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Lord to Tramp

A Tale of Zhor

By Spiff

She lay in the cage, naked, her body sweat-slicked and spent. Her breasts felt swollen from constant fondling, and her rosy nipples stood pert in the humid night air. Her moist loins tingled sensitively. Warm semen oozed pleasurably from her puckered lips, to stream and dry upon her inner thighs. Her long blonde hair clung to her bare shoulders in disarray. It was the third time she had been taken by a common sailor, but the passion nectar coursing through her veins made her want more. Panting, she looked out through the bars at the retreating silhouette of the man. She felt a momentary stirring of regret. A few days s ago, she had been a lord, a commander of such men as now serviced her. Her body was soft and weak. She no longer desired to fight to defend her honour; the concept was alien to her. She had new desires to contend with. Alien female desires that she must accept. Another approached her across the rolling deck and undid his breeches. Make yourself ready for brolling, bitch," he ordered, looking her keenly in the eye. Instinctively she turned herself about, pressing herself against the bars to allow him access. She sighed as she felt his firm manhood enter her warm, tight pussy. His hands gripped her rounded ass possessively as he slid in and out of her throbbing cunt. This was how soldiers treated a lord who had become a serum girl. The lord no longer existed. None of them would acknowledge her former status, and if they did, it was to ridicule her. It was their duty to disabuse her of the notion that she was anything but a harlot. She had done the same for others turned into serum girls, but had never considered that this might be her fate. Especially since she was a lord. She groaned desperately as she felt her pussy throb with an approaching orgasm. This was already becoming second nature to her.

"Good girl," noted the man.

"Yes," she moaned.

He slid out of her moist pussy and pressed against her anus, his large head sliding inside slowly as she gasped.

"Do you like that?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" he gripped the chain at her neck and pulled.

'Yes…master," she said, struggling with her newfound submissiveness and the urges of the lust potion.

"Good girl," he said as he began to ball her arse.

She was rapidly becoming an insatiable little serum girl, and she knew it. The man fondled her overlarge breasts which bounced with each thrust, "You like this, don't you?"

"Yes," she moaned, very aware of the power of this man had over her, that made her abandon all restraint.

He grunted as he came in her. Her eyes clenched shut and she whimpered as surpassing waves of pleasure swelled within her.
He pulled free, jism dribbling from her tight little ass hole. "Say thank you, sir."

"I thank you, sir." For some reason the words still felt wrong to her.

"You're welcome. Now lick it clean," he said, a compelling authority to his voice.

She felt the need to obey. "No," she said, her former self coming through, fighting the compulsion to submit to absolute slavery.

The sailor smirked and grabbed a handful of straw from her pallet. He wiped himself and then did up his breeches. "Over time you'll be reduced to a pliant pleasure slave. Once you've ignited, you'll find yourself submitting unquestionably to a man's wishes. I could hardly imagine a more fitting punishment for you. I'll see you later. Enjoy your free will whilst you can, whore."

She bristled at the man's leaving comments, but in her heightened state of sexual excitement it was hard to remain angry for long. She was acutely aware she was rapidly becoming a lowly, chokered thrall. It worried her that thoughts of a future in the furs was comforting. A part of her still thought that if she could escape she could avoid her abject fate, but that part was dimming by the moment. Staring down at her perfect breasts and shapely hips, she had a hard time imagining herself as anything other than a slave girl. She even found herself moistening at the thought of being a slave, a worrying sign. In her daydreaming she hardly notice her next suitor's approach. "Hello," the deck hand said. She turned to regard him. She felt a little shamed, her eyes lowering reflexively. This man was nothing but a young roustabout, but now he was very much her better. His eyes looked pained. "I don't really want to take you, a former lord and all…it must be terrible being reduced to this." Reminded of her disgrace, she sighed. "I can go…" he said. She found herself concerned that this young lad might be punished for failing to obey the ship-wide order to take her. She decided to make it easy for him. "Stay," she pulled his drawstring loose and her hand slipped into his trousers. It was not really an act. She wanted him, her body's need combining with the nectar to defeat her former male instincts. She gripped his manhood in her delicate fingers and felt it stir, despite the deckhand's intent. Her hand slid up and down its length, her own arousal growing as it hardened. She saw lust growing in his eyes. Lust for her body. She liked that. It excited her. Evoking desire in this man made her moisten all the more. "Yes," he grunted. "I want you." She responded eagerly, playfully pushed back with her hips. It felt so natural to be taken like this.

She moaned as she felt her sensitive moist folds enveloping him, till his balls dangled in the void between her thighs. She had once been proud of her manhood, but she found it turned her on immensely to look past her lovely giggling breasts and see a firm shaft nestled in her mound.

The deckhand's thrusts sped up and her body began to tremble as he rode her to humble submission. On her hands and knees she looked about her cage, her eyes swimming as she swooned. She wore not a rag, as a slave ought not, and it was all right. Her firmly rounded ass was high in the air. Her full breasts bounced with each mounting thrust. Her large nipples throbbed tenderly at his fevered touch. Her juices started to flow in hot crystalline spurts. She felt herself reaching a climax, her pussy muscles throbbing and milking him of his seed. And then he came, filling her womb with warmth and contentment. In his tight, sweaty embrace, his lips shivered against her backside; she felt totally his, a thrall to his desire.

His penis slide out of her and a thrill ran up her spine. She whimpered as she realized that she had almost ignited. She certainly felt like a slave and longed to obey this stranger's every command, but she still had to prove her innocence.

Thank you, he said, then left.

The End?

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