Fiora paraded the streets with confidence. She craved the adoration and attention from lowly peasants she shared her city with. It was the only way she could tolerate them, in fact. A grin smile broke out on her face as the crowd stopped to turn their heads at her as she passed them. She tilted her chin up slightly, blatantly projecting her aura of self-pride. People who didn't notice her were irritating, and with malicious intent, she would slightly change her path through the throngs of people to bump in to them.
Yes, the attention was her fuel. Recognition was everything to her, because in her mind, honor was an illusion that melted without an eye of scrutiny. Some might want call her a narcissist, and some certainly had. Those that were unlucky enough to have made such slanderous comments in public were seldom heard from again. She recalled that her private dungeon was filling up at a steady rate.
Today she wore a new dueling outfit, which made her keen to take the busiest roads so that she could maximize the pairs of eyes to ogle at her. The outfit was primarily compost of a thin fitting latex outer layer with a much softer silk inner layer. It hugged every curve on her body, as it had been tailored to fit her exactly. The cups for her breasts were slightly off, and she vowed to punish whoever was responsible for that.
There was a golden double helix that coiled around the torso of the outfit, with thin tendrils spreading around her arms and legs. The outfit was a two-piece, held together with only the thinnest of seams. If one was not right next to her, they would think the outfit had been painted on to her.
Only the thinnest of underwear could be worn with this outfit, but the silken interior had persuaded Fiora to forgo wearing any. She did not realize her mistake until a male teenager pointed at her crotch and laughed to one of his friends. She glanced down too see that she had a perfect cameltoe; her pussy lips were visible as plain as if she was naked.
She grunted in anger and tugged at her crotch. The boy laughed harder, infuriating her. Her cheeks went red with rage, and on impulse, she strode over struck him flat handed across the face. He recoiled as if he'd been bitten by a snake. His friend's mouth was agape, and some of the crowd that had been transfixed by her aforementioned cameltoe stopped to watch the situation unfold.
The smarter people kept walking as if nothing had happened. To stop would be a bold move, one that could be interpreted as a challenge to the Grand Duelist. Fiora felt the gaze of dozens of people lock on to her, and understood that she had made a grave mistake. Without a word, she jogged away to the edge of the road, where she cut through an alleyway.
She cut through the narrow streets and tried to justify her actions to herself. It was out of line for him to laugh at me, she reasoned. Someone had to teach him a lesson. Maybe it was karma that hit her, but even her worst enemy would assume she just got a dose of horrible luck, because as she cut through the pathways that snaked around the city, someone struck her on the back of the head with a very heavy fist.
The blow stunned her, dropping her to her knees, forcing her to throw her hands on the pavement to keep from falling completely. Her training began to surface, and she shifted her weight so that she could prepare for a duel, but this was no duel. Kicks landed on her from several directions at once, sapping the willpower out of her with each sharp intense pain. Her assailants avoided her head, taking care to keep her conscious.
She tried to turn over, to see her attackers, but they did not allow her. They made no comments; they did not speak at all. Instead she heard them grunt as they beat her. Despite herself, she wondered if the outfit would have to be re-tailored. It was a useless thought, but she could barely think.
Finally, thankfully, the kicks subsided. Her legs had suffered the most, and felt as if they had already swollen to twice their actual size. She felt strong hands grab her ass, and then the sharp wincing pains as he spanked her with too much force to be arousing. Another hand held her head to the pavement, not that she had the strength to move anyway.
Someone tore the thin fabric covering her ass apart, and continued to tear it so that there was a gap between the fabric at her crotch. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening. She summoned the last reserves of her strength to scream and kick, but nobody who might have heard her cared enough to investigate the cause of the scream. The kicks had no force, and landed awkwardly on someone behind her.
Fingers began groping her pussy, stimulating her clit; getting her wet. It amazed her that her body could be in such agony and still respond to sexual stimulation, no matter how unwilling she was. Another pair of hands spread her ass cheeks, stretching them so that her butthole was easily visible and accessible.
She groaned in misery, and felt someone slip what she assumed was a sex toy of some sort in to her ass. Fiora hated anal sex, and found it painful. Whatever was inside of her butt reinforced her opinion, as it was simply lodged inside of her. Where she thought it was going to stop, it continued. She cried out in pain as the rounded tube-like object was shoved so deep that her asshole closed around it.
Instinctively her body tried to force it out, but it seemed to be stuck in place. Someone hoisted her by the waste and put a cart of some sort underneath her. It positioned her so that her toes dangled slightly off the ground, with her torso parallel to the pavement, as if she was dangling off a bed.
The fingers that had been coaxing her pussy in to wetting had retreated, being replaced by the familiar feeling of a penis. There was no hesitation, just someone behind her thrusting in her, using her for his own pleasure as if she was just a doll.
She felt his length inside her and her groans of pain rose and fell with each thrust. She had her eyes shut tightly, but peeked when she felt someone playing with her breasts through her thin shirt. There was a man dressed in all black, even his face had some kind of mask that hid every feature. She appeared to be on some kind of modified massage table, with her breasts dangling out the bottom. The man used a small knife to surgically remove the fabric concealing her boobs.
The thrusts of the man inside her made it difficult, as her boobs kept bouncing back and forth. He clasped his hand tightly around them one at a time to make his task easier. When her breasts were revealed, he lifted his mask up slightly to uncover his mouth. She saw that he had a chiseled chin, and concluded that he was probably very handsome.
He began nibbling on her nipples, sending euphoric waves through her body. The painful thrusts began to morph in to a pleasurable fucking, although she still felt intense pain from the foreign object inside her ass. Tears ran down her cheeks as her soul retreated from her body, detaching herself from the moment. What was left was a thin shell of a woman who quietly moaned. The man below her tired of sucking her tits.
She felt the man fucking her ejaculate inside her vagina, deep in his thrust. He groaned loudly, and slipped out of her. Immediately, someone stuck another tube-like object in her pussy, filling the void the man had left. Fiora heard tiny beeps of a machine, and realize that the tubes were one part of a magnetic vibrator.
The tubes began fucking her from the inside, moving back and forth slowly at first, but rapidly increasing speed as someone turned the dial up to the maximum setting. The cum inside her vagina helped lubricate the dildo, but the one in her ass was devoid of that privilege. The friction mind breaking, and she felt waves of pain and pleasure course through her beaten body. It was some time before she realized she was not bound to the table.
It felt like an hour of constant mechanical fucking before she gathered enough of her shattered sanity to realize she was alone. Her attackers had fled the scene, leaving her to be violated by the machine. She gathered the courage to move, and pulled herself up completely on the table. The magnetism that held the toys in her holes pulled them out. She felt as if she was pulling out a bowling ball. Her asshole spread open to allow the dildo to slide out with a muted pop.
She felt blood trickling out of her asshole. With a final pull, she tumbled off the table and on to the hard pavement. Another ten minutes passed before she found the strength to crawl. She caught her reflection in a discarded cracked mirror. Her tits and groin were exposed as if she wore lingerie, and her outfit was tattered in other spots. Where it wasn't ripped, you could see no visible trauma, where it was, black bruises made her look as if she was a rotting carcass.
Fiora actually saw the light in her eyes go out in the mirror as she fainted.