CHAPTER 5: RENIC AND ROXY
For four days, Tina Lafay was kept just at the edge of climax. Hung upside down in the highest room of the Tower of Wails. Naked, bound, and tormented with a sentient vibrator that teased her to the edge of orgasm then shut down just before she could feel the realest. This was her punishment for sneaking more licks of her Queen's pussy than she was permitted. She was allowed down to sleep, eat, and bathe. But her hands were bound and the moment she was finished with whatever task was at hand, she was hung upside down again and the purple device went back to teasing her clit.
Four days may not sound like a long time. But when your pussy is stimulated with an expertise that had been developed over thousands of years, and brought the verge of a life changing orgasm, then denied that fulfillment, Tina was quite literally at risk for losing her mind. By the fourth day her begging was no more than grunts and moans. No coherent words or pleas, just guttural whines and whimpers.
Two diamond-armored soldiers came to unbind her and help her to her feet. Normally, it had been grey robed servants feeding and cleaning her but today it was royal guards. Tina saw their armor but no part of her brain could appreciate what it meant. All she knew was the aching between her legs, the sticky wet mess of her crotch that needed so desperately to be touched. She would have let either of them have her. Both of them. Any of their friends. As long as they let her cum. She had been thinking of Princess Bubblegum the last day and a half. Once the scene of that sissy being shared and used in front of strangers had shocked her. But once she had gotten pushed past a certain point, the idea of being gangbanged by a rough group of muscular soldiers sounded like heaven. She'd have let them film it and project in on the walls of the imaginarium. Let them cover her in cum and dress her in whatever slutty clothes they wanted. As long as they let her finally cum herself and release this tension.
These diamond warriors didn't seem interested in her quivering limbs or the eager, "Please god fuck me" look in her eyes. They were focused and professional. They dressed her, bound her wrists in iron. "Mmm....plll..." she couldn't quite make words yet. She was walking with a limp, her swollen lower lips were so tender it almost hurt to walk. But she knew better than to disobey the guards. Queen Mab would hear of it, and Tina would never do anything to anger that woman again.
They loaded Tina into a cushioned wagon and laid her down in the purple velvet seat. She noticed the driver in a tall hat winking. She wondered if he would let her suck his cock and then take her from behind. Instead, he wished her a good afternoon and offered her drink of water. She wanted to know who he was and where they were going. But no intelligible questions came out. She sipped her water and was soon fast asleep on the backseat.
Tina did not know how long it took, but eventually, the wagon came to a stop in front of a pretty light blue cottage with smoke rising from the chimney and a one foot tall black fence around the yard featuring roses and flowers of a half hundred colors. Tina sat up and looked around as her mind slowly came back to a hazy form of consciousness. "Where are we?" She asked in a raspy voice, surprised it made sense.
"Home, miss." The driver said. He helped her down from the wagon and then handed her a bag of belongings she didn't know she owned. Then walked her to the door and bid her a good day.
"Oh, um, should I go onside or..." before she finished the question, the door opened and there stood the woman Roxy. She had a cute little nose and Fox ears. She wore a leather vest that hid the front of her breasts but perfectly showed off the middle of both and her deep cleavage. She had on a tiny pair of red shorts that barely hid her crotch and let the bottoms of her ass cheeks peek out. She was wearing pretty red lipstick and holding a cold glass of lemonade in hands covered in gray mud that seemed to be drying into a dust.
Tina couldn't stop staring at her tits and the woman laughed, "Come on, in sweetheart. Let's get you settled."
She touched Tina's lower back to usher her inside and the human shuddered at the sensation of the little fox's hand. "Oh sorry, sugar. I bet after all that time in the tower of wails you must be wound up tighter than a virgin's backside. Come on, I'll get you some lemonade to cool you off."
Tina went inside and heard a wet splashing sound coming from the next room. Drips of liquid pattering in delicate but intensional thrusts. Her pussy ached at the sounds that reminded her of Princess Bubblegum's wet ass fucking, the slapping sounds of Queen Mab's royal pussy in Tina's eager mouth. She broke away from Roxy and went toward the wet sounds, hoping whatever debauchery was happening she could join in and finally get some release.
She saw the man, Renic, arms covered in tattoos and drops of vibrant colors. He wore a sleeveless white shirt with the face of a Wolf on the front and knee length black shorts that hung loosely. His clothes were splattered in paint and hanging on the wall was a large black canvas. Tina was disappointed that no orgy was happening but kept watching. Roxy came behind her and said, "Sorry, Renic is always working on something. I was just doing my pottery myself. We weren't sure when you were gunna get here or we'd have cleaned up."
Tina stood in silence, entranced by the sight before her. Renic moved with a grace that belied the intensity of his strokes, his body a living embodiment of raw emotion, each slash of the brush an extension of his soul. The tattoos on his arms seemed to come alive with each movement, as though they, too, were part of the art he was creating. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, taut and controlled, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something passionate, that pulsed in every gesture.
He wielded the brushes like a dancer commands the stage, every twist of his wrist a deliberate expression of his thoughts, his desires, his very essence. The vibrant colors bloomed across the canvas like a symphony, dark reds and fiery oranges mingling with the softer hues of blues and greens.
The canvas was no longer just a surface, it was a battlefield, a love letter, a piece of his very heart. As Tina watched, her breath caught in her throat, feeling both the weight of the moment and the ache of longing that stirred within her. It was not just the art she admired, but the way he transformed it. How he seemed to be painting with his very soul, offering it up to the world in a dance of light and dark. Each movement felt like a whispered secret, a promise, and a plea all at once. And Tina, powerless to look away, could only wonder if she would ever understand the story he was telling.
Tina's gaze drifted down to the canvas, and her breath hitched. At first, the splashes of color had seemed chaotic, wild even, a storm of hues blending and clashing in the heat of Renic's artistic fury. But as her eyes adjusted, something shifted there, hidden amidst the frenzy of strokes, something took shape.
