A scene straight out of your perverse imagination...

Your eyes were caught by the woman first. She was quite stunning, slim and fair. Her long hair fell free, in a most obscene manner, no one but her husband should have seen her with her hair unbound. It was hard to estimate her height as she was bent at the waist, hair brushing the floor, ass and pussy bare, the cum dripping from her pussy suggested she’d been there a long time. She wore only a single piece of covering, steel manacles on her wrists and a chain between them, binding her hands behind her ankles, keeping her bent over. Her feet were wide enough apart to allow you to see her face, full lips twisted in ecstasy and agony, the mark of the Bound between her full breasts, hard nipples barely visible, occasionally blocked by her own legs. The occasional tear fell from large, blue eyes. After taking in the tableau, you examined the rest of the room.

The thumping sound you’d heard was the Marquis’ wife, whipping her new **** with the steady stroke of an experienced slavemaster. She was an older woman, maybe twice your twenty years, but not unattractive. Long dark hair fell to the small of her back in a decent braid and she wore only a long dress that fell from her waist to her ankles, leaving her small breasts bare and bouncing as she swung. Bare feet flashed as she danced forward and back. She had the powerful body of a woman who’d spent her life on horseback, or the dance floor and though the whip she was using wasn’t designed to rip the flesh from the bone, she was still reddening the Baroness’ ass quite impressively.

The Marquis himself reclined, naked, in the corner, by the fireplace, next to the window, facing the door, idly turning a brand in the fireplace. They hadn’t had much time to play with her after she’d been Bound, or she would have been hurt far worse, though as being Bound was irreversible, she was screwed, figuratively as well as literally. Though, getting her to switch masters might not be impossible, depending on how good the mage who’d bound her was. On that, lighter note, it meant you probably wouldn’t have to face the mage, as whoever it was had probably moved on, after getting paid.

The manor was mostly empty, but not so empty that you could afford loud noises. You slid the window open and before anyone could notice the breeze, slipped inside. A swift sword stroke ended the Marquis’ life before he could say anything. As his wife turned in response to the bubbling, **** sound of her husband’s life ending, you charged. Her mouth opened to scream and you savagely clubbed her to the ground with the pommel of your sword, before drying your blade on a chair and sheathing it smoothly. Less than twenty seconds after entering the room, you were left with the dead Marquis in a pool of his own blood, his **** wife, in a pile on the floor and the Bound Baroness, bent over, ass and pussy presented to you, without any reaction at all, to either her exposure, or your ****.