Full Partner
A kobold laywer drives to what she thinks is an interview about a promotion. It mostly isn't.
The invitation was very strange. It had arrived to her as a handwritten letter, sitting on her desk in a very expensive eggshell-white envelope, sealed with wax and tied off with red ribbon. It looked like a gift, but upon opening it she found it was really more of a job interview. Not just the envelope was disconcerting about it, however.
Fewyn and Klancyttyr was one of the most prestigious corporate law firms in the entire city, and perhaps the whole of the Kobold Nation. To contract more prestigious lawyers without stepping outside of racial bloodlines, the only other option would be to hire one of the dragon lawyers and nobody had that kind of money. Maiya had been working since before graduating law school just to earn herself a desk at the firm, and four years later she had found an invitation on that desk to go into talks about the possibility of discussing the chances of going over the option of maybe being considered a full partner. She very nearly fainted.
This was big. So big, in fact, that a few of the invitations more odd requests went totally unheeded. That she clear her entire evening and next day's calendar of appointments. That she plan accordingly for twelve-plus hours away from home. That she drink enough water to take a drug test. At Fewyn's townhouse? Well, it was weird, but it was the opportunity of a lifetime.
She buzzed with excitement as she drove herself to the address provided. She'd never been invited to Fewyn's house, a swanky estate in a swanky neighborhood. It was more meager than his means. Ostentatious living and extravagant display of wealth was for their clients. And what clients liked to see was a lawyer who was sensible about his spending. But, haha, that didn't mean having to live where normal kobolds live. Like, for example, where Maiya lived. Not anymore, she swore to herself with a sly grin. Not if she made partner!
By Kurtulmak, why did they set the drug test for tonight? She was anxious and squirmy enough without having that urgency to deal with as well. Maybe they'd get that out of the way early. She'd drank perhaps a little too much water.
She pulled her sensible car up to the side of the street. In a big city where parking was a nightmare, there was ample on-street parking in front of these estates. A great many very important kobolds spent a great deal of money to live in the sort of neighborhood where parking wouldn't be an issue. She was almost ashamed of her own car; it was sensible and new(ish), but when compared to the vehicles that lined the roads and rested in cobblestone driveways. Well, she just didn't measure up.
Don't think about that! She almost smacked her own forehead, walking up to the house. Think big. Think important. This is your chance. Confidence. You're just interviewing for a job you already have. You deserve it. Get in there and win.
She got to the door and it opened all on its own. Well, no, the kobold servant on the other end had opened it for her. He was a little aged and incredibly well dressed. He may as well have a sign around his neck that said 'major domo' or 'likely overpaid'. She thanked him demurely and stepped inside. She was dressed in a perfectly reasonable tight black skirt and blouse. Not too fancy, not too casual. The invitation had said it didn't really matter. Another oddity she'd spent exactly zero time pondering.
The foyer was decorated with paintings of sweeping landscapes. The floor was marble. The walls a pearl-white. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling. And this was just the foyer! Additionally populating the small room were three male kobolds Maiya didn't recognize. They didn't look like they were lawyers. They weren't dressed like lawyers; they were dressed like security. Black pants, black shirts, thin little black fingerless gloves. They all three of them gave her a once-over when she stepped inside. Her tucked her tail down and cleared her throat.
"Miss Maiya?" said the major domo, walking around to come in front of her. She smiled at him.
"Yes."
"We must search your things, I'm afraid. Mr. Fewyn and Mr. Klancyttyr are very particular about this, so please do not be offended."
She was, a little bit. "Oh, I'm not," she said, sweetly.
The male's facial expression did not shift an atom's width. "Of course. Your purse, please."
She handed it over. Whatever, not a big deal. Made some sense, actually. Corporate espionage was a serious thing, especially in the high stakes world their firm operated in. It was not unheard of for agents to work for years within a company or firm, just to collect secrets. Scams ran years, even decades. Security was important.
"Remove your blouse."
Though rarely that important.
"Excuse me?" she asked, momentarily confused.
"Miss Maiya, your success tonight will hinge, and I was told to stress this so that there can be no misunderstanding, on your ability to follow simple directions when given to you. Mr. Fewyn and Mr. Klancyttyr were very keen on this. They also told me that you would be permitted one lapse, and that was it. Now, remove your blouse."
The three other males were staring at her. She could just walk out the door. "I could just leave," she said, bluffing.
"Then leave," the man said, holding over her purse. One of the other three walked to the door and opened it. She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. If she walked out that door, all possibility of becoming a partner in the firm (or any firm) walked out with her.
"No, sorry, no, I'll..." she stammered, before she got control of herself. Confidence. Your job to lose. With somewhat shaky and short movements, she unbuttoned and loosened, and then lifted her blouse over her head, revealing her flat-chested, scaly torso. The door closed, and the major domo turned and put the purse on a small table, opening it to peer inside.
"Now take off your skirt."
"What?!"
"You were warned."
Three sets of hands grabbed her with perfect precision and coordination. She tried to cry out, but a small belt was looped around her snout and tightened, choking her shout off into a muffled "Mmf?!" Her arms were grabbed by the wrists and pulled behind her back, whereupon handcuffs were applied to her wrists, the shackles sliding shut with that nerve-wracking metallic rattle. She realized far too late why it was the invitation said it didn't matter what clothes she wore, as fingers hooked into the waistline of her skirt, pulling the garment down her legs to crumble around her ankles. She struggled, but the males' grips were tight, and she was helpless as those same hands found her panties and yanked those down her legs as well.
She was naked. She was naked! Clothing seemed like such impenetrable armor and yet it had been removed from her with such ease. She tightened her legs together, squirming and wailing into her bound muzzle, which only made her sound more pathetic.
The major domo wasn't even watching. He was looking through her purse, which given this new context made her feel somehow even more violated. His next words didn't help. "Punish her."
She squealed into the gag as powerful arms carried her struggling body to the wall, where she was pushed up against it chest-first. She felt her tail grabbed and her eyes shot open wide as it was yanked up, forcing her hips to arch and presenting her firm, round backside to all three males in the room. Her tailhole and sex were exposed! She thrashed but the hands pushed her harder into the wall until she was still, and then the punishment began.
*Smack!* "Mmhh!"
The open-handed blow landed square on her left ass cheek. She stared in a mad panic over her shoulder as two of the males took up positions behind her on either side, and started alternating blows. They were not gentle.
*Smack!* "Nnh!" *Smack!* "Ffsss!" *Smack!* "Nh!" *Smack!* "Mnhmnh!" *Smack!* "Nh!" *Smack!* "Nh!" *Smack!* "Mnh!" *Smack!* "Nnnh!" *Smack!* "Fffff!" *Smack!* "Ffhhh..." *Smack!* "Mnnhh! Nnnnhh!" *Smack!* *Smack!* *Smack!* *Smack!* *Smack!*
The last handful of blows landed on an already stinging and sore rump, and rather than bark in surprise as each one, she simple sobbed through them in a sort of low moan of defeat. As quickly as they'd started, the males stopped, and she was left to lean against the wall, bared to the room pussy and tailhole and all, whimpering and vulnerable.
The hands roughly dragged her in front of the major domo again. She looked up at him meekly, panting, her tail released and allowed to slowly, carefully cover her stinging rump. He had something in his hands; a collar. He affixed it around her neck. Then, he clipped a leash to it.
"Are you finished being a stupid cunt? Or do you need more punishment?"
"Mnnnh..." she responded. It was probably a 'no'.
"Good. You will follow every order given to you without hesitation, or you will be corrected again, and harder each time. Did you follow directions and come here with a full bladder?"
Embarrassed beyond rational thought, Maiya averted her eyes and very meekly nodded.
"Good. The masters will see you now."
Her leash was handed off to one of the other males, he walked to a door, opened it, and pulled. She yelped into her mound muzzle and stumbled forward, arms awkwardly behind her back. The hallway was long and bright, well-lit and cheerily decorated with little tables sporting ornate china pots with brightly colors flowers within. more happy paintings on the walls, and closed black oaken doors that led to who-knows-where. The place smelled of citrus cleaning solution, air freshener, and aged wood. Naked and bound, she felt like an animal being dragged into civilization, the opulence, once pleasing, now intimidating. Her feet tapped on the marble floor as they walk, the girl looking around, eyes wide with anxiety, heart racing in her chest. Her wrists pulled at the handcuffs, and once or twice she thought about testing the leash... but she knew better than that already.
The male pulled her through another heavy door into a smaller room. The walls were a dark mahogany, the carpet a burgundy red. A fire was burning in a fireplace, and it smelled faintly of whiskey and cigar smoke. Only Mr. Klancyttyr was smoking. The other two men, Mr. Fewyn and an unknown male, were not. All three were dressed casually, as this was just another night of post-dinner brandy for them. Her emergence interrupted a conversation they were having. They, like everyone else, were kobolds. This was their city, after all.
She fought the leash as she was pulled into view. She was bound and naked in front of her two bosses, the senior partners of the firm, and some random guy. Even with her legs tightly drawn together, she knew they could see everything. Well, everything from the front.
"Ah, the young lady has finally arrived," Fewyn said in syrupy tones. He was younger than Klancyttyr, but the more senior partner. Technically, the founder of the firm. He stood and took a couple steps towards her. She tried to shrink away, but the male holding her leash pulled her forward.
"Now, now," said Fewyn, smirking and regarding her shivering nudity. "What's this? So reluctant? A proper cunt should be proud of what Kurtulmak gave her. Spread your legs apart when you stand in front of me."
When she instead just stared at him in a sort of fugue state of disbelief and fear, Fewyn's response was to glance meaningfully at the male with her leash. He grabbed her tail and yanked it up, dropping the leash to give her another spanking. She thought they were rough before. Apparently these nameless male 'guards' were stronger than she thought. She squealed into the gag, twisting helplessly as he kept her on her feet and bent over with his hand on her tail, the other absolutely pulverizing her vulnerable rump with harsh open-handed blows. Each one rang off the walls in the intimate little study, the bookshelves, globe, and fine ornaments and nick-nacks doing little to muffle the audible sting of each strike. Or her choked whimpers and sobs.
"Has she been punished once already? That seemed harsh," Fewyn asked the guard.
"Yessir, straight away in the foyer," the male said, picking her leash back up and breathing a little heavier for the exertion. Maiya stood in place, softly mewling into her gag, bent forward just a little to ease the sting on her rump, staring glassy-eyed at Fewyn. He tsked, looking down at her and resting his hands on his hips.
"I was led to understand you are a clever little cunt," he said, their refusal to use her name not escaping Maiya's notice. "And yet you can't follow simple directions? Legs apart, female, come on."
She obeyed, sliding her feet apart on the nice carpet. "There you go," he cooed, as if to a hatchling. "What good is a cunt if we can't see her cunt, isn't that right?"
She nodded. She was learning.
"Good girl. You weren't expecting this, were you?"
She shook her head, still staring at him, while Klancyttyr and the unknown male took a moment to enjoy their drinks and eyeball her nude body, the firelight dancing off her smooth scales.
"You're not enjoying this, are you?"
She shook her head. She was terrified!
"Liar," he snarled, and his hand came up between her legs to find her smooth-lipped pussy. She whimpered, but that turned into a sharp, high-pitched squeak as her boss, the cultured professional male she'd worked for for years, shoved two fingers straight up into her sex.
Into her sopping wet sex.
She was so wet that on entry, her clear femcum squirted out noisily between her stretched nether lips and his rough fingers. He gave a little thrust with his fingers, staring hard into her eyes, making her go up on her tip-toes, pelvis thrust awkwardly forward, before he yanked his fingers out of her and brought them right in front of her face, his other hand grabbing her snout and making her look at them. She could see her juice, sparkling and clear, drip down his digits. She could smell her arousal. She wasn't just horny. She was practically cumming on her feet.
Her look of ashamed surprise prompted him to say, "It was Joryn-"
"Heyo," said the unknown male, giving her a little wave.
"- from IT who discovered your little personal writings. You know that we can read any file you store on any company machine, regardless of personal security credentials, right? Anyway, it was fascinating reading. Completely inappropriate for work, however, but we'll consider this as an alternative to a visit from kobold resources, hmm?"
He let go of her snout. She stood, awkward and vulnerable, as Fewyn stepped away from her. "No more punishments from now on, cunt, understand? Every command obeyed. No more lies."
She nodded. Small, reduced, she nodded.
"Good. Let's go."
A bag was thrown over her head. She 'Mmf!'ed into it, but the leash pulled and she had no choice but to follow. She felt the carpet under her toes turn back into marble. They left that room, passed through another. The men were walking in front of her, talking. They were congratulating the IT guy on his find, complimenting her (to each other) on her body, speculated about her tightness. The marble floor became wood. A door opened, and she heard them descending stairs. Then, carefully, she was led to them and she, too, descended.
Her feet reached the bottom of the stairs to find herself standing on cool concrete. The bag was removed from her head, and she blinked a few times. She was in a sex dungeon.
Well, what else could it be called? There was a pillory. A small bed. A bench, a couple tables, a few chairs. A long table with instruments on it; cuffs, whips, crops, chains, plugs, dildos, and bottles of lube. Bottles, plural. A St. Andrew's cross. A suspension harness. It was as if someone was browsing an architect's selection of sex dungeon designs and said 'Ah, what the hell, just give me the deluxe.'
The three males were staring at her, as well as the guard. Her leash was unclipped and the four men stood in front of her.
Fewyn said, "Look down."
She obeyed. In front of her toes was a drain about the size of a small pizza.
"In nature, a female signals to a male that she's ready to be bred by urinating for him. Signal your readiness to us. Right now."
She was a professional female. She wore sensible work dresses and she worked on difficult cases. She knew how to speak legalese in two languages and she had two degrees that would take her a decade to pay off just the interest on. She was working her way up in the world. She had an apartment and a car and a retirement plan. But not here. No, here she was an animal. An object of male desire. A support system for three warm holes.
She lowered her head and squatted, legs apart. It fully displayed her pussy to them, slick with her arousal as it was. It was an awkward pose, but she could tell with a submissive glance towards them that it was appreciated. The room was utterly silent. Soundproofed no doubt. She squirmed under their gaze, getting stage fright, but her urgency was catching up with her fast. She'd drank a lot of water, and that was apparent to everyone when, with a whimper, she started. The stream started with a trickle but quickly became a steady flow, very nearly clear in color. She closed her eyes but could feel their gaze on her, and the sound of her urine hitting the metal grate of the drain, tiny and light as it was, sounded deafening in the otherwise silent room.
"Eyes open, cunt."
She obeyed, looking at them look at her while she relieved herself. As long as she lived, she reasoned that she would never feel as utterly humiliated as she did just then, a solid stream of warm piss flowing from her naked cunt for their viewing enjoyment. She shuddered, the stream lasting a long time before finally, mercifully, it tapered off.
"All done, cunt?" Fewyn asked. "Finally empty?"
A small nod.
"You've just signaled toa room full of males that you're ready to be bred. You know what that means, cunt?"
Another small nod.
"Stand."
She stood. The guard walked up to her with a small napkin in his hand. He gave a very quick wipe of her pussy before tossing it in the bin.
"In order for you to properly serve your role," Fewyn said, walking towards her, "I'm going to have to take this off your snout. A cunt's mouth is for sucking cock, not for talking. Can I trust you to remember what your mouth is for?" She nodded to him. "Nobody in this room is interested in your stupid female opinions. We're here for three things. Your cunt, your mouth, and your tailhole. Is that virgin? Your ass?"
She looked away and squeezed her eyes shut, nodding.
"Not for long."
Fewyn had her first. Not ten minutes after she'd urinated for their enjoyment, she was on her knees in front of the standing male. He had both of his hands on her head and was in the process of demonstrating exactly what her mouth was for. He had a solid, thick cock that was at that moment testing her gag reflex, punching the back of her mouth over and over again. She squirmed and occasionally gurgled, gagged or 'Mrrff'ed around his length, but little care was given to her wellbeing. None was expected. They spoke, about business, about contracts, about current events. One of the guards brought the brandy down into the room, and now all three guards, the major domo, Fewyn, Joryn and Klancyttyr were making themselves at home in the sex dungeon. All were stark naked. A few were rock hard, and some were watching with rapt attention as Maiya was forced to deepthroat the senior partner's cock. His hips flexed as he slowly and casually fucked her face, as if she were an object. Because she was. She was a cunt.
Fewyn grunted, his breathing growing labored. He pumped her face a little harder and the room grew a little more quiet, an almost sort of reverence coming over the scene. The male was not into grand theatrics or anything of the sort. His orgasm was dignified, manly, as he pressed her chin up against his balls and unloaded his cum into her mouth. She was given no choice and knew one didn't exist in the first place. Hands clenched in her handcuffed behind her back, she gulped down the seed, noisily. He came a lot, and she drank it all.
She squealed, her chained-up body thrashing back and forth as the riding crop struck her on any part of her body that Klancyttyr fancied. She was bound standing with her arms chained up above her head. No part of her was safe. Her thighs and chest and arms and back and belly were only the opening salvo, and she was already begging for mercy by then - which was a mistake, as they immediately gagged her, Klancyttyr punishing her with the crop even more for forgetting so soon what her mouth was for.
Worse was when he directed his strikes against her vulnerable bits. Her ass first, whipping that until she moaned and begged through her gag. Then, her tailhole, the tiny target struck at least a few times, eliciting a shameful wail. But worst of all was her sensitive pussy, smacked two, three, four times with the cop, making her shriek until she felt her voice would go numb.
He tossed the crop away and advanced on her. She was shivering, twisting, helpless and sobbing; he didn't care, pulling her thighs apart and victoriously shoving his powerful cock into her tight, slick cunt. She arched her back and came immediately. Eyes open wide with tears streaking down her face, a bit-gag shoved in her mouth (which still tasted salty), she came as the old senior partner got started on her, jerking her body up and down as he fucked her.
After Klancyttyr was finished with her, she was unchained and dragged, dripping cum from her pussy, to the center of the room. Joryn positioned her on her knees, face to the floor, explaining that he would mount her as a male properly mounts a female. Unlikely in nature is what he did next, which was slide his well-lubed cock into her tailhole. So hoarse was she from the previous session that she could barely utter a cry as her anal virginity was removed without any fanfare whatsoever. And why should it be special? It was just some cunt's tailhole, there for male use. So he used it. The virgin, tight orifice might have stood a chance were it not for the liberal lube he'd applied to himself. The anus was immediately defeated, yawning open wide around his shaft as he plunged that young, firm length up under her tail.
The youngest male in the room, Joryn had the stamina to match his younger years. He didn't just take her anal virginity, he destroyed it, fucking her hard and deep and thorough, to the occasional praise and motivational cheers of the other males in the room. He slapped her on the ass to get her to tighten up. She was like a toy, her body positioned how they liked, slapped and poked and fucked as they liked. Shameless, she touched her clit and she brought herself to orgasm; he announced to the room, of course, that she came from being fucked in the ass. What a good slut, they said. What a nice cunt.
The hours dragged on. Each one had their initial turn. Sometimes she was fucked while bent over the table. The three guards locked her in the pillory and spitroasted her, each one sampling her mouth before finishing in her cunt. The major domo sat in a chair and enjoyed her mouth for a full, lazy thirty minutes before he came down her throat, all the while enjoying a beer.
The men started taking shifts, some taking turns fucking her while others went back upstairs for a drink or something to eat. Once or twice, she was chained down in place and left alone, to whimper to herself with only one male in the room, idly checking his phone. She was whipped. She was teased. She was watered and, when she had to pee again, forced to once again perform the act in front of the men. She was even sandwiched, one male in her cunt, the other in her ass, until both males admitted to felt a little weird that they could feel each other through her walls. She sucked each cock at least once. She nuzzled their balls. She lifted her rump and raised her tail for them. She came a dozen times or more. It all slowly blended into a blur of sensation, of the stench of sex, and the complete debasement of every part of her being.
It was almost surreal when she was told they were finished with her. As if the fact that there could be an end to it hardly even registered in her mind. She was given no aid; she was stripped of her collar and cuffs and gag, and left to stumble her way to the stairs. The men chuckled and high-fived each other as she struggled to navigate the stairs, crawling up them, and trailing their cum as she went, oozing liberally from both rear holes.
Finally, she managed to stumble her way into the foyer. Her clothes were there, pressed and folded neatly, along with her purse. Sunlight streamed through the window. What time was it? What day was it? She reached for her things when her wrist was caught. It was Fewyn. He was naked. He was erect.
She grunted as he roughly bent her over the table, her things scattering to the floor. She moaned something that might have been an objection, or begging for mercy, but he wasn't listening. He grabbed her tail and yanked it up. "Never forget this," he growled at her. She was weak but he was strong as a minotaur, holding her steady and lining himself up. Her hands fumbled dumbly at the table, but her fingers splayed out and her body strained as he shoved his cock forward, her pussy made to accommodate the last penis of the day.
By the way her cunt clenched him as he defiled her, he knew he'd done well. This had been a small but important part of her little diary or whatever it was Joryn had uncovered. The beaten heroine, inches from freedom, grabbed and mounted one last time. Just to show her how helpless she was, her freedom their mercy.
"When you step through that door," he groaned, driving his hips into her, "you'll be Maiya again. But never remember - ngh! - when you were nothing but a cunt." He held her tight, pounding her firm little body with brutal thrusts. She was a sloppy fuck, and he was unsure if that lubrication was mostly male- or fem-cum. It hardly mattered. It felt good and this was her role. "You'll be in my office on Monday," he groaned, getting close, his hips pumping her fast and deep. His tail flagged behind him; her's was a limp, flopping mess. "We'll talk about your - nnnngh- promotion and -hhhnngh - review what you remember... about... what ... nngh... your mouth is-...! Ah! For! NNNNGH!" He gripped her tail, almost hugging it, pushing his cock deep into her, desperately, as he crested. "Here it... c-... cums! Ahh! Aaaaah! ... aahhhh... nnnnh...."
Her defeated, overstimulated body arched, just a little, and she matched the way he threw his head back as he came; she opened her demure, cocksucking little mouth and moaned, softly, accepting the last load of the day, right where it belonged.
The magical moment passed and, panting, he pulled himself free. She was a mess. He snorted, and slapped her hard on the rump; it barely elicited a whimper.
"Now go," he said, dismissively. "We're finished with you."