A former lordling

You lay in the cage, naked, panting, your petite body sweat-slicked and spent. Your breasts felt swollen from constant fondling and your rosy nipples stood pert in the humid night air. Your moist loins tingled sensitively. Warm semen oozed pleasurably from your puckered lips to steam and dry upon your inner thighs. Your long blonde hair clung to your bare shoulders in disarray. It was the third time you had been taken by a common sailor, the third time you had been brolled like a lowly serum girl, but the passion nectar coursing through your veins made you want more. More. The need was instinctive.

Panting you looked out through the bars at the retreating silhouette of the man. You felt a momentary stirring of regret. A few days ago you had been a lord, tall, muscular, powerful, a commander of such men as now serviced your heightened female needs. Now your body was soft and weak. Small. Inferior. You no longer desired to fight to defend your honour; the concept was almost alien to you now. You sighed. You had new, overwhelming desires to contend with. Alien female desires that you must accept or go mad.