"You folded like a first year duelist. And for what? A chance to wrap your thirsty loins around my Tylo? After all that you have over me - the riches, court, the throne, when that time comes - you want even this? Even now you flush with shame. Look at you." 
Kandria only glowered at her as the victor raised her arm and addressed the few, observing arbiters. "Let the tribunal witness my victory, and sanction this well deserved humiliation."

Nodding, a ceremonial figure in bright robes stood forward. "As you know, my lady, the Denn ritual has been kept for decades, preserving peace among the families. And this is..." He cleared his throat, gesturing vaguely. "...unusual. You are bound by blood, and she will be Queen. Will you not reconsider?" 
"What, merely spitting at her feet, a feeble gesture, after she tried to indenture my lover? Far too good for her. If she can't keep her urges in check, we may as well show off what a slut my 'noble' half sister is. But first... Kandria: relinquish your suit of Tylo, and swear never to pursue him again or attempt to purchase rights to the estate he is bound to."

Gritting her teeth, Kandria spat, "You bitch! You... you know I have to. Now. I... I just..." Unexpectedly, her eyes grew moist, and she sputtered. "I didn't even want Tylo," she blurted out hoarsely.

"It was you - you were always the strong one, mother let you do all the fencing you wanted, travel everywhere while I was stuck with my duties, and all I ever wanted was to be you, be with you, have you love-" she abruptly paused, face reddening at the outburst. Barely audible, she went on, "I thought maybe if... you no longer had him, wanted him... you might want...

Miona paused, reached down, grabbing her half sister's face firmly between both hands, despite her wincing and trying to wriggle away. Their eyes met, only for their lips to come together right after, in a long and sensual kiss. The elven girl whispered, "You knew I would do this to you. I said I would. You could have sent a champion."

After nodding, a moment of hesitation - and, Miona noted, a little squirming around on the humming toy she was bound to - Kandria whispered, "I... maybe I wanted this."
"Oh, you little fool," Miona breathed. "Why did you never say anything? Also - Tylo shares me with his brother." She giggled at Kandria's shocked expression, and the lusty gasp that escaped her lips, betraying her efforts to conceal the state of ecstasy she was rapidly heating up to. "You'll make a nice little fourth wheel to roll around with us."
"Now," she cooed, stepping into the harness of the strapon as Kandria moaned, already arching her back in anticipation, "nobody said this couldn't be fun, instead... right?"

Indeed, though, all the annals of the kingdom recorded little of the duel or what followed, the silence of the arbiters being a sacred duty. History noted only that Miona came into the employment of Kandria's court, conducting regular private counsel with the soon to be Queen. While there was some occasional heavy lifting, the job might sometimes be harder than anticipated, and her duties were binding, at least the perks were the perkiest.

The criteria to be recruited into the ranks of royal courtesans was simple: an applicant need only hold her orgasms for the final ten minutes, and then cum immediately on command at the very end. All Moneda had to do was hold out at the very end to fail, and she could enter again next month, trading an incredible sex adventure for a small risk, practically nonexistent, of becoming a sex slave. The bell rang, warning her of the end stretch, and she did her best to hold out through the end and spoil the test... despite the stud trying to fuck her into a state of bliss, and doing a good job, at that. If only she had known about the aphrodisiac properties of the concubinator's cum that had been soaking inside her for hours. "You may climax now, slave," she heard, and a rush of involuntary pleasure collapsed her into a sticky puddle in exhaustion. The last thing Moneda heard as a free woman was a bell chime and robotic voice coming from the bio-sensor tech. "This slut has - passed."

And bizarre as those were, at least they'd had a choice. No paddlings for Berkely and Saffron, they both volunteered to have dinner from a trough of cum instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Saffron raise her head, "But why - what do you want with-" she managed, before one of the handlers pushed her face down into the warm goo. "You speak when spoken to! Now, are you going to finish your dinner and say thank you after? Hm?" A tense moment passed while Saffron struggled, and eventually something that might have been "Yes, sir" burbled out.

"That's right," their captor nodded, "now, we were about to let you two little piggies off to bed time, but we can't just let this slide. One of our studs here," he nodded at a handler standing off in the corner, "is going to enjoy one of your asses for your little outburst, ladies. Either the one who doesn't gobble up all of her dinner, or maybe just the one with the most plump looking rear. So, clean your plate."

Berkely noticed, with less outrage than she expected, Saffron stealing a glance at the handler - no doubt at his crotch, that whore. Berkely only despised her less than their low-born slave because she was her sister. Berkely feigned needing to take a disinterested breath and subtly arched her back... two could play at this game.
 

Soft, barefoot footsteps padded into his chamber, and a faint hint of perfume followed. Lord Darius of House Sterling, a cunning strategist and politician, was still stumped at the game which was played here. Undoubtedly there would be holo-recordings, and extortion of the worst sort to follow all of this. He would need Lady Sterling and their two daughters to be focused and well prepared for the absolute shit storm that was sure to follow the end game - whatever or whenever that might be.

In the meantime, he had been restrained in lavish surroundings, servants waiting on him hand and foot. No word about ransom to Darius, or even dialogue. The only torture, however, if it can even be called that, were the locked blindfold, and the courtesans who massaged his restrained body with oil while performing various sexual acts on him, Usually, he was embarassed to admit, to satisfactory completion.

Silence ruled most of the day, but he'd decided there must be an audience of some sort. On occasion, after the oil, one of the courtesans danced to soft music, or so he could assume from the sound of her feet. It always ended with her body on his, her hands guiding his shaft inside her, and eventual gratifying release, even if his own helplessness infuriated him. Truth be told, he decided, there seemed to be less and less reason to resist. It's not as if he could stop it.

In any case, soft thumping to the right of the chamber usually accompanied the carnal act after the dance. The timing suggested to him it could be applause knocked on a glass window. A useful fact for a future escape, Darius decided. For now it would do to make the most of this strange situation, wouldn't it? Planning takes time, after all.

It was only ten days in, and Lady Selachi of House Sterling had already stopped resisting entirely. She had come to realize that the thorough scans they were subjected to at the start of this whole ordeal must have been more sophisticated than she suspected. Unlike her naive daughters, she understood that all of her "punishments," even the humiliations, fulfilled her secret fetishes. The equipment and expertise put to their captivity were actually impressive.

She still played along, and pretended to agonize over the choices given to her. But there was no hiding how sopping wet she'd been, when handed from cum shower to getting tied up and having her ass stuffed and pounded like a cheap whore. She'd even stammered "thank you," at the end, and hardly been ashamed at it. There was just one thing that still truly infuriated her about this whole scandalous ordeal, what they had that bitch of a lowborn servant doing - if only she had beaten her twice as hard, before all of this, when she still had the chance... 
 

A gentle chime rang, moments before the automatic door opened on Gwen's room. She had been stretching her lithe form in the nude, and held the provocative pose as the handler entered. She had always especially enjoyed dancing, which surprised those who knew that before her servitude as a slave, she had studied Deepfake AI, and had been quite skilled. "Ma'am," he said, not averting his gaze in the slightest. "I believe we are ready for you..." Gwen nodded. "How are our guests?"

The handler touched a button on his wristband, and a holoboard sprang to life from it. He read off of it, and Gwen reflected on the lot of them. The two sisters, who would knock food off the table just to spit at her and kick her while she scrubbed. Their mother, the Lady Sterling, who had Gwen's friend beaten within an inch of his life for the audacity of thinking she could visit on a property so clearly above her station. None of them deserved as good as they were getting... or Lord Sterling, for that matter. The handler cleared his throat.

"The female subjects are coming along nicely with their standard submissive training. Their, hmm, preferences are accounted for, as are the supplements, and they should be fully auto-submissive before their stay is over, just as they requested." Gwen nodded and asked, already knowing the answer, "What does that mean?"

"It means self-reinforcing submission - er, that simply means once we know how to get them off, we can easily condition them to get off on submission. Commands of a sexual nature become... difficult to resist."

Gwen considered the luck that the safari planet Wynn-Jackstadt also had one of the most seedy resorts hidden away at the pole. A well-kept secret except to the privileged and those who wait on them, the pole boasted a BDSM compound the size of a city which serviced the most elite and perverse in the galactic empire. It had been a simple matter for Gwen to doctor a holovid of each of the family members speaking a safeword, fake a few signatures, and change the landing port from Jackstadt A to Jackstadt B. No more safari, hello bondage adventure extraordinaire. 

"And my... husband," she inquired, slowly lowering her raised leg as she came out of the stretch and examined the paint she had chosen to dance in. The lie came easier every time.

"Mm, yes. The male subject A is ready for your attention. We have Subject C ready, as per her request."

Gwen nodded. "Thank you, that will be all." She considered the possibilities. Lady Gwen of House Sterling... it had a nice ring. With any luck, Lord Darius would be released from this with the realization that his dearest Selachi was useless in the political arena. Gwen would be at his side to deflect all of the political fallout that might or might not ensue... and of course, her silence would be worth gold. The despicable sisters would surely no longer bother her. And at the worst, Gwen decided, the look on Selachi's face every day made it all worth it.

She pressed the button that made the door to Darius' room slide open. Music flowed, and she flowed with it, dancing around his restrained, oiled and visibly excited body. From behind the glass window nearby, Lady Selachi watched on, eyes livid, as Gwen smiled at her and took Darius' throbbing manhood in hand...