Day 1 - Part One.
Her name had not always been Solace. In fact, it was the third name borne by her, though it is the only one she can recall. The first, her birth name, she had been proud and eager to cast off. There were still flashes of the memory of that day lingering in the far recesses of her mind, of broken images, lowered upon one knee as she was formally accepted into the clandestine twelve member unit that she would eventually come to lead.
Her tribe had been intensely warrior-centric, eschewing most of what magic had to offer in favor of the cultivation of the martial arts. It was an art the young woman now known only as Solace excelled at. From a very young age, as was common among her tribe, she was trained rigorously in hand to hand combat and the use of weapons of all types. While there had certainly been many who were physically stronger than her among her tribe, as she grew into her own it became apparent that she was unmatched in speed, reflexes, and coordination. She became an expert in using cunning and finesse to best her opponents, and by the time she had reached her 18th year there were whisperings among the elders of the clan that she was destined to join the "Nameless Shadows."
Often simply referred to as the "Nameless," the unit consisted of those of the tribe who were not only the most lethal warriors of their brethren, but also the most versatile, athletic, and capable in the arts of stealth and clandestine operations. Every member of the unit, upon joining, relinquishes their birth name to be replaced by a simple word or phrase, chosen by agreement of the unit's current members. After witnessing her in battle and upon the training field, when it came time for her to be selected by the Nameless and brought into their unit, they settled on what was thought to be a fitting name for the girl--Discord, for that is what she brought to those she was faced against.
Soon thereafter the spread of the Empire from the South would draw her tribe into the fray of the wars being waged. While the bulk of their modest military might remained in place in their homeland for the purpose of defense and maintaining the appearance of neutrality, the Nameless Shadows would be sent on mission after mission to aid various efforts and fronts in the war. They were experts at striking with lethality and surgical precision at points of high tactical value, disrupting supply lines at critical times, and otherwise being a giant stinging thorn in the side of the Imperial forces.
During this time the young woman known only as Discord came into her own. Strike after strike, battle after battle, infiltration after infiltration, she repeatedly proved her worth as her expertise grew. While the Nameless were of an elite caliber, they did not go without their own losses, and eventually, their Captain fell in battle. To Discord's surprise, she was chosen to take his place, and as the war waged on and their unit continued to impact the shape it took, they began to gain a reputation with the enemy. Before long there would be a large bounty upon both the unit and Discord in particular, her locks of light-blue hair combined with the way she carved through her enemies upon the battlefield causing her to stand out in the memories of officers of the Empire that survived to flee and retreat.
One day, a curious thing happened, as a Fae arrived upon the scene of a battle newly won, bodies still bleeding as plumes of smoke rose from the wagon-fires. It had a message to deliver, one of an offering of parlay, of negotiation, with the Imperial General who was in command of the front they were currently engaged in.
There was much debate and concern over even considering accepting such an invitation for a meeting, but there was also perhaps a great opportunity to be had. After painstakingly considering every possible angle and developing various plans for contingency, Discord wrote her letter of acceptance of the offer.
When the day of the meeting came, Discord prepared for it as she would any battle, strapping on the light, black leather of her armor, designed by those of her kind to maximize the strengths and advantages of her feline brethren, its padding arranged in such a way that she could still perform quick and fluid, acrobatic maneuvers upon the field of battle while retaining some measure of protection. Various sheathes situated in tactical positions upon her frame carried a myriad of deadly daggers, while a pair of longer shortswords rested in a X-crossed position against her back. Hair drawn up into a high ponytail at the back of her head, tied off with a length of black cloth, the final piece of her attire was put in place--a black veil that draped over the bridge of her nose and hid features beneath the silver depths of a gaze that grew increasingly stern, focused, alert as her and her unit departed their camp and made their way to the meeting grounds.
The plan was in place, everything seemed to be in order, now they had only to execute it. After undertaking diligence in scouting the meeting place to ensure that everything was just as it had been agreed upon, Discord approached the small camp that had been erected for its purpose, flanked on each side by her second in command and best friend, Talon on her right and her best warrior, Fatal, on her left. Guards of the Imperial Army were set in a circle around the camp perimeter, its center dominated by a singular large rectangular shaped marquee tent while it was flanked on each side by two smaller ones.
“That’s a large tent for a meeting like this..even for a general.” Spoke Discord as they approached.
“Indeed. Well, you know how the Imperials are, it’s just an attempt at display of power.” Talon replied, her red painted smile contrasted by the jet black of her hair.
“Perhaps” murmured Discord. “..but keep your eyes open anyway.”
The moment grew tense as Discord and her two escorts neared the perimeter, a deadly calm settling upon the air as threatening gazes were exchanged, but as the trio advanced steadfast, the pair of guards at the entrance of that largest of the tents would move step in a shift to the side of the opening and pull the flaps aside for entrance.
Stepping into the confines of the spacious and broad tent, the first thing Discord would take notice of was the fact that there were too many people in the tent. She had expected three to five, but there were ten just at first glance Middling officers by the looks of them, with an additional two that she found as the silver of her gaze would rise past the set of two large fire-bearing braziers sitting in front of and to each side of the desk to find the surprise of a sight she had not expected. Her memory suddenly lurched to a month’s time prior as she recognized the general, a lean and tall dark elf woman with sharp and stern features who sat nonchalantly behind a long wooden desk, hair of a deep shade of purple cropped short, a massive hulk of a warrior standing just behind and off to her right. When they had first met, on the battlefield, she had been a Colonel.
The memory was etched into her mind still, a battle that had raged for the span of an entire day, Discord having finally fought and killed her way past the frontlines of the mixture of forces the Nameless Shadows had integrated with to face the colonel upon her high steed along with the phalanx of mounted knights surrounding her, Discord's own set of warriors close to her side. The melee was chaos, bodies clashing and falling, constant shifting of attention a requirement as danger was beset upon all sides. Still, somehow, a banter of threats was exchanged between the two even as they sought to face each other's blade, felling lesser enemies with swift strikes and deft counter-attacks.
"So..I finally face the blue-haired whore of the band of catsluts that have been such an annoying thorn in our side.." Lashed the words of the dark elf towards her, even as the blade of her longsword cleaved through the throat of a man and sent blood spraying. "..I must say, I am not impressed.."
Discord was a flurry of shortswords, slicing open the gut of one Imperial soldier before spinning and stabbing another directly through the weak point in their armor before regarding the colonel "Perhaps you will be impressed when I thrust my sword through your heart."
The colonel laughed a throaty sound. "The only 'thrusting' that will be done will be that of my soldier's cocks laying claim to all your little holes, slutkitten.."
"Don't. Call. Me. Slut. Kitten!" Discord’s words were sharp and cutting. Dipping to one knee, staking the point of one shortsword into the ground before the now freed hand slings back to a pair of sheaths upon her lower back only to whip forward with a snapping of her wrist that sends daggers whirling through the air, spreading as they flew to meet a charging pair of soldiers and pierce into their upper torso with a solid -thunk- of sound. "Surrender now and I will spare your life.." she offered as she rose again, pulling the shortsword free from the ground.
The twist and rotation of the dark elf colonel's wrist fell another warrior of the combined resistance army. "Surrender?" another hearty laugh. "Look around you, you are losing this battle!" And she was right. The resistance forces were thinning, some already beginning to turn and flee as morale slowly broke down.
Suddenly Discord's own warriors would begin to usher her back "We must go! We must retreat!"
But she was livid, driven to rage by the words of the colonel. She resented the notion of her kind being known as 'catsluts.' and she especially detested that pair of words the dark elf had used to describe her--slutkitten. She herself, despite the often whispered nature of the natural allure of her beauty, from features pure and pristine and even delicate in appearance to a sensuous body that was deliciously curved in all the right places, she took great pains to maintain a rigid modesty, eschewing sex and the pleasures of the flesh entirely. That didn't stop the dreams and the wetness of soaked panties she often found upon waking, but her self-discipline kept those desires well at bay during her waking hours. With a flurry of motion she set her blades to dispatching of the Colonel's nearest knight, the clash of swords brief and swift before the speed and reflexes of Discord brought the edge of blade to cut through the soldier's achilles tendon, a quick yank pulling him down from his steed only to replace him atop its form. Suddenly, from her vantage point, it became apparent the tide of the battle was swiftly rolling over their own forces.
Deflecting the attacks of a pair of knights who angled in on her almost immediately, placing themselves between her and their Colonel, she called out to the dark elven woman "When next we meet you will face your death!" drawing back slowly with her own warriors, those members of the Nameless Shadows showing relief that she had relented, turning the steed to make her retreat.
A final rolling, amused laugh of the Colonel was followed by her own promise "..When next we meet I will make a pleasure slave of you, show you what a slut you really are!" another rolling chuckle even as Discord began her retreat "Mark my words..if I capture you, you will serve the carnal needs of the Imperial Army until this war be through, and then you will spend the rest of your days as nothing more than a.." she had to raise his voice louder as Discord and her warriors had already began their retreat "..COMMON INN SLAVE!"
Discord set her teeth, and nearly remained silent as she went, indignation bordering on disbelief at her words, but she could hardly contain the fervor that coursed through her, eyes narrowing as she spurned the horse into a gallop away from the slowly dying chaos of the battle.
Now, in that large tent, amidst the momentary stun that briefly pulsed through her at the sight of her, the General spoke first. Raising her attention from the papers before her, she set her gaze upon Discord, perhaps the faintest touch of a smile lingering upon her lips. "I have good news...and I have bad news. First, the good news is that your tribe has chosen to formally join with the Empire, so that means your little unit can fight for the winning side for once."
"Lies.." Discord hissed beneath her breath, stepping forward around a large, low table likely used to study battle maps and develop tactics, to the center of the tent even as her anger began to seeth.
"The bad news however, for you, is that there has been a stipulation placed upon your tribes joining, and that stipulation is...you." There was a particularly pleased glint in the gold hued eyes of the General.
"Enough of this. Your lies break the covenant of this parlay...now we shall fill this tent with blood.." A brief whispered word of arcane magic sent the message spell out to those members of her unit who surrounded the encampment, hidden within the foliage of the forest, her hands darting upward to loosen the shortswords at her back, only to find them suddenly immovable, sealed with the grip of the hands of each of her warriors at her either side, her hands inches away from the grips of her blades. Stunned, shocked, her features twisted side to side from one warrior to the other in disbelief, but neither would look at her.
"Now, now...it's not as bad as you may think. You have a chance to escape your fate. Perhaps I should allow your esteemed elder to explain.." and the dark elf's hand would lift in a gesture towards the door flaps where the elder that Discord had always respected most stepped through, and behind him, the line of the members of her unit, filling in slowly to line the outer walls of the tent. The elder stepped past Discord, near to the General's desk, and turned to face her. "I am so sorry it had to be done this way, Discord, but they simply would not accept our allegiance with the Empire unless we gave you up as sacrifice." There was a pause of silence, Discord's jaw set tight as her gaze watched the elder wide-eyed.
"However..." There seemed to be hope in the Elder's tone. "We were able to make a deal with them. You must face a test, a trial of sorts. Should you pass, you will be spared the fate they have planned for you." Just then the General lifted a small wooden box, ornate carvings upon its surface, and placed it on the front edge of the desk before her.
Discord didn't need to ask what fate it was that the elder spoke of, but it didn't matter, she knew she would never accept it whether she passed the trial they had planned or not. She would rather die fighting. Slowly, coldly, her voice intoned "What trial?" eyes narrowing even as the muscles of her slender arms ached and strained against the grips sealed over her wrists and forearms.
The general spoke this time, even as she opened the box to reveal a smooth mithril collar of fine design within its embrace "It is rather simple...all you must do is place this collar around your neck of your own accord, and then read aloud a written oath, of your own free will. The oath is only binding if the magic of the collar works on you, and the magic of the collar will only work on you if you are, at the core of your being, truly meant to be a submissive slave."
She almost snorted with incredulity, but the weight of the moment kept her silent a moment. She doubted the thing worked at all, never having much faith in magic, and even if it did, she knew with an absolute confidence that she was not in any way, let alone 'at her core' one who was made for slavery and submission. "And if I 'pass' this trial, I remain free and in command of my unit?"
"Yes, indeed" spoke the elder "..that is the nature of the deal we had no choice but to make."
"But if you fail, you will be reduced to a pleasure slave for the remainder of your days, you will serve as toy slut for the Imperial Armies, and when this war is over you will be sold to one Inn or another to serve any who come through its doors." Added the General, whose eyes watched Discord so very closely.
"Unhand me so that we can do this and be done with it.." she gave a twisting wrench of her hands, but it was not until the elder nodded to the Unnamed at her sides that they released her. Stepping forward to the edge of the desk, her eyes peered down upon the collar in question before her hands shifted forward to grasp it on either side and slowly lift it from the box. It looked much like any other slave collar, which she held disdain for, if perhaps slightly more ornate due to the runic carvings that circled its form. Lifting it up before her eyes she turned it in her hands before shifting her gaze between the general and the elder. "Very well..let's get this over with." And with that she would slip the open collar around her slender throat and, breath caught within, would snap it shut upon her neck, its wide surface of around 2 inches fitting snug against her flesh. She felt no different than before. Nothing happened. She almost smiled...this was going to be easy.
The general then lifted a piece of parchment out to her that she nearly snatched from the dark elf's hand. Casting her gaze over it, she read the contents quietly and stifled the laugh that threatened to bubble up the column of her throat. It was preposterous. It would never work. It couldn't. Still, she was quite ready to be free of this collar that even now she could not ignore the presence of, even now she felt ashamed to wear.”This is ridiculous, you know that?” She spoke with incredulousness. “I can’t believe I’m supposed to speak this out loud.” Taking a deep breath, she shook her head slowly at the insanity of all this, and began to read aloud:
"I give this oath of my own free will, to be bound to it should the magic of the collar take hold, and freed from it should the magic fail. I hereby swear that, forever more, I shall recognize the owner of the collar that encircles my throat as the owner of my body, mind, and spirit. I am their property, wholly and completely, theirs to do with however they please. I will always do my best to obey their every command, to please their desire, no matter how large or small, while striving to be the perfect vision of what my owner wishes me to be. Never again shall I do battle or cause violence, even in self-defense. I swear to never attempt to harm another ever again. My life before wearing a collar is insignificant and irrelevant, my name and identity before becoming a slave meaningless. All of my decisions are my owner's to make, and those which they allow me to have will I make in a way that hopes to please them. All of these things I swear myself to before the Gods and those witnesses gathered here, an eternal oath."
She rolled her eyes. There, it was done. She had finished the oath and she felt no different, felt no strange magic coursing through her. "If you are quite satisfied, I shall remove this collar.." and her hands began to rise. Meanwhile, the general held that faint smile upon her lips, for she knew a secret: The part about the collar's magic only working on 'true slaves' had been a lie, one that she alone in this room knew. The collar's magic was designed to work on any who placed it upon their neck and spoke an oath of their own free will, becoming bound to that oath, compelled to follow it, and the more they fought the effects of the magic, the more thoroughly they would become helpless to it as they inevitably gave in.
"Stop." The general said simply, if with a hint of sternness, and though Discord had no intention of slowing down or stopping the removal of that collar, her hands gave a sudden hesitation in their movement. That was odd...but before she could feel the compelling force of the magic, The dark elf general would give her reason to lower her hands away from the collar "First we must test the collar's magic. Then, if you can successfully deny the oath you just made, you may remove the collar." Her eyes looked over Discord quite slowly, curious she had been for so long what that form looked like beneath the layers of armor and clothing. "Remove your armor and clothing." And as if to punctuate her command, a few seconds later. "Now, little slutkitten."
Hands had dropped to her sides as the dark general explained that the collar had to be tested, a sigh of contempt escaping Discord's lips before the moriel's command was heard upon the broad cups of her kitten ears, their forms perking upward. "Fuck. You." It was strange, she had to force the words out, focusing intently on each one.
Even as she felt the sudden urge to move her hands, to bring them to the straps of her leather and free her armor from her body, she held fast, her jaw set, practically growling out the words "Never. Call me. slutkitten!" It was exasperating getting those words out when all she wanted to do was obey, the urge getting stronger by the second, anxiety ever building.
She focused her mind sharp as a needle upon fighting that urge, relying on self-discipline and sheer willpower. As each second passed, her mind raced in circles seeking a way out. I have to resist. I have to. But it quickly became the one thing she desired, the only thing she wanted in that moment. I can’t, I can’t...all I have to do is obey, it’s all I need to do. But don’t you know what that means?!? Her heartbeat began to race along.
A few around the circle of the tent thought they had seen enough, calling out for the trial to be over, one of her most trusted warriors calling out "Discord is the last person I would say is meant to be a slave!" the rest of her unit expressed their agreement. Meanwhile, her hands began to tremble, a deep seated undeniable anxiety coursing through her.
The general smiled quietly, confidently, watching with deep intrigue as he waited for the magic of the oath-binding collar to take over. It was like watching a hopeless alcoholic, a lost drug addict, in the heat of their need try to deny consuming their poison of choice...when it was laid right in front of them.
The Elder lifted his hand to silence those of her warriors, appearing as if prepared to agree with them and put an end to the trial, when Discord's hands suddenly began to move. Something had snapped inside her, and even as she screamed at herself within her mind's eye, her fingers went to the straps at her side as she felt a wash of relief to be moving to follow the dark general's command, that anxiety and driving need dissipating even as she loosened the straps one by one. In the back of her mind, in the pit of her stomach, she knew all the different ways this could lead, and none of them were good. Yet in the moment, focusing on the now, she only knew that this felt right and everything else, anything else, felt unacceptable. It was so unendingly easier to continue going than it was to stop. It didn’t seem to matter that she hated the moriel general, or that undertones of rage pulsed through her emotions, she simply could no longer hold back her desire to obey the woman. Combined with the intense anxiety that had built a very real fear of failing, of disappointing the general, it was a double-edged sword that made it feel all but impossible to defend against. Almost at once, all those situated around the tent, watching, gasped in surprise, light whisperings moving through them even as she pulled her armor free piece by piece and deposited them on the floor at her side, followed by the boots from her feet, a blush beginning to spread across her features.
She stood dressed now in her dark, simple, loose fitting blouse along with a pair of thin dark leather doeskin pants. She paused once more and swallowed her breath. That’s it. Not again. I won’t break down again. I can do this. She did everything she could to fight against removing any more clothing. hands soon to begin trembling once more even as they slowly, oh so slowly, began to reach down for the hem of her blouse. Noo! Take a stand! Hands paused in their movement. She wanted to say "Fuck you!" again, but something deep in her core held the words at bay, knowing that they would not be pleasing to the general, and as she tried to mouth the words they would slowly transform as she sought a phrase she could overcome the desire to be pleasing in order to speak "I..will not..."
"Enough of that." Sharp tone of the dark elven woman's stern tone cut in on her words. "Strip out of those clothes this very moment, and not like some graceless baboon."
That firmness of her tone, the way it demanded to be obeyed, it overcame the trembling, shaking of DIscord’s hands almost instantly as they darted the rest of the way down to the bottom hemline of the shirt. Driven by the sensation of desire, of want, of need to follow the command, the reinforcing words of the Moriel seemed to vindicate those desires and wash away any sense of pushback against the notion in her mind.
The general chose her words carefully "Present yourself in as alluring and submissive a manner as you can. Show your Mistress just how sexy you can be, little slutkitten." That last word spoken poignantly. She was smiling openly now, leaning back in her chair, watching Discord intently. "Oh, and you can leave your veil on. It amuses me" she added
After the heartbeat of an instant’s hesitation, DIscord pulled her hands upward, drawing the simple black fabric of the blouse along with it. As it was lifted the slender and petite waist of the cat girl was revealed, that flat of her lower abdomen smooth, it’s curve a taut vertical plane that led up to the faint outline of a small ribcage. Even as she lifted and removed her shirt, the general’s command seem to impact the blue haired cat girl as she began to rise up upon her toes, an arch overcoming the line of her spine as she slowly began to poise herself in as pretty a posture as she could manage, each passing second causing her to enhance the display.
Up and over her head she pulls the blouse, the modest form fitting black strapless bra that clutched her upper chest soon revealed as the blouse is dropped to her side. Why am I doing this? Her mind searched I don’t know...I just want to. Need to. On some level, she knew it was the oath, the way she felt herself yearning to follow its creed. But in the moment she simply felt the individual desires, the motivating compulsion to do these things.
Next, her pants. It was so strange..she felt as if she could stop herself if only that desire could outweigh the growing driving need to comply. And even though all those negative emotions and feelings and reactions to the idea or thought of following the general’s commands remained, through it all she wanted to obey. Fingers unclasping and pulling free her belt, she loosened the laces of the front.
The silver hues of her eyes lifted to the general as she began to realize the reality of what was happening, what would happen. She couldn’t even find the desire to curse the woman, or lash out at her in rage. Where there had been anger and spite, there was growing an anxious hub of fear of what the general might think, say, or do. But this wasn’t like her. She was known to be anything but fearful. Maybe the magic in the collar is all real. It can’t be! That would mean I’m a natural… She gave a little shake of her head in the negative, seeking something she could express, and as her mind raced she found something. "Please..please don't do this to me.."
As Discord shimmied her hips and pushed those tight doeskin pants down over their sweet slopes and thighs, she would hear the faint whispers all around. "I can't believe it..." it was one of her own men. "Is she truly a.." one of the other’s. "She's meant to be a slave.." Discord gasped softly as she heard Fatal’s voice. Around the room, amongst the twenty something gathered, more sentiments regarding the cat girl and what she was rose until the general quieted them with the gesture of an arm.
"You've done it to yourself." The general smiled, lips painted a purple hue offset from the hue of her hair "If this is not what you were, then you would be safe and free."
Once she was standing in nothing more than a basic pair of black panties that failed to hide the sumptuous shape of Discord’s lush bubble of an ass and a matching bra, as her hands would begin to drift naturally up towards her bra's clasping along the mid of her back, she would feel the indignation, surprise, disappointment, and worse from those of her unit who were gathered there within the tent. The sudden sensation of deep humiliation gave her hands pause, but she had to focus hard to stop them even as her frame faltered in its presented poise, swallowing once as it became so hard to hold back the desire to obey.
"As for what I want from you...let me be explicit.." Dark smile spreading on the lips of the General "..I want you to be the perfect vision of an enthusiastic, obedient little slut of a pleasure slave." she had added the words 'perfect vision' to hearken unto the words of the oath Discord had spoken. Almost as soon as the words finished leaving her lips a change came over Discord. She straightened up once more, pushing herself up as high upon her toes as she could, her balance precarious, taut muscles of her smooth and supple legs twitching and flexing as needed to keep her poised. "And if you make me tell you to strip again, I'll crop your ass right here, in front of your elder and your unit."
With a faint gasp at her threat, imagining acutely the experience of such a thing, her shoulders dipped back further, back straining with its arch while realization of what she was doing poured over her with a visceral sensation of shame. At that very instant that her back deepened its arch and thrust chest forward would the strapless bra be unclasped, it having apparently been designed to contain and subdue the billow of luscious swells that bound forward with its release, that garment popping right off her chest as the beatific bulbs of her perfectly rounded breasts popped outward from their restrained position and began to bob and sway.
She felt a deep shame and humiliation accost her frame, expressed in the deep red hue of the blush upon her features while a pair of tears dripped down her cheeks, breath quavering. Even as hesitation dragged at her, a sensation of deep reluctance to speak her next words, she forced them free. "I..I'm not a slut! I'm not a slave!" There was a hopelessness in her tone, though even as she spoke them, feeling the full orbs of her breasts jiggle and bob and faintly sway bared openly, a deep quiver ran down the line of her spine along with a thrumming throb of arousal.
"Quiet, slut, do not speak again unless you are spoken to." The General stood from her chair, the tall, lean frame of the woman towering over Discord.
Why can’t I cover them? Her nipples quickly grew taut and beaded at their peaks with their continued bared exposure as she felt all those eyes upon her form while she quivered and trembled in that pretty posture. With all these sensations, all the emotions swirling chaotically within her mind, she somehow let slip from her mind the threat of the spanking as she simply forgot about her panties.
The general began to make her way slowly around her desk, eyes never leaving the baby blue haired catgirl's form "Panties. Now." Two words spoken in a way that was enough to cause Discord's hands to give in fully, to slip thumbs into the waistband of her simple black panties and carefully, slowly, push them downward, bending forward at the waist, smoothing them down over thighs before they drop to the floor in a little pool. Straightening back up, with the shame of the moment alive in the pit of her belly, the soft and bare, smooth petals of her sex were on full display, this particular kitten completely hairless save for that on her head, ears, and tail. “Hands behind your back, palms together, arms straight.” Each direction poignant with that hint of stern affect in the moriel’s voice.
Now completely nude save for her black veil that hid the panged look of her features but nothing else, its very presence in the face of her nudity served as a poignant kind of mockery. Her hands shifted behind her back naturally, before she had even given thought to it, to interlock fingers together while she found herself redoubling her efforts to appear pleasing to the General and her eye, rising ever higher on toes, shoulders arching with the way they were rolled back and stretched towards one another, those luscious swells of her breasts lifted and thrust forward, bobbing and swaying ever so faintly in a most tempting display.
The murmurs through the gathered soldiers continued and grew, words and phrases of appreciation at the sight of her undeniable beauty posed in such a sexy, submissive manner finding their way to her ears. She couldn't possibly blush any further, but there was somewhere, a part of her body, that did continue to react. That vision of her tight little pussy was quickly growing glistening with the sweet nectar of her essence coating the tight crease of her slit. All she wanted to do was curl into a little ball at this moment, but she was nearly frozen in just the opposite position, the silver of her eyes darting downward as the General began to approach her. She gestured somewhere behind her and crooked her finger forward "Bring the restraint.." and one of the Imperial soldiers would step forward with a leather binding device, a sleeve of sorts that they began to slide Discord's hands and wrists within, currently loosened laces running up its center.
Discord drew a quick breath and held it at the sound of those words. Restraint? And then, a bit of a panic as she felt the leather slip over her clasped hands and slowly draw up her slender forearms. She had never endured any form of bondage that she remembered outside of a training exercise or two, and wasn't sure how she would react to this one. Once the leather binder was slid fully in place, arms encased from just above elbows to the tips of her fingers, he began to tighten the laces between.
"Lace it as tight as you can.." the dark elven general commanded, stepping forward and raising both of her hands to just gently cradle each full rounded orb of soft, creamy flesh in her palms. Lifting in an appraising manner.
"Yes, lord general" the soldier intoned, redoubling his efforts to draw each as tight as it could go. Yanking the laces downward with each motion to snap and cinch against the leather.
Discord gasped a soft whimper of protest, starting to feel the way her forearms and elbows were being sealed tightly together behind her back, swallowing down the panicky sensation of being so strictly bound. Meanwhile, the way the general held her breasts poised in her palms had her breath quavering. Slowly, those hands would begin to give light, gentle testing squeezes, turning, lowering them from her cradled hold. Meanwhile, Discord’s breath began to betray the tingling throb of arousal that coursed through her form, a whimpered soft moan at the way the general tested and manipulated her breasts at her whim slipping from Discord's soft pale blue lips.