𝔒 ʙ ᴇ ᴅ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ᴄ ᴇ ; 従 順「 ᴍɪɴᴄᴄɪɴᴏ & ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ 」

[Chevalier]

by @minccino & @Chevalier
Warning: Dark Themes Ahead

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

KIYOMI

REGNIER
(ren • year)
Thirty-Two | 6'3"

Guild Leader of Silverrend
"The Dragon of Emmeria"

To his allies, he is Ren... to his enemies - death.

​

The countryside was solemn and quiet, the frigid bite of winter's embrace chilling flesh as crystalline stars cascaded down upon the earth below. Each speck of arctic gemstone melded underneath the boots of men, adding to the white blankets of snow which drew over the once green pastures of the Emmerian farmlands. But the once beautiful, tranquil landscape had been cursed with violence. Rivers of blood ran deep, staining porcelain white with stark streaks of crimson. Across the field of battle, dozens of warriors lay slain, the corpses of fallen adventurers scattered as their bodies lay still underneath the growing, icy haze.

Standing between the inanimate husks that littered the earth were a series of dark silhouettes, their faces barely visible underneath the scant illumination of the evening moon's light. But even in the absence of the sun's rays, one would have been able to see their foreboding statures... along with the dark auras that practically oozed from every step that they took. These were men, well-armed and some armored, adventurers from the infamous guild of Silverrend.

"Twenty-three dead and counting." A voice called out from amidst the dead, "Our enemies will think twice before stepping into our turf ever again."

"I see. Any survivors?" The voice that replied was deep and masculine, possessing a distinct, noble cadence that was uncommon amongst men of the adventuring trade.

"No sir, I don't believe so." The guild members scanned the immediate area, "We struck quickly. Few had the opportunity to draw their weapons. The rest were cut down effortlessly."

"Good. With half of the Artemis Guild dead, they will have no choice but to cede their territories to us." The mysterious figure turned to his guild members behind him, most of which were already pilfering loot from the dead. "Gold. Equipment. Take whatever's useful and prepare to return-"

Before he could finish his sentence, another voice pierced through the bitter wind. "Sir! We found one!" From his peripheral vision, a mass of silhouettes emerged into view. A woman flanked by two men, each of her slender arms captured between burly appendages. They dragged her, forcefully, her feminine legs drawing a path into the snow as she was brought forward into the center of the group. "We found the little bitch hiding behind a tree. She was healing herself instead of the dying man next to her." The 'little bitch' found herself unceremoniously tossed into the middle of the armed men, who drew a circle around her to cut off all forms of escape.

"I do believe I said: no survivors." The leader remarked. From the darkness, yellow irises beamed vibrantly, glaring down at the rival guildmember that had been presented before him.

"You're right. Sorry, sir." One of the warriors that had been carrying the woman unsheathed his dagger, dipping down at the waist to pluck the woman by her silvered locks. He pulled her upwards to her knees, before bringing his blade close to the stranger's neck with the intention of slitting it open. But before the sharp end of the knife could rend the defenseless woman's flesh, the man standing in front of her waved his hand, bringing the life-ending stroke to pause.

"Wait." The man ordered. "I'll handle this one myself." There was not even a moment of hesitation, the warrior removing his blade from her neck, before retreating a step backwards. It went without saying that the Silverrend Guild was made up of well-disciplined members. A fact which only added to their brutal efficiency.

Closer the leader of the group stepped, until the moon's light finally revealed the chiseled features of the stranger's face. Regnier was tall and handsome, with an unerringly stubborn jawline that plunged upwards into high, attractive cheekbones. His flesh was lightly tanned, accentuated by a head of well-kept strands of chestnut-hued hair that flowed down to the upper tip of broad shoulders. He was distinctly masculine, but there existed a hint of elegance in his manner that one might foolishly have mistaken for softness. Perhaps it was the white silk that draped his body, or the near-ostentatious gold jewelry which accentuated his strapping chest and heavy shoulders. But Regnier's reputation was anything but soft.

"Do you know what's worse than a healer that refuses to protect her own?" He cooed softly, sauntering closer to the woman until her face was positioned uncomfortably close to his well-defined waistline. His glare was beaming down upon the figure that waited beneath him. He stood over her, watching. Judging. Deciding whether she would live or die - or worse. Whether or not she recognized it, Regnier had become her god. So easily he could pin her back into the snow, pry her legs apart and mercilessly rape her cunt with his thick-girthed fuckspear. Or, with the snap of his finger, he could have her passed around the men that circled her, each taking an opportunity to viciously plug one of her tight holes. He could do whatever he wished with her, which had always been the destiny of women who had forgotten their place in the world.

"A woman that doesn't know where she belongs." He crouched down, back arched so that his face could hover closer to her own. She had such a pretty, innocent face, with a pair of lovely, crimson garnets that begged for mercy. "Tell me, little rabbit," his hand slowly reached out, delving underneath her chin so he could gently tip it upwards, "Do you know where you belong?" He was close enough now that the warm exhalations that left his lips brushed against her features, singeing the tip of her nose as he spoke. "Or will I need to teach you?" The hand that had softly drew her gaze upwards suddenly opened, brawny digits crudely capturing the defenseless rapebunny by her exposed neck. His large hands were capable of almost completely encapsulating his prey's dainty windpipe, fingers digging into her perfect flesh as they began to draw inwards. Tighter and tighter, until Regnier's ears would finally be graced with that familiar chorus of gagging that would be inevitably drawn between her lips. ​

"Tell me what you would do to survive, rabbit."​

 

[minccino]

ツクヨミノミコト​

​

Day forty-six.​

​

Kiyomi had been counting the days since she'd become a member of the Artemis Guild. Forty-six days. If her track record was accurate, then her time would soon expire here, because a guild never lasted for more than two months before tragedy, or some other complication, struck them. Sometimes, if she overstayed her welcome, the guild would quickly contemplate selling her to traffickers, or replacing her with a better cleric, and it was likely they would kill her after the latter. She was expandable that way, and once they found a better substitute, a woman who knew all of the guild's inner workings and travel routes was better dead than alive. Kiyomi couldn't wait until they reached that point. They had quickly run out of funds, and with most of the territory being conquered by other adventuring guilds, theirs had no choice but to play the risky game of trying to steal territory from other adventuring groups.​

​

Unfortunately, their de facto leader was either ignorant, or brazen. He'd picked a fight with the infamous Silverrend group, and it didn't take long for Kiyomi or her guild to realize that they were pathetically outmatched. The other guild mowed theirs down like a swarm of locusts across a field, covering the snow-covered plains in a sickly crimson that turned Kiyomi's gut. She'd fired off a few spells here and there, but Kiyomi realized a minute into the massacre that healing her allies was prolonging the inevitable. It would be torture, she thought, for her to bring these men back from the cusp of death, only for them to experience excruciating pain again. So, without looking back, she fled. Her legs felt boneless as she ran for her life, but her attempt at escape was futile, as a man twisted her locks into a vice grip in hand.​

​

'Heal me, you bitch! You owe me your miserable life!'​

​

The leader of the Artemis Guild had sustained multiple wounds, many of them life-threatening. He was barely hanging on, and Kiyomi suspected it was pure adrenaline that was keeping him held together at the seams. She winced, glaring back at the man who was of no use to her now. His guild lied slain across the fields, no more useful to her than they were fertilizer to the grass they bled on. She didn't owe him anything. She didn't owe anyone, except herself to survive this like she'd survived this dog-eat-dog world for twenty-six years. Just one more day. Survive one more day. Kiyomi muttered a chant under her breath between panicked pants, and a crimson ribbon wove through the man's body, like a serpent stealing his essence before transferring it to her, a last ditch effort at healing her own superficial wounds. She didn't even mutter an apology as she saw the life slipping from the man's eyes, the ember of his youth swiftly extinguished in smoldering crimson.​

​

But before she had a chance to break away, Kiyomi was flanked by two men, who swiftly retrieved her to whom she could only assume was their leader. Her heart raced like a rabbit's in her ribcage, and her ruby eyes were blown wide with fear. Just one swipe of that dagger across her throat would mean an end to everything she'd done to survive this long. No, she couldn't be taken out like this.​

​

​

Survive, survive, survive.​

​

Her brain hardly registered the gentle touch to her chin, but that rough hand around her slender throat, crushing her windpipe, was too brutal to ignore. As her fear spiked, her lungs struggled to draw in oxygen that wouldn't come. The prideful thing to do would be to fight to her death. Kick him where it hurt, scratch out his arms, spit in his face... They were all viable options for a fighter which Kiyomi was not. All she was focused on was how to survive this situation, more specifically how to appease the man before her, and soothe his ire. As her breath dwindled, Kiyomi felt something warm, something embarrassing dribble between her legs. She was so scared that she'd wetted the snow, though the few drops of her humiliation were well-concealed by her dress.​

​

Her garnet eyes filled with tears as she looked upon the handsome man before her, though his face eclipsing the moon behind him was a terrifying sight. Her hands, covered by snow-white gloves now stained with flecks of blood, reached up, gently holding the hand locked tight around her throat. "Please," she squeaked, using her last breaths to beg for mercy. "Please, s-spare me." Kiyomi gasped for breath, though she dared not to heal the bruises that were forming on her fair skin. "I belong h-here, in your hand, s-sir." There was fear that wracked her entire body, but there also reverence, and awe, as she gazed upon the face of her torturer. Truly, this man could be her demise, or the bastion she needed for the ultimate protection. If she could only work her way into his favor, she could be protected for life. There would no longer be a need to find a new home every few months, if... if she could just... ​

​

"I-I would..." she struggled for air. "I would be your r-rabbit. Your bitch." Instead of gripping his offending hand tight, she almost seemed to hold his forearm with tenderness. "I've never laid my eyes... ack... upon a man so strong... You've slain these m-men and I couldn't help but g-gaze in wonder... I-I would be honored to heal you, to heal y-your men..." Her trembling gaze evened out, the red pools of her irises like a mellow moon, an intense and rich crimson like all those of her Tsukuyomi clan. ​

​

"A-And if you so wish..." she whimpered, finding it harder and harder to breathe. "It would be a wonderful d-dream to die by your hand." Her gaze went lax, almost like she'd gone into an erotic stupor.​

​

​

Survive.

​

 

[Chevalier]

​

The pleading words that dribbled between plush, desperate lips fell upon seemingly deaf ears. With every despairing breath, the hand that encroached upon her dainty windpipe tightened further, war-calloused digits digging deeper into the flanks of the rabbit's supple neck. A thick, coarse, powerful hand, overwhelmingly constricting upon her walls, until he could see her eyes begin to roll upwards to their lids and saliva froth at the corner of her pretty lips. This was the unfortunate fate of all women in this world, to be rendered little more than objects for the amusement of powerful men. Destined to be beaten... raped - killed. After all, how could femininity ever hope to compete against such unbridled, masculine strength? Even if she kicked, scratched, spat - the outcome would have been the same. Their strength was incomparable, a pretty, crimson-eyed hare at the mercy of a dragon. But as survival seemed to become a more distant reality with every passing second, she would finally hear divine words pass judgement down upon her.

"That's a good girl."
​

Her assailant leaned in, his smooth portrait hovering dangerously close to her own, hot breaths passed between their faces as golden kaleidoscopes beamed down into her pools of crimson. Suddenly, his face shifted upwards, before his soft lips found her forehead under silvered bangs. "Remember your place." A soft whisper, followed by the gentle crash of lips upon her forehead. Though the kiss upon her forehead was tender, it came with an unspoken warning: that if she ever forgot her place, her punishment would not be nearly as soft.

"She comes back to Emmeria with us." Regnier's order was terse but clear and there would be no disagreement among the strong men that surrounded her. "A trophy, for our conquest of Artemis." He stood, turning his back away from their new captive.

"Should we bind her? What if she runs?" Even as their leader turned away, the remainder of the men kept staring at the defenseless girl, hungry, predatorial eyes ogling her blessed curves. There would be little guess to what Regnier's muscular hounds were thinking of doing to her. But like good dogs, they knew better than to indulge without the permission of their master. She was guild property now - and there were rules that she would soon be introduced to.

"Hm. I don't think that's necessary." Regnier paused, turning back to flash the new healer a mischievous, alluring smirk. "The little bunny is smarter than you give her credit for." With that, Regnier left the circle of men, melding into the shadows beyond.

"You heard him. Get up, whore." One of the men reached down to pull the silvered rabbit to her feet. "We've got a long way to Emmeria. The more you make us stare at that ass of yours, the worse it will be for you."

Some Time Later...​

By the time the Silverrend Hounds had returned from their journey, the evening moon's light had fallen and given way to the rising sun in the east, warm rays of light blanketing over the City of Emmeria. A sprawling city once known for being the seat of the long-forgotten Vaile Empire, the fall of the last Emperor hundreds of years ago left the realm in a state of turmoil - an apocalyptic land where death often prevailed over life. It was within this state of perpetual chaos that Adventurer Guilds had formed, once more bringing safety and order to the realm... at the cost of extortion, corruption and bloody rivalries.

The City of Emmeria was lively, thousands of townsfolk setting about their daily lives as if the Empire had never fallen. High walls and architecture made of stone and marble dotted the urban streets, many of which were several stories higher than even the grandest of adventurer guild halls. It was a city that only seemed to exist in fairytales and books, a city that offered safety and protection to those lucky enough to dwell within its embrace. Such grand cities were an extraordinary sight for many adventurers, as most guilds would have only held smaller villages and towns within their spheres of influence.

The members of Regnier's party drew through the city gate, which were guarded by adventurers loyal to the guild. Making their way through the labyrinthian city streets, they would finally come to face the Silverrend Guild Hall: the former Imperial Palace. A place that once housed the bloodlines of the royal family many generations ago, it had now been repurposed to serve whichever guild ruled over the proud city, its bedrooms and halls reserved for those that have been granted membership into the guild. "Don't gawk for too long." Regnier paused as the majestic doors to the Guild Hall slowly began to draw open at the presence of their owner, "Remember that you're not a princess, but a little rabbit." He raised his head, patting her silver head before leading the group inside.

Within the palace entrance, a dozen women clad in matching sets of dark, maid uniforms greeted the adventurers. They had organized themselves into neat, parallel lines of six on either side, heads slightly bowed downwards. Though they appeared like maids on the surface, on closer inspection, one would immediately notice the thin-daggered stilettos that looked almost comically difficult to balance in, along with incredibly short skirts that would have no chance of covering their rears should they dip even slightly at the waist. The only part of their outfit that would set them apart from the rest were the collars around their necks, imbued with different shapes and animals at their center. "Welcome Home, Masters." They remarked in rehearsed unison, their hands plucking the corners of their already short skirts and lifting them to reveal silk-white panties in a vulgar, misogynistic rendition (NSFW) of the traditional curtsey.

"Fuck. Finally." One of the burly adventurers stepped forward, pushing past Regnier and the rabbit so that he could single out one of the maids. "Feels like it's been a year since I've stuffed one of you whores." He approached the maid that belonged to him, a woman with raven hair, before grabbing her by the neck and slamming her backwards into the nearest wall. "You better be nice and tight, for your sake." His hands wasted no time reaching between her still lifted skirt, slithering its way between her legs.

"Y-yes Master Krell. Whatever you want..." She gasped, the glint of fear bubbling within obedient eyes. It was clear that none of these women were treated this way on their own accord... but rather because they didn't have a choice.

Regnier seemed to pay no mind to the scene unfolding in front of them, as such depravity was something commonly found within all adventurer's guilds. The Silverrend would prove no different than the rest. "Anastasia" He called, to which a blonde haired maid stepped forward from the line.

"Show the little rabbit to her room. Let her bathe if she wishes, then put her in uniform. She'll be serving food and ale to the warriors tonight." ​

"Of course, sir." The maid bowed, once again lifting her skirt for the man before her, only dropping it once his eyes had averted away from her legs. "If you would follow me, please." The maid would begin to lead the new healer away from the group, glancing back at the men behind until she was sure they were out of earshot. "Welcome to Silverrend Hall." She began as she led the rabbit down the halls which took them into the eastern wing of the palace, an area that had once been reserved as the servant's quarters during the days of the Empire. "I suppose I should teach you a thing or two about this place," She glanced to her side, noticing the myriad of bruises that ran across the new girl's neck. "Lest something like that happen to you again." She sighed, "The healers here are expected to serve the other adventurers. We do as we're told, when we're told. Rarely are we asked to ever heal... and it is forbidden to use our magic without permission." She stopped in her tracks suddenly, once again looking at the rabbit's neck, "So don't even think about healing those." She warned her, before finally moving once again.

"But there are some rules here that work in our favor." Anastasia's hand fell upon her own neck as she walked, feminine digits rolling across the metal collar that was shackled in place around her throat. "These collars show ownership. If you wear one of these, you belong to whoever's crest is etched into the metal. Only your master can touch you... abuse you." It wasn't a perfect system, but it meant that if a Healer was lucky, she could be bound to someone that wasn't as cruel as the rest of the men. "Without a collar, any man can do what they wish to you. At any moment, a man could take you - and you would be punished if you resisted." Eventually, the pair found themselves in front of the rabbit's new room. "If you want my advice, find a man that you think will collar and protect you. That is the best way to survive here." She opened the door, revealing a humble set of living arrangements within. The room was small and lackluster when compared to the rest of the palace but decent enough to raise no complaints from one who might have learned to expect less.

"Rest and bathe if you wish. I'll bring your uniform tonight and fetch you for dinner."​

 

[minccino]

ツクヨミノミコト​

​

Cruelty was something Kiyomi was unfortunately used to, so while her praise had been meant to soothe the man's ire, she fully expected the sharp sting of a backhand slap, or much, much worse. This wasn't the first time she'd been at the complete mercy of a man, after all. But when that head-ringing, cheek-burning smack didn't come, only replaced with the gentlest kiss to her forehead, Kiyomi's inky lashes fluttered open in surprise, the full, red moons of her irises gazing into Regnier's pools of liquid gold. For a split second, she felt she'd ascended to Nirvana, finding both an all-encompassing peace and comfort in that gaze like the cold embrace of death. It was oddly reassuring, even more so than the praise she earned shortly after.​

​

She stumbled in her step as she was jerked up so cruelly, her arm twisting painfully in the socket, but there were far too many bruises on her skin, and a broken rib that had been kicked in, to even think of anything else. For now, she was safe, or that was what she decidedly convinced herself of as they trekked to Emmeria.​

​

The city was as splendorous as it was described in the tales told by bards around the campfire. Kiyomi had often longed to visit such a wonderful place full of ancient history and bustling commerce, but as she walked past the stone-spire gates and eventually the glistening halls of fame, all she could see it as was a glorified prison. Gold bars were still bars, after all. She was more surprised by the stretch of the guild's influence, as she witnessed lines of well-trained maids greeting the masters home like they were returned kings from war. Kiyomi had seen men regaled like this, but not quite to this extent. Her eyes were blown wide with wonder, and it was then that she felt the unexpected pat to her head, another affectionate gesture that she couldn't quite grasp. Was the man kinder than the men that he commanded, or was it just some façade to bring down her guard? Either way, she was determined to do just the opposite.​

​

She was, for the most part, stone-faced, as one of the men in the guild shoved past the rest to rape a maid against the wall. The sights and sounds of it all were, unfortunately, stimuli that Kiyomi had long since desensitized herself to. As long as it didn't happen to her, she couldn't care less what happened to someone else.​

​

When beckoned to follow the blonde maid, Kiyomi turned to Regnier and bowed, both as thanks and to dismiss herself, then took the time alone with the maid to collect herself. She'd just escaped a harrowing life-or-death situation just hours ago so while the adrenaline had worn off, a bone-deep exhaustion settled in her petite body. She wanted ever so much to heal the unsightly bruises on her neck, or even the broken rib that constantly reminded her it was there with every jostle of every step, but she resisted the urge. To the maid, who Kiyomi deemed as just another unimportant, passing face in her life, she bowed her head in thanks. Maybe if she was criticized for being rude, she could use her crushed windpipe as an excuse for mincing her words.​

​

She wasn't feeling in the mood for idle chatter, so once the maid had gone, Kiyomi relaxed in her bath, relishing what comforts it provided her, and healing the body aches in the hottest bath the palace had to offer. The soak felt so heavenly that Kiyomi nearly drifted off to sleep with her slender legs propped on the foot of the bathtub, and her head rested against the other side. Luckily, she caught herself before her drowsiness overtook her, and even managed to doll herself up with what little supplies they had available for cosmetic wear near the simple vanity. Then came the uniform, which really was a fancy way of describing the skimpiest maid dress she'd ever seen. It felt nice to wear something lacy and light underneath for once in a long time, though. With the addition of a pair of "rabbit" ears atop her head, Kiyomi turned to stare herself in the mirror, and sighed.​

​

"Just get through today," she told herself. "You're damn good at that, if nothing else."​

​

The moment she was escorted out of her bedchambers and into the rowdy hall, Kiyomi naturally looked through the sea of people for the impressionable leader of the guild. It made perfect sense that to be protected from all fronts, she would need his collar. But, it turned out it was an easier task said than done, as she could barely make him out in the festering crowd of women he was surrounded by. It truly was a dog-eat-dog world out here, even among the females that were likely at the bottom of the food chain. ​

​

Kiyomi took the leisure she had of serving ale and food to examine the collars that other maids wore, and to eavesdrop on some of their conversations. What she learned was a little disappointing. It seemed the leader of the guild didn't fancy collaring maids or healers himself, which meant that she would have better luck trying another male member of the guild. One man after her was better than the entire guild having open access to her, after all. She needed that kind of protection more than anything at the moment, because the only collar she had on now was the ring of bruises around her neck.​

​

Kiyomi, with a tray in hand, moved past the rapidly forming crowd of girls that were eager to serve Regnier and his immediate posse of guild members. It would be in her best interests to try and capture his attention somehow, but as it stood, competition was a bit too fierce for her liking. So, when nobody was looking, she used the chaos of the stampede to stick her heel out, and trip one of the maids that was within arm's reach of Regnier's table. The mugs of ale and glasses of wine sloshed over, splashing all over the men, and Kiyomi slipped towards the end of the table, weaseling her way out of the mess. If she couldn't beat the competition head-on, she had other ways of cutting a path to her goal, eventually.​

​

"Oh, dear," she feigned surprise, setting down her drinks in front of the warriors at the other end of the table. "Is there anything else I can get you, masters?" She concealed a soft wince as one of the men, already drunk off the couple mugs of ale he'd guzzled down, grabbed her by her waist and seated her onto his lap. Kiyomi, of course, played along, slipping an arm around the man's neck and the other hand rubbing his chest in an affectionate, even comforting motion. ​

​

"Mm," Kiyomi faked a giggle, trying not to mind the man's foul breath as he burped in her face. "Tell me more about your... manly conquests," she purred, though her gleaming, ruby eyes were set on her real prize: Regnier.​

​

​

 

[Chevalier]

The banquet hall was as loud and lively as ever, the adventurers of the Silverrend Guild feasting upon the laurels of their victory over yet another rival. It was always after such events that too much ale would pass the men's lips, causing the warriors to become even more unruly and aggressive than they usually were. Regnier always sat at the head of the largest table, lazily arched into the back of his seat as crowds of serving girls attended to his every whim. They were pretty, albeit desperate creatures, each one taking obvious passes at the Guild Master with the hope that they could win a collar around their neck. To be collared by Regnier would mean that they would become untouchable - both to their peers, and especially to the men that abused them daily.

But there was one woman that had aroused the Dragon's interest. Poking out from the crowd of rowdy adventurers and scantily-clad healers, a pair of white rabbit ears skirted the outside of the group. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, wondering if she would try to stay out of sight, or join the group of girls that already surrounded him. But Regnier would find himself pleasantly surprised when she chose neither, instead making a cunning display by tripping the nearest girl, unleashing a domino effect which ended in a hurricane of broken glass and crying girls.

"You dumb whore! You healers are so fucking useless!" A warrior growled, wiping the mixed concoction of ale and wine that had splashed his beard and face. The rowdy laughter of men and boisterous cheering didn't even pause as the warriors surrounding Regnier stood from their seats, each grabbing one of the uncollared girls surrounding Regnier before ripping the girls away to the next room. Nobody seemed to pay heed to their screaming, their crying, their pleading. All of it fell upon deaf ears as the girls were dragged from the room, their fates undoubtedly at the mercy of the men that had taken them. A solemn chuckle escaped Regnier's lips, his gaze once again finding his silvered hare from within the crowd. He was surprised once again that she hadn't taken the opportunity to find him after creating such an opening, instead, nestling herself happily upon the lap of another man.

"Smart girl." He cooed to himself as he placed his elbow upon the table, head curiously rested into his hand as he watched her attempt to seduce another man. What the rabbit had failed to realize was that the men of the Silverrend Guild were of a different breed of men. A world where only the strongest survive builds a different type of adventurer - one that isn't so easily coerced by the soft-spoken venom that dribbled from a woman's lips. No, the men of the Silverrend Guild weren't the type to entertain flirtations or seduction. They were dark, powerful men, the sort that had no issue taking whatever it was that they desired. "But that's a dangerous game you're playing, Bunny."

The man that had been belching and drinking in Kiyomi's face had wasted no opportunity in getting his hands all over the woman that had presented himself. His thick, coarse hands made their way across her body, groping at the rabbit's blessed rear through her short skirt. He seemed content to touch and allow her to hang upon his lap, until the poor hare made the horrible mistake of speaking. "Manly conquests? The fuck are you talking about?" The man spat, his voice permeated with the stench of alcohol. Without warning, he stood up, pushing the rabbit from his lap before suddenly grabbing her from behind. Before she could realize what was happening, the man pushed her down against the table in front of them, unceremoniously pinning the side of her face into the horizontal surface. With her world inverted sideways, she would be able to see Regnier still sitting at the opposite end of the table, a lazy smirk drawn across his lips.

"You talk too much, Artemis whore." The drunken man kept one hand upon the back of Kiyomi's head, holding her in place as a second lifted her short skirt to reveal the silk-white undergarments that teased underneath. "You want to hear about manly conquests? How about I show you one?" He cackled, drawing his offhand backwards before bringing it down upon the rabbit's bubbled rear in a resounding 'SMACK!' the spank echoed throughout the halls, even rising above the voices of the other guildmembers. But the rabbit's punishment would not be so short. A moment after, another spank would strike her exposed ass, marring the once porcelain hue of her rump with streaks of red. "You stupid... -hic-... bitch." He struck her one more time, before his hand finally rushed to his waist, the sound of clanking metal signaling the removal of his belt. "I should-"

"That's enough, Varrus." A familiar voice beamed from across the table. Though his voice was quiet underneath the boisterous shouting of drunken men, those three words were enough to command silence to the entire hall. The banquet fell completely still, the gazes of men and serving girls alike turning towards the leader of the Guild.

"Sir. She's uncollared. I can fuck her if I wish. Those are the rules of the guild." Varrus spat, "Or am I mistaken?"

"No, you're right. By all means, go ahead and rape her." A smirk drew across Regnier's handsome lips as he stood from his seat, sauntering over towards the pair. Once he was close, a knife suddenly emerged within his hand, the blade brought upon the offending man's neck. "I'll just kill you afterwards." He whispered, just loud enough for Kiyomi and her attacker to hear, "I didn't have enough fun carving up the Artemis guild, you see." He pressed the dagger deeper into the man's neck, until a small trail of blood began to flow from the small incision.

"Grrrgh. Fine. She wasn't worth my time anyways." The man released her, before turning his back to his Guild Leader and beginning to storm off in the opposite direction.

"Get up, little rabbit." Regnier turned his glare down upon the woman beside him. "Saving you is starting to become a habit. One that I'm beginning to tire of quickly."

 

[minccino]

ツクヨミノミコト​

​

Of course.​

​

How could she have overestimated men, thinking they could go a minute without treating women like the animals they ate for dinner? Kiyomi winced as she was slammed onto the table, her cheek scraping against the rough, wooden surface. She was sure there would be a bruise there, too, maybe a fractured cheek, as the healer was naturally easy to bruise. All the men she'd prevented from raping her had loved that about her porcelain skin being so easy and fun to mark. She whimpered again, this time her lip splitting open and blood as red as her lipstick dribbling down her chin.​

​

Her face stung more than the spankings did, but Kiyomi still felt them, the man's calloused hand striking her skin like lightning, and leaving welts in their wake. She wouldn't heal from those so easily, either. The rabbit gasped, trying not to squirm for fear of disturbing her broken rib, which stung in protest underneath her tight corset. Maybe this hadn't been such a good plan, after all. She needed another plan, another way to survive... and then he came, splitting the wave of crying women with his charismatic aura, saving her from her own recklessness.​

​

But, in the end, it had worked, hadn't it? He'd come to her.​

​

Calming her heartbeat once more, she strained to pull off the table, painfully aware of the fact that all eyes were on her, now. Would that earn her the ire of all the women in this establishment? Possibly. But Kiyomi was over crying over spilled milk. Despite the fire in her chest, the aching of her sides, she stood upright, her lips pressed into a smile despite everything that had happened. It was a smile of awe and reverence, unbroken by the minute of abuse she'd received at the hands of another guild member. This was the situation she was facing now. Regnier wasn't her savior. He could very well be worse than the rest, a thousand times more if his own men feared him, but at least being under his good graces, his favor, was worth it all. Or, at least, that was the risk she was willing to take, because she was exhausted of being shattered over and over, only to be put together again.​

​

"How could I thank you?" she whispered, immediately dropping to her knees and gazing up at Regnier, like he was her red moon. "You've saved me twice in one day, you're as gracious as you are breath-taking." If other maids thought curtsying a little lewdly was a cut to their pride, Kiyomi would go the whole nine yards, presenting her pride to him like her heart on a silver platter.​

​

"What could a little rabbit like me do to have your hand around my neck again, Master?" Kiyomi pleaded, her own hands lifting to caress her own bruised throat, as if to mimic the feeling of raw power that she'd felt with his hands locked tight around it, crushing her dainty windpipe. And because he'd commanded it of her, she rose once her dramatic show of utter submission was done.​

​

 

[Chevalier]

​

There was but a single moment, fleeting and transient, that Regnier wanted to slap the little rabbit across her pretty face. Not out of malice or hatred, but because her display of obedience was so overwhelmingly submissive that he almost took it for sarcasm. But as she pleaded so desperately upon her knees, with her hands wrapping around the bruises he had left upon her throat... Regnier could see it. That unbridled fear that lay deep within her crimson irises, hidden deep underneath her awe. Normally, Regnier paid no attention to the Healers in his guild, their existence a mere sample of his power for him to entice loyalty from his men. But the silvered hare was different. From the moment he had laid eyes upon her, he had been utterly entranced.

"And you think that because I've saved you, that I have any interest in you?" As she rose to her feet, the Guild Leader took a step closer, his towering stature becoming alarmingly more apparent. A large hand delved downwards, moving to capture her supple chin between two digits. He curled her gaze upward, so that he could more readily gaze into those vibrant, scarlet pools which stared back at him. "You could be more honest, little rabbit. I know that it is not my hand you seek around your neck, but a metal collar," Regnier was no fool, he knew exactly what it was that his hare yearned for. It was not him. - but the idea of him. The idea that she would always be protected, the idea that she would only have to worry about the ire of a single man, to have a collar around her neck would be security as much as ownership... and she chose him, because he was the strongest.

But perhaps, Regnier could make an honest woman out of his little rabbit.​

"Come." His command was but a single word, but still wielding the reverence of a god. As Regnier turned back towards his spot at the table, the room took their attentions away from the pair, once again returning to boisterous laughter and drunkenness amongst themselves. He led her back to his seat, which had become surprisingly private with the absence of rowdy warriors and wanton healers surrounding it. It wasn't until he had settled back into his seat that his powerful hand patted down his lap, beckoning for the rabbit to take her place upon it. "Straddle me," He wanted his hare to climb into his lap, legs spread wide over his muscled legs with only fabric separating needy, desperate sex. "You want everyone to see who you truly belong to, don't you?" He leaned lazily back into his seat, the very corners of his lips curling slightly upwards,

"Then make a good show of it, bunny." ​

 

[minccino]

ツクヨミノミコト​

​

As Regnier stood over her, a towering shadow over her petite form, Kiyomi couldn't help but stare in awe. She'd worked herself into mens' charms by way of smooth-talking, but her idolization in this case came from a place of sincerity. She wasn't embarrassed to bow, and submit to true, raw power, and that was what she saw in Regnier, who stood now as a bastion of salvation, strong enough to whisk her from her living nightmare. And even if it wasn't so, Kiyomi thought she'd never seen a more handsome face, a man so charismatic that even his voice soothed her at the same time it struck fear in her rabbit heart. It surely wouldn't be such a bitter end to die by his hand. It would even feel like a sweet release.​

​

"Isn't it the same?" she whispered, her ruby-red eyes twinkling with adoration for the man before her. "Your hand of mercy, isn't it the same as a metal collar, if not better?" Her cut lip curled into a vulpine smile, though she didn't question his demands any further and followed him to his seat.​

​

There, she straddled his waist, and without a moment's hesitation, as if the other patrons of the hall didn't exist, she unlaced the front of her dress, letting her cleavage show only to the man she was sitting on, while the soft mound of her pussy ground against his crotch. Even if she'd never felt what it was like to be taken by a man, Kiyomi felt a flare of lust, and even desire, as her cunt kissed whatever solid surface she could dry-hump herself over. Still, she hadn't been given permission to touch him in that way, or even undress a piece of clothing on him, so she refrained from being hasty.​

​

"I do," she moaned. "I've been thinking about it, ever since your hand gripped my throat, how wonderful it felt." Her expression looked sexed-out and delirious, almost like she'd slipped into a headspace of complete submission and reverence for Regnier. "I can't stop thinking about it, Master. Your hands on me, everywhere." She pressed her clit to him, rubbing it raw on his pants with a wild, shameless bucking motion of her hips, the curve of her spine accenting the whorish posture she took on his lap. As she wagged her hips, so did the fluffy tail on the back of her panties that flashed every time the back of her dress flared up.​

​

"Please, please," she begged. "I wish I had more holes in my body to please you, sir, but I only have these three." Kiyomi made an example of just how desperate she was, her fingers reaching her front to lift her skirt, showing Regnier just how damp her panties were, when they had been spotlessly dry just a moment ago with the other guild member.​

 

[Chevalier]

​

The leader of the violent Silverrend Guild sat leisurely upon his seat, seemingly content to enjoy the company of his newest lap pet as honey-coated praise dribbled from her soft, pillowed lips. As much as the towering male was wary of the cunning rabbit's sultry-spoken worship, there existed a weakness deep within him that plagued the hearts of all men: narcissism. Whether they admitted to it or not, all men desired power, to be treated as a god and worshipped by the prettiest of women. Regnier was aware of his carnal desires, and still, incapable of resisting them.

"So eager to please. Perhaps I've underestimated you, little rabbit." He bit at his lower lip, watching with possessiveness wrapped within his gaze as the cunning hare parted the front of her dress before her master. Her blessed cleavage pooled out for him, teasing breasts happily greeting the man most worthy to claim them. He wasted no time capturing them between his large, masculine palms, calloused fingertips outstretched to squeeze the feminine pillows that peaked out from beneath her bra. His grip upon her chest was firm and objectifying, the top of her cleavage pancaking between the powerful digits that clawed into her. Such obscene, over-stacked tits were a reminder that women would always be inferior. That their entire fucking existence had always been to kneel beneath a man and polish the writhing mass of flesh that could shatter whatever pride that they might have foolishly clung to.

With his hands still upon her chest, he allowed the whorish rabbit to dry-hump herself stupid, her needy cunt drooling slick layers of nectar-sweet arousal upon his rising mound with every thrust of her hips. A grimace formed upon his lips as his his rabbit moaned like a happy little slut for her master, her drenched silk panties gliding back and forth as if her life depended upon it. With every movement, Regnier could feel himself hardening, the shape at the base of his pants becoming more rigid with every passing moment. Even through layers of fabric, he could feel her lips suckling upon his the underside of his growing shaft.

"Are you sure this is what you want? Make no mistake," His lips curled into a devilish smirk, before hovering closer to her ear so that he could deliver a breathy whisper into it, "I will break you, fuckbunny."

He would give her barely a passing moment to think about his words, the Dragon wrapping his muscled arms around the back of Kiyomi's frame before standing up. Effortlessly, he moved her petite frame as if she was a feather, until she found herself cradled in his arms, exposed legs dangling off to the side with her head against his shoulder. He wanted to take her somewhere more private, a place where he could better enjoy the squeals and moans he planned to vigorously pound from her lips. He carried her from the banquet hall, his arms surrendering not even a moment of weakness under her weight as they rounded several corridors. It wasn't long until he was pushing his way into his bedchambers, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he carried her to the center of the room.

It was then that he placed her upon the daggered stilettos that had been practically designed to make walking as difficult as it was seductive, his now freed hands pushing the rabbit downwards before one tightly wound itself upon her silvered locks. "No, not on your knees. I want to see you balance on those heels, bunny." He tugged gently upon her hair, until she would have no choice but to comply. He wanted his rabbit to dedicate her entire body weight and stability upon her legs, elegantly bending down her thick thighs in order to become symmetrical with her hamstrings, five-inch heels held perfectly steady in place. He wanted to watch her as she gently and ever so gracefully pushed her entire weight down into her legs, weighing down her ivory pillows of perfection as she balanced herself at crotch level. He wanted her to squat like an obedient bitch before her master.

It was only after she had been properly positioned that his hands made their way to his waist. As his pants dipped downwards, the little rabbit would finally meet her true master. A thick, gigantuous shadow smothered her crimson gemstones, pretty features disappearing underneath the throbbing fucklog that jutted out from his waist. Wrist-thick, with a mass of visible, cable-thick veins that pulsated across his shaft, leading up to an engorged, upreared cockhead that eagerly waited for a slick, tight hole to vigorously plug. He gave pause for several moments, basking in whatever awe that struck his rabbit's gaze as it was blessed with its first glance upon his overwhelming, vein-throbbing daddydick. That mass of sweltering flesh that could never hope to fit into just one of her hands, Regnier wanted to see the mixture of utter subservience and fear that would take her upon eyeing such magnificence.

"You wanted to please me, did you not?" Regnier grunted, almost impatiently, "So please me."