Merrie knelt on the ground in front of the wooden plank that made up a makeshift bar. The ground underneath her had been spongy but it had been packed down by the heavy traffic that frequented the stall. The heat was intense even close to the ground. Sweat trickled down her back and neck. She could feel it running down her cleavage and following the firm lines of her abdomen and into the curve between her thighs. She panted softly and shifted her body.
Her shoulder brushed against Bass' thigh as he was propped on the stool. The wood creaked with his weight as he slammed down his third mug of stout with a gasp. “Another.”
The rumble of his voice shook his body and it transmitted through their contact. Dark thoughts, anger at himself and at Kessler, boiled deep in his mind. She could feel him replaying the scene with the bitches, trying to find some way to avoid Kessler's manipulation. He was angry at himself for not seeing what he was doing, but also how easy people took advantage of him. They were stark, bitter thoughts that burned with self-doubt.
“Are you sure, Bass?” It was Fran, an older woman on the other side of the plank. She was a thin woman with large breasts and a dress that showed off her cleavage to great effect. Underneath, she wore comfortable-looking flats as she glided to the back of the stall and poured out another icy mug. Magic glowed from underneath the casks and she could see cool air misting to the ground but it didn't reach Merrie. She whimpered as she stared at the cooling magic, wishing she could inch close enough to feel it.
“I'm drinking until I forget,” he said sullenly.
Merrie lifted her arm up to his thigh. The severed end rested against his heavily muscled and she sent out a pulse of comfort. It sank into Bass' thoughts and eased some of the hardness and pain.
Bass stiffened, then reached down to rest his palm on her head. “Good girl.”
Merrie beamed and her back muscles twitched as she wagged her tail. She bobbed up and down on her buttocks, enjoying the play of her body. She knew someone was watching her, she could feel their attention in her mind, and it added to the excitement of being naked and on her knees in the middle of the crowds.
Someone sat on the stool next to Merrie. She glanced up at the unremarkable man and then moved her attention back to Bass. Fran's customers ignored her as nothing but a pet. She loved the casual way they stepped over her or sat down as if she didn't exist. She didn't think it was humiliation, but it added to the simmering of her pussy and quickened her breath.
“Here you go, Bass, enjoy.” The mug tapped on the plank as Fran swapped it for the empty one. “Oh, my lord count!” She bowed sharply to the newcomer.
Bass looked over at the stranger, then did a double take. “My lord!? I'm sorry.” He slammed the beer down and started to get up.
The stranger held up his hand, halting Bass. “Don't get up, Bass.”
Merrie looked up with surprise. The count didn't look like what she expected. He was in his mid-thirties with black hair sticking up in a thick mane. He had a slight paunch that strained his button-down shirt. His denim jeans were faded and stained. He smelled of sweat and horses. He looked more like a farmer than royalty.
“I heard about Kessler's little stunt.” The count had a cheerful voice. She always heard that counts and dukes were aloof and distant, but Count Blood seemed personable.
Bass' hands balled into fists. He inhaled sharply and held his breath.
“And we both know that Kessler can't get bitches to line up and obey commands. That's your trick and when I heard you were watching, I figured it was your alpha leading them by example. But, this,” his voice grew louder and Merrie looked up to seeing him glancing down at her, “isn't Sable.” He lifted his gaze to Bass. “Your new alpha?”
“Yes, my lord. This is Merrie.”
“She's cute and fuckable.”
Merrie blushed hotly and her tail wagged faster.
“Going to bid on her, my lord?”
Count Blood laughed, a deep booming noise. “No. Can't afford her. And Diffy would kill her before I got a chance to play.”
Merrie picked up images of a young girl covered in blood. She was holding a large butcher knife in one hand and a manic grin on her face. She looked only eight years old but her eyes were ancient, as if she had seen a thousand deaths in a thousand years. She whimpered at the count's memories, the brutality of the girls' violence but, to her surprise, an intense protectiveness of a father for his daughter.
“How is your daughter? I haven't seen her yet.”
The count sighed. “Adorable and sweet as usual. She'll be the only one wearing a black gothic dress so you can't miss her. She's participating in the blood games this year. She's the favored to win, if you end up pulling Tabitha out again.”
Bass tensed.
Count Blood turned and tapped the plank. Fran set down a beer in front of him. “I take it you didn't know Tabitha signed up again?”
“No,” Bass sighed, “but I'm not surprised. She is suppose to be drumming up attention for the auction.”
“Well, your little silfae's reputation has faded since you last let her play. We had a new fight manager and he didn't know her. Despite everyone telling him not to, he put her through the preliminary qualifications again.”
Bass groaned and rested his face in his palm. “I take it she qualified?”
“Yes,” the count laughed. “She shoved his head into the chest cavity of the cowgirl before he finished insulting her. I heard she wouldn't let him out until he peed his pants and begged for mercy.”
Bass shook his head slowly.
“He won't make that mistake again.” The count smirked and drank from his mug. “That is a good cask, Fran. Sell me ten barrels?”
“Thank you, my lord. Day after the fair okay?”
“Make it on Thireday, please. But,” the count's voice grew serious, “I've been meaning to have a talk with Bass.”
Fran bowed and stepped away.
“Do you have a minute, Bass?”
There was a tension in the air. Bass turned on the stool and braced his legs on each side of Merrie. “I have as long as you need, my lord count.”
The smile dropped from the count's face. “I've heard rumors that a number of landowners from my county was responsible for kidnapping an entire street in Franome City. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”
Merrie turned slightly to watch both men speaking. She leaned into Bass' leg and felt the fear rising inside him. She felt him considering lies, a flash of words rising up but also a growing dread. And then it stopped as he gathered his confidence around him. She knew what he was going to say, even as she wanted him to lie.
“Yes, my lord. There were six of us.”
“Well, if you did it, Maddy was also there. You two come as a pair. Kessler has about twice as many bitches as before and Zeb is about a third larger than last year. Who else?”
Bass sighed. “Thame and Padok.”
The count gave a short nod. “Thank you for being honest. Not that I ever had a doubt.”
Neither said anything for a few seconds. Then, Bass said, “How did you find out?”
“Thame and Padok was caught trying to ship corpses home. A hundred and fifty bodies in the back of wagons. Padok was killed resisting arrest and Thame was captured. I just got back from Franome City to try speaking on Thame's behalf, but I failed. He got five years in Abbinkey and the crown took his lands.”
Bass' shoulders slumped. “Damn the gods.”
“You made me look bad, Bass. You insulted me in front of the Crown and put my county in a place I'm trying to avoid. Blood County exists because the Crown is willing to look aside because we hide in the corner like a rat. We are a cancer on this country and I like it that way. Dragging us out in the open is a good way to get our throats cut by everyone willing to turn us into a crusade.”
Bass bowed again. “I'm sorry, my lord count.”
The count took a deep breath. “I'm increasing all of your taxes by twenty percent for the next five years. I also expect that every one your people will donate one week in ten for the same period of time. And that,” the count pointed at Merrie, “includes your alphas, do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord count.” Bass spoke in a monotone but inside, he was sick to his stomach. He wasn't afraid, but the guilt and regret burned brightly in his thoughts.
“I'll tell the others land owners and you tell your people.” Standing up, the count patted Bass on the shoulder and the smile was back. It was personal and looked genuine, but Merrie knew that the count was furious. “I'm done, Bass. Have a good fair and best of luck selling your bitches.”
Bass looked up with sadness in his eyes. He nodded.
Waver clapped Bass on the shoulder again, he had to reach up even though Bass was sitting, then turned around. Without another word, he walked into the crowds and disappeared among the people.
“I should have said no,” muttered Bass. “Everything in my heart said I shouldn't have done that. But, if I didn't…” He sighed. Dropping his hand, he traced one thick finger down the line of Merrie's spine.
She arched her back into his strong hand, shivering and lifting her ass to give him more access.
He curled his finger into her sopping sex and smiled at her. “I wouldn't have found you.”
Merrie leaned into his leg and looked up at him. She felt warmth in his smile, but Haviston's words continued to echo in her head. Was he faking? She couldn't tell if he was lying to her and the frustration continued to grow.
Bass finger-fucked her as he thought for a moment. He pulled out his fingers and brought them up to her mouth. “I should go over to the red side and drum up more interest. If Tabitha is playing, then she won't be selling.”
As she regarded his dripping fingers, she drank in the smell of her own excitement. Obediently, she opened her mouth and drew the thick digits into her mouth so she could clean up.
In her mind, she could feel his emotions flickering through the intimate connection of their bodies. He didn't want to go to the other side of the fair. It sickened him and turned him on at the same time. Something over there called to Bass, but he hated that part of himself.
Bass curled his fingers in his mouth and drew her gaze up to him. “Merrie, do you want to go over?”
Merrie froze. Bass didn't ask her opinion, she was a bitch. But, he was trying to find some excuse not to go. But, even as she wanted to obey what he wanted, she was curious to see the other side of the fair. She couldn't imagine what would be there that would have drawn so much attention.
She let his fingers slip from his mouth. As she drew herself up into a begging position, it tore her to disobey her master's needs for her own curiosity. She fought down the flutters in her stomach as she barked.
Bass chuckled. “You're curious, aren't you?”
Sheepishly, she barked again. When he didn't say anything, she nudged the side of his thigh right below his cock.
“Tell you what, bitch,” he said with a wry smile, “you help me forget about Kessler and the count and I'll take you over.”
She knew exactly what he needed. She lowered her gaze down to his cock, which was only centimeters from her mouth.
His cock twitched and she drank in the familiar scents of his sex. A heat suffused across her body as she brushed the curve of his pants with her lips. As much as she was frightened of the unknown violence on the red side of the fair, she was in front of a cock and she was trained to do one thing.
She parted her lips.
Bass looked down and there was lust burning in his eyes. She could feel him stalling and having Merrie begging made it easy for him to He smirked and his thick tooth peaked from his lip. He turned his head to speak with Fran. “Do you mind?”
Fran looked over Merrie and shook her head with a smile. “Just move to the end, Bass, and give everyone a show. If you pull in customers, I won't charge you for your stouts.”
“Deal.” Bass backed off the stool and Merrie crawled after him, her body slick with heat. When he settled down on the far stool, she was positioned between his legs, hungry and waiting.
She watched with rapt hunger as he unbuttoned his fly and fished out his massive cock. The dark gray shaft towered above her and precum already dribbled down its length. Another tug and his hairy balls spilled out of the opening and hit her chin with the weight of two large oranges.
His musk surrounded her and she buried her face at his base to breath in the smells.
Her body was already burning with need. She opened her mouth and lapped at the side of one testicle. She laved it until it glistened with her saliva. As she lapped, she spread her legs and curled her tail up to give everyone a sight of her bare sex and splayed open pussy lips. Carefully, she planted her arms against his inner thighs and worked her way up to the silken steel of his length.
Bass' shaft throbbed on her lips. Hot splatters of precum oozed down to coat her face and she drank it up.
She was on fire with need and hunger. She wanted his hardness inside her mouth and lifted her body as she worked her way along the thick veins, the spongy ridge underneath, and the dark bump of his knot. She stopped at the thick bulge in the middle, tracing it with the tip of her tongue.
Inside the shaft, his knot throbbed and grew underneath her lips.
Merrie caught his eyes and smiled. She continued to work her way up his shaft, lapping the precum until it stuck to her lips and tongue. She loved his taste and she wanted to get to the source. But, she couldn't reach. Even pulling her legs together, the height of the stool and his length kept the dripping end of his cock out of her reach. She whimpered.
“Beg for it,” growled Bass. He was staring at her with his own lips parted.
Merrie pulled back, strands of precum stretching until they popped. She held her arms to her iron collar and barked.
“Louder, bitch.”
The crowds had grown quiet and she could feel eyes staring at her. A flush of excitement rose inside her. She inhaled and barked louder. Her voice carried through the fading din and the lane grew even more quiet.
To her side, coins clinked on the plank but she didn't dare look away.
“Again,” came the rumbling command.
Merrie shaped desire inside her, to pay attention to her, and sent it out as she barked. It rippled through the crowds and peaked their interest. Silence pooled around them as the last of her bark faded.
“Good girl.” He reached around the back of her head. Thick fingers rested against her neck as he angled his cock down to her mouth. The large head drooled. Precum splattered along the ground and then on her breasts. It left little hot brands against her skin as she let out a moan of need.
More coins clinked on the plank as she mouthed the end of his cock. It was huge but it would fit. She was trained to take it. She took her time and stretched her lips around it, lapping and sucking on the hole before she forced her mouth over the flared end of his glans.
A ripple of noises coursed through the crowds.
Not needing the encouragement but enjoying it, Merrie forced his cock into her mouth. It crushed her tongue against the floor of her mouth and the thick, hot head slid along the top. She kept her mouth as parted as possible.
Bass' fingers dug into her neck as he pulled her down. The thick member slid deeper, filling her mouth with the comforting heat of his hardness. He relaxed and she slid off.
As soon as his glans bulged her lips, he pulled her back down. The thick ridges ran along her senses as he continued to pull until his head bumped against the back of her throat. The precum tickled her gag reflex but he relaxed to let her pull back.
He yanked her back down, pumping the head into her throat and relaxed.
Merrie was burning hot. She could feel the eyes on her and she was being fucked. She needed it and begged silently with her eyes. She needed more. She needed him to fuck her properly, to pound her face in front of a hundred people watching.
His cock grew harder in her mouth. There was a question in his eyes for a moment, then he nodded. Bass moved both of his hands to the side her head. He stroked the ridge of her dog ears with his thumbs.
Merrie whimpered as the pleasure coursed along the new appendages. It pooled in her pussy and the hot juices ran down her inner thighs. She wanted to masturbate but she knew it wouldn't get her off. Instead, she rested her forearms lightly on his thighs and let Bass do what he did best: fuck her.
Fingers wrapped around her head. Muscles bulged and he drew her down. His cock pried her mouth open even further as the head ground against the back of her throat.
Her eyes watered but he wasn't done. With a grunt, he slowly forced the head into her throat. Her neck bulged with his girth.
After only a few centimeters in, he relaxed and pulled her off. Merrie couldn't stop him even if she wanted to. She lapped at his cock head, waiting the long painful seconds before he thrust again.
He grunted as he yanked her down, forcing his cock into her throat. Half of his length disappeared in her mouth. He grunted and jammed it even further. Another few centimeters forced their way down her throat and the pressure built against the iron collar around her throat.
Bass didn't stop. He yanked out of her and slammed it home. His balls smacked against her shin as he tore into her throat.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't do anything and in her helplessness, she came. A whimper of hunger never came out from the thick cock buried in her throat, but the crowd rippled anyways.
“You're leaking,” whispered Bass before he pulled back for another thrust.
She brought her shields back up, wrapping herself in the tight confines of the puppy outfit.
As she did, Bass began to pound her face. He shoved all the way in until her nose was crushed in the thatch of his pubic hair.
She gagged on his thickness and heat, but he didn't stop. With fingers digging into her hair, Bass slipped off the stool so he could fuck her face powerfully. His hips slammed home, driving his entire length into her mouth and bruising her lips. He held it there for a heartbeat before yanking it out. She managed to get a gasp of air before he slammed it home again.
The smack of flesh on her face added to her pleasure. She trembled as a second orgasm rose up. she fought it as long as possible, but being fucked in public by the cock she adored was too hard to resist.
As he slammed his hips into her face and tore deep into her throat, she came again and again. Her body grew hot as white stars swam across her vision. Her moan was punctuated by silence when his hardness cut off her breath.
Bass' knot grew. It was a lump that scraped against her teeth as it barreled past and jammed deep into the back of her throat.
Merrie knew that if he grew to full size, she would suffocate on his cock. She didn't have charms to save her this time. The realization brought her to another orgasm and she squirmed with pleasure as he rammed her face over and over again. She was being abused and she loved every second of it.
His cock surged thickly with his own orgasm. The wet precum flooded her mouth and dribbled down her throat. She swallowed eagerly at it, preparing herself for the torrent of cum that would come.
With a gasp, Bass ripped his cock out of her mouth.
She jerked at the movement and whimpered. She couldn't close her mouth, she didn't want to.
“Don't swallow,” ordered Bass as he aimed his cock for her mouth.
Merrie's tail wagged violently back and forth as she held her mouth as wide open. The first jet of cum splattered against her tongue. The thick, searing liquid swirled around as he let go. He came again, long jets of creamy seed splattering in her mouth. He kept on cumming and soon it was filling her mouth.
Bass grinned and came again, splattering against her face. It dribbled down her nose to add to the liquid already in her mouth. Overflowing, it continued down like a fountain. Every droplet that ran down her throat and breasts was a brand. She shook with need as he kept coming in her mouth and his cum sluiced down her front before pooling on the grass as her feet.
When the last jet finally dribbled out of his length, he nodded. “Swallow, bitch.”
Merrie tilted her head back, knowing that everyone was watching her. She gave them a view of her full mouth. She used her tongue to swirl it around, then opened up her throat. The thick, slimy cum poured down her throat and she came again.
“Good girl.”
Merrie moaned and licked her lips. She felt his seed in her belly, a heated blob of pleasure that matched with the throbbing between her legs.
“Clean that up.” He pointed to the ground. Wet globs of cum clung to the blades of grass.
Without hesitation, Merrie shifted back, stuck her tail high in the air, and began to clean the grass. She felt the burn of humiliation and the gazes staring at her swollen pussy and loved every second of it. She was a bitch and one of the watchers would be her master.
Fran spoke up loudly. “That was Paladin's Puppy Mill, ladies and gentlemen. Bass trains the best bitches in the county and I'll bet my best cask of stout against anyone who says otherwise.”
Merrie came again at the ripple of applause.
“No, Bass,” Fran said in a quieter voice, “I got enough sales. You don't owe me anything.”
Coins clinked on the plank. “I always pay my debts. And thank you for the bump.”
“What are neighbors for?”
Merrie finished lapping the grass and ground. The taste of plant and earth tickled her senses so she used the end of her arm to scoop up the cum from her chest and licked her limb clean. The taste of Bass' thick cum brought a smile to her lips.
Bass let out a gasp of relief. “I needed that.” He straightened up. “I'm ready to take on the world again.”
Merrie finished cleaning herself and smiled up at him.
He reached down to cup her chin. With his thumb, he scooped the last of the cum from her face and pushed it into her mouth.
She obediently sucked on his digit as her tail snapped back and forth.
“Good girl. Come on, let's get this over with.”
She crawled along him as he made his way down the lane, purposely circling around Kessler's pavilion. She looked around curiously, her mind keeping up with his direction as she matched his pace. The stalls were much the same: sweets and crafts, sex and domination. She had no clue what the red side would be like but her stomach fluttered with anticipation.
It took them almost ten minutes before they came up to the center of the county fair. It had been split by a long wall made of bleached canvas. The center of each sheet had Blood County's flag on it. She caught sight of another wall a few meters beyond the white one, but the canvas had been dyed a deep red.
The crowds were thicker at the center point. Merrie had to lean into Bass as they walked to avoid people stepping on her. After the third person kicked her, she lashed out with her mind. The pulse of annoyance pushed people back. She looked up guiltily up at Bass, but his yellow eyes were fixed on the arched opening leading to the other side.
Merrie gathered up her emotions and pushed them out, careful to avoid Bass' mind. It was a simple thought, to avoid Bass and herself. It took a moment to get the right balance but soon they were walking in a small clearing about a meter in all directions. People would unconsciously step out of the way.
Flush with excitement, Merrie almost missed as they passed through the arch in the white wall. The heat between the two walls increased. There was little breeze. Four guards with the count's colors stood in the gap, sweat dripping down their faces as they held on to their swords.
Between two guards, a man sat behind a table with a large mug of lager. He was older, maybe in his late forties. When he saw Bass, he stood up and held out his hand. “Bass.”
The thriban took it and shook it strongly. “Jermin.”
“My sympathies for Thorn, he was a good kid.”
“Thank you.”
“Never thought Grange would take you on. I hope he's not stupid enough to come back.”
Bass said nothing for a moment. “He's won't.”
“Good, though he was quite popular over on the red side.” Jermin gestured to the red canvas wall.
As they talked, Merrie noticed a list of rules posted on the side of the entrance to red side of the fair. They were short and to the point: 1. If you are naked, fair game. If you don't want to be snuffed, don't take your clothes off; 2. No unaccompanied children allowed, period; 3. Consent is required at all times; 4. If you kill it, you bought it. Merrie stared at the rules and felt dread growing in her stomach. She peered through the entrance, but didn't anything that was different from the white side. She glanced up at Bass, who was still speaking, and then back.
A woman walked past her from the white side. She was almost naked except for a rope belt around her waist. The sight of her didn't surprise her, but the determination did. The woman was going to the red side to die. Mixed in with her suicidal thoughts was a hunger of sex and excitement that mirrored many of the bitches' minds.
“That is the third time she's gone over there,” Jermin said as soon as the woman passed. “The boys have a pool to when she actually get the courage to do the deed.”
Bass tensed but said nothing. He reached down and stroked Merrie's hair.
“Bass, is your bitch going to be okay?”
Merrie looked up at Bass and Jermin. Her stomach continued to twist, but she was slick and hot inside.
“She's good.”
“Just keep her close.”
Bass nodded and headed toward the red side.
“Oh, Bass?”
The thriban stopped and turned around. “Yes?”
“Are you pulling Tabby out of the games?”
“No, why?”
“I have a thousand marks on her to win. I'd rather not lose it.”
Muscles clenched along Bass. “No, I won't.”
“Good to see Diffy having some competition again. I heard the finals are coming up in about an hour. The two are even odds to win.”
Bass nodded and continued into the red side.
Obediently, Merrie followed. She looked around curiously as they crossed into the red side. Like the white, the crowds were thicker around the entrance. She kept them at bay and caught glimpses of the stalls on either side of the lanes. There were a few grills and breweries offering wares. She spotted a place selling whips next to one with a large selection of knives and swords.
They continued slowly. Merrie felt people paying attention to her and Bass. At first, she wondered why. A naked woman on her knees was nothing compared to the nearly naked crowds wandering from stall to stall. Then she noticed a subtle way everyone paid attention to her. Even in mid conversation, eyes would drift toward them.
It was Bass' presence. He didn't have to say anything, he just had to walk down the lane. Everyone was looking at her because he wanted them too. Curiosity grew and she tried to focus on the effect, to see how he did it. Her mind's eye refuse to focus on whatever power he was using. Frustrated, she relaxed and continued to scan Bass. She didn't realize she finally found it, her mind kept wanting to look away. But it was there, a subtle mist of power that reached out for others, teasing them, drawing them. It slipped into everyone's thoughts and tugged on their attention.
Stunned, Merrie watched as Bass' magic drew attention to themselves. They would remember him and his bitch, not because they wanted to but because he made them.
She felt a brief flash of anger but then Haviston's magic clamped down on her emotions. But, the psion was right: Bass was a hypocrite. As much as he ranted about her controlling others, she saw how he was doing the exact same thing. He only did it with more skill and without the overwhelming force of domination. But, it was still controlling them.
A scream tore through her thoughts. Merrie gasped and looked around as it continued to echo across the crowds. She couldn't tell if it was pleasure or pain, but it faded after a seconds only to come back in a shrill tone.
Ignoring Bass, she pushed her way through the crowd to a small stall. It was the woman who passed her with the determination to die. She was impaled on a man's cock, riding in reverse cowgirl. The man's cock was pounding in her pussy, but it was the rivers of blood coursing down her stomach that drew Merrie's gaze up.
A second man was holding her hair. He had his hand wrapped around her shoulders as he drew a sharp knife through her breasts. Blood poured down from the cut as she writhed and cried out, sobbing. The man fucking her was holding her wrists as she twisted.
Frightened for her, Merrie reached out with her mind. The woman was brilliantly bright, coming hard as she was carved into. Her thoughts were incoherent but burning with lust. She wanted this.
Merrie felt herself growing hot as she remembered Borias' memories. The wild abandon of one last fuck. It was nothing like what Borias experienced. Instead, Merrie found herself wanting to be there, impaled on a cock as a knife sliced through her body.
The man cut off one breast and it hit the ground with a wet thud. The woman screamed out in an orgasm and sobbed for him to continue. Her wrists twisted but she couldn't break the grip. In her mind, she didn't want to but her body fought the suicidal thoughts that seared her mind. She was going to die and she wanted it with every fiber of her being.
Merrie couldn't look away as the man cut into her other breasts, slicing it off and letting it land between the lower man's legs. He held released her hair to wrap his arm around her throat.
The woman came and Merrie clenched her body with sympathetic need. The orgasms were coming hard and fast, blurring into one bright light that light up her mind's eyes.
It was wrong and terrible. Despite the pain that mixed in with the orgasms, Merrie couldn't help but want to be in her place. She felt an orgasm rising inside her and hated that she was responding to a woman's death with pleasure.
The man lowered the knife and began to cut into her belly even as the lower man fucked her harder and faster, lifting her body with every thrust. The man cutting moved with practiced skill, matching the thrusts to keep the blade steady as he sliced into the woman's abdomen. Coils of guts poured out.
It was too much. Merrie turned away with a tear in her eye. She shivered as she heard the wet smacks of the woman's orgasms hitting the ground. She trembled as she looked up at Bass who was watching guiltily himself. He was hard again, but he hated it just as much as she was ashamed of her own excitement.
Their eyes matched, a kinship in discomfort. Bass closed his eyes and turned away. Merrie followed, thankful to get away but still focusing with her mind's eye as the woman's thoughts turned into an orgasm more intense than anything Merrie had seen before and then faded away into nothing.
Bass entered a large shaded pavilion. It was cold in the shade and Merrie could feel ice magic in the canvas. She shivered as her nipples grew hard and she became aware of her juices cooling on her thighs.
An older man met them inside the entrance. He was holding a silver platter with something on it that Merrie couldn't see from her vantage point. “Welcome to Swetin's Confectionery. Would you like some chocolate?”
Bass smiled and Merrie felt a familiarity with the chocolate being offered. “May I have two?”
“Of course. I would recommend either her,” the man pointed to one side of his platter, “or her.” He pointed again. “I have another platter with men,” he glanced down at Merrie, “if you are into that.”
“Women are fine,” said Bass with a sigh. His cock was growing harder with anticipation and Merrie found herself growing hotter with need. She didn't know why Bass was excited about chocolate.
It came into place as Bass lifted up two pieces of chocolate. At first it looked like two misshapen pieces, but then Merrie realized they were shaped like women in the throes of an orgasm. The tiny breasts were finely detailed, clear down to the wrinkles around the nipples. The labia was carved with more precision that Merrie thought possible in chocolate.
To her surprise, Bass gave her one. She stared at it in shock, then took it in her mouth. She didn't bite down, but tasted it. It was sweet and tangy, chocolate with just the hint of pussy. Surprised, she bit down.
And came.
Merrie dropped to the ground as an orgasm tore through her. It wasn't her orgasm but it was like experiencing a thousand pleasures in a single blast that connected her entire body to her taste buds. She moaned on the ground as she sucked on the chocolate. It was filled with cream that tasted like pure, liquid sex. She sucked at it eagerly, thrusting her tongue between the chocolate woman's thighs. More cream danced on her tongue and she came again. She let out a high-pitched whine as she writhed on the ground. Her pussy was soaked and dripping, adding to the broken chocolate in the grass beneath her.
Before she knew, it was over. She looked up from the ground where she was lapping the last fragment from the ground. Ashamed, she looked up as she struggled to breath. The afterglow of the orgasm rippled through her body, putting her on edge and desperate for more.
The man smiled broadly. “Always fun to watch the first bite.”
Panting, Merrie pulled herself into a begging position. She barked and stared at the platter. Even ashamed, she wanted more.
Bass laughed. “No.”
Merrie whimpered and looked at him, pleading with her eyes.
On the other side of the pavilion, an older woman was talking to a younger couple. “And Swetin only makes chocolate from the finest volunteers we can find.”
Merrie's excitement froze as she strained to listen.
“They are selected both for their beauty and also the sweetness of their orgasms. Our secret process infuses the chocolate with their final orgasm, making each bite pure pleasure. We recommend you only buy a small amount, though, and spread it out over the weeks. If kept cold, each piece will keep their sexual wonder for months. A perfect pick-me-up after a day of hard work.”
Bass' eyes twinkled. “Still want one?”
Merrie stared at him in shock. She had just eaten someone and came from it. Sweat prickled her brow as she fought with the disgust and the pleasure she got out of it. Gulping, she gave up and wagged her tail. She barked.
“Okay, one more?”
Panting, Merrie stared with rapt attention as the man handed a different piece to Bass. It was a curvier woman but still caught in the middle of an orgasm. Merrie opened her mouth and whimpered, begging.
Bass broke it in half. The white cream dribbled down his finger before he set the top half of the woman in Merrie's mouth.
Merrie savored the orgasm that rose up inside her, tickling her insides as the pure pleasure coursed through her veins. She shook as she tried not to cry out and her iron collar tapped against her skin with her efforts.
Bass swallowed his piece and nodded. “Thank you. I'm glad to see you back at the fair. Hopefully you'll come next year too.”
Even though he spoke calmly, his cock strained against his pants. Merrie wanted to rip off his jeans and fuck him right then and there, but she could barely crawl after him as he left. Her knees were weak and her thighs soaked with her juices.
Outside, the heat was overwhelming compared to the magical coolness. She panted to breathe.
“I love that place,” sighed Bass.
Merrie knew that if she ever had the chance, she was going to buy as much as she could. Still trembling, she followed after Bass as he headed over.
They had to stop when the crowds parted. Merrie ducked between the legs of a woman and peered into the gap. She wondered if it was the count but it wasn't. Instead, it was a woman walking backwards. Her skirt flared around her ankles as she gestured for a large pack of naked women to follow her.
The women were all large breasted and blonde. They giggled as they bounced against each other with a casual playfulness. One was stroking pussy as she walked and others were kissing, but otherwise they were following with rapt attention.
Remembering the sign, Merrie wondered if they knew they were going to die. She reached out with her mind to feel their excitement.
She felt nothing.
Surprised, she focused her attention on the masturbating one. It was like reading Fucker. There was no mind behind the bright blue eyes that looked around with all the innocence in the world. Not even her orgasm, which was loud and wet, showed up in Merrie's mind. Frowning, she pushed her way to the edge and stared at the group of two dozen women as they passed.
They had no minds but they were human, they had to be.
“Those are meat girls,” said Bass as he walked up. “Bred to be slaughtered.”
Merrie frowned and glanced at him, then back to the women. Their taut buttocks flashed as they continued down the lane. Moments later, the crowd swallowed up the gap they left.
“Rendi hates them. They are like Fucker, I guess. No mind in their heads. They aren't evil or good, just… cows. Most of those are probably two year old-”
Merrie gasped and stared at the direction they passed. All of them looked like they were in their twenties. She struggled with her preconceptions and Bass' words.
“I don't mind them. They are soft, but I like a head when I fuck someone. But, there is a steady market for cannibals here and these fit the bill. They are nothing but animals that look like women.”
“And,” said Maddy as she walked up, “they are very good business.”
“Hello, Maddy.”
“Well met, Bass. What do you think of my lovelies?”
“Those were yours?”
Maddy nodded. The woman was wearing clean jeans and a button down shirt. She had her hair up. But, she looked completely different than every time Merrie saw her. She expected to see blood on Maddy, but the older woman had a rugged beauty. “Last year's herd. Next year will be twice as big. I'll probably have about a hundred head in total.”
“Breeding going well?”
“Aye. Aye.” Maddy looked down at Merrie. “Good to see you are sane still. How as Fucker?”
Merrie's memories rose up. She was dominated by the mindless beast and even now she wanted to be back in front of him, with him fucking her face with brutal, selfish thrusts.
Maddy chuckled. “Aye, that is the response I usually get. Is he okay?” she asked Bass with sudden interest. “You didn't hurt him, did you?”
“Yes. There is a new guy, Haviston, and Fucker is taking a nap.”
“A nap? He hasn't slept in years.”
“He is now.”
“Oh,” Maddy let out a soft sigh, “I'm glad to hear that. Do you mind if I pick him up on the way home? I think some of my breeders are missing him.”
“Of course. Did you talk to the count?”
Maddy sighed and stepped around Merrie to leaned into Bass' shoulder. Her head rested on his muscular arm. “Do you mean did I get spanked by the count for that stupid deal we made?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty percent.” Maddy groaned, “That's going to kill any profits I made.”
“I'll give you some of Merrie's proceeds.”
Merrie shivered at the reminder that she was going to be sold. She rubbed her thighs together, the moisture reminding her of her shameful orgasm from the chocolate and the excitement of watching the woman die.
“You don't have to do that, Bass.”
Bass thought for a moment. “I was renting Fucker. I owe you for weeks for his services. Let's say ten percent of my take, after taxes.”
Maddy chuckled and kissed Bass' arm. “You're a good man, Bass.”
She looked around before she spoke again. “I better hurry up. There is a speed gutting contest and Lord Dolcetin's man is in fine form.”
Bass shuddered.
“Don't worry, you don't have to watch.”
“Good.”
“But, you should probably check out Tabby. She made it to the final round.”
“Diffy too?”
“Of course. That little girl scares the shit out of me.”
Letting out a long sigh, Bass said, “I suppose. I take it you bet on Tabby?”
“Of course. Six hundred marks.”
“What if she loses?”
“She's Tabitha.” And without another word, Maddy stepped into the crowd.
Bass watched her for a long moment before he spoke. “I hate that they bet on violence, even with meat girls.” He looked down. “Do you want to watch?”
Merrie thought for a moment, and then nodded.
“Come on. It's this way.”
It didn't take long for them to reach the far end of the red side. It was blocked of into a large arena, surrounded by hundreds of cheering people. Nearly naked men and women wandered through the crowds, selling foot and drinks. Toilet girls crawled after them, offering their mouths to anyone who needed them.
The air was brimming with excitement and lust. There were slaves fucking and being fucked on the ground and along the almost ignored benches. Almost everyone else was standing up and cheering.
Merrie watched with curiosity, but she couldn't see the arena once they were in the crowds. She pushed back at the press of people to give them space, but even with her magic, she couldn't force more than a quarter meter space around them.
Bass led them to the front where a wooden wall had been erected. He looked around, then gestured toward the end of a bench. There was a man sitting there with a bag on each side of him.
Stopping in front of him, Bass bowed. “Excuse me, could I put my bitch on the end?”
The man glared at Bass. “I'm holding these seats for friends. They'll be right back.”
He was lying. Merrie could feel it in the stranger's thoughts. He was simply using the bags to carve out a space in the crowds.
Bass tried again, his presence reaching out for the stranger. “Please, just for the next match.”
“I'm. Holding. These. Seats,” declared the man.
A familiar voice spoke up. “You can't hold seats here.”
Merrie turned to the count as the man walked up.
The stranger rolled his eyes, but didn't look away from Bass. He clutched his bags. “I can do whatever I want.”
“Really? I thought it was against those rules,” asked the baron as he came around. He pointed to a sign with rules. The first one was “Don't be a dick,” but the middle one was “No reserved seats.”
“Well, who are you to stop me?” The man obviously didn't know who he was talking to.
“Oh,” the count started, “someone of minor note. Could you please move?”
“No.”
“Daddy!” screamed a little girl as she burst out of the crowd. She was wearing a black frilly dress with red embroidery. She had red ribbons in her curly, black hair. Her dress shoes tapped on the ground as she flung herself and wrapped her arms around the count's leg. It was Diffy from the count's memory.
The stranger paled.
Merrie stared at the girl. For all her innocent appearance, there was something vile about her. It clung to her like a cloud, a dark cloud of some violent storm. When the girl glanced at Merrie, her eyes were red with black pupils that seemed to suck in the light. Merrie tried to look away, but couldn't. The girl, maybe eight years old, had eyes of some ancient evil and she could hear whispers rising in the back of her mind.
A whine escaped Merrie's throat. She clenched and tried to move, but couldn't. She was trapped and the voices grew louder in her head.
Relief came when Bass dropped his hand on her head. A cool wave washed over her and broke the rapture.
The little girl looked around. “Are you going to sit up front, daddy?” She had an innocent voice that gave no hint to the malevolence in her eyes.
“Not this time, sugar. I want to sit with Bass and watch you.”
Diffy beamed at Bass, but it was a smile as false as her appearance.
Protective energies rose up around Bass, a golden color flickering on the edge of Merrie's vision. It wrapped around the both of them.
The little girl closed her eyes as she smiled. Then she looked pointedly at the stranger clutching his bags. “Move,” she commanded with a girl-like enthusiasm.
The man gulped and peed his pants.
An adorable frown crossed Diffy's face. She pointed at him and a huge butcher knife appeared in her tiny palm. The black blade shimmered in the light as she pointed it straight for his throat. “Move,” she repeated.
There was a brief scramble and the bench emptied. So did every bench around them.
Diffy sat her father down. “Now, daddy, be sure to cheer for me when I beat the nasty old silfae.” Spinning around, she bounded around the edge of the arena. The crowds melted around her, people scrambling to get away from the sweet, innocent girl with a demonic mind.
“Isn't she beautiful?” whispered the count.
“A darling,” Bass said in a flat voice. His body still flickered with protective energies and Merrie was glad for his contact.
She held herself against him until Bass sat down. Then she crawled up on the bench and peered into the arena. It was large, about thirty meters across. The ground was a thick soup of mud and blood. Pieces of bodies were half covered in the reddish gore at the bottom. She felt sick with anticipation but burning with curiosity.
“She's going to win,” said Diffy's father, his eyes glazed over with his love for his daughter. It felt wrong to Merrie, like a love forced on much like the collar was inflicted on the bitches.
Bass' hands tightened on Merrie. Merrie looked up and Bass shook his head. When she looked at him curiously, Bass leaned over. “Sometimes, you must choose between two….” He didn't finish the sentence, but Merrie knew what he meant. He knew that Diffy was evil.
In the arena, handlers opened gates and began to herd two dozen meat girls into the center. The naked women giggled and bounced around, spreading out as they looked around with dull, thoughtless eyes. Merrie stared at them with fascination, trying to feel some flickering of thoughts but finding none.
Her attention was pulled away when someone approach. The benches around them were still cleared from Diffy's command but the newcomer didn't seem to notice. He was also wrapped in magic, gold and black wrapped around his mind and body in a thick cloak. Merrie turned to watch him approach.
He was older, maybe in his fifties, but in good shape. He had a hard body and no softness that came with age. His black hair had a streak of white in it and the streak continued into the short-cropped beard that darkened his chin. She noticed he had a gauntlet on his left hand, but his right had was bare except for a single golden band.
The man walked right up to Merrie. Her heart pounded faster as he reached up and cupped her chin. There was no resisting his silent command as he tilted her head back and inspected her.
With their physical contact, she reached out for him but encountered a hard, unyielding shield. Her eyes widened as she tried to probe it but found it resistant to even her talents.
The man nodded with approval but didn't release her. He looked at Bass who was looking into the arena. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
Bass stiffened. His hands clenched into fists. He turned around with a scowl etched on his face. There was fear and anger in his yellow eyes as he slowly stood up.
Count Blood gasped and spun around. “Count Rakin?” He stood up and held out his hand. “When did you show up, Mard?”
Mard Rakin smiled and shook Waver's hand firmly. “Well met, Waver. Just a few hours ago, actually. It was quite a distance to travel.” He spoke in a rough voice, almost a growl.
Bass was furious. He stepped back and reached out with his hand, fingers splayed out as he was about to grab something. Energy wavered around him as he focused on Rakin.
Bass was chained to a pole in the middle of the mill yard. His entire body ached from the cuts and bruises that covered his body. Someone had stabbed him in the gut, but he had hours before he died. If he could just get to Rendi in time. His chest burned from the whip slashes that Rakin had personally laid across his skin. A thousand lashes for punching Rakin when the count demanded Sable back.
Rakin's army had won, but they managed to kill hundreds before they were overwhelmed. The triumph was a tiny flicker of hope against the despair that wracked his body. It hurt more than the sword cuts, cuts, and all his injuries.
In front of him, where Bass couldn't look away, Rakin had pinned one of Bass' bitches, Over-Stuffed Cunt, to the ground as he rammed his sword into her pussy with hard, brutal strokes. Blood and gore poured out from the gaping opening. She was screaming and reaching out for Bass, but he couldn't save her. He could only watch as the blade came out of her stomach in a burst of blood and a flash of enchanted steel.
But the count didn't stop. He continued to ram the hard harder into her, until his fist was covered and blood puddled on the ground.
Bass had broken a promise and he could feel his world crumbling around him. It hurt to breathe but he couldn't look away, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the bitch who begged him to end it all.
“Good to see you again, Bass,” said Rakin in a silky, cruel voice. “It's been fifteen years, hasn't it?”
“Why are you here?” snapped the thriban.
“Why do you think?” Rakin's finger lifted Merrie's chin. She felt exposed and vulnerable, her throat bared to whatever horrors that burned in Rakin's mind. Fear ran along her veins and her skin prickled. She could feel Bass' memories against her mind, pounding at her with images of torture and rape.
“You can't have her.”
“Really?” Rakin smiled. “I thought it was an auction. Whoever has the money gets your precious alpha, is it? Of course, one would hope,” he paused and forced Merrie's chin higher, “that this one won't run away from her true master.”
Bass stood in front of four bitches, the results of his last trip to Franome City. They were almost trained and he loved the sight of their cropped, beautiful bodies. With a bark, he ordered them to spin around. All of them did, but Titty Fuck was a little sluggish. He would have to give her some additional training. His cock grew harder as he imagined her on the bed, fucking her until she cried out. He couldn't pound her like he wanted to, but his imagination let out enjoy the release he could never enjoy again.
(Master?) It was Sable, her voice exhausted and tired.
Bass froze in mid-word. He thought he would never hear that voice again. He spun around as he felt the connection between them growing again. She was outside the door, struggling to get up the stairs.
Abandoning his command, he spun on his heels and sprinted for the door.
Tabitha looked up with curiosity. “What's going-” but her word ended when Bass slammed open the great hall door and then the front door.
Bass stopped as if he was axed when he saw Sable crawling up the stairs. She was cut and bruised, covered in dirt and scratched. Her black hair was tangled with knots and mud. He threw himself down the stairs to swoop her up, holding her tight and tears in his eyes.
(I couldn't stay. I had to come back. I had to. I love you, master. I love you more than life itself.)
“Of course,” Rakin continued as Merrie fought her own tears, “I'm sure that if this alpha runs away, you'll properly compensate for the loss.” Rakin focused his eyes on Merrie who looked back.
Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at him, fighting the intense memories that tore through her.
Outside of her vision, a cheer rose up from what was happening in the arena. The fresh stench of blood washed over her.
“Though, bitch,” Rakin's voice grew deeper, “I'll make sure you won't be running to Bass. I'm not as gentle as his pet wolf, but I think you'll find I can be quite inventive to prevent you from ever running away.” His mind opened up, just a crack, as he gave her a peek at her intentions.
Merrie was on the ground, curled up in pain. Her legs had been torn out their sockets and the bloody holes still burned against her senses. She had a collar around her neck. It rested heavily on her neck, but it didn't move when she did. Instead, it was fused to the spine behind her neck. There was no way she could ever escape, even if she wanted to.
He had planned this for years, even though he didn't know Merrie would ever exist. The raw hatred he felt for Bass was palatable. It wrapped around her heart and she sobbed as it battered her mind. She lost control of her bladder and hot urine poured out along the bench.
“Don't touch her!” snapped Bass. His hand smacked away Rakin's as he interposed his bulk between Merrie and the count. The air shimmered around him as he prepared to summon his armor and sword.
“Hitting a count,” Rakin said with a grin, “doesn't that carry the death penalty?”
Bass growled.
A second wave of cheer rose up. No one was paying attention to Bass or the counts. Merrie sobbed as she tried to force the image of her head but Rakin's hatred had burned it into her mind. She kept running through it, imagining herself on the ground and utterly helpless. She wasn't turned on, she was terrified.
“But,” Rakin said with a start. “If I kill you, then you won't be selling me your alpha.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Count Blood spoke up. “Bass, Mard, please. Not here.”
“Of course not. I said my peace fifteen years ago,” Rakin chuckled. It sounded like he was talking over his shoulder as he walked away. “I think I'll enjoy what Blood County has to offer. I heard it has a killer auction.”
A man yelled out over the arena. “And the winner is… Tabitha by one kill!” A cheer drowned out anything else.
Merrie stared at Bass's back. Her master's anger and hatred was overwhelming as he continued to stare at Count Rakin. But, no matter how bright his emotions seared her senses, Merrie couldn't tear her thoughts away from the torture that Rakin had in mind for her. She lowered her head and stared down at her own pee dribbling off the bench.
Terrified, she began to cry.