Eilwy on display

Celia breezed back into the dungeon, followed by two guards. She had changed into a beautiful and expensive blue dress, patterned with pearls and precious stones, and wore a small tiara that glittered in her blonde hair. The dress hugged her figure well and highlighted her curves, but it was otherwise discrete and dignified.

"Oh my," she laughed. "Eilwy! You look so cute!"

The enchantress blushed. In contrast, her tiny purple cloth and chain bikini left little to the imagination, showing almost all of her smooth and pale skin. The two maids had unchained her before leaving and she had spent the last hour trying to take the gag out of her mouth. Frustratingly, it was securely locked in place. The ivory ball felt huge in her mouth.

She glowered at Celia, who smiled and picked up the leash. She gave it a tug and Eilwy took an involuntary step forward.

"Come on," Celia said teasingly and walked from the dungeon, pulling Eilwy behind her on the leash. Eilwy, knowing resistance was futile, followed reluctantly.

The stones felt cold on her bare feet. She was pleased when they left the dungeon and entered the carpeted floor of the castle. The smell of roasted meats and strong wines filled the air, and Eilwy could hear the sound of muffled boisterous laughter and merriment.

Eventually they came to the great double doors that led to the main dining hall. Celia gave poor Eilwy a pat on her bikinied buttock, enjoying its slight wobble.

The doors were cast open to a short trumpet fanfare. The room was full of people, maybe three dozen in total, wearing the latest styles of dresses and suits. Most of women were from Redwell or nearabouts where the fashion was for colourful dresses with wide skirts, tightly fitted waists, and pushed up breasts. They turned to welcome their host.

"The Marquess de Rousseau...." intoned the announcer solemnly. "And Eilwy the Enchantress, Black Reaver and Scourge of Southlake."

There were some surprised and confused whispers. Was this a joke? Had they heard right? The enchantress herself, here at de Rousseau court?

The young Marquess swept into the room, tugging on the leash and pulling Eilwy behind her. She tried hard to keep her face neutral as she walked through the crowd to her throne, seeing the ladies curtsey politely and the gentlemen bow. Her personal enforcer, Sylla, hovered by the throne, wearing her dark velvet dress. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Primal Slurtis, standing next a young raven haired beauty with dark eyes that Celia knew was trying to trick him.

"By the Great Aldin!" A man's voice, astonished. "Is that Eilwy?"

The crowd had started to notice Eilwy, stumbling along behind Celia on her leash. At first no one could believe it. Eilwy was a feared and fierce enchantress who wore black robes and cloaks and whom no one dared cross. The cute, dark haired little girl in the tiny purple bikini couldn't possibly be the greatest wizard in the west...

"Oh my Gods!" A woman's voice this time, delighted and mocking. "It is Eilwy! It is!"

A great roar went up in the hall, with much laughter and merriment and clapping of backs and cheering. Eilwy knew her face was burning and looked low at the floor. She felt naked.

Celia reached her throne and tugged Eilwy forward, nearly sending her sprawling. Turning, she could see the admiration and delight on her court's faces. Even Primal Slurtis looked impressed, she thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the mighty Black Reaver!"

Laughter, cheering, clapping and toasting. Eilwy's head was low. She knew she would never live this down - the bards would be singing bawdy songs about her humiliation for years. It would certainly get back to the King's own court.

Grinning, Celia walked behind Eilwy and loosened her bikini top. Eilwy gave a muffled plea into her gag, shaking her head.

"I don't think so, enchantress." Celia hissed. "Do you remember when I said your tits were too small for tassels and you turned me into a fucking frog? Time for payback."

Celia ripped down the Enchantress's bikini top and a great wave of amusement rippled through the crowd. Eiley's small, pert breasts looked sensitive, and her nipples were surprisingly pink and delicate. The ladies delighted in her lack of size, whilst the men imagined what it would be like to squeeze and lick them and further defile the enchantress.

Celia clapped her hands, and her maids Sara and Elyn made their way through the crowd. Blonde Elyn was holding a cushion. When the crowd saw what was on the cushion there was much merriment.

Eilwy blushed a deep red when she saw. Two black nipple tassels, presented if they were a great gift.

"You may remember a few years ago, I said that Eilwy's tits weren't big enough to wear tassels," Celia grinned. "She got quite upset at the time. Let's find out!"

Eilwy had no intention of putting them on and shook her head. Rather naked than this! There was a "swish!" behind her and she turned to see Celia brandishing a long, vicious looking cane.

"Put them on or you're getting caned," she sneered. The crowd gave a big, mocking, "Ooooo!" in unison.

Eilwy reluctantly took the tassels from the cushion and stood uncomfortably for a moment. There was an expectant hush in the room. Seeing no option for escape, she slowly and carefully fitted the tassels, one by one, over her nipples. The crowd laughed in delight.

"So I was wrong!" Celia laughed. "I admit it! I was wrong. Eilwy's tiny tits can hold the tassels in place! Who knew?"

Sylla's sharp eyes drifted to Primal Slurtis. His dark haired temptress was rubbing the front of his trousers discretely. Maybe we'll get two birds with one stone tonight, she thought.

"Now Eilwy, dance for us," Celia grinned. "A real, slow, sexy dance. Make those tassels swing like the **** girls we saw in the King's court, if you can. Musicians, play her a tune!"

The bards stuck up a lively jig. Eilwy, who had never danced a step in her life, shook her head.

Swish! Crack!

Eilwy yelped into her gag and hopped as the cane struck her bikinied ass.

Swish! Crack!

The crowd rippled in delight as the second strike made poor Eilwy's ass wobble and tears fill her eyes. Sniffing slightly, she stepped forward. The crowd parted expectantly and formed a circle around her, clapping. She began to dance, all too aware that the men in the audience were mentally stripping her tiny bikini bottoms from her as she did.

"Is that the best you can do, Eilwy?"

"Ha ha, look at her ass wobble!"

"I thought she'd have small tits, but look at them! Look at how the tassels swing!"

Swish! Crack. Another muffled yelp.

"Dance better, Eilwy," Celia purred.

Fearing another stroke of the cane, Eilwy upped her performance. She'd seen plenty of **** dancers over the years, and she knew what they did. She bowed, dived, stretched, jumped, and rubbed up against the men, smelling their sweat and feeling their erections in their trousers. When in range, the women would mockingly push her back, hoping to see her fall and get caned again. Sylla watched with cold amusement.

Eventually the music stopped. Eilwy was exhausted and humiliated. Celia tugged her back to the throne and secured her leash against it. "You may sit at my feet whilst I meet our guests," she whispered. "Bit I should tell you Eilwy that you're little performance has got me quite excited. Once the feast is over, you and I are going to retire somewhere private to.... get to know each other better."