Master's Betrayal
"Master?"
Karren took a nervous step back, trying to find a place to look at her master while avoiding his hungry stare and his crotch.
"Don't question orders, slave." The word hurt her. He always called her by her name, and always was polite, kind. He had never called her that before, never said worse than a gentle reminder. "Lick it!"
Karren shook her head, taking another step towards the door. "I... master, I..." she didn't know what she was trying to say, all the emotions trying to express themselves at once, fear, apprehension, disgust, disappointment, confusion. She thought of all the times she caught the young master staring at her, smiling, and then asking her for a cup of tea or some cheese and bread. She shuddered, the feeling of violation creeping over all her memories. She hadn't worked for him long, her previous master sold her when she was eight, only four years ago for more gambling money, but she had begun to think of the new master's son as a good friend, if not family â€" a cousin, or even an older brother. She could feel her lip tremble, and her eyes turn watery, and her tail fight with her skirt to tuck itself between her legs.
"What, you don't know how to do it? I saw you flirting with those boys. You're nothing but a slut. A slave and a slut." His cock twitched obscenely in his lap, his claws out and ripping into the cushioning of the chair's arms.
She sniffled and whined. "No... master, I've never..."
He growled, baring his teeth, then barked out, "NOW!"
She could feel a tear trickle down her cheek as she walked as slowly as she could towards the young master. Each step brought her closer to his angry stare and his member, so ridiculously pink and veined. Besides walking around a corner and seeing an old slave carelessly relieve himself, this was the first penis she had ever seen. Another tear dripped down her cheek.
As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to her knees. The young fox yelped and began crying in earnest, her sobs filling the dark room. A part of her knew her knees were going to hurt later, maybe even bruise, and she could feel shards of wood from the rough floor poke at her skin. If she was going to stay like this, she was going to get splinters. Her skirt was pinned under her knees, and she felt it strain and rip as she sat up straight, keeping her eyes on the floor.
He leaned over and pulled up chains from beside the chair. She hadn't seen those chains in four years. She shook her head and murmured, "nononono," as he forced her chin up and locked the
leash around her neck.
With a quick tug, she found her face in his crotch, nose to his member. "Lick it," he commanded. She sniffled, but obediently stuck her tiny tongue out and touched it to his shaft. It tasted like salty meat, and she suppressed the urge to retch. She looked up at him expectantly, eyes separated by his red shaft, unsure of what to do next. He tugged the chain again, then with one hand forcibly took hold of her fur and pushed her mouth against his cock. "Take it in your muzzle," he growled. A tear dripped into his crotch fur as she opened her mouth and took the shaft in, the tip resting against her tongue. It leaked something, salty and dense. She sobbed and sniffled again. With his hand still on the back of her head, he forced her down, his cock lancing down her muzzle and into the back of her throat. She choked and sputtered, trying to push against the chair and away, but her maw was firmly skewered on his shaft.
He delighted in watching her squirm, little hands on either side of the chair trying to push herself away. She started to gag, and her throat pulsed and constricted, effectively massaging his cock. He let her up for a brief gasp of air before forcing her down again, her little scream silenced by his dick.
Finally, he let her go, laughing heartlessly as she fell back, not expecting the sudden release. Chain still in hand, he pounced on her, pushing up her skirt and ripping the buttons off her blouse â€" she was sure the mistress was going to blame her for the damaged clothing. He pulled down her bloomers, and with no ceremony thrust his cock inside her. She let out a scream, and he clamped her muzzle shut. He could hear her still trying to scream as he bucked harshly in to her. She was remarkably tight, and he found it hard to push in to her because it was nearly dry. But the more he thrust in to her, the wetter she became, slimy and hot.
She cried, the pain almost too much to bear. She knew she felt something rip, and was certain she was bleeding, but she couldn't ask him to stop, couldn't tell him it hurt. She could barely breathe with his paw around her muzzle. He grumbled, "You're nothing better than a whore," and she cried harder, whimpering as he violently thrust into her virgin sex. Each movement felt like he was tearing her open. "You must love it, slut. Do you?" He let go of her muzzled, and she breathed in deep while she could, arms jittering, breath shuddering. "N-n-n," she tried.
"The proper answer is ‘yes master.' Now say it!"
"Y-y-y"
He thrust in to her harshly, his hips slapping against hers. "Yes, Master! SAY IT!" His breath
was hot in her face, his voice hurting her ears.
"Yes, Master," she sobbed, tears flowing freely.
"Tell me what you are." He was slobbering over her, drops of his spit spraying her face. "Say in your own words how much a whore you are."
"But I," she tried, but a growl from him silenced her. She whimpered meekly, each thrust from his shaft a new spark of pain and humiliation. "I... I am a whore," she snuffled, her nose running.
"Mm-master."
Content with that, he focused on pleasuring himself inside of her, grabbing her hips and forcing her down while he pushed in. She covered her muzzle as he relentlessly rutted her, crying and wishing it would end soon.
But it didn't. With no clock and the sun down, there was no way to tell how much time had passed, but she knew hours were passing while he fucked her mercilessly. She had hoped she would go numb, at the very least in her groin, but that was not to be, either. She could feel every thrust, and every bump and vein on his cock. She could feel each slobbery drop land on her face as he drooled over her, and his hot, disgusting breath dampen her fur as he panted laboriously.
After the longest time, he began to rut her deeply, the base of his shaft growing larger and larger as he grunted lower and lower. It stretched her, a new blossom of pain erupting. She squeaked â€" that was all the voice she had left in her â€" and mercifully blacked out.
When she woke again, he was still within her, his huge knot stuck inside her, his cock spewing liquid heat into her stomach. Great gouts of hot seed poured in to her belly. She felt as if she drank too much boiling water, and was going to vomit it all back up. She saw her master's face, his eyes clenched and teeth bared as he spasmed, jolting forwards, then slowly retreating, like the flow of the ocean. Each time, his knot pulled on her from the inside, her young labia being stretched to almost tearing and still not yielding enough to let him pull out. There was no need for him, to, though. He lay atop her, making it difficult for her to breathe as he let her warm tunnel squeeze his cock.
It was sunrise before his knot finally receded enough to let her free, the absence of his shaft allowing her to close her legs and breathe freely. She brought her knees to her flat chest and curled to them, shivering as a thick drip of his jizm slowly fell out of her abused puss and melt into the fur on her rump.
"Now get up," said the young master over his shoulder as he walked out the room. "You still have chores to do."
Karren couldn't walk right. It hurt to close her legs. She now knew how the riders felt as they walked, having been atop their horses for so long. While fetching some water from the well behind the shed, she hiked up her only other skirt, reached down her bloomers and gave herself a wipe. Her fingers came back tinted faintly with the red of her own blood, and smeared with drops of his seed that had yet to leave her.
She frowned and wiped the stains off on the grass, then hurried on with her choirs, keeping her head down, and dreading the moment when the young master called to see her privately again.