The advantages of having a class

Dogdog stared down at Ginny, a look of disbelief on his face. Power. For the first time in his life he had power. "Bend down," he said, his voice a command that brooked no argument. And she did, her pride forgotten as she lowered her face to the ground. He lifted his foot expectantly, and with no verbal command needed,her tongue slid out to touch his dirty, calloused feet.

The touch of her tongue was wet and warm, and Dogdog felt a thrill of power as he watched her perform this act of subservience. It was a stark contrast to the way she had treated him before, and he couldn't help but enjoy the sight of her, so powerful and proud, brought to her knees by his will alone.

Her tongue slid over his calloused soles, the roughness of her action a stark reminder of his newfound authority. With each stroke, she removed the grime of his past, the dirt of his old life. The sound of her licking and sucking filled the room, a strange symphony of domination and submission striking a stark contrast to their previous arrangement.

He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction as she flossed between his toes with her tongue, the wetness and warmth of her mouth a providing an interesting dichotomy to the cold, hard stone of the jail cell floor. It was a bizarre sensation, one that both repulsed and thrilled him. Her touch was gentle yet firm, a testament to her submission to him.

Ginny let out a moan, and Dogdog realized with a start that they weren't just sounds of defeat but of pleasure. Her mind had changed drastically, making him the sole object of value in her life. Her eyes were closed, her face a mask of ecstasy as she worshiped his feet, her body moving almost sensually against the floor. The thought of her enjoying this humiliation filled him with fascination.

He knew the scent and taste couldn't have been pleasurable. It had been weeks since her last washed properly, and he could see the filth and grime coming off with each stroke of her tongue.

He watched as she took all his toes into her mouth, her lips stretching around his foot, and he felt the warm, wet cavern of her throat as she began to deepthroat it. He could see her gag reflex fighting against the intrusion, her eyes watering and nose wrinkling, but she didn't stop. Instead, she took his foot deeper, her cheeks hollowing and her neck straining with the effort. It was a sight that would have been comical if not for the undeniable eroticism of the situation.

He could feel himself growing hard, as the Amazonian woman continues her degrading act. He pushed her away, the larger and stronger woman not resisting him at all, as she fell back to her haunches, a hurt look on her face. "Sir? Did I do something wrong?" She asked, on the verge of tears.

"N...no." Dogdog stuttered out, "it's just....". Everything was happening so fast, like a runaway horse. Just minutes ago he had been. A prisoner here, subject to daily beatings at the hands of this muscular woman, and now...now she was his ****.

Her eyes lit up as she noticed the bulge beneath his rags. "I understand master.". She smiled, licking her lips and pulled her leather armor up over her head. Her shirt and bra followed, as she freed her bountiful chest from its confines. His mouth dropped as he took in her now topless form. Her muscular form was superb, strong arms and defined shoulders, along with well defined abs. These were offset by her generous chest, double D by his estimation. She reached up and roughly squeezed her tits, moaning loudly. "Do you like them, sir? They're yours.". With eyes filled with a mix of terror and something that looked suspiciously like hope, she whispered, "Please... let me... serve you in this way."

Dogdog stared, his mind racing. He had never been the recipient of such a request, especially not from someone so far above him in the social hierarchy of their world. He knew that in this new dynamic, he could demand anything from her, and she would obey without question. But the idea of her begging for the chance to pleasure him with her body was almost too much to comprehend.

Her voice grew softer, more pleading. "I know I'm beneath you," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. "But please, let me serve you in this way." She reached for his foot again, her hand trembling with a mix of fear and something else, something that looked eerily like desire.

The guard's words echoed in Dogdog's head; a siren's call wrapped in the guise of submission. He felt a surge of power, the heady rush of control, of authority. With a nod, he allowed her to take his foot back into her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut in what looked like relief. He watched as she worked his toes with her tongue, her movements growing more confident, more practiced with each passing second.

The guard's hands roamed over her own body, caressing her breasts as if offering them up to him. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort, and then she leaned in, pressing his foot to her chest. Her skin was hot, almost feverish, and Dogdog could feel the pounding of her heart against his sole. She began to move her chest up and down, her breasts bouncing around his toes as she moaned around the intrusion.

Her eyes remained on his, beseeching, as if seeking his approval. And for a moment, he felt something akin to pity for her, this powerful warrior reduced to such a base act. But the power was too intoxicating, the thrill of watching her debase herself too great to ignore. He nodded, his voice a low growl. "Do it."

Her squeal of glee was high-pitched and piercing, echoing through the dungeon. She didn't move immediately, savoring the moment. Then, with a sinuous grace that seemed almost inhuman, she began to slide her tits up his leg. The motion was slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his as she approached his groin. The anticipation was palpable, a thick tension that coiled in the air like a serpent waiting to strike. When she reached the apex of his thighs, she paused, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Dogdog's own breath was shallow, his cock already hard from the sheer eroticism of her act. He felt the heat of her flesh as she brought her breasts closer, her eyes gleaming with a mix of fear and excitement. He could see the beads of sweat that had formed on her skin, the way her muscles quivered with anticipation. And then, with a suddenness that made his heart stutter in his chest, she engulfed him. Her breasts were so large, so soft and warm, that his cock was completely obscured, swallowed whole by her flesh. As she began to move, she began to whisper, her voice a low, worshipful murmur that filled the room. "Thank you," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." It was a litany of gratitude, a declaration of her submission that sent shivers down his spine. Each time she spoke, her breasts squeezed tighter around him, her movements growing more urgent. He could feel the wetness of her mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste the precum that beaded at the tip of his cock. She began to rock her body back and forth, her breasts moving in a hypnotic rhythm that matched the pulse in his cock. The friction was exquisite, the softness of her flesh contrasting with the firmness of her grip. His hips began to move in time with hers, a grown of pleasure escape his mouth

Dogdog could feel the tension building, his orgasm quickly approaching under the ministrations of his new thrall. The room grew dimmer as he focused solely on the sensations she was creating, the warmth of her breasts, the slickness of her saliva, the sound of her muffled moans around his cock. And then it hit him, a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. He came with a roar, his seed spurting out and covering her chest. The sight of her, this muscular warrior, coated in his cum was a heady one, a visual representation of his newfound power.

Her eyes widened with shock and pleasure, a look of pure, unfiltered desire etched on her face. She didn't stop, her movements becoming more frenzied as she tried to milk every last drop from him. His cum ran in rivulets down her chest, painting her in a sticky, white emblem of his dominance. Her six pack abs, a testament to her strength and discipline, glistened in the candlelight as his semen slithered down the valleys between each muscle, a stark contrast to the rigid control she had once wielded over him.

Moaning with pleasure, she began scooping his cum up with her hands, eating it voraciously. She didn't care about the stickiness that coated her palms and fingers. She licked her palm clean with a groan that sounded almost animalistic. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing ragged. Once she had finished devouring every drop of his cum she could find, she leaned back on her haunches and looked up at him worshipfully.

The sight of her brought Dogdog back to reality with a jolt. He felt a surge of anger, hot and potent, at the memory of her treating him like dirt, mocking his very existence. It reminded him of the countless beatings he'd endured at her hands. Without thinking, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face, hard enough to leave a red handprint on her cheek. The sound echoed through the dungeon.

Her eyes flew open in shock, and a whine escaped from her throat, though she made no move to fight back. Instead, she took the blow with a look that was almost... submissive. It only fueled his anger further. "You think you can just **** me?" he snarled, his voice thick with rage. "You think I'll let you?"

Ginny's expression crumpled, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears. "I'm so, so sorry."

Almost no trace of the spiteful jailor remained in her eyes. Every fiber of her being was bent to the singular purpose of pleasing him, her own desires and thoughts buried beneath the weight of his dominance. Her apologies were genuine, the kind that come from a soul broken and reshaped.

Tears streaked down her face, mixing with the salty taste of his semen on her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I've been such a stupid, bitchy cunt. Please, forgive me."

Her shoulders heaved with sobs as she continued to apologize. Her pride was shattered, replaced by a **** need to atone for her past transgressions. She had never wanted anything more than to serve this magnificent creature before her, her master, the goblin.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hammering of his heart. "Please, let me make it up to you. Anything, just tell me what you want."

Dogdog'felt his anger flare brighter at her words. The way she begged, the desperation in her voice, it was like a ****. It felt good. He reveled in it. "You want to make it up to me?" he spat. "You want to atone for treating me like dirt?"

The guard nodded frantically, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she whimpered. "Anything, just tell me what to do."

His smile was cruel. "Take your hands," he said, his voice a low growl. "And punish those cow udders of yours." He watched with fascination as she obeyed, her eyes wide with horror as she brought her hands up to her breasts. Her hands hovered for a moment, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was about to do, and then she brought them down with a resounding smack. Her tits jiggled from the impact, and she let out a muffled cry of pain. Yet she didn't stop. Instead, she continued to slap her tits, her movements growing more frantic as she tried to dull the ache in her heart with the pain in her body.

"Harder," Dogdog snarled, his voice thick with the thrill of power. Ginny obeyed, her slaps growing more vicious. The sound of her palms meeting her flesh filled the air, a cacophony of pain that seemed to fuel Dogdog's rage. Her breasts grew redder with each blow, her skin bruised and tender from the onslaught. She winced with every strike, but she never once questioned his command, her eyes never leaving his as she endured the punishment.

"Call them what they are," he sneered, enjoying the way she flinched at his words. "Cow udders," he repeated, the insult rolling off his tongue like a curse.

With a whimper, the guard obeyed, her voice thick with self-loathing as she began to chant, "I'm a stupid cow, with worthless udders," with each slap. The words were a twisted mantra, a declaration of her own inferiority that seemed to echo in the very air around them. Her breasts bounced with each strike, her body jolting with the pain. Yet she didn't stop, her face a mask of agony and determination.