'Sex Slave' Segment V

The Kennel

“As you know, Jemila, the criminal code in the Kingdom is well within the boundaries of what the world would consider humane. Gone are the days when some miscreant got boiled in oil for stealing a loaf of bread,” the Queen lectures as the duo stroll through the opulent Palace. “But there are some outstanding exceptions, some may consider draconian... the death penalty for dealing in drugs... as with many tropical countries so suitable for the growth of opioids. And the other is particular to our local industry... prompt execution for trafficking in diamonds... raw diamonds presumed stolen... mining being the largest industry in the Kingdom.”

The Queen leads outdoors to an unassuming low structure adjacent to the grassy field. Jemila notes there is a large overhead door open to the fenced pasture of many acres where the Mastiffs frolic.   

“But on occasion I will issue a Royal pardon... the benevolence of the Queen demonstrating the noblesse oblige of Royalty.”

The Queen leads within, stepping to the right to enter what appears to be the viewing box of a theater, raised seats arranged such that a viewer can observe an open area of compacted soil below.

“This is where on occasion I will show my hounds... and my benevolence,” stepping to an intercom box.

“Release Sparkles... to be mounted,” the Queen firmly instructs, pressing a button to communicate her edict.

“Be prepared, Jemila. And keep in mind my kindness, the girl has been spared execution.”

With that, a door to the side opens and into the open area of compacted soil rambles a young girl, shaved head precluding an accurate determination of age. Hands chained, she labors in walking. Jemila notes heavy rings somehow attached to the ankles and is shocked to see similar rings about her pubes. She wears what appears to be a leather vest of gaudy red, covering her upper back but with openings at the chest to leave breasts of size and firmness completely exposed. Adding to the shock, the firm mammary glands are both adorned and bound. Each has been pierced with a short vertical post of black iron. Tiny baubles are attached beneath, dangling and clinking with each labored step. Above, a slim chain is attached to eyelets at the top, evidently strung behind the girls neck, supporting the breasts as would a brassiere.  

“We do not know her real name. It seems she was kidnaped quite young, and a certain unscrupulous couple began using her... as a mule... to smuggle stolen uncut diamonds out of the Kingdom. My customs inspectors named her ‘Sparkles’. During a strip search at the airport she was made to squat and when commanded to cough her tight little cunny gave up a condom filled with the sizable uncut gems... the rubber breaking open in hitting the floor, the contents sparkling.

“Those posing as her parents... the ring leaders... have been executed. I spared the girl. Been serving here since her arrest... serving the Mastiffs... many years of training and conditioning.” 

The girl moves to the center of the exhibition area. Jemila cannot help but notice how healthy the girl appears... considering her status as a prisoner of crime. Well proportioned, broad shoulders, but for the ungainly walk... laboring with the foot bondage... the girl appears as would a well conditioned athlete.

“So addressing the many problems,” the Queen continues as the girl looks up, her gaze one of respectful reverence. “One, as you noted keeping the hounds happy. They get frisky... the intact males... and I too much enjoy breeding them to neuter. But I cannot have them mating indiscriminately... so...”

The Queen’s words fade as a huge black Mastiff bounds into the building, running full out through the overhead door opposite the viewing box.

“That’s Thumper... my alpha. Amazing the olfactory nerves. He picked up her scent. He’s going to mount her. Feel free to take a photo, Jemila. But please do not broadly disseminate.”

Jemila notes the girl drops to her knees, parting her thighs, head lowering such that her encumbered hands press to the soil to steady her. The Queen smiles seeing the girl Sparkles crane her neck, lifting her forehead, maintaining eye contact with the Queen in some unspoken directive. To the breast chain, loosely flopping about on the red leather covering the girl’s back is a thick length of rugged leather. Thumper approaches from behind, paws to the girl’s shoulders, his powerful jaws taking the strip of leather and pulling vigorously.

“Such wondrous instincts, the male beast exhibiting dominance in mating. See how the girl immediately yields,” the Queen narrates.

In pulling the leather, the breast chain tightens, the girl’s breasts bobbing about, the baubles beneath sounding off raucously, announcing the ignominy of the deed. Yes indeed, Jemila silently agrees, a girl’s precious glands so cruelly tethered and yanked about would tend to bring capitulation.   

Then the girl is indeed mounted, the huge frame of ‘Thumper’ covering, paws pressing to the red leather of the girl’s upper back, a massive pizzle flashing and quickly disappearing as the hound penetrates anally in a swift, seeming well practiced motion.

Thumper humps... the deed not clumsy, the girl meekly looking up to the Queen, the humiliation surprisingly acceptable. A shocked Jemila notes the Queen’s gleeful look. The girl’s face appears dreamlike. There comes a contrasting look of distant joy in pleasing... the Queen?.. the hound?.. and annoyance in the unwanted attention. Jemila’s hand goes to her pocket. Her cell phone... some taps of her fingers... a snap... a photo.  

“I won’t allow the girl to take pleasure in the deed... not normal pleasure. She kept’s chaste from that standpoint... no vaginal penetration. But well trained to offer herself anally as you can see. And she’ll have her reward.”

Thumper is brusk, vigorous and... as Jemila imagines with all mammals... quick. Heavy paws pressing at her shoulder tops, huge claws evidence the utility of the red leather vest. Having established control, emotionally vanquishing the girl, the jaws release the leather. Then a long and nimble canine tongue begins lapping at the back of the girl’s neck, methodically working upwards to coat her bald head with slick saliva. A canine gesture of ‘good girl’... ‘good obedient girl’. Jemila shudders in thinking of the slime and the odor... the alpha male marking his conquest, leaving his scent. Within moments the coupling ends. Thumper saunters away and the girl rises, strolling forth obeisantly, eye contact continuing as she steps to the box.

“Thank you for letting me be of service your highness.”

As Jemila notes the sincerity of the words, the Queen nodding, she is aghast to see male effluent streaming down the inner thighs. Then the Queen reaches into her kimono, tossing to the compacted soil a biscuit, that given a dog. As the girl falls to her knees, scrambling awkwardly to take the biscuit in her mouth, hands tethered, the Queen explains.  

“Very bland, practically no nutrition, but it gives the girl a feeling of fullness. Plus is it tinged with a combination of rufenal and ketamine... very low dosages. Keeps the girl complacent, submissive... and most importantly addicted. She’s always eager to earn another biscuit,” the Queen cackling under her breath.

“Clean up Thumper then stay,” the Queen commands then turns to Jemila. “She’s orally conditioned as well... and the Mastiffs have come to expect the attention of her tongue and lips after coupling. The other hounds are rutting in smelling  your wet cunt and may want to take you as well,” calling out to the girl.

The girl nods as she munches, head lowering, tongue lapping the soil to take in every crumb. Then she rises and slowly steps backwards, maintaining eye contact. Jemila hears the faint tinkling of bells.

“My bells, special vaginal insertions, keep her in heat as she’s being fanny fucked. But never bring her over the top... ultimate climax never quite achieved. But she’s wet... and kept odorous. Keeps the pack stimulated. And perhaps I will send in the Prince,” the Queen seeming to repress more cackling as she turns to speak to Jemila.

“So another problem addressed. The girl must be punished. More importantly, as discreet as I am in having the girl mated a few times per day, word gets out... that the fate for trafficking in diamonds may be worse than quick execution. Term it a deterrent.”

The Queen moves to exit the box. Jemila follows, finding herself in a daze as she looks over her shoulder to see a subdued Thumper now approach the girl from the front. She falls to her knees, once again in abject compliance. Thumper rises to place his massive paws on the girl’s shoulders, seeming to press the girl lower for oral attention. 

“And the final problem addressed... the spice thing. When the Prince itches for variety, I send him here to the kennel. As I said, the girl has been conditioned and trained to please anally... and orally as well. So here at the Palace there’s little of the marital ennui we spoke of... especially since I have instructed that the Prince is to cover the girl only after my hounds are satiated first. Gives a woman of my ilk a warm feeling... ceding to his need for spice,” outright sniggering, no further effort to repress her cackle. 

“Another mint julep, Jemila. I think you could use a drink. And I’ll tell you about another girl to whom I have offered Royal clemency. She’s currently in training. Sparkles may earn herself some reprieve.”