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[section= Luck of The Conquered (Story by AnotherGuest)]
I had a particular relationship with luck. I meditated this, sometimes, as I waited for the next hard dick to service. Luck is for the powerless, you know. The mighty have no need or care for it. I'd never known a knight who didn't think it was a silly notion. In contrast, ordinary folks love luck. Everyday, they embraced it, and prayed, and sacrificed for it. Me?
I'd become luck's broken bitch.
Lumpy droplets fell from my muzzle, smelling of all the males that'd marked me that day. I'd stopped counting them a while ago, since it only made it worse. In a way, I was lucky that my new owners had decided that my mane looked too proud for their tastes. If it hadn't been shaved, it'd be caked in semen. Instead, I was merely coated. It was almost like clothes. No, not really, but when there's absolutely nothing good happening in your wretched existence, at some point, you have to make stuff up so you won't collapse even further.
I kept my left eye closed. My scar hadn't gotten worse, or anything, but that was the only way I could keep my reptile masters' seed out of it, and I knew very well how unpleasant it was to have come in my eyes. I watched without paying attention as my latest client pulled up his pants and left, after getting to experience the trained mouth and tongue of a defeated canine slave, robbed of all dignity. They loved that.
It always happened the same way: lizards walked in the chamber pleased to see me already on my knees. They read the sign saying I used to be a knight, and they didn't believe it, because every brothel slave had one like that. Seemed like each of the collared, branded male in these lands used to be a prince or a legendary warrior of some kind, before their humiliating defeat. Whether it was true or not in my case didn't make the least bit of a difference. A pair of holes is a pair of holes. They grabbed my collar, they enjoyed the thrill of my total sexual obedience. They fed me their cocks, and I serviced them, spinelessly. Or they turned me around, and took me on all fours, shoving their erections increasingly hard between my cheeks with every whimper that I failed to hold back. When they were done putting me to good use, they added to the jizz sponge that I'd become, then left. There was no defiance. No rebellion. That'd been disciplined out of me before I was even sold here. I stayed down, in my place, and watched them go, accepting the moment of rest. I took every one of those I could get. This last lizard hadn't made me grovel; there was no need to thank him and wag my tail, no need to tell him how sizeable his dick was, and how much I wanted it. Lucky me, once more. I had a whole lot of rotten luck to balance out.
It was luck that dictated I would meet the bandit Bowakz, back in my homeland. Could've been someone else, but no. Once he gave me that scar, there was no way I could let it go. Again, luck allowed him to reunite his old gang just as I closed in on him, so I ended up as their plaything. Luck sealed my fate, when they decided it would be hilarious to have me shipped away and sold into bleak, hopeless slavery, rather than to accept a massive ransom. When I made it here, my bound ass, my vigorous body, my background as a knight, they were worth a lot, especially considering the pathetic submissiveness that Bowakz had beaten and fucked into me. Lizard lords were cruel, and easily bored. They toyed a while with my humiliation, then passed me around to their peers, at an ever decreasing price, proving just how little value there was to my life, until the worst luck of all had me land here, in this brothel. It was here that I was finally branded. Not a fancy conquered hero, anymore. Just a slave that's been passed around often enough to know twitchy, ejaculating cocks filled with the cold blood of at least one member from every noble lineage ruling this land. With no resale value left, I would stay.
I looked at it, the vaguely circular shape burned on my flesh, between my shoulder and pectoral. It was smooth, visible. No fur would regrow to cover it. I glanced at it, while I waited quietly for the next master to come in. What do you brand? Stuff you can't recognize otherwise. No name, no significance or identity. Only the ownership matters. That was my end point. My ultimate fate. A product. A sliding warm tongue under an erect reptilian rod. A stretching anus. An amusing collared body that bends in every way. It's true. I'd become quite flexible under rough reptilian use. Bit of luck, there.
I did eventually snap back to reality. It was risky to be lost in thought, as Sakorr didn't like it, and had ways to remind me that I belonged to the physical world, to which my offered body was highly vulnerable. Still, no one was coming in. A break in clients? I peeked at Sakorr, discreetly, and he was looking my way from the corridor. The guard didn't move. He enjoyed it when I had to wait for as long as he desired, on my knees, totally sullied. There was no way around it. I lowered my head, gently, then kept immobile. I'd learned docility.
Officially, it wasn't the guards' job to take care of a lowly slave like me. In lizard society, even brothel guards are siekl, weapon-bearers, a respected class. They enforced order, sure, but mostly, they directed clients, handled money. The brothel owner trusted them completely, not that he had a choice. My case, however, was special. When I arrived, I was randomly assigned to the absolute worst caretaker. He was a lazy asshole who never washed me between clients, never fed me, never moved me between chambers and slave pens. In fact, I'd never even seen the guy, but as was explained to me by the chuckling brothel staff, he was the son of the owner, and therefore impossible to fire by the managers. Other caretakers weren't interested in picking up his slack without extra pay, so I found out that I was fucked. When he noticed my dire situation, Sakorr stepped in, and started filling that role for me. But Sakorr, well... Sakorr had his own way of doing things. Whether he showed mercy, or saw an opportunity to have his fun with me, is debatable.
The square-shouldered lizard finally got moving, satisfied with my patience and respectful attitude. He rose up from his seat, and walked my way, sluggishly. He was tall and built like a black scaly bull, or a horse, or something, yet it always looked like all this muscle was a pain to carry. Quite paradoxical.
As soon as he entered the room, I dropped lower, waaay lower, on my elbows and knees. My rear shook with far more submissive enthusiasm than I really felt. I wagged my tail, but not too hard, as it was soaked with seed, and I couldn't risk splashing Sakorr. I dropped my ears completely, letting him know I was fully prepared for complete obedience. I remained silent, because Sakorr forbade me from speaking in his presence. Most important of all, I displayed how conquered and empty of pride I was, as I crawled to his feet, precisely where he trained me to await his commands. I stopped and exposed the back of my neck, until I heard the click of the leash against my collar. I meekly followed as he pulled me in step.
Sakorr wanted to own an exceedingly well-domesticated pet, and not just any mindless animal. That was the humbling price to pay, and I paid it every day. He was strict. He kept me low, and at work. At work with clients, at work crawling and heeding his orders, or simply at attention, it didn't matter, as long as I remained in active, effortful surrender. He couldn't impose it to me all the time, while he was busy doing his job, and I was busy bouncing on the clients' shafts. I could subtly phase out, and escape the reality of my ignoble fall for a few minutes at a time. That fact annoyed him. Thus, I knew better than to be anything less than utterly offered to his control when I required care. That was our unspoken deal.
Sakorr walked my used holes away from the chambers where clients were received, to the cleaning platform, outside, in full view of visitors and staff. My broken form on all fours was a common sight at this brothel. I was far beyond worrying about my image. What image? I had nothing, I was nothing. My leash-holding lizard selected one of the empty baths.
— Sit!
I sat my ass down directly on the polished slabs of stone warmed by the sun, while my caretaker of fortune poured hot water in the container. My knees were spread wide enough that I felt the floor against my hole, yet I kept upright, rigid in the expectation of Sakorr's next order. If I hadn't been completely stained with jizz, I might've looked handsome. At least, in the way trained dogs look handsome when they display their stern compliance. Instead, I was laughable. I felt the somber reptilian eyes on me, while Sakorr filled the bath. I sensed in his breath, in his minute movements, that he was pleased, even without looking. He loved how perfectly I was holding my position, without concern for how pitiful it made me look. To me, this was reassuring. Tragic as it is to admit, those moments of reassurance, when I exhibited what a conquered bitch I was, were the highlights of my days. Keeping away from punishment was the best I could hope for. As time went by, I felt it even more strongly, and there was nothing I could do about it. Pleasing the lizard masters was my sole function, the logic of my life. I slowly became the empty slut that they desired. Some day, I wouldn't even have to fake the loyalty. I'd simply have nothing else to be. It was an agonizing thought to entertain, and yet, increasingly often, I wished I could convince myself to let go, and embrace my fate as a nameless lizard spunk-bucket, already. Maintaining my sense of identity was exhausting.
“Hop in!”
I brought my paws up on the side of the bath, and climbed in the hot water. I stayed on all fours, tensed up. You fool yourself if you think I wasn't taught bath stances. “A tame male that wishes to avoid discipline holds position while he gets washed.” Those were Sakorr's words. For him, washing and fondling a slave weren't particularly distinct ideas, and so I endured his hands while he grabbed and rubbed my nakedness with soap to his heart's content. At one point, as he held my shoulder, following the lines of my brand with his fingers, he began to rub the crack of my ass with his free hand, and to finger around my tailhole with increasing insistence. Recognizing his interest, I lowered my upper body and spread my cheeks more, assuming he was about to take his clothes off, and climb in the water to sodomize me right there, in the bath, but not this time. The water might've been too disgusting. He fingered me for a while, then squeezed my locked genitals, to see if I would move. I didn't. I repressed the urge to whine and beg, repressed the tears. He was in total control, so there was no point. Mercifully, he released his grip on my dominated bits, and then bath time was over. I climbed out and he sat me on his lap to dry me up with a thick towel.
“There, now you might get some additional clients. Heel! You know how I enjoy watching you work.”
Thus, I was brought back in place, ready to swallow more dick, and start the relentless process of getting buried under reptile spunk all over again. From the corridor, Sakorr observed. As always, he would see me experience the absolute dishonor of life as a sex slave. My helplessness in the face of it all roused him deeply. Good for him. At least, I was clean for a few minutes. I tried my best to enjoy every second. I didn't how bad my luck was about to turn.
Heavy steps in the corridor revealed a surprise so astounding, that when I saw him pass under the door frame, I didn't immediately realize he was a client. The panther walked in without looking, and removed his bandolier. He placed bow and arrows against the wall, then removed his belt bearing a strong ring through which the shaft of an axe had been slipped. He did all that in such an accustomed way that I never doubted he was familiar with lizard brothels. When he turned around and saw me, he stopped dead in his tracks. He, too, took a moment, staring at my tight collar and brand, at my kneeling position, my nudity, to understand that I was the slave he'd paid for. The warrior squinted, with a visible effort of memory. I could tell he knew my face, but struggled to put a name on me, an identity. It was true that I'd changed much in status. It was odd. I hadn't thought of myself as a real person for many months.
Suddenly, his expression decomposed. Despite his fur as dark as a starless night, he went completely blank. Then, gradually, delight crept in the feline eyes. Deep, savage delight.
— Oh my god. You're that knight!
I stared back, though my best efforts of remembering my old life yielded no result. I didn't know that panther.
“You're HERE? THAT'S what they did with you? HAHAHAHA!”
The panther roared in side-splitting laughter. He took a step closer and saw my penis cage, sitting atop my bullied orbs. He resumed laughing. It took a good minute for him to calm down.
“The realm presumed you were dead, after you went missing in action. Bandit King Bowakz declared that he claimed your life, and that there was nothing left of you! I can see what he meant. Man, you really launched this dude's criminal career. He's got your sword, and everything. He even wears your cape around his waist. It looks decent, actually. Exotic. I can't believe he sold you as a slave! That's too good. What was your name? Remind me.”
Staying there, on my knees, with all of this thrown at me, it was torture. Worse than when I got branded, and I cried, back then. I didn't want to say my name. Still, the panther was a client, and I was a slave. There was nothing he couldn't make me do.
— Kodii, sir...
— Kodii! Right, right! Knight Kodii, with the rose, yeah! Remember me?
— I... not really, sir.
— No, of course not. I don't blame you. I wouldn't remember me either. I was just a regular soldier. We fought in many of the same battles, yet soldiers can suck it, isn't that true?
The panther appeared calm, but I sensed the boiling underneath. The desire to fuck me raw and make me sorry that I was born with each thrust. He could do that, so I preferred to placate him ahead of time. If I was yielding, and showed interest, he might be content to merely be another one of the males that made me taste their seed, or spurted it far up my rear, without any extra cruelty.
— Sir was a soldier? It's true that the knights rely on you a lot.
He frowned, displeased.
— Don't exclude yourself.
Panic. I course-corrected in a rush. I bent deeply. My nose left a humid trace on the floor.
— No, no. I relied on you. I'll be honored to provide you with pleasure, and receive every drop of your seed in compensation.
— Hmm.
The panther grumbled some more, but went back to undressing, so I rose up gradually. He opened his pants, and I found myself staring at his fierce and quickly hardening sex. It was nearly black, spiny. It rose triumphantly out of an impressive ballsack. I'd become something of an expert about that. It was obvious that the perspective of pounding my defeated muzzle or ass aroused him greatly. The feline took the steps that separated us. He didn't hesitate to touch me, tilting my snout one side, then the other. He ran his fingers over my brand, slowly. He took in the bite marks, the old bruises, my whole dominated appearance. He noted the fact that I didn't dare look him in the eyes. All I could do was smell his musk. It was stronger than the smell of a reptile, but also familiar. Even though he was a feline rather than a canine, in many ways, he smelled like home. That made me nervous, like a new slave about to be broken in. Absurd, but I'd never been fucked by another mammal, before. I was genuinely unsure how I felt about it. There was fear, for sure, but a small, ashamed part of me was excited at the mere notion of servicing something other than a reptile. It's not like I had much variety in my existence, anymore. He smirked.
“They sure did a number on you. Made you real polite. Not so proud, now, eh? You thought you were a knight, yet now you kneel, in front of everyone with a handful of coin.”
The large paw patted my head, caressed down toward my neck, where my mane used to be. The soft pads sent shivers through my body. His claws came out, but he was careful. He stopped below my skull, and tightened his grip, possessive. He pressed my head toward his dick, but had me stop right before my lips kissed his tip. I felt a rush. It was so damn strange.
“There, you were a hero, here, you're going to be my whore. The lord chamberlain must already have his new knight, fresh out of training, to soak the glory. Another one who'll think his pride is well-earned. Do you think he'll make it? Will he be a winner? It doesn't even matter. What matters is that it could've never been me. It'll never be you again, either. You might even be a better whore than a knight. Who knows?”
The panther massaged my neck. It was controlled. It was threatening. His quiet rage enthralled me as he touched my body in delicate ways. At no point was I fooled into thinking he was actually trying to be kind to me, but the brutal truth is that it did something for me, regardless. It fueled the rush. Anxiety and anticipation. It awakened me.
“All the same, I mean, here? Trained in sexual servitude by lizards? I kind of empathize. Must've been hell. They truly love owning us. They must've removed every last bit of your spirit with masterful precision.”
I kept gazing at the large erection, figuring out how I was going to satisfy it without too much discomfort. Words kind of slipped out of me. It was genuine interest, caused by the rush. Dangerous curiosity.
— How did you end up here, sir?
— Now, slave, you care about me, because I have you in my hands. Damn, it'll be good to use your muzzle. Shit went bad for me, if you must know. I was hungry, and I wasn't alone. We had marching orders in the morning, and no money to buy food in the city. So, we snuck around the reserve wagon to steal a few coins. No one would've ever noticed, but I got caught. I got thrown out with nothing except a whipping. Wanna see the marks?
— No, sir. I apologize. It's none of my business.
— Doesn't matter. A guy that has skill with a blade or axe doesn't stay unemployed for long, if he knows where to look. The lizards, they do love their clan wars, and they're not shy about spending on what they desire. They hire us. A tough panther among their men, that's too attractive to pass up, but they know we're here as a last resort. We have nowhere else. They say nothing, but they're aware. So aware.
The panther paused. He pressed me under him. I placed my hands on his strong thighs, to brace myself, and shut my eyes as I began to lick the underside of his engorged and abrasive cock. It seemed burning, in my mouth. Warm dick. Warm fluids. Strands of fur getting caught—very unpleasantly so—by my tongue. I swept all distractions away. I lapped expertly, and the feline's tight hold kept me working along the length at a brisk pace, at first, then at a zealous one.
“Do you know how that feels? Sometimes, I'm with the unit and when they look at me, I wonder. Did my captain hire me because it's hot for them that I'm taking his orders?”
The panther shook his head, and chortled dryly. I took more and more of him in my mouth, from the sides, then from the front, perfectly avoiding any contact with my teeth. My submission was flawless, I was certain of it. His anger didn't abate.
“I guess that, now, you definitely do know, slave! Come on, blow me harder, I'm not sensing your effort yet. You're not defanged, are you?”
That was an oddball question. I shook my head as a negative response, without pausing my work.
“Well, then, bring 'em out. I want to feel them.”
I couldn't make sense of what I was hearing, but I complied, of course. I slowed down, and with utmost care, I placed my fangs and pushed gently against the wide erection in my mouth. It was challenging, but I managed to keep working the tip of his sex with the back of my tongue. I sensed a tiny spasm, and he leaked some more. I swallowed the clear fluids dutifully while he grabbed my skull even tighter.
“Tamed fangs,” sighed the panther with satisfaction. “There's nothing that falls lower than a predator. Trust me, though, I'll keep you far beneath me.”
The panther angled me up, and started shoving with his full weight, reaching far down my throat. All tranquility was gone, and I knew that was what he'd intended to do from minute one.
“That's how you deserve to be taken. Rough!”
The spines were difficult to endure, but that was nothing. The riled-up feline accelerated brutally, and ceased withdrawing as much as before, so he could ram my muzzle faster. I no longer even had even a fraction of a second to breathe between the pumping movements of his massive erection. Without air, I focused on what was left: pleasing that angry male. I closed my eyes and shook helplessly with the barbaric back-and-forth. I did everything I could to suck harder, desperately, hoping my good work would incur his lenience, yet part of me knew that wasn't how this would end. I fought back the reflex to try and move my throat away from the obstruction, imperfectly. The panther's grasp, however, allowed no such derailing of his plans, and he forced me back in-line without a moment's delay.
“Stay and choke. Yes. Gurgle for me. Sing. That's the voice I wanna hear from you.”
He sounded dark. My lungs burned, and when I opened my eyes, I noticed the colors draining from the sides. I was blacking out, gasping, milking that cock, and suddenly I wondered whether I was going to survive this. I'm sure I was making some kind of beaten, pathetic face, as I tried to coax sperm out of that dick. That guy might've been killing me, and my final act would be to try to suck him off properly. I prayed that none of my ancestors were watching my ultimate wormlike ending. Maybe he would decide to spare me, though...
Maybe...
I felt the shock as I hit the floor. Commotion, above me. I breathed, greedily, despite the smell and taste of panther sex. I lived? I gulped as much air as I could get until my mind returned, but I stayed exactly where I was, collapsed between two imposing presences. I breathed more regularly, and began paying attention, happy to be forgotten. Just a sad canine rug.
“... is nowhere that says I can't do whatever I want! That's a slave!”
— Too rough, said Sakorr.
Sakorr! The massive lizard stood over me. Terribly slowly, I pushed myself to my side, and gazed up. They were arguing, almost fighting. I was stunned. The guard had possibly saved my skin. I remained there, waiting to discover what would be the next thing to happen to me.
— I paid! protested the panther. I've been here, before. I know the rules! There is no “too rough”!
Technically speaking, the panther was right. Some brothels had restrictions concerning what could be done to slaves, but not this cheap-ass one. Still, Sakorr refused to budge. I couldn't believe it.
— It's common sense, enunciated the lizard. You don't damage someone else's property.
— I would've paid the premium. I don't fucking care!
— I said it's not allowed, so it's not allowed.
The panther was getting really angry, and suddenly, he had a sort of movement toward his weapons. In a blink of an eye, Sakorr was within reach, moving much faster than a creature this size had any right to move. One single additional step on the feline's side, and the fight would've turned physical. Fear flashed in the panther's eyes. Sakorr would've snapped that tough panther like a twig. Too fast, too heavy, too used to fighting in these close quarters. The dark reptile hid a grin, like he was just waiting for an excuse to acquire a brand a new pet to tame and break into absolute wretchedness, all for himself. The feline saw it just as well as I did, and very wisely relaxed. Perhaps he caught a glimpse of himself on all fours under Sakorr, with the reptile's cock stretching his tight hole. He slowly turned to the guard once more, to save face, but the tension had resorbed. The frustrated client folded his arms, containing himself.
— Fine. In this case, I'll ask for a refund.
With the conflict behind them, Sakorr also put on a friendlier facade.
— You can, but you really shouldn't. I don't want one of our honorable clients to go home in a mood. It's bad for business. Look here.
When Sakorr crouched, I knew I was getting involved one way or the other. I let him slip a single finger under my collar and prop me up, fully exposed, despite how much safer I felt lying down there, out of sight. I went along with the motion, of course. Sakorr playfully displayed his effortless mastery of me to the panther. He put one large hand below my hip, and pulled me back against himself. He patted my rear while I stared down, fearful and cowed. The bulge under his pants hinted that this situation was far from displeasing to him. The panther made an intrigued frown, yet stayed mute.
“If you want to teach livestock its place, then it has to be conscious. I know this little slut well, he hasn't a shred of dignity left. You can use that. I understand that you two have some history? Very good. There are many other enjoyable ways to reinforce into him that he's the broken bitch, and you're the master. I'm sure you'll like them.”
And then, the next word was for me.
“Down.”
I went to all fours between the panther and Sakorr. I shivered when I raised my tail. I wasn't left waiting for long. The reptile placed both arms under my thighs, took firm hold of my lower half, and spread me open, painfully wide. I waited in shame while the client obviously began to appreciate the unexpected direction things were taking.
“For instance, I could stretch his hole while you put his muzzle to proper use, and you can watch him take it all. He'll even like what we tell him to like.”
The panther glanced at me.
— Nothing to say, now?
— I don't allow him to speak in my presence, explained Sakorr.
— Perfect.
— Did you know that he ejaculates on command? It's entertaining.
The panther shook his head as he grabbed my throat, and introduced his dick to my muzzle once more.
— I don't want him to come. I want him to stay locked up and be fucked like the miserable slave he is.
Even as he said that, I lapped the feline's rod loyally. I wrapped it with my tongue, enduring the spines, I mouthed at it. I poked it gently with my fangs. Then, I took it deeper in. I was so pitifully great at this that he started to chuckle.
— In this case, you should make him look into your eyes, while I do this.
The panther loved that suggestion, and made me gaze deeply at him just as Sakorr filled my rectum with his cool, monstrous dick. I shook with the shoves that disciplined my rear and sent me further on the feline, while the latter relished the strained expressions that I couldn't help making from the friction and the pumping of my depths. They fell into a rhythm. I swallowed meat and got rammed. Swallow, ram, swallow, ram, until the feline fed me his hot loads, gripping my ears for leverage as he thrust deep and choked me one last time for good measure. That way, I'd at least cough up some of his seed and make a mess.
Sakorr endeavored to finish as well, grunting and slapping my buttocks so hard that I fell and he slid out of me. This time, they allowed me to lie down, splattered from both sides, feeling entirely drained and sore from the hard anal. The floor seemed incredibly comfy. It was all I tried to think of, as the panther dressed up and took his stuff, and Sakorr put his deflating sex back in his pants. Otherwise, I would, as always, think forward to the next client.
The night-like feline was about to leave when Sakorr interrupted him under the door frame.
“I hope you enjoyed your time, and will patronize us again.”
He smoothed his whiskers, silently nodded in agreement, then departed, leaving me alone with my reptile master. Sakorr gave me a small kick. Nothing hurtful, but he got my undivided attention.
“You can take five,” he said, gravely. “But you owe me, for this.”
I knew. And I knew exactly what that meant. I wouldn't return to the slave pens, that night. I'd follow Sakorr home. He'd really put me through the wringer, there, with the pet stuff. Leashes, bare-ass walks, tricks and abject submission were on the menu, for that possibly life-saving intervention, not to mention sleeping by his bed. It was inevitable. It wasn't like I could do without his “protection”. I tried to vocalize a non-word response, in acquiescence, but it came out as a kind of sorry meow. Ugh. Sakorr grinned and left.
Still, after everything, I considered one very last bit of luck. My sole grace. This surprise visitor from the lands back home confirmed what I'd suspected: no one had any news of me since I'd been shipped away. That had to include Bowakz. Bowakz and his gang had opted for selling me out here specifically because they wanted me to spend the rest of my life in callous, debasing sexual obedience. If Bowakz ever learned how devastatingly successful his plan had been, he'd probably reach an immediate orgasm, from that knowledge alone.
Then, I would truly be in a perfect hell.
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