A Life Sentence

My heavy head spun as I strained to open my eyes, revealing a dark stone room. I strained to make out exactly where I was, but could only barely see dark iron bars a few feet in front of me. In a panic, I tried to stand up and escape, but my attempt was met with sharp pains in my wrists, ankles, and neck. My arms and legs were chained to a nearby wall with iron bindings, and a heavy metal collar bound my neck to a ring on the floor. To add to my surprise, I was completely naked, my body apparently shaved. I looked down to find a further surprise, my cock and balls were caged in some kind of metal contraption as well.

As my vision began to recover and my head slowly stopped spinning, I began to recall the situation that had led to my sudden and unfortunate imprisonment. I used to work on a small farm outside of the local castle, growing crops to feed the ruling Queen and her court. Starving, I had been secretly keeping a small amount of food for myself, but eventually the Queen's tax collectors uncovered my scheme and I found myself in front of the court. I was found guilty almost immediately and sentenced to death by poison in that very courtroom. They forced a concoction down my throat, and I had assumed my life was to end in that room. Clearly, this was not the case.

Whatever the court had drugged me with must have been a sedative, as I was apparently very much alive, outside of a splitting headache. I weakly moaned, and struggled against my bindings to no avail. What fate awaited me in this mysterious prison, and why did the court fake my death penalty? If only I could break free, perhaps I could find out, and even inform others of what was going on here. I pulled harder at the chains this time, and the loud ring of iron hitting stone echoed throughout the dank cell. Still, nothing changed, and in my extreme weakness perhaps my efforts would continue to prove futile. I tried my best to not consider this, and continued my vain struggle.

Before long, my racket seemed to attract some attention. Footsteps hit hard and angrily against the stone floor in the distance. I struggled further, my wrists and ankles burning as the hard unforgiving metal ground against my soft skin. I knew I had to escape before those footsteps reached me. My clanking grew louder, and my body cried out as I wrenched myself in every possible direction, but the chains held fast. The footsteps grew closer, and suddenly stopped.

I looked up, my eyes finally used to the darkness. Towering above me was a scowling woman, clad in heavy armor, and behind her a similarly upset man. The woman's long auburn hair flowed down the shoulders of her breastplate, adding a somewhat elegant aire to her otherwise powerful frame. The man was gruff, a bit overweight, and his short hair betrayed the story of a man who cared little for the rigors of maintaining appearances.

The woman took a step forward, and spoke.

"Silence," she commanded. "You are property of her majesty, the Queen, and no amount of foolish racket you make down here will change that."

The man remained behind her, seemingly bored.

"Property?" I asked, suddenly confused.

The question was met with a swift kick to my chest with the woman's metal boot. The chains rattled from the impact, still refusing to give up any ground.

"You do not speak unless you are commanded to do so," the woman ordered. "The Queen has claimed you as her permanent property restitution for stealing from her. Consider yourself lucky, you are worth far less than the food you stole."

I was shocked, and nearly spoke out to protest, the only thing stopping me being the throbbing pain in my chest, a reminder of the consequences of doing so.

The woman continued. "Your particular sentence is to be installed as a permanent service fixture in the castle. There is no commuting your sentence, and nobody you knew previously in your life will ever hear from you again. If the Queen deems it, you may be rotated to another position, but generally this unique sentence is unchanging."

The woman then nodded, and the man stepped forward, the previously unseen keys on his belt jingling. He bent over, and undid the bindings on my ankles and wrists. I breathed a sigh of release as my raw, aching appendages were finally able to breathe. My body, however, was still useless due to whatever they had drugged me with. I collapsed onto the floor, and the unknown man sighed in annoyance. Without hesitation, he grabbed me and threw me over his broad shoulders, and began to carry me out of the cell.

I considered trying to make another mistake, but I could barely muster the strength. I uselessly flailed briefly as the duo began to take me out of the dungeon, and up the stairs into the castle above. My injured chest ached with each step, further reminding me of the horrors of my predicament. I had no idea what it meant to be "installed as a fixture", and really, really did not want to find out. My eyes frantically scanned the stairwell for anything I could use to escape, but I found nothing but smooth stone as we continued our painful ascent.

Before long, the bare stone gave way to carpeting, torches, and various other decorations befitting an ornate castle. My eyes struggled to get used to the bright light as we entered a long, wide castle corridor. My captors seemed uninterested in me still, and we made our way down the hall towards our unknown destination. Various serving staff scurried by, paying me no attention, seemingly having seen this routine before. I tried to signal them with my eyes, hoping to trigger some form of pity or any other reaction, but none would even look at me, which I considered a bad sign.

The journey continued for a few more minutes, until we suddenly stopped in front of a fancy carved wooden door. I had never seen such an ornate door in my life as a farmer, and wondered if it would sell for more money than I would ever see in my life. My stomach dropped upon thinking about this, however, remembering that my life would likely never resume, at least in the way I had originally planned.

The woman stepped forward and used a key to unlock the door, opening it for the man carrying me. The room itself was far nicer than the prison cell, although it was not any larger. The floor was carpeted, and torches lit the walls. The damp, dank smell was also not present, which was a relief. My captor tossed me casually to the floor, and his compatriot stepped forward.

"This room is where you will be installed for use by the Queen and her guests," she began. "Any attempts at leaving will be punished severely by me personally."

I nodded, knowing better at this point than to speak.

"If you look around, the various implements of your service can be found," she continued. "You may not reject their use or deny any request made of you. Again, you are property of the Queen, and nothing more."

This statement confused me, so I began to look around, the metal collar on my neck still heavy and painful. Behind me was a throne with a slot for a person's head inside the seat. Various implements of torture, including crops, whips, gags, and phallic devices were hung across the walls. A small recessed drain area was also found in the corner of the room.

The woman shrugged, clearly uninterested in further explanation.

"As a knight, I'm a member of the court, and will likely return to make use of you shortly," she spoke. "For now, stay here and wait. Those who have need of your body will make use of it as they please."

Unceremoniously, the knight and the other man left the room, locking the door behind them. I looked down at myself, still in shock at the collar seemingly permanently affixed to my neck, and a similarly permanent cage around my cock. Granted, I never really had the opportunity to use it while farming all day, but I had at least held out hopes. Now, it seemed some form of blacksmith had permanently caged me. I tried briefly to remove it, but was met with only pain, so quickly stopped. Even if I made it out of here someday, I'd have to find someone capable of removing those odd bindings.

I gathered my strength and crawled up to the door. I groped around, but quickly realized there was no mechanism for opening it from this side of my posh prison. How did those two leave? I'd have to pay closer attention next time in order to plan my escape. I hobbled my way back to the center of the room, and sat back down, deciding it was time to rest and think, and hopefully figure something out. The lack of food and water in the room also concerned me, but there was little I could do regarding that for now.

My thoughts were soon interrupted by the door creaking open. A tall, heavyset regal-looking woman, perhaps in her fifties, waddled in, her thick robes flowing behind her. I looked up at her, examining her fancy thick hair bun stretching the flabby features of her face back slightly in a clear attempt at hiding her weight and age. She scowled down at me, clearly offended by the brief eye contact I had made.

"So, this is the new service fixture?" she asked, her question directed at nobody in particular. "Clearly it hasn't been trained yet. Must I, a lady of this court, truly do everything myself?"

She waddled over to the wall of implements, and grabbed a leather riding crop. Without a word, she dragged me over to the throne and sat down. As I was still incredibly weak, she easily lifted me and threw me across her lap, her flabby thighs flattening as I laid across her waist. Before I could even question what was going on, a loud "thwap!" rang out in the room, and my thin bare ass cheeks were on fire. She was hitting me with the crop, and doing so extremely hard.

While the first hit was more stunning than painful, the follow-ups were very much agony. My skin quickly became raw, and each hit hurt far more than the last. I cried out, but the fat middle-aged woman did not seem to regard me as a person. She continued, clearly sweating and panting from the exertion. I counted the strikes, and as she approached thirty, my vision began to blur, and tears began to drip from my eyes onto the carpet below. Still, she did not stop. At forty, I began to sob. At fifty, I began to cry and beg, but this only encouraged her.

The beating continued all the way up to one hundred strikes on each cheek of my ass. I found myself wondering if any skin was even left at this point. I was openly sobbing, and I could smell the sweat of the fat noble from the sheer exertion of this unexpected punishment. Just as suddenly as she started, however, she had stopped and quickly tossed me to the floor below the throne.

"When someone enters this room, you greet them on your hands and knees, kissing their feet," my tormenter said. "You then await their instructions. You do not make eye contact, you do not speak. You simply do as you are told."

I nodded, still sobbing, making sure not to look up at her.

The noble woman rose, straining as her stubby legs lifted her massive body from the odd throne. She took a few steps towards me, her luxurious robes flowing behind her, leaving her massive stomach and thighs exposed. I did my best not to look, not wanting to risk the wrath of the crop once again. She stopped inches from me, and sighed before grabbing my messy hair and pulling my face up and towards her.

The smell of sweat immediately assaulted my nostrils as I was brought close to the large noblewoman's exposed crotch. I winced in disgust, likely undetected as she would not be able to see my face this close to her. With one hand, I was forced into the damp, hairy space between her massive thighs, and with the other she lifted her substantial belly. Her legs parted slightly, and moments later my lips and nose had made their way through the tangle of pubic hair and were pressed against her vagina. She released her stomach, and it dropped over my head, effectively locking me in place.

"Open," she commanded. "This will be a common duty for you from now on, don't make a mess."

I did as I was told, steeling myself against the dank unwashed odor. I wasn't sure what she had in store for me, but I also didn't want to be caught disobeying again. Unfortunately, it only took a moment for my confusion to be remedied. A dribble of hot, bitter water splashed onto my tongue, and I immediately gagged and reflexively tried to pull away. The noblewoman's strong hand, combined with the pressure from her fat stomach, prevented my escape. Her grip tightened to the point where I could no longer breathe.

"If you can't be trusted to serve willingly, you will suffer," she barked, the anger in her voice quite clear.

The stream grew in intensity, and the stranger's piss began to fill my mouth. The taste was foul, salty, and had a hint of what almost seemed to be nuts. I struggled further, trying to find a way to breathe through my nose, but she wasn't relenting.

"You will either drown in my piss, or you'll do your job as a toilet," she commanded.

I couldn't believe this, would she really let me die over this? As if answering my thoughts, her grip tightened yet again. Not wanting to test her, I decided to swallow. My body rebelled, and every instinct tried to block my attempt, but I eventually overcame them and took a gulp. The hot liquid poured down my throat, and I could feel it settle in my very empty stomach. I gagged as my tears soaked the mass of pubic hair against my face, but the stream didn't relent. Again I was forced to swallow, and again. The piss was so forceful at this point that it hit the back of my throat, and moments between swallowing were brief. My stomach was irritated, full, and I could actually hear the foul liquid sloshing around in it.

My lungs began to burn, and I started to thrash as I swallowed. I could feel my eyes bulge, but there was no air to be found in my new horrendous prison. I coughed, gagged, and sputtered as my tongue burned from the salty concoction shooting out of this woman's urethra. Just as my vision started to blur, the stream finally grew weaker. One more swallow, and it finally had stopped. The grip on my head loosened, but only just enough for me to take one deep breath of the damp crotch of my tormentor. Moments later, to add insult to injury, she was using my face and tongue to wipe her up, covering me in her stink.

After my brief stint as toilet paper was complete, the noblewoman dropped me to the floor, and simply left the room without another word. I couldn't even muster the energy to look behind me and watch how she opened the door, I was still focused on catching my breath after that harrowing experience. My stomach felt like it was going to burst, and I let out a long burp that tasted entirely of piss. I still could smell her crotch, and my ass burned in pain from the beating she had given me earlier.

As my strength returned, I desperately eyed the room in search of something to wash myself with, or perhaps some water to get the taste out of my mouth. However, I quickly realized there truly was nothing, only implements of torture, the throne, and the drain in the corner. I fell onto my back, my vision spinning as I gazed idly at the ceiling. Was this really my life now? Would this horrible woman return? How would I eat, wash, and sleep in this cell? So many questions, and it seemed no answers were forthcoming.

It wasn't long before the door opened again. I quickly scrambled to the center of the room, and dropped to my hands and knees as I was taught earlier. I kept my head down, although I did my best to eye the door as it was opening. Some sort of locking mechanism slid up from the outside, and moments later the door swung open. Heavy footsteps entered, and I quickly recognized them as belonging to the strong guard who had carried me in here earlier. I couldn't look up at his face, but he was no longer in armor, and in his left hand he appeared to be carrying a bucket.

"Corner with the drain, now," he ordered, his voice bored.

I nodded, quickly scurrying over to the corner, remaining on my hands and knees.

"Filthy peasant..." he muttered, before dumping the entire contents of the bucket over me.

The water was freezing, and I cried out in shock and surprise as it hit me. After the initial stun of the cold wore off, I was honestly somewhat grateful, hopefully this would at least wash off some of the smell from earlier. As the water drained, I stayed as still as possible, shivering on the cold stone floor in the corner of the room.

"Now, thank me for cleaning you, peasant," the man ordered.

"T-thank you, Sir," I meekly stated, my voice quivering from the cold.

The man laughed.

"That's not how you thank your betters," he tutted as he spoke.

Before I could question him, I had my answer. His breeches were unbound, and quickly fell to the floor. Inches from my face was a semi-erect hairy cock, smelling of sweat from a long day in armor. The guard grabbed my chin, and forced my face under his cock, and rubbed me against his sweaty balls.

"You say thanks by pleasing, peasant, that's your job," he barked.

I couldn't believe what was happening. I had never felt any kind of interest in men, but I knew what would happen if I had disobeyed. In a way, this wasn't quite as disgusting as what the older noblewoman had put me through before. The guard grunted impatiently, and I felt his grip on my head tighten a bit. I apprehensively opened my mouth, and gave the thick, soft shaft a lick.

He let out a soft moan. "That's more like it."

Glad to at least no longer be the subject of his annoyance, I began to lick more aggressively, the flat part of my tongue sliding up and down his shaft. Slowly, the thick cock began to rise, and I could feel the blood pumping in it as the guard grew more excited.

"Suck it, slave," he commanded.

I obeyed. I opened my mouth wide, taking the large cock between my lips. I did my best not to let it touch my teeth, knowing this would almost certainly displease the man. I slid the cock into my mouth, making sure to rub it along my tongue. It grew harder and larger as I sucked, and my mouth filled with the taste of cock, sweat, and what I assumed was precum. I slid back and forth, taking the cock like I had imagined a dutiful wife would. I couldn't believe what I was doing, and honestly felt a deep shame at what was happening, but knew I could not stop.

As the guard grew harder, his moans and grunts grew more intense, and his grip on my head tightened. Suddenly, I was forced into his pelvis as he pressed my head hard against him. I let out a gag as my eyes widened, and the cock slid into my throat. He held me there for a few moments, likely feeling the throbbing and twitching of my throat on his shaft as it tried to reject him. His moans of pleasure indicated he enjoyed this deeply, and he yanked my head briefly back before slamming it against his pelvis yet again.

The pace of this facefucking intensified, and my mind raced in a panic. This man had no interest in my wellbeing, my mouth and throat were just there for his pleasure. My body largely went limp as he continued to use me as a fuck slave. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and saliva ran down my chin as my coughs, wretches, and gags intensified. I could feel the piss sloshing around in my stomach as he mandhandled me, and I wanted nothing more than for this misery to end. Sucking the cock tenderly was honestly not all that bad, but this was torturous.

I gasped and struggled for air as the cock slammed down my throat once more. This time, it stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. The guard let out a loud moan, and my eyes widened in fear at what I knew was happening next. I felt the thick cock convulse in my mouth, and it slid back just a bit so that the head was once again on my tongue. I took the brief moment to take a deep breath, but it was interrupted by a hot, sticky blast of cum hitting the roof of my mouth. The cock twitched, and another landed on my tongue, the sour taste adding to the mix of flavors already tormenting me.