As the Crown Princess' personal bodyguard, Reva was afforded certain privileges. Her own personal armory, for instance. Not that she needed much space beyond a weapon rack and a place to store her formal armor. It belonged to another knight before her; his furniture still sat in there, as she had never cared quite enough to have it removed.
Reva didn't need to be there to watch over Kyrie with Varled and Monessa, two harmless nobles. Confident that the palace guards could handle any problems that arose, she had settled in alongside the previous knight's workbench to polish and sharpen her various weapons of war.
It felt a bit silly. She really should have just gotten a workbench.
Actually, she was sure that it was a bit silly. A mirror dominated one wall, and she could full well see how silly it was. She looked like an adult sitting at a toddler's table.
Not like anyone is going to see this,
the centaur thought to herself with a shake of her head, her long red hair pulled up in a loose tail just for convenience's sake. In another hour or so, she'd gather her things and head back to Kyrie's room. The rest of the night? Something with her cock. She'd decide what later.
Reva's head snapped up when the door creaked open, her eyes already narrowed. Nobody entered her armory. It was her private space, the one place she could get away from everything and just enjoy a bit of peace and solitude. Though she loved her bitch dearly, sometimes she needed a little respite from her along with every other human in the castle. Sometimes she just needed to be a centaur without worrying about their bullshit.
Her squire, maybe? She had set him up with a fool's errand that morning to keep him out of her hair. Perhaps he managed to finish it, or realized what it was.
No. No, the golden head slowly peeking through the doorway was definitely her bitch. Reva snorted in exasperation and glanced down at her claymore, her work half finished. With the princess here, she was unlikely to complete it.
"Come in," she grunted as she set aside her rag and propped the blade up against the wall. She turned and folded her arms under her bare breasts, frowning faintly as Kyrie moved tip toed ever so delicately into the room.
Better my bitch than my squire,
Reva thought to herself and then gave her head a little shake. There was probably a good reason for Kyrie being here, and it wouldn't do to discourage her bitch's good behavior.
That's weird.
Kyrie was wearing a guard's cloak, her face flushed with... something Reva couldn't quite put her finger on. Something was wrong. For a moment, her mind went to the worst, that there had been an attack while she was away, that some brave guard had the quick wit to disguise the princess and buy her time to steal away. Her frown grew and she started to rise, stopping just short of really moving her legs.
For one thing, there was a fair chance that any ordinary assassin attacking Kyrie would end up getting struck by a flailing or panicking princess and learn firsthand how strong she, and every other woman with amazon blood, was. Reva could picture a confused Kyrie trying to wake up the assassin after such an accident, though she wasn't sure the princess was quite that naive... not that she was about to rule out the possibility.
Secondly, Reva recognized the way Kyrie was almost panting, her bright blue eyes just a bit glassy in their lack of focus. The way the heir to the empire was subconsciously swaying her hips, standing with her thighs tight together. Kyrie wasn't in any real danger.
Her bitch was a bitch in need, desperate for Reva's cock to take over her world, and her bitch knew exactly what to do. First, she removed her cloak and dropped it to the side.
Again?
Exasperation bubbled up in Reva as she noticed the large dark splotches staining Kyrie's top. She had just milked the bimbo last night, and she was already leaking again! Absolutely unbelievable. Not that she was going to complain, but Gods, it could get to be a problem.
Kyrie almost hovered in place, waiting for Reva's permission, her face flush with arousal. Reva half-turned herself and clicked her tongue. "Here, slut. Come here and get your milky tits dealt with."
The royal bitch brightened up, the somewhat desperate look on her face cracked wide open by her beaming smile as she happily sank to her knees, crawling forth on soft, graceful hands that only knew one job in her young life, pleasuring her mistress' cock.
Reva began to properly rise then, her pride apparent in her smirk. Part of her loved Kyrie, of course, had loved Kyrie before any of this happened. There was another element to it now though, a feeling of superiority that came with having the future queen of the Empire a slave to her cock. She almost felt more dragon than centaur, the princess the clear prize of her abstract hoard.
Could a centaur swagger? Not exactly, but Reva's slight sway as she clopped forward a step was close enough. Her equine cock, now unsheathed, hung proudly as the akhina crawled beneath her mistress and rose to her knees, worshipfully kissing and cleaning the underside of her meaty cock. Her hands lifted to do the only job they knew, and from there Kyrie moved along to Reva's weighty testicles, dotting them with kisses from her royal lips as she waited, lest she bring forth her mistress' fury.
"Speak," Reva grunted.
"Thank you, mistress." Kyrie's voice was hot and breathy, running her fingers over Reva's furry underbelly in supplication. "Your bitch's tits need to be emptied. She's so full," the princess moaned. Her fingers trailed back to Reva's cock, cradling it like a holy object. "Please," she begged, her lips back to Reva's balls. In all her life, no one but Reva had ever been so cruel to her, so incredibly rude, treating her like something lower than a beggar.
She loved it.
Kyrie couldn't see Reva fold her arms as she was, kneeling beneath her and peppering the centaur's cock with affection. But she could hear the silence and she could feel her pussy grow wetter for it, grazing her fingers down to her mistress' scrotum, treating them like a goblet of the gods' wine.
To her? They more or less were. Her pussy dripped and dripped on the floor, hungry for something to fill it.
"Please," she whispered against them, not quite as desperate for relief from her milk-filled tits than she was to get fucked by Reva's wonderful cock right afterwards. She wanted to empty her mistress' hefty orbs straight into her. "Please, please, please, mistress. Please milk me."
Reva finally grunted and then snorted, unfolding her arms. "Take off your top, come out and stand up," she demanded, and her bitch was all too happy to scramble out, preening proud and straight with her mother's gift practically ripped off in her haste to do as she was bid. The centaur reached out to heft one of Kyrie's bared breasts in her hands, rough with a knight's calluses, frowning down at the little white trail of milk dripping down her bitch's royal tit.
"You obscene slut," Reva sneered as she squeezed her slut's full, needy tit. "Do you think I have nothing better to do than tend to a sow?" she demanded, squeezing the softness with malice. An ordinary person, a human, would only be able to cup the princess' bosom, but they were perfect handfuls for Reva's hands. Her forcefulness brought out a fresh trickle of milk. The centaur released it and flicked her wrist, slapping lightly across her bitch's tit with a loud clap of hard flesh on soft.
It made Kyrie gasp out in aroused discomfort. Instead of flinching back from the strike she leaned forward after it, her hands unconsciously coming to rest flat on Reva's well-defined abs; her fingers curled and her carefully manicured nails dug into her mistress' skin when the centaur slapped her other tit. She felt no shame, only devotion, her eyes closing as she fell into a reverie, joyous to wait for what she would be given and eager for the reward she knew would be coming soon after.
"Well?" Reva barked at her, and Kyrie's reverie shattered as her mistress seized her by the neck, her eyes flaring wide open in alarm as she felt her throat tighten, her breathing made so abruptly more difficult. Her heart thundered in her chest. Kyrie was not a small woman, but Reva made her feel tiny, made Kyrie feel the danger that she protected her from for years now. The royal bitch felt panic, but it was truly momentary and born from her surprise.
If Kyrie's mistress wanted her to gasp and rasp for breath, she would gladly fight for it, just as she would gladly do anything else Reva expected of her.
Besides, she was used to worse. Centaur cock did far more to obstruct her breathing than a hand around her throat, and she took that at least twice a day. Once before breakfast, once before bed, and usually one more time between, not to mention the times she took it in her whorish royal pussy or her bitch ass. Like her throat, they now existed for the joy of worshipping her mistress' cock. Everything else was secondary.
All she could think of was her love for Reva. Reva's cock. Reva's cum. Was she saying something?
"Well, slut?" Reva asked, leaning her face in close to Kyrie's. Her other hand grabbed her ass and she hoisted the Crown Princess into the air, pliant to her mistress' wishes and dangling. "Do you think I have nothing better to do than milk you?" she asked with a devilish sneer, fully intending to tap the proverbial kegs in due time. Just not until she had rendered the woman she was honorbound to protect a mewling, helpless slut in terrible need.
