A Rise to Power
From the Author: It's been years since I last wrote. I've had a story in my head for a long, long time now and I've finally committed to start putting it together. This is the first chapter of my story, and I hope you enjoy it. Please do note, however, that this is a very graphic story. Blood, violence, Sadism and Masochism run rampant.
I hope you will excuse me strange writing style. Enjoy!
A Rise to Power
Episode one
It was dark. It was always so dark. I liked it better when it was dark. The darkness was comforting. It meant I was safe, I was... alone. It meant these disgusting urges would go unfulfilled. I longed for the lights to come on, for them to come into my damp existence for but a brief moment; to bring a flash of sanguine and crimson into my world. I hated myself for wanting it. I denied it from myself. And even in this, in hoping that none of my desires would be fulfilled, in loathing myself and my own wants.. No, my own needs.. I was fulfilling them. To be shamed and used. I wanted it. When lights came on, I clamored for it. And when they went back out I huddled to myself, hating it, and taking pleasure in my hatred. It was a cycle I thought I would never break. Time was irrelevant. Nothing mattered but for when the lights came on. I ignored the meals I was given until hunger consumed me. I barely thought. I never spoke. My existence in that dank cellar was all a blur of blood and pain. It was all I knew. I could barely remember my childhood, my life before the slavery. All I knew were the men; the brief, wild encounters with each and every one. They would come in, one by one, sometimes right after the other, sometimes far apart. The waiting felt like days.. or seconds. He would be there. I would hear them mutter... language was lost on me. All I knew the guttural noises of the abuse I wanted. I don't even know if my own thoughts were in words, or if they just continued on as flashes of the last man to buy me. Their smirks, their laughter. Some nervous, some so ready. Some were gentle.. I hated when they were gentle. They wanted me to hate them, though. It was always about what they wanted.
I could hear the locks opening, soft clicks and clangs of the mechanisms turning, the key bringing forth a new space of existence. I only existed when the lights were on. Two men. One familiar, the other new. I could smell them; Lust. Greed. Desire.... Blood. The blood was on me, not them. So much blood. I could feel it caked into my fur.. but it wasn't there. I had been bathed. Always kept young, kept clean. No suitor wanted to see the remains of the last. The blood would be back soon, though. So soon.
"Seventy bvens an hour. I'll give you the key to his shackles. You can leave them on or take them off.. it makes no difference". He spoke. The second man did not. He simply placed the money in my master's outstretched hands, his eyes never leaving me. I lifted my head slowly, taking them into my gaze. To this day I cannot remember my master. I have no memory of his name, his species, his pallor or size. But the men.. I remember them so well. This one was special. He was my last. He was tall and rugged. A leopard. A predator. He was well built... Well groomed. He was of noble blood, of that I have no doubt. He smelled softly of apples, but more than anything else on him, I smelled power. He radiated it. I felt a stirring in my loins as he stepped forward, my breath already hanging heavy in the air.
My master left us. I heard the locks clicking again at the door as the man placed his hand upon mine, leaning towards me. He ran a claw against the shackles that bound me to the wall, clinking it against the metal, rattling the chains. I sat against the wall, my head turned to the floor. I shuddered against his touch, my body responding in earnest. I was already at the ready, rock hard in the cold air.
"What is your name?"
He said to me. I shook at the sound of his voice. It was a question, but there was a command behind it. This man was accustomed to having things he wanted handed to him on a silver platter. Those that disobeyed were likely to find themselves in the next life. I could barely speak, my vocal cords failing me.
"Mordre, my lord."
"Where are you from?"
"I.. I do not know my lord."
"I see."
He continued to examine me. He slid his claw from the shackle to my bare skin, running it through my fur. My body convulsed as he touched me. I was aching for it. For his touch, for his rage. He simply slid his claw down my arm, up unto my neck, dragging it across my throat.. across the most vital vein my body. I groaned softly. He smiled. I was breathing heavily, his tall body looming over me. I was eye level with the front of his breeches, and I could see that he, too, was ready.
"Stand."
Another command. I did as I was told, shuffling awkwardly to my feet. He was taller than me, my muzzle barely reaching to his chest. He was wearing the clothes of a commoner, but he made them regal. He would not wear is finer things for this occasion, of course. He was trying to blend. If it was known what he was doing, it would ruin him politically. This man was no fool. I gasped softly for he had suddenly pressed his body against mine, my naked skin against his clothes. My manhood throbbed against his inner thigh, my body begged for him to ravage me. I would not be disappointed.
His hand moved like a flash of spotted, golden light. It took my throat in its powerful grip and began to crush me. I cried out, surprised and taken unawares. It took the breath from me, it controlled my existence. The claws dug into my flesh and I felt the blood began to pour. The sweet, sweet pain blossomed within me, spreading out to every corner of my body. I would have groaned, but there was no air for me to do so. I tugged against my bindings, my body tensing in a moment of ecstasy, the luscious sensation taking me over... and then it was gone. He released me and I gasped for air, dropping to my knees. It may have only been moments, it may have been minutes. My face was burning hot and I gulped in air as if I had been almost dead. I shuddered on the floor and looked up at him, the burning sensation of the nicks he left in my neck making me feel real. He was untying his breeches, the massive prize underneath threatening to burst forth. Out it came, regal and beautiful, falling heavily against my face. It stood erect, massive. One of the largest I had ever seen and I had seen more than my fair share. He didn't need to speak; I leaned forward and took it into my maw, suckling on it and sliding my tongue underneath it. It was bliss, but for a moment. His hand was swift, striking me against the side of my face, sending me to the floor, as much as the chains would allow. I tasted blood... I loved it.
"I gave you no order to begin!"
He yelled at me, his teeth bared behind his black lips. I turned my head to the floor, a few drops of my life fluid hitting the hard ground
"I apologize it was not my p-"
He cut me off with a swift kick my gut. I felt his claws graze me, and I wished terribly that they had broken the skin.
"You will not speak in my presence again, trash"
He hissed at me softly. I merely nodded, righting myself and sitting underneath him, my eyes on his feet. I could see some of my fur under his claws. I shivered softly. He took a handful of my headfur, pulling my head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, full of malice. He would have paid any price for this. He pressed my face against his cock and I knew what to do. I opened my muzzle slowly, waiting for permission. He nodded, and I went to work with gusto. I pulled it into my mouth, using my tongue on the underside as I bobbed, slowly at first, onto his massive piece of meat. I couldn't get it all into my mouth, so I began to push it down into my throat. It choked me, but I had long since lost any gag response. I took him all the way in, pressing my lips to the fur at the base of his cock, diving onto it again and again. I could hear him groan softly above me, his hand still on my head. My own manhood was twitching, leaking onto the flood below. His grip tightened, nearly pulling the fur from my head. He began to force me onto his manhood himself, pulling me back and forth. It hurt to feel that massive piece working me over, forcing down into my gullet, and I cherished it. The burning sensation in my throat made my body twitch in ecstasy, the lack of air making my lungs catch fire, my eyes water... and then there was air. Again I gasped for breath, but more than anything I wanted his cock inside me again. I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes. I knew not to speak but my body told it all. I was on the verge of spilling my seed just from this, and my night was far from over. He pulled my up to my feet and turned me around against the wall. There were no words, no sounds other than the chains rattling as he positioned me. He pressed my body against the wall, my rump left bare for him to inspect. I felt him press his meat against me, yanking my tail into the air. I yelped in pain, his grip pulling the bones so hard it felt they would dislocate. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and all I knew was a blissful torrent of lust. I knew what was coming. I wanted it, I ached for it. I hated myself and I loved him. I wanted him inside me, his seed to spill within me and mix with my blood.
And in it went. I cried out, his manhood pushing past my cheeks into my body. No warning, no preparation, no lubrication other than my own saliva. He pushed me against the wall so hard I could hardly breathe, sliding into me as fast as he could manage. I whimpered and squirmed but it was no use. He held me in place and I breathed in ragged breaths, my own cock trapped between my body and the wall, making my bellyfur wet. He began to thrust into me and I closed my eyes, taking it in me and hoping with every push that he would go further. I felt him deep within my body, the pleasure and the pain mixed together so well in a beautiful cascade of sensation and I gasped nearly every time I felt him bury himself to the hilt. It had been ages since one so large had been inside me. I was beyond myself. I was in a different state of mind altogether. He placed his hand upon my buttocks, digging his claws into the flesh, five trickles of blood beginning to pour down my leg. It only made things better, that beautiful flower of pain blooming again inside of me. His free hand steadied himself against, me, pushing me into the wall. With every thrust I slid upwards against it and his claws pressed harder into me. Again he pierced the flesh, my back now slick with the crimson fluid. I felt tears rolling down my face. I never understood why they came, but they always did. They meant nothing, however. I loved it. I loved it all and I craved it every day. When the lights were out I groaned and I waited and I waited for the doors to open, the lights to come on, for the new man to ravage me and make me what he wanted me to be. To smell my blood in the air, his sweat and his lust all mixed together in a whirlwind of pheromones. Time was lost upon me. All I knew was each thrust each prick of his claw, each groan uttered from the depths of his body. I wanted it to last forever, for him to take me until I collapsed, until I melted against him. But it would not be so. I could feel him already coming close to his finish. He was thrusting harder now, slamming me into the wall. My own manhood veritably crushed against the hard wall, blood dripping down my body from so many places. He began to drag his claws down my back. I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I loved it all. No one would hear me. No one but him, the only thing in my world, making me exist. And then he reached his climax. He spilt his seed deep into my body, the warm gush of semen inside of me. I groaned out, scratching my claws against the wall. He began to slow, no longer thrusting. Slowly he pulled his cock out of me I cried out; in sadness and in lust. I wanted it back, but I could not have it. I stood against the wall, soaked in blood and sweat. His cock fell from inside me to hang half erect between his legs. He released my tail, and I cringed as I let it fall back to its natural place. It curled between my legs. I breathed deeply, my own cock still raging between myself and the wall. It seemed today my own release was not to be. I waited for an order, a comment, a word, or a touch. Something to direct me. It seemed to take ages, but it finally came. Again his hand flew against my face, striking me to the floor. Blood splashed against the walls as I fell. I struggled to right myself, turning myself to face this man, my back against the wall. Drenched in my own blood and his sweat I looked up at him, pleading for my release. My manhood twitched in the air. He smirked at me. He took his foot and pressed it against my cock, curshing it against my belly. It was too much. His touch, the pain, the smells in the air. I couldn't hold back. I emptied my seed against my stomach and his foot, firing off rope after rope of my cum into my fur. I shuddered as my climax lasted what felt forever.. and then I felt his claws dig into my stomach
"I gave you no permission to cum, you peice of shit."
He glared down at me. I looked back up, weakly, and returned the gaze. I still ached for more.
"Do you know how much I paid your master tonight?"
I shook my head in response, barely able to breathe.
"Two thousand."
My eyes widened. I had a very, very long night ahead of me.