Quinn's Bondage Assortment

Lined up next to a large stage, just out of sight of the bustling congregation of people. Each slave is nude apart from boots and a collar, each identical apart from the inscriptions. Generals, Princess, Heroes and Diplomats, the ranks engraved into the collar, just marking the value of each one. Each one's body oiled up, letting her assets shimmer in the light. As the ceremony begins, medals are awarded to the victorious, for each one a girl is groped to the edge of her excitement, and pulled onto the stage by a leash. The crowd cheers as the former rank is called out and they are awarded to the victor, each seeing friends comrades, sisters oiled up flesh to be awarded like a trophy. The enslaved queen sees her subjects bound before her, sharing the fate of her defeat, her collar whispering to her as she watches their final enslavement, the guards grope her to the edge of orgasm before she is plugged and lead up the stairs to the stage. She had lost and her people had

you are lead into a small room, someone is already there, thigh high pony boots laced all the way up adding to her small size, a tight leather harness criss crossing her body, her arms bound tight behind her back, elbows touching to force her small breasts prominently out, a tail plug firmly in her ass, ginger braided hair extruding out from it, her head is hooded with a leather hood just her mouth with a balled bitgag between her teeth showing, more ginger braided hair coming out of the back. a posture collar wrapped around her neck and keeping her leashed to a post, all of it in black leather contrasting her pale skin. she fights and moans in obvious arousal, you can see on the wall another set of the same outfit in a larger size and in white leather, clearly intended for you to be forced into.

Sashkay looked around the trees from her spot, everything was quiet as the caravan trundles along the trail, dusk sweeping over as they tried to make good the time. Everyone was getting tired, but the mages had insisted they tried to push through the night, Sashkay did not mind too much as with the small number of guards they hired it was probably wise to try and move quickly through the forest. Without warning an orb sails over the caravan, she just manages to shield her eyes before it explodes in a blinding flash of light. She hears shouts in elven as figures rush out of the forest towards the startled caravan. A few figures pass nearby she shouts out a challenge to them, readying her spear. One of the figures gestures the others to carry on forwards as they turn to face her. Clearly an elf with dark skin, an evil smile crossing her pretty lips as the two warriors size each other up. Sashkay jabs at her with her spear, the elf dodging to the side her short swords taping the tip a

Mara gazes around the room sipping from her drink, watching all the guests in their finery, identities hidden behind opulent masks. She herself is dressed in deep red, her long legs trailed behind by the long dress, her blond hair tied up in a complex bun. Low cut dresses try and contain cleavage, each one in made of expansive silk and long flowing skirts, long legs accentuated by long slits, each one showing off the decadence behind the mask, each one hidden and hoping for arousal later. A thrum of excitement in the room, as the guests mingle and flirt, drink flowing and tease each other. Her attention turns to the staff offering drinks, each one helplessly bound, wearing nothing but a leather harness tightly gripping their body, accentuating the breasts and other assets. She watches them hobble about chained, tall heels clacking as they try and keep drinks balanced on trays, they occasionally moan around large ball gags as they are groped by the guests teasing them until excitemen

General Sylvari looks about the maps strewn across the table in the mids t of her command room, personnel bustle about including her personal command team . Located almost a mile behind the front, the command bunker was busy with relaying and adapting plans following an unsuccessful push the previous day. The room suddenly falls silent as the door bursts open, an imposing figure strides into the room followed by a number of guards dressed in the inquisitorial uniforms. S ylvari watche s as the High Inquisitor walks towards her, dressed all in tight black leather and high boots, a baton at her side. "General Sylvari, for your continued failures of command, you have been sentenced to enslavement", at this command the guards grab her arms. She can hear the grunts of her personal staff as they are also apprehended by the Inquisitors. Sylvari grunts as she is forced face down into the table, "What do you mean, my service has been exemplary, nobody else can run

Looking about the landscape, the wind whipping through her hair. She can see the jagged lines of the trenches below her, the occasional flash as shells hit the ground. Her and her squadron where patrolling, hoping to catch an air raid before they could hit the supply lines. Seeing something in the distance behind the enemy lines, she pulls up sharply followed by her two wingmen striking through the clouds. She smiles as the clouds fall away feeling the freedom, hanging above the clouds as they ark further behind the lines using the momentum of the surge, slowly starting to fall as they head back towards the cloud layer. Bursting forth from the clouds directly above the bomber formation, perfectly timed as she fires a blast into the lead bomber, the hull crumpling as the core is hit. Her wingmen fowling her lead diving between the ships blowing them apart as they start to scatter. Before she could even congratulate herself for the victory a beam zips past her barely missi