The General

General Sylvari looks about the maps strewn across the table in the midst 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.

Sylvari watches 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 this sector better" she squirms in the guards grip. The Inquisitor glares at her, "I am here for your enslavement, nothing more" as she gestures to the guards, a blue gag is forced into her mouth and buckled, she humphs a protest her body shivering as it is locked in place, knowing the blue ball marks her as property of the Empire now, shocked at how quickly this had happened.

She is held in place and forced to watch as her personal command is stripped of their uniforms and forced into tight corsets and thigh boots, before being shackled and gagged. She watches as each one is collared to helpless moans as the rest of the command centre watches on, clearly enjoying the show. How could this had happened, she was always able to read the battle, an unparalleled attacker. The current war was more like a siege, nobody was making progress, but just one mistake had gotten her here. Or had it, maybe this was not as it seemed, she had been outplayed, the Empress was always keen to dominate those with skill. The game of power was deep rivalry throughout the upper classes, and it occurred to her she had been outplayed and this was her defeat.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a blow to her leg from the baton as she is yanked to her feet, her imposing Generals uniform is stripped from her body, her helpless nude form on show for everyone. A corset is wrapped around her torso, being tightened until breathing is a struggle, her breasts bulging and displayed, thigh boots are pulled onto her legs and finally her limbs are shackles together. She snorts and struggles in defiance, achieving nothing more than the jingling of her chains and the bouncing or her breasts.

With a smile the Inquisitor shows off a collar to her, made of silver it has inscribed "General Sylvari", the fine lettering donates her past allegiance. It is fastened around her neck, fitting perfectly. As it clicks home she feels a fog slithering into her mind, she lets out a moan as arousal washes over her, the hopelessness of her situation starting to excite. The Inquisitor removes the badge of Valour from Sylvari's uniform stringing it along a chain and hanging it around her neck, letting it hang between the once General's exposed breasts, initialising a shudder as she knows it is just to show her off as a more exotic slave.

General Sylvari and her personal command are lead from the bunker in chains, on full view of the garrison as they are lead to a truck and forced to stand in line, at the back Sylvari can just make out others already inside. She squirms in frustration as she hears someone at the front moan before bing pulled into the trucks and secured in place, her thoughts wonder to who outplayed her, and how her own subordinates had fallen with her. Pulled into place at the front she finds a glass vagina plug pushed into her, the guard wriggles it inside her before letting her get pulled into the truck. She suddenly recognises the others inside, officers of the enemy, her captives, her victories. Here she was next to them, someone else's victory, the fog in her mind shows her the excitement in being a conquest herself, she has no choice but to moan. The guards force her into a seat, a plug built into it sides inside making her grunt in surprise, she is shackled in place before the doors are closed. As the truck drives off, bumping over the dirt track, all she can do it moan in arousal with the others as she contemplates her fate.