, murdering their Queen and taking her bloodied crown as his prize. But even more priceless than the bejeweled trinket was the woman that he took as his prize. ​

​

Standing behind Lord Tristan lingered a brunette woman in chains. Her wrists were tightly bound together behind her waist with metal shackles and a collar wrapped around her neck, trailed by a leash that led to her master's hand. She wore a porcelain hued, backless dress that extended down to her ankles, although the fabrics did little to cover her waist, allowing one to see the sides of her lacy undergarments. She was once known as the Queen's Dancer, a hereditary title that had been passed down for many generations. It was believed that the women who would hold the title of the Queen's Dancer were blessed by the Goddess of War herself and because of this, possessed an unmatched martial prowess that made them fit for their illustrious reputation. ​

​

But such a legendary past was now marred by the present, the Queen's Dancer reduced to little more than a plaything for the Werewolf Lord that saw her proud kingdom destroyed. "She is not merely a slave." He began, though the collar and gag which plugged her lips seemed to disagree with that statement wholeheartedly, "Lady Rhea is my future bride." He tugged on her leash, bringing the girl closer towards him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her until her exposed back was pressed against his chest. "The Goddess' blood runs through her veins. Once she learns to accept me, then she will provide me with a bloodline worthy of my legacy." He placed his hand upon her neck, squeezing it tightly as his lips hovered closer to her ear. ​

​

"Once this meeting is over, I'm going to fill you up with my love again." His whispers were soft but terrifying, the foreshadowing of Rhea's continued torture soon to come. He moved his hand between her legs, slipping underneath the front of her dress so that his fingers could play between her legs. His masculine digits slowly prodded at the former knight's entrance through silken fabric, his whispers and familiar touch enough to make the Queen's Dancer wet despite her resistance. His hand moved back and forth, fingers pressing the fabric slightly into her, teasing at her womanly folds. "It doesn't take much to get you wet anymore. I think your body is starting to betray you."​

​

"Tristan, have a seat so that we may get started. We may have thousands of years, but the mortals will soon learn that together, they can still resist us." The Prince spoke candidly, revealing a small glimmer of weakness to the human slave in their midst. "The slave may stay, but I want her out of my sight." He added, watching as Tristan migrated towards the nearest empty seat to him. As he moved away from the entrance, the door opened once again, revealing the next of their late arrivals. While normally they would expect the sixth of their kin to sit with them, instead, he would be substituted with another figure.​

​

"Lord Yama is currently predisposed. As his substitute and as a Lord of high rank, Lord Lucille shall replace him for the purposes of this meeting. She will listen... and if necessary, she will vote in Lord Yama's stead." He explained, waiting for the girl to take her seat at the table. "Welcome, Lord Lucille and next time, do try to be on time."​

​

"Tch. We shouldn't have to entertain the opinion of a runt." Another Lord spoke, a man with a head of short, blue hair. Lord Allistar maintained the largest group of slaves, often being referred to as the Lord of Chains. "We would be better served with an empty seat, so that the adults may speak."​

​

"You are one to talk, Allistar. If size and strength are what qualifies us to sit at the table, then you would be found woefully inadequate to sit where you are." A new voice spat, this time coming from the golden haired Lord Casamir. "Perhaps Lord Lucille might be able to slay you in single combat and take your place. I know where I would wager my money."​

​

Lord Allistar jumped up from his seat, slamming his hands against the table as the veins in his neck began to reveal themselves. In his anger, the Lord showed that he was close to turning into his true, bestial form. "Silence! I will not be taunted by a coward that hides in the shadows. If you wish to wager on life and death, then perhaps you would like to bet your own?" He growled.​

​

"That's enough. Have a seat, Lord Allistar, or else it will be my wrath that you will be wagering against."​

​

As the beasts bickered among one another, Tristan pushed Lady Rhea down into the ground, forcing her to sit underneath the table. He positioned her so that she was facing him before pulling his seat inwards, making it so his pet had no choice but to sit between his legs and uncomfortably close to her master's groin. As he waited for the Lords to resolve their conflict, he pulled down on the waistband of his pants, revealing his hardened length for his slave. He tugged on the girl's leash, her face brought closer to his erection before hooking his finger over the gag in Rhea's mouth. Pulling her gag from her mouth, he quickly replaced it with the head of his aroused masculinity. From his position, he shot the girl a glance, as if waiting for her to begin servicing him from below. ​

 

[Birdie]

​

Shame was the epitome of all of her afterthoughts, feeling naught but contempt and ill will with every step she took in his presence. Rhea's title as Lady had become little more than a token, now, denied what would have been an honorable death and instead paraded as the souvenir of a beast's conquest. She had been anointed Dancer, blessed by the lunar Goddess once revered in the desecrated Adessia, and now... Defiled. Her vows to her Queen had been rendered to dust, and the celibacy she had sworn to had been taken from her by force. Now, the beast who dragged her down seldom took his away eyes from her, tormenting her endlessly with twisted actions and verbose proclamations of twisted affection.

Her bound wrists could remember the feeling of her final battle, and the sensation of her silver dagger as it bore through the Lord's bestial hide. Every mark of her being yearned to do it again.

"Once this meeting is over, I'm going to fill you up with my love again."

She was perhaps a little taller than average, yet he still towered over her, almost alarmingly so. Her teeth bit deeply into the gag, her breath quiet and strangely calm despite her boiling anger and more-than-dangerous surroundings. She could feel his warmth against her back, his hand as it pushed down her front and caressed the sculpted form of her abdomen. Her breathing soon quickened, if only slightly, at the perverse invasion of his less-than-private touch. His verbal teasings were infuriating, and her hands writhed in their binds. She hated him. She hated him with every ounce of her heart.

A brief distraction came in the form of a quiet jingling, like bells, which appeared in the doorway. Her eyes cast to the side, beholding the petite figure which arrived lastly among the moot.

"Good day, my Lords... ah --" Lucille's voice was rhythmic, her gaze drifting across the room and immediately becoming distracted by the strange face among the crowd. "My Lady." She bowed her head slightly, though the gesture was sardonic. She seemed amused, almost, as her attention flickered between the woman and her keeper.

As usual, her form was draped in a short, olive gown which gently hugged at the width of her hips and the generous swell of her breast. The light fabric was stitched with patterned gold thread, dipping into a deep v-neck which allowed her cleavage to breathe. The hem of the skirt drifted dangerously around her upper thighs, and her legs stood bare, save for the golden anklets which tinkered above her left foot. The source of the jingling sound, no doubt. Her scarcely clad form was not a means of provocation, however, but rather paid well into her ease of movement. She was strong, in her own right, but not quite as strong as the beasts that currently surrounded her. Rather... she was a quick, slippery little creature, whose mind-games had allowed her to keep most of her dignity thus far.

Still, most of them resented her, for reasons usually related to that of either her runtish stature or her sire. The latter was a peculiar burden, for she had never particularly liked the dead beast either.

"Tch. We shouldn't have to entertain the opinion of a runt. We would be better served with an empty seat, so that the adults may speak."

Ah, the Lord of Chains. She turned in his direction as she seated herself, the amused smile never quite leaving her features. Bickering Lords were commonplace, and she displayed few signs of intimidation amidst the near-violent quarrel between beasts. She giggled softly, leaning forward on her elbows and placing her chin on her hands.

"Underestimation will be the death of you." She began, drawing in a quiet breath as she struggled to contain her amusements. Ghostly features peered intently in the Allistar's direction. "Weaklings learn quickly, during their short little lives. Haven't you noticed your conquests becoming ever more difficult? More slaves making attempts on your lives? One of them nearly succeeded, albeit under different circumstances." Her head tilted, eyes falling upon Tristan. "I do hope your wound is healing well, M'Lord."

Rhea's perception of the ordeal was daunting, deeming it no different to dogs committing to a barking contest. Her observations were only brief, as she was pushed to knees beneath the table, offering little resistance out of subtle fear of the rest of the meeting's attendants. Lucille's mentioning of her deed distracted her attention briefly before her balance was pulled inward by the tug of her leash. Her position was nestled between his legs, unable to push herself away due to the awkward positioning of her hands behind her back. She was offered little choice but to lean into him, and for a moment, she truly believed that he was removing her gag as a means of allowing her to rest her face.

The Dancer's brow knitted as the gag was replaced by her Master's erection, her grey eyes lifting and glaring upward at him with all the meaningless fury she could muster. She was self-conscious, embarrassed of her predicament, trying her best to keep her breathing silent as she was made to service him from beneath the table. To an extent, she seemed to understand that he wouldn't butcher her for slight missteps, but the rest... She moved carefully, her tongue caressing the length of his shaft to the best of her untrained ability.

​

 

[Chevalier]

​

​

Although it was clear that Lord Allistar wished to press the matter further, the Prince's intervention brought silence to the wolves. They may have squabbled among one another, but when faced with their Prince, it was easily recognizable that none of them wished to challenge his authority. At least, not without the safety of shadowy deceit. Allistar settled back into his seat, his cold glare remaining transfixed upon Lucille for a transient moment before finally waning. None of the elder Lords enjoyed Lucille's resistance to their authority, but kept their tongues despite her clever retort. When her attentions turned towards the Kingdomslayer, Tristan simply graced Lucille's boldness with a smile.​

​

"Yes, I've been well taken care of." He placed his hand upon Rhea's hair, capturing a handful of her raven locks as she ran her tongue across his length. The scornful glares that the Queen's Dancer presented to him only served to encourage the sadistic beast, who thoroughly enjoyed seeing the proud knight fall into such humiliating circumstances. It was no secret that Tristan had been thoroughly training his favorite pet, other slaves often gossiping about the terrible things he does to her. Rather than wasting any more of his thoughts on Lucille, he began forcing Rhea up and down on his length, as if punishing her for the humiliation that he had just been reminded of. The soft sound of crackled gagging echoed the room, though the Lords simply dismissed the explicit sounds as familiar background noises. Casually, Tristan began penetrating the back of Rhea's throat, saliva dribbling from her lips and down the shaft of his length as she was made to bob up and down on his erection. ​

​

"Alright, now that the pleasantries are taken care of, shall we get started?" Casamir began, turning towards the Prince, "May we ask why our Prince has called a meeting between the Lords?"​

​

"Yes." The Prince remarked, before beginning the point to the meeting, "The Everglades are seeking peace. Their steward has given me their Princess in exchange for peace. Additionally, they plan to pay us a tribute of slaves and gold once a month."​

​

"Ah. So it was a Princess that was screaming last night. Tell me, was the tight slut worth a kingdom's continued independence?" Morganna leaned against her table, stroking her platinum strands with feminine digits, "Making peace with vermin only legitimizes them. The only negotiation should be in destruction and chains." The warmonger added, eyes narrowing as the Lords turned to the Prince for his reasoning.​

​

"As Lucille has pointed out, the humans are growing wiser. Their armies are large in number, while our numbers are few." The Prince explained, a fact that was still not well known to the humans. "The Everglades were prepared for a fight. However, their army must return to toil their farmlands, otherwise they will starve during the winter." He paused for a moment, crossing his arms against his chest. "Once their army is disbanded, we will strike. Until then, I will enjoy their Princess as much as I would like."​

​

"I see, so in the meantime, we should prepare to make plans for the invasion." Casamir turned towards Tristan, who seemed like he was more interested in what was happening between his legs than the meeting, "...and how we should divide the spoils." He added, between the sounds of Rhea's labored gagging. ​

​

As the beasts continued to scheme, Tristan continued to thrust his hips upwards and into the back of Rhea's throat, the former Queen's Dancer having no choice but to take each of his forceful movements. When he had first taken her from her home, he remembered Rhea having much more difficulty in accepting his length into the back of her throat, her gag reflex causing her to wretch and cry much more immediately. But after abusing her for several weeks, she was beginning to fare better against his onslaught, though his girth probably still proved painful for the girl. "You're getting better at this." He mouthed softly, barely audible between the other voices in the room. ​

​

...​

​

"We'll dismiss the meeting for now. I would like to see all of you again in a few nights, so that we can continue this discussion." The Prince stood from his seat, before turning towards the doorway, "You are all dismissed." ​

​

As the Lycan Lords began to take their leave, Tristan seemed content with staying where he was. A few moments passed before the red-headed wolf and his slave were finally alone in the room together. "You enjoy this now, don't you?" He pulled Rhea's head up, until her lips were finally free from his length. He gave her a moment to deny his claim, or to make another of her clever speeches about how she planned to kill him. Whether or not she decided to spit vitriol, Tristan raised his hand and brought his open palm against the side of Rhea's cheek. Before the sound of the slap could finish echoing throughout the confined, now unoccupied room, the red-headed master followed up with another strike... then another. He slapped both of Rhea's cheeks until they were visibly reddened and without gracing her defiance with a response, continued to fuck the back of her throat.​

​

Eventually, Tristan would stand, pulling her from underneath the table. "Turn around and put your face against the table. I want to watch you spread your legs for me."​

​

____________________________________________________​

​

As the Lycan Lords left the meeting room and went their separate ways, Lord Casamir singled Lucille out from the group, following casually behind her until they came up to a nearby corner. Before she could realize what was happening, the golden haired Lord grabbed Lucille by her wrist, pulling her around the corner before capturing her throat in his other hand. Without any hesitation, Lord Casamir pinned Lucille up against the nearby wall, his grip tightening around her frail throat as the back of her head slammed against the wall. "I know what you're planning." Casamir cooed softly, handsome eyes studying Lucille for any sign of desperation. "You plan to go against the Prince. You may be clever, but you're quite misguided." He explained, his lips moving closer towards her ear.​

​

"Do you know what will happen to you once the Prince discovers your treason? No?" His voice hung into a hushed whisper. As he spoke, he tightened his grip upon her throat further, until the Lord could hear the girl's breath crackle underneath his grip, "He will dress you up like one of his sluts, tie you up and put you on public display in his throne room. He will allow all of the wolves to fill you with their cocks, an endless train that will break you. Then, after the wolves are done with you and you are begging for his forgiveness, he will allow the slaves that you adore so much to have their turns with you." Casamir smiled, as if such a horrific image was appealing to him. ​

​

"Luckily for you, I share no love for the Prince." He explained, finally loosening his grip enough so that the girl could breathe once again. "I am far more interested in you." With that, his lips crashed against Lucille's in a painful, bruising kiss.​

​

​

​

 

[Birdie]

​

Amidst her insufferable gagging, Rhea was doing her best to listen; a task rendered difficult by the less-than-discreet assault on her throat and the muffled sounds of choking and gagging. Her eyes watered and her cheeks burned red from both anger and oxygen deprivation as she struggled to draw in each breath. Nevertheless, she did little to resist. Whether she liked it or not, Rhea had indeed learned many things during her time within these sunless lands. Not to pull away, not to bite -- small things that had initially spared her the harshest treatments, although it didn't seem to affect much anymore.

"You're getting better at this."

Rhea's glance upward was severe and full of resentment. She exhaled sharply through her nose in bitter reaction, briefly testing just how much she'd be able to retreat her head away before being pulled back down upon him. And, as expected, the ensuing ordeal was one of guttural choking, offered little mercy by the hand which held her by the hair.

The eventual dismissal of the wolves' moot was swift, and part of Rhea almost wished they would return. The empty room felt heavy, and full of dread; indeed, the Dancer was most vulnerable when left alone in Lord Tristan's presence.

"I hate you." She hissed between gasps, her face a mess of tears and saliva, embarrassingly unable to wipe her face with her hands behind her back. Such hateful words were cast aside by a slap to her face -- and then another, and another. Each one caught a whimper, her cheeks moist and burning by the end of it and her muscles beginning to twitch in dreadful anticipation before each one.

Her legs splayed in awkward directions on the floor, unable to use her hands to balance herself and kept in place only by his harsh grip at the back of her head. The struggle continued, unable to maintain her stature as she was pulled to her feet and almost falling against the central table.

"Turn around and put your face against the table. I want to watch you spread your legs for me."

Rhea's gaze fell sheepishly to the floor, a string of saliva dripping from her chin. For all her strength, she knew well that no matter which cards she played, the outcome would always be the same. Her entire form had developed an ache consistent with her abuse, and the several nights that she had spent asleep on the floor as punishment for her actions. The beast's behaviors towards her were twisted, and severe -- so much so that she had earned sympathy from even the most withered of slaves. His warped proclamations of love only made it all the worse for her.

She turned, in time, so that her hips pressed against the lip of the table. As she did so, she seemed distracted; her eyes caught by the regal display of weaponry that adorned the walls. Strange, she thought, that beasts would hone steel; but the differing sigils and craftsmanship among them soon hinted that they had not always belonged to the bestial realm. A trophy room, perhaps -- one which made her bound hands clench into fists, longingly wishing that she had been untied, so that she might attempt to put them back into usage.

"I will, but -- please, My Lord, answer me this:" She began, though she dare not look back over her shoulder towards him. She had never once asked him of anything before now. "Is it true? Elfriede... has the Steward of the Everglades truly turned over the Capital's only daughter?" There was a lump in her throat, unable to comprehend the discussions she had overheard, and knowing well that if the Everglades were to be overturned, then there was little hope for its surrounding allies.

_________
​

Disinterest would have been an understatement when describing the demeanor of the moot's youngest; whose subtly clawed fingertips scratched faint marks idly into the table. Listening to her brethren discuss political matters was a grim matter -- a blatant charade of civility among beasts. Who were they trying to fool? Discussions and treaties among them were meaningless, for each beast took what he could regardless of prior agreements. The Prince most of all, presently entranced by his recent sun-faring acquisition. Such a poor little creature, she thought, to be sold away to much a monster.

Her collection of slaves was small, but growing; each one bore her unique collar, and attended only to domestic duties. There was little she could do to deter the other Great Lords from her keep, but it was no secret that she would claw the throats of lesser beasts that dared approach her posse of broken handmaids.

As she left the room, she paid one last glance towards Tristan, offering a moment of pity towards the disgraced Dancer. She was tired, bored, and ultimately unassuming of the danger that lingered behind her. The little wolf heard his approach, in time, but it was too late to run. She gasped sharply as she was pulled from plain sight, pinned firmly against the cold, ornate wall of the connecting hallway.

"What are you --" Her voice was squeezed to a halt, her teeth lips parting at her airways were held shut. Lord Casamir? Her expression seemed surprised -- of all the lycan Lords, she had pinned Casamir as the least impulsive. Perhaps not.

Strangely, Lucille was calm, her small form unable to do little else beneath his weight. Her gaze was averted, turned to the side -- a blatant show of submission to the instinctive lycan. She perhaps knew better than anyone that forceful eye contact offered little reprieve for the underdog. Her breathing was a quiet wheeze, and she desperately maintained a calm pace as he uttered strange accusations in her ear.

Her stomach turned. How could he possibly know? Her mind considered every option, and ultimately concluded that no, he couldn't have known anything. He was teasing her, riling her up. Strangely enough, the slightest of smirks tugged at her lips amidst the thought, though her stomach turned at his detailed and whispering description of what consequences would follow.

It was almost enough to make her falter.

But the kiss was quick, and unexpected. Her voice murmured the slightest of whimpers against his mouth and for a long moment, she succumbed to it. Lucille bore particularly fragile instincts, and her heat always teetered at the edge. Her abdomen tensed, and her flesh felt warm -- it was a feeling that nigh held her down, but at the last moment, she relented.

Utilizing the heavy atmosphere and the slightness of her frame, she pushed herself sharply underneath and away from him, putting a short distance between herself and the assaulting Lord. She stopped, then, and recollected her composure. She ran a hand through her hair and brushed herself down briefly, shooting a harsh and dismissive gaze towards the man and rubbing the flesh of her now-tender neck.

"Me, challenge the Prince?" She asked, her tone laced with sarcasm. "You're as mad as the rest of them." Her breathing eventually steadied, slowly recovering from her body's strange and unwanted chemical reaction to the male's approach.

"I have little care for whatever bad blood resides between you and the Prince, nor do I care for whatever interest you have in me." She inhaled a long breath, boldly turning her back to him and continuing her walk. "I have better things to do than to privy with your deranged fantasies, so find somewhere else to stick your cock."

 

[Chevalier]

​

The Lycan Lord stroked his reddened mane as he waited, watching to see if his favored slave would choose to resist him once again. Indeed, the reaffirmation of the Dancer's hatred towards him made it seem that she would select the path of defiance, but when her lips parted, it seemed that she was more interested in the discussion that had been held between the other Lords. "and what interest do you have in the Everglades?" Tristan began, allowing a transient moment of silence to pass over his beleaguered slave before continuing, "When Adessia fell, did their banners answer your Queen's pleas? Or perhaps, you believe that you can still be saved."

The red-headed Lord stepped behind Rhea, until his chest pressed gently into her back. "Yes, it is true." His lips navigated closer towards Rhea's ear, the dark inflections in his voice teasing her senses, "The Princess is Fenris' cock warmer now." He knew that the revelation would cause great distress for the Queen's Dancer, for as long as the Everglades existed, there was the possibility that the wolves may yet be defeated in battle. The Everglades were among the largest of the human kingdoms, their armies well-equipped and formidable to even the werewolves. Though this weakness was a closely guarded secret among the wolves, Tristan knew that Rhea would never have the opportunity to utilize it. "The one woman with the power to save you..." He cooed, his hands slowly trailing around the Dancer's waist as if to taunt her, "and she's getting her holes ravaged like any other slut."

"But..." As he began speaking once again, the beast's hand found the back of Rhea's raven head, claiming her hair between his fingers before pressing her head down towards the table. "... you should be far more concerned with yourself." He pushed her face down until the side of her cheek was pinned up against the horizontal veneer. This is how Tristan often enjoyed abusing her, by forcing her down against a wall or any other convenient surface before taking her however he liked. The creature spoke of love, but it had become abundantly clear that Tristan's only aim was to torture her. Or perhaps, this was simply how such monsters showed their affections...

Holding Rhea in place, Tristan effortlessly brushed the skirt of the Dancer's dress to the side, the pearl hued fabric having done exceedingly little in covering her sanctity. "Beg for it." He growled as he took up position behind her. In the weeks that Rhea had been abused by Tristan, he would often train her on how to address him and more importantly, how to beg properly when he planned to rape her. Although she would usually resist him at first, the result was always the same. He would hit her, abuse her or otherwise hurt her until the Queen's Dancer could do nothing but acquiesce, her lips dancing and her throat singing the humiliating words that he wished for her to say. As he waited for Rhea to speak, he placed the head of his hot length against the former knight's arousal, her forbidden lips already drenched in her sweet nectar. Whether she liked it or not, Rhea's body would soon become accustomed to the abuse she received on a daily basis.

"I said beg, my sweetheart." Tristan didn't like having to say things twice, his open hand suddenly falling upon the knight's exposed rear in a loud smack. Although it would usually take physical convincing, Tristan always made Rhea give him what he wanted. If she would choose the path of resistance, he would hit her again, then again, until she had no choice but to beg him to take her. If her words were unconvincing, then she would only earn herself another painful strike. "Go on... convince me."

______________________________​

​

As Casamir's lips fell into Lucille's own, the Lord of Deceit could, for but a fleeting moment, sense weakness beginning to grip the lesser Lord. The whimper that passed between their lips spoke a thousand words and as he felt her slowly beginning to surrender, the nimble Lord darted away from his grip in but a flash. He attempted to hide his dismay as Lucille scampered away, listening to her unconvincing words as she began to make her retreat. Yet, despite her stoic and crafty demeanor, she should have known well that Casamir could smell the girl's arousal unconsciously dribbling between her legs. She may have held the position of a powerful Lord, but those around her were beginning to understand her true nature. It was just a question of how long it would be until the illusion was dispelled completely.

"You speak to me as if I don't have proof." Casamir cackled quietly, placing his hand over his mouth as eyes narrowed to watch Lucille's hasty retreat. Perhaps Casamir was bluffing, but if there was anyone who could figure out Lucille's true allegiances so quickly, then the Lord of Deceit would certainly be at the top of the list. His network of spies and slaves were well-known among the higher nobility and because of this, few wished to ever challenge him. Would it be a risk that she was so willing to take? As Lucille turned her back towards him, he made sure to deliver her a final message for her to ponder. "I will give you until midnight to reconsider. I'm sure you know where to find me." With that, he began to spin around, only to pause before leaving Lucille to walk away in the other direction.

"And I suggest you wear something nice." He added, before finally disappearing around the corner.