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[A story based on a picture I commissioned from Omega and Faithry, posted to my FA and Yiffstar galleries. Porn follows! Copyright me, all rights reserved, et cetera.]

1. Taking Stock

Setta let out a grunt, her thoughts returning to the present, away from that strangely vivid dream she had last night, unsure of why it had suddenly crossed her mind. It didn't help her current situation much to think back on dreams... not that much of anything was going to help her current situation much.

The dragoness was bound naked in a pillory, bent at the waist with her neck and wrists fitted into holes in a board fixed at waist-height in front of her, closed over the top of her neck and hands to bind them in place. Cuffs on her ankles were linked to stakes dug deep into the ground, holding her legs wide and far enough back to keep her forced to stay bent forward instead of crouching. Another cuff around her tailtip was locked to the back of her collar, keeping her rear pulled up and lewdly exposed.

The town square was busy around her - mostly to her left, as the stocks were set up so that those bound in them would be presented in profile to most of the crowd, facing one of the streets entering the plaza. A paddle hung on the side of the stocks, provided by the swan noble who she'd inadvertently offended, with a cutout of the swan's personal sigil, a swan-head emblem. Her face flushed in shame at being so exposed before friends, neighbors, customers, and strangers, thinking miserably of how she had come to such an ignominious position...

... A simple enough story, really, your basic tale of an honest merchant and a prickly noble passing by and unwilling to accept any explanation for a moment's discommodation. She'd just received her new sign to replace the old one, which had been fading and fragile for a while before finally the boards gave way on a windy night. Unfortunately, it had rather badly bent the frame in the process, so she had to wrestle with a large set of pliers while balancing atop a crate just to get started, trying to remove the remains of the old sign.

It ended up taking several hours to dig out the four thick bolts that had held the old sign in place, well sunk into the mortered stone. By the time she was done, her arms were sore and she'd scratched up her shoulder-scales something good rubbing them against the facade of the building, yanking and pulling on the tools. And that wasn't even getting the new sign up, just getting the area clear of the wreck!

After an even more tiresome time trying to hold up a new piece of ironmongery against the wall while fitting a new bolt through it and into the existing holes in the stone, she finally managed to get the new holder for the sign up, extending out from the building with two cleverly recurved hooks to hold the new sign on and not let it swing off even in the highest of winds - at least as long as the bolts held it to the building, anyhow. But the price for that additional security in the hold was more effort to get it onto the thing in the first place!

So there she as, holding the heavy sign stretched overhead, straining to get it onto the first hook, when a voice behind her called out, "Out of the way!" Tired, frustrated, and clearly unable to move expeditiously, she grumbled back, "Hold your horses, or just step around!" She kept her attention on the sign; it was halfway on one hook, just needed a little twist to get it to hang properly...

"Seize her!" came that voice, furious, and Setta let out a startled yelp as thick, strong arms grabbed her by the back of the neck and hauled her, arms cartwheeling, sign swinging down to smack noisily at an angle against the side of the building and crack the corner, off the crate she was using to stand on! Two burly equine guards, a pair of blank-faced white unicorns, forced her to her knees and grabbed one of the spikes on the back of her head to force her to look up at the one who had called out.

Her heart sank as she saw the face of Lady Faithry, well-known as one of the most prominent faces of the town, known for her extravagant parties, large collection of unusually thoroughly trained slaves, and decadent displays of power... and her even-for-a-noble intense insistence on deference from those around her. Setta was a town citizen, and even a visitor could hardly have been ordered to 'penal servitude' for such a minor offense - but it still did not bode anything but terribly for her. Even her own minor-nobility status, automatic for full-blooded dragons in acknowledgement of their historical capacities on the battlefield, was hardly going to help her.

It was the last thing she saw for a while, as a stifling, heavy leather bag was pulled over her head and loosely tied around her neck, her hands tied behind her back, and one of those large hands holding her left bicep to make her walk along with them. Unable to see and barely able to hear muffled sounds, she stumbled frequently, kept upright by those strong hands holding her. At length she found herself walking on stone floors - and then the hands let go of her arms and one pushed her sharply in her back, making her stumble forward, then fall to her knees, still hooded. A door slammed, and she reached up to fumble the mask off.

She was in a heavy stone cell with a thick wooden door; a window high up on the wall with wide bars was the only source of light. She looked around the room and had to count herself lucky she hadn't been locked into the manacles on the walls - set up high enough that even though she was tall for this town, she would be off the ground... with her ankles near the low sets of manacles. She shuddered and sat on the wooden platform that was as close as the cell had to a bed, head whizzing with regrets about her terrible luck.

She wasn't left waiting for long. Not more than an hour or so later, the door opened again and revealed Lady Faithry standing there, looking coolly contemptuous. Without preamble, she stated, "You have been found guilty of offering impudence to your betters. I have sentenced you to a year of imprisonment as my decoration. As I am currently rather satisfied with my decor, you may mitigate this to a month in the stocks by immediate good behavior. Good behavior consists of demonstrating your immediate understanding of and apology for your misbehavior." The swan tossed a pair of manacles into the cell.

"You may demonstrate your remorsefulness by stripping naked and binding your hands behind your back right now without question or resistance. You may then apologize by reading the script I will provide you when you are bound into the stocks - again without question or resistance."

Setta's face flushed hot. It was a fact of life in the city that everyone had to get used to submitting to the feudal structure in place; anyone higher-ranking could make terrible trouble for anyone below them, and either you learned to live with submission at need, or you left the city. And much as it galled her, the city was just too lucrative a place for her to seriously consider leaving... even now, when she'd run afoul of its strictures. It had gotten easier and easier with every passing month to reconcile herelf to bowing when she had to, and she'd even started some experiments to find out if the rumors were true and there *was* something in the water to encourage it.

Feeling the swan's eyes on her, the red-faced dragoness pulled off her cloak, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything. The 'decorations' of Lady Faithry's home were notorious; lewd, decadent, and designed specifically to break the will of those thus displayed. She folded the cloak and set it aside, then drew her warm heavy shirt over her head, letting her large, soft breasts sway free; she hadn't bound them while she was re-hanging the sign, since she wasn't planning on any particularly vigorous movements in the process. The higher-ranking noble continued to watch silently, so she hung her head in embarassment and opened the belt of her skirt. Since she was going to be standing on an elevated position, she had worn panties beneath, a scrap of silk for modesty in case someone came up to try to steal a glance.

The panties soon joined the skirt and shirt and cloak atop the wooden 'bed', and she took up the cuffs. One pressed down onto her right wrist, and then she crossed her wrists behind her back. Getting the second cuff on took some fumbling, but she managed it, and let out a slight sigh of relief. Humiliated and exposed in front of the swan she might be, but she'd avoided that term as decoration. Lady Faithry let out a quiet hmmm, regarding her naked body.

"Perhaps I might be able to use a bauble around the fireplace... but, no, perhaps later." She smirked slightly at Setta. "If I send a messenger to command you to my house at some later date, you will promptly arrange your affairs to allow for a week of your absence, and you will come to serve the balance of your suspended sentence. If I like the way you look, perhaps I might even hire you for it again afterward... if you manage to avoid incurring further legal penalties that would save me the cost of your time, of course. Refusing an offer from me is of course a form of impudence on its own. But first we'll see how you do in the stocks. Guards! Begin."

The unicorn guards came back in and hooded her again; this time one picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, not even letting her walk on her own! She could hear the swan saying loudly to her, "Do not struggle, or you will serve two months - or forfeit your 'good behavior' entirely." Setta's cheeks were hot under the hood, but she held herself still, biting her tongue in frustration as she was carried along with her ass in the air.

She soon felt herself being set on her feet; the guards' hands reached down to shove her legs apart, then heavy metal cuffs locked tightly on her ankles, not giving her any significant ability to move her feet - a few inches wider if she shifted her weight a bit, but no closer together. A hand grabbed her tailtip and pulled high until she was forced to bend forward and set her neck into a cutout in a wooden bar in front of her, bent at the waist. The cuffs came off her wrists and the guards' thick fingers pulled her hands into place alongside her neck, and the top bar came down, locking her head and hands in place.

Finally, another cuff clamped around her tail, about a foot from the tip, and pulled up until it locked against the top of the pillory, binding her with her rear raised and exposed. Once she was thus bound fully in place, the hood was pulled from her head. Her blush promptly returned, finding herself exactly where she'd known she was ending up, in the public pillory of the town square, exposed to anyone who cared to look - and as usual, the establishment of a new prisoner in the pillory had drawn a crowd.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was going to face diminished margins for *months* as a result of this, accumulated in diminished respect from suppliers and customers alike cutting into her bargaining power. Most of the rest of her mind was filled with humiliation, squirming and trying to pull her tail down to cover her privates. The last bit was noting that she was putting on the 'stock dance' every prisoner ended up doing, the squirm and wriggle that never succeeded in doing anything but drawing *more* attention to their exposure. Still, she found she couldn't quite master herself enough to hold still.

A hand came to lightly stroke at her exposed rear end; smaller and more delicate than the martial grips of the guards, it had to be from the Lady Faithry, letting Setta know she was still being watched. One of the guards lowered a sheet of paper in front of the dragoness' nose, reminding her that she'd been told she had to make a public apology as well. This one was clearly going to be an *extremely* public apology... but at this point, even refusing and ending up as a decoration for a year wouldn't take back having been bent over naked in the town square. Gut clenching in embarassment, she began to read - a finger jabbing at her buttock after the first word made her read it properly loudly.

"I, Setta Flamowitz, hereby acknowledge my failure to show the Lady Faithry the level of respect appropriate to her station, and do humbly thank the Lady Faithry for her gracious and merciful offer to instruct her inferior in proper behavior. As part of said instruction, I beg the Lady Faithry to... to... to.. spank me like the spoiled child I resembled... each day... for a month... and further beg all... all who may be interested to... to make use of my body as they may see fit." Her face was crimson as she stumbled to the finish, throat closing up...

... and then she let out a loud, startled yelp as a loud CRACK! announced the contact of a flat wooden paddle, thin enough to be a little springy, against her bare buttock! It wasn't as powerful a swing as one of the guards might have managed, but something about the way it twitched at the end, flicking into place rather than a brute swing, somehow made the sting-tingle dance through her backside all the more fiercely. The sound rang out through the square, and her cheeks stayed hot, seeing the eyes turning to watch - those that weren't already looking at her sleek naked body.

The spanking proceeded in a steady, unhurried beat. A loud, sharp CRACK as the paddle landed, squarely across both cheeks each time, lingering against her bare bottom a moment, then a slow pull away, and then the next blow. It didn't really hurt, though, she realized; yes, there was a strong tingle and throb in her rear, and a bit of a sting at the moment of contact, but it wasn't really painful. And then her eyes widened as she realized... she was getting wet.

It was immediately obvious to the swan as well. And if it wasn't immediately obvious to the crowd, it became so when Lady Faithry announced loudly, "Fond of spankings, are you? We'll see about that!" Setta bit her tongue to keep from replying and getting herself into even more trouble... but squirmed nervously, listening to laughs from the crowd and some rustling noises behind her.

"GYAH!" she yelped out sharply as something pressed firmly into her privates, a rounded end spreading her folds! The swan chuckled. "Looks like she likes her big piece of meat!" she announced with amusement to the watchers - and pressed the rest of the sausage into Setta's body, pushing with her fingers until the dragoness' folds almost-closed again behind it. "Let's let that marinate for a while, shall we?"

The paddle came back into action. With that fat sausage inside her, now Setta could feel how her insides clenched down every time a spank landed; she tried to grit her teeth, but a small gasp escaped anyhow every time. She was *sure* now that something in the city was affecting her; she couldn't *possibly* have this little control! A spot on her left buttock was stinging particularly hard with each strike, above the tingle making her backside dance, and she could feel herself dripping down her thighs, knowing everyone was watching her getting spanked to orgasm!

It didn't take long. Fewer than thirty strokes of the paddle later, Setta bucked against her bonds and let out a scream, climaxing hard, head jerking back and mouth gaping wide as it raced through her with a power and intensity she had never imagined she could feel, every inch of her body exploding with orgasmic pleasure! She gasped and slumped as it ended as quickly as it came, leaving her body feeling weak and shivery in the sudden afterglow that gripped her.

The swan's hand rested on her exposed bottom again, patting the sore spot; her other hand held the paddle up, letting Setta see the swan-head cutout that had left the bright welt on her left buttock. She set the paddle down, hanging it from a hook on the side of the pillory, and lewdly thrust two fingers into Setta's privates, pulling out the sausage. "And there we go. Nicely seasoned. The guards will be by in the evening to give you another, and again after nightfall to take you to your cell. Anyone who cares to will spank, fuck, or otherwise molest you as they wish. And I'm certain you know that anyone who wants to use a prisoner's mouth need only put the ring-gag on them. Behave yourself and learn some humility and perhaps you'll come out of this a little wiser... if wider."

Setta's face burned hot again as the swan strolled away with her guards, and the first of her 'admirers' came in to rest his hand between her legs, lewdly fingering her... and she found herself gasping despite herself, her body somehow left intensely sensitive from that spanking and climax! And on the busy, sunny day, there was just no way there was going to be any shortage of bored merchants and customers looking to amuse themselves for a while. She couldn't understand it, she *knew* she had more control than this - yet here she was, gasping and struggling in the stocks like any other criminal set out for punishment!

Warm fingers pressed against her responsive folds, spreading them; her head rocked again as a feline revealed himself behind her by his scratchy tongue against her privates, and she was completely unable to restrain a wail of pleasure! A throaty chuckle responded from behind her, and a purring voice said, "That's it, come for me..." She tried to stop herself, but then that tongue flicked at her clitoris and her hips bucked; his laugh and her blush rose together, and his warm breath blew against her exposed vaginal walls. Sensitive as she was, a few minutes of patient licking forced her to obey, crying out again as her honey spilled onto that scratchy tongue.

She was sagging and panting already, feeling his hands pat her tingling rear, and that was just the first male of the day... and his hands didn't leave her, indicating he wasn't finished! "And now my turn," came the lazy purr... and she screamed again as a thick male member drove easily into her silky-slick folds, thrusting hard enough to buck her up to the stocks, sending fiery lust spearing through her body. His lazy chuckle resounded in her ears as he commented, 'There's no sound quite so sweet as a dragoness mewling and squealing while you plow her... and no dragoness outside this city who'll mewl and squeal like it at all!" Her face burned, unable to master her voice as he rode her hard, making her shriek in pleasure over and over, feeling his thickness spreading her and filling her!

His balls slapped between her legs as he purred behind her, feeling her insides convulsing as waves of pleasure blazed through her, making her body strain and writhe, his furry belly against her well-reddened backside. His hands gripped her exposed hips, knees flexing as he shifted himself back, then rammed home again, forcing her to take him to the hilt and feeling her helpless body welcoming it. Her throat ached from her howls and she felt like her cheeks were ablaze, seeing friends, neighbors, customers, competitors, suppliers, strangers and more all in the square, seeing her writhe and be taken...

... though later that evening it was hardly any better when the guards shackled her to the wall and took her again, without an audience.