Side Story: The Dawn of Depravity at the Life-Ending Banquet Hall
Gloria had been bound to the frame for several hours now. Amid the raucous noise, she heard footsteps approaching from afar. The mask blinded her completely, but she could still make out differences in brightness. The lights flickered on in the banquet hall, once shrouded in darkness. Vulgar laughter from the nobles echoed, mingled with the sharp clacks of servants' footsteps as they poured food and wine. The scents of cuisine, alcohol, and cheap, greasy oil permeated every corner of the hall.
Gloria was positioned right in the center of the dome-shaped venue. Hadn't they noticed her yet?
"What's that thing in the middle there?"
"Ah, today's entertainment. I requested the lewdest-bodied criminal."
"Indeed, even the shadow alone reveals such an obscene figure."
Noblemen's voices boomed with hearty guffaws.
........They still can't see me. And yet, the humiliation is already this intense...
Judging by their voices, accents, and crude speech, they were petty nobles—not even heads of baronies. The sort who wouldn't dare meet her gaze under normal circumstances. And now, they were treating Gloria like a mere drinking snack.
"By the way, what happened to the princess? You said she was coming to your estate for talks."
"I heard she reached the entrance and then returned to the palace. What a waste—she brought it up only to bail."
"But isn't it fortunate she didn't come? This banquet hall could have been exposed."
A corpulent nobleman spoke in a thick, waddling tone. The marquis—apparent lord of this vast mansion-castle—chuckled softly in response.
"Come now. The princess tacitly approves even the southern duke's eccentricities. This is nothing. In fact, I wanted to invite her. She doesn't strike me as cruel—surely she'd revel in it."
He was right, of course. Gloria had been eagerly awaiting the start of this banquet. Not as a spectator, but as the spectacle itself. As a criminal, a drinking snack, a disposable toy worth less than a whore.
Their chatter deepened. Food was arranged, and entertainers—courtesans and dancers—entered to perform. Gloria had researched this banquet; she knew the sequence well. It was almost time.
Nobles with their sex slaves took their seats and conversed. High-class courtesans and dancers began their services in earnest, while the "star" like Gloria waited in the hall's center. The seating area blazed with light, but the dome's core remained dark, hiding her from view. They gazed at her silhouette in the shadows, speculating eagerly on who—or what—hung there. The anticipation itself was part of the fun.
"Now, allow me to introduce tonight's main toy! Behold our lowly sow!"
With the emcee's fluent proclamation, Gloria's vision exploded into blinding white. The cloth over her eyes ignited with light, and gasps of admiration followed.
"Due to personal circumstances, we can't reveal her face—but feast your eyes on this body!"
"Ooooh...."
Everyone groaned in awe at Gloria's voluptuous form—the marquis, the elite whore draped over him, the petty nobles, all of them. Even with her face masked, Gloria felt her skin burning. They're looking. Everyone's looking. At me.
"A truly beautiful—no, obscene body, isn't it? And when you hear this sow's backstory, you'll be shocked!"
The crowd leaned in. The emcee paused dramatically, then bellowed in refined exaggeration:
"This woman was once a noble lady! Despite having a husband, she was arrested multiple times for public indecency, blinded by lust!"
Short bursts of derision rippled through.
"Unsated, she flaunted her body to street beggars and committed bestiality with beasts! A livestock that abandoned all human dignity!"
He mimicked an animal's grunt. Laughter erupted in unison. They were treating Gloria like a clown.
"............♡"
Despite the mask, the surrounding guffaws sent shivers through her. Was this what it felt like to feel eyes upon you? Even the air caressing her skin tingled.
A woman's naked body was her most sacred part—reserved solely for her lawful husband. Save for bathing or grooming, it was forbidden to bare it. And now, that essence, in its most vulgar form, was exposed at this low-tier marquis's banquet. Before hundreds.
Her nipples. Ass. Pussy. Waist. Thighs. Neck. Collarbone. Every inch. Every feminine curve, publicly displayed.
No punishment had even begun, yet Gloria sweated profusely. Steam might as well rise from her skin.
"Puhaha! A fitting path for such a lewd body. Did a sow's soul slip into the wrong vessel?"
The marquis's quip ignited fresh waves of laughter.
"Precisely! She's likely thrilled even now. Simple punishment would be a reward for her."
The emcee snapped his fingers. Footsteps approached from afar—servants from the estate.
"Thus, we shall leave her an indelible mark. On mind and body alike! Starting with this."
Gloria's excited breaths grew heavy with anticipation. She knew what came next. She'd planned it all—this play, too. She'd bribed the emcee, scripted the details for maximum thrill. The plays she craved, tailored to heighten her ecstasy.
Of course, they had no idea the sow before them was Gloria. They never would. Unless... she made a sound.
She wore no ball gag. And many here had heard her voice before. As regent princess, she'd addressed crowds, delivered public speeches.
"Can you see? It looks like an ordinary piercing, yes? But it hides a special function."
Piercing. The word barely left his lips when agony exploded in Gloria's nipple.
"Ukguuk?!"
Her instinctive piggish squeal escaped; she clamped her mouth shut. The nobles roared with laughter at the sound.
Humiliating in itself—but worse, her worry: Did they recognize...? No, please no...
If caught, it was over. Life ended. Exposed before dozens, hundreds of nobles, rumors would spread like wildfire. Whores and slaves would carry it to the masses: the kingdom's regent princess, bound and declaring herself a sow.
That...........that would be.............♡
Utterly terrifying. Blissfully horrifying. Gloria bit her lip hard.
This precipice of ruin was her peak arousal. Servants closed in, piercing her body. The other nipple—agony again; lips crushed in restraint.
"Feigning shame? Holding back pig squeals."
The emcee slapped her massive tits with his palm.
Slap♡ Slap♡
The vulgar echoes filled the hall; Gloria stifled her moans.
How....... dare♡ this wretch....... touch♡ a princess....... me..........♡
Gloria was arrogant at core. Despite her ruin-lust. Despite deeming herself a hopeless slut. She clung to superiority. Chosen blood of the sacred royal line.
Now, that pride shattered utterly. Supreme humiliation. Flecked with rage. Shameful rage. Pleasurable rage. In this scripted scenario, it amplified her ecstasy.
"──────Ugh?!"
Fresh jolt—not nipple, but navel. The unfamiliar pain drew another suppressed cry.
Another sound......♡
No one suspected yet, she hoped. But bound, silenced, uncertain. Someone might eye her suspiciously even now.
Uncertainty. Alone, it birthed a thrill beyond her prior indulgences.
"Ha........... haa..........♡"
The banquet's night had just begun, set to drag past dawn. Gloria thrilled deeper. Her pussy wept uncontrollably.
"And....... finally, the piercing site: her clitoris!"
Gloria swallowed hard. Her clit was her most developed feature—huge compared to most, hypersensitive.
Cold metal touched it. A pin fixed it firmly for piercing.
She gulped; her elegant throat bobbed.
Coming♡ Coming♡ Coming♡ Coming♡ Coming♡ I'm cumming♡ Cumming so hard♡ Ahh.....♡ My clit♡ My never-seen clit♡ My slutty clit, warped by years of masturbation, about to be pierced♡♡♡
And then—snap. Something burst. Lightning agony surged brainward.
"━━━━━━━!@#!!"
Steeled resolve held back the scream. But her chest heaved wildly. Rough pants escaped unchecked.
Breath♡ Even breaths♡ must hold back♡ but.........♡
Gloria shuddered in pain and shame, lewd gasps spilling. Laughter rose from the seats—amused.
Sweat poured; she panted. Droplets traced her lush cleavage, ass crack, pussy lips.
Amid it, the emcee's commentary continued.
"These aren't mere piercings! They project the wearer's emotions!"
A new sex toy from the magic tower—one Gloria had rushed to acquire, pushed development for, only to shelve unused (no one to show). Without this hall, it'd languish forever.
"Red for pain, yellow for shame, pink for pleasure, they say. Let's see.... Puhaha! It's glowing pink!"
Nobles burst into laughter—even whores and sex slaves joined. If they found it pathetic, she was proving ultimate masochist. Hopeless do-M.
"Now, let's dye these piercings red! Everyone, anticipate!"
The start of an unforgettable day. The pivot of Gloria's life.