Liselle's Birthday Gift

Full description: A Lord sexually torments and denies one of his harem slaves because she physically resembles his ex-wife. When the slave begs him for sexual relief for her birthday, he organizes a cruel game instead. 5.5k words, very dark content rating.

Content warnings/tags: sexual slavery; nonconsensual gangbang; extreme use of degrading language, including slut-shaming and fuck-pig/animal comparisons; harem setting; chastity; anal; oral; restraints; eroticized bullying

Liselle knelt beside her Lord's bed and waited to be acknowledged, trying not to squirm.

She was the lowest-ranked among her Lord's slave-woman harem, deemed unbreedable, her pussy not fit for his use. As such, she was sentenced to wear a chastity belt at all times. She had been given the rank a year and a half previous, when she had first entered his harem.

She hadn't even known that such a shameful position existed; it had, evidently, been created for another harem woman who had disgraced herself in an affair with one of the slave men of the palace. When Liselle had been gifted to her Lord, he had dismissed the other woman from his harem entirely and declared that Liselle would take her place in the chastity belt, for the sole crime of too closely resembling his ex-wife.

Liselle had always been a well-dispositioned slave, determined to make the best of her position in life, and though she had been dismayed by the shame of her position, she hadn't been deterred. She had thought that she would earn her way into her Lord's good graces once he got to know her better and saw how sweet and helpful she was. Surely, with time, he would see that punishing her simply for her appearance was unfair.

Time had passed, and his change of heart hadn't come yet. Liselle held out hope, but her situation had become more unbearable than she could have imagined. The shame of her title was no longer her foremost concern, though she was embarrassed to say so; if she had been a better slave, the lack of her Lord's favor would have been her first and only concern. But the hellish, unfulfilled burn of need in her pussy had forced its way into that position.

Her Lord had ensured that. He didn't merely put her into chastity and then disregard her. He tormented her intentionally; he would toy with her nipples until she was whimpering, then dismiss her without even using her ass. He attended her bathing nearly every day, encouraging the bullying harem women who were in charge of unlocking and cleaning her to pour the water over her twitching slit again and again until she rocked her hips and begged for them to stop, because she knew the torturous pleasure of the water running across her over-sensitive body would never bring her to climax.

She knew because her Lord had tested it one day, had strapped her down to a table with her thighs spread and instructed two of the other women to pour warm water over her gaping pussy continuously for hours. She had moaned and writhed while he sat there and watched. The pleasure had built and built in her over the hours, leaving her groaning and twitching, convinced that each trickle of water would be the one to tip her over, but when her pussy had finally given in and convulsed weakly in a mimicry of climax, there had been no pleasure or release to it, just sharp stabs of need that had brought her to tears and shameful begging.

That day had been the start of Liselle's breaking. The way in which her Lord had impassively ignored her pleas, the way in which he had casually stroked himself while watching her writhe in unspent agony, had helped her understand: there was no way for her to earn his favor. He knew that he had unfairly sentenced her to a hellish punishment, and he didn't care.

Even so, it had taken months of steeling herself to even consider appealing to him for some relief, and that brought her to where she was now: kneeling on the hard stone beside his bed, her poor pussy clenching and dripping inside of her belt as she was forced to listen to the creak of the bedframe and the pleasure-filled cries of the more favored woman he was fucking.

When Liselle had requested an audience with her Lord and been summoned, she had been expecting to be meeting with him alone, but of course she should have known better. Instead, she had entered his chamber to find him already...engaged...with Syntia, one of the mid-ranked women of the harem and one who was most often unnecessarily cruel to Liselle. Now, knowing that Liselle was waiting and listening beside the bed, Syntia had elevated her performance of pleasure.

"Oh, yes! Yes! My Lord! Your cock fills me so well!" Syntia squealed. "Ooh! If you keep rubbing me there, I'll--oh--oh--oh--!" She screamed as she came. The second climax she'd had since Liselle had entered the room, supposedly. Maybe she was faking them for Liselle's benefit; Liselle tried to convince herself as much, but it did very little for her misery, because she was well aware that even if Syntia faked her pleasure at being fucked, the other woman was free to stroll back to the harem quarters and rub herself to release as many times as she wished, or even to find pleasure in the hands or mouths of other women in the harem. All forms of relief that Liselle was barred from.

Liselle couldn't quiet the low groan of desperation that spilled from her lips as she was forced to listen to the whimpering end of Syntia's second climax. It may have been her imagination, but that sound from her seemed to be what finally finished her Lord, as he almost immediately grunted and went still as he spilled into Syntia's spoiled, satisfied cunt.

"Ooh," Syntia moaned happily. "Thank you, My Lord. Truly, I am blessed by your favor."

"Enough," he said, though he didn't sound truly annoyed with Syntia's simpering. He pulled out and slapped her on her pert little ass, and she squeaked and wiggled at him endearingly. "What did you want, bitch?"

That was Liselle. She was so lowly that he rarely ever bothered to call her by name. "M-my Lord," she stuttered, immediately filled with humiliation to realize that she would be forced to make her petition in front of the smirking Syntia. "I...I wanted to ask...my Lord..."

"Spit it out, girl."

Liselle flushed red. "I wanted to--to make you aware that tomorrow is my birthday, my Lord."

He finally looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. "You wanted to make me aware? Do you not realize that I have a steward who keeps track of such things?"

"I...I thought maybe it had been forgotten. Last year..."

"Last year you didn't get a gift like the other women, and now you're feeling forgotten?" he snorted. "I see no need to waste my money or time on you, bitch. You're an unbreedable harem slave, you're practically useless." Syntia snickered quietly in the bed beside him.

"I understand, my Lord," Liselle rushed to say, though her voice wobbled a bit. "But I thought perhaps--it wouldn't take any, any money or time, if you would--just for my birthday--" she bit her lip.

"What?" he demanded. "Hurry up, bitch. My patience grows thin."

"If you would just let me remove the belt, my Lord," Liselle said miserably, and Syntia laughed again, loud and mocking. "Just for the day."

"You want me to despoil my cock with your filthy cunt for your birthday?" he demanded.

"No, I...I would just...I could touch myself," Liselle stuttered, her cheeks burning with shame to hear herself begging for permission to masturbate. Her Lord scoffed, and her eyes welled up with tears at the thought that she might have debased herself in front of him--and Syntia, who would surely tell every other slave woman in the harem--and still not earned the release she so desperately needed. "Please! Please, my Lord, I understand that--that I don't deserve the same pleasure as the other women you keep, but--just for the day? I beg you!"

He stared down at her impassively, but he looked as if he might be considering it. Or perhaps she just hoped as much.

"Come up here, bitch," he commanded.

Liselle climbed obediently onto the bed, her movements a little clumsy after kneeling on the hard stone floor for so many minutes. She was only halfway on before he grabbed hold of her tit, rubbing his thumb into the nipple; Liselle's mouth immediately dropped open on a moan and her hips stuttered, her body trying to find something to grind against as heat stirred in her pussy, but the hard metal of the belt kept any sensation at bay. "Ohh. Nnnh..."

"Disgusting," Syntia sneered. "Look at her humping like an animal. Don't dirty your hands with her, my Lord, I can touch her for you."

"Don't tell me what to do, Syntia," he scolded idly. He moved his hand to Liselle's other breast, squeezing this one firm enough to make Liselle whimper in pain and then again in tormented pleasure as he teased that nipple as well. "How long have I tolerated your presence, now, bitch?"

"A...a year and a half, my Lord," Liselle said, her voice breathless with shame and arousal.

"Not that long at all," he said, in a tone of disappointment. "And yet here you are, already pleading on your knees for the right to pleasure yourself. Do you know what a privileged life you lead, bitch? Any of the slaves working in this palace would happily give up sexual satisfaction for the rest of their lives to trade places with you, to spend all day in idleness and gossip, to not have to work for your bed or your food. And yet here you are, complaining to me that you don't receive enough pleasure."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Liselle whispered, the tears spilling down her cheeks. He was still rubbing at her nipple, sending little shocks of pleasure down to her sopping pussy, and she couldn't keep herself from shifting restlessly and rolling her hips even as he lectured her. He scowled.

"I suppose there's nothing to be done about it. I knew as soon as I saw you that you would be a useless, troublesome whore." He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her whimper and then sob before he finally let go. "I'll consider your request."

"Y--you will, my Lord?" Liselle stuttered, shocked.

"I said I would, didn't I? Now get out of my sight, your pathetic mewling has put me off the thought of dinner."

"I can help you work up an appetite, my Lord," Syntia cooed. He reached over and covered her mouth with his hand, but he put his other hand on her thigh, and she moaned and arched her body into his.

Liselle scrambled off of the bed and left the room quickly, not eager to hear Syntia screaming in pleasure again.

She hurried back to the harem quarters and tried to busy herself with embroidery, bidding herself not to think too hard about what his decision would be, but she was distracted for the rest of the day and found herself continually having to unpick her mistakes. It didn't help that, some time later, Syntia returned and immediately began whispering to the other women, and Liselle soon felt their stares on her and heard them giggling.

It left her shamed and regretful. Would this be the rest of her life? Debasing herself to beg for the most basic opportunity to pleasure herself, between long stretches of maddening need? If she could just be allowed to forget her sexual needs entirely, to devote herself to abstinence like a holy nun, it might be tolerable, but her Lord ensured that she was reminded every day of what her body wanted so badly.

If this was her position, then she would need to resign herself to it. And if she could just find occasional relief, even only once a year...that would be enough. It would have to be.

***

The next morning, Liselle was woken early and rudely by someone hauling her half out of bed. "Ahh! What? What?" she stammered, scrambling to get her feet under her before she fell onto the floor.

"Get up, you lazy slut," Syntia sneered, yanking her arm again. "His Lordship wants you washed up nice and pretty for your birthday party."

Liselle stood up and allowed Syntia and two of the other women to drag her to the baths. When they unlocked her belt, they jeered to see how wet she was.

"Look at her, all excited for her birthday present. He's never going to fuck your filthy bitch hole, you stupid cunt," Syntia informed her gleefully. "He doesn't want you popping out any ugly blonde babies."

"Maybe she thinks he's going to twiddle her clit," one of the other women proposed, and Liselle flushed and tried not to squirm at the idea of her Lord's fingers touching her there. No, she knew that was absurd. He would never touch her that way. Although he might instruct one of the other harem women...

"Stop wiggling and spread your legs," the third woman instructed firmly, and then poured water over Liselle's crotch, rinsing away the musky fluids of her arousal and making her groan as the water sluiced over her sensitive skin. "Stop moaning like a harlot, it's just a bath. Everyone can hear you."

"Sorry," Liselle whispered, then bit her lip to try and quiet another sound as the woman pushed her legs open wider and poured another bucket of water so that the water pounded directly on her aching clit. "Please, that's enough, I'm clean!"

"Definitely not," Syntia snorted. "He said to make sure we got you all scrubbed up like a calf going to market."

So the bathing went on for another half hour or so, the women alternately rubbing soap into Liselle's skin--often using the opportunity to tease her, tweaking her nipples or rubbing up along her thighs and the creases of her hips--and pouring water between her spread legs. By the end of it, she was whining thinly like a dog, blushing with embarrassment at the sound of it, but it was all she could do not to make any louder or more shameful noises.

"Please, please, have mercy," she begged finally, after the sixth or so such bucket of water. "Please stop! Oh, I can't stand it!"

"Listen to you, whining like a child even when you're going to get what you asked for," Syntia said, rolling her eyes. "Fine, I guess you're as clean as you'll get. Come on."

The women dried her and then wrapped her in a light linen shift. They didn't put the belt back onto her, and Liselle finally allowed herself to feel a bit of hope. Had her Lord truly decided to honor her request? Was she finally, finally going to be allowed to come? Her pussy clenched so hard at the thought that she stumbled slightly, and Syntia yanked her forward meanly to keep her upright.

She was dragged along through the halls, not to her Lord's chambers, but to another room that she was less familiar with; it was a sort of private receiving room, she knew, where the more favored women in the harem would often entertain small gatherings of him and his closest friends, or other Lords and Ladies who he wanted to impress. She had been in it only once before, when she had first been presented to her Lord.

It was much the same as she remembered: a cozy room outfitted with a plush carpet and finely-upholstered chairs and fainting couches, several low tables where food and drink might be served, and curtains to partition off areas of the room to create more privacy.

But the ten men gathered in the room were not her Lord's friends. She recognized them as slaves of the palace, mostly men who tended the grounds, all broad and well-muscled from hard work. They stood in groups around the room, talking in low voices, but went quiet as the women entered.

"I'll go fetch his Lordship," one of the other harem women said.

"I'll stay here and make sure she doesn't touch her dirty little slit while we wait," Syntia tittered, which made several of the men stare. Liselle flushed with embarrassment.

The silence that followed as they waited was its own kind of torture. The men continued to watch Liselle, as if they thought she might drop to her knees any minute and start rubbing herself. She couldn't deny that that was exactly what she would be doing if there weren't so many people there to see.

She tried and failed not to speculate on why her Lord would have gathered so many men. Were they all going to...? Surely not. Ten men?

Even as her stomach squirmed with trepidation at the thought, her pussy fluttered, dribbling a bit of slick fluid down the inside of her thigh. She fidgeted on her feet and hoped it wasn't dripping down past what the linen shift would conceal.

The other woman returned carrying several items in her hands; cuffs, Liselle realized with a flare of nervous heat, and a spreader bar. She'd seen her Lordship use such items with other women in the harem.

"His Lordship will be along at his convenience," she informed the room at large. "Syntia, can you help me prepare her? He gave me instructions." Syntia agreed eagerly.

The first thing they did was strip the shift from Liselle, removing any hope that she could avoid the embarrassment of advertising her shameful state. Syntia squealed with laughter when she saw the wetness dripping down Liselle's thighs, pointing at it until the men stared.

"Already? We just washed you! What a wretched little slut you are," she mocked.

"Help me get the cuffs on her," the other woman said. They cuffed Liselle's hands in front of her and then chained the cuffs to one of the low tables in the center of the room. Then they pushed her down on the table, so that she was huddled on her hands and knees on top of it, before cuffing her ankles on either end of the spreader bar. It wedged her legs apart so wide that she could feel the cool air between the wet, hot lips of her desperate pussy. The position--and the knowledge that the men standing in the room were all staring directly at her clenching, denied hole--made her leak helplessly, leaving her thighs even more wet.

The final item, which the woman pulled from the pocket of her dress, was a gag. Not one that would fill her mouth, but instead one with a metal ring that held her mouth open. Liselle whimpered as it was strapped into place, leaving her feeling gaping and open at both ends as she struggled not to drool around the cold metal.

"Look at that. Like a sow all trussed up to be bred," Syntia remarked. Liselle's traitorous pussy responded to the words, squeezing down on the empty air as her back arched, and Syntia laughed. "Is that what you wish you were? A farm animal? That's what you sounded like, begging his Lordship for a chance to use that filthy pussy of yours, a filthy animal in heat. Do you dream about getting filled by a fat pig cock? Do you go out to the barns and listen to the sows squealing and imagine that's you?"

"Enough, Syntia." That was his Lordship. Liselle hadn't even heard the door open around Syntia's mocking words. She jumped in surprise, and then jumped again when she felt his hand brush down her spine. Her body responded automatically, her spine dipping to angle her hips even wider, and she felt more fluid drip from her gaping slit down to the table beneath.

Her Lord scoffed. "What a shameful display. You see the state of her." That comment was directed at the men gathered in the room. "This is Liselle. She begged me yesterday for an opportunity to pleasure herself for her birthday. It seems that I haven't been giving her enough attention to satisfy her."

Liselle's cheeks burned red as she heard the dismissive noises uttered by the men behind her. Her Lord was making her sound like--like--

Well, it didn't matter. She couldn't defend herself with the gag in her mouth, and she never would have spoken up to contradict him, anyway. And besides, the root of it was true; she had debased herself to beg him for sexual pleasure. At her core, she was just a filthy animal in heat, like Syntia said. Did it matter if it was her Lord's actions that had made her that way?

"I've gathered you here to have a bit of sport with her," her Lord said. "I assume that none of you are particularly enthusiastic to dirty yourselves with her, so I'm providing an incentive. You'll all have the opportunity to earn at least one day off, to be used whenever you wish."