The Pillory

You rattle your cuffs. Space-age polymer. You’re not going to break out of this one.

The pole they’re attached to is high enough to hold your arms above your head permanently, your front facing outwards. It’s still early and you don’t have to worry about exposing your naked body to the public yet.

Over the pavement of the street you hear the tapping noise of your girlfriend’s heels. “My stars! Did they hurt you?” A ginger elf comes up to you with a bottle of water. You smile at the concern on her freckled face. “Just my pride I’m afraid.”

She gives you a reprimanding smile, never having been truly concerned for your safety in the hands of law enforcement. “I told you to keep your head low. They’re not too big on human rights, you know?”

You knew, when the human regime had been toppled and the forces of the monster lord had seized power you had known that things were going to change. But it had become harder and harder not to resist that change. Mammano needed human men to breed and they had evolved to get them rather efficiently, whether by seduction, trickery or force, and none were really comfortable about men having the option to say “no”.

So you had gone against your girlfriend’s warning and aided the resistance, only pullign out when things started to get dangerous. Now you found yourself the victim of a traditional mammano punishment for men.

“Is this really an effective punishment in mammano countries?” you ask her. She’s from the capitol, she should know. She held the bottle to your mouth. “Drink up, I know you must be thirsty.” You clumsily gulp at the pouring water. She’s right, you haven’t had a drink since noon, yesterday. “Not really” she answers ” in ancient monster cities they jump at the chance to fuck a man, but in these new territories the culture is different. Nobody really goes for it.”

It made sense, even if the regime had changed the people stayed the same. Perhaps in a few generations, when human births had become sparse and the mammano indoctrination had taken root, the people of this city would be willing to rape a man strung up for public use.

“I need to leave for work now…” your girlfriend says. “I’ll come back during lunchbreak, get you something to eat, okay?” “Okay” you reply and, as she is about to walk away, “hey. I love you.” Her smile is wide and sincere, she kisses you on the cheeck. “I love you too, see you at noon.”

After some time the public starts to peter in. The odd salaryman walking to work or shopper needing something quickly. Everybody that walks by notices you, nobody stops to stare. You try to hide your genitals between legs in various, ways, crossing your legs, tucking it in, but none seem both effective and comfortable. You decide to just go for the quiet dignity of standing normally, like you don’t care about being naked.

When the day starts up properly the street becomes a lot more busy. People are starting their shopping day and the shopping district fills up with life. It’s crowdy but people are making sure to walk around you with a wide arc. Mothers are covering their young ones’ eyes, the older children stop to laugh at you.

A cadre of goblin schoolgirls stops to stare at you, or rather, a specific part of you. Highschool is sexually frustrating to girls, they outnumber the boys almost two to one and the boys have their picks. It’s also when hormones are at their highest and experience in dealing with them is at its lowest. Still, if were seen trying to approach you their social lives would be over. That’s that different culture element.

You decide to acknowledge them. “Hey there” you say the the staring posse. The main girl turns red through her green skin, without saying anything the goblins scamper off. It’s as embarrassing to them as it is to you.

All in all, you think you can handle this, it’s just a matter of keeping your head high and not letting it get to you. That’s when you hear a high-pitched laugh. In between the crowd you see an ex-coworker. The dirt-blonde hellhound is mocking you over your predicament. “Ohohoh, look who we have here! A lost little love-slave” She walks right up to you, you try not to acknowledge her but she lays a hand on your chest. “Too good for the sheets were you?”

You had left your old job because they had offered you a position as ‘motivator’ outside regular working hours, to improve morale. Basically, they had wanted you to whore yourself out to the people you would be working with every day. You were so insulted that you walked out that very day. The morale thing was bogus of course, they just wanted an excuse to be able to bang their employee.

“Get your hands off me.” You manage, unconvincingly. “Uh, no. I think what you mean is ‘oooh, please fuck me. I’m a public use toy. I want to please you however I can, mistress!'” She put on a quasi horny and sultry voice when saying your line. It’s true that you aren’t allowed to resist whatever it was she was planning to do with you.

She flicks your dick with her large paw and whispers in your ear, eminating the smell of burning embers from her breath. “I can’t stay around to play. But I’m happy to see you about to bring happiness to so many mammano.” She skips off energetically. Spiteful bitch.

You don’t know why she thought you’re about to please so many mammano, when it should be fairly obvious nobody has tried to do anything yet. But you don’t have time to think about it, her touch has given you a semi. It’s that tingle of mammano magic that primes your body for sex.

No matter what you think about and how many people are looking at you, it won’t go down. It gives you the aura of a slut who’se hungry for it, it’s highly embarrassing. At one point an alp walks right up to you, staring intently at your crotch, she’s close enough to feel the body heat radiating from her skin. At the last moment she loses her nerve and runs off.

It’s starting to turn noon, but rather than increase the number of people is going down. Normally this is the busiest time of day, for the street to run empty like this is highly unusual. Thinking about your ex-coworker’s omnious words you get nervous, you call out to one of the passing people. A casually dressed man walking fast. “Hey, what’s going on? Where is everybody?”

He laughs at you. “Are you not getting enough attention? There’s a triumph celebration in the city, because of the newly conquered territory. People are either going to watch the procession or getting as far away as possible.”

A triumph, thousands of mammano soldiers flooding the city, celebrating their success, getting drunk. The high ranking monsters would be in the procession, showing off their spoils of war. While the common footsoldiers would be roaming the streets, unsupervised and filled with months of pent-up lust. The day of my punishment had been no accident.

Sure enough, it doesn’t take long for a group of soldiers to arrive. Holstauri, no, wait, minotaurs. The two species shared ancestry but minos were bigger and stronger, and a whole lot meaner. “Yesh!” One of them proclaims, in an unmistakable capitol accent. “Tharr you have ‘im, jusht like she said.” She throws the bottle of liquor she’d been drinking to the side and walks up to you. Her friends are goading her on, but she doesn’t need the motivation.

You try to talk to her but she simply puts her hand on your face and smashes the back of your head against the pole. The surprise and pain spins the whole world around you but you can feel her grabbing your dick. It doesn’t take a lot of massaging to get you rock hard. “He’s eager!” She yells over her shoulder. Her friends are cheering. It’s normal where they come from to see mammano relieve themselves using men in cuffs.

She mounts you, it goes surprisingly easy. Your stiff member slips into a wet hole. Then she starts riding you. Crudely and without technique. In her drunken stupor she uses way more strength than is necessary, slamming you painfully against the metal pole. Despite the pain and monotonous slamming back and forth you feel yourself working up towards a climax.

She leans forward to stick a tongue in your mouth but you pull away. Enraged and drunk she swing her arm and punches you square in the face. It’s like being hit by a beam of steel. Blood and teeth splatter over the sidewalk. You’re barely conscious from the pain but you can feel her sticking her tongue in your mouth again, licking up the blood. Somehow it alleviates the pain.

The nameless soldier continues to buck her hips, grunting painfully, until you can’t hold it in much longer and spurt your juices inside of her. Her own moaning drowns out yours as the absorbed spirit energy brings her to orgasmic pleasure. She grips your shoulder painfully in ecstasy. She dismounts, covered in sweat but keeping her composure in front of her friends. “Who’s nexsht?”

A bit more nervously the rest of the squad approaches you. They’re less bold but by egging each other on and not wanting to be outdone by their friend they start to take turns riding you.

Mammano magic keeps you erect and able to serve but near the end nearly all the pleasure is gone. You’re bruised, bleeding, de-hydrated and filthy. When the last minotaur dismounts you have to blink to get the light out of your eyes. Some distance away you see your girlfriend, her hands in front of her mouth in shock.

The other minos have already been getting impatient, having to wait for their friend to finish while they already had their fill, and the party quickly moves one. Not a word is wasted on you.

Quickly your girl comes to you. You’ve never been happier to see her beautiful white freckled face. “Baby, just look at you. I’m so sorry.” You can only stammer “Water. Water.” You’re parched. She quickly lifts up the bottle to your face. You greedily drink from the precious fluid.

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t know…” She starts. “It’s not your fault.” You say. “But there’ll be more. This was just one party.” She pouted. “We can’t let that happen, you won’t survive another one like this.” You look at her beautiful red hair and her voluptious, yet slim, body. You want to be able to remember it in your last moments. “We can’t stop them. They’ll shoot us both down if we deny the public their right to use me.”

She strokes over your bruises. “The public? I’m part of the public, aren’t I? I’ll stay here to keep you occupied.” Tears well up in your eyes. “Babe. I’ve never loved you more than I do right now.”

She calls her work over the phone to take the rest of the day off. It doesn’t sound like they’re very understanding. “Well, in that case you’re just going to have to fire me.” She concludes, and hangs up the phone. “You’re not going lose your job over this are you?” “Haha, no way, they need me too much for that.”

She takes off her panties from under her skirt and puts them discreetly in her handbag. “Now” she climbs on your dick “let’s just hang out for a while, alright?” Her cool milky skin rests softly against yours. No bucking, no wild sex, just intimate cuddling. A sense of ease washes over you. Everything is going to be alright.

Lost in the bliss of her embrace you barely notice the chilly winds and the onlookers. Together you simply talk about simple things and savor the moment. You talk about things you’ve done that week, or are still planning to do, work troubles, life troubles, what you like so much about each other, how you met and everything up until this moment.

She sighs. “When I saw you get.. molested like that. It was just awful. I never want to see that again.” You whisper back: “I’m sorry, I never wanted to betray your trust like that.” She shakes her head. “No, don’t say that. You had no choice. It’s not your fault.” “But it is my fault that I ended up here.” She looks like she’s about to cry and puts her forehead against yours. “No. That’s my fault. I- I was the one that reported what you were doing.”

Your eyes open wide. “What?” Tears are streaming down her face now, her eyes clenched shut. “You were getting in too deep with those shady types. I just- I didn’t think this was going to happen!” You look up to the sky. The sun stings your eyes. “Then I guess… I guess we both deserve to be on this pole right now, don’t we?” She laughed through her tears and moved in to hug you tight. “Hey, now.” You say, I can’t move in right now, so dry your tears for me okay? It’s going to be alright.”

“Hey bitch, let the vets have a turn will ya?” “Yeah, what gives? You’ve been on there for four hours!” Your girlfriend is grasping you tightly. Afraid of the muscled orcs. “It’s the fair ladies turn madam. If you would be so kind as to wait?” The orc doesn’t expect the man to talk back and droops off.

Nearing six law enforcement comes back. “We’re letting you go early.” Proclaims the demon. She has a business-like demeanor but her eyes dart judgementally between you and your girlfriend. “Soldiers tend to get more violent around these hours, and we’ve already had such bad luck with the other inssurectionists.” Her colleague unlcoks your cuffs. “But I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” You rub your pained wrist and nod. “Well then,” she throws you your clothes. “have a nice evening. You too ma’am.” She nods to your girlfriend and the team flies off.

“Let’s get something to eat.” She moots. “I think we both need a shower first.” “Yes. No, of course. That first.” You give her a peck on the lips. “How did it feel to be an exhibitionist?” “Let’s never do that again. Next time, in the privacy of our own bedroom.” She reacts.

As you walk home you try to flirt with her a bit. “Maybe you’ve put me in the mood right now. When we get home-” You try to lift her up but your wounds don’t agree. “ow, ow, ow.” “Oh no, baby, let’s just get home in one piece alright?” She says. “Alright” you agree.

In fact, it takes you a few days to be ready for sex again, but your relationship has never been better.

20 votes, average: 3.60 out of 520 votes, average: 3.60 out of 520 votes, average: 3.60 out of 520 votes, average: 3.60 out of 520 votes, average: 3.60 out of 5 (20 votes, average: 3.60 out of 5)
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2 thoughts on “The Pillory

  1. This was a very well written story, and I’m sure it would be great for someone into heavier femdom. Unfortunately, while I like femdom now and then, this just made me want to reach for my recurve bow and lance in anger.

    7/10 Inspired me to keep up practicing throat-singing and archery from the back of a fleet horse with the wind in my hair for the day that technology fails us and the mammano must be driven before the horde, their skulls made into pyramids, their most pliant daughter made to lament in chains, and their cities set to fire.

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