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Unnamed Mousie - Part 1: The Longest Day - Chapter 2: Humiliated

© 2015 - 2018 Nameless

Chapter 2: Humiliated

As much as my ears had strained to notice any noise from the outside while I waited, the first noise I actually heard was the loud clang as the bolt holding the door of my cell shut was thrown back. A moment later the door creaked open and light flooded my tiny cell. Now that the door was open, I could hear the steps as the person who had opened it as he stepped back. Nothing happened for a long moment and then a male voice spoke, "Come out." It was a strange voice, smooth, even oily, with an accent I could not place, but completely unlike accent I had ever heard. "If you prefer to stay in your hole I will come back in a day." After an unpleasant chuckle it added, "Or three." For a long moment I considered staying, but then the needs of my body won out. Muzzle burning with shame, I crawled out backwards, undoubtedly giving him a good show with my wiggling rear end. I hurt my shins on the step (the floor outside my cell was a foot or so below the floor in the cell) but kept going. Then I turned around, still on my knees. I was in a small room, perhaps three paces on a side, with a closed door set in the wall opposite the hole I had just crawled out of. In front of me stood the human I had seen in the officer's tent last night and behind him stood a guard wearing the Hessian colors on his shirt. I couldn't place the guard's breed, he looked like a canine, but a little off, possibly a mix of wolf and bear. Whatever he was, he was huge, his arms were thicker than my thighs and he looked strong enough to break me in two without breaking a sweat. And the evil grin on his muzzle told me that he would enjoy doing just that. Or, more likely, do things that were far more painful. This time the human male wore foreign clothes. A long white robe decorated with strange symbols, possibly foreign writing, stitched with colored thread, some of it even gold thread. He wore a strange garment on his head that looked almost as if he had wrapped a light blue towel around his head. Pinned to the cloth was a circular disk with strange symbols, presumably either his family crest or a symbol of his rank or guild. The clothes looked as if they had cost a king's ransom. He held a short wand in his right paw. Cowed I looked up at them. Besides my limbs felt so shaky that I wasn't sure if I could even have managed to stand up at the moment. The smile on the human's face was sweet, but in some way it terrified me more than any grimace of anger would have. He considered me for a long moment and then he said, "Your life is now in my hand. You have a choice now: You can be my slave, submit to me and obey my every command. You please me in any way I desire. Or you can die. If you do not want to serve me, I will give you to my friend here and you will die slowly and painfully." Panic rose up in me as I heard that and I tried to protest, I don't really know what I wanted to say, but while my mouth opened no sound came. Try as I might I could not speak! I couldn't even grunt or make any other noise with my mouth. In mindless desperation I tried to stand up, maybe even attack him. I didn't get far. I was only halfway on my feet when the collar suddenly constricted my throat like a noose. Forgetting everything else, my paws tried to loosed the collar, to let me breathe, only to slide uselessly off the smooth metal. Soon I began to feel faint and my legs buckled. Once I was back on my knees the collar loosened a little. Enough to let me breathe but only barely, just enough so I wouldn't suffocate, but every breath was a struggle. They watched my silent struggle, enjoying my helplessness. Somehow, even in my struggles, I noticed the huge bulge in the bear's pants. "If you want to be my slave and if you want to stay my slave you will learn many things. The first thing you will learn is how to beg. How to beg properly. I don't want an unwilling slave, you have to want it, you have to beg for me to accept you and you will have to beg properly and sincerely. You will either leave this room crawling at my heels or... " He drew a finger across his throat and looked meaningfully at the bear, leaving little doubt as to the alternative. "Do you want to know how to beg properly?" I looked up at him with terror, hatred and pride warring in my breast. But little by little the constant struggle to breathe wore down my defenses and finally I nodded. "First you kneel with your knees wide apart and your hands on the thighs, palm up. Keep your back straight and look down at ground between your legs. And raise your tail." It took a little more time to wear me down enough to overcome my humiliation at having to display my body in such a lewd manner. The human looked perfectly content to wait. When I had arranged my limbs in the manner he wanted, blushing furiously with embarrassment the collar loosened a little more. It was still uncomfortably tight but now I could at least breathe almost normally. He went on, "Keeping your hands where they are, you bend forward until your tits and your face touch the floor." Once more he waited until my will was worn down enough to suffer through this further humiliation. Hating myself, I finally prostrated myself in the manner he wanted. Well, almost, he added, "Your brow must touch the floor." I changed the position of my head as he desired. Apparently he didn't want me to be able to see much or anything at all while in this position. "You don't move a muscle while you wait until I move my shoes close enough for your tongue to reach them. Then you lick them until I am satisfied that you are sincere. If the shoes are dirty you clean them with your tongue." He let me wait in this uncomfortable position for a while before he went on, "If you stop licking my shoes before I accept you then I will know you are not sincere and I will leave you to my friend. A slave accepts anything her master chooses to give her. You swallow, you don't spit out anything." He let me ponder this for a bit while the big guard cracked his knuckles a few times. Then he stepped forward, placing the shoes on either side of my head. I had noticed the unpleasant smell before, but this close the stink really hit me. The shoes were soiled, not just with dirt but also with shit. I almost gave up at this point, but then the fear of torture and dying won out and I extended my tongue. I gagged and retched at the horrible taste, had my stomach been any less empty I would have thrown up. Touching the dirty shoes with my tongue the second time was the hardest, but after that what little will I had left crumbled and numbly I lapped at his disgusting shoes. "You don't seem all that serious about it." Admonished I licked harder, slowly cleaning the caked dirt off the shoes. I had no idea how long I had to do this, but it seemed to take forever. At some point he commented, "The heels are also dirty." I struggled to reach every part of my master's shoes without breaking the position I was in, wrapping my tongue around them. Eventually he was stepped back, "Not good enough." My heart almost stopped. He went on, "But not really bad. You may serve me." My heart almost skipped a beat when he added, "For now. You will have to learn to do much better and show a lot more enthusiasm. A slave should be happy when she is allowed to serve her master, no matter what he asks of her. For now you may behave as if I had accepted your service. If you are good, I will give you another chance to beg to be accepted as my slave." "Now follow me. Keep your head one step behind me and keep your eyes below the top of my shoes." With that he turned around and started walking. I crawled after him as fast as my trembling limbs allowed, breathing the dust his steps threw up. I had to struggle to obey the last command, my chin almost touched the floor as his shoes were cut low, barely more than two fingers above the ankles. My mind was in turmoil, half of me wanted to die of embarrassment, the rest was so numb it didn't care what further humiliations they might force on me.

The guard opened the door for my master. With a little shock I realized that I had addressed him as such in my thoughts. The mere thought disgusted me, but there was little I could do and the numb fear and the certain knowledge that any resistance would lead to my death kept me helpless and docile. Outside the door he turned to the left and walked down a long corridor. I struggled to keep up with him, within moments my knees hurt from my hurried movement over the rough stone. Doors were set into the walls at intervals on both sides of the corridor. Heavy doors with thick bars, presumably leading to more cells. Behind me I heard the door clang shut and then the heavy footfalls of the guard following us. My master went up a couple of stairs. I struggled to follow, hurting my shins. There was a small landing with another door, in front of which he stopped. After a few moments the door was opened from the other side and I followed my master into the room beyond. It was a guardroom, obviously set here to guard the prison. My master stopped in the middle of the room and perforce so did I. I cringed as I took in the rest of the room, trying to hide while at the same time not daring to move. In addition to the guard at the door, several more Hessan brutes lounged at a table, all eyes on me. Wide, evil grins formed on their muzzles as their eyes bored into my exposed body. Their expressions said it all, they enjoyed my humiliation and they would gladly do whatever they could to increase it, That and worse. Panting in fear, I suddenly realized that I was praying for my master to protect me from them. When my master turned around and his shoes were suddenly directly in front of my muzzle my tongue leaped out almost of its own accord, desperately begging him to protect me. After a moment he looked down, a cruel smile of pleasure on his lips while his eyes bored into mine, mocking my weakness. I didn't dare stopping until he finally stepped back and to the side. As soon as my master was not in the way any more I noticed a pelt hanging on the wall in front of me. It took me a moment to realize what was wrong about it. Suddenly the fur on my neck stood straight up. From the markings the fur looked to be from a lynx. But it was much too big for a feral lynx! It took me a moment to make sense of the way it looked until I realized that it had been cut open at the back (usually pelts are cut open at the belly) so the front was nicely visible. They had even stuffed the breasts! A moment later one of the guards who had sat at the table got up and moved to stand before me, his boots almost touching my nose. My master commanded, "Slave. You will obey my friend here (at this point he put a hand on the Hessan's shoulder) as if it was I. Do you understand?" I nodded mutely, moving my head only a fraction of an inch. Then he added to the guard, "Water her. You know what do with her afterwards." With that he turned around and left. I felt utterly betrayed and icy fear filled me. Had the whole thing been just a ruse to see how far I would degrade myself before I was tortured to death anyway? I shivered and trembled in fear, desperate to do something, anything yet knowing that anything I did to resist would only make matters worse. A small bowl of water was placed in front of my muzzle and I lapped it up eagerly, what little there was. Once more the water tasted strange, but it was impossible to tell for sure. The water lessened the horrible taste in my mouth but not all that much. It was also not nearly enough to slake my thirst. The guard looked down at me and asked, "Well, slut? Do you want to go and follow your owner or would prefer to stay and play with me and my friends?" He turned his head for a moment, looking at the pelt that hung on the wall, "Or would you like to join your Arnie sister? Or would you prefer to come with me?" For a moment my terror was overcome by a terrible rage when I realized that he wanted me to beg. Beg like I had begged my master to accept me. Beg a Hessan for anything? But the rage dissolved in moments, leaving only cold, numb fear and terror. My paws moved to rest on my thighs, grinding my face and chest into the floor and lifting my ass and tail higher. And then I began licking the boots of my hated captor. At least his boots were only dusty, they still tasted bad. Somehow this ordeal was ten times as humiliating as the first time, being watched by several furs, all of them Hessans. Eventually he stepped back, kicking my muzzle a little as he did so (undoubtedly on purpose). My mouth tasted horribly, it was full of grime and worse and I had practically not spit left to try and clean it even a little. Suddenly two fingers reached into my slit from behind, joined a moment later by another poking at and then into my tailhole. Surprised by the sudden contact my breath whistled out of my muzzle, sounding almost like a moan. The Hessan behind me declared, "What a slut! She's wet and hot like a mud-pool" Once more the fur on my muzzle flared with shame. But he was lying. At least mostly. I realized that having to expose my body to obviously randy males in such a humiliating way had excited and aroused me. Not all that much, I was likely a little damp, but no more than that. The almost constant fear and terror had banked that excitement rather effectively. I held still, not daring to move while the fingers explored my insides. The examination was rough, even painful, but, as much as it humiliated me to admit it, my body reacted to the touch. Not quickly, but undeniably. His fingers found the sensitive nub at my center, and then suddenly they squeezed hard, using the claws more than the finger pads. For a moment I could not breathe and then a silent scream echoed in my head (the collar still prevented me from making any noise) while my eyes filled with tears. But when the fingers finally pulled back he found a way to degrade me further. The sticky fingers were held in front of my muzzle. One look up at my tormentor's eyes convinced me that I had better lick them clean or he would find something far more painful to do to me. I extended my tongue gingerly and began lapping up my juices. I was a little gratified to find that while the fingers were wet and sticky, there was not a whole lot of my juices on them. I found that the smell and taste did excite. When the fingers were clean enough to suit him, he presented his thumb to my muzzle. The stinking thumb that had invaded my tailhole. Steeling myself I managed to lick it clean, gagging at the taste. All the while the other males had been snickering and offering lewd suggestions.

And then the humiliation was over, or at least this particularly bad part of it. The fur I was to follow and obey told me to follow him, turned around and started walking. I crawled after him. This time it was a little easier to comply with the command to keep my eyes below the top of his shoes as the Hessan guard wore sturdy half-boots, which would have been almost full boots on the much smaller human. By the time I reached the top of the two flights of stairs I had to follow him up, my shins and knees hurt something terrible. He stopped on the landing for a moment before he walked through a doorway, down a short corridor and then opened a door on the side of the corridor. I followed him into the room, which turned out to be a small storeroom. He closed the door behind me, stepped back in front of me, facing me. And then my torment was eased a little, at least for the moment, or at least so I thought. He commanded, "Stand up." I complied eagerly, though I did feel faint and almost passed out when I was suddenly upright. "Stand straight and lower your head. Look at the floor. Cross your wrists behind your neck." After a moment he added, "Whenever you stand still you keep your feet apart. Wider than your shoulders." When I stood the way he wanted to, he began to examine my body with his paws (his eyes had been examining my body all the time). He started with my heaving breasts. The position of my arms pulled them up, displaying them prominently. Or as prominently as they would ever be shown. My breasts are a little above average in size for a mouse femme, but that doesn't mean much. Other furs have bigger breasts and reputedly human females are a lot bigger yet. I could not say if that rumor was true, as the few female humans living in Arno were always covered up with bulky clothing when they were in public. My tormentor's fingers were rough, though not excessively so. After a little he walked around me. He slapped my ass cheeks hard and commanded, "Keep that tail up and let everybody see what a slut you are." When I had complied his paws examined my butt cheeks for a while before he returned to stand in front of me. I inhaled sharply when I felt a paw touching, even caressing the inside of my right thigh and then the left. Alternating between my legs, the paw slowly approached the joining of my legs. Once more my body betrayed me, much worse than before. When the fingers finally reached the lips of my slit my heart was already beating faster and my breast heaved. And then the fingers entered me. His touch was not gentle but it was not anywhere as painful as what I had just endured. And this touch was a lot more arousing. My eyes glued to the floor, I fought to keep my arousal in check and my breathing even. Soon I realized that it was likely a loosing battle, but I was determined to hold out as long as I could. After a bit he moved back to my front and a shiver of excitement ran through me when I noticed the huge bulge in his pants. With my head lowered it was practically impossible to look away from that and from the paw caressing me, so I screwed my eyes shut. But he didn't like that. Two fingers of his other paw grabbed my jaw and gently but firmly forced my muzzle up. When I didn't open my eyes the two fingers began to squeeze hard. My eyes flew open and once his gaze captured them I didn't dare to look away again. His fingers gave a little warning squeeze (not painful, just hard enough that I could not miss it) and released my jaw. The gaze of this wolf (or so I judged him) was mocking, gentle and cruel at the same time. He seemed to look directly into my soul, not missing my body's reaction to his lightest touch, noting how every touch fanned the flames in my belly. My eyes widened when a claw suddenly poked the sensitive nub at my center. His smile widened, almost imperceptibly, but enough for me to notice. And now the fires of shame burning on my cheeks joined forces with the fire of desire in my belly. My defenses shattered, my knees felt like they would buckle any moment and on its own accord my body leaned into his touch. Every touch, every caress fanned the flames higher and I felt myself approaching a climax. Had the collar not prevented me from making noises, I would have moaned and likely urged him on. As it was my labored breath spoke clearly enough. The moment my body started to convulse with pleasure his fingers withdrew. I did reach a climax, but only just, the heavenly sensations slipping out of my grasp as soon as they started. I didn't even notice that his other hand had supported me, preventing my weak knees from buckling until he removed the paw. He held my eyes through the whole ordeal, which left me drained and more humiliated than ever. As exhausted as I was, my body cried for more, I was hornier than I thought possible. When my limbs were once more under my control (more or less) he asked in a gentle but mocking voice, "You liked that, little slut, didn't you?" His eyes kept boring into my soul. There was no point in lying, he knew the truth and eventually I nodded. It was just a tiny little movement, barely visible but it finalized my humiliating defeat. Or it would have, had he not kept going. His fingers returned to my crotch, gently teasing the wet fur around my slit, barely touching the wet lips. Once more my body leaned into his touch, desperate for release. He teased me like this for a little while before he asked, "Well, little slut? Do you want more?" To underscore his question a finger slipped into my eagerly waiting cunt for a tantalizing moment before it withdrew once more, leaving me feel emptier than before. Hatred and desire warred deep inside me. When I didn't reply, trying to retain at least a few tattered shreds of my dignity he poked another finger into me for a moment. When he repeated it a third time the desire won and I couldn't hold back any more, I nodded, just a tiny movement but a concession of total defeat. He pretended not to notice and kept this up until I was close to begging, my desperate nods were clear for anybody to see (had there been anybody else watching). For a moment my hope for release flared when two of his fingers entered my eagerly waiting sex, only to be dashed by his laugh. Full and throaty, it could have been a wonderful laugh, but at that moment it was the most horrible noise I had ever heard when I realized what it meant. Before the laugh was over, his fingers had pulled out of my cunt, leaving me feeling emptier than ever. His clear voice mocked me, "Sorry, little slut, but we don't have time to play right now. Too much to do." It was a bare-faced lie, we both knew that, but he had gotten what he wanted, and there was nothing I could do, I couldn't even protest, not that it would have helped any. As ready and aroused as I was, it would have only taken moments to bring me off. Tears in my eyes I stood there dejectedly, only the fear of even more punishment kept me from daring to look away. He let me cool off for a short while, just enough that there was no chance that I could attain release when he began the next humiliation. Still holding my eyes, his fingers invaded me once more, this time to scoop up some of my juices. The intimate contact was enough to send a little lightning bolt of desire through me. He smeared my juices over my left breast, slicking down the fur and making the hard nipple stand out even more. Again and again his fingers invaded me, scooping up more juices to put on my breasts, muzzle and nose, ensuring I would smell the results of my body's weakness for a long time. Then he spread the juices on the wet fur of my thighs around, so they would be clearly visible (more than they already were). Then he held the sticky fingers in front of my muzzle, until I had licked them clean. Only then did he allow me to look away, by putting a finger on my nose and pushing it down gently.

He commanded, "If you want to live, keep your paws where they are. Stay two steps behind me. When the corridor is wide enough you also stay about two foot to my left. Now come, little slut." With that he unbarred and opened the door and left the room. I stumbled after him on wobbly knees.

The fog affecting my mind cleared slowly and the feeling in my loins went from desperately horny to merely very aroused. Soon I was very glad that my keeper had allowed me to walk upright. We went up and down several sets of stairs. As far as I could tell we were in a very old part of the keep. The stairs were old, uneven and the stones often had sharp edges. Had I been forced to craw over them my shins and knees would have been bleeding long before we reached our goal. We passed other people a few times, servants and guards. Each time we did my the fur on my muzzle flared with embarrassment. Apart from a short greeting they paid little attention to my captor, but their eyes were glued to my naked body, I could almost feel their eyes boring into my skin until they were finally out of sight. At one point, on a small landing, my keeper suddenly stopped and turned to face me. It was so suddenly I almost ran into him, but managed to skid to a stop with barely a foot of distance between us. Since I was looking down I clearly noticed his paw, the paw that had teased and tortured my weak body so terribly and deliciously, stretched out, with the fingertips barely more than a finger from my still wet and hot center. A shiver of excitement ran through my body and without thought I thrust my hips forward, desperately reaching for his touch. But he withdrew the paw after only the tiniest touch, brushing against my left nipple as he brought it up. With a fingertip he forced my muzzle up until I looked at him and our eyes met. He didn't say anything, there was nothing to say, we both knew exactly how deep my humiliation was. He held my gaze for a moment before he allowed me to look away again. Just before my eyes looked at the ground again I saw his lips move. After a moment I realized that he had mouthed the word 'slut' and I found that more than half of my mind agreed with him. A moment later he turned around and continued walking as if nothing had happened. Eventually we reached a small drawbridge. Well, drawbridge might be overselling it, it was basically just a plank little more than a foot wide and perhaps ten long. It connected the wall of the inner keep with an outer wall. We stopped and my keeper told me to wait until he had crossed before following. I nodded when he asked if I had understood him. He crossed the dangerous bridge with the ease of long practice. On the far side he turned around and called, "You may lower your arms while crossing. Now come. And don't fall." The light outside was unpleasantly bright and I closed my eyes partially. So far I had been inside the bowels of this fortress, with only torchlight or at most light filtering in through a small window, rarely bigger than an arrow-slit. I couldn't see the sun directly, the doorway seemed to be facing roughly north, but best as I could tell, the sun was high in the sky. I stepped forward gingerly, looking downward. It was at least ten paces to the ground below. With a start I realized that this might be my only chance at a clean death, or at least a relatively clean one. The fall might not kill me outright, but I figured that if I survived I would not live long. After all the humiliation a part of me wanted nothing more than to end it all. But the same humiliation might be what saved me, having gone through all that I didn't want it to be for naught. My captor must have noticed the play of emotions on my face, suddenly he reached for the pouch hanging from his belt fumbling with the string holding it closed, trying to open it. The battle in my mind lasted only for a moment before the will to live won out. I reached the far side just as he withdrew a short wand from the pouch. I stopped, crossed my wrists behind my neck and spread my legs. He growled for a moment but then he put the wand back into the pouch and tied it shut once more. I breathed a sigh of relief when he put the wand away, I had no idea what it was supposed to do, but I was certain that I would not enjoy finding out. He turned to leave, only to turn back to me once more. With a kind and reassuring voice he asked, "Do you need to relieve yourself?" The pressure of my bladder had been an unpleasant constant ever since I had woken up, but since I was let out of the cell I had been much too distracted to pay it any attention. But now that it was on my mind once more, my bladder redoubled its efforts to get my attention. I nodded eagerly. "Don't worry, you will be allowed to take a piss soon. Real soon." He ruffled my headfur as one might a pet's. Then he turned away and started walking. He had sounded so nice but I had seen the smirk on his lips out of the corner of my eyes. He had known exactly what he had done. Somehow I was sure that 'soon' would be anything but. Gritting my teeth I followed him, fighting the ever increasing urgency of my bladder's demands. We went down a few more flights of stairs, exited through a small gate and ended up in a rather large courtyard.

Once more I my eyes partially but not as much as the last time. We had been inside after crossing the small bridge, but this buildings had noticeably bigger windows than the inner keep. I skidded to a stop after a few steps once my eyes took in the whole courtyard. There were dozens of furs around, possibly more. Not far ahead of us was what looked like a whole troop of Hessan soldiers doing their exercises. The fur on my muzzle flared in embarrassment. My paws started to move, trying to cover my naked body, but I caught myself and returned them to the back of my neck. My captor had also stopped. He only turned his neck a little, just enough to see where I was. When I didn't move his paw came to rest on the pouch. Once more fear won over embarrassment and I hurried to take up my place a little behind and off to the side of him. And then he was walking directly towards the exercising troops! I stumbled after him. He stopped about ten paces away from the nearest pair. He turned to me and commanded, "Wait here." While the right paw still rested on the pouch, his other paw gently touched the insides of my thighs. After a moment I got what he wanted and obediently spread my legs a little further. He wiggled the finger from side to side, not touching me, just pretending to. I gritted my teeth and spread my legs a little further yet. And then further still as the finger repeated the gesture. My crotch was feeling very breezy, the lips of my slit had parted by now. My keeper's lips moved and while I couldn't be entirely sure, I thought that it had been something like, "Don't move." As much as I wanted to hide I didn't dare to move or give offense in any other way. He turned around and walked up to the officer, saluting him. Well, it was probably just a petty officer, but whatever the rank, he was obviously in charge. The officer nodded at him and then turned to the troops, bellowing for them to stop and assemble, which they did with alacrity. More than a few had been eyeing me while they traded blows with their partner, or at least they had been going through the motions. In less than a minute the whole troop had assembled in orderly ranks, facing me. Suddenly I had the undivided attention of the whole troop. I wasn't sure how many there were, but it must have been well over fifty, perhaps even the full hundred of a Hessan platoon. I cringed under their hostile gaze. The eyes were full of lust and cruelty, their want, even need, to use and hurt me was palpable. At a single word from the officer they would destroy me with gusto. I had no idea what they would do, but my imagination was much too active at suggesting possibilities. They would like start with raping me until I bled from every orifice of my body. And if they didn't like the holes my body already had, they would likely add a few more. They would either continue raping me until I was dead or they would switch to torture to see how long I could scream before my voice failed. As the first wave of bone deep terror subsided, I became once more conscious of the sight my body provided. And they could see everything there was, except for my rear end. My fur was slick with my juices, my breasts were thrust out proudly. With no little disgust I realized that my nipples were hard and worse, my lower lips were dark pink. Even worse, the wind blew from behind me, carrying the scents of my desire towards the grinning males eyeing my body. Had it been possible to die from embarrassment, I would have perished then and there. Unfortunately it was not and I had to suffer through this, almost forgetting my now throbbing bladder. But there was worse to come. My keeper began to talk, telling the whole troop about me. He was exaggerating but the words still hit much too close to home for my liking. He told them how eagerly I had sucked my juices and shit off his comrade's fingers. How quickly my nipples had hardened at his touch, how quickly I had cum, how desperately I had begged. He exaggerated, but what difference did it make if it had taken two or five minutes for him to get my body to betray me so badly. The worst part came when he recounted the short encounter later. He told them how, during the (at least in his tale) chance encounter, my hips had been thrust forward, how my cunt had sucked his finger in so eagerly, how hard it been for him to pull his finger out again. While I did not know if the last bit was even possible, I realized with a shock that I would have tried the former, had he given me the chance. When he was done I had to suffer through the crudest and lewdest comments ever. As much as I would have sworn that it could not get worse, my keeper still managed it. I saw the officer say something to him, but I couldn't make out what. He walked around me, coming to a stop at my left side. His right paw reached for my muzzle, gently but firmly turned it towards his face, forcing me to meet his eyes once more. His right paw reached for my breast, the only the fingertips caressed my skin, gentler than any male I had ever known. Once more my body betrayed me, reacting to his teasing and I felt my arousal soar once more. And then he began to comment on my reactions, how quickly my nipples were growing, how wet and hot my slit was. I could hide nothing, they could see everything. See the my nipples and lower lips darken further, see my body lean into his touch. We could all smell the growing scents of my arousal. He kept his touch light, only a few times did his fingers slip into me and then no further than the first joint of the finger. Had the circumstances been different, I would have swooned with love for any male able to tease my body so deliciously. Here and now it devastated me, the shame burning away the last few tattered shreds of my pride. All too soon I felt myself nearing a climax. Barely moving his lips, he asked in a low voice, "Want it, slut?" Without conscious thought my head bobbed up and down. Only when the lewd laughter broke over me did I realize that it had been so quiet they had all heard his question. After one last brush over my throbbing lower lips, his fingers pulled away, my hips following as far as they could. His voice still low, he commanded, "Make it good." and held his wet fingers in front of my muzzle. Between the laughter and the catcalls I had been the only one to hear it. I licked at his fingers with a show of eagerness that was much less feigned than I was comfortable with. When the fingers, the palm and the back of his paw were clean, he turned my head away, finally letting me break eye contact. Then he returned to talk to the officer a little more, letting me stew in the humiliating defeat of my body and soul. My thoughts cleared quickly, the fog blown away by the insistent and increasingly painful pressure of my bladder.

After what seemed forever, but could not have been more than a few minutes, my keeper saluted the officer, turned away from him and then beckoned to me. I almost ran to him. Once I was facing in this direction I noticed the midden heap against the far wall. I had not noticed it before, the wind had been blowing in the other direction and smells of shit and manure were always present in a crowded castle in any case. He walked towards the heap with an agonizing slowness. Now that my bladder could feel the imminent release it redoubled its efforts to get me to hurry up. By the time he finally stopped a few paces away from the heap of manure it took everything I had to keep it in. He turned to me a little, just enough to be able to see my face clearly. A tiny quiver of his smirking lips told me that he could see on my face just how much pain I was in. He waited another long, agonizing moment before he pointed at the midden heap, "See the plank? You walk up that and turn around at the top. Put your right foot on the second plank, squat and do your business. Don't move your wrists. When you are finished return to me. Do you understand?" I nodded eagerly. He pretended not to notice for a while. By the time he finally told me to go I could feel the first droplets of piss running down my thighs. I almost ran up the slightly swaying plank, splattering droplets as I went. I was torn between the need to hurry and the fear of stumbling. What would happen if I fell did not bear thinking about. I made it to the top and managed to turn around and put my right foot on the short plank, but only barely. The stream of piss shot out of me before I was properly squatting. The sudden relief from the unbearable pressure felt wonderful. I also emptied my bowels as best as I could. As I squatted there I noticed that the soldiers had gone back to their training, or at least they pretended to train. Many of them still watched me. Then I noticed that my foot-pads were wet. The plank I had run up was wet and I realized that I was not the first to have used the midden heap like this. And that some before me had likely lost control of their bladder well before reaching the top. The plank was also short enough that it covered only the heap itself but not the soaked ground around it, making it clear why my keeper had stopped several paces away. As far as I could tell, my keeper's eyes had not looked away from me at any time, always watching me, granting me not a single shred of privacy. Eventually my body was as empty as it would get and I stood up reluctantly. I walked down the plank gingerly. Now that my attention was not focused elsewhere I could hear the ground squelch disgustingly until almost all the way to where my keeper stood. He looked me up and down, then he forced me to look him in the eyes for a long moment, enjoying the disgust on my face. Then he turned around and walked away and I followed him meekly.