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#1 of Chloe Wintermane

Soft flesh covered in snow-white fur tightened as Lord Tally trussed his most prized slave like a fancy gift. The gruff older hyena, dirty white striped with charcoal and sporting a paternal beard and a regal paunch, wore only a red silken robe, tied but otherwise making no effort to disguise his naked arousal, and he salivated as he expertly tied a knot of pink rope. The knot was one of many he had made, painstakingly, over the course of the last hour or so, along the magnificent prone form of his most prized slave, Chloe Wintermane, former princess of the Arkani. By now he had begun at her back and worked his way down, tying a stable harness that rested on her clavicle away from her vulnerable neck and working his way down, criss-crossed between back and front points and tying her torso in an elegant karada that ended one knot early, taking care not to provide any obstruction to her groin, which housed its own secrets. Instead, the rigging hooked lower, to a series of trusses connecting her thighs, and would eventually stripe down her elegant legs down to her calves and bind her ankles and paws. The Lord Tally of Iremont, Broderick, had seen the exotic techniques of the rope-binders of Yshtai, east beyond the savage lands, and rather than temporarily rent the services of one of their riggers, he had purchased one outright, gave him shelter and food and gold, and in return was taught everything the rigger had to teach. Judging by the blush on the face of the stunning white wolf whose face was pressed almost into the bed but who, through her bonds, had no choice but to expose her voluptuous ass and chastity-pierced pussy to her master, Tally was reassured that he was in no danger of losing his touch.

Chloe panted, wiggling in place but making sure not to throw her body to either side for fear of yanking much of her rigging painfully taut. "H-how much longer, master? Surely at this point every inch of me is pulled tight enough for your liking?" She wondered what the end-goal of this elaborate, almost-beautiful bondage was - if he simply needed her prone with her ass out like a dog in heat he would order it, and the cage of ropes was not quite painful or pleasurable enough on its own to be his game, if she had a handle on his tastes like she thought she had. More than anything the ropes were constant, never leaving a moment where her mind wasn't darting from one mildly painful tight spot to another, and the overall effect of not being able to get away from that constant stimulus was a familiar-by-now horny buzz, discomfort that slowly bumped up her endorphins until she shamefully felt moisture on her thighs from her arousal, sure that her master was watching her grow wetter and needier and smiling a fanged grin.

Lord Tally, after a long couple of moments of continued silent tying, finished the last knot in the extensive full body karada, that ran across the sensitive soles of Chloe's paws, binding them together and tightening any time she tried to move away from the stimulus. To make certain his handiwork was sound, the burly hyena pressed one clawed finger in the center of one of the wolf's ebony paw pads, and watched her reflexively curl around it, only for the movement to tighten her sole bindings, and in her reaction to it ended up pulling at several other points of pressure along the ropes that left her panting and whimpering with need. "Ah, I do love watching that. You make quite the present wrapped tight like this, pet." Smirking at the embers of defiance in her eyes that arousal couldn't quite snuff out, he reeled an arm back and gave her ample snow-furred ass a hearty slap, earning a full-throated moan that only increased in volume as she reflexively tensed and knots all over her perfect form tensed with her, overwhelming her with stimulation. "Don't underestimate the tie, dear slut. That rush is a fraction of what's in store once you're too tired or pleasured not to let some of your pretty outfit go slack and make everything tug against your sensitive flesh, over and over." He cupped a paw over her sealed entrance, gold rings with clever magecraft to them that ensured that should he so choose, she could edge forever but never cum, or at his command release and rock her with vision-splitting orgasm, and the cunning red ribbons that laced between the three rings on either side ensured that the virgin princess would remain his virgin whore, forever. "Judging by how you've soaked right through your ribbons, I'd say the prospect of that entices you, despite that defiant look."

Bound though she was, the lord Tally was a man of particular tastes, and he was far from done. He paced the bed, around to her front, and brought her head up as high as she could really lift from her position to meet his gaze. Her eyes spoke to the discomfort, pain even of the tight karada, but he had thus far trained her as thoroughly as any of his possessions - with her flower sealed off, save a hole to piss from and her clit which he had had pierced with a delicate chain (ending in a bell that was magecraft as well and sealed any pleasure from it unless he touched it himself) she had been taught all the other pleasures of her body. He had thoroughly trained her ass and her throat, though the white wolf was a natural and without much coaxing could cum shaking just from having her tight pink pucker stretched out, filled. He had begun teaching her soft skin how pain could be pleasure, could leave one begging for more, and his budding masochist would not yet give it voice but every time he watched her cum from being spanked red, or her pierced nipples gently pulled at, or from having him whip her paws with thin sturdy reeds, her expression quite clearly told him "thank you". Smiling at how far his prized purchase had come in so short a time, he pressed a thumb at the corner of her mouth, and when she recognized his goal and obediently opened her lips, he pushed a smooth round gag of rubberwood into her open maw. It was large enough that Chloe could not close her lips again, especially when he secured its leather straps first behind her head, then a second ring across the bridge of her muzzle, securing the ball in place and showing her canines uselessly locked over it. "We'll have quiet for a bit, I think."

"Percy!" he called out into the room, and one of his servants, a feminine rabbit boy whose binding gear jingled under his formless shift that flowed loose about him and gave glimpses of his body underneath, was immediately at attention. The boy, however, did not speak, and in fact could not, any longer. "You'd had them test the anchor points today as I'd ordered?" The bunny nodded, pointing to the ceiling where Chloe's eyes could not follow, to three hooks bolted into the stone as securely as they could have managed. "And the cords held? Actually, never you mind that, if they had not and someone had been injured, I would have been told immediately, no one would be foolish enough to hide such a matter from me." Percy nodded again, smiling in agreement that none in the lord's employ or owned by him would. "Good. Leave us, then." The slave knelt and bowed his head, unquestioningly loyal, and padded away on quiet paws.

Broderick returned to his princess-slave, trussed up like a game deer and straining around the large gag, making noises but not words. "You've been tied up a number of times, enough that it's surely old hat by now... but today I've something new in mind." From the wall, he retrieved a similarly dyed rope that had been pinned up, seemingly unimportant, something she hadn't even noticed when she was brought in, that ended in a bundle of three open bits of looped-in secured ropes, seemingly meant to tie it to something else. When he removed it from the wall hook, it did not fall, and seeming to be anchored to something in the ceiling that could rotate but not move place to place, and her eyes went wide as she connected the dots. "I knew I hadn't underestimated your cleverness, pet. Today you slip the surly bonds of earth entirely." He chuckled a little too hard at his own private joke as he pressed his weight against her back a bit, pressing her pale perfect breasts into the feathery mattress as he tied the bundle of ropes left at the end of the long one that went to the ceiling to her wrists, which had earlier been pinned behind her back and secured to the rest of her karada, which she was realizing all at once was the harness point for the whole thing to lift her. Once the dexterous lord was confident in his tie, he stood back up and returned to the wall, leaving her feeling curiously nothing new yet - but the rope was still slack, after all. Chloe was able to turn her head to look at him just as he wrapped his hand around the slack rope and yanked it, and suddenly she was no longer resting on solid ground.

It wasn't far, that she was lifted. It was perhaps a foot. In fact, her knees and her unsupported breasts could still touch the mattress to some degree. But it didn't need to be six feet in the air, or anything crazy like that, for the character of her bindings to entirely change on her. Suddenly the feeling of tightness against her flesh that felt like it rocked from one place to the next as she instinctively tried to relax whichever spot felt the tightest was everywhere, not quite cutting into her (ropes thankfully designed to prevent that sort of thing) but making her struggle frantically, searching for some way she could turn to get away from the discomfort, making desperate noises into the unfeeling rubberwood gag. If she hadn't been understandably preoccupied, she would have been able to watch her master loop the part of the rope he had pulled back through the hook and flip another side of it closed and latched, forming a tight metal ring pinning the rope where he wanted and leaving his beloved slave dangling. His snowy rope bunny keenly feeling the effects of his handiwork, he simply watched her struggle, pleased with his work, seemingly waiting for something.

That something was a not-at-all subtle change in his pet's body language, her face, and he grinned when he saw it. After a few intense moments where the girl's body fought hard against her bonds, full of adrenaline and convinced its life was endangered, it predictably subsided. The body could not remain on full adrenaline, fight-or-flight, for too terribly long, and in the face of constant semi-painful stimulus like this it turned from a boil to a simmer. And once she was no longer struggling, simply worn out from doing so and embracing the tightness that pulled at her body like a too-tight lover's squeeze, what he knew she would notice was left was...

"Ah, there's the expression I love so much. You always fight so much at the start, especially when it's something new and you somehow still think I'm going to do you irreparable harm. But once you exhaust yourself and accept the constant tightness, the pain, look at all those wonderful other feelings you find!" He paced around to her front, finding her eyes no longer screwed shut with pain but open, rolled back a bit, every part of her that could relax still relaxed despite no actual change in her bonds. The counterpart to pain, especially the sort of pain that was useful sexually, was an intense flood of endorphins, dwarfing spicy food and sometimes almost approaching the amount an orgasm released. It certainly wasn't that his beloved pet, dangling as she was like some perverse chandelier, was no longer in pain - merely that her brain, as well-trained as it is, was primed to feel it without drawing away, to focus on the full-body sense of wellness that it swam in. "When I met you, I could not believe what a natural you were at finding joy in pain. Someone so newly adult, virginal, pure as the driven snow? But I remember watching them bring you out and affixing steel clamps to your sensitive bits," and here he gently tugged at one pierced nipple, making her toes curl, "and watching you cum so hard when they yanked them away that you wet yourself on stage. I knew I had to have you, no matter how much gold it took."

Chloe was the most helpless she had ever been. Normally she at least had the reassurance of gravity on her side, but suspended as she was, and bound, none of her limbs could afford her any relief, could respond to what she told them to do. There was nowhere to hide from the pain of the ropes criss-crossing her body, no way she could shift to relax. And yet much like spicy food that you couldn't stop eating she wanted more of it - it was painful, but wonderful, perhaps in some small way wonderful because it was painful. Some part of her, a deeply horny part of her, wanted to feel it more, wanted whatever other manner of amusements her master had planned, and shamefully she realized if her mouth was free, she would be begging, not to be cut down, but for more, to cum for her master like a good girl ought. Despite her master sealing off her cherry for so long as he saw fit, and her frustration at it, it made her reliant on his goodwill to cum, as even if she were to stimulate other parts of herself without his command the seal on the charm on her clit would ensure no orgasm happened without him, her master able to either keep her right at the brink for hours or turn off any physical sensations of arousal and make her stew in frustration until she was fit to burst. Most days she was allowed the former, letting her stay pent up and horny and aching for release, and today was no exception. After a while she had begrudgingly accepted this life, over her life as heir to a people, accepted her master's authority, and submitted to his perverse training, learning all the incredible erotic things her body was capable of she might never have discovered otherwise.

Feeling fuzzy as she twitched gently in place hung a foot over the bed, she barely took notice when her master's broad paw gathered up her crimson-and-black hair into the beginnings of a ponytail, nor did she think too hard when she heard the click of another anchored rope being unhooked. The first time she was even able to exit her reverie and question her changing situation was when she felt a sturdy leather clasp, complete with hooks not unlike a comb, snap tight over her long, gathered hair, about ten inches from her head. She had little time to realize that this was another ceiling anchor, weighted on her hair no less, before she felt a harsh tug on her scalp. Her eyes watered and her struggling began anew as she was filled with unshakeable fear the burly regal hyena meant to pull her hair out or outright scalp her for his own amusement, but the harsh-edged pain of too much weight pulling at her scalp was not to be for long. Lord Tally hooked in a little less rope, for the anchor on his pet's hair, and then moved to the central point and raised her another few inches, so that after the initial shock, the pull on her hair diminished from feeling like a threat to life and limb to right under the threshold of pain that her body was choosing to associate with pleasure, barely noticing the extra strain of being higher before it all melted again.

Lord Tally couldn't help but chuckle at how easily his pet adjusted even to this latest indignity, amused at what a natural she was but decidedly impressed, and a bit enamored, like a proud owner whose hound had just brought him a felled duck with no delay. It would be trivial, here or at any moment in her kept life, to succumb to his baser urges and ravish his captive beauty, if not speaking the words to undo her cunt and finally take her sweet cherry then at least to have his fill of her innocent-looking tailhole, for despite its seeming purity he knew that he had trained it to be as responsive and sensitive as any base cunny, and part of him still ached for the day he would feel the warm walls of her ass or throat around his cock. But today was not that day. The restrained lord had plans already in motion for that forbidden passage, that Chloe might have guessed had her mind not been preoccupied with some of the most intense sensations she had felt yet.

But first, he would think as he groped one hemisphere of her yielding buttocks, a little indulgence couldn't hurt.

Despite all the sensations vying for Chloe's attention, she was nevertheless alerted promptly to the scratch of her master's whiskers against her butt and upper thighs as he buried his face between her cheeks and breathed his pet's earthy scent deep. He had certainly already tipped his hand in showing his fondness for her ass, and it didn't take long for her to realize that the learning curve in enjoying those sorts of afternoons with him was much laxer than learning to enjoy pressure or tightness for their own sake. She shivered (as much as her suspending bonds would allow her to) as she felt him kiss her pucker, as tender as any lover's kiss, then greedily lap her hole clean. Not that he ever allowed her to be dirty or neglected, unless it was specifically part of training, so it was more so that the older man was, regardless of his icy demeanor and strict discipline, possessed of a definite weakness for a gorgeous plump ass and an oral fixation. The albino wolf made insensible noises into her gag as her lord ate her tailhole, sensation enough to stand out among the still-firing shocks of her full-body bondage.

Broderick pulled himself away reluctantly, willing to have spent days between those cheeks lapping and fingering but knowing his own discipline was as important as his many pets' discipline. A restrained monarch is a prudent one, he had always lived by. Even his excesses were meager compared to the debauched harems of some of his peerage. But his peers were lost to their own pleasures, and sometimes to their own cruelties as well - only he could balance both so expertly, and he had vowed it would show in all things his, down to and including his chattel. The quick bout of oral service had merely been preamble for the final piece of the artwork that was "Princess of the Savages, Bound Aloft", and he intended to put the final brushstroke on it.

That brushstroke came in the form of a burnished steel hook, shaped not unlike a fishing hook but bearing a bulbous silvery orb at the short end rather than a sharpened point. It was meticulously clean - it simply would not do to have a slave die to random infections from carelessness. And this particular hook was meant for an internal use. The gruff hyena hummed a tune as he ladled slick scented oil onto the hook from a prepared bowl, a neutral seed oil that wouldn't invite any ills, and as he finished coating it gave his Chloe's crotch a pat, jingling her piercings and making her jump in place and start the process of reaching stasis with her tight bonds over again, or she would, had he given her the chance. Instead, not even waiting for her to stop swaying from the two anchor points, he rolled the smooth oiled orb against her pale tailhole, giving glimpses of the tender pink inside, and then holding her tight by the central rope began forcing it inside. The wolf struggled against the sudden touch but predictably was unable to accomplish much, mostly wiggling her toes madly in frustration. The globe hung for a brief second with the rim of her perfect tailhole all around it like lips preparing to swallow, and then swallow they did, the second half of the round steel hook-end sliding in all at once to quite the stir of lewd noises whose coherence died as the rubberwood gag dispersed them.

"My sweet pet. You've wanted this for days now, haven't you? The guards tell me that even if they take everything out of your cell, chain your hands, you'll find one way or another to get those slender fingers up that rear of yours if I've made you wait long enough. What would your people think, knowing their beloved king's daughter, the chaste Princess Wintermane, was such a filthy butt-slut she'd beg to have her ass stretched out, widened like a post hole for any who could make her cum," he taunted, on mostly deaf ears by now, as her dignity had suffered so severely that she no longer cared what anyone thought of her, who saw her like this. She was a slave and a whore and a deviant, but she was his, and for now that was enough. "You didn't think it would simply be a regular plug, on such an occasion as this, did you? Simple girl." A tug, at the exposed arc of steel. A tightening inside, as the plug rotated and caught in her like a hook in a fish's cheek. More tugging. It was only when she saw him walk over a third pink ceiling-anchored rope that she put together what was coming and shook her head wildly until the pain that doing so moved to other areas of her body was too much and she was forced to stay still. "You've got the idea, I think, little wolf. Your two anchors aren't particularly stable, just yet. What you could use," he said, clicking the rope into a hole through the far end of the anal hook, "is a third!"

The pull as the steel ball in her ass became her third anchor point was so great she lost several seconds to a blackout, tail bristling fat in her panic until Tally, who knew all her weak spots, clasped the base of it tight and brought her as near orgasm as the dampening spells would allow her. The hook felt like fire inside of her, pulling at her walls, but as she hung there it occurred to her that her laundry list of intense sensations were somehow, now, balanced, no undue force here or there but all in harmony save the tearing pain in her rectum, and the longer she hung there the more even that faded, until all she could feel was weight and pressure rubbing her walls, rubbing the back wall of her unspoiled snatch from the other side, and despite how much elaborate work had been done getting her here, she was loath to admit, everything was balanced just-so such that once there were no more new pieces to add to the puzzle, she was... comfortable? No, that probably wasn't the word. At peace, perhaps. Trance-like, like she could stay here for hours and perhaps puzzle out the secrets of the universe as she was mindful of one tiny fraction of her teased body at a time, that maybe she would come out the other side of this session with secret monastic knowledge.

For a few moments that seemed stretched out to several times their length, she was allowed to hang undisturbed, unable to tell what her artful lord was up to - whether he was plotting some further violation, simply watching her body wriggle and flex in her bonds and appreciating her aesthetically, or (possible from his complete silence) whether he had simply left. She tried to center herself and stay in the moment, trying to make the grey mortared stone of the wall come into focus and keep her mind calm, trying not to relax too far with the new additions to her bonds and start the wave of pressure again but find as much slack as she could hope to without fully relaxing anything, to stay still and balanced because movement meant more pain and less focus. Chloe was aware of parts of herself that were tightened that she had never had cause to feel individually (or at least notice when it happened), feeling present in her body in a peculiar way. Maybe this was what he was trying to teach her, if he was in fact teaching anything and not simply filling his memory with lewd capers for his own satisfaction?

She would receive no answer to this question. However, as to the questions of what had become of Lord Broderick Tally when he left her sight and fell quiet, and whether this was the end-state of his plans for her today, both were answered as a tiny round-ended steel rod covered in thin lubricant, a rod the likes of which she had only felt once or twice before, pressed to her last open orifice below the neck: her tight almost-hidden urethra, camouflaged among the pink flesh of her cunny but that the chastity ribbons left unguarded. When he had first tied her ribbons and let her know that they might remain that way forever if he chose, she had presumed he had left her piss-hole open for exactly that, making sure she could urinate freely when needed. It was not until a later date that he showed her the other reason, showed her the fantastically weird feeling of having it penetrated, delighting in her discomfort. Having the sound inside her was a difficult feeling to describe, outside of having to pee but not being able to - the walls of the short tunnel of flesh to her bladder were sensitive, and the feeling wasn't just pain, but what was pleasant about it was hard to put to words. One thing about having her piss-hole violated was, however, was that it was an intense amount of sensation, and more than sufficient to break her newfound concentration. Reflexive pulling-away from the invading rod led to her swaying in the air on her anchor ropes, led to imbalances in her bonds where one area was relaxed and another tightened again, and as usual the struggle to bring them into equilibrium was blissful agony.

"Too much?" Lord Tally taunted. "Now come, pet, we've done this before, have we not? You would think you would learn to enjoy it as quickly as you have so many others. So close to that sweet unsullied cunt of yours, yet so far." As she started to stabilize, he pushed the rod further in and then out, little movements, barely a centimeter or two but knowing she could intimately feel every move he made with it. "Fear not. I've no plans to stretch your adorable puffy piss-hole out to be fucked. From experience it's more trouble than it's worth," he admitted nonchalantly. "But it does cheer me to watch you fight, yet, when mere moments ago you appeared on the cusp of some lofty enlightenment." One of her tautly bound paws neared him, and he kissed the pad with surprising tenderness.

"But there was, in fact, something left undone from the previous times I tested you here." Chloe gasped audibly into her ball-gag as this sound, appearing to be much longer than prior ones, pushed almost an inch inside and rested against something tender and unyielding, causing extraordinarily strange but searing pain in whatever it was he was prodding. "That would be your bladder, pet. And aside from the obvious, it's the only virgin hole you have left. Would you like to find out what happens when it's penetrated?" She shook her head no, emphatically, then stopped as her whole body stiffened again. "I'll even throw in some incentive-"the snide gentleman offered, and with a few spoken words of magecraft the pale princess felt the familiar wave of relief that meant her orgasm denial had been unsealed, that it was now up to her to cum when she was able or lose the chance and have to wait again. "I know you're at the edge, that you've been there for quite some time. Even with a perverse old slave master like myself plumbing your bladder, I know you'll cum wonderfully for me, pet."

She shook her head no but knew that he was right. Waves of wellbeing that had been dammed just out of reach washed through her, just in time for the sharp pinpoint pressure of the steel rod sliding just deeper enough that it could force through. Relief was imminent, despite the area still being tender, but more imminent was the immediate unstoppable urge to empty said bladder and not being able to, blocked off by the invading sound. Fully inside the sphincter holding her bladder back, Broderick delicately fucked a few centimeters of the rod back and forth, doing little to relieve the liquid pressure but squelching lewdly as droplets escaped the abused sides of her piss-hole. The sensation was almost pleasurable, and the bound wolf thought perhaps with practice the pain might subside, but right now it was far too odd for her to want it to continue for long. Her orgasm ratcheted up nonetheless, teasing from so many angles it made her clit stiffen up and made her acutely aware of the piercing through that most sensitive button.

"Don't fight it," her master cooed, "or you'll be pent up for another week, princess." He smiled in adoration, a smile he would never show her directly, and as he watched her quiver in preparation to orgasm, he nonchalantly slid the sound free.

Chloe felt suddenly very empty as the stimulation at the entrance of her bladder moved back into her urethra and hot urine moved with it, the sound moving just quickly enough there was no time for pressure to truly become painful, and her toes clenched in pleasure. The ball-gag was damp with saliva by now, its wearer drooling with lust and now making it worse as she opened her mouth as wide as her bonds allowed to gasp, to catch extra breath. Everything everywhere was tension. But when her master kindly removed the last centimeter of the sound from her piss-hole, there was finally release, certainly not from her bondage but from the most pressing matter at hand, and the sheer unknotting of tension and the feeling of shameful straw-colored urine streaming from her without her even needing to push it out was more than enough to send her over the edge. She rocked wildly in her bonds, each spot of hot pain just furthering the insane wave of pleasure as she keenly felt the tight coils of rope squeezing her body tighter than any lover, the smooth orb sliding about in her naughty tailhole as her ass clenched and unclenched wildly, all the pulling and tugging this way and that, and not the least the relief and degradation of being forced to piss herself as she came hard for the amusement of her cruel owner, who she was certain was watching closely with sadistic glee as she soaked her groin and thighs with musky piss.

At last, after her bladder ran dry, after every little shock of pink lightning pleasure finished traveling through her system, she hung still - wet, spent, aching. The bed beneath her was damp and acrid from her emptied bladder, even if she had been allowed down to sleep in it. But it was over. It had been incredible, stressful, ecstatic, and enlightening, and she had no doubt she would have a lot to think about between now and the next time she was brought out for a play session. But now it was, she realized in relief, time that Lord Tally (as ever) cut her down, have her bathed and perfumed, and returned to her cell to recover. She waited for her bonds to loosen.

But they never did.

Something soft like velvet and dark as night was lowered over her eyes, and her heart fell in realization that whatever lay ahead, it did not involve rest.

Lord Tally made sure his prized slave's blindfold was secure, then freely explained her predicament as he readied two earplugs of soft waxed wood. "You were incredible my pet - but look what you've done to this poor feather bed. You know that that moisture's quite ruined the stuffing, don't you? It's liable to rot now, thanks to your mess." He lifted one of her ears to gingerly force a plug into her ear canal, nipping the ear's tip mischievously with his teeth. "I think you'll need some time to think about what you've done. Just you, the ropes, and your body, no other stimuli to distract you." He stood directly before her, and she fruitlessly lifted her head, searching but unable to tell where exactly he was, letting out little panicked gasps around her gag practically begging him to stop. "I've left the spell undone - you can cum all you like. In fact, I suggest it! It should ping one of my rings every time you manage to get yourself off, and once I've decided you've had long enough to learn your lesson, enough orgasms to have learned the joys of your unique position... then I'll return to untie you. Please do try to focus - sensory deprivation can drive one a bit mad, in the wrong circumstances." She yelped again as he held her head steady and slowly placed the second earplug, and his voice and everything else went quiet.

It was either a few hours, or all of eternity, before she felt the reassurance of the ground again. For that indeterminate span, there was only darkness, quiet, pain, and pleasure, all without limit.