Unnamed Mousie - Ch 8: The first day of the rest of my life

Story by Nameless on SoFurry

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#8 of Unnamed Mousie


Unnamed Mousie - Part 2: On the Job Training - Chapter 8: The first day of the rest of my life

© 2015 - 2018 Nameless

The night had been less than restful. I had woken often, sometimes silently screaming in pain when my head had turned and put the weight on my branded cheek. At other times the pads on my paws and feet had been clammy with sweat and I had smelled the scent of my own terror. Yet, mixed with the scent of fear was the exciting scent of male musk from all the male cum stuck in my fur on my muzzle and back. I could not remember the nightmares clearly but what I could was enough to make me shiver: I had been forced to perform unspeakable acts of debauchery, sometimes by (and with) leering Hessans, sometimes with Demons, sometimes both. I was clammy with terror yet at the same time my slit was hot and wet from excitement. I had no idea what the time was. I could not see anything and the heavy leather hood muffled all noises, except for the rushing of my own blood. Sometimes I could make out the clatter of hooves. Every now and then the wagon shook slightly. I felt more than heard the footsteps of the guard when he walked up and down the walkway. By now my stomach was grumbling again. It was not really bad yet, but the meal yesterday evening had simply not been enough, not nearly enough, to make up for more than a day without any food. Suddenly the wagon lurched and then we were moving. The crunch of gravel was replaced for a few moments by loud clattering as we passed a gate and crossed a drawbridge and then we were on the road. The noises from outside grew louder for a bit. Had they opened the door? I heard somebody speaking, recognized the commanding tone but I couldn't quite make out the words. Every now and then I thought that I could feel people move around but it was difficult to tell over the shocks from the road. I felt it when somebody stepped into my stall and untied my wrists. He commanded, "Take off the hood and get up." I found that my collar was no longer held in place. My fingers fumbled at the strap of the hood for a bit before I got it open. Groaning silently I managed to get up into a kneeling position so I could reach my ankles, doing my best to ignore the protesting of my limbs. When I was finally free of the bonds I stood on slightly unsteady feet and looked around. They had opened the small windows near top of the wagon. They let in some light, but were too high and narrow to see much of anything. I though I could make out trees going past. There were also three rectangular windows in the rood, about two foot square, but they were blocked by a milky glass, so they let in light, but one couldn't look out. With us were three guards, one of the assistants (not the one who had put us to sleep yesterday) and a servant. The assistant sat on a small folding chair. My fellow slaves were released one by one. The servant beckoned to me, so I climbed up on the walkway and approached him. He put a small bowl on the ground, smiled and pointed at it. I knelt and lapped up the water. It still had the same strange aftertaste that I had noticed the day before. There was only a little water in the bowl, but at least my mouth and throat were not parched any more. When I was done I was sent back to my stall. When all of us had received a drink the assistant clapped his paws. "Roll up your soft beds, if you got one. Take them and the hood and bring them here. Those who got a hard bed, bring that instead. Go in order and return to your stall afterwards. Go." He clapped his paws again. I rolled up the rag, picked up the hood and waited for my turn. Two cupboards stood at the back of the wagon, to either side of the door (or more likely they had been built as part of the rear wall), one of them was open. One of the guards showed me where to put my things. The rug went into a large drawer, the hood into another drawer that had been divided into smaller partitions, each one tagged for one of us. I put the hood into the one with my symbol and returned to my stall. "Now detach the strap carriers from the partitions of your stalls, and bring them here." The servant showed us how to do that. It was a very clever system, they consisted of two parts where the second part could be slid away to unlock it from the top of the partition. Wooden teeth near the top of the partition prevented it from moving as long as it was locked into place. A wooden peg locked the sliding part into place and was itself held in place by my wrist or ankle. These went into a bin in the other cupboard. Next we had to take the walkway apart, standing up the boards next to the cupboards. When they were all collected leather straps went around and kept them in place. Then came the partitions of the stalls, these could be unhooked from the outer walls and when laid flat they fit together to form an almost even floor. The boards that made up the central partition were also stood up near the pieces of the walkway. Very narrow boards filled the seam. Finally a large rug that had been rolled up at the front of the wagon was unrolled to produce an almost completely even floor. On the upper side of the rug I saw our tags, arranged in four rows of three. At the assistant's command I knelt on my assigned spot. While we had been busy rearranging the wagon for day use one of the rat femmes had joined us. The three guards took up places around us, one at the front, one at the back and one in the middle. They had the 'tongues' ready.

The assistant clapped his paws and declared, "We will start with warming up exercised and stretching. Your bodies need to be flexible or many of your other tasks will be more painful for you than they need to be. I will call out the names of the exercises, both in your barbaric tongue and in Peshan, sometimes I will give a short explanation. This animal" here he pointed at the rodent femme "will show what you have to do. Remember the exercises and the Peshan names, soon you will have to do them on your own. You will be punished if you get them wrong." We started. At first my muscles protested but soon they warmed up and the exercises became almost fun. A little, sometimes a lot, embarrassing, involving ever wider leg splits, push ups with the legs wide apart and the like but soon I almost forgot about that. The guards encouraged us, licking the body of anyone who looked as if she didn't give her best. At first the licks were rather gentle, but they quickly became more forceful, especially for those who needed repeated reminders. But everyone got licked playfully every now and then, apparently at random. The swats concentrated on the more sensitive parts of the body, particularly the breasts and ass. Soon my body began to heat up, not just from the exercise but the little stinging slaps heated my skin and also excited me. We got a short rest after a while, just a minute to catch our breath. As I knelt grateful for the short respite I realized that the air was so heavy with the musky scent of arousal that I could hardly smell anything else. After the short rest the exercises continued. When the exercises were finally over, after perhaps a bell, I was panting from exertion, but felt good otherwise. We were allowed to rest for several minutes before the next exercise or first lesson. While we rested the assistant went around and applied the healing salve to the brand on our cheeks. It hurt when he smeared it over my burnt skin, not as much as it had yesterday, but it was still extremely painful. Holding still while he did so was really hard, like most of us I cried out at the pain.

The assistant returned to his chair and clapped his paws twice, "And now you will learn positions. As with the exercises, I will name them, describe them. Learn the Peshan names, remember them. The guards will correct your posture until you get it right. You will hold the position until I command you to assume a new one. Any questions?" He pretended to wait for an answer for a few moments (we could not speak) and went on, "No? Then lets start with an easy one: 'Stand' you stand with your legs apart, a little further than your shoulders are wide. Arms hanging at the sides, head lowered. And yes, you pelts keep your tail up unless you are told differently." The guards corrected the postures of several of us with licks from their tongues. We learned position after position. First came a few modifier, 'Neck', 'Back', 'Thighs' and 'Sides' which told us where to place our wrists without changing the posture of the rest of our bodies. Then came 'Kneel' and 'Beg' both of which we already knew. I did my best and I think I didn't do too badly, but I still got licked a few times. I soon realized that many of the positions must have been specifically designed to show off our bodies, especially the interesting bits, to humiliate us, or, in many cases, both. 'Present' was not among my favorites: I had to assume the kneeling position, legs spread as far as they would go, grab my ankles and then lie back which lifted my hips high and presented my slit. Then we began to repeat positions, only we got less time to assume them and the assistant began to use more modifiers. After a while a sudden thought hit me and I realized that they were training us like you would a pet dog: 'sit', 'roll over' and 'beg'. The thought distracted me long enough to miss one position change which earned me several licks, some quite painful, both from the strength of the blow as well as from where they were delivered to. Painful as the licks were, afterwards my body was more aroused than ever. Every now and then a low moan escaped my lips. At the start of this exercise the assistant had waved the wand in our direction, apparently once more allowing us to make low noises. Still, we soon came to dread the swishing sound the 'tongues' made just before contact, flinching slightly even when the blow was aimed at somebody else. After that the assistant went to the next level: Distracting us. He and the guards would randomly lick us with the whips (relatively gently) or try other tricks to cause us to lose the position we were in or to miss a change in positions. At one point I was standing on my right leg, the ankle of the left in my paw and the other arm stretched out. Suddenly one of the guards used his whip from behind. He didn't really hit me with it, but swung it with the narrow side of the leather tongue at my slit. It slid in and out. My body shuddered, and I had a climax. I lost control of my limbs completely and crumpled in a heap. I got only a moment of respite, probably because they were as surprised by the strong reaction of my body as I had been and then one guard and the assistant turned all their attention on me. By the time I had finally forced my trembling limbs back into the requested position they had thoroughly warmed my ass, tits and a lot of the rest of my body. The assistant made me look him in the eye and asked, "Did you come, pelt?" My muzzle burned in sudden shame but I nodded, sure that he knew anyway. "Did I give you permission to do that?" I shook my head morosely. "Do you wish to be punished?" I cringed but nodded, certain that declining would only earn me a worse punishment in the end. "Good. Come." He walked back where he usually stood in front of us. He pointed at the rodent femme and then at my now empty spot. The rodent hurried there. "Kneel. Thighs. All of you, take a short break." He turned to me, "Face this way." pointing towards the rest of my fellows "Present." I assumed the position. "Hold that position until you feel that you have been punished enough." I groaned inwardly, certain that I had to hold the position until he permitted me to, come what may. He pointed at one of the guards and commanded, "Lick her cunt." The guard planted his feet next to my head and raised his whip. It came down with a swish, directly on my lower lips. He had not slapped me all that hard, but my lower lips were puffed from the orgasm I just had and very, very sensitive. He hit me again and again and again. I have no idea how often. The slaps were not hard, but they came at random and the pain mounted up with each one. Groaning and whimpering in pain, tears flowing from my closed eyes, I fought to keep my body motionless. Somehow, I have no idea how, I made it. Suddenly the slaps stopped, I tensed, waiting for the next one but it didn't come. "You are forgiven. But don't let it go to your head. The next time you'll get a real punishment. You may thank me." A real punishment! Worse than this? But I had no doubt that he could come up with much worse things. He had not given any instructions on how we were to thank him, but the begging thing came closest. I managed to get my body to kneel in front of him, assumed the begging position and started licking his shoes. It seemed to be the right thing to do. After a minute or two he told me to get back to my spot. I crawled there, not quite trusting my legs to walk yet. I got only a few moments of rest before the training resumed. The scents of arousal seemed stronger than before. Had watching me get punished excited my fellow slaves? Or had it been the scents of my climax? I earned a lot of licks after that. The others were rested and yet some of them still seemed hard pressed to keep up. And the ordeal had sapped my strength. "Kneel. Now a new exercise. 'Play'. Keep your last position. Put one paw on your mound and spread your cunt." The rodent femme stood so we could see her demonstrate. "Now touch yourself with one or two fingers from the other hand. Keep your paws off to the side. Flip the clit, that's the little nub, every now and then. For the males, play with your balls with one hand and stroke your cock with the other. Now present." We assumed the position. "Play!" I groaned, touching myself after the punishment hurt at least at first. But at the same time I was so sensitive, especially a little further inside where the tongue had not tortured my flesh, that I got very excited, very quickly. "Oh. And don't come until you're told to." He let us play for quite a while, the scents of arousal grew stronger and stronger. Keeping from cumming was getting more and more difficult. After a while I barely felt the pain any more. But I could not slow down too much, the guards swatted my paws or breasts whenever my fingers moved too little. The assistant crouched down in front of the femme with the number one, between her legs. I could cot see clearly what he was doing, but it was clear enough that he was inspecting and touching her. He moved to her head and then the next fur. I felt my muzzle heat up at the thought, but it was far from the only part of me that did that. My nipples felt as if they were hard as pebbles. Eventually it was my turn. The assistant touched me, made me spread myself a little further and corrected the placement of my fingers a little. I almost lost it when he took my middle finger, and flicked it across the sensitive little nub a few times. Well, it was usually little but now it was swollen with arousal. He grinned at me, encouraging and commanding me to continue this delightful torture. He pushed one of his fingers deep into me. He didn't move it around much, just feeling my heat. The grin became even wider when he felt my muscles tighten around the intruder. I felt myself blushing so hard, the fur on my muzzle stood on end. After a minute he seemed satisfied and pulled the finger out, once more almost setting me off. He came closer and held the wet fingers in front of my muzzle, smearing a little bit of my juices on my nose. While I lapped up the liquid proof of my arousal he bent a little closer and whispered, "You've had your fun already. When I give permission to climax, play as hard with yourself as you can, but don't come. Understood?" I glared up at him but gave a little nod, he just chuckled, wiped the wet finger on the fur around my nose and moved on to the next.

The assistant was sitting again. By now our groans and moans of barely suppressed desire were almost constant. They and the ever stronger scents made it more and more difficult to keep from coming. Suddenly the door opened and my heart skipped a beat when our master climbed into the wagon. The assistant stood up, leaving the chair for the master. He sat down, holding his nose for a moment, "Ugh! These animals stink, don't they. Well?" The assistant grinned and answered, "These pelts are so easy! You could hardly breathe the air from the smell, and that was before we even started doing with the warm up exercises. I suppose they aren't doing too badly, but it'll take a lot more training until they are up to snuff." "Any problems?" "No, just the usual. They kept the guards busy licking them but nothing serious." I had been doing my best to watch them without moving my head enough to be obvious. Suddenly the assistant looked directly at me and our eyes met. His grin grew a little wider and he winked before looking away again. It only took me a moment to get him: He had me in his paw now, even more than he already did. A single word to our master and I would be punished. Suddenly our master bellowed, "Come!" After a moment of surprise our paws sped up, trying desperately to bring the owner's bodies to a climax. I also increased my efforts, trying to make my efforts as obvious as possible while increasing the stimulation as little as possible. I was already much too close to coming for comfort. My situation seemed obvious enough to me: Our master did not know that I was not supposed to come. If I showed too little enthusiasm, he would see to my punishment. If I did and got off, the assistant would punish me, or worse tell the master about the command he had given me. I realized that I would be punished no matter what I did. The first squeal of pleasure almost broke my concentration. "Stop." The frantic activity stopped, at least mostly. The guards swatted a few paws, rather hard from the sound, and then there was silence, broken only by panting and soft moaning sounds. They had watched closely. Our master got up and asked each one of us if she (or her) had come. About two thirds of us had managed it. Those who had not, me included, got four really hard and painful licks, one on the inside of each thigh, just below the crotch and one on each breast. One female tried to lie about it, she got at least twenty licks and a mark on the collar. After that no one else dared to lie. The master left soon after the punishments had been handed out and we went back to training positions. After that I did better, the last exercise had taken long enough for me to rest a little. Or at least I wasn't any more exhausted than the others now.

We were still doing our exercises when the door opened once more. I stood facing it, so I got a look at the outside. It seemed that we were on a road through a forest. Another wagon was following close behind us. A basket was pushed in and one of the servants climbed in and closed the door behind him. Breakfast! At least I hoped so. After a few minutes the assistant called for a halt. "You will be fed now." He said it as if we were livestock. After a short pause he went on, as if talking about completely unrelated matter, "A number of Hessan gentlemen have agreed to escort us. My master would like to thank them for the trouble. Would any of you be willing to assist him in this?" He made it sound so innocent. It did not take me long to figure out the choice he had offered us: we had to let them rape us or worse or we would get only a tiny amount of food. It didn't take me long to decide, I assumed the begging position. I think most of us did likewise. "Get your bowl when told to, return to your place and kneel and wait for my command to eat." When it was my turn I licked his shoes until he sent me to get my food. I got four ladles, not a full bowl but not too bad. I had not seen how much the furs before me had received, but most of those coming after me got five, except for two who had marks on their collar, who got only three each. I wasn't sure why I had received less, but most likely because I had come without permission. Or because I had not come during the 'play' exercise later on. I lapped up the watery gruel when given permission. It was pretty much the same as what we had received yesterday, except today it seemed to have a slight aftertaste. When I was done I returned the bowl, licked completely clean. The servant left once more, taking the basket with the bowls and the pot with him.

"We can't stop right now, but you will get to relieve yourself at the midday break. Until then you may rest, hang around a bit." He grinned as if he had made a joke. "Come here, one by one, in order, get your things and return to your place." Two of the guards opened both cupboards. From one I got two of the wooden bars with leather straps like those that had restrained me during the night, another leather strap, also with buckles and a wooden rod, about two foot long, with small blocks at the end. From the other cupboard I got the hood I had worn last night and a piece of rope. I carried the items back to my place. It seemed obvious that they would tie us up. As I knelt there I looked up and noticed that the crossbeams under the roof had a number of holes and slots. Once we all had our gear the assistant showed us what to do with it. First we disconnected the two leather straps from the bars and connected them to the ends of the rod, later on I would learn that they called this a spreader bar. Then we tied the piece of rope to the middle of the third leather strap and buckled the ends together at the widest setting. "Look up. In the crossbar above you is a hole. Thread the rope through it from the front towards the back. Grab the rope near the end. Jump up, grab the slot with one paw and pull yourself up and thread the rope through the hole and pull it down until the leather strap dangles at hip height. Go." It took me two tries to jump high enough and another until I managed to get the rope through the hole. "Turn around and face forward. Fold your ears then put on the hood on your head, but leave your eyes free for now. Stand up. Place the strap with the rope on the tag. Strap your ankles to the ends of the spreader bar. Don't forget to pull the buckles as tight as you can. Stand so that the middle of the rod is exactly over your tag. Pull down the hood and cinch the strap. Hold your paws behind the back. Start" Soon afterwards I stood there, legs spread wide and blindfolded. Once more the hood muffled all sounds, even more now that my ears were folded down. After a short wait one of the guards (I was pretty sure it was not the assistant) checked the straps. He put the other one around my wrists and closed it. Then he pulled on the rope until my arms were forced up behind me and I had to lean down. He adjusted the length of the rope a few times and tied it off. I almost jumped out of my fur when he dragged a finger through my slit from the front to the back. I was panting hard when he wiped the finger on my ass. I stood there and waited for time to pass. Every now and then I changed my stance a little, trying to find a more comfortable position. But he had gauged the length of the rope carefully. If I stood comfortably (unlike humans and like most furs I usually walk and stand only on the forward part of my feet) my shoulders were stretched uncomfortably. I could relieve the pain in my shoulder by standing up on tiptoes, but that tired the muscles in my feet and calves quickly. To add to my discomfort, my bladder was uncomfortably full, quickly heading towards painful. Last, but certainly not least, the guards entertained themselves. Every now and then one of the tongues would lick me. The licks were more surprising (since I was blindfolded and almost deaf they came without any warning) than really painful. They also touched me, usually in the more interesting places like my breasts, cunt or ass, sometimes pinching me or slapping lightly. A few times they reminded me to keep my tail up (more forward than up in this position). The licks and touches were not all that painful but humiliating and also exciting and arousing. The unpredictability only made it worse. I definitely did not get any rest and my slit stayed hot and wet the whole time. The muscles in my legs trembled with fatigue and felt as it they might cramp up any moment. I have no idea how long we stayed like this, but it felt like a very long time. The wagon stopped. Suddenly the almost constant rumbling (only dimly audible in the hood) and the continuous tremors stopped. After a further indeterminable wait the rope suddenly played out. I almost fell, but a short pull on the rope steadied me, though it hurt my shoulders a little when they were jerked up again. The leather strap around my wrists was loosened and a voice told me to untie myself. Standing on trembling legs I managed to get my wrists free. Then I unbuckled the hood and pulled it off. In front of me one of the guards released another one of us. I tried to bend down to untie my ankles, but my legs buckled and I landed on my rump, hard. I grunted in pain. Bending forward, I managed to get my first ankle free, after that the second one was much easier. "Kneel, facing me." I turned around. "Put your toys back together the way the were before and return them here. In order and walk when you do that." I untied the rope and disconnected the two leather straps from the spreader bar, then I connected them to the wooden bars once more. My legs protested so much, I was barely able to get up, but somehow I managed it. The look on the assistant's face told me he knew exactly how it felt and that he enjoyed making us suffer like this. I returned the items, returned to my place and sank down on my knees gratefully.

The assistant opened the rear door and commanded, "Follow me.". He climbed down, followed by two guards. The third guard got us moving in order. My legs almost gave when I hit the ground as I climbed out, but I managed to hold onto the grip near the steps until I got them back under control. Then I took my place in the line, looking around a little. The wagons had stopped at the side of the road in a clearing perhaps thirty paces across. The wagons stood in a half circle. Off to one side I could see several horses. On the meadow in front of the wagons sat Hessan soldiers, at least twenty of them, all of them looked big and dangerous. They all wore breastplates and rather fancy uniforms. One of the servants was working on a fire. It was already burning brightly. Two others were setting up a table and chairs. As soon as we were all assembled the assistant led us towards the other end of the meadow. I saw one of the servants (the last one; it would take a bit more time, but eventually I found that there were four of them) dig a hole. He finished quickly, it wasn't a particularly big one. I assumed that this was where we were to relieve ourselves. Far enough away that the others would not be pestered by any stink but not so far away as to offer us any real privacy. We stopped off to the side so we would be able to watch but not interfere with the view of any of our masters, should they want to watch. The servant left and returned a few moments later carrying twigs from a tree with large leaves, which he put next to the hole. The assistant quickly repeated the instructions on how we were to do our business and then just waited. One by one we assumed the begging position, licked his shoes and did our business, using a few of the leaves to clean up afterwards. One of the males thought that this might be a chance to escape. When he got to the hole he didn't crouch but started to run. He disappeared between the trees. I was a little surprised when none of the guards even tried to catch him. Suddenly he screamed, there was a thumping noise as he fell and the scream slowly turned into a gurgling groan that quickly grew fainter. I had been idly wondering if I should try to flee, but to be honest I was too afraid that I would be caught, even if they didn't make the collar choke me. With a little shock I realized that I could still hear the slave who had tried to run, quiet, barely audible screams full of indescribable agony. After that I was so scared I just stood there, almost paralyzed by fear. I didn't see our master until he passed me on his way to where the assistant waited and asked, "One of the tried to run?" "Yes, one of the unruly males." Our master turned to us and held up the wand. We all flinched in fear. "Did you see what happens when you get too far away?" After a moment he pointed at four furs, two males and two of the larger females. "You four, bring that pelt back here. Don't wander too far. Now go!" The four walked off hesitantly, trembling slightly, obviously fearing to share the grizzly fate at every step. They returned after a short while, carrying the stricken male. He was stiff as a plank, but not flat, the limbs were bent every which way. All his muscles were bunched up as if they had all decided to cramp up at the same moment. His eyes were wide open and had a wild, crazy look in them. He continued to scream quietly. The frozen limbs did not move an inch when the four put him down at our masters command and returned to their place in the line. "Well, anybody else want to try to run?" We all shivered, apart from shaking our head none of us dared to move. Our master waited to let that sink in, then he walked over to the stricken fur and touched his wand to the collar. The runaway's muscles finally relaxed. After a moment his eyes cleared but all the fight had gone out of him. He dropped in the begging position and licked our master's shoes. After a minute our master just turned around and walked away. We all finished our business. After that we had to kneel in a half circle opposite the wagons. Except for the male that had tried to run, he was told to stand with his wrists behind the neck near the fire. All through the midday rest the guards and many of the Hessans amused themselves by licking him with the little whips. From the noises they all hit hard and more than a few aimed at his family jewels. But he just stood there, whimpering and groaning occasionally. I saw that he had also received a big black mark on his collar. One of the servants brought us water, we each got a small bowl. We knelt there for a few minutes before the next activity began. Most of the Hessans had turned to look at us while they ate their lunch. Then our master and his assistants began calling out positions. None of us hesitated for more than a few moments before we complied. It was extremely humiliating to assume such revealing and lewd poses in full view of more than thirty males. But also arousing. When the meal was over we had to assume the 'present' position, not for the first time, but this time the 'play' command followed. My muzzle burned in shame and soon my slit burned with arousal. Then it got even worse as the Hessans stood up and came closer. At first they only watched and made lewd comments. Then they would crouch down to inspect our now very public privates closely and finally they started touching, testing and commenting on how hot and wet we were. All the while we continued to play, too cowed to do anything but obey the command we had been given.

One of the big males, a canine, a wolf or perhaps a mixed breed, crouched down between my legs. Before him others had done the same, touching me a little before moving on. But somehow I got the feeling that this one would stay longer. His fingers touched the insides of my thighs and reached around my hips to feel up my ass a bit before they moved on to my wide open slit. They caressed the puffed lips, careful not to interfere with my own fingers as they played with my sex. He grinned down at my face, hot with embarrassment and asked, "You're hot and wet, aren't you little mousie?" I nodded minutely. "You may speak." "Yes, Master." "Do you like it when I touch you? Here? And Here?" "Yeeeessssss!" Fuck! He knew exactly where to touch me and I was already close to the edge, "Yes, Master." He pushed a finger deep into me and chuckled when he felt my muscles contract around it, "You like that, don't you? You're a real slut, aren't you, little mousie?" "Yes, yes, Master." No point in holding back any more, "Yes, I'm a total slut. I love it when you touch me, Master." He pulled the finger out and licked it, "Hmm, tasty. Want me to touch you again?" "Yes, Master. Please." "Stop playing. Place one paw on each side of your cunt. If you want me in you, you'll have to invite me in." After a moment I got his meaning and spread my slit wide for him. I was aroused, fuck, I was horny as hell, I wanted him desperately, but displaying my most private parts like this still embarrassed me no end and I blushed furiously. As far as I could tell, the rest of us received a similar delicious torture, I heard pleading voices and the sounds of arousal from all around me. His finger poked into my wet slit a little, wiggling around a little bit. Suddenly I realized that he was pretending it was stuck. When I spread my lips a little wider the finger entered me a little further. I spread myself wider and wider, urging him on. The fingers inside me felt so good! I was panting and getting closer and closer. "Want me to fuck you, slut?" "Yes, please! Master, Yes!" He asked me again and again until I was almost screaming. I almost sobbed when the fingers suddenly left my eager cunt. "I bet you like it dogie-style, don't you?" "Yes, Master!" "On your knees and turn around." "Yes, Master! Thank you, Master!" I scrambled to obey. I hear the clinking as he unbuckled the belt and opened his trousers and then I felt the tip of his cock poke at my slit. My lips seemed to open on their own accord. I moaned in pleasure as he slid into me. He was a decent size, but not huge, at least not yet, he wasn't fully hard when he entered me, but after that he grew quickly. He bent over me and whispered, "Don't come before me." Then he began to pump in and out. He was not gentle about it but he did not hurt me much either. The iron breastplate and the metal scales on his trousers hurt quite a bit when they slammed against my body. But after a few thrusts I didn't really notice all that any more. My world contracted until it seemed to consist of little more than my pulsing cunt and the male meat thrusting in and out. I struggled to control myself, to keep from coming too soon. It wasn't a battle I could win, each thrust took me closer to the edge, all I could do was slow the descent and delay the inevitable, hopefully just long enough. Damn! Once more I was close, but I didn't manage it. I squealed out my pleasure and a moment later my spasming muscles set him off. He shot his load deep into me and kept on thrusting. I had several more climaxes until he was finally empty and pulled out. Suddenly I felt unpleasantly empty. "Clean me, whore." I turned around and I began to lick off our juices from his wet cock. We tasted good! I was more disappointed than relieved when I had lapped them all up. And my arousal had returned and I was horny and ready for more. I licked my lips as I leaned back to wait for the next command. I muzzle burned with sudden embarrassment when I realized that he had seen me lick my lips. "Liked the taste of my cum, didn't you?" I nodded, "Yes, Master." "Not too bad for a cheap whore. Worth the price, if only barely." Whore? Our master might not have forced me to do that, at least depending on your view, but I had not done it for money! He opened the purse hanging from his belt, withdrew a coin and showed it to me. A half farthing! That was my price! Suddenly I wanted to die, the humiliation was too much. He just watched me for a minute or two, enjoying my mental anguish. "Now, before I go pay your pimp, would you like a drink, little whore?" It wasn't hard to figure out what kind of drink he was offering. I bristled at the thought but once more my survival instinct got the upper hand, "Yes, Master." He just stood there, waiting, so I begged once more, "Please, Master, I am thirsty." He pointed at the ground, at his shoes. I groaned inwardly but assumed the begging position and licked at his riding boots. They were dirty, at least it was mostly just dust and mud, but there were traces of horse manure as well. With a start I realized how pleasant, at least by comparison, it had been to lick our master's shoes or those of his assistants, they were usually pretty clean, at least by the time it was my turn. After a minute or so he nudged me with one of the boots, so I got back up on my knees. I begged once more, "I'm thirsty. Please, Master." and leaned forward and opened my mouth. Grinning widely he began to squirt his piss in my mouth, giving me time to swallow, but also to taste it (or maybe forcing me to taste it more). No, it didn't taste good at all, but even that was better than going thirsty. When he was done, he closed his trousers and asked, "Did you like it, little whore?" "Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." He turned around and walked over to one of the assistants, making a big show of paying for my services. My fellow slaves had gone through more or less the same as I had, some were already finished and waiting, some were still forcing down their 'drinks'. One by one the Hessans finished. I saw the servants carry away the chairs they had set up for the meal. It seemed we would be back on the road soon.

We followed one of the assistants and several guards back to our wagon. We waited outside while one of the guards entered the wagon. He brought leather cuffs with chains. We were quickly joined into a coffle. The wide leather cuff was locked around our wrists, behind the back. The two foot long chain attached to it was connected to the collar of the next fur. The first fur was chained to the wagon, the cuffs of the last fur didn't have a chain. They formed us into two lines of six, each at one side of the wagon. Soon afterwards the wagon began to move and we walked. The wagons moved slowly, much slower than our usual marching pace. At first it was almost unpleasant because the pace was too slow. It took me a while to adjust to walking at that speed, but after a while I got used to it. This was the most relaxing time I had since my capture. I was still horny, we all were, I could smell it, but for now the urge was not all that strong. Walking with my paws tied wasn't all that pleasant but at our current speed it was no problem. Walking barefoot over the rough, gravely ground was not that pleasant either, particularly as I had to walk very close to the fur in front of me and could hardly see the ground and found it difficult to avoid pebbles or other obstacles. I used to be used to walking barefoot, I had while I lived on the streets, like most poor furs I had worn no shoes or boots. Most normal furs would walk barefoot at least in warm weather. Soldiers and many workers wore boots while on duty, mainly as protection, and I had gotten used to wearing boots since I had joined the army. Still, I was out in the fresh air and could finally look around a bit and get my bearings. We were on a road through a dense forest with old trees. If I remembered correctly, it meant that we were going south. I couldn't see the sun, thin clouds covered most of the sky. From what I had seen when we set out, most of the Hessan cavalrymen rode at the front of the caravan, but several guarded the sides. They made lewd and derogatory comments whenever they passed us, but otherwise they left us in peace. Part of me hoped that bandits would attack us, maybe free us, but I didn't think it likely. Thirty elite soldiers and the other guards (eventually I found out that our master had ten guards plus an officer) were too strong a deterrent. Besides I figured that no bandits would live this close to a major castle, or at least only the most suicidal ones would and those not for long. After a while the road met a small river and from then on followed it. Later, we had been walking for perhaps a bell, the river widened to form a pool. Between the road and the pool was a small meadow, and this is where we stopped. The wagons stayed in a line but parked at the edge of the meadow. We waited while the horses were watered. The servants set up a folding table and some chairs. Then we were untied and led to the bank of the pool. One of the assistants commanded, "Wash yourself and get all that old gunk out of your fur." He put a slight emphasis on 'old', I doubted that it would be long before we got a lot of new gunk in our fur. "Get your pelts wet, lather up and rinse. If needed, repeat. Squeeze as much water out of your fur as you can when you are done. Now get in." We all complied, most of us eagerly. The water was quite cold, but the air was warm, so it wasn't too bad. I drank some water and used the opportunity to relieve myself. Our master and the Hessan officer were sitting at the table, more than half the Hessans were watching us, but a few of them stood guard. I felt a little self-conscious but climbed out of the pool after getting my fur wet to accept a piece of soap from one of the servants. I have no problem washing myself in front of others, I had done it more than once while in the army, but there's a difference if the others see you as an amusement or if they are your mates whom you'll be watching yourself shortly. Still, lathering up in full view was pretty much the least embarrassing thing I had done all day. We could not speak but a few signs were enough to convince another female that we should watch each others back. We rinsed out the suds and washed each other once more before we were reasonably clean. By the time I was finally clean, or at least clean enough, the water had become decidedly chilly. I squeezed as much water out of my fur as I could. A servant pawed me a small towel to dry my headfur.

The rest apparently over, we were led back to the wagons and chained together into a coffle once more. The femme who had be the first one in the coffle was put at the end and the rest of us moved up one spot. This time we were blindfolded. They did not use the hoods, but a simple leather blindfold with two thin leather straps, one went under the chin and one around the back of the head. What a difference such a small piece of leather can make! Before the break marching had been rather pleasant, but not any more. At first marching blindfolded was extremely unpleasant and stressful. I stumbled several times, and not just me, the others didn't do much better. True, I had not been able to see the ground very much before, but not being able to see anything was completely different. Each time one of us stumbled the whole coffle was jerked around. I continually bumped into the fur in front of me or my neck was jerked forward if I fell behind too much. The total blindness was disorienting and made me feel completely helpless. Instead of humming (I didn't dare to sing) a marching song as I walked, I put one foot in front of the other despondently, praying I would not stumble and fall. Eventually it got a little easier, as we learned to judge the tension of the chains connecting us and we stopped jerking each other around or bumping into each other. Or at least it happened much more rarely. But the feeling of helplessness did not diminish much. Slowly, little by little, my body got used to marching like this and it left my mind free to think. I had been a little cold, from the wet fur, but I quickly forgot about that as I struggled to keep going. By the time I had attention to spare, my fur had been mostly dried by the wind. Marching like this was exhausting, especially at first. I thought about my situation, what was happening to me, unsurprisingly, I didn't like it at all. But what could I do about it? Could I do anything about it? Unfortunately, the longer I thought about it, the more clear it became that the answer was somewhere between 'not much' and 'nothing'. Was there any way to escape? As long as I wore this enchanted collar, the answer was a clear 'no'. What had happened to the male who had tried to run away made me shiver with terror. I didn't think there was any way I could take off the collar. A blacksmith might manage it, but since it was enchanted it might be completely impossible to take off without dispelling the enchantment first. I wondered if I might be able to filch our master's wand. Perhaps possible, but it would require an inordinate amount of luck. And if I tried and failed I would not get a second chance and I would regret it for a long time. Besides, even if I managed to run away, then what? With the brand on my cheek, my only real choices were banditry, slavery or death. Banditry, no. I had spent more than a month hunting bandits and I had seen their handiwork first hand. They might rob a rich merchant on occasion, but rich merchants hired guards. More often than not the bandits robbed, raped and killed those who could not defend themselves, farmers barely eking out a living on thin soil and the like. No, I'd rather die than sink to that level. What about resisting? Refusing to humiliate myself, stop volunteering and stop pretending to enjoy the things they forced on me. Heck, the Hessan had been right in a way. I was whoring myself out, not for a coin but for a little food and the hint, not even a promise, that I might be spared some of the pain that would befall those who refused to participate willingly. I was no stranger to pain and hunger, having lived on the street before joining the army. I could bear both, at least up to a point. And I knew full well that hunger alone would eventually drive me to do just about anything, it had before. It was mid-afternoon at the latest, and I was already hungry again, it was not bad, not yet. And I had received an almost full portion today and yesterday. I did not even want to think about how those who had received only one ladle or two felt. The hunger alone would ensure my cooperation after a day or two. I was no stranger to pain, I could bear it when I had to. You wouldn't last long in the army if you couldn't, no officer would coddle you. I would not have lasted long on the street either. A small fur like me had to learn to roll with the punches if she wanted to survive. But to bear pain without reason, without a goal. No, I just saw no point in it, at least in making things worse for me than they promised to be. Fuck! What was wrong with me? I was miserable, really miserable and yet I was horny as hell. It had not been a tenth as bad when I was in heat. Most female furs go into heat once a year, usually in spring, but it merely made you a little hornier than usual. Now? If a Hessan touched me a few times, I'd beg him to fuck me, never mind any extra perks I got for it. Heck! In a minute or two he could get me to choose to be fucked in the tailhole over eating a meal! No, try as I might I saw no reason to resist. If they wanted to, they would wear down my will and likely sooner than later.

Suddenly the wagon slowed and then stopped. One by one the furs from the end of the coffle were unchained and led away. Soon it was my turn. The guard (at least so I assumed) removed the chain from the leather cuff but did not remove the cuff or the blindfold. He led me to the stairs that led into the wagon and helped me up. Another guard led me to my place, where I turned around and knelt at his bidding. I waited while the others were led in as well. A short while later the wagon started moving once more. "Well, my pets, did you enjoy your little stroll? Now it's time for your first language lesson." I had never learned another language, so I had no idea how one would go about it. But if nothing else, the selection of the vocabulary we were taught was a little lopsided. The first words were 'Yes' and 'Master', then 'Please' and the like. It would be three days until we learned the word 'No' and I think we learned that more by mistake than anything. Once again we could talk. Whoever was supposed to answer would be touched by the assistant or one of the guards. If she got the answer wrong she would be licked, harder with each failure. Sometimes we would have to answer verbally, other times with our body by presenting or jiggling the correct part. It would be a while before we learned to really talk in this foreign language, not just to use what I would soon think of as 'slave babble'. I called it that in my head, I didn't dare to use that term out loud. When the language lesson was over, we got another 'rest period'. The guards replaced my blindfold with the hood, leaving my eyes free for a few moments while they switched from one to the other. They retied my paws at the front, tied a rope to the leather cuff, threaded the rope though a hole above me and pulled me up until I stood on tiptoes. Then they tied off the rope and left me like this. The guards amused themselves by feeling us up of licking us with the tongues, luckily most of the swats were more playful than really painful. Still, by the time they finally let us down, I was exhausted, the muscles in my calves trembled with fatigue and my shoulders hurt.

The guards removed the leather cuffs and the hood. We got some rest, kneeling at our assigned places for a bit before the assistant came back. Then we practiced positions until the caravan stopped for the night. We rolled up the big rug, set up the partitions for our stalls and the walkway for the guards. In most ways the dinner was just a rehash of what we had already done. The assistant 'offered' us the opportunity beg to be allowed to thank the Hessans. I think all of us did. We left the wagon and had the chance to relieve ourselves. We practiced positions to give the Hessans a show while they ate. Then I got to thank one of the Hessan soldiers for guarding us. I licked him until he was hard and had a pretty good orgasm when he used my tailhole. Then I licked him clean. I don't think it tasted any better than it had previously, but somehow the taste didn't bother me as much as before. I guess you can get used to pretty much everything if you have no other choice. For my troubles I got an almost full bowl. It contained the usual watery gruel. Not tasty, but not bad and it sated my hunger. The guards and some of the Hessans entertained themselves by feeling us up or licking our raised rumps. Those who 'wanted' got a little dessert, sucking off one of the Hessans. I did, at least I didn't want to miss any opportunity to put anything food-like in my stomach. It was getting dark and then it was time for us to sleep. Somebody had set up the cuffs so we could tie ourselves up for the night. This time I had to lie on my back with my legs spread wide and my arms above my head. I dozed off soon, I was bone tired.

I woke up suddenly, I had no idea what had woken me, but I was instantly awake. I listened as hard as I could. I think I heard panting and occasional grunts, but I couldn't be sure. The noises were so faint I could not be sure if I had heard a real noise or only imagined it. I could feel the wagon shift slightly as if somebody was walking around. Or doing something else, the idea that somebody was fucking one of us made my heart beat faster. I could not smell anything, well, I could smell my own arousal and that of my fellow slaves, but that scent was a constant in the wagon. I lay in the darkness, so long as the faint noises continued I just could not stop myself from trying to make sense of the noises and sleeping was out of question. I tiny creak of wood and my breath caught from sudden fear. Somebody was standing on the walkway, directly by my stall! After a moment I forced myself to breathe normally. The floor trembled slightly and suddenly I was certain that someone was in the stall with me. The floor boards shifted as the person in the stall moved. But I couldn't smell anything. I got only the faintest whiff of his scent just before I felt something poke at my slit. I was wet enough that the cock slid into me without any resistance. Only then could I smell his breath. It was one of the humans, but I wasn't certain which. Not our master or one of the assistants. A few days later I would finally get a good enough sniff at the guard and be able to put a face to the male using me. He must have held his breath before now, or at least been careful not to exhale in my direction. But I quickly forgot about such matters. I had a hot cock inside me and it felt wonderful. He had not been fully erect when he entered me but I could feel him grow with every thrust. My muscles squeezed him as best as they could. He fucked me, gently, slowly almost lazily. I did what I could to urge him on, but it was pretty one-sided, I could move my hips perhaps an inch in either direction, but that was the limit of what my bonds, those on my ankles and the collar, allowed. I could move my arms a little more but not enough to make any difference. I was panting but apart from the breathing I couldn't make any noise. He could easily match what movements I could make and he set the pace, an agonizing slow one. I struggled to keep from coming before my 'lover' but it was difficult, so very difficult. After what had seemed like forever he suddenly turned his attention to my breasts, he kissed and licked them. Once he started sucking and nibbling on my rock hard nipples it was quickly over. I came, screaming our my pleasure silently. He kept me going and I had several orgasms before the spasms of the muscles inside my cunt set him off. The hot cum shot into me and gave me perhaps the most intense orgasm yet. He kept pumping a little more, then he slowed and pulled out. He wiped his cock on the soft fur on the inner side of my thighs and then he left.

I lay there, alone in the dark, satisfied for the moment and yet I hungered for more. It had been fun and at first all my thoughts about the encounter were good, but then something struck me. I realized that he had used me, used me as if I was just a thing and not a person. Up to now I had had a measure of control over what had happened to me, a minuscule amount but still. In a way even when I had been rather brutally raped the first evening, it had been my decision, at least insofar that I had decided not to resist. But now I realized that it had been only an illusion of control. And now that illusion had been shattered, perhaps in the nicest way possible, but somehow that made it hurt more. I realized that they had let me think I had any control, but they had let me have it and they could have taken it away whenever they wanted. Suddenly all the joy at the encounter was gone, it left me despondent and hammered home the futility of resisting. And yet my body was still yearning for more. I cried silent tears, though I could not say if they were caused by empty feeling of hopelessness or by the emptiness in my cunt. Eventually I fell asleep again.