The Fire Princess's Pet

Azula slipped the key into her uniform and sighed with satisfaction. “Now then, ladies,” she said as they strode out of the bedroom, “With that little interruption out of the way, let’s gather a bit of intelligence.”

As they went back downstairs, Azula caught herself of two minds. On the one hand, her nether region tingled and swelled at the thought of their prisoner so helpless, bound and gagged and left in the dark, while they had the run of his home. Having him locked down until they could make use of him later. On the other hand, she wished to see him squirm more; the shock and then fear in his eyes, the way his cheeks bulged when she gagged him, the way he squirmed in his bondage, like a frightened little lop-eared rabbit trapped in a young man’s body. A cute, muscular body, for what it was worth.

They reached the ground level and found his light tablets again, and the three intuitively poured through them, taking in data from some kind of “world wide web” in a matter of seconds. As she effortlessly took in and retained worlds’ worth of information, Azula’s mind drifted to their captive again…

Whenever she returned to the Fire Nation, she gave a brief thought to taking him with her. Not for execution or a sentence to the Boiling Rock, but maybe they could quietly keep him at her beach house, to be her, Mai and Ty Lee’s personal toy. Their plaything, to do with as they pleased.

They'd strip him naked and keep him in bondage at all times, but to avoid getting dull, they could put him in different poses each day! One day, they’d string him up off the floor by his arms, then tease and **** him as he dangled between them. The next, they’d fold his legs up and hogtie him, then secure him to their dinner table, make him their centerpiece. And the next day, she’d have him splayed out spread eagle across her bed, each hand and foot tied to a bedpost, hers to explore.

At first, she thought she wanted him gagged at all times as well, but then she thought about putting that pretty little mouth of his to work, and the heat between her legs flared. She imagined him on his knees with his head between her legs, or on his back as she sat on his face. She'd demean and **** him and **** him to pleasure her, as justice for his disgusting groping. She fantasized about breaking him in. Training him. Conditioning him.

Years later, when she was Fire Lord, whether she was overstressed or overjoyed from a day of ruling the world, she’d always have a little secluded suite to retreat to, where she’d find her pet, bound and gagged until she arrived to give him purpose.

That’s what she thought, however, until she found her own name on this world wide web. From something called an...‘Animated Television Series'. Focusing in, she came across a most confounding word:

‘Fictional’