Her Claim to a Slave

"Now... This is for me, not for you. After all, these ladies deserve a show."

Aquilan's brow would have furrowed if he wasn't sweating so profusely, chest rising and falling sharply with each and every pant. He needed more, wanted something, twisting and rocking to the limit of his range of motion as her paw grasped his cock. He could not help but grow hard for her in an instant, despite the rise of pain across his buttocks and the backs of his thighs where the whip had struck, moaning into the gag while he saw nothing. Maybe that was right for him though, he thought as he drifted down and down into that soft and warm space of submission where everything was okay. Maybe he didn't need to see. As long as his body pleased Sairsyn, there was little else that mattered.

Yet he didn't expect the rush of pleasure as her pussy slid over his cock, his shaft lubricated with something that tingled strangely. It was not until it was too late that he realised what she had rubbed into his cock, dulling sensation -- yet not depleting it enough that he could not feel her hot tightness and all the promise it could have held if he was allowed to thrust. He thrust only a little, rocking and pulling at his bondage, though he didn't care about the strain anymore as she rolled her hips back at him, tail casually thrown up over his shoulder with blood trickling into the feathers.

The pain rooted him in the moment, kept him from fading away entirely. And that was right where he needed to be, moaning into the gag and wanting more, his cock numbed-up and yet still hard, buried up into the pussy of a dragoness who made his heart pound so very desperately. He tried to thrust, tried to get a little more sensation, the posts creaking, yet he could not stop himself as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a little warning that, even then, he could not heed. Despite his training, he was still not perfect as a slave.

His mistress slowed.

"Fix his leg, Hareema."

Dimly, he was aware of Sairsyn giving someone an instruction, the rocking of his hips continuing, yet he was not able to continue doing even that as one of his ankles was untied without any warning from the wooden pillar. Tottering, he tried to squawk, chomping on the gag, shuddering in place and suppressing the urge to look around, the posture collar restricting even that. Yet the dragoness did not want him to be able to thrust even that much as his right leg was yanked up and deftly bent, bound to itself with the ankle pressed up to his buttock.

Aquilan huffed and puffed, yet it had the desired effect of ensuring that he could not thrust, the strain in the front of his quad making things all the more difficult. Balance was the name of the gain and yet there was pleasure too, pushing through from his cock, a delicious juxtaposition to the burning pain, a reminder of his place. And just how could he ever forget his place as he groaned and shuddered right where he was? Sairsyn cried out her orgasm and he wondered, belatedly, how much she had disrobed, though even that delight had been taken from him with the luxury of the hood.

But...that wasn't for a slave. Everything there, everything he was doing, was for her. She moaned out through another orgasm, his hard prick grinding up against just the right spots inside her, though that was more the angle of her hips than anything else. He was merely there to provide the living sex toy as he slipped down deeper and deeper into submission, stilling, focusing on bracing. That was all he had to do, all he had to worry about, putting himself in the best position to let her take a third and fourth orgasm from him, her juices dripping down his cock.

"Good..."

His heart surged. He'd done good? He'd been a good slave for her? The eagle chomped eagerly at his gag, trembling in place as her pussy slid off his cock.

Everything happened quickly then, the hood and the gag removed, the eagle stripped down to his feathers of every bondage item expect from the rope harness, which was far too easy for Sairsyn to grab and toss him about. Huffing as he landed heavily on the stage, Aquilan bowed his head down, trembling, putting himself in the best place for her.

Please, touch me again...

Oh, he hadn't thought like that when he'd first met Sairsyn but, oh... Oh, things had changed. He'd been denied, that cream that she'd massaged into his cock doing the trick of forcing him to hold off his orgasm, broken down into a fragment of who he had once been. Yet he was a better version of that even as his nearly nude mistress, having dropped her ceremonial armour for a blissfully decorative under-bust corset. He'd caught a glimpse of that, the intricate silver thread, how it had framed her breasts so wonderfully, the ache in him for them growing more and more with every passing second.

But he was a good slave, an obedient slave, blood drying on his neck from where she'd bitten him, the burning from the whip and the welts left behind from the vicious implement. He would stay there, stay down, do everything that she wanted him to. He just needed to be there for her, desiring her, beak opening and closing as he held back the words, wanting to beg for her, her touch, yet so far down that he knew he could not talk without her permission. And it was always going to be Sairsyn's needs that can first.

Always.

Maybe that's why she chose him.

"Now, slave..." Sairsyn growled, pressing his beak down into the stage while the audience cat-called, wanting the main event. "Pledge yourself to me. In your words. Make them..." Her eyes glittered with the hint of a smirk. "Make them interesting, slave... Interesting."

He worked his beak, licking the edge. Did he have the words for something so grand? Dimly, his old life and the lure of it pushed at the back of his mind but he could not go there, could not imagine it, the scent of her thick in his nares. There was only one thing that he could do.

"Mistress..." He fumbled for the words, lifting his head only enough so that he could talk as she stepped back. "Everything I am, I give to you, I surrender to you. I have nothing, am nothing, and pledge myself to your service forever. There is nothing else left in life for me than you and I no longer crave to be anywhere else. There is no life where you are not and I wish to serve you until the end of my days."

Was that enough? Oh, he so very much hoped that it would be enough, grunting in the back of his throat, trying to clear it, trying to fish up more and more words for something that he could not have said that he was entirely prepared for. But it was not his place to be warned and prepared for what his mistress had in mind, only on him to scramble to catch up, body aching, mind awhirl with the possibilities, idea after idea racing through.

His mistress shook her head, her shadow falling over him as the flames burning in the torches crackled and spat, eating up the oil. Aquilan held his breath. He could only wait, wait and hope, hope and wait. His fate was up to Mistress Sairsyn, the dragoness whose name he would never say bout would forever know. A slave, after all, never got the right to speak the name of a mistress allowed and, finally, he was okay with that. It was alright as long as he would forever remain under her firmly dominating foot.

"Very good, slave... I knew there was promise in you."

And then her paws were on him again, undressing him in his bondage, a knife flashing under the rope, undoing her work in a flurry of frayed strands. It was a shame to see it flutter down and fall, though it was a clean feeling, one that lightened him and lifted him where there may not have otherwise been any escape for him. The only escape he wanted was to flee to her feet, to throw himself down before her, aching for her touch, to deliver his services unto her. It was not all sexual, remembering the many meetings he had sat on the floor beside her during, the meals that he had waited on her paw and foot at, how he had ensured that her chambers were always set up just as she liked them. As there was much more to Aquilan than being a slave, there was so much more to Sairsyn too and it was quite likely too that he was one of very few who knew Sairsyn, her intimate likes and dislikes, so very well.

The dragoness' lips curved into a smile, jaws parted, hogtying him swiftly, the flexibility in his shoulders allowing him to stretch back behind him, looped to his ankles. They were bound back against his hamstrings, heels floating above his buttocks, a position that took a great deal of flexibility and strength, which went hand in hand more than most understood. His wings were folded in sleeves too down the length of his arms just to make sure there was no chance of him using them to wriggle free, dumped ceremoniously at the front of the stage with her tail idly toying under his tail.

Aquilan groaned, something hissing, something burning. His head swum but it was hard to think about just what that sound and smell was all about when her tail eased under his, callously penetrating him without asking permission. It was never asked for, not from a slave, and he was there only to whimper and moan for her, trying to rock his hips back but only just about succeeding in pressing them down against the stage. The dragons screamed something out, stamping and hollering, yet there was hunger and excitement in them too that some part of him longed to feed, a deeply-rooted desire that he knew that he, as a slave, could satisfy.

Every last one of them, he thought dimly. He could be what every dragoness needed him to be, taking his place at the foot of them all. Yet it was Sairsyn first and foremost, his mistress for life, that he would, doing her bidding and serving her needs, however those came to play out.

Her tail drove deep, penetrating him, though it was quite as if she was not even focusing on that part of his abuse, humiliating him with how "loose" he was, though, of course, he was as tight as ever. It was just the appearance of how relaxed he was for her, how easily he even allowed her tail in, the tapered tip smoothly rounded and easy to take, pushing up against his prostate as his cock ached and drooled pre-cum.

He wouldn't get off easily, no... No, not in such a position. But that was alright, even as something hot burned through the air, his beak tipping as if to try to follow the sense of it. What was it? He barely looked up, eyelids half-lowered, his tail-feathers fanning and fluttering, though that was just why her tail was there, shoving his feathers up and out of the way as something, he did not know what, moved closer...and closer.

Maybe he would have fought through instinct alone if he'd known what it was but it was too late as the brand pressed to his feathers, searing through, burning and killing the feathers where they were, flesh sizzling as he cried out. His shriek was overruled by the triumphant howls of the dragons, exulting in the debasing of a slave, bringing a slave down to such a peak of obedience that he was deemed fit to be branded, an honour for any slave. The pain was immense, laid as if lovingly over a spot that bore not a welt, and he tried to clamp his tail-feathers down even as she forced him to climax through the pain. Her tail thrust and thrust, the dextrous tip curling up against his prostate to milk him and milk him, though there was no relief from the orgasm.

"Good, slave..."

And then the pain was gone, left heaving and panting and sweating where he was, the scent of singed feathers and flesh lingering in the air even as the brand clattered and was set aside. It was over, it was all over, and his fate was sealed, the dragoness hauling him up, suspending him in the hogtie between the pillars, her bondage already set up so that a couple of loops of a harness could easily be tugged into place to just let him hover there. Yet the majesty of an eagle in flight no longer existed for him, reminiscent of his early days of bondage, the pledge as soft on his lips as the brand was harsh on his hip.

"Everyone will know you are mine now, slave."

That was what he wanted, all that he wanted, eyes downcast, his body hers to do with as she willed. Yet the ceremony was not yet over, more at play, her pleasure and sealing of her position remaining in the pure celebration of it all.

The dragoness smirked, flames glittering off her scales, a goddess of beauty that he would forever want to kneel before. Exhaling softly, shivering in place with a cold heat, the eagle bowed his head submissively.

He was right where he needed to be.