Chapter Text
The Lady of the Market was looking for new consorts…that wasn't something you saw everyday. You had actually believed that The Fox having consorts was some kind of myth, but looking at the advertisement, complete with a noticeable foxglove seal, made it clear that this was, in fact, legitimate. It also made it very enticing to you.
No one working in the black market—The Fox’s Den, as it was called—was exactly in a good place, and you were no exception. You ran with a bad group of people that decided to bite off more than they could chew with this place. When you were swept up, you were lucky enough to not be killed on the spot, even luckier that they decided you were better off being put to work rather than being sold off…at least that's what you told yourself. You did work in the merchandise department after all.
You got to witness first hand how the Den treats its merchandise. People and creatures destined to be trafficked and sold off were kept in good condition, but in the cruelest ways possible. Each is prepared for different potentials, but how they're treated is roughly the same. They're fed what they need. If they refuse, they're force fed. If they try to hurt themselves, or others, they're bound within their already enclosed spaces, some are even forced into isolation. If they disobey, try to escape, anything else? They're subjected to all kinds of torture, to make them truly understand their place.
You feel awful. Every time you see them, guilt wounds up in your gut. Every time one of them gives you one of those pitiful looks you want nothing more than to break them all free. It's also the way they look at you that reminds you why you can't do that under any circumstances. You can't end up like them. It makes you sick to your stomach, even just considering being in their position. It keeps you obedient, and in some ways you think that may be the point.
You never met the lady of the market, not officially anyways. You'd seen her before on several occasions though. Normally off in the distance or traversing the upper walkways of The Den, followed by a small group of people that were no doubt higher rank than you. There was the rare moment that she’d make a visit to your department while you were working though and you’d drop into a deep bow just like you were taught to. Your eyes remained glued to the floor beneath you every time, fearful that so much as raising your gaze would get you beheaded on the spot. At not one of these incidents did she ever address you, though. She never looked in your direction once, or even walked close enough for you to know she was there if you hadn’t noticed her sooner. Why would she, though? You were bottom of the barrel in this place. You made a salary to live in the very place holding you captive. You were a prisoner, nothing more than dirt beneath the ladies shoe, yet here you were looking at a position that would make you closer to such a despicable woman. If you were going to live as a prisoner though…it was better to do so in comfort at least, right?
The advertisement had said to report to the technology department if you were interested in applying, so that was exactly what you did once your shift was over. It’s less of a manual labor place and more desk labor, meaning the atmosphere is quite different from the merchandising department where you work. Sounds of chains, equipment, crying and groaning turn into sounds of quietly humming machinery, clacking of keyboards and shuffling from the various people of the market. The same lingering feelings of despair still hang heavy in the air though. The majority of these people don’t want to be here as much as you do. Luckily, everything is also divided into sections, for the most efficiency.
With the flyer in hand in you wander the technology department, eyes looking upwards at the signs to find the appropriate sector. 8D-3… 8D-4… 8D-5… 8D-6… 8D-7! This was it, assuming the flyer didn’t lead you astray.
Carefully you open the door, relieved to find it wasn’t locked. Inside looks like a waiting room. There’s a desk near the back of the room, with a woman behind it typing away at her computer. At various parts of the room there are people from a variety of departments either writing or reading some paperwork.
You approach the desk, trying your best to seem confident. The lady behind the desk looks up at you from behind her glasses. She’s a cat kemono, that’s the first thing you notice, a calico one at that. She looks tired, yet smiles warmly at you. You feel guilty thinking about how much she could sell for.
“Are you here for the consort application?” She asks, at which you only nod and hand over the flyer that brought you here. She takes it and files it with what looks like some others before standing up. “Right this way, please.”
She takes you behind the counter to another door, which she opens and gestures for you to go inside. You do, of course, and are greeted by four more faces. There’s another member of the technology department, another cat kemono at that. Must be a popular office pet? There's two members of the housekeeping department, not someone you see commonly, but they're recognizable. One of them is a taller lady, possibly a ram kemono, but you can't tell apart from her horns, the other is a bit more masculine and on the shorter side, resembling a satyr or maybe a faun. The fourth and final person is a security gargoyle that’s stationed itself in the corner. All of them are looking at you.
“Name and identification, please.” Says the girl from the technology department with a snippier tone than her coworker, but you pay it no mine, you just hand over your identification badge while you state your name.
After your badge is handed back to you, the two housekeepers make quick work. They take various pictures of you and take measurements of your body as well as having you take an std test. It feels strange, but it also makes sense. Even gods probably have a type, there would be no point in being filthy and unattractive if you were going to be used for sexual gratification.
You’re instructed to talk to the lady at the desk again when you leave the room. When you do so, she hands you an application as well as a lengthy contract and asks you to fill them out immediately.
You find a seat away from the other potential suitors and start with the contract. You’re not stupid, contracts here are more binding than any legal document could ever be, since they’re bound by magic. You make sure to read all of it carefully. It’s about what you expected; a detailed explanation of what this job would cover, what would be expected of you and whatnot. Overall you’d be relocated, considered of higher status, waited on by the same maids as the lady herself, but still expected to keep your manners. Sex was of course mandatory for the position, at any point when the Fox asked for it, which was expected. There’s a number of things that stand out to you, though:
•At any point you can be demoted from your rank as consort, if not worse.
•Your last moment to change your mind about wanting the position will be before you are relocated.
•Before you see The Lady, you will be bathed and dressed by your assigned housekeepers.
•This contract will serve as your only form of consent. There will be no use of safewords or stopping when The Lady is not yet satisfied otherwise.
•You will be provided with aftercare.
•If you are invited by The Lady to join her for a meal or event you must attend.
•The only excuse for refusing intercourse or attendance should be because you are sick.
•If a child is produced from intercourse it is up to The Lady to decide its fate.
Probably what stands out to you the most is the warning at the very end of the contract, in big bold lettering that reads: YOU ARE AT RISK OF DEATH EVEN IN YOUR POSITION, AND ESPECIALLY DURING INTERCOURSE.
So, you're basically being stripped of your bodily autonomy and your dignity and you'd be at constant risk of death from the very lady you're serving… in exchange for a comfier bed, a higher position, to live in what you viewed as luxury. Was it worth it?
You think back on how you exhaust yourself with work everyday, just to be corralled into your tiny room while you're disgusting and tired and even taking a shower doesn't wipe off how gross you feel. You think about each disgusting meal you had that was the bare minimum for nutrients you needed to live. You think about how you barely make a salary to buy mild, often temporary luxuries in this hell hole.
You signed the contract.
All that was left was the application now. Pretty straightforward stuff. It asked for your name, age, position and location. It also asked you to describe yourself…but it caught you off guard when it asked about your hobbies and if you had any features you would consider “special”. Regardless you filled it out to completion and returned both papers to the lady at the counter. With that, you were free to return to the tiny apartment that somehow felt tinier that night.
It was about a week later, your days had gone by uneventfully. Unless you count watching people get tortured, sold and traded as eventful. but at this point you didn't. You just keep your head low and your pride lower. The same routine, the same days, the same hell. Today was different, though.
The first thing you notice when you walk in is the fact that the head of the department you work in is standing maybe two feet from the door. The shock of seeing him is enough to make you stumble to a halt.
Eruca Espinoza-Castro. He's a big guy, definitely taller than most people you've met. He has a southern accent and sickly green skin. You're pretty sure his kind is called Succuids…they're a subspecies of plant nymphs from what you can tell. You've met and seen him before, but rarely did he ever address you directly. You knew how cruel and authoritative he could be. He was sadistic. He didn't come around without reason and the fact that as soon as he spots you he starts approaching you is almost enough to make you shit your pants on the spot.
“You. Yur outta here, yur gettin’ relocated.” He says, taking his cigar from his mouth in order to address you.
It takes you a moment to process what he's said, already convinced that you would be dying then and there. “....huh..?” Your voice comes out as barely a tiny squeak.
“You'll be coming with me,” A lady you didn't even realize was there speaks up from beside Sir Eruca. “You've been promoted from your current position to one of The Lady’s consorts.”
For a moment you stare at her blankly, clearly still processing. Slowly the gears turn and click, connecting all the pieces. Your application…it had been accepted. You were being relocated immediately to start your new position. You got to leave this hell hole behind!
“Did you not hear me?” Eruca has his cigar back in his mouth now and seems to stare you down menacingly. “You ain't my asset anymore, get out of my sector ‘fore I boot ya out myself.”
You weren't exactly eager to stick around and follow on the heels of the housekeeper who came and collected you. She's rather short, with long ears and small red horns on her forehead and she's mostly wearing orange. You feel like you should recognize her from somewhere.
“I should introduce myself while we're here,” She says as she continues walking. “I am Inagi Chosokabe. I'll be leading you to your new housing arrangements, another team has already been sent to gather your things from your old place.”
Inagi Chosokabe… you're sure you've heard that name before.
“Ah…most if not all of your old wardrobe will be replaced, just so you know. I'm sure some items may bring you comfort or something similar, but we just can't have you in things that are so…cheap.” Inagi briefly turns your direction and you see it; the shine of her identification badge. She's a member of the inner circle, like Eruca is. She's the head of the housekeepers, probably the Fox’s personal maid at that. No wonder you hadn't heard of her.
You hide your surprise fairly well luckily and only eat a few looks from others of the market as you're led to the upper walkways of the market. From there you're taken to an elevator and you…go down? For some reason you thought the ladies quarters would be higher rather than deeper within.
You keep your thoughts to yourself during the elevator ride down that feels impossibly long, even if they are incredibly loud. What if the fox changed her mind, would you die for disappointing her? If she had other consorts, would they dislike you? Would the maids dislike you? Would it turn out like those reincarnation games you saw?! ….in how you were treated of course, not the reincarnation part. You knew you couldn't bank on the possibility of reincarnation if things went wrong.
“You seem nervous.” Inagi comments, making you nearly flinch.
“Ah..is it obvious?” And here you thought you had an amazing poker face.
“Just an observation. I'm sure Lady Emine will grow very fond of you.”
You're not entirely sure what ‘fond’ would entail in this sense, but before you can debate if questioning it is a good idea the elevator comes to a stop and slowly opens. The sight that greets you is a long, foreboding hallway that Inagi begins leading you down.
It's so quiet here compared to what you used to. All you can hear is footsteps from yourself and what you assume is other housekeepers down here. The walls are a dark blue color, with a slightly lighter blue used for various fog-like patterns. Fancy looking hangs above you, illuminating the hallways you’re led through. A haze seems to hang in the air around you. Maybe that's because it's deeper in the ground?
Inagi comes to a stop in front of a door that she opens, gesturing for you to enter. The room you walk into is huge. Certainly bigger than your little apartment cell. You're pretty sure the bed is at least twice the size of your own and has a nightstand on either end along with lamps. There's a large wardrobe and mirror not far from the bed. There's also a desk, and a large bookshelf. There's some art pieces on the wall and a decorative rug on the floor, but otherwise this room doesn't look lived in.
“This room will be yours,” Inagi explains. “Other housekeepers will be here shortly with your things, and Lady Emine would actually like to be with you tonight. After dinner we'll get you prepared, you should be ready by 8:00 pm, understood?”
You're surprised the Fox would be requesting for you immediately after you moved in, but maybe you shouldn't be. After all, it was your new job, apparently. The way Inagi says the word “prepared”, though, makes you feel like some sort of meal. “I…understand, yes.” You respond, earning a polite smile from Inagi before she leaves you be.
The day seemed to go by impossibly long. You were nervous and on edge, even in a room that was so comfortable. The new environment, your new status, the fact you were meeting with the Fox herself tonight. It was a lot.
The housekeepers that brought your things were nice enough though. Apparently they'd be your assigned maids at that. A mouse hybrid, a raccoon hybrid, a vampire, and a slime, all girls named Opal, Sloane, Fuyuki and Yar, respectively. You want to remember their names so they won't grow to hate you or something like that, even if that's an unlikely scenario. They sorted through your things while you gave your input for what stays and what goes. Just like Inagi said, most of your clothing went straight to the trash, since you'd be getting new ones. Fuyuki informed you that your current outfit would have to go as well once you got out of it.
Dinner came a little before 6:00 pm, a tray was presented to you with foods you're sure you've never even touched in your life. A bowl of thick bisque sits on the tray, accompanied by red beans with rice and some kind of grilled fish you're pretty sure is a salmon with a variety of vegetables as well. It's one of the most filling meals you've ever had, maybe the most for that matter.
Shortly after your meal, Yar comes and takes your dishes, which you thank her, but Opal and Sloane ask you to follow them. They lead you from your new bedroom to a nearby bathroom, where each tile shines like it’s brand new. You can’t remember the last time you saw an actual bathtub either. It’s already filled with soapy, sudsy water.
When the girls reach for your clothing, you flinch away on instinct. “Uh—is…that…necessary?” You ask with nervousness heavy in your voice.
The two hybrids exchange a look with each other briefly. “It…is in your contract, yes.” Opal responds with a careful tone, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’ll need to undress, bathe and redress you. It’s for security purposes, The Lady doesn’t appreciate when her consorts attempt to…well…assasinate her. Besides, you really should save your energy for later, we will handle everything for you.”
You got the hint that you really didn’t have room to argue here, not without causing an unnecessary scene anyways. When they go to undress you this time, you don’t stop them. You hope that your embarrassment of being completely nude before them isn’t obvious, but with how hot your face feels you can only assume you’re about as red as tomato right now.
Once you climb into the tub the other two grab various soaps and get to work on scrubbing you clean. They wipe off grime caused from years of manual labor and a lack of an efficient shower. You almost feel raw from the sheer amount of scrubbing. You certainly feel clean though. It’s actually quite relieving despite the strange feelings you have about being cleaned by other people.
When you’re rinsed and pulled from the tub they dry you off with what might just be the world’s fluffiest towel. You try to keep yourself covered as much as you can to preserve at least some modesty, but the girls are good at their job if nothing else.
As if right on que, as they’re finishing up drying you Fuyuki enters the bathroom carrying some sort of clothing, which they thank her for before taking it from her. The outfit is then, unsurprisingly, dressed on you. It’s nothing complicated, luckily. It’s actually just a robe that has a few accessories to it. It’s a dark pinkish red with fur at the edges and gold additions. It feels like silk, something you never saw yourself wearing. Is this
some sort of lingerie?
“Aah, Fuyuki really does have a good eye, this color suits you so well!” Opal cooes while gesturing you towards the mirror in the room. She’s right, it does look nice on you, it compliments your skin and eyes very well.
Sloane comes up at your side with a brush and hairdryer and gets to work on your still slightly damp hair. She makes sure it’s completely dry, and it looks so fluffy when it is, probably because of all the products they used when cleaning you. She brushes out the mild tangles still in it while Opal goes to search for something in another part of the room.
Sloane is pushing stray strands into place and positioning your hair when Opal returns with some makeup products. “We won’t apply too much makeup today since you’re going to be, uhm…bedding with the lady. Hopefully that’s for obvious reasons, but we’ll give you a bit more of that cute flushed look.”
When you look at yourself again you can hardly believe what you’re seeing. All that was applied was some blush and lipstick and your hair was hardly even styles, but you look like…royalty basically. You smell like spices and flowers and you feel so…different.
You don’t have long to admire yourself before Sloane gives a slightly panicked gasp, looking towards a clock. It’s nearly 8:00. “We need to finish, otherwise we’ll be late.”
They take you from the bathroom and down more halls. You pass by several rooms but stop in front of a grand pair of doors. Sloane gives a knock and waits for several long moments. When no response comes she pushes open the doors cautiously. After looking around a bit she exhales, seemingly in relief and turns to you.
“We’ll leave you here, go inside and sit in the bed. The Lady of the Market will be with you shortly.“ Sloane explains. You look between her and Opal before slowly entering the room. The Fox’s room. The doors shut behind you.
This room is even bigger than your new one. You walk towards a canopy that drapes from the ceiling while you look around in awe. There’s a desk with some papers on it and a few bookshelves nearby, along with a scroll shelf. There’s another door in this room that you don’t yet investigate out of fear, if nothing else. Shelves are filled with what you can only assume are the Fox’s belongings, but in your eyes look like priceless artifacts. There’s a cabinet with a variety of mysterious bottles inside, a large vanity with a variety of supplies on top of it along with a fox-shaped doll, a table that has a vase upon it with foxglove flowers coming out of it and a large grandfather clock that ticks rhythmically. The walls are covered in art that you notice are primarily depicting foxes or other wildlife. There’s also sliding doors to what you assume is a closet.
Stopping by the canopy, you’re surprised you don’t find a mattress, but instead something that you assume is a nest? The floor dips downward with a few steps in the form in a large circle that’s filled with blankets and pillows. It’s certainly the most formal nest you’ve ever seen…you were told to sit in it, right?
You’re surprised the blankets don’t just swallow you whole the moment you step into the nest. It’s actually quite comfortable, but it does little to quell the coils of anxiety forming within you as you’re forced to wait once more. Your gaze wanders to the clock, which reads exactly 8:00 now. Each tick from it makes the feeling in your gut worse.
You’re sure you were only waiting for a few minutes, but they felt so incredibly long. Finally, though, you hear heavy footsteps approaching the door before it opens.
You hold your breath as she finally enters. The Fox herself, the lady of the market. She enters with confident steps and shuts the doors behind her. A thin layer of mist follows at her feet, steadily rolling on the ground and disappearing when it gets too far from her. You notice her tails—which you've heard there are a total of thirteen of—behave similarly. They sway and flick, but have this almost misty look to them. Sometimes you think they're merging and unmerging even. Her presence fills the room almost immediately. You've felt it before, heavy and intimidating and making those anxious feelings inside you so much worse.
Your eyes stay glued to her as she walks across the room. Not towards you, no, but instead towards her vanity. She observes herself in the mirror casually, as if this is another day for her. It might as well be, though. You had no idea if she did things like this every day.
The Fox, Emine, pulls her hair from the buns that sit behind her head, letting her black hair fall loose. She briefly combs her fingers through it, continuing to observe herself.
She reaches for the nearby cabinet, pulling something from it you can't quite see. Judging from the sloshing of liquid, you can assume it's one of the bottles. When she tilts her head back you're pretty sure she just drank the contents of it.
You're starting to wonder if you really should be here. Did she really ask for you? Does she know that you're here? It's not like you were attempting to hide yourself. Were you about to die on the spot because you naively believed everything else?
Suddenly she's close. Not right in front of you close, just at the foot of the bed, her bed. The shock makes you gasp in surprise. You didn't even see her move, it's like she just appeared there. She's staring down at you with dark blue eyes and…you're pretty sure her pupils are red. It's like she's staring right through you. Fear pierces you and causes your heart to leap into your throat.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Emine asks, in a voice that feels like it's waiting to tear you apart. If you don't answer, you're dead, you're sure of it.
“You're beautiful—” You blurt out, feeling breathless just from speaking. You don't know why you said that. You're definitely afraid of her, you'd be a complete idiot if you weren't. Yet she looks so ethereal. Coming in, going about her day so calmly. The way she literally looks down at you right now certainly does something to your brain as well. She really is beautiful.
You force yourself to watch her face for some kind of reaction, to see if you screwed up or not. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but you swear her eyes soften just slightly, if nothing else.
"Hm.” Is the only response she gives, but it's better than any other response you could've gotten you're sure. The softest waves of relief wash over you. “Come here.”
The order nearly shakes you and you have to compose yourself to not immediately scramble to your feet. You can't help but shake slightly as you stand and approach her. You don't leave the nest, but you stand as close to her as you think you're allowed to from within it. It's now that you realize just how large she is. You had heard that she was over eight feet tall, but seeing that in person was certainly something else. It didn't help that you had the height between the floor and the bed taken off as well, or that you felt so small under her gaze.
Her hand finds your chin. Her hand that's just about the size of your face. The hand with claws added to it that could easily tear through your head if she so wanted. She doesn't, though. Instead she tilts your head a little higher and your lips part slightly. You feel like you're just staring at her dumbly as she looks over your features. It's like she's studying you.
You give the slightest flinch as something grazes your lips. A shallow cup? You didn't even realize she was holding it. Her grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly before the cup is pressed to your bottom lip and slowly tilted. A silent command, which you follow and drink from it.
The liquid is awfully delicate in flavor, vaguely floral and fruity. Would it be wrong to say it tastes expensive? Is that something you can taste? It burns slightly going down. Is this alcohol?
The Fox pulls the cup from your lips once you've drunk all of it, but the smallest bit of it clings to the corner of your mouth. You're very much not prepared for the way she leans down and licks it off. Her tongue is vaguely sandpaper-like. The action causes a quiet squeak to come from your throat and heat to rise to your already blush painted cheeks.
Part of you expects to be punished for your reaction but instead Emine pulls her face away from yours. Her hand lingers on your chin but is soon pulled back as well.
You're left staring up at her with wide eyes. You're still far too suffocated by her presence to even dare to speak a word. Even when she lowers herself to be sitting on the edge of the nest you can't help but stare like a deer in headlights. Even sitting, she's so much bigger than you are.
With a clawed finger, Emine makes a “come hither” motion towards you. “Undress me.” She orders.
Such a command has you feeling as though you're mishearing things for a moment. Could she really want you to touch her? Was this why Opal had mentioned assasination attempts?
“Are you listening?” Her very voice seems to make the air grow colder. Goosebumps litter your skin before you practically leap into action.
“Y-Yes ma’am-“ The response tumbles from your lips and you get to work. You’re smart enough to be cautious with her outfit still. It looks more expensive than some of those new outfits you’d be wearing soon. Undressing her is tedious. The sash alone has to be the hardest part, but you’re pretty sure she’s wearing about three more layers besides that. You hope your trembling hands aren’t a turnoff to her for whatever reason. You still feel…strangely excited. It’s almost like unwrapping a gift and it’s been years since you got anything like that.
The layers of her kimono do their work to hide her figure. Your face feels hotter with each piece of silk you strip off of her. You can safely confirm that the fox is very well endowed with the final layer stripped off. A body you’re sure only a god like her could have. Your fingers vaguely twitch to touch her chest or maybe her hips or anywhere of her skin really. Maybe more than touch…could you lick? Find out what godliness might taste like? Your mind does cartwheels with such a debauched idea.
“How cute~” Emine cooes at you. For a moment you have to wonder if she’s reading your mind, or if she’s just reacting to how red you must be. Your breath gets caught in your throat when she leans close enough so she breathes on the shell of your ear. “On your knees.”
You drop almost immediately, your knees barely missing the bottom step of the nest and instead landing safely in the variety of the blankets, sparing you from horrendous bruises on your knees for today. You're left sitting on your heels. You have an idea of what she wants you to do, but only when she opens her legs wider for you does it solidify in your mind; she wants you to eat her out. The thought alone causes arousal to stir in your gut.
You settle your weight to be on your knees so you can better position yourself between her legs. You reach your hands out to rest them on her inner thighs, but pause before you can make contact. You look up at the lady from your position, trying to read if you were allowed to touch her here. She doesn’t exactly give you much to work with, but you take the fact that she has yet to suffocate you with her aura, smack your hands off or glare at you so hard you die on the spot as a sign to continue.
Your hands make contact with her thighs and you subconsciously give them a little squeeze. They’re so soft. All of her seems soft, despite how sharp and cold she acts. However, your goal lies between her thighs.
Your head moves to be properly between her legs, close enough to wear you can breathe on her pussy, which is already damp with her slick. Did you do that? You swallow thickly and make contact, dragging your slightly trembling tongue up her slit until it makes contact with her clit. She tastes exquisite. Maybe your enthusiasm was going straight to your head, but you’re pretty sure if ambrosia—the drink of gods—had a taste, it might taste just like this. She doesn’t really react but her clit does give a small twitch against your tongue. You do it again, dragging your tongue up her slit and savoring in the flavors of the lady of the market. This time your lips wrap around her clit and you give eager but gentle sucks to it.
One of Emine’s hands comes to your head, causing you to flinch slightly. You quickly realize this is a sign of encouragement rather than a sign to stop. So, you release her clit from her mouth and bury your tongue between her pussy lips. You’re most definitely not the most experienced person you know and you’re certainly out of practice. Lord knows how long ago it’s been since you got any action. Stress made it nigh impossible to get off as well. You hope that what you lack though, you make up for with how enthusiastically you’re eating her out. The soft sigh you hear from above you only spurs you on.
You lap up all the slick that dribbles out of the lady’s hole, occasionally pulling your tongue out to kiss or suckle on her clit. Sometimes you attempt to pull back so you can get some air, but you don’t get long before your head gets pulled right back to where it was.
You learn quickly that Lady Emine isn’t very expressive of her pleasure, yet that seems to just make you more eager somehow. Every little sigh or slightly sharp inhale makes you want more reactions. It unintentionally makes you want to please her further if it means you’ll get something like a moan from her.
On the other hand, you’re sure the sounds between her legs are unbefitting of you. Not that long ago you were a low-rank labor worker with barely a will to live. Now here you are, slurping against the pussy of your overlord and occasionally moaning against it. Like some kind of starving beast in heat. You were so fucking lucky.
The subtle way her hips start canting into your mouth occasionally leads you to believe she's close. The thought of her cumming in your mouth, because of you, has you feeling lightheaded. Maybe that’s also due to the lack of air but regardless you double down on your efforts. You put your entire soul into eating this woman out, into pleasing her.
You lightly dig your fingers into Emine's thighs, but the next moment they snap shut around your head with such force you're almost concerned that she intends to crush your head. Or you would be concerned if you weren't otherwise preoccupied. You swear she mutters something under her breath that you can't quite hear. You don't have time to decipher it though, because she lets out a low groan of pleasure as she suddenly gushes onto your mouth and you'd be damned if you didn't drink it off like it's the last thing you'll ever taste.
You finally pull back once you're released from the confines of the fox's legs, taking in big gasps of air. You pant, not unlike how a dog would. The entire bottom half of your face feels wet.
You look up to Emine's face, who's staring right back at you. Her chest heaves just slightly and you can't help but feel proud in that regard.
“So messy-” She comments as she slides into the bed, causing you to scoot back. You don't get far before she grabs you and pulls you into her bare lap. You gasp when she flawlessly throws off your robe, somehow without damaging the fragile material.
Your brain practically scrambles itself as she runs a hand over your body, drawing a shudder from you. Her one hand grips your hip to keep you still, while her other traces over the sensitive skin of your neck and clavicle. She's slow and sensual with it, her claws occasionally grazing the skin but not doing any sort of damage.
That hand then travels lower, to your chest where it gropes and caresses and runs over your nipples, causing you to jump slightly. She seems amused by your reactions if the little chuffs she makes are anything to go by. Lower again, where her hand squeezes on your love handles or gently squeezes on your tummy and you instinctually suck it in a little. Lower again where her hand runs over the curve of your ass and then drags along your thigh until it settles between your legs.
You squeak softly as her fingers press up against your clit through your already dampened panties. She rubs tight, but slow circles into the sensitive button, causing you to let out a shaky and honestly rather erotic little sigh. It quickly escalates into a gasp when your panties are quite literally ripped off. They were worn for less than an hour and were already tattered. Wild.
Her fingers are swiftly back between your legs and two of them are sliding into your pussy. You almost have half a mind to protest because of the lingering threat of this woman’s claws since you don’t exactly like the idea of having your insides clawed up. However as her fingers slide deeper in, you find that you can’t feel any sharpness or shapes like claws at all. Did they just disappear?
The tiniest whimper of a moan leaves your lips as Emine begins to move her fingers. Her size has just the two fingers inside of you making you feel so full. She seems to be taking a bit of mercy on you since she’s moving her fingers slowly for now. Maybe it isn't mercy though. You can feel the slow slide of her fingers and twitch at the equally slow curling motion they make inside of you. You're forced to feel every single inch and how it fills you up yet feels like not enough at the same time. You feel how her fingers occasionally spread, testing how you stretch out.
You let out erotic gasps and whimpers with her Emine's motions. She seems content to settle at this pace, but you're not. In your horny-addled state you can't help but mutter out a quiet plea.
“Oh? What was that?” Emine hums. She doesn’t falter in her pace.
“Mmm…more..? Please…?” Your voice is shaky and unsure. Do you even have a right to ask for anything more than what you’re given from this woman?
The fox lets out a chuckle that almost activates your fight or flight response. Almost being the key word here, since you can’t stop the way you instead writhe as she picks up her pace and grinds her palm against your clit. The hand still on her hip tightens to keep you as still as you can be.
“Aah—!” You might’ve been embarrassed by the noises leaving you if you weren’t so incredibly pent up. Besides, you were just doing your job here, it just so happened to make a tight coil wind up in your gut.
It’s right when that coil within you is about to snap when abruptly all movement ceases. As her fingers pull out of you you try to chase after them with your hips, but they’re still being held in place. All you can do is whimper and babble out little pleas while Emine simply examines her fingers coated in your slick.
The hand that was on your hip is now on your face, before you can even register the fact it had it moved. She squeezes your face and you’re a little confused as to what she could possibly want, but you end up opening your mouth in response. It seems that was the correct answer since she proceeds to stick the fingers that were just inside of you, into your mouth. Your face scrunches up a bit at the flavor—terribly ironic considering what you had been doing before this—but even that doesn’t stop the new wave of slick that practically gushes out of you. You moan around her fingers and proceed to suck despite not having been instructed to. She seems pleased with it though, since she lets out something like a hum and a chuckle.
Slowly Emine pulls her fingers from your mouth, while also leaning you back. “So good~” She praises you and it goes straight to your head. Your back hits the blankets beneath you and she’s adjusting your hips. “You’re not going to cum until I say so, is that understood?”
She stares down at you for confirmation until you finally sputter out a: “Y-Yes ma’am-“ And you feel something vaguely magical settle over you.
Emine swings one of your legs over your hip and presses her still slick pussy into yours, causing you to gasp softly. Your fingers grip at the blankets beneath you as she begins to grind her hips into yours. You quickly realized how doomed you are. Your pussies are basically kissing, slick intermingling, clits rubbing against one another. It's an almost euphoric feeling. You already promised to not cum unless told to, but you don’t know if your body can handle it after being wound up once.
You throw your head back and cry out into the warm air of the room. She doesn’t seem to be showing you any kind of slow-paced mercy here. Her pace is steady and gives you no room to squirm away from her pleasure. That coil in your gut is coming back and fast. You’re convinced you can’t last. Is that what she wants, maybe? Does she want to give you a task she knows you won’t accomplish? Fuck, you can’t hold on, it’s already too much for you to bite off.
Except that coil doesn’t snap. Even though you know you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, you just can’t tip over the edge for some reason. You’re sure it’s going to happen after every rough grind to your clit. That it’s going to happen after she moves in such a way that has sparks going up your spine. Yet you just feel like you're dangled off that orgasmic edge.
“Oh god…” You mumble out under your breath.
“Mmm, so adorable~” Emine cooes. You realize now that she’s definitely done something to you, to your body that is. This isn’t some kind of sex trick, but instead her directly controlling whether or not you cum. “I chose well this time, you react so well~”
A well timed roll of her hips has yours jumping and you moaning out again.
“You want to cum, don’t you?” She asks you and you nod quickly. “Words.”
“Yes—!” You gasp. “Yes ma’am, I do, p-please— please let me cum—“
She looks down at you with that dark amusement in her eyes. “Go ahead then.”
The orgasm that crashes into you is unique to say the least. You feel yourself practically plummet into orgasmic bliss and you swear you can feel the way her magic has released you. Your eyes squeeze shut and your back arches as you have your first orgasm in who knows how long. Emine’s motions don’t even relent, making sure you ride the waves of it to their peaks.
When you finally start to come down, she pulls her hips back enough so you're not pressed flush to one another. You're finally given a moment to catch your breath, with your chest heaving and your mind still buzzing away.
Unfortunately you don't get long at all. While you're still catching your break you feel something rub against your slit and your hips jump in response. Your eyes open to glance between your legs where one head of a double sided toy rubs against you.
“M-My Lady I… I ne—”
“Ssshh…” You try to ask for something more of a breather, but she just shushes you in response. “You don't need to worry about anything. I won't break you too soon.”
Her words are enough to have you swallowing your own. Instead you just do your best to stay relaxed as the toy slowly pushes into you. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling the way the toy stretches you open. It's big. You're surprised there's only a mild pain from the stretch, really, but it's one that feels good.
You gasp softly as her pussy is suddenly flush against yours again, realizing she must've put the other end of the toy into herself. “Look at me.” She orders, and you haven't been one to disobey her yet.
You open your eyes again, finding her face not far from yours. Her red pupils are so stark compared to the blue of the rest of her eyes. You hope the way she looks at you is with nothing less than satisfaction. Her inky black hair frames her face as it cascades down, past your own into the blankets below. Despite her godly nature, you can see vague wrinkles in her skin and subtle bags under her eyes, as though she could be touched by time. She really is beautiful.
“完璧だ.” She says, before promptly thrusting her hips.
You cry out as Emine settles into a steady, yet rough pace. The toy drags against your still sensitive walls with each movement, sending delicious sparks of ecstacy up your spine.
When she releases your face your head lulls back into the blankets beneath you. You soak up every drag of the toy inside you. The way her hips meet yours. The way her hands slowly drag over your body. How small you feel beneath her.
It's overwhelming, but whatever she had done to you previously is still in effect. You rapidly stumble towards an edge, but something—something from her—keeps you from falling right over.
Your breath hitches on a moan when you feel the press of Emine's lips to your neck. She kisses and sucks at various spots there, you even feel a light graze from her teeth. It's a surprisingly tender contrast compared to the way she's currently pounding you.
There's no warning when she releases you, causing your next orgasm to hit you hard. You plummet so suddenly from the edge you were held on, it leaves you gasping and squirming beneath her, with only her strong hold keeping you still.
She doesn't stop though, doesn't slow down, doesn't give you a chance to breathe this time. Though, as you come down from the high of your orgasm you feel a full throb at your neck and realize she has bit you.
Despite the ever-flowing pleasure through your body, you wonder how many others with your title have been injured or worse because she bit too deep? Why does the thought of her covered in blood—even if that blood was yours—make you clench so eagerly at the toy still inside you.
The Fox kisses over the bite mark she left behind on your neck, as if apologizing for the way she gored it. As she does she lifts your legs so they're pushed higher up on her hips and the toy is pushed deeper into you. You can practically feel it in your guts, like she's trying to rearrange them and leave behind an imprint of herself in every possible way. One that won't accept anything but her into your body. You're not sure if you'll ever come back from this.
You let out a broken sob of pleasure as the goddess continues to fuck you vigorously. Has she cum again? Would she still be moving like this if she was?
Every thrust steadily knocks the thoughts right out of you. It gets replaced with thoughts of her, thoughts of pleasure, the only thoughts she wants you to have.
It hurts, but you find yourself accepting the pain of the overstimulation as further pleasure. You feel her fangs graze against your shoulder and fuck— oh fuck, if she bites you, you might just—
Her teeth sink into your shoulder and you cry out as you cum again, not even stopped this time. You're not sure if she's letting you or just doesn't have the ability to keep up with whatever she has done to you on top of everything else at this point.
A thick fog settles over your mind. Any coherent thought you have is promptly fucked out of you before you can think it. All that's left is swirling pleasure and images of Emine. Your Lady, Your Goddess. It's so much. It's so good. You're reduced to a moaning, crying mess beneath her.
Occasionally you can make out her voice through the fog. She tells you how good you're doing and how beautiful you are and how she chose right. It might just be the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your mind here.
You're not sure how long you're left to Emine's mercy, but it feels like ages. When she finally pulls out of you, a weak whimper leaves your hoarse throat, which she shushes gently.
Your mind is buzzing. Every part of you feels sore and heavy, especially your legs and hips. You're covered in sweat and an accumulation of both of your slick between your legs, and down them for that matter. You take in deep gasps of air now that you're able to breathe properly.
Emine's hand snakes under your back and pulls you up so that you're sitting—a position you're hardly able to hold by yourself.
“Look at you…” She cooes softly. Her hand makes contact with your throat, causing you to flinch slightly. It's absolutely covered with bite marks and hickeys, and very sensitive. “I do like this color on you…I’ll have to find something that matches it.”
The Fox pulls away to grab something that's over the edge of her nest. When she does you fall towards her, landing against her chest and causing her to pause. Your brain is still too cloudy to process that what you've done may have offended the lady. You know that her skin cool to the touch though, in a most comforting way. It feels so nice compared to how flushed and warm you are.
Gently, your chin is tipped up by Emine in order for you to look at her. You wonder if she sees the empty-brained devotion that fills you right now. If she does, she doesn't say anything…she does seem happy though, if the slight twinge at her lips is anything to go by.
She releases you again, allowing you to lean against her for support. You enjoy the feeling of her skin against yours as she continues on with whatever she was doing before.
Something damp touches your skin, a washcloth, you realize. Slowly and uncharacteristically gently she drags it against your skin, wiping off the blood and layers of sex from it. It feels nice.
"You did so well…” She says softly and she cleans you off. You fear you could get used to this very fast.
The last thing you remember before passing out is the softness of fox fur brushing against your skin as you're guided to lie down in her bed again. When morning comes around you'll have some new emotions to work out surrounding your job now…