Heavy, F, f, f+, M, M+, Fantasy, Bondage, Domination, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, Lingerie, Modification, Pain, Rape, Sadism, Submission, Non-Consensual

The personal slave chambers of Count Mevenmein were a place Eve usually tried to avoid. It was an open room on the second floor of the manor. Alcoves for her father’s preferred slaves lined two sides – each filled with cushions for the slaves to sleep on. Arched windows of stained glass lined the other two sides – depicting scenes of the three maidens and their three virtues: subservience, sensuality, and pain. By some strange magic or invention the windows didn’t seem to transfer heat, keeping the chambers warm and humid –almost sauna-like. Adding to the sauna feel was a heated bath. The bath dominated the center of the chamber, and a slave girl, her nude body glistening in the water, lounged in it. Flower petals floated on the water’s surface, and burning incense gave the whole room a heady, intoxicating smell. Combined with the heat and the damp, just walking in was enough to make Eve’s hips sway slightly and her skin start to sweat.

It was nicer – much nicer – than the quarters for the house slaves or the barns for the workers and pony girls. It was opulent compared to her own sparse accommodations. She always noticed the large down pillows that covered the slave’s alcoves, and felt a tinge of envy when she thought of her own thin straw mat on a stone floor. Her feelings were slightly stronger than envy when she looked at the beautiful stained-glass windows that glowed  yellow and red when the light struck them, and compared them to her small, open portal that howled when the wind blew, and let in the winter’s chill.

All three of her father’s favorite slaves were there, and there was a sharp contrast between her and them. She now wore her ‘normal’ clothing:  sandals and an off-white, thin tabard that tapered to a point just above her knees. It was thin enough to fit between her breasts, and her vagina and bottom could clearly be seen from the sides, but wearing something made her feel better than wearing nothing at all. She had also replaced the black bow tied around her neck, unsure of when it had come loose. Beyond that, she wore no jewelry or piercings.

Her father’s slaves were, in contrast, both more and less dressed. Their clothing was sheer – hiding nothing. The only true ‘clothing’ on them were the high heels they all wore – even the ones in the pool. The difference came in the jewelry. All of them were decorated with piercings, jewels, and thin chains that rested on breasts or hips or wrapped around their limbs. Everything was gold, silver, and sparkling gems. Eve couldn’t help but find it striking and alluring, even as another part of her thought about how difficult it would be to run with jewel crusted piercings hanging from her tits.

She recognized them all. The brunette sleeping in the alcove was Cock Kitten – a curvaceous, timid slave her father had favored for years. One of the three in the pool was a redhead named Eager Hump. Though Eve knew her better by her nickname: ‘Little Eve.’ A name the house slaves called her when their master wasn’t around. Her father had only had the girl for a little over a year, but there was a salacious rumor that he favored her because of her similar appearance to Eve. The slave girl was much shorter, had long hair, and was nowhere near as muscular as the pureborn. But, despite all that the similarity was undeniable. They shared the same striking red hair and bright green eyes, the same strong cheekbones. Even their noses had a similar slant.  Of course, Eve didn’t believe the rumors that her father had chosen the girl because of the similarity. And even if she did, she had never been overly cruel to her. Sure, she had whipped her once or twice for minor offenses, and maybe she had volunteered the young slave to assist the men on a hunt or serve drinks in their chambers. But, there was no reason for her to keep nervously glancing at Eve out of the corner of her eye.

Finally, there was the blonde. Cum Puppy was her father’s favorite, and every woman in the manor knew it. She had golden hair that curled at the ends and hung seductively over bright blue eyes. Her breasts were firm and large with a slight upward slant, all over a thin waist and plump butt. More than her physical appearance though, every move she made seemed to tease sex. Her hips swayed as she walked, and she had a way of leaning close and staring up at people when they spoke to her. There were all sorts of rules that were beaten into slave girls – walking on tiptoes, bending their shoulders back to thrust out their chest, arching their back when they bent or crawled. Whenever Eve saw Cum Puppy, she knew the rules were there to get them to emulate what she did naturally. 

“Oh,” Cum Puppy said, putting her fingers to her lips. “Eve, how good to see you. Though I am a bit surprised to see you walking. We all heard about what happened in the courtyard. How many men was that? Ten, twenty? It must have been so painful.”

Eve ignored her. Looking at Eager Hump, she said, “Cunt, my father prepared an attire for me. Where is it.”

“I – I don’t – ” she stammered.

“Eve,” Cum Puppy cried in a high pitched whine as she walked over to her. “Don’t be so cruel to poor Eager Hump. This cunt was put in charge of preparing you.” As she said ‘this cunt’ she ran her hands down her body, as if indicating what an honor it was to have ‘this cunt’ do anything for her.  She smiled up at the pureborn, her tall, platform heels making her head level with Eve’s tits. “Master actually asked me to add a bit to the attire. This cunt has a few idea.” She smiled wickedly. “Some more painful than others.” She paused, looking Eve up and down. “Kiss me,” she ordered. The customary way for slaves of equal standing to greet each other. 

Eve slapped her. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough shock her. Before she recovered, Eve bent down, and grabbed a bundle of her gold hair. She considered pushing the slave’s lips down to her lower lips, making Cum Puppy kiss her there, the way a slave of lower standing was supposed to greet a slave of higher standing. That would be much worse than a simple slap though, and she decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead, she pulled the slave up and kissed her, forcing her tongue into the slave’s mouth as Eve tried to emulate the forceful, aggressive kiss men usually used on her.

Eve let her go, and Cum Puppy stepped back, rubbing her cheek. Eve wanted her to get mad, maybe even run to their master to tell on her. The odds were fifty/fifty that he would punish Eve versus being mad at Cum Puppy for wasting his time. Unfortunately, Cum Puppy gave a mock sigh and looked at Eve pityingly.

“Poor master. It must be so hard to find a buyer for a cunt that can’t even remember she has a hole between her legs. Especially when she looks more like a fleshy tree than something anyone would want to fuck.”

“You bitch,” Eve said, taking a step towards her.

But she was already moving away, surprisingly fast on her platform heels. Her large breasts bouncing side to side as she moved towards a side room, presumably to ready whatever torture instruments she had prepared for Eve.

“Stupid cunt,” Eve muttered as she turned. She almost tripped over the kneeling form of Cock Kitten. The brunette was on her knees head bowed.

“Good afternoon mistress,” the brunette said. She leaned forward and brushed Eve’s tunic aside with her nose, kissing her directly on her pussy. She thought, just for a moment, that the slave lingered there just a bit too long, but just as she noticed it the slave was down and bowing again.

“You can stand, Cock Kitten,” Eve said. “I’m not your master. I’ve told you before not to act so formal with me.”

“Yes Mistress,” she said as she moved to her feet. She said, “Cum Puppy, Eager Hump, and myself were ordered to present you for tonight. You are to be bestowed upon Master Moldred.”

“So I heard,” Eve groaned. “I take it Cum Puppy was ordered to pick out the attire though?”

“She will pick something pleasing to the master’s eye. She knows all of us will be punished if we fail.”

“I’m not worried about how it looks. I’m worried about whether I’ll be able to walk tomorrow after wearing what that bitch picks for me.”

They both smiled at the comment, though they also knew it might not be too far from reality.

“You know,” Cock Kitten whispered, leaning closer to Eve. “Cum Puppy’s actually a bit on edge. Master has been favoring Eager Hump for his bed lately. I think she’s jealous.”

“You’re not going to start on this ‘Little Eve’ rumor, right?  Just the idea of it makes me skin crawl.”

They both glanced at the redhead. She was busy drying off, and deliberately not looking at Eve.

“No, no. It’s just, Cum Puppy’s been the favorite for so long. I don’t think she knows what to do when she’s just another cunt.”

“Good riddance,” Eve whispered. “Maybe father will finally take my advice and turn her into a toilet for the stable boys.”

They both giggled.

“By the way,” Eve said, still laughing slightly. “You were in the carriage with my father earlier today, right?”

The brunette averted her eyes at the question, though Eve didn’t know why. “Yes miss,” she answered.

“Who was that woman with him?”

“This cunt does not know,” she answered. Her eyes were back on the ground, and she was speaking in the careful, humble tones of a good slave.

Eve raised an eyebrow. “But you were there. Did they talk?”

Again, a nervous shuffle. “Thi – this cunt is sorry miss. Something about taking someone. One of the other slaves? I’m sorry miss. It was all over this cunt’s head.”

“Literally,” Eve joked, not sure what was behind the change in Cock Kitten’s demeanor.

But Cock Kitten looked up at Eve with what almost seemed like fear.

Eve clarified, “Because you were on your knees. Get it? It was a joke.”

“Oh, of course.” She smiled, but Eve could tell it was forced, and her mind was elsewhere.

Before she could inquire further, Cum Puppy’s voice called out in a mocking tone “Mistress, this cunt has returned with your attire for the night.” She walked in carrying a lead for a crawling slave girl. On the girl’s back was a gold chest. Cum Puppy led the girl over to Eve, as Cock Kitten and Eager Hump walked over and knelt beside her. “Behold,” she said, throwing the chest open.

Eve looked inside, and groaned.


Moldred stifled a yawn. The potion had left him exhausted, but also Mevenmein’s feast was a bore. It was the standard affair. The count sat on a raised dais, overlooking the hall. Two slave girls crawled around him – a redhead on his cock while a blonde sat on one arm of his chair with her legs around him, alternating between feeding him and kissing his neck and ear. The man looked haunted, and did his best not to glance at the knights.

Moldred’s arrival had been disappointingly uneventful. The sun was starting to set when they finally entered the manor, and the Count was already waiting for them. Three knights in full armor on horseback were impressive, though slightly less impressive than a few hundred slave girls and men-at-arms all standing at attention behind you. Their criers had both called out their titles and the terms of the duel, and then Mevenmein had invited them in for a feast. No surprise announcement of a hidden champion. No begging for mercy. Just bland formality.

Mevenmein’s men occupied most of the hall, drinking and eating at long tables, they harassed the nude serving girls, sometimes taking them to the ground and fucking them to wild applause. In the center of the hall thirty or so slave women knelt on their knees with a round platform on their backs. The bottom of the stone platform was covered with spikes and small rivulets of blood dripped down from the girls. On the platform were two planks of wood in an X shape. Slaves were strapped to it, and whipped, beaten, or fucked by dominas with pointed steel strap-ons. Currently, one of the dominas was now on the x-shaped cross, and her bare breasts were being swatted with stinging nettles. She screamed and cried, to the delight of the men on the floor. As she struggled against the blows, the platform she was on shook, further tormenting the slaves that held it up.

Moldred stifled another yawn. This was nothing he hadn’t seen before. The food was fine. The women were fine. It was all fine, if a bit prosaic.

A slave girl knelt between his knees, keeping him hard but not much else. Gash knelt beside him, and he kept himself occupied by tormenting her. He would place a bit of food on her nose and make her hold it there. Or have her chew a bite, hold it in her mouth without swallowing, then have her deposit it into the mouth of a passing serving girl. After the second time she did this, she was shaking with hunger.

Gastogne and Aloric sat on opposite sides of him. Aloric seemed to be enjoying himself. A cute little slave girl was riding on his lap, bouncing on his dick as she balanced a plate on her breasts and fed him from it. Gastogne, on the other hand, kept yelling for more wine or beer. When the poor girl brought it over, he would slap and squeeze her tits or face for taking too long.

Moldred occupied his time by looking around the room, trying to guess who the Count’s champion would be. He was unimpressed with the options. The count was a serious looking man. A bit tubby though. He likely balanced his books and paid his tithes, but he was no warrior. Next to him sat a slightly more impressive looking man. Tall, powerfully built, but he had no slaves on him, and barely glanced at them as they passed. Moldred dismissed him. He looked a warrior, but there was no fire in his blood.

Also at the table with the Count were a few older, advisor looking types, whom Moldred ignored. At the far ends of the table were two younger men who Moldred guessed were the Count’s sons. One was Obese, with a large gut that hung over the top of the two slaves between his legs. He had a gaggle of slaves on him, and they all alternated pleasuring him and feeding him. Moldred considered leaning over to Aloric and making a joke comparing him to the man, but decided against it. Aloric would forgive him for comparing him to a woman, but he worried he might actually insult the knight if he compared him to such a pathetic specimen of a man.

At the other end of the table was a pencil thin, brooding youth. He had a single raven-haired slave who sat on his knee, and was, disgustingly, sharing his food. He could see them speaking with each other, and there was almost no sign of subservience in the woman. Moldred wanted to walk over and slap him. There was no greater sign of weakness in a man than not controlling his cunts. He considered asking Gash if there was a way to force the Count to make one of his sons fight the duel in his stead. But, as he looked down at her he was distracted by her pleading, hunger-filled eyes.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded. She did, sticking her tongue out. Moldred picked off a piece of the gristle from his steak, and held it so she could see it. He rubbed it on her tongue, the juices of the fat mixing with her saliva. Then, he hit the slave between his knees on her cheek. “Open up cunt,” he ordered. She obeyed, and he placed the gristle he had been rubbing on Gash’s tongue into the slave’s mouth.

“Thank you master,” she said, slowly chewing the morsel, savoring it.

Moldred tapped his thigh, a signal for her to continue sucking. She swallowed her food, looking slightly remorseful she didn’t get to savor it longer, then put her lips back around his cock. He looked back at Gash. Her tongue was still out, and he could see a hint of tears in her eyes. He picked up a piece of meat, and placed it on her nose, under her eyes. “Hold it,” he commanded, turning back to look over the hall.

The rest of the count’s men weren’t much better. A few struck Moldred as somewhat capable, there was a particularly large fellow with a face like an ogre that stood out, but ultimately none of them were knights. There were rules to be followed whenever a knight fought a non-knight in a duel. Knights’ couldn’t use the strength or durability granted by their crest. But, crests gave more than that, if you knew how to use them, and even with those limitations there was no one that made him worry. Moldred could tell a true warrior just by sight. The Count’s men looked more like well-paid bandits than soldiers.

As the servants took away the third course Count Mevenmein stood up. The slave that had been lapping at his cock knelt under him, and he stepped up onto her back to elevate himself. The hall quieted as he began to speak. The women all fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the ground.

“Subjects and honored guests,” he said, raising a glass. “A toast to our King and Lord, the First True Man, Alwynn!”

They all drank.  A few of the men cheered. He heard a few muffled cries of pain as every slave hurt themselves in some way, as they were required to do when the king’s name was uttered. At his feet, he saw Gash dig her nails into her thigh so deep they drew blood.

The count finished his drink, and picked up another. “And another toast, to our guest. Though tomorrow he will fight our champion, tonight he dines with us. To Sir Moldred of House Gavain!”

The cheers were more perfunctory this time, and mostly came from the advisor-looking types at the high table, but almost everyone still drank. He did notice the large, ugly man pointedly leaving his cup on the table.

The king finished this cup too. “Finally,” he began, “never let it be said that House Mevenmein does not respect their guests. As is tradition, I now present a pureborn to Sir Moldred, his to keep, so long as he is within these walls.”

Moldred tried to look grateful, but settled on stoic. This was common practice, and rarely worthwhile. Some homely pureborn he would throw in a closet and ignore until he left. Maybe fuck her once or twice out of courtesy.

And then the doors at the end of the hall opened, and in walked the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.


As the doors opened Eve tried to smile, but settled on a blank, subservient expression. Cock Kitten led Eve into the crowded dining hall by a lead around her neck. The collar Cum Puppy had picked out was, unsurprisingly, pretty, but painful. A series of gold, interlocking hoops, the hoops were lined with spikes that pierced and scratched her neck whenever she moved or the lead grew too taught. Thin, gold chains draped her body, crossing over her arms, legs, and under her breasts like a harness. Another thin, gold chain ran behind her ears and rested on her nose. Oil had been rubbed all over her skin, with particular attention paid to her breast, and she shined in the light of the candelabras overhead. Her makeup was immaculate. Her lips painted a bright red, and a thin line of mascara highlighted her emerald eyes. Any tangles in her hair from her earlier gangbang had been removed, and her shoulder-length red hair now shined a vibrant crimson. When she had looked in the mirror, she had been forced to admit her father’s slaves had done a better job she ever could have.

It was not all good though. Her arms were painfully locked behind her back at the elbows and wrists. Worse, Cum Puppy had reopened Eve’s piercings, and large, gold hoop earrings hung from both her ears, and her nose.  They were large enough she could have fit both hands through with room to spare, and they were heavy enough to be painful. A matching pair with bells attached to them weighed down her nipples. The bells chiming as she walked.

And walking was the hardest part. Her ‘heels’ were a large spike that pointed up at the back of Eve’s foot. If she leaned back even slightly she could feel them there, ready to pierce her if she lost her balance or her strained calves grew tired. They were curved at their base, moving back up to lock around her ankles. The shackles had bells on them as well, and they joined with the sound of the ones on the piercings hanging from her nipples.

The spike-heels were the worst, but a close second were the dildos. They were four fingers thick and covered in bumps along their metal surfaces. The one in her ass was flared at the base to keep it in, and the one in her cunt had a clamp that bit down on her clitoris too keep it in place. Finally, to complete the ensemble, Cum Puppy had placed a ring gag in her mouth. Another large, golden ring, it kept her mouth open painfully wide, and her jaw ached as drool dribbled down her chin and chest.

As she entered the hall a few of the men-at-arms jeered and whistled. She kept her head on the floor, partially because some of them were the ones who had raped her earlier in the day, partially to make sure she didn’t trip on anything. She did glance up at her father’s table at the head of the room. He sat next to Vassimir, leaning over to talk to him as Cum Puppy and Eager Hump pleasured him. Both men looked at her occasionally, but they mostly seemed to be lost in their conversation. She saw two of her brothers at the far ends of the table. Saul, who mostly oversaw her father’s fields and farms, was a fat lump surrounded by his slaves. Lopen sat at the opposite end. A self-described ‘poet’ He had a single slave whom he treated so well even Eve thought it scandalous. Briefly, she wondered what her third brother, Calidor, was doing. He was the oldest, and the least useless of the trio, and had been sent to the king as an envoy. As she started to fall behind and Cock Kitten tugged at Eve’s collar, causing the spikes to drive into the back of her neck, Eve decided he was likely fucking the king’s slaves, and not actually doing his job. Otherwise, this duel never would have happened.

They crossed the hall until she stood before the table where the knights sat. Sir Moldred of house Gyvain sat flanked by two other knights. She had heard her father speak about them before, but didn’t know if the fair-faced ginger was the lowborn Sir Gastogne, or Sir Aloric of house Vyair. She had no doubt about which one was Moldred.

She saw him through stolen glances as Cock Kitten walked her around to the man she was to spend the night with. He was a large man, as big as Ben or Vassimir. But Vassimir was old, and had skin like jerky, and Ben had as much fat as muscle. Moldred was fit. There was a tapestry in the library which she had often looked at. It depicted a battle which her great-great-grandfather had supposedly fought in. On it were hundreds of men on horseback and foot, fighting with spears and swords. In the center of the melee was a single knight – armor shining, sword and shield in hand, his crest glowing on his breastplate. In the tapestry the knight was smaller than her hand, yet she could picture him perfectly. He was what a knight looked like. A true knight. Moldred, with his long blonde hair and statuesque form, was that knight.

Cock Kitten lowered herself to her knees, bent her head to Moldred, and held Eve’s lead out to him with both hands. She started to say, “To Sir Moldred of house Gyvain, this cunt presents – ” but before she could finish Moldred was up. He slapped her out the way, knocking her to the ground, as he snatched Eve’s lead. He pulled it, hard, and as the spikes of her collar pierced her skin she fell towards him.

He caught her. He held her to his chest, arm wrapped around her and holding a handful of her hair at the back of her head. She realized that, even though she was forced onto tiptoes from the spike-heels, he was slightly taller than her.

He reached around behind her head, and with a single pull, yanked off the ring gag that held her mouth open. “Speak your name, cunt,” he ordered, tossing the gag to the ground.

“Eve,” she whispered, her jaw still aching. His eyes were a deep brown, and he stared at her the way a man lost in a desert stares at water.

He squeezed her hair and pulled her into him, forcing her into a kiss. She realized, as his strong form wrapped around her, that the kiss she had given Cum Puppy was a pale imitation of what he was doing to her now. As his tongue entered her mouth, he seemed to suck the strength from her. Once he was through, he pulled her away from him, and she was left breathless.

“Crawl,” he ordered.

She fell to her knees. Her feet were bent painfully to avoid the spikes, and the chains around her legs pressed into her skin, but her mind was blank to the pain and everything else. He tugged at her collar, and she followed.

Vaguely, she was aware of the other people in the hall watching her as she followed him out the door. She glimpsed a slave girl following them as she tried crawl fast enough to keep up with his long strides. But none of this registered in her mind. All she could think about was the pounding in her chest. And her fear. And her excitement. The door shut behind them, and Moldred led her to his chambers.


At the high table, Count Mevenmein watched as Moldred led his daughter out of the hall. He turned to Vassimir. “Prepare the Crest. The duel will be tomorrow at noon.” He glanced back at the door Moldred had left through. “We’ll need her ready before then.”

And in a dark corner of the hall, a short, pale woman stood hidden from view. She watched them, all of them, a smile playing across her lips.

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Luke Blanc on 2022-02-28 01:58:03Z
Great description of Eve entering the room,  easy to picture the beautiful scene.