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Monday, 26th April 830 / Cyrila Capital - The Ball

The sharp beating of a longcase clock announced the passing midnight, stirring me from my unsought nap. I yawned, my jaw creaked stiffly, and I wondered how long I had been dozing off. Muffled voices seeped from the closed door, the duke Schimon still immersed in a heated conversation with the captain of the royal guard. Straightening from a luxurious hallway bench I tip toed close to the white door, wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation. But imagining what the she-wolf would do to me if she had found me with my foxy ear latched onto the side of the door, I shook my head at myself and turned on heel. Swiping my feet across the floor I stopped at a window, steamed the glass with puffs of my breath and opened it at crack.

The air softly blew over my face and I removed the golden mask for a short while, the fresh draft tickling my fur. With my elbows rested on a sill board I waited and waited, my muzzle sinking down on its own, tiredness and boredom overwhelming me. The door flew open with a tug, startling me, Schimon stood in the doorway with a satisfied grin of his muzzle.

His step had a lively spring to it as he walked next to me, opening his arms. "A truly peculiar day. Not only did I meet you, but I also haggled good terms. I'd like to celebrate with some wine, if you're not against."

"And where do you intend to get it at this late hour?" A loud yawn clawed from within my throat. "Sorry. I'm really tired."

"Well, I have a bottle stashed away in my personal coach," he said, puffing his chest. "Along with some comfy pillows too."

Lilith joined us in the dimly lit hallway, still sporting her fiery attitude and swaying her tail as if a blunt weapon. Her personal henchmen followed right after, a duo of men that looked more akin to bandits than anything I'd expect from a royal guard.

"Schimon!" The she-wolf slapped a document tube sharply onto his chest, the duke jolting in surprise. "You forgot this. And think of what I said."

He sharply snatched the tube from her paw. "I already chose. You can't expect me to just follow orders."

She wrinkled her nose in disdain and dragged her thin upper-lip higher, her pronounced wolf fangs shining from the crack of her mouth. "Do as you want. I will escort you back to the ball room now."

"Please? Am I a prisoner in the king's castle?." Schimon responded in a high pitched tone.

Laughing menacingly Lilith set off, gesturing to her henchmen. They positioned themselves behind us, prepared to intervene if we misbehaved.

"No. I cannot leave an unidentified guest strolling here willy-nilly. Move." Her voice firm and commanding, I deemed it too risky to tease her and followed orders. I tiredly placed my foot in front of another, wanting nothing more but to lay my head down in Schimon's personal coach and drift into sweet dreams.

"I could do with some cuddling once we're on the road, lady," the duke whispered into my ear; his idea I found very welcome.

Even if I was starting to feel relaxed, sensing the relentless stare of the wolf captain and her two followers chipped away from my confidence with every passing moment. Out of obstinate curiosity I found myself glancing over my shoulder at the trio. Lilith looked indifferent, the stare of her otherwise sharp eyes was dull - empty even - as she seemed to be lost in thoughts.

Landing my eyes on the first of the henchmen my blood started to freeze; he was a strikingly tall horse morph with bluntly shaped muzzle and ebony black fur that had no shine whatsoever. The flaps of his dark-blue suit were swinging along with the heavy stomping of his feet, what I could see of his mane tied at the back of his head into a knot, his black pants unnaturally bulging at the crotch - even for a horse - and the expression of his rough face forcing my imagination to invent the worst of possible horrors that could be brewing in his mind.

The second guy wasn't much better. He was a human with a pair of tired, bloodshot eyes and wide cheeks, the pale skin of his face pulled taut over his features. A few strands of sleek, dark-brown hair peeked from under his small hat, which he tilted down once I swept my stare over to his eyes. A long beige coat hugged his body closely, his step was stiff and devoid of energy, his hands hidden behind his back.

"Watch your step." Schimon warned me, but as I was looking back at our escort it was too late for me to notice a big fold on the carpet.

A surprised squeal is the only sound I made as I hit the fold with my shoe and lost all balance, falling flat on my muzzle. Reeling in pain I clenched my eyes shut. I landed on my knees, and feeling my pussy lips tingle, I realized I had rolled my skirt all the way up in the accident. I could only imagine all the eyebrows raising at the sight of my nude sex. Trying to get up as quickly as I could I opened my eyelids, stars flashing and fading in the corners of my eyes, when Schimon grabbed my hand and slowly pulled to help me up.

Lilith exclaimed, "You can't be serious." A devious chuckle seeped into her otherwise serious tone. She then stepped onto my skirt, keeping it in place, and as I was hastily rising to my feet a loud ripping sound echoed in the hallway. My dress tore in half, a harsh revelation of my nude body from the waist down, the emerald green silk of my skirt stuck in place under Lilith's boot.

Schimon's brow clouded in deep confusion. "Was this necessary?!"

The she-wolf ignored him, focusing her rage on me. "Marcella, fucking, Gale! The last slut I'd ever expect seeing here." She grinned at me, then commanded her men. "Get hold of her!"

The surly bodyguards were all over me in a blink of an eye, subduing me into obedience. Before I could try anything they aggressively forced my hands behind my back and held so tight I felt their fingertips digging into my flesh. I growled, grinding my teeth in anger. I was so close to succeeding...

"Where do you bitch know me from?! I'd remember such a shrivelled wolf relic!" I snarled, trying to tear away from the tight grasp of her men. Smirking, she gracefully walked in front of me, tore the golden mask from my face and slapped me with all the force of her open hand. She had spared me her claws, but I had very little appreciation for the gesture.

Running a claw by my aching with pain cheek, she said, "You have a distinctive fur pattern."

The duke was standing stoic, his mouth open slightly agape and eyes wide in disillusion. "Marcella? Lilith, what is this about?"

"Oh, you idiot. Perhaps she was after your wealth?" The she-wolf clasped my muzzle in her hand, forcing me to look directly into her eyes. Speaking through her teeth she taunted me. "Wrong duke, slut. This one is broke."

I couldn't stand her stupid face anymore. There was no way out for me, I had lost and nothing could change it. But feeling my own erratic heartbeat deep in the sore flesh of my sore, swelling cheek, I concentrated on the pain, and the incredible rage filling me. Lifting my leg I tensed my muscles, trying to aim my strike at the boot of the human guard holding me in place. Giving it my all I slammed the heel of my shoe into his foot, crushing the bastard's thumb, his agony filled shriek ripping through my ear. Before anyone could react I tore my arm from the firm grasp of the horse guard. The confusion quickly dissipated and he forced his body atop mine, attempting to restrict me.

Digging the claws of my free hand in his thigh I escaped his crushing grasp. He grunted in pain, and to add to it, I threw my fist against the bulge of his pants, sending the ample contents flying in its confines. I couldn't revel in his agony for long, as I still had the angry captain of the guard on my back - quite literally too - with her arms and elbows tightening around my neck. Despite everything that had preceded Schimon tore her off me, only for Lilith to quickly elbow him into submission. He fell stiffly onto his back, and using his sacrifice to the fullest, I charged at the wolf.

We both flew through the slightly open double door, further bruising our bodies. With all the momentum I had, I only stopped by hitting a luxurious chair and clumsily rolling over it. The pain was only a small distraction from what I was looking forward to: clawing Lilith into a bloodied mess. I quickly sprung to my feet, but to my dismay, right into the way of her dazzling slap. It sent me reeling a few steps back, over onto a bed where I fell between two guests, both stiffly lying in place and watching us with wide, open eyes.

Calmly and with a hint of pity, Lilith snarled, "You think you can take me?"

Forcefully barging into the room, her henchmen almost tore the double door from the hinges.

She calmed her guards. "Stand down, men. She wants a fight, and I aim to please." Lifting her muzzle in disdain she turned to me, then smirked. "Get on your feet."

Leaving the frightened lovebirds, I got into a fighting stance, calming my breath and my heartbeat at the same time. Experimentally, I jabbed at her face, Lilith immediately counter attacking and attempting to grab my hand, that I luckily retracted before she could. I softly tip toed to the side, the wolf captain following me carefully, a predatory grin etched into her pointy wolf face. Throwing another punch at her she reacted differently, but I simply needed her to react at all. Ducking my head under her vicious rebuttal I plunged forward, grabbing the skirt of her ball dress. Smiling ear to ear I pulled hard, throwing the loudly growling wolf on her back..

Not wasting any time I jumped on top of her and locked her in place with my thighs. Closing my hand in a fist, I hissed, "I think you're just too old for this." Feeling her muzzle creak under the impact of my hand I couldn't contain a chuckle, but with my second strike she shifted her head and all I hit was the hard floor under her.

Arching her torso wildly she kicked me off onto the ground, freeing herself. As I was about to lift myself to my knees, the wolf dashed next to me and swiftly kicked me under my ribcage, robbing me of my breath. With a glint of her vividly green eyes she unsheathed a knife, slipped it into the fabric of her dress and ripped the skirt off. Falling slowly to the ground it revealed a naked slit of a wolf vulva, sunken deep into fluffy fur of her nether region. A moment too long I kept staring at her dirty cunt, not expecting to see her so vulgarly naked.

"That won't work again. And besides, I like to distract my targets before the kill too." She said, gazing at my pubic mound. "Stand up!" commanding with a loud bark she returned back into her stance, her short wolf tail swaying side to side.

Mustering all of my inner strength I wobbled onto my feet. Wiping spit from my lips I flicked it at her, the wolf flinching, and I rushed to attack. Her fist scraped the side of my ear - nearly hitting me in my sore cheek - and still moving forward, I threw a punch, hitting her in the neck Following with my other fist I hit her belly, the wolf gasping from the harsh blow. But my lucky streak lasted only for a short moment, as she eventually grabbed one of my paws and twisted it into an unnatural angle, sending rippling waves of agony through it.

"You call yourself warrior, slut?" An indignation coming from her smiling muzzle, followed right after by a dazzling slap right across my sore cheek. Not sparing me the claws I felt two burning scars across the side of my face, pulsing and dripping droplets of fresh blood. Twisting my sore hand further she slapped me with the back of her rigid paw, across the other cheek. The blow turned me in place, sending my consciousness into a dazed spin.

I felt her fingers creeping across my neck, then the whole arm, and once I felt her elbow locking my neck relentlessly, I meekly cried in terror, trying to wriggle out of her tight squeeze. Gaining some focus I tried to hit her with my elbow only to sway into free air, missing and failing miserably.

Panting loudly she forced her slurs directly into my folded ear. "What now, slut? Spread your legs and offer yourself to me?" She bucked her naked groin against my butt, her rough fur scraping mine. "But I have no cock. Tough luck."

Her mind-play echoed in my mind as I was slowly losing grip on reality. Lilith flexed her arm, the muscles in my neck gave way and I almost fainted, my knees crumbling under me. Falling to the carpet I hoped dearly she wouldn't snap my neck like a dry twig, but if I knew what was to happen to me in the following days, I'd hope the exact opposite. Powerlessly splayed on the carpet with the wolf captain crushing me with her weight I lost all air, and fell into limbo.

Unknown Day April 830 / Cyrila Capital - Prison cell

A splash of icy cold water woke me up, welcoming me with a sour smell of a filthy dungeon. It landed on my face in a thick layer, trickled along every curve of my face to finally drip from the strands of my rustled fur.. Gasping in shock I tore my eyes open, only to be blinded by a sharp, white light. I had to close my eyelids from the sheer discomfort. Still feeling it stinging painfully, I tried to cover myself with my hand. I softly moved my paw, but something was blocking it; I tugged more forcefully grinding my wrist against a sharp, circular object. The dread in me grew fast, soon I was screaming in fear and fighting mindlessly against my restraints, both hands and my head locked in a firm stockade.

Feeling a hand patting me on my forehead I stiffened, forgetting to breath. A sleek, male voice greeted me. "Stop squirming, you'll break yourself." The hand removed itself from my face, tracing its fingers by the curves of my muzzle when the man spoke again. "I wonder if men behaved. It's not often we get such a good looking prisoner down here. And of the correct gender."

I turned my head after the sound of heavy footsteps. In my half blind state I followed my captor solely with my ears, hearing his steps going by my side, only to finally stop far back next to my rear - terror overcame me. Whimpering desperately and shaking with my irregular heartbeat, I expected the worst. I felt him softly tugging my tail, lifting it up, and one hand firmly sunk into the fur of my derrière, pulling my left cheek aside.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, desperate, broken. Alone. "Don't you dare you son of a bitch! Don't you even fucking dare!"

"Shut it! I'm checking if you're clean." A big finger brushed by my dry pussy lips, then the whole hand clasped my labia and the man traced his fingers up to the root of my tail, probing my ass softly on his way. I tensed so hard my jaw creaked, with his hand removed and footsteps moving back in front of me, I sighed in relief.

My vision slowly returning to me I looked up, my neck stinging painfully, recognizing a horse shaped muzzle on an overly tall, clothed silhouette. It was one of Lilith's henchmen, specifically the one I had punched in his pride. He grasped my muzzle and lifted it, forcing me to look into his eyes. "This place still has some discipline. You're clean."

Dragging a chair inside he positioned it next to a falling apart table, then sat in it harshly, the poor thing giving one high pitched creak. The horse lit a wall candle, immersing what looked like a small, stone cell into a flickering soft light. He reached with his large hand to the door and closed it, the rattling of the lock reminding me how hopeless the situation was. For the time being I felt thankful that the man decided to leave me unpunished thus far, and I tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position. Looking at my hands limply hanging from the wooden stocks I let my head fall down in the same manner, hanging by my strained neck.

Stretching my limbs my thigh muscles started to quiver; as high as the stocks were I could really choose between only two positions. I could either stand on my feet, my butt splayed fully on display and me forced to be bent, or resting on my knees, but with my bottom not reaching the ground fully, which put me into an equally physically stressful position. At the end I decided to keep on my knees, when my strength would fully leave me I wouldn't at least crack my bones in the fall.

To keep myself sane I focused on escape, there just had to be a way, and no matter how hopeless the task, it kept me from giving up completely. Slowly turning my head I looked for anything to aid me. Right in front of me was a big locked door, the bulk of it built from wood, while the edges and the lock were reinforced with metal plates. My neck bones snapped as I aimed my muzzle to my left. In the corner of the stone laid room was only a bucket, most likely filled with water the horse had used to wake me, but otherwise nothing.

That had left me with only one direction, the horse-morph to my right, sitting on the creaky chair and reading a small book. Trying to stretch my stiffened hands my ring-finger felt lighter than it should have; seeing my right hand devoid of my gold ring a wave of shiver inducing anxiety washed over my back. My captor noticed the dismay playing my face, put away his book and leaned closer to me.

"What is it little foxy?" His question had a spiteful undertone.

"My ring! Where is my ring you bastard?!"

A smile widened his horse face. "Losing a useless trinket is the least of your worries. How about I take away one of your claws? Close it in metal pliers firmly, then pull and tug, not long before your flesh weakens and I tear it clean off. I love doing it to cats. They desperately retract their claws, writhing in defiance as I dig into their fingers and pluck them out anyway."

Imagining the terrible deed my own claws half retracted. He noticed, stroking my shaking hand. "You'd be fun too, so better cooperate when the captain shows up."

Pissing off the man was the worst idea I had, but also the only I came up with. "How are your balls, stud. Nicely ripping and swollen?" I closed my eyes to shield myself, expecting him to slap me across the face in rage. But no such assault came.

Snorting, he stood up from his seat, positioned his crotch in front of my face and opened his pants. His deflated manhood flopped out, smacking me across the nose on its way down between his thighs, before he held his unnaturally swollen testicles up in front of my eyes. "See for yourself, cunt!"

I whimpered desperately, my vixenhood clamping down in fear.

His voice was forcing itself into my folded ears, scraping me like a rusty knife. "It will take several weeks before I heal. Happy with yourself?" He paused, pressing his bruised balls on my lips. "Do you feel sorry? Hm? Lick them gently."

I submissively extended my tongue, feeling the soft skin on the tip, but I couldn't bring myself to comply. "Can we strike a deal? I'll heal you," I said, my shaky voice muffled by the oversized manhood covering my muzzle.

"Really? And how? Does your pussy have magical healing properties?"

I cried out, "No!"

He took a step back, freeing my face of his musky crotch. "Let's pretend I give a shit. How?"

"Place your balls in my hand. I know a healing spell, one touch and you'll be mating mares like nothing happened."

He grabbed the wrist of my hand, crushing my joint how powerfully he squeezed down. The other hand he placed on my throat, digging his thumb and index finger into specific spots where my head connected to my neck.

"Do as you offered." He twisted my hand up painfully and placed his hurting nuts into my open paw, the warm skin flattening against my finger pads. For a fraction of a second I thought of closing my claws around his disgusting sack, but after a long while - when everything seemed to have frozen still - I focused my energy and my sweat covered pads burned painfully, healing the one person that deserved it perhaps the least. I watched in masked awe as the pillar of horse meat extended, flaring at the tip slightly, stopping at twenty eight centimetres and dripping one long stream of pre ejaculate from its urethra. Normally, I'd be all over a finely sculpted pillar of masculinity such as that, but given my situation, I turned my eyes away in disgust and once his thick, musky scent filled the small cell, I gagged dryly.

The merciless crushing of my neck and wrist subsided, the horse man gasping high above me. "You told the truth." He smacked his lips together. "Now the fun can begin."

"What?! We didn't agree to that!" My stomach tied into a knot at the appalling revelation. How stupid was I, to heal my own violator so that he could rape me?

"Agreed?" He chuckled. "You have no rights. If I deem it necessary, I'll make you the bearer of my foals. Is that clear?"

With my ring gone his words were enough to scare me. And once I felt his gooey sex fluids rubbed into my dry nose, his flared tip taking all of my vision, I cried in a high pitch, "Please... I beg you! Please! Don't do this to me! I helped you!" How different it felt, having no say in anything. It was not my choice to stand still and take it. No, I was forced to withstand every loathsome perversity that he came up with, and no amount of protesting could change that.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a lowly coward who has to rape a bound women to get some," he said. I exhaled, relieved, again feeling oddly thankful for the gesture. Dropping his bottom back onto the chair he spread his legs wide, slowly stroking his horse meat into release. "No at all. I prefer finding a high and mighty mare in a bar. Then, I fill her ear with sweet lies until she is giggling like a dumb cunt at my every remark, and dragging her into an alley, I fuck her bareback till she squeals in ecstasy. Yes, that's exactly how I like my women."

I let my muzzle drop down again, my nose flaring from my exertion induced puffs of breath. The horse-morph was beating his cock with a closed palm, a lewd meaty sound echoing in the small cell, the monotony only pierced here and there by a rough moan of his, or a meek whimper of mine. With a mighty roar my captor reached release, I tensed in my restraints as his seed shot from his tip in wild spurts, coating a near stone brick wall in thick droplets of his creamy white cum. Trickling down the pronounced bricks the liquid stringed over its deep recesses, disgusted with myself I almost wanted a taste.

I shuddered and turned away, closing my eyes. Sleeping was out of question, I feared being abused in my sleep, but I at least tried to relax. Hours, or minutes, passed, only gods can tell, when a sharp knocking on the door stirred me back into reality. The horse guard unlocked the latch, behind the door the she-wolf Lilith, smirking wide and rubbing hands. I clenched my teeth, knowing she was about to punish me harshly.

She barked her first order, her bosom jiggling under the loose cleavage of her uniform. "Get your lazy ass up and bring the tools. This is supposed to be torture, and she is sitting in there relaxed!"

The horse man quickly sprung to his feet. "Yes captain." Closing the door behind us, Lilith had me all for herself.

"Marcella Gale. Your infamy precedes you. You know, impersonating a noble in the castle is a serious offence. I want to know why you tried to seduce the duke Schimon. And who exactly you work for." She sat herself on the squeaky chair in front of me, piercing me with her stare and awaiting reply.

I gulped down my fear, defiantly replying, "What do you think you old hag. I fuck for money. The guy happened to be desperate and with full pockets, so I provided."

A rough slap followed, throwing my skull against the sturdy wood of the stocks. Like a spawn of hell she was staring down my face, her expression fit of the devil's right hand. "I'm going to ask again, 'Natalia', who do you work for."

"I work for the goddess Tanith, sharing the love of my body with those that need it the most."

A second, stronger, slap followed, straining my neck further and forcing me to cry from the stinging pain. She unsheathed a small knife, its polished surface reflecting my trembling eyes in it, its edge dancing dangerously before my face. "Third time is the charm. Who do you work for?" She hissed.

"The wolves of Kordonia asked me to find their harem bitch." Was Mana and his cause worth defending with my own life? I really questioned myself.

She growled soundly, flashing me her fangs before she stood up and grabbed my left ear, stretching the skin painfully. My old scar parted wide and I groaned in discomfort, knowing too well what she plotted.

"Look at that. Someone forgot to finish the job..." Her voice tailed, I felt the edge of the blade sinking into the end of the scar, deliberately and with mind wrecking slowness cutting it further, and at the same time, she was pulling at the end of my ear strongly - more ripping it off than cutting. In the act of mutilation I was throwing and wriggling my body in amok, shaking my restraints along with me.

"You illness ridden wolf bitch! I swear to gods, I will survive this, and I will find you, and ram an arrow up your slimy cunt!" I screamed perilously, more in pure anger than pain, rivulets of warm blood covering the side of my face and pooling in the corner of my eye. They were words I aimed to fulfil.

Done tearing my ear away she held the fur covered skin up, playing with it in her fingers. "Such fervour. But be sure, I will break you eventually." She then threw the former tip of my ear down a drainage pipe somewhere under me, meant for bodily waste.

Incredible weakness seeped through every strand of my fur. As if someone was grabbing my heart and firmly squeezing, I felt the pressure in my chest growing, and at the same time, my consciousness passing away. But the she-wolf wouldn't let me, she splashed me with the full bucket of icy cold water, burdening me to endure more. The door opened again, Lillith's horse henchman walking in with a dozen of restraints and torture devices.

"Drop it on the table and bring the tail stretcher." She commanded.

The man picked a small leather cuff with a chain attached to it, presented it for me and then walked out of my view, behind me. Judging by the name I clenched my anus shut, imagining the horrors they wanted to do to me.

The she-wolf's commanding voice graced my ears. "Lift her ass up and stretch her legs." I felt a pair of rigid hands sinking into my soft bottom, lifting me up when a smaller hand twisted my tail high. The wolf attached something small to the base of my tail, fastened it painfully tight, and I heard the rattling of the chain being connected to something high in the ceiling.

"Is your tail comfortable? Keep yourself on your legs, if you don't want to tear it off." She hissed into my freshly cut ear, her voice more of a torment than the dull pain of my open wound.

I had to keep fully on my toes so as to sooth the discomfort in my tail. But just five minutes in my legs started to wobble, and I had to slowly ease onto my heels. The pulling in my tail intensified and I winced in discomfort.

"She looks so cute struggling." The horse mocked me and slapped my ass with an open palm.

They both left the small cell, putting out the candle to plunge me in complete darkness and the she-wolf shot me one last mockery filled comment. "Use the time alone to think of your mistakes. Later, I will ask you again. And I expect answers."

The lock fell in place and I exhaled softly, shuffling my feet to find an easier position for myself. For long hours I denied myself sleep, constantly changing positions, hoping to keep my tail out of the harms way. But eventually, the incredible coldness of the room drained me of all my strength and I passed out, hanging limply from the ceiling by my hurting brush.

Unknown Day April 830 / Cyrila Capital - Prison cell

A sharp, stinging pain stirred me from my troubled sleep, plunging me back into the dismay of being at the slightest whim of my captors. I quickly tensed my feet to ease the ravaged base of my tail, only for my muscles to spasm violently, and for me to slip on the moist stones of the cell floor, putting the whole weight of my lower body back on my tail. I winced at first, trying to stifle my whimpers when I let out an agonized wail, in its intensity rippling through my gullet and reverberating in the claustrophobic confines of my cell.

A pair of big hands lifted me up by my waist, caressingly almost, and feeling pinching in the bruised root of my tail, the tight leather cuff clasping it firm was gently removed. The arms then lowered me onto the floor and eased the bulk of my pain, big fingers withdrawing from my fur slowly.

A familiar, smooth voice of one of my captors greeted me. "Damn that screaming of yours. I think I'm deaf." Water churned in a metal bucket, when I felt the man dumping it whole under my tail. Putting the bucket back down it clanged sharply against the stone floor and he sneered. "I can't believe how much shit there was in you. Good thing you were asleep."

My insides felt sore and desecrated. A trickle of cold water dripped down the crack of my but, brushing by my loosened up orifice; remnants of the deep cleaning. I whimpered at the thought, at my impotence to do anything, right before a fit of anger etched itself in my gut and I threw myself against my restraints, quaking the stocks with what energy I had left in me.

In the dimly lit, stony cell the horse walked in front of my face and chuckled, "Save that for the guy I prepared you for." Closing the impenetrable door behind him he glanced at me one last time, his brows rising up, his lips forming in a thin line - almost a compassionate look which had dazzled me further. "Hmph... Try to keep sane, ok? I'll bring over food once the fool is done with you." He stood in place, exhaled softly, and closed the door forcefully behind him, the resulting daft of air nearly putting the candle out.

I whimpered for long minutes, a tear forming in the corner of my eye and growing bigger and bigger, but never enough to run down my cheek. My mind cleared a bit and I tried to heal my wounds, bending my hand close to my face as much as my tortured wrist allowed me, I calmed myself and focused, pleasant warmth concentrated on my fingertips before it seeped onto my cheek. I felt the scars Lilith had marked me with closing, too little for them to fully disappear, but enough for the sore flesh to calm over. Just as I closed the pulsing gash of my mangled left ear, the latch of the door rattled open and a human stepped in.

I gasped in terror, seeing contours of a human face I never hoped to see again, short, raven-black hair glistening in the dim light of the candle, and lips curling in a hungry, teeth revealing smile. My heart skipped enough beats for my chest to feel like it was to rupture open, and knowing his ways, I turned my gaze and closed my eyes shut. I was too broken to question why he was even in Cyrilia.

At Bosnar's voice my ears fold meekly. "Oh, you're even cuter than I remember. When I heard they chained you here, I just had to see you." His putrid breath washed over my face as he squatted down, and extending his tongue, licked along the whole length of my muzzle, lapping up the tear that had only then decided to run from the corner of my closed eye. "Mmm. Salty. Don't cry small vixen, I'm here now. You were lonely?"

I held my breath, too shaken to even draw air. There was nothing to say, no reason to protest, only close shut and hope for a quick end.

Scratching my chin he said, "Can I start with your mouth? You know, any hidden contraband and such..."

I opened my mouth wide, feeling every muscle on my face twitch, opening my eyes only so slightly, and waited. Waited, for his shaft to force itself in. Waited, for my fangs to dig into his glans, as I wanted to bite him the second I'd feel his precum on my tongue.

"I'm not that stupid, Marcella." He licked his lips slowly. "Mmmm... Marcella. I love saying your name aloud." The sound of his pants opening horrified me. "I'm quite sad my seed didn't take the last time. Maybe we should try again?"

I tore my eyes open in shock. "You... if you do that.... you rotten bastard-"

He silenced me. "What? You weren't so worried last time. You actually moaned in lust when I emptied myself into your pussy."

"In lust? In lust! A woman only screams in terror when you fuck her!"

"Terror, lust. Sounds the same to me." He forced me on my knees, groped my butt firmly and spread my legs apart, preparing me like a piece of cheap furniture for himself. In a light tone he remarked, "In being a guard I learned one... very simple thing. You want to fuck a morph bitch? All it takes is to ask!" He gasped, placing the crown of his cock firmly on my dry nether lips. "So then. I ask you, bold and proud warrior of the distant Kingdom of Vulsa, are you willing to welcome my seed in your womb?"

I sobbed strongly, out of my very own control, "No... Please, anything but that. Ravage me as you please-" I choked on my own words. "I won't fight. Just by the gods, don't make me pregnant." My eyes burned and winced, warm tears trickling down my cheeks and seldom dripping from my trembling chin onto the floor.

In one swift motion Bosnar switched targets, obstinately grinding at my tailhole. "Such a shame. But what lady wishes I do." Under the constant pressure of his sizable head my ass gave way, and despite him forcing in with no lubrication, the man moaned in pleasure. "Such a sweet vixen. Your ass feels like velvet."

I squirmed in disgust, he was slowly grinding back and forth, the sizable head stretching my walls painfully. All of my body rejected the intrusion, and not only was my opening stinging, being speared so roughly open, but all of my bowels burned in discomfort. The nausea formed into a lump in my throat, Bosnar sunk increasing length of his unruly phallus deep in me and I gagged, my throat stiffening and contracting. With the humble aid of his precum he bottomed out in me, the girth of his tool stretching my distended opening wide enough that I felt close to bursting.

Grinding teeth I hoped to stay silent, robbing my rapist of the satisfaction of hearing my cry, but with a powerful buck of his hips I groaned in pain, and with every stroke onward my screams grew in pitch. I felt something warm seeping through the fur of my hands, dripping along my wrists. I had closed my hands into fists so strongly I pierced my flesh all the way to the very bones.

In-between his thrusts he mocked me, as if being closed in stocks and taking it up the ass wasn't humiliating enough for me. "...I love your fur. Those perky....unf....ears, fluffy tail-" A vigorous hump forced him to pause, and my breasts to jiggle against my chest. "And those cute paws...that soft muzzle. Ah...I love morphs..."

Again and again, his rigid length accommodated my walls for his size, and after long enough while, I started to feel fit for him. A little bitch that lived only to pucker her backdoor open and welcome him in, happy for the attention. I fought the thought as much as I could, but every slap of his fleshy balls against my moistening pussy erased my effort. Then, in the worst of it - as he was mindlessly rutting his whole length into my rubbed dry bottom - the door of my cell flew open and one angry she-wolf barged in.

Eyes squinting and chest puffing, her voice boomed deafeningly in the small cell. "You stupid fuck! Raping her? Really?"

Bosnar stopped mid-thrust, etching his fingers deep into my waist. "Oh come on. Why always just before I pop," he whined.

Lilith gesticulated furiously, the flocks of her raven-black hair flying in the air. "Don't make me discipline you. Withdraw that cock out of her." Flinching her wolf ears she hissed, "At once!"

"Mother! Stop belittling me!" Bosnar groaned.

'Mother?!' I completely forgot about the rippling agony in my backdoor, the pieces clicking in place. Who else could have told her about me, other than her own son that had taken advantage of me back in Krelholm? I looked up at Lilith from under my tear covered eyes, her muzzle wrinkling in anger.

Ignoring me, she kept screaming at her son. "Just great. I'm slowly preparing her to crack, and then - you idiot - walk in, and ruin it all!"

Bosnar's cock twitched in me, just as impatient as his owner. He sneered, "Stop pretending you had some master plan here."

Lilith sighed, resting her hands on hips. "Should have aborted you." Kicking the half broken chair in front of me, she sat on it and clasped my face firmly in her hands. Growling menacingly she said, "I want to see her squirm. Start fucking her."

My butt exploded in pain as Bosnar dragged his cock out to the tip, resting the crown in my trembling sphincter, before mind numbingly stuffing himself back in. A loud whimper escaped my lips, followed by several fresh drops of tears. I tried to turn away in shame, but Lilith held my face in place and grinned into my eyes.

"I'll ask you again. Who do you work for?"

I loudly cried, but mustered enough will to deny her. "...I suck cocks for gold." I meekly sobbed, feeling my mind spinning, and I shuddered at my own words. "I let males fuck me for gold... does it sound like I work for someone you cunt?!"

She gritted teeth, the sound at least a little satisfaction for me. "Great. Just Great. You should feel right at home then." Straightening from the chair she flinched my nose.

"You ruined it all again." She turned for the door, her boots clopping against the floor sharply. "Rape the bitch for all I care. Might knock some sense in her head."

The door slamming shut, Bosnar picked up pace, disgusting slaps of his waist against mine deafeningly loud in the small cell. I counted exactly ten thrusts before his meat swelled and jerked deep in my hurting tailhole, his warm liquid seeping into me. I heaved under the overwhelming cacophony of hopeless feelings cluttering my mind; I whined and cried as I felt his seed coating my silken walls, and once fully spent, the man withdrew, his burning hot cum spluttering down from my gaping, desecrated orifice.

Groaning in ecstasy Bosnar kneaded my ass cheeks fondly as if he hadn't raped me a mere moment ago, and desecrating me further, wiped his slimy cock into the black-reddish fur of my back. The raw pain in my butt subsided, but the blunt thumps of my heart pulsing in my sphincter remained. I clenched tightly, trying to keep his ejaculate from seeping through my anal ring and coating my vixen pussy, hoping that not as much as a drop could flow in-between my nether lips and possibly impregnate me.

Stroking my thighs the bastard ridiculed me, "Good vixen. I'll be seeing more of your ass later." At the vile tone of his voice my throat contracted and I almost hurled, a globule of bile coating my tongue.

Between coughs I cursed at him. "Bald skinned bastard-" I gagged, my throat too sore to comply. Coughing violently I wished upon the man the worst of punishments in my mind, my heart sore from the pure hatred I held for him.

"Always the proud warrior, huh?" Kneeling in front of me he stroked my nose, instinctively I tried to bite his digit but to no avail, he withdrew quick. "Don't hate me girl. Else the rest of your time here is going to be hell. Oh, and don't worry about the other dogs raping you. I have you all for myself."

The door softly closed and I finally opened my eyes into darkness, a fresh stream of tears running down my cheeks. I was too broken to as much as think, and only after who knows how long, I managed to calm a bit, and to heal the deep holes in my hands - that I had torn open with my very own claws. Only then I fully realized I had other spells too, how stupid I felt. Snapping my fingers sloppily the wick of the candle burst ablaze, it's light soothing me kindly. Time passed by at an unknown pace, my body cooling down after the appalling act of defilement, my mind cleared, and my erratic sobs vanished into nothingness.

But before I could fully relax, the door screeched open once more, and I fell back into despair. It was the horse, holding a plate with good smelling food; my nose tingled, my mouth watered and my stomach gurgled so loud it resembled a wild boar.

Smiling wide he said, "I have the promised food, prisoner."

I felt happy seeing him, in the dungeon he was the only person that hadn't hurt me directly and in my broken state of mind, I was thankful for that. Sitting down in front of my face he rested the plate in his lap, scooped up a big spoon of boiled potatoes and pressed them on my lips. I lapped up the contents impatiently, swallowing without even biting. The mix of spices, butter and potatoes graced my taste buds. I smacked my lips shamelessly, salivating profoundly over the divine tasting meal.

Stroking my muzzle as he spoonfed me another bite, he asked in a soothing tone, "Why had you risked that much? You seem like a good girl, why get involved with the captain."

Lost in the taste I responded without giving it the slightest thought. "I don't even know her. I'm not interested in the petty conflicts of the high politics."

Another spoon past my lips, I munched on the contents, the delicious smell dulling my senses. He inquired again, "What do you do? I mean, occupation... or the like."

I felt my lips curling in a smile on their own. "I'm a courtesan."

He lifted one eyebrow. "Not a very sought after job."

"That's because others don't have passion for it." I growled deeply, aroused. "I love it."

A soft chuckle seeped from his closed lips. "You love selling your body cheap?"

Despite my growing suspicion that he had put something in the food - or perhaps that I truly went mad - I gave the man the sincerest explanation of why I overwork my tail. "It is my joy to entice others, to captivate their every thought, their every stare. See their reaction to my beauty, not in mere words... but in their shallow breaths, their throbbing pillars of male need."

My tail wagged happily on its own, even through the injuries and pain of its strained root. "I scream in joy when they enter my body, feeling so proud they chose me. And I feel loved. Worshipped. Knowing it is my skill that drives them to ecstasy, I gladly take their seed, the manifestation of their love and lust. I embrace it, I take it for my own. I wear it proudly."

My pussy quivered in strong lust; my mind screamed stop, but my body did not listen. "And when I ask them to pay... They pay double. On their own. That, I love." I almost orgasmed from my speech alone, and feeling my nether lips tingling I whimpered, wanting a strong, virile male to fulfil my need.

"Wow." His eyes dreamily clouded. "Wish I had some gold on me." Rubbing fingers of his free hand he scooped more food and held it at the tip of my muzzle. "And what with the duke? You hoped to get a double from him? I imagine that would be quite the sum."

I slurped the food from the spoon and answered, "He wasn't of mine interest. I was paid to charm him and-" I stopped mid sentence, the realization hitting me with the force of an anvil dropped from the highest tower in Cyrila Capital. I puckered my lips, angry how easily the guy played me, and spat the potatoes mixed with my saliva all over his horse face. "You... Tricky bastard!"

He pierced me with an unblinking stare, his expression falling into an emotionless, disgusted smirk. "...you were eating from my hand like an obedient bitch." Stiffly getting up he dropped the tray on the floor, the plates and cutlery ringing across the stone as they flew away in random directions, and leaning over the table, he picked the metal pliers from the pile of tools. "But I really hoped you'd defy. Thanks."

I froze in fear as he roughly grabbed my index finger, trying to catch my claw in the jaws. I half retracted my claw desperately, just as he had said I'd do, but before he could tear it free, I outstretched my fingers and shot a wave of concentrated air at him, using my little battle spell. The blunt force yanked his head backwards and sent him stumbling into the reinforced door of my cell, where he crashed the back of his skull into them with such force they shook in their frame.

His body limply crumbled to the floor, limbs outstretched into far corners of the tiny cell. For several hours no one came; whether the man was dead or not I couldn't tell, as even if he was breathing, it was impossible to hear through the scared wheezes of mine. I was sure they'd kill me for what I had done. Eventually, with a mighty bellow, the horse-morph opened his eyes. I meekly yelped as he gazed square into my eyes, and him slowly standing up, his rage was very apparent to me.

With bulging eyes and nostrils stretched wide he wobbled next to me. I outstretched my fingers, trying to send him against the wall again, but before I could concentrate, he brutally slapped me across my face. I clenched in pain when his large, meaty hand hit me again and again, brutalizing me. Completely out of his mind he kept slapping me, and soon, the whole world of my tiny cell went dark.

From that point on, everything is a blur for me. As if trying to shelter me from the pain my mind closed shut, leaving only my body to withstand the cruel dominations. The horse morph showed up only once after, he tied me back to the ceiling by my tail, and then proceed to dump bucket after bucket of freezing, cold water all over me, taking extreme pleasure in 'cleaning' me as he put it.

Bosnar returned several times to have fun with me, bruising my ass further. On the most horrifying occasions, I even woke up with him spearing my depths open. But it was not long before he lost interest, and left me to rot alone. Unwanted. The constant ringing in my ears forbid me of any communication, and once Lilith realised I was simply too broken to even torture info out of, she decided to get rid of me.

Her final remark, I remember clearly. "She's too far gone. Time to free the cell and sell her." She chuckled deviously. "After all, she's been doing it to herself all her life."

Unknown Day April 830 / Cyrila Capital - Streets

The floor felt very unsteady as I woke up, finding my arms restrained in an unnatural position, as if my captors had chained me in a completely new, devious manner. Wobbling back and forth I held my eyes slightly open, the amount of pale blue light blinding me to no end; a chain rattled sharply when I covered my eyes with my hand. Very carefully looking through my fingers I eventually adapted to the blinding light. In front of me - taking all of my vision - were thick metal bars, and behind them, the slowly moving whiteness of the pale buildings, its rectangle windows reflecting moonlight as if the rays of the sun itself.

The chain rattled more profoundly as I squirmed in my place; I was tied to the floor by my ankles and wrists, cushioned on something that looked like a big, dark red pillow. Looking about the world blurred for me, and I was forced to close my eyes lest I risked emptying my stomach. Hearing soft clops and snorting of feral horses I mustered strength to take another look, finding dozen other nude prisoners with me, too chained to the floor of the wagon and with crude leather collars fastened at necks. While I was testing the chain holding me in place - strikingly decorated with gold details - a smooth skinned male leaned softly on me, his body trembling in the cold just like mine. I flinched at first, but feeling the soft warmth emanating from him, I leaned back against him and he gasped softly.

His voice was trembling, "Thank the gods. Everyone else pushed me off. You help me, I help you. Right?" I accepted his embrace, but otherwise kept silent.

'Don't let your dreams destroy you.' Amand's words ringed in my ears, and how mad I grew, repeating them for myself to no end. Then and there, I'd punch him in the muzzle so hard his braids would fly right off. Stupid wolf. I started crying anew, the desperation opening in me as if a funnel, a funnel that drove any hope away. For I, Marcella Gale, was to be sold a slave for some ill mannered noble, a simple plaything. Stripped of any will, of any thought...worthless.

The horses neighed as the whole wagon was forced to a halt, the reason unknown to me. The driver cursed aloud, hopped off, and I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the scene.

The driver, a surly fox morph clothed in colourless rag of a coat, barked at someone hidden in the shadows of an alley. "A raid? You should know better than to take which belongs to the king."

"The king?" A male voice responded from the shadows. "A human being belongs to the gods only, if anyone at all." The intonations, like the voice itself, felt very familiar.

"Shove off with your philosophies, or I carve your belly all over the stonework," the fox rasped.

The man stepped from the shadows, hidden under a black coat, wearing a short muzzled mask to cover his face. "Ha!" he taunted at the top of his lungs. "You heard him, men?"

At his cue countless crossbows pierced the shadows, the loaded bolts aiming down at the fox and the escort of guards the wagon had. But that was not the end, several dark silhouettes straightened on rooftops, aiming the loaded weapons down on the street, and with handful of windows flying open, metal tips of the bolts joined us in the moonlit night.

The driver squealed in surprise, taking few unsteady steps back. "What do you want..."

"Her." The stranger from the dark pointed at me. "And with all the documents."

"You- you cant be serious. The captain of the guard will fry my balls alive."

"And that's of my concern? But very well. What's her price?"

Stuttering, the fox tried to reply, "Five...Five thou- thousand." The man from the shadow was about to speak up when the fox quickly added. "But I was- Meant to make profit!"

I'd lie if I said I wasn't flattered by the price they gave me.

"Bargaining? I give you five thousand, you give me her and the paperwork. Signed and stamped." He gave his voice a malicious undertone. "The other choice being - of course - the crossbows."

"Fine. Fine!"

Both men walked in front of the wagon to sign the deal, the sights of the crossbows following them every step of the way. The human that had leaned against me eyed me over, breathing shallowly before asking in the direst tone of voice, "Please. Get me out too. I won't survive this."

I couldn't hope to say if I could, but looking at the shaking lump of a man, I deemed it necessary to comfort him. "I'll try."

The cage we were held in opened with a rattling of a key, the hinges screeching loud enough for my fox ears to fold. I hesitantly waited for the caped rescuer to climb aboard, unsure if to be relieved I'm being saved, or if to be worried I'm trading places with just another slaver. Once the masked man knelt before me to free me of my restraints, I eyed a small, pointy tail nervously twitching behind his back, and I breathed in his sweet, subtly spicy scent. It was Schimon.

I looked into his eyes, in the night a two black holes of the mask covering his lean face, and my eyes moistened up in sheer joy. Not ten minutes earlier I had everything for lost. Softly, I whispered right into his small ferret ear, "You came for me... after everything?"

His reply was muffled slightly by the mask, "Leave such petite flower for the brutes? Not if I can help it."

"And what about us?" The chained human whispered, but did so with such fervour that his voice came as a high pitched hiss.

Schimon stood still for a moment, his emotions unreadable under the mask, only his pointy brush was erratically swaying side to side. "I can't just let them go. Who knows if there is a hardened murderer among them."

'Like me?' I kept the thought for myself, thinking up one, lone possibility. "Can't we do something? The driver must have records of the slaves"

Done with the locks the duke groaned from under the mask, "We don't have time! I'm willing to risk my life for you, not them."

Holding me up he walked me to the edge of the wagon, but as dangerously as I wobbled, he gently lowered me back on the floor and jumped down. He struggled quite a bit, but eventually I found myself in his arms, being taken into safety.

With all my strength I clung onto him, my nude body bouncing wildly as fast as he walked into the dark alley and away. Stopping by one of his crossbow toting men he gave a sound order. "Check the driver's records and free the light criminals. Make haste, friend."

His man complied, taking a turn for the wagon. I closed my eyes, realizing I haven't truly slept in days, and as soft as Schimon's arms were, my head was growing increasingly heavy with each passing moment. Sharp clattering of a handle momentarily woke me up. The duke cushioned me on soft seat of his personal coach and covered my cold, aching body under a warm blanket, the pleasant fabric closely hugging my curves. Away from all danger Schimon removed his mask, his dark-blue eyes flashing vividly.

I could not find a reason why he'd want to rescue me; raising my voice in a silent, throaty moan, I had to ask. "Why save me? Do you want to mock me?"

"Not at all." He whispered gently. "You've given me something I've been looking for years..."

"What?"

The coach tugged sharply in its start, the destination, as I figured, the duke's castle.

Schimon fondly smiled, "Sleep well, wild blossom."

The weakness of my body overwhelmed me and I closed my eyes, rocked into sleep by rumbling of the coach driving along the smooth, stone roads. For the moment, I was safe, and unlike I expected, the dreams I had were calm.