“The most important part about a drelruned soldier is not the quality of the rune but more so the speed at which they can be charmed,” Leonita said, popping a Doljenberry in her beak, “Quality is irrelevant. The only memories that must be maintained are those of battle and even then the drelruned subjects are typically used liberally and are often the first casualties in a battle. Given swords and told to run at the enemy like a sort of shock troop.”
The wooden couch creaked under Leonita’s weight, but supported Nencia just fine. The pair sat close to each other, snacking on berries as they chatted. Leonita’s arm laid across the backrest of the couch behind Nencia. The pair were wearing their high mother robes, pitch black fabric trailing to their shins with dark blue neckpieces loose around their collarbones.
“Why can you not just charm them right away?”
“The rune needs time to settle before a full charm is placed on the subject. Weaning them on smaller invocations and charms is advisable as to not damage their memory or other such mental functions,” Leonita raised a hand in front of her friend, “High level supplicants; as in things that do not deeply affect your servant. Low level charms that fundamentally change a servant should come later, provided one does not want to damage their servant.”
Nencia nodded. She only knew high level Drelrune supplicants, so that was not a problem. She felt she was decent at them, but found it frustrating that she could not apply the supplicants at a similar rate to her companions. Nencia had risen to the rank of high mother on the merit of her scribe work alone, and while many found that impressive Nencia found it just as embarrassing that she hadn’t touched a Drelrune before stepping into the Arnit monarvent.
“Do you have a military background, Leonita?” Nencia asked, trying to keep from getting stuck in her own head.
Leonita smirked and glanced at Nencia out of the corner of her eyes.
“What gave it away?”
Nencia giggled. Could it be the fact that her muscular thighs showed through her robe? Her toned arms that felt as solid as tree trunks? Her clear and concise manner of speech or her knowledge of military supply chains on top of fast-and-dirty Drelruning techniques?
“You are correct. I neither went to seminary nor did I serve a monarvent before obtaining my title, much like yourself. But I am the opposite side of that same coin— I achieved my recognition through a mastery of Drelrunes and vast knowledge of Nadrebic texts,” Leonita said, “In the military I would practice my Drelrune manipulation on soldiavi.”
“Drelruned slave soldiers.”
Nencia hummed in affirmation. She leaned back and rested her head against Nencia’s burly arm, settling into the couch cushions. She loved spending time with Leonita. The Ronelander would let Nencia lean on her as much as the paghurd wanted, and she was always wonderful conversation. Her strong musky smell was a bit much to deal with, but it was worth it.
“Cozy?” Leonita cooed.
Leonita wiggled her butt to settle in place, “As am I.” The Ronelander leaned her head back and closed her eyes, allowing the salty air from the sea to blow over her through the open window. She was a bit sweaty after her morning run, but Nencia seemed to not mind her sour scent. The butt-sweat soaked cushion probably minded, though. The cozy nook that the pair sat in was flanked by beautiful greenery that hung in baskets and extravagant clay pots. The air was moist with fresh, briney water from the ocean that wetted the pair’s gills.
“Why did you decide to come to the monarvent?” Nencia asked.
“I needed to learn scribing. I was well known for my drelruning, as you are no doubt aware, but my scribesmanship was poor. I could barely write and my handwriting was simply atrocious,” Leonita said, “And yourself?”
“I wanted to learn drelruning. I can’t really be much of a high mother without knowing a bit of drelruning,” Nencia said with a giggle.
“It’s wonderful that we are here to teach each other, no?” Leonita said, wrapping an arm around her companion’s neck and squeezing.
Nencia leaned her head against Leonita’s shoulder and closed her eyes. The paghurd’s soft chitinous body pressed against Leonita’s skin. Warmth flowed across Nencia as the sharp, musky stink of Leonita’s underarms filled her lungs. Nencia hummed and wiggled her feet. Another plus of cuddling up against Leonita was just how big she was. Her body was a seven and a half foot tall veritable brick house of muscle and the ronelander was proud of that tremendous size.
“Speaking of runes— I believe our little plaything is about to lose consciousness,” Leonita said.
“Oh!” Nencia exclaimed, standing from her place on the couch to reveal a pair of legs and a groin that had been pinned under her body.
Two legs covered in short white fur adorned in a black skirt stuck out from under Leonita’s rear end. They twitched and kicked, but seemed to be sapped of most of their energy. Leonita stood to reveal the rest of the body; Ragneta had been laying pinned under the pair such that her body had sunk partially into the cushions below. Her upper body, especially her face, had been completely soaked in Leonita’s sweat. The bajonglet’s chest rose and fell. Her dark servant attire had been soaked clean through, ruined by her captor’s perspiration. At the very least Leonita had taken the liberty of removing the Bajonglet’s service veil such that it would not be ruined as well. Or perhaps that wasn’t mercy, but rather a way to further smother the servant in foul ass sweat. Her face, after all, was drenched with the stuff, it was almost as though she had dunked her head in a basin of the rancid liquid.
“Your ass— hurgh— smells—” Ragneta wheezed.
Leonita laughed, soon joined by Nencia.
“That’s it?” Leonita said, “No begging for mercy, no expletives, just, ‘your ass smells’? We’ve been sitting on you for a half hour and that’s all you have?”
Ragneta coughed and gagged. The harsh, warm stench of Leonita’s ass was still burned into her lungs. It felt like every breath she took was tainted by it— as though her olfactory receptors had been permanently burned with the hot fragrance of Ronelander taint. Ragneta placed her arms on the sides of the couch in an attempt to pull herself up and off but her numb muscles did nothing but idly flail, much to the amusement of her captors.
“I could have shoved your head in my shoe, strapped you to my armpit, made your tongue bathe my taint,” Leonita boomed, “Hell, I could have passed gas on your face, bug.”
Leonita stooped and grabbed Ragneta’s chin, tilting the bajonglet’s face towards her until the pair’s eyes locked. She squeezed the bajonglet’s head as Ragneta winced in pain. It was so easy to make Ragneta’s confidence fade. She was putty— a paper tiger of a stateswoman.
“You’d do well to learn that no matter what, things can and will get worse.”
A few moments passed and Ragneta’s strength had returned. She sat up on the couch and held her head. Her skull throbbed, as did her neck and ribs which Leonita’s ass had also also been sat atop. Running her hands through her fur only reminded Ragneta of just how thoroughly soaked in sweat she was. Sticky and achy, Ragneta felt as though she had just ran a marathon.
A black boot fell onto the floor in front of Ragneta. The bajonglet looked down at it, taking a moment to allow her vision to focus on the thick, leather footwear that sat on the floor.
“Get your veil on, bug,” Leonita spit.
Ragneta tilted her head before what Leonita was asking set in. A shivering body stooped to the boot. It was fucking huge, clearly sized for Leonita. Gods she could smell it. Earthy leather and the cheesy, salty scent of sweaty feet that had been baking in boots for hours on end. She winced as she stuck a hand into the boot and pulled out a piece of black fabric soaked clean through with greasy foot sweat. Ragneta swallowed hard, bottom lip quivering as she unfurled to fabric to find what she dreaded was true— the piece of fabric was her service veil.
Ragneta looked up at Nencia as though the woman would have enough of a heart to tell Leonita she was being too cruel. Nencia just smiled, holding her hand in front of her face to hide her giggling. Leonita’s arm was draped around her shoulder.
“Put it on, or I’ll make you suck the grease out of my insoles!” Leonita barked.
“F-fuck, yes, y-yes ma’am.” Ragneta grit her teeth. Fuck this. She should just jump out the window and fucking die. She felt like nothing, like a chew toy for an animal that didn’t care about anything but seeing how horrifically they could mangle her psyche. The bajonglet held her breath and opened the hole in the service veil, pulling it over her head. The sticky fabric clung to Ragneta’s face and flooded her senses with Leonita’s foot stink. It was inescapable, it was all she could breathe. Everything stung, her throat, lungs, nose, ears. Ragneta’s eyes watered, invisible to her captors from behind the face of her veil. She was baking in a hot sauna of stink and humid sweat and she could do little about it but whimper like a kicked puppy.
Nencia tilted her head, her eyes locked on the bajonglet. Service veils weren’t really veils as much as they were masks— tight around the face with black fabric draping from a circular crown that sat atop the head. It looked almost as though someone had melted rubber over the servant’s head and emblazoned a rune upon the front. This rune in specific was unique to Leonita, painted in white to show her ownership of Ragneta. Service veils differed heavily from region to region, but those of monarvent lay servants were typically simplistic and dark, much like the attire of monarvent high mothers themselves. Ragneta’s long black servant dress matched her service veil well. She was beautiful, if not a bit messy due to her treatment under Leonita’s care.
“Perhaps I can teach you a little something now, Nencia,” Leonita said before turning back to Ragneta. “Present your drelrune.”
Ragneta hesitated for a moment, “N-no, please, I-I’m already so exhausted, ma’am,” The bajonglet whimpered.
Leonita slapped the back of her fist across Ragneta’s face, sending a wet smack echoing through the room before silence fell on the trio. The strike was more than enough to get Leonita’s point across.
Ragneta brought a hand up to massage her cheek. She could feel blood pooling in her cheek from a tooth that had cut across the inside of her mouth. She shivered and turned around in place, clutching her hands against the backrest of the couch. The bajonglet closed her eyes and said a tearful prayer to the gods as she felt the back of her service veil being unbuttoned by thick fingers. She could smell her captor looming behind her, hungry and needy for her little plaything. Ragneta took a deep breath, but the aroma of Leonita’s feet filling her lungs did little to relieve her fear.
Leonita beckoned Nencia to come near, then took her hands. The military woman's hands were much bigger than Nencia’s own, and much stronger too. The Ronelander positioned Nencia against her chest, facing Ragneta’s back. Nencia, she could feel Leonita’s chiseled abs against her back and her tits resting against her neck. Goddess, it was going to be hard to focus. Nencia took a deep breath and sank into Leonita’s warm embrace, letting the ronelander guide her hands to Ragneta’s neck, parting the service veil to access her drelrune. Nencia pressed her fingers against the bajonglet’s neck and began interfacing.
Nencia flashed runes and evocations through her mind, recalling things about Ragneta— name, appearance, age, to get a basic latch into her brain. She penetrated deeper using probing evocations, forcing emotions, veilities and the shadows of forgotten memories out of Ragneta’s brain until she could feel her influence growing around the woman’s mind.
“Have you ever used a cogent probe?” Leonita asked.
“No, I have not. Can you teach me how?”
“Instead of going through her mind like a book, flipping through the folds of her brain until you find a strong emotion you can use as a platform to establish your supplicant— instead, find a memory you have with her and use those emotions to search around. Much in the same way you recall facts about her when you start the initial probe. There isn’t much more to it than that, you can apply all the knowledge you already have.”
Nencia nodded and continued her probe, this time latching onto a recent memory— the one in which Leonita threatened Ragneta, trying to evoke the fear the bajonglet had felt.
Nencia recoiled. There was the fear. Goddess, it was strong. Nencia could feel it bloom from her chest and into her appendages. Perfect— just what she needed to establish a connection. Nencia forced herself onto the servant, imposing her will through statements and affirmations. You are mine. You will obey me, She repeated as she dug more fear from Ragneta’s brain, sinking her claws deeper.
“Okay— I have her,” Nencia said. It had taken her longer than usual— she wasn’t used to having an audience.
“Perfect. Do you know how to doll-joint servants?” Leonita asked, backing away from Nencia and tapping her chin.
“Yes! I learned a couple of days ago.”
“Excellent. Please demonstrate for me, if you will.”
Nencia nodded and closed her eyes, focusing on herself and Ragneta. She tried to feel through Ragneta’s body, imagining her arms and legs stiffening and the feeling of soft moth fur against her skin as her appendages moved and joints locked. She repeated this process until she had a good feeling for what she intended to do to Ragneta— what she wanted to impose upon her. She ran through runes in her head, words relating to her desires. Doll. Putty. Wood. Porcelain. Toy. Puppet. Again and again as she imagined joints of wood locking and interconnecting atop Ragneta’s body. She initiated more evocation supplicants until she finally felt her connection was strong enough, then she ran through her doll-joint invocation.
Light burst between Nencia’s fingers and Ragneta’s rune for a moment, shocking the pair. Nencia recoiled, but Ragneta stayed still.
Burning pain throbbed in Nencia’s hand. Her Drelrune tutor crept up behind her, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“There are ways to minimize the pain of the invocation shock, they come with time,” Leonita said, placing a hand on Nencia’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Leonita,” Nencia sighed.
Leonita moved to Ragneta’s side, stroking a finger along the bajonglet’s shoulder. She was no longer moving— not even a shiver or the gentle rising and falling of her chest. A hand found its way under Ragneta’s arm and moved it into the air. When the hand released, the appendage stayed in place, held straight above her head as rigid as a tree branch.
Ragneta’s breaths were shallow. She felt like her ribs were refusing to move in tandem with her lungs. Every muscle in her body was stationary save her eyes and diaphragm. She felt like she was in a prison, unable to even take a breath to relax her body. She tried to move her arm down, but as Leonita had said earlier, straining to move her muscles only induced more pain. It hurt even when she didn’t strain, the supplicant had done nothing to strengthen her muscles, meaning that her arm still ached from being held straight above her head with no support. As the name of the supplicant suggested, Ragneta felt as though she was a doll for the pair to play with. Tears rolled down the bajonglet statue’s eyes. She was hopeless— trapped in her own head.
Leonita moved the doll-servant's arms down to her sides, much to the bajonglet’s relief. The high mother then turned Ragneta’s body and placed the bajonglet’s hands under her chin, face cocked upwards. Her mouth was invaded by Leonita’s fingers which pressed into the roof and against her teeth. The taste of sweat filled her palate. She wanted to wince and gag but her face wouldn’t contort even a centimeter from its position. A thumb on her tongue and a forefinger on the roof of her mouth, her jaw was pried open, the joints stretched to their limits.
“Need to pass water, Nencia?” Leonita asked with a smirk, glancing back at her companion.
“I’ll do the honors, then.”
Leonita lifted her skirt past her massive calves and godly thighs. Every inch of her looked like it could crush a skull with little to no effort. Leonita’s cock flopped out of her panties. The rod hung down against her leg, twitching as precum leaked from the tip and onto the floor. But gods, the worst part was the smell. It stunk like she hadn’t showered in years; like her taint had been marinating under that skirt in the hot solitar sun and not been allowed to breathe despite the sticky sweat and hellish humidity it was enduring.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t the worst part.
The worst part was that the putrid member was about to be in Ragneta’s mouth.
Leonita slapped her cock against Ragneta’s face. While she couldn’t make facial expressions, Leonita could tell from the look in the woman’s eyes that she was horrified. Perfect. The tip of Leonita’s cock pressed into Ragneta’s tongue. It tasted horrible. Like raw meat with far too much salt on it.
Ragneta would have done anything to stop her treatment. She would have begged on her hands and knees, would have devoted her life to servitude and been a good girl for her mistress. It was too late, though. Her body was as rigid as a statue and nothing but the gods could stop what was about to happen. Ragneta gazed up at Leonita, who was staring down at her with a shit-eating grin as per usual.
A yellow stream leaked from the tip of Leonita’s cock and into Ragneta’s waiting mouth. The bajonglet’s eyes shut tight as the bitter liquid flooded her throat. It tasted like rancid fruit soaked in the most sour lemons imaginable. Ragneta’s throat would have rejected it immediately were it not for the invocation supplicant keeping her muscles as solid as stone.
Ragneta didn’t care anymore, she strained against the invocation, trying to escape the influence of her drelrune with every part of her body. Her muscles burned as they fought against Ragneta’s influence and that of the drelrune. It was no use. Ragneta knew it would be no use, but as the piss continued to fill her mouth to the brim it was the last thing she could do to maintain some sense of dignity.
“I told you what would happen if you struggled,” Leonita said, watching as the moth girl’s eyes rolled back in her head like marbles.
The liquid continued to fill Ragneta’s mouth until it leaked from her lips and into her cupped hands below. The stream petered out, leaving Ragneta’s maw flooded with hot, sour piss.
Leonita removed her cock from Ragneta’s mouth and placed a hand under the bajonglet’s chin, pressing it closed to trap the urine inside. A hand clasped around the back of Ragneta’s neck. She could feel fingers pressing against her rune, burning, sharp pain like pins pricking her neck. She didn’t care— she just wanted it to end, for the supplicant to be dispelled so she could spit out the piss and be done with this awful treatment.
A burning pain shot through Ragneta’s neck before the muscles in her throat tightened. Oh gods no. She fought again. She fought as hard as she could against what was about to happen but as expected it was useless.
Hot urine poured down her throat, prompting burning pain like she had just swallowed a spicy pepper whole. Ragneta could feel putrid piss warm her stomach as it poured in from her esophagus. At the very least she couldn’t taste it anymore, but having to swallow Leonita’s fucking piss was a far worse punishment than having to gargle it like mouthwash. Ragneta shut her eyes tight. She didn’t want to look up at Leonita and see that fucking face smiling down at her again. Gods, she could even hear Nencia giggling.
More fingers on the back of her neck, another burst of pain, and Ragneta was sent tumbling to the ground. She pushed herself up with her arms, sitting on her knees. Knees that were soon spattered with spit as Ragneta couched and gagged onto the floor below.
“Taste good, toilet?”
Ragneta didn’t answer. She grit her teeth as tears flowed down her cheeks. She could barely hear Leonita over the sound of her own weeping. Spittle and snot leaked from her face alongside tears, mixing with piss in a puddle on the floor.
“Stop leaking on the floor, bug— unless you want to lick it up,” Leonita said, pressing her boot into Ragneta’s side and kicking her over.
“I shall depart now, I have duties to attend to,” Nencia said, running a hand down Leonita’s muscular arm.
“Farewell, Nencia. You did well with Ragneta.”
The pair of high mothers waved to each other as Nencia sauntered out of the room. Leonita returned her attention to the servant prone on the floor at her feet, still weeping softly. She was pathetic, hurling expletives and standing up to Leonita in one moment and then turning around and crying for mercy the moment she experienced the tiniest bit of pain or humiliation. Leonita didn’t mind too much, though, pathetic bugs were far more entertaining to break.
Leonita placed her boot onto Ragneta’s head, pressing her skull into the puddle of piss and spit on the floor. The bajonglet’s face was wiped back and forth across the ground, grinding the foul cocktail of liquids into her fur.
“Silence, I am sick of your incessant whining. If I were even a bit less merciful I would crush your head like a grape!” Leonita barked, pressing more weight onto Ragneta’s skull.
Ragneta’s mouth hung open from the pressure bearing down on her jaw, unable to speak or do much more aside from groan like a rusty hinge.
“Your fighting, begging, and crying will do nothing but prolong your torture. What I want is obedience. I ask a question, you answer. I tell you to do something, you do it. No complaints, no crying, you do exactly as I say when I say it.”
Leonita removed her boot from Ragneta’s head. The bajonglet was quivering, tears still streaming from her eyes. She opened her mouth, then stopped herself, whimpered, and began again.
“Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”
“That’s progress, now show me you can act that obedient without me having to pound your skull like a punching bag.”
Leonita turned and walked towards the room’s exit, smacking her thigh to beckon Ragneta to her side.
“Let’s wash up, bug.”