Short Story XXVI

The beast stands to the side of a throne like chair. Chained to the ceiling by his neck collar, he struggles on toes, prostate stimulator inserted, penis stiff, fluid drooling between his thighs from the opening of Kendra’s urethral reroute.

Kneeling before him, the broad long tongue of the Queen’s castrate laves his scrotal sac. Sitting with a smile of confidence is the Queen.

“After a suitable number of my subjects have viewed you, I will have you returned to Kendra and the pump. Meanwhile, the image of your well bound nakedness has served me well. No one doubts the earnestness of my decree of gynecocracy. We have in mere weeks encased almost every cock in the Kingdom.”

Before the trio stretches a sizeable, high ceilinged area of the Palace. Adjoining the kennels, the former King had the addition built in order to review the Royal hounds without subjecting such to the heat of the desert.

“I am not the dog fancier that my father was. But there are certain amusements to be had with an inspection tour from time to time.”

With that, a low trap door in the far wall opens and a pair of Irish wolf hounds enters the fenced in arena. Young, powerful, the pair lope about, masterpieces of pure breeding.

“My breeding males. Amazingly powerful, they can crush a human arm in their jaws.”

A second low door opens. A human form crawls through then struggles to stand. The beast stares in disbelief. It is somewhat familiar. Completely hairless, naked, hands appearing to secured behind the back, it is the chambermaid who years before furtively offered sexual favors... quick but most energetic doggie style sex in various Palace hideaways.

“Yes, it’s your little trollop chambermaid, my beast. She also serves as a symbol of my power. I have the household help come here and observe a few times per year. Greatly diminishes any desire to copulate behind my back.”

Finally arising to her feet without the use of hands, the young naked form most gingerly walks on toes, humbly approaching the faux throne of the Queen.

“Good afternoon, your Majesty. It is most gracious of you to come here and watch while I am fucked once again. I so much enjoy your attention and amusing you.”

The most humiliating words are clearly and plainly enunciated, as if announcing on stage, a practiced speech.

“Good of you to entertain me. Have you been fucked today?”

“Oh, yes, your majesty, the hounds very much enjoy me. I am penetrated often, as often as they desire.”

“Show us your cunt. Your former lover has not recently had the pleasure.”

The girl instantly turns and bends deeply at the waist, backing towards the Queen to fully display her feminine charms. The beast notes that the use of her hands is very much impeded by piercings and a set of rings. The thumbs, right and left, are ringed above the knuckle. Such appear to be permanently attached to large and deeply penetrating rings cruelly thrust through the gluteus maximus muscle of each buttock.

As the girl bends she parts her feet then tugs with her thumbs to most obscenely spread herself open for the Queen’s visual enjoyment. It is apparent the odd restraints have no other purpose then to facilitate the offering of her anus.

“I have mandated she be kept hairless... completely. She is not to be groomed as impeccably as the Royal hounds and I do not want lice. Thus she is kept bald. And you will note, my beast, that I had her infibulated, essentially suturing together her inner labia. But not before inserting some rather clever balls into her vagina. While she is being fucked anally the balls jostle the vaginal walls and offer the most tantalizing pangs of feminine pleasure. I have turned my little nymphomaniac into an outright pleasure addict. She now takes the knot of my hounds... many times per day... and thanks me for it. Is that not right girl?”

“Yes, your majesty. I thank you so much for allowing me to be fucked by your hounds. It is a privilege.”

The Queen smiles in smug satisfaction as the beast’s eyes inspect. The anus is indeed well used. Traces of spunk appear, evidencing the girl’s admission of having mated earlier. Below the spread opening there is the expected pink flesh of the vaginal opening. But instead of inviting penile penetration, there is what appears to be the closed mouth of a serpent.... sutured shut indeed. Below the slit there is a glimmer of metal. As the girl moves to spread it tinkles. She has been pierced at the clitoris, obviously bringing further tantalization with restrained hands unable to offer the satiation of caressing fingers.

“And how is the bastinado, my girl? I note you are not walking as well. I trust the searing pain is welcomed.”

“It is considerate of you to have my feet caned, your Majesty. The pain is indeed welcomed after so many couplings with your hounds. It cools the unsatiated desire brought but so many deeply penetrating pizzles. And it is better that I not be on my feet... to stay kneeling to best please the dogs. I can better spread and assure I am ready at all times for coupling.”

With that, one large hound approaches, growls in communicating some message then licks at the closed vaginal opening.

“She is ovulating, my beast. It is the best time to observe her with the hounds. Her scent will cause them to arouse quickly and most energetically. The olfactory nerves of the male mammal do not change from specie to specie. My hounds want her. Note how that one is firming...”

There comes a bark... muffled, another form of communication. The girl seems to understand.

“Offer yourself girl. We came to watch you gratify the Royal hounds.”

The girl instantly unlocks her knees and lowers, gliding to the surface of the arena in a much practiced ritual, her forehead greeting the soil. The beast watches as in an oft repeated motion, she obsequiously yields. The canines are her masters. She works her thumbs to pull her buttock rings and more fully open her cleft, posturing and moving to maximize the dog’s entry and resulting pleasure.

“So, pumping water for the Palace may not seem as laborious, does it my beast? Or perhaps you’d like to join my nymphomaniac in the arena after the hounds finish. She is anally penetrated at least five to six times per day, that once tight opening a wellspring of hound spunk... worn to hamburger meat by day’s end. But most meaningful is that she has come to enjoy her new role, exemplifying the Queen’s intolerance for dalliance. I do not have to take heed with my serving staff. A very chaste and proper lot I now employ...”