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Unnamed Mousie - Part 1: The Longest Day - Chapter 3: Enslaved

© 2015 - 2018 Nameless

We passed through a gate and crossed a drawbridge (a proper one this time), walked a short way around the curving wall until the path widened into another courtyard. At the far end, nestled against a low wall was a big barn, towards which we walked. The Hessan soldier who led me stopped about halfway there and turned to me. He pointed at the gate of the barn, which was open just far enough for a fur to squeeze in, and commanded, "Walk there. Three paces before you reach the door you drop to your knees. Crawl in and kneel where you are told. Do not touch the drape. Do you understand, little slut?" Most of the open entrance was closed off by heavy cloth, leaving an opening less than two foot high. I nodded. Suddenly he leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, "I suggest you kneel in the position your master showed you earlier." A moment later he commanded, "Go." slapping my rump, quite hard, it stung but I realized that the slap had been more playful than intended to be actually painful. My mind was still numb from my ordeal and I obeyed his commands without even thinking about them, I walked a few paces, dropped to my knees and crawled the rest of the way. Once inside I was blind for a moment. I had been out in the bright midday sun for what felt like forever and it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. A harsh male voice commanded, "Kneel there." Still blinded I crawled slowly in the direction from which I had heard the voice. When the command was repeated a second time, I could finally make out the fur who had given it and see where he pointed. It was a big Hessan with a weapon in his paw. I could not see it well enough to tell if it was a sword or a cudgel, but at the moment that made little difference, whatever it was, I didn't want to give him any reason to use it on me. I crawled to the indicated spot as quickly as I could. When I reached the spot he had indicated he commanded, "Kneel and face that way." pointing at the far wall. Once I had obeyed his commands he walked away, apparently ignoring me. I wondered if my former keeper had been trying to help me with his whispered advice or invited me to make things harder for myself. Still, kneeling the way my master had told me to earlier seemed like a good idea, or at least a safe one. Trying to remember my master's commands, I shifted my position until it matched what I remembered. It seemed to have been a lifetime ago although I knew that it could have not been more than a bell, two at most, but probably less than that, since I had been released from the tiny cell. The first thing I noticed, as soon as I reached the spot where I was to kneel, was that the ground was unpleasantly, even painfully rough. It was packed earth with enough pebbles and small stones poking out of the surface that no matter how I placed my legs at least half a dozen poked my knees, shins and the arch of my feet. I shifted my legs minutely (I didn't dare to move them much more than that once I had assumed my position) to take the pressure off the spot where a stone hurt especially badly. But no matter which way I shifted another pebble would take its place. Slowly my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light and I began to make sense of my surroundings. Several Hessans stood guard over us, sometimes standing still, sometimes moving around. They all had weapons in their paws. Most carried cudgels but they also had a sword and a nasty looking hooked dagger dangling from their belts. Whenever two met they talked for a few moments. Their voices were low, but in the quiet surroundings they were easy to understand. I would really have preferred not to understand them, unsurprisingly what they said were mostly lewd and derogatory comments aimed at us. They also chuckled and laughed, of course. Perhaps because I was the latest to be brought here a lot of the comments were aimed my way. 'Slut' was about the nicest thing they called me. Those comments hurt, but not as much as they might have had my mind not been numb and reeling from the ordeal before. Much worse and more terrifying were their speculations, wondering which of my holes would bring them the most fun, how loud and high-pitched I would scream when (and they clearly used the word 'when' and not 'if') I was cut, which parts would be most fun to cut off first and how many they might be able to cut off before I bled out. And whether the dogs would eat my carcass or if they would have to leave me to the crows. Well, not all those were directed specifically at me, but I was certain that they would be applied to whoever of us gave them the least offense. Assuming they were not planning to do all those horrible things to us anyway. I shivered any prayed that submitting to the human male would spare me the torture and the horrible death their comments promised. Several furs where kneeling on the other side of the barn, facing towards me. There were also furs kneeling alongside me, and if I interpreted the slight noises correctly, also behind me. We were kneeling along the long sides of the barn. Not all the furs were female, one of the furs opposite me, in the second row, furthest inside the barn was undoubtedly male. And hauntingly familiar. He wasn't from my unit, but I had seen him before. He must have been from one of the other units, perhaps the spearmen we had fought alongside yesterday. Near the far end, opposite the door, sat a human. It was not easy to see, but as best as I could tell, he looked younger than the one that had enslaved me. He wore a similar robe, but it was less decorated. His head was bare and he had dark, perhaps even black headfur. He looked as if he was an apprentice or aide to the older human. An empty chair stood in front of the table, as best as I could tell it stood exactly on the center-line of the barn. It was a grand thing, not quite a throne, but close and it looked expensive. On the other side, right next to the chair knelt a female fur. She seemed familiar. It took me a bit but eventually I recognized her as the serf who had brought us dinner last night. Today she was attired just like me and the other kneeling furs in the room, or as the case was, not attired. She wore a collar and nothing else, just like us. I could not see the collar I wore, of course, but all the furs facing me wore an identical one. A simple unmarked iron loop with a circular disk at the front. The symbols on the disk looked similar to the ones my master had worn on his hat. With a shiver of fear I concluded that this marked us as his property. Hopefully this meant that I would not be left to the mercies of the Hessans. The rodent femme's collar was different in some respects. There were a few symbols on either side of the disk and on the right side (as I saw it) was a dark splotch. It was too dark to be rust, so it had to be deliberate, but I had no idea as to its purpose. After a moment an idea struck me and I looked more carefully at the femme. Certain, or at least hoping, that she had served our master longer and that she would know better how he expected us to kneel, I noted her posture and adjusted mine to match hers as best as I could. She stood up suddenly, picked up a bowl from the table and approached me. She put the bowl on the ground in front of me. Her eyes were just as flat and empty as they had been yesterday. I shivered a little when I noticed the welts on her body. After only a moment's hesitation I leaned forward. The bowl was placed exactly where I could get at it easily in this position and I lapped up the water, what little there was of it, grateful for every drop. Just like the water I had been given before it left a faint aftertaste. For a moment I wondered if they had put something in it or if the water here in Hessa just tasted differently. Once I had struggled back into the proper kneeling position she picked up the bowl and returned it to the table. She refilled the bowl from a jug and then returned to where she had been kneeling before. All of this without making a single sound except for the slight rustling of her fur as she walked.

Suddenly the faint noises coming in from outside changed, though it took me a little to figure out. Instead of the clanging sounds of the weapon practice I had been hearing up to now, there was silence interspersed with laughter and catcalls. After a while the former noises resumed. Only when a naked female fur, a mixed breed dog, crawled into the barn did I make sense of what I had heard. Just like me she had been humiliated in front of the troop of training Hessans. I had no idea if she had gone through the same things I had, but once I got a better look at her I decided that it must have been something similar. Whatever it had been it must have been just as devastating for her as my own ordeal had been for me. She was directed to kneel on the other side of the barn, not quite opposite me. With a shock I recognized her, she was not from my squad but she shared my barrack and I knew her quite well. Her eyes shocked me. They had always been so full of life and joy, now they were wide and empty at the same time. The way she looked made me fear for her sanity. And it made me wonder if I looked the same way. Every now and then she twitched or shivered. I had a really miserable time. The air was cool. No, it wasn't really too cold, but the ground seemed to soak up my body heat and since I didn't dare to move there was no way I could fight the cold slowly creeping into my bones. My legs hurt more with every minute and every attempt to relieve one tortured spot only brought me two more. My muscles started cramping and trembling with fatigue from the constant strain of holding my position. And my stomach was an empty hole in my belly, screaming to be filled. It had been almost a full day since I had last eaten anything and almost two days since I had a full meal. Once I had examined my surroundings as best as I could without moving I had time to think. I had a lot of time, too much time. By now the fog had mostly lifted from my mind, even if I was still emotionally numb. Every now and then another fur came in. Most crawled to the assigned spot on their own, but a few had to be prodded or carried. But it took a long time before our ranks were complete, I counted three more bells. At some point I noticed that the ground in the middle of the barn was remarkably free of pebbles and stones. Looking at the ground in front of me I realized that the pebbles formed a rough circle around the spot where I knelt. There was no clear dividing line between the circle and the smoother earth around but the stones petered out slowly, making the dividing line less obvious. Looking around I could soon tell that each of us knelt in the center of such a circle. They must have placed the stones deliberately to cause us extra pain! On the other side of the barn were two rows of six such circles, as best as I could tell there were just as many on my side, for a total of twenty-four. There had been twelve stalls in the caravan wagon I had been in yesterday! So apparently they had two such wagons to fill with slaves. My place was in the front row of the fourth column, if the columns were counted from the back of the barn. Killing prisoners was not unknown, particularly in the age-old and hate-filled conflict between Arno and Hessa, but selling prisoners as slaves was. According to church doctrine it was a terrible sin, slavery was reserved for real criminals. Suddenly I realized why they had covered our heads with sacks: So none of us could be sure how many of use had been taken prisoner or know who had been taken and who had been killed in the fighting. We had been split off from the rest of the prisoners and none of our officers would ever know know about it, even after the rest of the prisoners were finally ransomed back. I had a lot of time to think. I tried my best no to think about what my future might hold, or if I had any future at all, apart from a very short one full of pain and terror. No matter what I tried, sooner or later my mind would return to this question. One question that I also soon reared was if my master had known about what they had done to me after he left or not. It did not take me long to decide that he had, at least in general terms. For one, now that I could think about it, the whole thing had been too deliberate. They had not fucked me with their fingers just to have fun but they had done it so they could inflict that, for me at least, much greater humiliation in front of a whole troop. My master would have had little problem to enlist the Hessan's aid, it would probably have been more difficult to keep them from hurting us too much. For another my master had given the keeper a command before he left. At the time I had thought he simply meant that they should kill me, but now it was clear to me that he had referred to earlier instructions. And slimy or not, our master looked like a man who was accustomed to be obeyed. And it seemed likely that he had friends in high places. Figuring out that the whole ordeal had been orchestrated made me feel a lot better. What still rankled and tore at my soul was how quickly my body had betrayed me, how only a few touches had been needed to get me to the edge of a climax, how desperately I had pleaded for a mortal enemy to keep playing with me. Thinking about these things, I noticed with disgust that I was still aroused. I must have been here for a bell at least, without any stimulation at all, but the fire in my belly still burned. It was banked but still all too alive. My nipples were still swollen with blood. And I could smell my arousal. Not just the, by now, mostly dried juices from before, but my slit was still wet and hot. And once I thought about it, I could smell that others around me were aroused as well. The scents were faint but unmistakable. Idly I wondered if the male or males (so far I could only seen one) had gone through a similar ordeal. At first I wondered how my master would have managed to get the Hessans to cooperate with that. After all, few males I knew liked to touch another male intimately. It didn't take me long to come up with the disturbing answer. Getting touched against his will by another male would likely be extremely humiliating for most males. Getting the Hessan's cooperation would be easy as long as you assumed that their main goal was to hurt and humiliate us. I didn't know all that much about prisons, but they were generally considered to be a really bad place to be in. A warden's main duty might be to prevent the prisoners from escaping but hurting and humiliating them was probably close to the top of the list of additional duties. It didn't take long before my musings were confirmed. The next fur to crawl in was a male fox. He crawled to his assigned spot, opposite me in the first row, one column closer to the table, without prodding and assumed his position. I knew him, he was also in the Light Slingers but in another squad. I cringed when I saw him. His male member was hard and the fur on his belly and was matted, slick with cum, likely his own. The fur on his face was just as wet and matted, as was his headfur. It looked as if he had sucked off another male who had pulled out at the last moment to spray cum all over the face. Much worse than his soiled fur were his eyes, empty, almost unseeing. His body swayed a little, he trembled and while he didn't, or more likely couldn't, make any noise his breath was ragged as if he was crying. With no little shock I realized that I had been lucky, while I had been hurt and hurt deeply, he looked as if they had almost destroyed him, possibly even driven him insane, at least for the moment. I had to force myself to look away. For the thousandth time my legs shifted, desperately but unsuccessfully trying to relieve the pain. At a short command from the assistant the rodent femme got up and passed out more water. There was only the one bowl so we got to lap up the water one by one. When she was done she returned to her place at the side of the chair.

The big double door was suddenly opened, not very far, but much farther than before and the drape was removed. My heart skipped a beat when I saw who entered: My master. I couldn't say if it was from terror or relief. He walked down the center towards the chair. He seemed to pay no attention to us, but once I saw his eyes flicker this way or that. My nose dipped deeper and my eyes looked as far down as they could. I prayed that he had not noticed the minute movement or if he had noticed he had hopefully seen it as a sign of my submission. I could still see him, if only the legs. As he neared the chair the female rodent kneeling there assumed the 'begging' position. He commanded, "Look at me." My head swiveled up and to my left. He said something to his assistant, who stood up. A shiver of terror ran down my spine when I noticed the wand in his paw. The assistant walked down the length of the barn slowly, pointing the wand at each one of us in turn. I felt nothing when it was pointed at me, but I saw dark splotches appear on the collar of several furs. The marked furs had felt something, I could tell that from the way the expression on their faces changed, and it had not been pleasant. With a start I realized that all the marked furs had not knelt in the position our master had told us to use earlier. I gave a silent prayer of thanks for the whispered warning that had kept me from making the same mistake. When the assistant was done he returned to his seat at the table. My master looked at us for a long time and then he started speaking, "You have all had a chance to enjoy the hospitality of our Hessan hosts. Think carefully if you still want to serve me, surrender your mind, body and soul to me, to be my slave. Or if you prefer to trust your fate to these gentlemen. Think about it carefully."

He stood up and turned around, his shoes kicked the female slave's face. She started lapping at the shoes. Suddenly there was the sound of a whip hitting skin. I had not noticed the first stroke, but now I saw the whip, a short handle with many knotted leather straps when he raised it once more. He brought it down again, harder than before. The female kept licking as if nothing had happened. He kept whipping her, slowly, idly pausing between the strokes. She grunted in pain every now and then she cried out, the urgency in her voice hinting at the extremity of the pain, but her tongue never stopped touching the shoes for more than a moment. Eventually he stepped back. He barked a short command (it was a word I didn't know, likely from his foreign language). She answered, the pain in her voice was obvious. I didn't understand her answer either, but if I had to guess at the meaning it was something like 'Thank you, Master.'). Only then did she lift her face from the ground and returned to her kneeling position. My master sat down again. He gestured at her and gave her anther short command that I couldn't understand. The femme put her wrists behind her back, got up and walked out of the barn. My breath caught when I she passed me and I caught her scent. I could smell her arousal clearly. I couldn't tell if she had climaxed or not, but if not she had been close. But underneath I caught another scent, that of blood. It was so faint I couldn't be entirely sure, but in my belly I knew it was there. He must have whipped her badly. And yet she had almost come. And she had thanked her master for the whipping and now she was walking away as if nothing had happened. I wondered what she had done to deserve such treatment. The next thought made me shudder, if it might be me instead of her, suffering through this. Or when. For a moment I wondered if I might not been better off in the Hessan's paws. Suddenly there was a burst of laughter from the outside, from a number of furs and it had an undeniable edge of cruelty to it, reminding me why I didn't want to fall into the paws of the Hessans. Our master got up and walked forward until he stood in front of the first fur on my side of the barn, a female cat. He asked, "Do you want to be my slave?" She stared up at him, emotions warring on her face. It took only a few moments for her resistance to crumble and she prostrated herself. He let her wait for a long moment before he stepped forward, nudging her head with the tip of his right shoe. After barely more than a minute he stepped back. When she tried to raise her head off the floor, he stopped her head with his right foot. He didn't hurt her, he just touched the sole to her muzzle. After a moment she got the point and she pressed her brow against the ground. His sole pressed down on her head for a moment more. Then he walked around her. He slapped her raised ass hard, twice, once on each cheek. Then his paw reached between her legs, obviously fondling her exposed sex for a few moments. Her body shuddered once but otherwise she did not move. A moment later our master stood in front of the next fur. He didn't say anything but she got the point and prostrated herself. He let her lick his shoes and when he stepped back her face returned to the floor without any command. As before he stepped around her, smacking her ass and fondling her. The whole thing took place in silence apart from the slaps. He moved on to the next fur, repeating the whole procedure. And then it was my turn. As they had, I prostrated myself. My breath hissed out of my mouth in pain, the pebbles on the ground dug into the skin of my face and breasts. The change in position had finally relieved the pressure of the pebbles on my shins and feet. But now much of my weight rested on my breasts and face, where my skin was far more sensitive. When the shoes were presented to me, I lapped at them obediently. I hated myself for doing it. What hurt my soul the most was the relief I felt as I surrendered my freedom, placed myself in our master's paws and hopefully under his protection. The slaps on my ass were painful, but I hardly noticed them. His fingers felt so wonderful inside me, it seemed that they filled me completely, touching every sensitive spot inside me at the same time. My heart sped up; by the time he pulled his fingers out I was panting from arousal. His missing fingers left behind an almost painful emptiness. I hated myself for feeling this way and even worse for wanting him to touch me again. I wanted it so badly I would have gladly licked his shoes for just another touch. I couldn't see much after that, but I didn't really need to. Every now and then I could make out my master's steps or the slurping noises of a particularly enthusiastic (or cowed) slave to be, then the slaps and the hissing noises as they reacted to the pain and pleasure he dealt out. When it was done I heard him walk back to his chair.

He sat down and waited. Not all that long, just long enough for me to get anxious and worried. He commanded, "Look at me. Keep your tits on the floor." I obeyed. The change in position took most of the pressure off my muzzle (but now a few pebbles dug into the underside of my jaw) but the movement doubled the pain in my breasts as they shifted over the rough floor and had to support even more of my weight. He waited until he had our undivided attention and then a little more before he spoke again in his little oily voice, "All of you have begged me to accept you as my slaves. You have begged me to accept you, most of you willingly and gladly, some perhaps less so. But you have begged sincerely and thus it is my duty to accept you. I have accepted your selfless offer to serve me, I have accepted you as my slaves." I (and likely all the others) bristled at that, but I didn't dare to do anything, not that it would have helped, it would only have brought punishment. "You are now free!" I looked at him incredulously, for a moment I felt like cheering, but then he went on, "You are free of all previous obligations. Whatever happened in your life up to this point does not matter any more. You are free to serve me and to please me, your master, with your body, with all your heart and soul. If and when you wish it, I will guide you and teach you how to serve me better and how to please me perfectly." He let that sink in for a while before he went on, "And now we will have a little ceremony to free you of the troubles of your past and to celebrate the start of your bright new life." He clapped his paws three times.