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Chapter 9 by Teeleh Teeleh

What's next?

A Friendly Face?

Unsurprisingly, sleep does not come soundly for you that night. As you lay upon the lukewarm stone floor of your cell, you allow yourself a few moments of self-pity. You focus on the sources of your discomfort:

-Your throat throbs with aching pain, and the gag in your mouth affords you no appeasement.

-Your abused ass feels raw and aflame, and no amount of adjustment ameliorates your suffering.

-Your small cock, caged and confined as it is, causes you no small amount of shame and dissatisfaction.

-Your hands are bound behind your back, which only further solidifies your situation in this befouled place.

You attempt to rally your pride as you stifle an exasperated moan. They mean to break you, but you won’t give them the pleasure of hearing you plead.

But it seems someone already has…

You look up with red, tired eyes to see a small feminine figure watching you with curious, pitying eyes. Upon realizing that you’ve noticed her, the small demonic-looking girl quickly draws in a surprised breath and removes her hands from the far edges of your cell. She hides from view for a moment, peeking around the corner to see that you’re still tracking her.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spy on you. I just…I heard what happened, and I--”

You painfully sit up to a cross-legged position as you listen warily to this woman excuse her behavior.

“I wanted to help…if I can?” She slowly enters into full view, mousily moving to the door of your cell. Inspecting her now, you see that her skin is the same sickly blueish purple as the Mistress’s, though she is shorter and appears to be a fair bit more youthful. She has small, nubby horns growing from the sides of her head, and her cute auburn hair is tied back into two short pigtails. Adorning her body is a black and white dress outfit that reaches to her mid-thigh, not unlike the sort of maid uniforms you have seen in your reality--though perhaps a bit more skimpy.

You notice that she has a pair of jingly keys in her right hand, and a compact brown-colored satchel in the other.

“I can’t allow you to leave. If I tried, we’d both just end up back where you are now.” She frowns absent-mindedly for a moment.

“But perhaps I can provide you some small comfort…? I’ve been here a long time. I’ve learned how to…cope with the worst of it.”

She looks over at you with a wan smile and shakes the satchel slightly. “What do you say, friend?”

She looks around cautiously, waiting for your response.

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