Inservio: Mija
[[ Let me know how you like the story! I've been sitting on this idea for some time now. This series will encompass many different characters all bred by the same woman, Vilencia. She typically has something to say about each of the girls (and boys!)
All characters mentioned were created by me and in no way should be reproduced. Some of you may have seen them in Furcadia, also, I do play actively and if you would like to meet any of them, let me know!
Anyway, this is only my second story ever, so please constructive criticism is a must. I'm a very perverted little girl and most of these stories will include tentacles, monsters, incest, forced sexual encounters, characters in authority, possibly more ageplay and odd species like humans and dranaei.
Don't read if you can't handle it. D= These are just objects of my fantasy. ^^;]]
[Vilencia](/?page=Vilencia)
_It was cruel of me. I almost felt for her as I watched those hazel eyes gaze back at the plantation that had been the little whelp's home. Her new owner had not only doubled the original price for her age, but tripled it to insure I would give it to him. Today.
His cock was hard before he even left the office.
The one he took was called Mijali by the brood-mothers. She was a plush-furred egyptian mau and leopard cross with whispy blond locks and rosettes that went on forever. I'm sure she would be a succulent little thing, but he did not want her trained. He took her as she was. A pampered little pet with no knowledge of the outside world.
She had to be young, still. Barely a bubble for her breasts, but her mother was small too. Ah well. I am a good several hundred gold richer for it. And I have no return policy._
"MIJALI!" Barked the lean anubian hound. Sleek and black with feirce gold eyes the girl avoided. He seemed angry. Why was master angry?
Three masters had passed and, seemingly suddenly, Mijali found herself bound and gagged. The shackles of copper on her wrists were bound to a rod keeping her paws apart, just as another of the same make did to her feet. It dug into her flesh more than necessary, the girl was still very small. A tiny 5'4'', and barely any musculature to her. Her metabolism burned through the meager scraps she had gotten in the last week far too quickly, and it was breaking down through whatever reserves she had left.
There was a rumor spread about this meek slave girl. That she was one of the rare few, too young to be had and too innocent, that the Goddess herself placed a curse upon her. These past three masters had died only weeks after aquiring the girl. None had her, none broke her. She was untouched and just as plush and soft as the day she was born.
This new master, called Mael, had also left her untouched. Though he had rubbed against her until her nethers burned curiously and covered his fingers in the juice of her sex, but should she rub against him when he stopped, she was smacked for it.
And now, he had bound her up, for seemingly no reason at all.
Beneath her smooth stomach was a stool for a particular purpose, raising up her hind legs until she was near standing, but she had been demanded to keep her paws firmly pressed to the floor. She had sat that way for an hour, thus far, minding her own business and trying not to think of the cool air in the Quarter whipping about her naked body. Worst of all, the girl was damn sure she had to go make water, but was not allowed out of her slight predicament to go to the privy.
"Mijali!" He barked again, sending a jolt of fear through the girl. He enjoyed seeing the way her skin prickled and tugged the fur in odd directions when she was startled. Just like a feral feline. Slaves, of course, couldn't be much more anyway. Pets, toys, and playthings. A feral at least, could be a companion.
He chuckled to himself, rising from his seat across the room. There were others here, too. A small rodent female with big brown eyes in a servant uniform continuously made the bed by herself. Another had placed herself in front of the fireplace, her back to the exposed slave, while she stroked the fire. As if moving statues they would say nothing, go about their business and leave. Mijali admired their long red hair and stout, shapely figures. But she had no time to think about being jealous of these women, with their tailored blue gowns and aprons.
"I should change your name.." Spoke Mael, slipping down to one graceful knee and placing a large paw on Mijali's left buttocks. He rubbed the fur the opposite way, up near her tailbone, where he scratched idly. Almost affectionately. "But you do not answer to your own. Will you answer to another?"
"Mijali answers when the master tells me to.." She murmured quietly. Shortly she yelped, making both of the women in the room jolt a little. Mael had grabbed ahold of her rump with both paws, using canine claws to dig into her flesh. It was almost to the point of breaking skin. Even something so slight was almost unbearable. The rounds of a buttocks is very sensitive for a young female.
"Did master tell you to answer?"
It's a trick of masters.. she thought to herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Do not answer..
Mael leaned forward, over her own back, to growl in her ear. "Good girl.. Now, Anette, bring me that kettle of hot water. A bowl, as well. And you.. whoever you are. Leave."
The scullery maid didn't need telling twice. The little mouseling girl was on her feet and headed for the door, pausing only to dip a courtsy before she snuck out and into the grand hallway behind.
Anette, as she was called, carried other the tea kettle with a practiced grace and set it on the table Mael motioned to. That, along with the tea tray, was left for his own use. "Anything else, my lord?"
The sadistic hound chewed his tongue thoughtfully, whilst running his gaze over her. She had to have a better use. Of course, he himself had lost interest in her with the aquirement of previous slaves. Although.. "Go to the BackHouse. Stay there until I summon you."
Anette's eyes watered. Those gorgeous, unwaivering eyes. The woman dropped to her knees, reaching a paw toward, but never at, the master, Mael. "..The Back.. ..Why? Master, please, don't send me.."
He reached with a paw that so seemed to know kindness, touching her chin and stroking along her jawline with a practiced tenderness. At the crest of her jaw, however, fingers grabbed hold of fur, and pulled her face forcibly closer to himself, that he would not need to move. "Because. Tramp that you are, you failed to give me what I wanted.. What good are you to me?"
"..but I love my master. You have always been good to me.." She started, voice cracking into a whimper of protest.
He pushed her back, throwing her weight into the footboard of the overlarge bed behind her. "And thus, you are still worthless. You are barren, and now you are too plump for my liking. Do you not see the others I have replaced you with? No. I won't have you. You are stripped of priviledges. You will service the men in the slave quarter. And when you are too loose for them, the ferals."
Anette sat still as the world spun, and her eyes eventually focused on the - child really - strapped into the contraption Mael had first ravaged her in. She took pity on the short blonde curls and the awkward, teenage frame. She knew the girl would not last. The young ones never did. Except her. She got to her feet, arms clinging to herself as she exited without a word.
"Hmph.." Mael watched her, scowling softly to himself. That one could be trouble. With seventeen male slaves in the BackHouse, however, she wouldn't have time to. These men had permission to do whatever they pleased with the slaves he sent to them. One girl in the past was raped to death, they were so deprived. He knew better than to keep them yearning and without for ere too long. Anette, however, had been very well versed in the arts of the harem. If she were lucky, they would spare her for a time.
Turning his attention back to the girl in front of him he slipped his digits over the crest of her backside and down over her left thigh. Then up again, and under, so that his palm might feel the plumpness of her mound. There wasn't much to the girl he had purchased, but still, the considerable pillow guarding her sex was enough to please him. He fondled her without thought, stroking the netherlips of her sex and peeling them apart to blow a huff of cool air into them. A shiver unwittingly ran up the girl's spine and still she said and did nothing.
"Still untouched, I see.. lest it be a mage-trick.." He murmured, a calloused thumb rubbing deliberately over her clit and up across the delicate membrane of skin guarding her entrance. Back and forth he did this, fingers massassing the cushion of her outer mound and bare, velvet folds, and his thumb nudging, and pushing, tweaking and pinching her clitoris.
Mijali shook her head quickly. "..No trick.. Mija unmated." She spoke in her usual, simple tones. These tones did not stay true to their accent, slight as it was. Her voice shook in little shivers while he took the liberties of her position. She was exposed utterly, and his fingers made eager use of themselves.
Wetted with his tongue his forefinger slathered itself, moistening the air-dried petals with an almost affectionate fervor. He leaned beneath the rump raised in the air, nose running along her slit to breathe in the entoxicating scent of the girl. He stayed there for a moment, chin lifting up to brush the fur of his muzzle across her. She shivered again.
"..Master.." The timid voice spoke, though she didn't move.
He grunted a response and an ear perked and tuned itself to her voice. Such a soft little voice. "Yes?"
"May I.. get.. ou-"
"No. Don't be rediculous. And stop asking questions." The hound grunted again, and got to his feet to stride his way over to the table. The small bag of trinkets that came with the girl resided there. There were no collars or tags, merely amulets and the like that she kept as a child. A small marble, a carved lion. Inside, also, was a little perfume bottle. This, however, he got from the hands of her original mistress. A curious oil inside that she gave little information on. Only that if he kept the girl, he kept the oil as well.
Three times profit.. he murmured to his thoughts, thinking about the woman who donned herself in gold links and nothing else. A curious woman, to be sure. A seductive form of grey with rosettes of black. Cyan colored curled hit her bottom and her bosom was left naked.. Entrancing, and she knew it. Bitch.
It would take a whimper to draw his attention back to his slave, bound to the posts with her legs splayed. Her sex had moistened itself due to his minstrations and she squirmed to rub the front of her mound against the bar keeping her rump in the air. Pink and glistening, those furless few inches of flesh. Slightly swelling, too, due to arousal. He could see her clit from across the room.
Striding over to her again, he kneeled down, taking up a handkerchief and wiping her folds carefully dry again. The trinket bottle was placed in the bowl with hot water. He could hear the mistress speaking her instructions as he did so. Some three weeks ago.
It was an intricate item of silver and glass with a small reddish chabochon that, she claimed, would turn blue when the oil was ready for use. In the meantime, though, with Mijali squirming, half to free herself though part of her wished more pressure against her clit, he had other things to see to.
A shriek ripped itself from her lungs before she knew what had happened, but realization was short coming. A mighty paw struck her rump. Not once, but time and time again. He hit her gently, struck her other cheek with the back of his paw, and stood up to take his belt to her.
She screamed when the whip of leather hit her bare flesh, tears wrenching themselves from her eyelids, though she shut them as tight as she could. The louder her cries rang, the harder he would hit her. The belt even took to her cooch, leaving welts on her netherlips and mound. Braised and reddened. It was all she could do to keep from making water on his floor!
"Master, why.." She cried, yelping again with another strike.
The belt was dropped, buckle hitting the wooden floor unenthusiastically. He seemed bored by her shrieks, despite the raise in his pants. "I own you, girl. Don't question me again.." Mael warned her, stepping over to lean and look at the bottle. What do you know. Blue.
He took up the bottle and let off it's cork, pouring a good portion of the liquid into his palm. Nose catching the scent, he smirked. It was warm and soothing in temperature, and Mijali was relieved when he rubbed it all along her slit and folds, even some along the little membrane guarding her virginity, all across her mound and the underside of her buttocks. He used plenty. Half the bottle, if not more. He rubbed it into her skin and applied more.
Though the warm sensation was quickly to leave and Mijali squirmed a little at a time as she wondered about the faint tingle the cool room air was bringing her. The oil was too hot at first, but... Oh gods!!! It burned! It burned where her flesh was cut! It was cold where her flesh wasn't, and if her flesh was neither cut nor whole, it tingled and sent her nerves there to flame. "Master!" Desperately, she tried her metal bonds again, but the held her small frame in place. "Master it hurts.. It hurts me. It.."
Breath drew quickly through her nose as he watched her fight the sensations overtaking her. A simple beating and some peppermint oil. The oil had been so focused on her nethers it dripped to the floor. He leaned forward with the bottle to apply even more, this time, but paused.. shifting his hips to undo his pants.
Member springing free, the remainder of half the oil left was applied to his shaft with his own paw, face strewn in gruesome amusement as he prepared himself. He closed his eyes as he stroked himself a little, hardening even more than he was a moment ago. Today, I'll take her.. She will break beneath me.. He mused, standing to pull off the fine silk and toss them to join his belt. He was nude, otherwise, save for a ring bearing his authority and an amulet of protection. A stark contrast to his surroundings, including the pale little innocent beauty crying at her burning cooch.
He moved to her, placing fingers gently around her hips to feel the fur there for a moment, then gripping, claws digging. There was no time for her to question why she felt he was drawing blood on her before the world dissolved to her eyes and her breath - her breath was forced from her lungs. All it took was one, well preportioned thrust to break past her virginity and sheathe a good portion of his shaft. He throbbed inside her. He wanted to thrust, but wouldn't let himself. She was silent and he wanted her to -feel- this.
With her head bowed she drew a shaking breath, one after the other. "..master.. ..." She cut off as she realized the brunt force of the -post- lodged inside her hole wasn't the most horrifying pain of all. The burn of peppermint oil -inside- was by far worse. It was like fire, between the heat of her body and his. He would not feel it to such a degree, but she? With her sensitive pink skin so easily absorbing the essences of the oil, all she could feel was fire.
Through the scent of the peppermint he couldn't scent her blood, much to his chargrin. Still, he leaned forward, pushing another agonizing inch into her depths. His throbbing head would hit a wall, not five inches inside her and another four to go. The anubian growled his frustration, claws rubbing and digging into the sides of her as the slipped up from her hip bone to her waist. The supple waist of a girl, the very nook below her ribcage; a tantalizing morsel. He would kiss her there if he weren't revelling in her pain.
Her canal clamped down around his dick as if the muscles wondered where it went. He pulled out and down, paw slipping around to find her clitoris and pinch it. Rolling it between his fingers with the oil. He wasn't gentle. Far be it for him to be gentle with her on her first mating. He watched her squirm beneath him as he rode back up inside of her with a force equal to the one before. Mijali was done with crying, all she could do is whimper uncomfortably as he lodged himself time and again.
She was full to the point of bursting and suddenly emptied again, all but the engorged head of him leaving her sex barren. It was getting steadily easier. The burning of the oil wasn't so badly shaking her nerves and his toying with her clit pulled that funny itchy sensation over her pelvis. There wasn't a time where she wasn't making noise. Hot little whimpers or pained cries! Her canal coated his member in the clear fluid delcaring her arousal, despite the pain inflicted on her moments before. It dripped to the floor as he continued to couple her.
Mael found himself growling, thrusting up and into her, and down, letting his sack slap willingly against her exposed clit. The thick shaft pulled and pushed the outer folds of her sex, buring them half into the canal stroking him and sucking against him when he left it again. His paws pulled away from her only long enough to lower the bar in front of her legs, the one that kept her suspended. She may have dropped and inch or so, but it wasn't long before his paws raised her again and thrust, uncontrollably. Deeper, everytime. Pushing and prodding against the backmost nook of her sex. Digging into her cervix, but never past it, and out again.
He couldn't hear her raised shrieking anymore. She was bucking, knees weakened and barely able to hold herself in the position he wanted her in. The blinding force of an unwitting climax hit her first and she buckled. He was quick to follow her to the floor, the knot of his dick swollen so that only the first five inches of him could lodge itself properly in her clamping depths. She bucked, grinding her slim hips against him uncontrollably; sex gushing juice around his shaft.
The throbbing was damn near unbearable for him. She was tight. Tighter than she ought to have been, perhaps, but she was young. Now with all this.. He couldn't take it! Paws pushed her shoulders to the floor where she writhed, in a daze. Mael positioned himself, raised up, and thrust into her harder than he had before. It would hurt her, but what did he care? He paid dearly for this little slip of a girl.
It took three tries to push past the contracting hole and wedge himself inside, to the hilt. Bulge of a dick pushing against her spot and head lodged beyond her cervix, she held herself, emitting a sound mixed between horrified groans and cries of delight. It still hurt, so much... It burned to hell.. but the world was spinning. The other way.
His thrusts became short, but hard. Unbearable to the still-climaxing girl. Swollen folds engulfed his shaft, petals a brilliant scarlet and covered in dew. He thrust, still, riding her to his pleasure. Balls slapped lewdly against her mound and tickled her burning clit as he pushed her to her limit and back again. He stretched her, fucking her senseless in those last moments where, howling like a beast, he emptied his gushing load into her womb. Several torrenting spirals of cum flowed into her, hot and seething, touching her innermost chamber where he could not.
She bucked again, around him, pink rear wiggling in fury but unable to go anywhere. She was still bound, not by four but five bonds. "Mmn.." She uttered weakly, left knee giving out. He still held her into the floor, paw locked in the crook of her neck. Empty, he pulled himself out of her forcibly and let the cum, free flowing, spill to the floor.
Watching it until it ceased, he was silent, stoic suddenly, as he rose to move away from her. Sweating, the two of them, and doused in the scent of eachother. The room was full of the musk they created.
When she could breathe again, a short two minutes later, Mija turned her tucked down head to look at him. Mael had his back to her and had placed himself at the table with the wine and a tray of finger food.
"Master..?" The quiet voice came again, quieter than before. Pain she could handle. The pain would go away in time, but... his silence. A Master's silence was never a good thing.
"What, Mijali?" He growled, voice a harsh baritone against her sweet soprano.
It took her a while to come out with her question, going over the ways of saying things to masters in her head. She was a simple girl, not unintelligent, merely unschooled. And meek. With her blonde girls and soft eyes she was meeker still. "..Did.. ...Did Mijali please you?"
He knew his answer before he spoke, and the smirk that sat on his features, hidden from her, he knew would give away his plans. He straightened his face, paw knocking the wine glass to his left angrily to the floor. "No, damnit. No. You were a very bad girl Mijali..."
She burst into tears at that moment, quiet ones. though her eyes were nearly dried out, she found more to shed on his floor. "No..?"
"No!" He went on, raving to the wall instead of her. "You will never please me. You will be removed from the house." He growled through his tones. A sweet puss.. guilible. Tight.. But her screaming... is so sweet. I can't have her in my bed again. I'll find another to saite me, but in the meantime...
"You'll be sent to the Back House. With Anette."