Teaching them Humility 2
Our Criminals won’t escape justice. One way or another
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Teaching them Humility 2
Our Criminals won’t escape justice. One way or another
Crimson spat on the floor, wiping his muzzle.
Sure enough, his jaw was definitely hurting. The same went for his entire body, especially his legs. Still, he plugged one nostril and blew. Then he did the same with the other. However, the smell remained. Same as the taste as he huffed.
“That’s enough for you,” said a voice. Lower. Lower than many, but the origin was obvious.
A Tauren.
Tuho Blackhoof. Perhaps in a former life, Tuho had been a friend or a partner. An old merchant who’d been acting as a fence for some criminals. But him being here was both a surprise and yet not so for Crimson.
Instead, the Vulpera gulped down the mix of saliva, trying to wash down the salty and astringent taste that was sticking to his taste buds. No chance. It rarely washed away so easily.
“Do you have toilet wine?”
A huff. A frown. A tail flicking while the Tauren purposefully shook his shaft off, his organ still half erect and protruding from his groin. He wasn’t hard anymore, but it didn’t mean something wouldn’t come off if he desired.
Something Crimson preferred not to taste or get.
“Fine,” huffed the Vulpera, stepping away from the cell while listening to the Tauren lying down and relaxing.
Then, Crimson was back in the atrium, watching the prisoners around, talking, and mostly idle. Some huddled at the edge of the balcony, sitting and talking. Some were sticking to the walls. Some more were staying in their cells.
However, many noticed the small Vulpine as he wiped his face. Cum… Cum was everywhere: on his forehead, on his ears, on his back, on his nose, inside it. And his mouth?
Well, he certainly had been force-fed a good chunk of Tauren spunk, so he still had some stuck to his teeth as he snarled at a human who smirked.
“You got a problem?” asked Crimson.
“No. Not at all,” replied the naked Human, waving his hand. “Only watching the prize. How long until the twins allow us a turn with you?”
Crimson huffed and gave the human the middle finger as he turned away, certainly making him see how the Vulpera limped. Or how his meaty ass was spread, showing a hint of the formerly innocent butthole.
He was a spectacle. From his nipple and nose piercings, ‘gifts’ from the other inmates, to the other branding he got all over his back; Crimson looked like a toy. His fur had been ‘painted’ white, and hardly cleaned; charcoal tallies on his ass showed he’d taken over fourteen dicks in the last days.
Not an exact count.
But getting fucked in the ass was still better than dying. Being beaten, thrown over the walkways in the atrium, crushed to a pulp, or starved to death.
The options were multiple, and they kept rolling inside the Vulpera’s mind as he descended the steps from the ‘tame prisoners’ block to the brig.
It was the least populated level, but it had been different before the Prison’s retaking.
Only the worst of the worst lived there, as shown by the difference in their attitudes. Whereas on the upper level, they were calm and idle, the lower level was filled with people fighting, squaring up, eyeing each other.
It was also darker. And it was the only place where one could physically train, as evidenced by the numerous men lifting weights near the atrium.
Men who were licking their lips and teeth when they saw the Vulpera. Some obviously stroked their exposed cocks, easily going for a full hard-on. Some were glaring at Crimson.
And yet, the Vulpera tried to ignore them as he beelined to a cell almost to the opposite side from the stairs.
In the darker shades, practically on the way to the sodden depths, there were… The howlers.
It wasn’t a real gang, more so a group of misfits, of Worgens of all origins sticking to their kin. Silver Thunder wasn’t among them, obviously… And yet, Crimson approached with a stern attitude, his teeth clenched even when one of those Worgens whistled.
“Well, well, well. He’s back from his turn.”
“And looks like he got a nice meal. Tauren spunk tastes so good?” asked another Worgen, smirking.
“Shut up.”
Crimson’s reply was instantaneous as he glared back at the two Worgens. They retorted with an aggressive stance and a snarl, their hands opening as if they were ready to grab the Vulpera’s face.
“Look at that, the whore is fighting back?”
“You’re not afraid we’ll eat you?” added the second Worgen, leaning with his hands on his sides.
“Not-“
“Can you shut up? You’re loud!” shouted a voice in the nearest cell.
The Worgens flinched, even straightened their backs. If they had tails, they would have gone between their legs. But for Crimson, he smirked at them and stepped toward the cell.
“Heard that? You’re loud when flapping your gums,” said the Vulpera, waving his hand.
Sure enough, the two Worgens behind growled and huffed, their breathing ragged and their stomps obvious. They were raging. But they could do nothing when the Vulpera left them behind and entered the cell. Inside, two sights welcomed him. Two cots. Two beds, something surprising in the depths.
However, that was so with the two brothers, Jes and Bobby Howlis. Brothers, the two Worgens had been incarcerated before the Ashvane takeover and then the loss.
They certainly lost some parts in the skirmishes, with Jes having one glassy eye and Bobby one mangled ear.
However, they had changed little in those days. The prisoners of all sorts respected them. As for the penitentiary staff, they were quick to avoid them and any interaction with the brothers.
“What’s that, fuckmeat? You’re acting uppity?” asked Jes, snorting.
“Come on. That’s fun. And they need that,” commented Bobby.
“We don’t need to show weakness.”
“Yeah. And they need to learn their place. They fucked one whore before we had our turn. We had to shiv the bastard.”
Crimson listened, trying not to redirect the conversation onto himself as they were now squabbling over the matter of shivving or not anyone disrespecting a whore. Jes was of the opinion that they were to attack anyone outside and punish the whores. Bobby was closer to stomping on his partners and making sure he had his fun.
All the while, the discourse shifted and changed, going over the whores they’d had over the months: prisoners who, like Crimson, got the short end of the stick.
Prisoners who ended up suffocating on those bulging cocks that sprouted from their groins. Prisoners who would be reduced to nothing more than fuckholes.
Prisoners who were to worship them and please them.
Much like Crimson, the discussion reached its expected outcome.
“Fuck. I don’t care about what you think, Jes. I don’t wanna go sloppy seconds with a whore, unless we share.”
“Bro.”
“Bro.”
Crimson scrunched up his nose a little before he reigned in his emotions and waited, silent, while the two Worgens turned to one another and made out.
Their muzzles were pressed together, their tongues lashing out in a sloppy kiss with strings of saliva joining their lips to their chins… And then between the two as Jes pulled back despite Bobby’s caresses on his chin.
A pure, intense make-out. One Crimson watched, certainly dissatisfied. Not with the incest, he somehow found that hot enough to have his cage drip with precum. However, he was dissatisfied that they were so… enamored. They were bastards, people he’d thrown in prison by redirecting the authorities’ heat onto them.
They should’ve died in a prison cell or become bitches for prisoners, not become such an intense couple that were often losing themselves in each other.
Still, the Vulpera wasn’t coughing or acting up.
He only watched and waited, observed as their mouths pressed together once more. As the fingers on the chin descended along the neck and collar, they explored the chest fluff, the pectorals, and the abdominal waist.
And then down to their groins, their nethers, their genitals. Cocks and sheaths, uncaged and unrestrained compared to the Vulpera.
And as the fingers danced upon the dark gray testicles, stroking the furs, stroking the weighty orbs that were definitely as big as Thunder’s… Crimson could only bite his lips while observing the pink cocktips steadily rise from the sheaths.
Cocks… Twin. Similar but different.
Bobby was the widest and Jes the longest. Something that had been hard to guess, but after many times comparing and sizing themselves up, they’d reached that conclusion.
Crimson himself had concluded when one eye, non-glassed, turned to him.
Turned to the Vulpera with the shuffling feet and dripping cage. Then, a hand was outstretched, and Crimson was beckoned, invited to join them.
Not in their make-out, not in the kisses as they groaned and moaned all the same. No.
On the joined bed. The Vulpera had to crawl, go on all fours, and then approach their joined cocktips to his mouth.
That was akin to a ritual at that point. Something they would refuse to do any other way. They would make-out. They would get hard, stiff, and needy. And they would have the whore in the middle to tend to them.
“Fuck. That was a good idea to get our hands on that whore,” chuckled Bobby, stopping the kiss to lick his chops and have his hand stroking Crimson’s forehead.
“Best idea ever,” confirmed Jes, chuckling as he had his hand landing on Crimson’s head, too.
That was their thing, their way to assert their domination over the Vulpera.
And with the two hands holding him, pushing him forward, Crimson had to feel, to smell, to taste the two organs that were pressed at his lips.
Two elongated cocktips that were pushing and prodding his lips until he opened his mouth, brushing his serrated teeth dangerously, before both tips landed on the tongue.
The salty taste, acrid and strong, was strong on the taste buds. But Crimson did not whine or groan. No, he only closed his eyes while his tongue rolled against the tips, the organ twisting and coiling to give each cocktip a nudge of attention.
And that… While the hands went onto his pierced ears, stroking them… And even edging the ear canal to mess with the Vulpera.
“You’re much better using that mouth to serve us than scam people, Crimson,” said Jes.
An insult. A remark. Something to titillate Crimson.
They were not the only ones having a hard-on to torture Crimson. Some, even a fellow Vulpera Monk, had that love for humiliating Crimson.
Everyone wanted a part of the Vulpera; everyone wanted a hole from the Vulpera, whether it was his mouth, ass, or even using his body.
Masturbation was as good to them as sucking.
However, in that situation, it was solely Crimson’s that was in use.
His lips, open and welcoming, did not close. Nor did his jaw or teeth. Doing so was a death sentence, and so, Crimson merely licked. His tongue rolled, danced, almost explored the details of the canine erections.
The knots at the base slipped out of the sheaths and bulged obscenely, blood throbbing under the skin.
Then, as they throbbed, something salty and sticky hit the Vulpera’s tongue, twice. Not an ejaculation, but quite similar in the way it was nothing but precum. Sticky, slightly opaque, and definitely sprayed all over his tongue until it was the sole thing he could taste again.
It was but the beginning as the two Worgens, enamored, were now pressing their mouths together, their tongues too busy in their dances to truly care about the Vulpera.
Yet, the hands continued to yank, to tug, and to force the Vulpera to advance: to welcome more of an entire length into his mouth down to the uvula.
Uvula that would have made him retch, gag, and cough not so long ago. Not anymore. Not as Crimson pushed against the reflex and the tears to force Jes’ tip, the longest, in, while the second was merely poking at the end of his tongue.
Even if they desired it. Even if the Vulpera’s mouth was quite large, there was no way for the two organs to slip in.
Instead, they were both moving in tandem, with the Worgens pumping and humping the air, acting like they were fucking someone’s hole. Like they were fucking a pretty whore from a brothel. And yet, it was… Crimson.
“Fuck. I love to use this mouth with you,” groaned Bobby, his cocktip almost wedging itself within that throat before he retreated and allowed Jes to advance, to push one inch inside that throat and tease it…
“Even if it weren’t with me, you’d love that throat,” laughed Jes, pulling back and licking the strings of saliva before he looked down on the cocksucking Vulpera. “Don’t you think, Crimson. Revenge remains just as sweet.”
Crimson frowned and would have huffed, if not for the used throat.
To him, the two were definitely not the smartest nor the most original. They repeated themselves, as if they couldn’t get past the fact that Crimson had outsmarted them.
And the way their claws dug into his ears or pressed against his scalp showed their anger had not disappeared and wouldn’t in a while.
Still, the Vulpera swallowed. And took in, and breathed through his nose to ease his mind while that cock was feeding more precum into his mouth, forcing more of that sticky fluid down his throat when he wasn’t swallowing it himself.
“Let’s go.”
Crimson’s ears stood up when he heard that remark. Let’s go. Do what?
His mind raced with a hint of fear as he watched the Worgens grin at one another. Maybe he could rescind the idea that they were not so original.
They definitely acted more original and akin to their bastardly self when they grabbed the Vulpera’s face and yanked it away, almost throwing Crimson onto the solid ground.
“Ah! Fuck!” cried Crimson, hastily flailing his arm to recover his balance.
However…
However, it ended with the two Worgens’ arms wrapping around his petite body, lifting his thighs alongside his legs. He couldn’t fight much; he couldn’t oppose much, especially with their goons around.
And so… Surprised and afraid, Crimson watched.
He observed as the two Worgens went up, and not without lifting him, without grabbing him by the arms and shoulders on one side… And the legs on the other.
“Wait… That’s not what we agreed!” shouted Crimson, snarling.
“No. But you definitely gave that to the others,” snickered Jes.
The two snickered together as they faced one another… With Crimson stuck in between, his legs forcefully spread and his posterior positioned above two erect red cocks.
Two red cocks that were definitely dripping as they pressed one against another, throbbing and spurting precum all over them.
“Fuck. It’ll be so fun,” grumbled Bobby, his cocktip rubbing with his brother’s.
“We know you trained; your hole isn’t as tight anymore, Crimson. We saw it.”
The show.
More like public humiliation as the Vulpera’s ears dropped. He’d only been fucked by a few guys and nearly shivved during it. And now, everyone wanted a turn.
A frustrating situation, as he could sense, feel the first cock pressing against his asshole.
The entrance was far from virgin, and the orifice was constantly swollen, even though he constantly clenched his posterior to hide the hole.
A hole that… Was definitely ready to be taken, whether by one or two Worgens… Two, obviously.
They were doing everything together: eating, pissing, sleeping… So fucking his hole together? That was a given.
“I can’t take you both.”
“Too bad, you can definitely improve,” scoffed Bobby.
He even snickered as he thrust forward, his cocktip smacking against the Vulpera’s taint and making Crimson wince.
It must have hurt the Worgen because he definitely whined. However, that cock remained hard and prodding, poking at the furry posterior.
“Calm down. We need to do that together,” said Jes, handling the Vulpera’s legs and therefore the angle of penetration.
Angle he adjusted as he moved his hips, something different from Bobby, who remained steady and still like a statue. They practically leaned against him with their entire weight while Jes had the hips positioned.
And then…
There was the penetration.
The cocktip, burning and elongated. It prodded and then, as the orifice opened ever so slightly, and Crimson winced… Jes went in.
He thrust in; he penetrated the Vulpera, penetrated his tender and warm orifice while he howled in delight.
“Fuck yes!” he cried, his ears up as he looked at his brother. “It’s great!”
“Let me try it!” shouted Bobby, advancing. He took one step… And that was enough to have the Vulpera go fully vertical and then… To have his muzzle pressed against Jes’s chest fluff.
“Let me stretch it for you. It’ll be more fun.”
Certainly not more fun for Crimson as his eyes twitched, and he certainly felt the brunt of the penetration. Neither one was careful. And Jes definitely wasn’t the tender lover.
His thrust, unique at first, turned into many small humps as if he carved his way inside the Vulpera.
It hurt. It burned. And all the recriminations Crimson had died in the chest fluff, making him cough and spit out saliva and strands of fur.
“Oh, it’s really good. Plus. I can feel his cage dripping against my belly.”
“Fuck. That sounds fun… And hot. Just like you.”
Crimson wanted to retch and puke. They were so cloyingly sweet at times. A conclusion that definitely contradicts the perversity they displayed at that moment.
And definitely in opposition to the abuse they’d been dishing out on him.
But alas… Could he say anything?
Not at all.
So he huffed, grunted, groaned with the sound coming out muffled while that Worgen cock was pressed deeper inside him. Deeper. And deeper. And deeper.
His belly burned, his guts bulged, his asshole burned from the sudden penetration.
And then… There it was. The knot.
A knot that stopped and didn’t budge while the two Worgens were making out above the Vulpera.
Then… A strand of saliva landed on Crimson’s forehead.
“Should I knot him first?”
“Nooooo… let me try him first!”
Bobby’s whine was pathetic, and Crimson’s ears dropped.
Then they straightened up atop his head when the Worgen inside him pulled out, yanked on the Vulpera’s orifice and asshole before leaving the entrance gaping.
And then… It was Bobby’s turn to penetrate, to press his stubbier and wider cock inside.
The penetration, in turn, was slower and more painful to bear. But it was shorter. Definitely shorter for the Vulpera as he heaved and breathed against the musky fur, drooling all over it.
“Fuck. He’s good, you’re right.”
“And he’ll be even better with you inside.”
Again, Crimson would have retched.
The two were again making out, their fingers sometimes touching the other’s belly or posterior in tender caresses before they stopped… Before Bobby retreated.
Before the wider cock slipped out…. But not for its tip.
A tip that was joined by another.
“Don’t do that!” cried Crimson, his voice muffled.
“Oh, sure, we will,” snickered Jes.
“I’ll die!”
“The Warden won’t allow that,” countered Bobby. “You’re too important. With your caged clitty.”
“I hate you!”
Both guffawed above. Their chests lifted and pressed on either side of Crimson’s head before they counted down.
“3!”
“No!”
“2!”
“Don’t do that!”
“1!”
“FU-UuuuUUck!”
Crimson’s voice broke. It went high-pitched, practically a shrill, that stopped all actions in the prison.
But the two Worgens were inside. Their cocks, twinned, were inside him.
His belly bulged. Obscenely. The two cocks were definitely inside, though only Jes’ appeared through, bulging and pressing underneath the taut skin.
And it didn’t end there.
Not as only half of the cocks went inside.
Only half, but it was enough to stretch the Vulpera’s asshole to the limits of ripping out. To make the entrance burn like a second sun between his cheeks.
And then… They rubbed their cocks together.
Despite the tension and the tightness of the orifice, the two Worgens were definitely working together to rub their cocks against one another while making out. Whenever Jes almost pulled, his brother went in. Whenever it was Bobby’s turn to almost pull out, it was his brother who took his spot.
And they rubbed, pressed, almost chafed the asshole that hadn’t been lubed or prepared.
“Stop! Stop! STOOOOP!” cried Crimson, his body burning and aching.
He wasn’t prepared for this. It was agonizing. It could hurt him. It definitely felt like they were breaking something inside him.
Beyond all?
He was hard inside the cage.
Inside the tight cage, ever tightened, that was crushing his erection and squeezing it. He was hard, stiff, and shooting inside the metal while the two Worgens howled and chuckled. They even cackled as their movements went deeper each time.
Each time, they retreated less and advanced more, until even their knots were rubbing together and their precum was foaming between them.
“Let’s break him!”
“Yes, please! I want to feel him stuffed by my brother!”
“Aren’t you cheesy?”
“So are you.”
So cloyingly sweet.
And yet, this time, Crimson did not want to retch.
No, he closed his eyes as hard as possible, clenched his teeth until his gums bled. He wanted not to feel or anything. Or if he had to choose, he would have preferred their voices above the penetration.
Above the pressure that was building up in his guts, making him feel like his abdomen was getting pummeled by angry monks.
He cried, his eyes watering. He snorted, snot filling his nostrils. He tasted the blood on his tongue.
And then… The knots smacked against his entrance.
Twin. Massive. Obscene. By then, his orifice had been forcefully lubed up by the precum that was coating everything, sprayed all over his sphincter. But with the twin knots hitting his asshole.
That was something else. It was dangerous. It was… Something he couldn’t recover from; he felt it.
If he took it, could he still walk? His pelvis ached so much… Perhaps they could break him from inside? Could it be real? Could it happen?
“Let’s go together now?”
“At the same time?”
“Fuck yes!”
The penetrations slowed. The thrusts became slower. For a peaceful moment, there was a respite. Then, the two cocks withdrew together, the orifice no longer limiting their presence. No longer restrained them from entering at the same time.
But… As the cocktips were at the edge of slipping out… Crimson was dropped.
He was dropped, or rather yanked down, by the two at the same time, and he gargled.
His eyes bulged while his belly was forcefully filled by the twin organs… And felt their knots smacking against his orifice, threatening it as it resisted the penetration.
Still, it resisted. Barely.
But the push on the sphincter could be felt, and Crimson braced as the two withdrew again.
Their ragged breaths echoed through him and his skull, the two panting like mad dogs as they drew all the eyes upon them.
Upon them and the whore they were about to knot together. A premiere, one would dare say.
And… They lowered Crimson.
They lowered the Vulpera, his muffled cry now resonating within the cell.
And they lifted.
Only to lower, this time with an increased strength that would give no choice to that entrance.
No choice as they continued. As they pummeled. As they beat the Vulpera’s orifice until Crimson’s cheeks were wet from the tears.
Until they smiled and grinned, approaching a common orgasm while the Vulpera’s asshole was taking a little more of those knots. A little more of those bulbous bases that could wreck it. And… As the burn was at its peak.
“ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!”
They howled.
The Worgens. The Vulpera.
They howled differently but at the same time. Crimson felt the knots slipping inside his back entrance, making it feel like he was ripped apart while the two on either side climaxed… And pumped cum all inside him. Stuffing him. Filling him with so much cum, even the delineated veins were disappearing under the flow.
So much cum, it was even dripping from the little cracks in the asshole’s clenched presence.
But the result was there as the two Worgens howled, throwing their heads back, before they leaned forward and made out. All the while, the Vulpera’s legs dangled limp between them… And through his gargling, it was clear Crimson was swelling and stuffed.
Right… Right before he coughed, his saliva turned white from the obscene amount of fluids.
Yet, the united ejaculations wouldn’t stop. Not as Crimson was swelling like a balloon. Not as he coughed cum through the mouth and then sneezed it.
Not… As he, too, was cumming inside his cage while drowning in their cum, his mouth drooling all over Jes’ chest fluff.
“Best fuck ever.”
“Yet.”
-
“On the virtue of discipline. Chapter 14. As we have seen, the mind can be forged through discipline. The mind of a scholar is no different from that of a soldier if they put the effort into organizing their mind. However, in the case of criminals, they…”
A silence fell over the room, soon cut by a faint whine. Something muffled. Something barely heard. But definitely present, as one blue hand reached for the lorgnette atop that nose and set it aside.
Finally, Ashav lowered his book while smacking his lips together.
“Is this read too difficult for you? Your partner could listen to it while taking his training.”
Another whine. However, there came the tongue licking, thrice. Three licks. With the tongue forcefully pressing against the swampy orifice and prodding it.
“Fair. We shall cont-“
Knock! Knock!
“Yes? What is this?”
Ashav’s eyes drifted from the book, an old treaty that dated from before the Alliance. Human culture was something he definitely appreciated, as scrolls and books made up the bulk of the bookshelves on either side of his private office. Still, his eyes scanned his desk and the desk chairs nearby… Before he turned his gaze right and looked at the door from which came the knocking.
Barely a few candles, only a few sconces lit, all perfect for a book reading session.
“Sir. We have… Hum… Another case.”
“Ah. Perfect. I thought he would be late for this. Please. Make him enter,” said the Draenei, his lips curling into an unfeigned smile.
“Are you sure? He is-“
“Filled? Of course, I am certain. For once, we shall forfeit hygiene. This is an important moment.”
“As… You wish.”
The knob turned, and the door opened, following the Human’s troubled voice. A whispered order came, and then, crimson fur appeared.
The Draenei lowered his book, though he used his index as a bookmark, while he looked at the Vulpera.
The Vulpera was entirely cum covered and limping forward despite the stiffness in his movements. A stiffness that worsened as he straightened up on the red mat, the ‘welcome mat’ the Draenei had purposefully imported from the Exodar.
“Crimson. Please. Make yourself comfortable,” said the Draenei, smiling.
The Vulpera did not speak, his lips shut.
However, much like a puppet, the Vulpera twirled and turned his back to the Draenei. Therefore, he presented his posterior, cum-coated, and his gaping orifice to the Warden while he took four steps. His hands went to a nearby shelf, reaching for a collection of metal butt plugs that had been aligned in order of size.
For a moment, the hand went for the one in the middle.
“T-t-t-t. We can do better,” corrected Ashav, snapping his fingers.
A whine followed, the sound of strained ropes resonating within the room. And then… The Vulpera reached for the penultimate buttplug, almost the biggest.
Then, the licking returned and resumed, making the Draenei's smile soften and his expression almost jovial as the Vulpera turned on his steps, put the butt plug on the floor, one step away from the welcoming mat, and squatted on it.
The sound of suction was slow, steady, with many spurts due to the air pressure on Crimson’s guts.
But then… It was done. The Vulpera squatted on the butt plug, with his hands on his nape, while his expression remained as stiff.
“Permission to talk, Yip,” said Ashav.
As he said that, the Vulpera gasped.
His expression, stoic, broke. He went from a stone-walling individual… To an almost wailing individual as he begged: “Please! H-Heal me!”
“T-t-t-t!”
Ashav clicked his tongue and wagged his index finger as if chastising a child before he looked down. Looked down at the Worgen that had been installed on a torture rack. His arms and ankles had been attached; the contraption had been pulling on them to the edge of torture.
But not only.
Not only were Thunder’s limbs stretched, but so was his scrotum. A rope had been tied around his testicles and pulled on them alongside the limbs. And at that moment, the rope was so tight on the scrotum, forcefully ‘choking’ them, they looked like two furry and bloated berries. About to explode.
Again, that was not the only torment that had been inflicted on the Worgen. But Ashav first reached for the head underneath his posterior, and patted Thunder between the ears.
“Good boy,” praised Ashav.
Good boy.
That was how he praised and rewarded his two ‘most important’ prisoners, as he called them. His demeaning and patronizing way was completed by the fact that the completely naked Draenei was squatting atop Thunder’s posterior, his hooves firmly locked on the torture rack while his glutes were squeezing the Worgen’s muzzle.
A way to force them to teach about submission and worship, he said.
Still, he patted the Worgen, rewarding him with head pats until Thunder’s tongue licked the Warden’s sweaty orifice. And then, Ashav turned back to the silently crying Vulpera.
Crimson looked pathetic.
He whined and cried, his face a mask of tragedy, the Draenei read while tapping his lips with his index.
“Now, now. You can tell me what happened. Do not omit any details, Yip.”
“I… Please. I- I need to be healed. My… I hurt.”
“I know you hurt. But pain is a virtuous teacher. Now. Unless you desire to take Thunder’s spot, please recount to me what happened.”
The Vulpera gulped. He looked at the Worgen, still bound. At the bruises under the fur around his belly, at the pegs attached to Thunder’s nipples, and sheath. Then came the whiny explanation.
A long-winded tale about how, ever since Crimson had woken up, he’d been used.
By the guards, as they were taking advantage of the communal shower to pick on the Vulpera, fingering him before fucking him. Then the former teammates, from the young, scaled, and evidently innocent Dracthyr to the more seasoned criminals like Jes and Bobby Howlis, to the Blooded Hooves, a group of Taurens.
A long explanation that was often completed with the Vulpera crying and huffing, and certainly complaining about the pain in his belly that was full… Stuffed… Bloated with cum.
“That’s… That’s it. I came… I came for the daily report. But… My body hurts. Please! I- I cannot endure this anymore! I cannot endure this torture!”
Ashav shook his head and clicked his tongue, pressing his book spine against his lips.
“But this is redemption, Yip. For all the troubles you have caused, this is the way the world equalizes the torment you have unleashed.”
“I- I am hurting so much! You need to make it stop! This is not a prison! I- Why am I getting…”
“Getting? Please. Use your words.”
“Fucked. Fucked like a whore.”
Ashav stopped the tapping and finally set the book aside. Or rather, he let it levitate towards its spot on the shelf. Then, despite the tonguing and licking, the Draenei stood up.
His genitals, heavy and leathery, dangled from between his legs. His cock, flared and sheathed, remained an imposing presence compared to all the toys, all the trinkets, all the dicks Crimson had taken.
And yet… The Draenei stepped off the torture rack to approach the Vulpera and then squat behind him, passing his hand on the furry shoulders.
“They are driven by revenge and need. And potentially herd mentality. They see in you the face of all their troubles, although I can admit you have wronged many.”
“I… I hate this. You… Force us.”
“No. I do not force you,” said Ashav, his voice suave right by the Vulpera’s ears as he passed his fingers against the cum-coated fur, poking at the bruises underneath: arms, pectorals, abdominal muscles, legs.
“You… We cannot fight back. Because of this!” shouted Crimson, his fingers pointing at the collar before the metal flared up, warmed up… And the hand dropped. “See? And you like it.”
“My appreciation for this situation is not important. What matters is how they will learn. Much like how you learn humility. But I can see…”
“See?”
“See that you have learned much. Much more today,” said the Draenei, his eyes glowing.
Then, the same glow went to his fingertips, going through them as he pressed on the Vulpera’s guts. For a brief moment, light magic was woven, then forcefully went inside the Vulpera, who sighed.
And then frowned when the spell was over, and the glow vanished.
“What… What about the rest?” cried the Vulpera, mentioning all the bruises that covered him.
“Nothing life-threatening or long-lasting. Only the penance of today.”
“P-Please!”
So followed the whine. A whine that made the Draenei raise his eyes toward the bound Worgen before he snapped his fingers. The knob on the torture rack turned, and the pressure on the Worgen’s limbs and testicles increased, with a muffled yelp.
“Yip. Pain is to be welcomed. It is a virtuous teacher. Without it, would you have respected your peers? If you could fight, how could it have ended, in your death… Right?”
Yes. It could have ended in Crimson and Thunder’s death.
Because the moments the prisoners went inside their cell, the two had been stripped of their will, of their freedom, of their desire to fight.
Since then, they had been nothing more than toys of abuse. Crimson went abused, fucked, shared among the inmates. Thunder? He mainly had the guards or some inmates, though it was primarily the former lately.
“Yes,” replied the Vulpera, his eyes dropping.
“Good. So please. I do not want to hear you cry about the pain and the suffering. You are stronger; you can endure. Come… Let’s look at Thunder.”
With a Schlorp, Crimson’s asshole released the plug inside him.
His legs, which had been thoroughly abused and bruised, moved with a mechanical motion as the Vulpera approached the torture rack.
The hands and neck were still, as were the hips. But the eyes went and danced, going on everything that had been forced onto Thunder.
Solidified wax covered the Worgen’s nipples and chest. Pegs were attached to his balls, pulling on the skin. His eyes had been blindfolded and his face muzzled. And there were hints of cotton that had been sticking to his skin, revealing his ears might have been partially plugged.
Sensory deprivation.
Crimson shuddered as he opened his mouth and yet, observed as Ashav’s hand stroked the Worgen’s belly, on the slightly distended skin. Cum… He, too, had been filled.
“Are you asking how long he has been tied like that?” asked Ashav, smiling.
Crimson nodded.
“We have been rereading ‘On the Virtue of Discipline’. We started at Chapter five.”
So long… Crimson shuddered and scrunched up his nose while the Draenei went around and grabbed something behind the torture rack.
On a small altar, before a triptych depicting the Draeneis’s exodus, the Draenei was burning a few red candles. He picked a candle, tilting it so the scalding hot wax landed on an index finger. He did not whine; he did not wince.
Crimson shuddered at the potential pain, imagining it easily.
Yet, the Draenei looked quite relaxed as he approached, naked as he was, and… Tilted the candle above Thunder’s belly.
“HRMPHHH!” shouted Thunder, trying to shake his head before he froze.
“Ah. Thunder. You are always failing at this trick,” said Ashav, snapping his fingers.
The knob of the torture rack turned, and the Worgen’s whine grew, his ears dropping close to his head. As for Crimson, he shuddered.
“Would you rather take his spot? You have been quite busy with your fellow. But I can always open a slot in my schedule for you, Yip.”
“No. I- I-“
“You? Weren’t you complaining about them and their poor treatment?” asked the Draenei, tilting the candle again. A droplet of red wax landed on the thinned belly fur, making the Worgen grunt.
Even his abdominal muscles tensed at the reaction, his back arching while his pectorals were puffed out.
“I will not complain anymore,” said Crimson, lowering his head.
“That’s good. Now… We shall discuss your situation,” said Ashav. “And your future.”
Crimson tilted his head, one ear dropping, while his right eyebrow was lifted.
It was the first time they had mentioned the subject. Whenever that Draenei bastard had the occasion, he would use any meeting to torture them.
But now, he acted even more calmly than usual as he tilted the candle, with more wax landing on the Worgen’s chest, eliciting another whine from Thunder.
“Is there any change?” asked Crimson, grimacing slightly.
“Quite a change. The jury has finally decided your case. It didn’t take much for them to be swayed either.”
“Swayed? For what? I don’t expect freedom.”
Even Thunder nodded and mumbled, his tongue out of the small hole inside the muzzle.
“Death.”
Crimson froze. Even Thunder froze.
What did not stop was the flickering flame and the candle that was purposefully positioned above the Worgen’s groin now, before a droplet landed on the pubes. Sure enough, Thunder groaned again.
“Quite the statement, isn’t it?”
“D-Death? Are you serious?”
“Quite the case,” confirmed Ashav, nodding. His expression was somber, if not for the curled corner of his lips. “I have received the confirmation of the judgment.”
“… D-Death,” mumbled Crimson, blinking. “I-… I thought…. I-“
“You thought you wouldn’t be executed. That Kul Tiras has grown beyond its older years. How sweet of you,” replied Ashav, his voice cloying as he had one droplet landing on the Worgen’s cage, right onto the cock. There was a smell of burned flesh and precum… Plus the cries. The wax must have gotten inside.
“Ah… Sweet innocence,” said Ashav, with a sigh. “Your actions make you criminals and individuals capable of volition. But your hearts remain innocent and pure like a child. You are so naive about the suffering in this world. Untaught.”
His voice was like a chant, a singing, as he held the wax tilted. He didn’t adjust it. No. The Draenei now let the little droplets land on Thunder’s balls with regularity, adding up to the pinching pegs or the strangulating rope.
The Worgen’s shaking was going rampant, faster, but the Draenei showed no signs of stopping.
“You murdered a few people. You led some to the path of despair, agony, or even suicide. Through your indirect actions, you pushed people to commit the grave crime of taking what the Light gave them.”
Crimson frowned. His tongue even clicked… Eliciting a change with Ashav turning to him and then raising his hand.
“Come. We will talk about your crimes in a proper position,” said Ashav. “Come to me. On your knees.”
Crimson certainly regretted it. He clenched his eyelids shut, but he didn’t have to see to walk around the torture rack and then to go on his knees by the Warden. Nor did he have to receive any more orders, as his hands went to the ground in a prostrate position.
His posterior was lifted, his tail pressed against his back until the Draenei could observe the Vulpera’s gaping and ruined asshole, the entrance that couldn’t close itself anymore, and dripped cum all over his taint.
Such a vision. Such a ruined vision that didn’t seem to bother the Draenei much as he merely extended his arm and…
Let one droplet land on Crimson’s asshole, right on the rim. That burn, it was real… And the Vulpera cried, his shrill voice cutting through the silence.
But the heat quickly dissipated as the wax hardened.
“Please. Educate me about why you feel frustrated with your own judgment.”
“I- I’m not!” said Crimson, heaving before he cried again, the wax landing on another part of his asshole. His rim closed up, but the heat and burn had already passed.
“You clicked your tongue. Even for someone who doesn’t hail from the Alliance or my world, it is a universal way to express their disapproval. Please. Tell me.”
“I-.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t like it when others have control over me! I don’t want to let them- Choose my death!”
Silence.
But Crimson blinked as he didn’t feel the wax land on his posterior and burden himself. Instead, he heard the hooves going around and… Something being removed.
Heaves followed, then the sound of deglutition.
“What about you, Nestor? What do you think of this judgment?”
“I don’t- want to die,” gargled Thunder, swallowing his saliva and certainly fighting against his tongue. He didn’t know where to put anymore.
“Nobody wants to die. But do you disapprove of the justice system for what it decided?”
“I- don’t like it,” gargled Thunder.
“We don’t want to die,” repeated Crimson.
Words that earned him another wax droplet and another hit of searing heat that went through his posterior. The Vulpera’s fingers dug into the floorboard as he could sense… His asshole clenching and his cock drip on the floor.
If it were more wax than that, the Vulpera would have been…
“Nobody yearns for Death unless they sin against the light,” said Ashav. “But to return to the judgment. In your case, it wasn’t fair.”
“It- It’s not?” asked Crimson, his ears standing up… And dropping when the wax landed on his posterior. That pain, it was so much, even his guts clenched, forcing his ass to squeeze out whatever cum remained inside in a loud spurt. “F-Fuck!”
“Language. Yip,” said the Draenei, his voice stiff.
“Sorry,” replied the Vulpera, his eyes watering. That pain… It was too much. But he said he wouldn’t complain.
“Excuses accepted. So. Your judgment was inconsiderate of your situation. You weren’t taught proper etiquette or given a chance in this world. You have never been rehabilitated. Furthermore, a few political figures pressed the prosecution to propose a death sentence.”
“They… They did?”
“Without so much as a doubt. Greed is another sin, one I cannot rehabilitate in those who commit it most. Nobles. They are taking advantage of the alliance's trade routes. And since a few fellows caught you, you… Shall be an example.”
Crimson gulped. Thunder gulped.
They were not mere criminals; they were definitely picked as scapegoats to deter other criminals. Worse criminals like those who thrived in the sodden depths of the prison.
However, this situation… Oh, it was different for the two as they gulped… And Crimson fought against the tears and the shudders threatening to overtake him.
“What… Should we do?”
“Do? Nothing,” said the Draenei, the wax burning and making the Worgen cry. “Your situation has already been decided. But… Perhaps I can offer you my mercy.”
“Your… Mercy?” asked Crimson.
His neck wasn’t locked, so he could turn and twist his head to look at the Draenei’s hooves and legs. Ashav was the Warden of the prison. If he put in a good word or something. Could he spare them?
“Could you… Could you help us? We… We want it!”
“Yes! Yes!” repeated Thunder, eager to jump in with Crimson.
Yet, as Crimson’s lips were released, same for his spine and torso, he met eye to eye with the grinning Draenei.
“Oh. Your devotion to the Light is so pure. Sure enough, I shall impart to you my wisdom before the Light takes you.”
“Before the Light-“
Crimson blinked, but his mouth no longer answered his orders.
No, his entire body was no longer in control, and it seemed the same was for Thunder. Their eyes could meet, betraying the fear. But… Crimson and Thunder were reduced to puppets.
Crimson stood up, and his fingers moved on their own to liberate Thunder’s limbs. They turned the knob, lessening the pressure. And then, he undid the ropes tying the legs and arms before Thunder, too, could move.
In the meantime, the Draenei had moved away…
No, he had reached for something. For another book and two articles of clothing. Even another blindfold.
The mere sight made Crimson shudder, but, much like Thunder, he took the blindfold and put it on. No more vision, no more light. Yet, he could… Feel his body moving. Acting. Doing something. Grabbing something, putting something on.
Then, feeling the cold air from the prison brush his body.
“It is such a grand act to offer oneself to the Light as such. I shall honor your wish and make it real,” said Ashav, his voice portentous.
But so were portending the snickering Guards, or the whispers.
‘They’re gone soon.’ ‘Fuck. I’ll miss that hole.’
Boots followed the procession as the duo continued to march and descend stairs. They were no longer with the Guards.
Did… Did Ashav even go downstairs unless it was for an introduction?
The Vulpera shuddered and felt the stinging glares hit him in the back, but his steps continued… They descended. To the sodden depths. To the edge of the Prison. Right where the lowest of the lowest were.
But Ashav even seemed to hum a tune.
“Please. My friends. Make haste. For those two noble souls are offering their services,” shouted Ashav.
‘What’s happening?’ ‘The Warden is here?’ ‘What is he doing here?’
None of the prisoners seemed to understand as Crimson was forcefully bent over. Then, his hands went onto his posterior.
He could not see, but he could hear the awe and the cries of satisfaction, even the whistling from the prisoners. The result of the Howlis abuse was on display, and it must have been the same for Thunder’s orifice.
Yet, they were forced to endure that posture as Ashav spoke.
“For today. I shall dedicate all my time to educating our two friends before their departure to Kul Tiras. In that… I encourage all the prisoners to help them.”
“Help… Them? How?”
“Simply…”
There was a sudden inspiration from Thunder, followed by the sound of suction, of an orifice squeezing on fingers, swallowing, and sucking on them.
It definitely wasn’t Crimson’s ass. So it has to be the Worgen’s as the fingers went in and out, definitely playing with the orifice. Then…
“Yes? Kestan?” asked Ashav.
“Does it mean we can… Fuck them when we want?”
“Yes. Until their departure, you can ask a Guard to leave your cell, even during the night, to use them.”
“With no issues?”
“Not at all. I shall ensure they remain healthy and fit for the different duties they shall undertake.”
“What kind of duties?”
“Devotion. Love. Charity. Humility. Wisdom. These are the virtues I will try to impart to them. Hence, we shall begin with devotion to others. Who desires to start?”
A commotion echoed behind… But then… Someone approached. Heavy, wide… Powerful. The stone shook under him, and there was silence in the crowd.
“Perfect. I invite you to use our diminutive Friend. He has been the most vocal about it.”
-
If Crimson wasn’t suffocating, he definitely felt it so.
The calloused hands were on either side of his head, squeezing it with an enough pressure that it felt like it could pop his skull.
Yet, the worst was the beating his mouth, lips, and jaw were taking. The Kul Tiran’s balls were smacking against his chin constantly. The movements, regular and fast, were unkind to the Vulpera.
The cocktip, at the end of the elongated cock, constantly prodded his uvula. It hit it; it smacked the throat, it smacked the esophagus… And though it definitely hurt to the point of making Crimson wince… He wasn’t retching.
His gag reflex was gone, even when the Human’s cock sank deep inside his mouth, the pubes pressing against his nose, and the balls resting against his chin.
There it was… the sight. The groan. The huffs. But… It was there, the familiar warmth sensation that was deep into Crimson’s belly, settling into his belly and easing his guts before the Human sighed, pulled out, and hid his genitals back into his pants…
Leaving the Vulpera bound to the walls, forced to squat on a plug.
That was something far from innocent, much like the cage or the chain joining the cockcage he wore to the nose ring he had.
As for Thunder, he looked no different, though he didn’t have cum dripping from his lips.
“Are you okay?”
“I… Am,” answered Crimson, shaking his head. He didn’t have enough spite left in him to hate Thunder.
Not after the treatment they’d taken from the Warden.
As if he’d opened the valves of a dam, all the needs and desires of the prisoners had been unleashed, even the weak bottom feeders.
The result was for the week they had left in the prison was… The worst week they’d endured.
They had been fucked til their scratched-out backs bled. Until they passed out. Until even their guts felt wrong and ill.
Each time, the Warden’s hand landed on their wounds, erasing the troubles but not the abuse they were to receive from the other criminals.
It only encouraged them to do more. Day… And night. Day and night. Even now, Crimson could barely feel his legs. They had been healed of any potential wounds. But the soreness of squatting, bending over, or spreading them for days remained.
He was… No. Thunder, too. They were ruins, their bodies utterly broken to the point that even breathing was hard.
“So… … That’s it?” asked Crimson, looking around the room. The waves splashed against the walls hull. The distant cries constantly reminded Crimson of the people wanting their heads.
“Yeah,” mumbled Thunder in return.
They were gone. Done for. Boots were stomping around, and Crimson closed his eyes, pressing his head against the wood.
“What a run…” huffed Crimson, almost spitting those words.
“That was fun.”
“That was crap,” replied Crimson, shaking his head. “I spend more time than I’d like, starving. Where were the promises of endless wine?”
“We wasted them. We broke too many bottles.”
“Sure, we did. The wine cave was broken due to a stupid fight. We could have been rich.”
“And that gold statue.”
“Yeah. Thrown into the sea. They haven’t found it yet.”
“I don’t think so.”
Crimson clicked his tongue again, his chin raised. Then he looked at the lamp above, listening to the distant mumbles of someone addressing a crowd. A speech. That was it.
The weather was so sunny and dry, it was almost perfect for all the Kul Tirans and their ‘allies’ to celebrate that event, the death of two capital criminals, two terrorists.
“Do you think they know… About the prison?”
“Nobody can tell… Should we?”
“No. They’ll think it’s us rambling.”
“But do we have anything to lose?”
“…” Crimson ruminated on it, listening to the crowd answering the speech, roaring. Someone must have been preparing them. “No. Think about our reputation.”
“Our reputation?”
“We’ll die as criminals. That’s how it is. If we die while telling what happened, what will they think?”
“… … Right,” said Thunder, looking down.
“Plus. Would you tell them you came from being fucked in the ass?”
“No.”
“Neither.”
Definitely not.
Crimson’s ego wouldn’t let him do that. And Thunder seemed far too ashamed to say otherwise. Hence, the Vulpera leaned back against the wall, trying to adjust his posture despite the plug wedged inside his ass.
“Imagine. We’ll be the worst criminals of this generation. We pillaged towns, we ruined good trades. We burned ships and all. We instilled fear in them. We made them cry for mercy! Wasn’t it good enough?”
Thunder didn’t answer.
“We had fun at the brothels, too! And look at what we forced them to do! They had to lie to the people for us. No, worse! They even made execution legal.”
“That was legal back home.”
“Yeah, but that’s not Gilneas! Here, it means something! We changed things! We made them… Fear us to the point they’d go back on their principles! We are something!”
Crimson’s heart pumped faster. He could… He could feel the moment.
Fear. Yes. But those words were meant to reassure Thunder as much as to reassure himself. Maybe… It wasn’t all bad. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible.
Maybe it was a good run.
“That’s them.”
The voice caught Crimson by surprise. He looked at the entrance, seeing one Worgen and a Kul Tiran. With the Worgen looking quite similar, he held a flask and drank from it before hiding it away.
“You are indeed something,” said the Worgen, smirking.
The Kul Tiran remained, though he didn’t look like a guard. More like a priest or a shaman.
“How long were you listening?” asked Crimson, snorting.
“Long enough to hear you admit your crimes. Don’t worry, I have no plans to add them to the stack of papers I’ll have to fill,” said the Commander. Now, Crimson could remember it. That was the alliance commander who’d captured them.
“That’s you who’s handling our execution?” asked Crimson, turning to Thunder, who looked back at him.
“That’s me. Since I captured you, it’s my reward to have you taken away. Do you have any last words to say?”
“Last words? Tsh. They’ll ask us that on the gibbet.”
“Sure, they will. But between you and me. Not the politicians who will prod you,” said the Worgen, his smile growing.
“Can I have a buffet?” asked Thunder.
Everyone’s eyes turned to him, with Crimson frowning.
“That’s last words. Not the last wishes or the last meal.”
“Oh… But I didn’t have a last meal,” mumbled Thunder, lowering his muzzle. “We’ve got nothing to say.”
“See. My friend speaks for me,” commented the Vulpera. “I’ve got nothing to add.”
The Worgen Commander ruminated for a moment, his tongue rolling in his mouth before he produced a chirping sound from sucking in air. Then, he turned to the Priest.
“Go on. Wash them.”
Crimson’s eyes turned to the Kul Tiran right on time.
Already, the old man was holding a bubble of water, and then hot, clean water was poured on them. It hit their faces, their bodies, their bindings. It was hot, but not burning.
And honestly? Crimson was almost glad to have received a last shower as the water ran across his fur and limbs, going under his armpits or between his legs… Even against his asshole that was still suctioning on the buttplug.
And though he gritted his teeth when some water squeezed in, it took away… The sticky sensation of cum being sandwiched between his cheeks.
Quite a soothing result for the Vulpera as the water receded, and his fur was not only clean but dry. A similar situation for Thunder as he looked at his hands and his legs.
“Good. Now. Let’s get you prepared. We don’t want the people to see you ‘customized’ after the prison.”
Sure enough, that made sense; they wouldn’t… have them naked in front of a crowd with potentially children.
However, the preparation included a lot of fighting as a group of guards entered with linen clothes, untied the two criminals, and forced them to put the clothes on.
The chains linking their piercings were removed, similarly to the most visible piercings on the nose or ears.
However, nothing was made about the cages.
“Hey. Fuckers. Remove the cages, too!” shouted Crimson.
“No luck. Someone asked you to keep them!”
“What do you mean? Someone asked?”
The Guard shrugged at the question, the same as any poor fucker who was asked. In the end, the Vulpera and the Worgen were made presentable in undistinct, undied linen shirts and pants that were far too loose to reveal the details of their anatomy to the crowd.
Finally, with only the barest of handcuffs to tie them together, with their bodies sore and too abused to fight back, the two Criminals stepped out in the midday sun.
The Unity Square was… Definitely not up to Crimson’s tastes. Same with Thunder as they entered it while surrounded by the guards.
The crowd was eyeing them silently, though insults were breathed and offered.
Something Crimson responded by tilting his head like a ‘gentleman’ would do. Or at least did for the first three before he received a smack on the cap and was forced to look ahead and stay steady as the cobblestone walkway led them in front of Daelin’s statue.
“Ugh. They should have replaced it with a pile of crap,” huffed Crimson, decidedly soured. Furthermore, when another smack on the cap made him tilt his head forward, and look at his feet.
Finally, they arrived at the makeshift gallows, an excessively tall stage made of wood, built like a box with the gibbet placed on top.
On the side, a tribune had been built with a slew of people sitting on it. Nobles with their makeup. Merchants in their gold-laced clothes. Politics wearing their pompous attitudes.
All the people Crimson hated as he was forced to climb the stairs to the gallows, before he was placed next to the first gibbet. Thunder right to the next one.
Finally, one of the pompous pricks approached. A human with a bald head, with a few strands holding onto his sides.
“Crimson Shadow! Silver Thunder! You stand accused by the entire nation of Kul Tiras!” shouted the guy, reading from a little tablet in his hands. “You have been accused of acts of thievery, murder, smuggling, terrorism, de-“
“Blablabla!” shouted Crimson, eliciting outraged cries from the crowd as they hid their faces. “Get on with it! We know what they all want!”
“Yeah! We don’t have all day!”
The Human eyed his fellows on the tribune, who nodded. He eyed the guards, even the ones who’d been about to smack Crimson’s head. He gulped, adjusted his bow tie, and turned the tablet to the other side.
“For all your crimes! You have been judged culpable. For those crimes, you will be executed and hanged!”
“You… Really, never have I done that, don’t you?” asked Crimson.
“He’s new at this.”
‘Bastard!’ ‘Shut them up!’ ‘Get done with that farce!’ ‘Their heads!’
Finally, Crimson rolled his eyes and snickered, looking at his partner. Somehow, as they were facing their death sentences, they chuckled. They couldn’t do otherwise. All the fear and tension had vanished, replaced by a sort of joy… Or glee as they were making a mockery of all those bastards. They had them crying, shouting, rambling. And then, even as the rope was tied around their necks, they continued to laugh.
Though it stopped as fabric was stuffed in their mouths.
“You… Criminals shall have their last words. But we have heard enough of your disdain for our proud nation! Executioner?”
Crimson looked over his shoulder. He eyed the executioner, the pale human, with a masked face, holding onto the lever that was supposedly linked to their gibbet.
That guy was even checking, enough for Crimson to snort and raise his nose at him, with Thunder imitating him.
“Executioner?!”
“Ready!” shouted the masked human, adjusting his mask.
“Proceed!”
THUNK!
_The trapdoor under the two dropped.
For a moment, the whole nation of Kul Tiras had its eyes locked on the stage. Even the few who weren’t there had mages creating illusions to show what was one of the most recent public executions on the island.
Children cried, girls ran to their mothers’ robes. But cheers followed. Fists were lifted while some guards saluted, and the usual upper-crust shook hands or nodded among themselves.
‘That is a grand day!’ ‘We shall show how we treat criminals here!’_
_All in front of the hanging corpses dangling from the ropes.
As the wind pushed them, they swung, and the ropes creaked, the feet almost hitting the sides of the open trapdoor.
Then came the cheers of a nation, for that day no one was to work except the soldiers and the guards._
_Many tables had been set up on the nearby squares, covered with food from across the islands, to feed a population that had been plagued by fear and horror at the presence of those two criminals.
They cheered, danced, and drank. Musicians were given stages, followed by artists, even mages or enchanters.
‘The end of the crime’ would be the next headlines on the many newspapers across Kul Tiras and the Alliance.
Some would judge it, saying it is barbaric and was the first path to constant murders and the death of freedom._
_The corpses would remain there, hanging… And left to rot, though with some children coming to throw rotting fruits at them or trying to poke them with a stick before a guard chased them away.
But none… None had dared to verify what was under the stage or what really happened.
To many, the Criminals were gone. And they were certain of it._