Castle Bondage
Castle Bondage
From the outside, Castle Marlowe looks like a forbidding, cold, deserted place. But that's because no one really knows what goes on in there............
P A R T O N E
Down, down, down, past the dark rooms and long hallways, lower, past the secret labs and hidden passages, lies a basement, a dark, dank, damp place lit only by three torches. There are wide, smooth stone pillars down there, iron hooks and rusty chains. And, in a corner of that old dingy basement, there hangs a slender figure, dangling between two pillars, the chains that are around her wrists looped through rings set in each column Her legs are spread and chained to the two pillars on either side of her by the ankles. Large silver rings have been shoved through her nipples, and from each one hangs a three pound weight. Her cries echo through the dismal stone room, but no one comes to rescue her. The flames of the torches cast flickering shadows across her pretty face as she moans and sways, moans and sways, moans and sways, down in the lowest reaches of Champota's Lair.
She lifts her face to the cold stone ceiling, and studies the moss that grows in the damp mortar that seeps out of the cracks to take her mind off the pain from her weighted nipples, and it works.......for a while. Her chains clank against the stone pillars as she tries to stretch her aching muscles; and jars the weights. She cries out again with pain, then takes a deep breath as tears roll down her cheeks. "Help me," she breathes. She shivers with cold, and tries to reach up her tail to lay it across her breasts, but the angle with which she is bound prevents it, and her tail slips back down to dangle under her. Suddenly, she throws up her head at the screeching sound of sliding bolts. She stares into the darkness where the torches illuminate another figure, tall and slender as well. The form strides toward her, and the bound fur feels one more shudder race through her body, but not from the cold. The second shape stops before her, and croons in a voice that is distinctly feminine, "Did you have a nice sleep, my darling little bitch?" The dangling figure nods. Quick as a flash, the second fur slides two fingers through the chained fem's nipple-rings and yanks hard, bringing the secured figure's face toward her with a scream of agony. "How do you address me, pet?" The chained fem catches her breath and sobs out, "Yes, Master." The second fur releases her captive and lets her fall back between the pillars. "Very good." She reaches up and gives a hanging cord a swift jerk, and a bare bulb lights up overhead, exposing both of them. The captor fem grins wickedly. She is a pretty she-wolf, and her prisoner is an equally beautiful vixen, redfurred and bare naked. The she-wolf is clothed in a leather suit, with her nipples jutting out of specially cut holes in the black leather, as if the outfit were some type of lingerie. It is also cut low across her chest, so that the bound she-fox can see the wolf's huge, half-bare tits. She has dark makeup on and her flat stomach is revealed between thin strips of leather across it. Spiked bracelets and necklaces complete the dominatrix's getup. Her legs are long, bare, and shapely, and the entire black leather suit veers into a thong at the bottom, showing off her tight ass and long, bushy tail. This is Champota.
The she-wolf picks up a long, thin leather whip from a hook set in the wall. "Now, just a little reminder......." The vixen screams as the lash snakes across her breasts with the speed of a striking cobra, and zips back for another blow. A thin line of red stands out on her left tit, and the whip is back again, flogging her breasts, her stomach, her sides, her thighs. Champota hauls back the leather strap and lets its bloodstained coils fall to the floor. The vixen sags in her chains, sobbing, salty tears running down her face to drip down onto her breasts and sting the cuts there. The she-wolf steps close and uses the butt of the whip to force the vixen's eyes to meet her own. "Whose your master?" The vixen's tearstained eyes are full of pain and fear. "Y-you are, Master," she hiccups past her sobs of agony. Champota grins, and fondles one of the vixen's lacerated breasts, digging her claws into the cuts cruelly and making the she-fox quiver with anguish. "Very good."
Stepping over to a evil-looking machine, the she-wolf presses a button, and the contraption whirs to life, and purrs contentedly, waiting for the redfurred vixen. It is a seat, cut out in the middle in such a way that anyone who sits on it will have to recline with their legs spread. A long, huge, thick, red, rubber dragon-dildo juts up right at cunt-level in front of the chair. Various chains and electrical wires dangle from its high, curved top. Two lengths of metal at the base of the bondage chair have velcro straps to hold a fur's feet still. To finish the sinister machine's look, two shackles hang from the chair's top, ready for two wrists to be fitted into them. Champota snickers, "We're going to play a new game today, my dear." Pulling jangly keys from her belt, the she-wolf unlocks the vixen's chains, and snaps a leash to the shock-collar the she-fox wears. Yanking her down, the she-wolf makes her slave crawl on all fours to the chair. Champota velcroes the vixen's feet to the footholds, spreads her legs wider on the split chair and straps her thighs to the metal bars of the seat to keep them wide open. Clamping the shackles around the captive's wrists, the she-wolf inserts the electrical cords between the cold metal and the vixen's skin. She also slips cables into tiny holes in her slave's nipple-rings.
Champota steps back and pushes another button on the machine's surface. The tremendous dildo springs to life and begans to push against the vixen's pussy. The she-wolf takes a remote into her hand. Grabbing a small joystick, she levels the handheld controller toward the she-fox's left breast and yanks the joystick back. The vixen screams with pain as an electric jolt races through her breast, and tries to break away from the chains. Champota zaps her again, this time in the right tit. The vixen shrieks and spreads her thighs. The huge red dragon-dildo slides a few inches inside of the she-fox. Champota grins. This is what she's been waiting for. Pressing a big blue button, she laughs as the dildo begins to glow with heat and thrusts itself deeper inside the vixen, who screams with agony as the huge, thick thing burns her from the inside. The dildo starts to whir and grows hotter as it moves in and out, in and out, in and out of the she-fox, crackling with electrical heat. Champota feels herself grow wet. many times she's strapped herself in that chair and turned the dildo on to pleasure her. To increase her twisted delight, she shocks the vixen again and again, feeling her cunt throb in time with the mechanical whir of the giant dildo.
The she-wolf switches it off, and watches as the she-fox slumps in the seat, bleeding, burned, and sobbing with pain and humilliation. Champota clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "You didn't do it right, Slave. You're supposed to enjoy it." The vixen whimpers as the she-wolf zaps her one more time, but she's thinking, Bitch! Champota steps forward, snaps the leash to the she-fox's shock collar, and yanks her from the chair. The she-wolf leans back against a pillar and shoves the vixen's face between her thighs, pulling the thin strap of her thong aside. "Ohhhh," she breathes, as the she-fox begans to lick her obediently. The vixen tastes the she-wolf's cunt, knowing every inch of her, then reaches up for Champota's throbbing clit. She sucks the hard knob, then tongues the she-wolf's dripping pussy again, feeling the heat build and build until the dominatrix creams, the sweet stuff flooding over the vixen's tongue. Licking her master clean, the she-fox awaits Champota's next order. Panting with the strain of her orgasm, the wolf drags the fox up and yanks her to yet another vile-looking contraption. It is two thick nooses dangling just at thigh-level. The she-wolf forces the she-wolf to climb into this and hang helplessly on her back, one rope circle around her hips, the other under her back. Champota grins wickedly, then reaches for another dildo. This time, the long, thick piece of rubber is black, and resembles a stallioncock. Champota straps it on and grips her Slave's thighs, but not before she hauls a thin chain with a four pound weight hanging from it over to her. Spreading the vixen wider, she fingers around until she finds the hole in her clit. Hooking the end of the chain through the tiny puncture, the she-wolf shivers with delight as the weight plummets toward the floor, provoking an agonized shriek from the vixen as it tears her clit wider. The dominatrix, who loves little electronic gadgets and such, presses a small blue button on the bottom of the dildo. Immediately, hundreds of tiny barbs spring out from the tough black rubber, and Champota shoves the strap-on inside the vixen cruelly, savoring her scream of pain as the little spikes rip the sides of her pussy and draw blood, which acts as lubrication for the she-wolf as she slides in and out of her prisoner. The she-fox's shrieks die down to moans as the rope hammock swings back and forth in time with Champota's thrusts. Sweat beads on the vixen's body as she stares up at the ceiling; the barbs on the dildo tear her more as the black rubber rams deeper inside; Champota moans with pleasure, her cunt throbbing as she lunges and thrusts, delighting in the vixen's pain. Suddenly, with a cry, the she-wolf creams; waves of intense pleasure sweep over her. She can't help but slip two fingers inside herself, shuddering with ecstasy as she bangs herself slowly. The vixen waits until Champota cums again, then slides readily from the rope nooses and lies beside her Master's feet.
Throwing the strap-on aside, the dominatrix hauls the fox to her feet by the leash and the nipple-rings, making her Slave scream in agony, then pulls the whip out again and lashes the vixen wildly, her pussy throbbing with twisted pleasure as the redfurred she-fox shrieks and writhes on the smooth, cold stones of the basement, her blood smearing the floor. Champota whips her until she can take it no longer and falls back against a column, crying out with pleasure. Grabbing the vixen, Champota licks eagerly at her fresh blood, which runs in dark red trickles across the she-fox's smooth, furred flesh. Pulling hard at the clitchain, and lapping hungrily at the blood, the perverted dominatrix relishes her Slave's cries of pain as she cuts new incisions across her body with a small razor, and licks the blood that flows from them as well. The vixen sobs with pain, but dares not struggle, as her Master satisfies herself upon the red blood and her cries of suffering.
Champota finally rises from her victim, muzzle stained scarlet. "Too bad," she croons as she yanks the she-fox to her feet. "All good things must come to an end." Making the vixen grovel behind her, the she-wolf tows her back to the pillars, and chains her there, leaving the clitchain on. The vixen watches Champota, stinging and aching all over from her cuts and slashes, as the dominatrix sits down the electrical chair, straps herself in, and turns the dildo on. Shrieking and moaning with pleasure, Champota arches and thrusts against the huge red rubber thing as it slides deeper and deeper inside her. The she-fox looks away. Once she has reached climax, the she-wolf shuts off the dildo machine and stands in front of her Slave, cream dripping slowly down the inside of her thighs. The vixen whimpers in pain as Champota digs her claws into a gash across her breast and runs her tongue across the she-fox's neck, where the blood has already begun to dry.
Stroking the vixen's hips, thighs, and ass, the dominatrix rubs her hard nipples against the she-fox's own, thrusting like a snake against her Slave's bare, spread crotch. The she-fox gives an obedient moan of pleasure, but not because she wants to, just because if she doesn't please Champota, she'll be thrown to the wolf's three dragons. The she-wolf slips two fingers inside her prisoner and slides them in and out, in and out, in and out. This time, the vixen doesn't have to fake her cry of delight; it feels so good, even against the torn walls of her sore pussy. Champota grins, then digs her claws into a cut and yanks hard. The she-fox screams with agony as the dominatrix pulls her fingers out, red with blood, and licks them. "Poor, poor little foxy. Whose your Master?" The she-fox holds back her sobs, even as tears drip down her cheeks. "You are......Master."
Champota smiles, and turns to go. The vixen strains against her chains. "Please, Master, food.....water, please." The she-wolf looks back. "Oh. Hmmm. Let's see.....are you worthy of food and water?" The she-fox hangs in her chains, making no effort to stop the tears that fall. "N-no, Master." Inwardly, she seeths with rage. Bitch! Bitch! Bitch! Champota grins. "Well, I'll be nice.......today." Moving to a small corner cabinet, the dominatrix takes out a piece of stale bread and a small cup. Slamming the bread into the vixen's mouth, the she-wolf half-fills the cup with water from a leaky tap, then pulls aside her throngcrotch and fills the rest of it with her creamy piss, like a guy. She laughs as she pours it down her Slave's throat, yanking on her nipple-ring, her eyes slitted and evil with wicked delight. The she-fox gags and chokes on the bitter cup of piss and water, but she knows she must drink it all if she is to live. After the last sour drop has been swallowed, Champota steps back, picks up the bread from where it has fallen onto the cold stone floor, and shoves it into her prisoner's mouth. "Nighty night, my little bloodtittie. We'll play a new game tomorrow; one with lots of toys." Laughing, the she-wolf dominatrix climbs the creaky stairs, opens the door, goes through it into the rest of her castle, and slides the bolt back with a screech. The vixen chokes down the rest of the dry bread, and winces from the stomach cramps that suddenly arise as the old food hits her piss-sodden stomach. She struggles to keep it down, staring at a nearby torch, wondering what twisted, horrible games Champota has for her tomorrow, and swaying, swaying, swaying, down in the lowest reaches of Castle Marlowe.
H E R E E N D S P A R T O N E