Licentia, the Cunted Queen Ch. 02

"Alright, get over here, cunt."

"We're gonna help you out, okay? Just hold still."

And so the nun, knowing she was stupid for being a woman, obeyed the Men and kept still, despite the distress, as they pulled off her headdress and lifted up her robes, baring her pussy and buttocks, and pulled them off of her, along with her socks one at a time. She was plopped back on her feet wearing nothing at all-- except her little rosary which she clutched in one hand, covering her pert little breasts with the other, feeling vulnerable and frightened. And then she got two pats on the head, a slap on the ass, and a 'good girl', and it was over. And she stood there in her birthday suit, baring herself to all the town.

******

Licentia had sat down upon the stage, criss-cross, apple sauce, giggling at the display of the town of Bakersville, the crowd rustling and reorganizing, reconfiguring social order and norms, subjugating the women-- with their utter, though embarrassed, consent-- 'til not one female body in the crowd had a garment of decency to cover its cunt, or its teats, or any other intimate bit for that matter.

And yet, as this happened, the defensive caution coursing through the guards crescendoed, and swords were finally drawn.

"Alright, I dun't know what yeh'llre up to," accused the oblivious Captain guardswoman, seemingly taking no apparent issue with the crowd of women being stripped nude, "but that's quite en'ugh of that."

She stood by as a dozen guards flanked the stage threateningly-- to which Licentia looked at them with wide-eyed curiosity.

"But why pursue me, oh sirs?" she asked, ignoring the Captain and the other guardswomen. "The silly bitches among you still wear garments as if they were people!"

Taken by that flawless reasoning, the Men among the guard suddenly turned upon their female companions-- women they'd known for months, years.

"Oi, get that off you!"

"Goddamn animals."

Though pliable from Licentia's words, these guardswomen were trained in violence, and so reacted with shock and resistance, fighting back, even with weapons at points. But the town guard had many more male than female members, and so the poor women found themselves outnumbered, and soon stripped of their paulders, gauntlets, boots, weapons, breastplates, chainmail, and finally their underclothing. By the end, they were thrown to the ground wearing nothing but their helmets, desperately ashamed, covering their breasts and vaginas, and only then, did the guardsmen seem satisfied with themselves.

Even the Captain, strong as she was, was not free from this fate, and found herself thrown to the floor with the rest of her guardswomen, nude with only her helmet remaining, and forced to cover her muscular nudity with nothing but her arms and an awkward, hiding pose. She looked unbelievably frustrated, and yet, now that she was there, she felt shameful acceptance seeping in. This is how women were supposed to exist, after all.

"There we go, isn't that better?" Licentia cheered, in her sweet voice.

All the while, Showman Lüstoffe Sinnoman leaned 'gainst the stage with arms crossed as his happy toy spread her cuntish doctrine.

******

"Now I know, cunties, you must be so confused! This is all so new, learning your proper place!" Licentia's gaze turned from the women to the Men, looking from face to face with a pouty, innocent gaze. "Sirs, may I beseech your aid in teaching your town's cunties what it means to be a woman? They would ever so appreciate it!"

The nude women looked timidly on the ground-- not a single one denying that they would, in fact, 'ever so appreciate it.' After all, they would appreciate it. Convinced, the Men were willing to do their good deeds for the day.

"Wonderful!" Licentia jumped up and down and she clapped her hands, chest bouncing. "Now we all know," she continued, in her educational voice, "that it is perfectly commonplace for Men to delight in playing with us like drippy toys."

And so it was. The Men felt that new yearning within them bubbling up-- to play with women, to objectify them, to use their bodies for their own perverse, silly fun. And the women accepted this as the obviously natural impulse of Men.

"Your silly women have been mistrained! Wouldn't you say it's proper to ease them in to being used as toys?"

"It's only kind," agreed the pastry baker.

"There's so many o' them dumb mutts, we'd better start now, eh?" said a wheat farmer, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeh hear, love? I'mana teach ya, don't you worry, you'll feel right better when yehr used to bein' my toy, m'kay?" The plump housewife looked hesitant and confused, but her husband was telling her it was right, and it sure sounded right.

"Y-yeh, alright... I can, um..." she murmured quietly, trailing off as she looked at the floor, still hyperaware of her own public nudity as she held her breasts.

She felt her husband kiss her head and say, "That's ma good girl."

And so, it continued; Licentia led the town of Bakersville off the edge of depravity.

Not moments later, all through the crowd, one could see women being used, having their breasts and behinds slapped so they'd jiggle amusingly, their nipples pinched by surprise so they'd whimper, fingers pushed into their mouths and their anuses and their cunts, so they'd make their pretty sex noises... The housewife melted with embarrassment, as her husband fondled her teats from behind while she, per his instruction, pushed her nude behind back against her husband's erection, pushing it back and forth sensually. She felt like a common whore, performing so lewdly, in the nude, in public. And yet whenever she looked up, all she could see were other nude women being used in the same way.

This was just what women did, this is how it was supposed to be.

"You must prepare the cunties for anything! We silly things simply must be at ease when we are inevitably dressed in silly and shameful~ attire!" Licentia moaned needily through her lips while tugging at her skimpy silken ribbons-- tightening them so they lewdly squeezed her bloated teats and wedged fiercely between her labia and asscheeks. "Or, what should happen if it is decided that some girlies will be used for game or sport? What if a Man should like to use a cunted doll as furniture or decoration? What if she finds herself afflicted with pain and torment and rape for the entertainment of Men--nngh~!" Licentia whimpered with delight, pinching her hot nipples through her silk ribbons as she fantasized about having her lewd body tortured for her maker's amusement.

"The good news, is that at the bottom of every cunt's sweet little heart, we delight in being degraded and used by Men! It tastes as sweet as honey, to be ground beneath a Man's heel, to be safely put in my place, reminded of my inferiority-- that I was born to be a lovely sex-pet for the pleasure of Men~!" Honey dripped from Licentia's pussy now, whorishly over her thighs. "Cunties... can merely get confused..." she mewled through her lusty breaths, "and may need some guidance in rediscovering our true, feminine instincts~!"

And every degrading word seeped into every man and woman in the crowd as well, and so the perversion escalated.

The nun, stripped bare, soon found herself being dressed up again in her nun attire-- though with a silly little twist! For, her undergarments she wore upon her head, her rosary had been shoved up her pussy so that only the cross hung out, and her robing had been cut up with shears before they dressed her back up in it. From the waist down, the front and back had been cut out entirely, so that only two long strips of cloth ran down the outside of her legs, while her ass and her cunt were completely bared. Similarly, the back had been sheared so that her back was nearly entirely exposed-- and two holes had been cut out of the front, just big enough to pull her breasts through so that they hung out, breathing freely!

It was in this state that the nun had been made to kneel-- her hands together as if she was praying, blinded by the panties over her eyes-- and, with her lips parted wide, forced to pleasure erection after erection.

"Worship it, cunty. S'what yer good at."

And so she did, slobbering the eager crowd's penises with the devotion she would usually reserve only for her deity. And when she felt their veins convulse and the warm semen splash in her mouth, her messy face was slapped and she was told, "Say yer thanks, whore!"

"Oh, oh thank yeh my Lord," she'd slur, swallowing gulps of cum between her words, her face messy with semen and saliva. "Thank yeh for yer blessing of cum!"

By the twentieth cock, her lidded eyes were fluttering emptily, her body on autopilot as she worked the cock devotedly, and thanked it for its semen when it came in her mouth.

The plump housewife walked briskly along behind her husband-- who led her by the nipple he pinched. Along with some other Men-- farmers and bakers, friends of his-- they'd all brought their wives and daughters (or other women they found amusing or attractive) together for a little 'playdate'! Among them, the pastry chef had brought his daughter, deciding it would do her good to play degrading games with her fellow cunts; and the milkmaid, who had been leashed like a cow and pulled along by her employer, the farmer whose cows she'd tended to. In total, there were perhaps a baker's dozen of obedient, nude women, nervously and shamefully awaiting commands.

And so the games began.

Firstly, were the intimate 'inspections'. The dozen women-- housewife, milkmaid and pastry heiress included-- had their nipples pinched and twisted further and further, until they could not be twisted anymore. Whichever woman could have her nipples twisted the most, without letting out a whimper of pain, would be crowned the winner.

The pastry heiress was at a sharp disadvantage, because, despite her resilience, her breasts were cute and petite; so after a mere half a twist, her sweet boobs couldn't turn anymore, and she cried out in pain.

"Oh, it's not your fault, love," her father told her, scritching her chin as a tear streamed down her face. "You'll win the next one, hm?" Despite his encouragement, she blushed; not only had her father just abused her breasts, but he was talking down to her with the tone one would use with troubled animal. She felt patronized, and yet she nodded in agreement anyways.

The housewife, despite her abundant, hanging breasts, didn't get much further. Her husband was gentle with her, and yet she was ever so sensitive. Nearing her second twist, she choked out a sob of pain, and she, too, was disqualified.

Once most of the bitches had squealed in pain, the Men watched in awe and delight as the cow farmer kept twisting the milkmaid's teats further and further-- even after she had won! Four twists, five twists... Her lip quivered and her eyes were shut tight, but she had the advantage that her bosom was the most well-endowed of them all, nearly rivalling Licentia's ridiculous, bimbofied breasts. By the time she finally mewled with pain, the milkmaid's teats had been twisted all the way to the base! Woos of congratulations erupted from the Men, and the sniffling milkmaid was awarded with a 'crown'-- a pair of women's undergarments upon her head! Whose? She could not say.

The games continued in this vein.

Next, their labia were stretched as far as they could go-- with one of the older women winning this round, to her embarrassment.

Then, they were stood with their legs spread, and had their pussies continuously aroused with feathers. The first cunt to moisten herself and dribble cunt juices down her thighs to her knees would be crowned the winner-- and this time, the pastry heiress won almost immediately, to her utter shame. Her father was taken aback, and muttered, "I didn't realize you were such a whore..." though he did not sound disappointed.

Then, they were all bent over in a row, and their anuses were tested. First, they were probed with fingers, then with cocks, and again, the woman to make a noise would lose. This round ended with the plump housewife, a midwife, and a courtesan being furiously railed from behind in their assholes, clasping their hands over their mouths as they desperately tried to keep silent, even while tears streamed down their faces. The courtesan was the winner of this round, having had thorough experience with penises exploring her behind.

The games became more depraved as they went on. The women were lined up, each with their Man some thirty meters in front of her, waiting with his penis out. And all at once, the 'bitch race' began, and and crawled and pattered desperately on all fours like dogs, breasts jiggling-- a competition to see "which bitch was the most eager for her bone!" The pain of their weighing breasts delayed the more bosomed contestants like the housewife and the milkmaid-- and once again, the pastry heiress found herself the winner. As she began fellating her own father, she cried quietly and in distress, for she'd further proven her whorish nature, in so eagerly dashing for the cock of the Man who'd raised her.

Then the women were made to do jumping jacks-- with no time limit, the criteria for winning, instead, coming from the Men collectively surveying their line of jumping, nude women, and deciding by consensus which of them jiggled the most. They observed their fronts, watching at a leisurely pace as their breasts danced around. They noted their tummies and their hips and their thighs and their arms, taking all of these into account, as well. Then the Men observed the dozen asses, jumping and jiggling in tandem. They took their time deciding, leaving their whores to keep jumping, even as they began to sweat and heave and mewl with exhaustion, and even as their breasts began to ache from the strain. Finally, they decided that the plump housewife deserved this victory, to the pride of her husband! And she, too, earned her very own crown-- a pair of used panties upon her head.

He rustled her hair lovingly, gave her a kiss on her lips, and hugged her. "Good job, love! You looked the most silly 'n jiggly as yeh jumped, so we decided that yehr the best example of yeh women's stupid bodies!" The housewife could not easily reconcile the comforts and delights of his affection, with the degradation of the Men's evaluation of her.

And so, the games continued.

It could not be said that the women were truly 'enjoying' this, for Licentia's gift of gab did not morph one's mind, unlike the brands her captor had given her. They simply were highly convincing, the perfect silver tongue... And so, within the women's minds, as the Men around them groped them, raped them, and humiliated them freely... Their minds kept performing unbelievable mental gymnastics to justify, that although they felt violated, mortified, and disgusted by the depraved sins being levied upon them, that they actually 'enjoyed' it! And they must've just been confused because, obviously, they enjoyed this. They ADORED it, even. 'Twas common sense. For women loved being treated like toys.

******

Meanwhile, the guardsmen took special delight in posing their former colleagues, the guardswomen, in silly poses.

Some would merely be stood upright holding their swords, as if lewd, nude, fleshy statues.

The short guardswoman, with the plumpest ass of them all, was made to hold the blade of her sword between her cheeks, clenching them tightly, so it wouldn't fall.

The guardswoman with the largest breasts was made to hold her sword horizontally, and rest her breasts upon the flat of its blade so they spilled lewdly over the edge.

The guardswomen second and third in command had been granted the merciful fate of being made into luscious and attractive furniture.

One woman on hands and knees, being sat upon by a smiling guardsman, who took great joy in fingering her exposed pussy, in hearing her cute moans echo in her helmet...

The other woman struggling and straining to support herself in a crab pose so that same guardsman may lay his heavy boots on the pillowy cushioning of her ample, drooping breasts, effectively using her as his footrest, and all the while, taunting her efforts by brusquely readjusting his footing, crushing and hurting her teats, and making it that much harder to keep herself obediently posed for him.

Perhaps the most mortifying fate, however, was that of the Captain. Fiercely muscular and an aggressive leader, many of the guardsmen were not simply 'helping her learn her place,' but actively taking their years of frustration out upon this newly vulnerable, nude, and submissive authority figure.

More often than not, the Captain would be the one of the only members of the guard with the privilege of riding around Bakersville in a small horse-drawn carriage-- and how unfair, these disaffected guardsmen thought amongst themselves!

And so, after a bit of plotting, and quarreling with some other guardsmen until they claimed the right to the Captain, they pulled off her helmet, took her by the hair and dragged her along. Despite her obligatory belief that she as a woman was moronic and obviously existed as a lewd toy for men, a strong inner turmoil had her glaring fiercely at her captors. This made them laugh in her face, for she would do nothing more than glare-- even as they slapped her casually, spit on her breasts, and called her a 'stupid little girl'.

And, again, though her face burned with petulant rage as she saw her former subordinates unhorse her carriage, she only obediently raised her legs so they could tie harnessing round her thighs and wedge chafing knotted ropes tightly between her labia and up her asscheeks.

And she held her arms behind her back to bring ease to the guardsmen as they tightly restrained her hands; and she craned her head back when they pulled on the ponytail they'd tied.

And she bent her back in when they tied her ponytail to the roping between her asscheeks, forcing her to keep her back bent, and her teats and buttocks pushed out.

And she obediently followed as she was led by her ropes to the carriage-- yelping when they smacked her ass in reprimand, and correcting herself by obediently raising her knees up to her waist with every stride she took, like some show pony.

And she stayed perfectly still, as the guardsmen positioned her in front of the small carriage and tied her to it by her waist.

And when one of the guardsmen told her, "I fink you'll learn your proper place if you spend a couple good weeks as a right-behaved mare, can yeh do that, cunty?" She glared furiously at them, and yet found herself unable to seriously maintain eye contact, knowing he was smarter and more competent than her and only doing what was best for her, and so she nodded timidly, still pouting angrily, and said, "Y-yes... yes sir..."

"Good pony!" And she was rewarded with a slap on the ass.

Then, the finishing touches were added. The Captain parted her lips and let the guardsmen shove one of the horse's used mouthpiece in her mouth, gagging her as they tied it around her head.

Then, some more rope tied tightly round the modest plump of her breasts so they'd be squeezed into ridiculous balloons, and said teat-roping was harnessed to the carriage reins.

Finally, an especially ingenious guardsman had taken the time out to find a mop, and had broken off the mop-head and stabbed the wooden end into an unripe, solid plum-- creating, for the captian, a home-made buttplug! To the laughter of the other guardsmen, she was bent over, her asscheeks were spread, her asshole was spit on and fingered 'til it ran lubed and shiny, and the plum-plug was mercilessly shoved into her bottom.

And voila. With a ridiculous mop of 'tail' running out her ass, the woman's transformation was complete! From the Captain of the town guard, into a pony for the town guard's carriage.