There Are No Bad Bitches
In Veronica's office in the Lord's Mansion, a refreshing breeze slipped through the open window, teasing the envelopes of documents on the desk. The lord of Isis Territory herself, Veronica, stood composed as she watched the knights marching out from the training grounds.
Perfectly in sync, not a single one straying or disrupting the formation—the knights moved as one body, their every footfall unified. Atop the reviewing stand in the training grounds, her daughter Sylvia Isis was seeing off the rear of the column: the "male" knights departing for years of rigorous training in the north.
Sylvia, hands resting on the hilt of her rigidly held sword and face set in grim resolve, gazed at the departing figures. She turned her head slightly. Through the dust clouds kicked up by the knights' boots, her eyes shifted toward the Lord's Mansion—specifically Veronica's office. She locked eyes with Veronica, who was watching her.
A nod. No words were exchanged, but a glance alone told them everything: what the other was thinking, what she would say. Veronica held her daughter's gaze for a long moment—those sapphire-blue eyes so unlike her own—then flashed a small smile she reserved for no one else.
Veronica watched to the end as the knights, led by Kandor at the front with the white lily flag held high, marched in step under his command. Then a hand settled on her shoulder.
"So, the day has finally come."
And with a soft rustle, the clothes draped over Veronica's body slid to the floor.
Her eyes, which had gazed at the knights' retreating backs with a look that evoked reverence, affection, and respect, now burned with contempt and disgust.
"Finally, the most annoying cocks in this territory are leaving."
What would those once-loyal knights, who had trusted and followed her, say if they saw her now? It didn't matter what they said. She called herself not a human, but a sow—and she served not a human, but an orc.
"No more need to wear these filthy human rags."
Rip! Rip! She tore off the clothes with her bare hands, as if even undressing them filled her with loathing. Let anyone see—it didn't matter.
Her massive breasts spilled free from the ruined bra, the piercings on her nipples glinting in the sunlight.
"I am Master's bitch. Every strand of hair, every drop of blood belongs to him. If he says strip, I strip. If he says dress, I dress."
Veronica stood utterly naked. She leaned her enormous breasts against the windowsill and beckoned gently to Sylvia below, who looked up with envious eyes. Sylvia responded in kind, brazenly hiking up her skirt without a care for onlookers, exposing her bare pussy.
"That girl..."
How could she display such a fuckable body without a shred of shame? The others were too focused on the knights to notice, but if anyone so much as glanced at Sylvia, she'd flash her pussy in an instant.
"Master loves showing us off to them. It's not bad for a bitch."
Wasn't it natural to flaunt your exclusive spoils, your treasures, to others? To an orc, their greatest treasure was bitches like them. Better to show more—hiding it would be the real sin. That was the mindset every orc bitch should have.
So Veronica deliberately thrust out her chest toward the portrait of her late ex-husband on the office wall.
"..."
No guilt, no apologies. If anything, she felt deep shame for having given her virginity—meant for Master—to a pathetic human male like that. She'd once prostrated herself before Master all night, sobbing and begging forgiveness. But gracious Master had embraced this bitch and absolved her sin by granting her Sylvia.
"Nngh...♥"
Recalling his boundless mercy, tolerance, and that magnificent cock, Veronica flushed and rubbed her thighs together.
Once her mortal enemy, now her god—Veronica worshipped the orc like a devout believer. Without a touch, her pussy was already dripping, prepared. Of course she didn't wipe it. Among sows, it was rule: always ready to be mounted by Master.
Veronica smiled warmly at Sylvia's wide-eyed, aroused stare, then rose from the windowsill.
"Preparations must be ready by now."
She spun gracefully away from the window and strode to the office door, flinging it open without hesitation.
The maid startled by the sudden opening blinked her round eyes at Veronica standing there, arms spread wide like the door itself, fully exposed.
"Lady Veronica?"
"Have you prepared as I instructed?"
Veronica stood shamelessly naked, legs splayed wide to display her pussy. One might expect a scream, but the maid gazed at her with awe and bowed her head.
"Yes, ma'am. You can move now."
"Good."
"And..."
"Ah, almost forgot."
Veronica eyed the maid before her with satisfaction—this late-bloomer had fully blossomed into a lewd bitch like herself. She accepted the red collar the maid offered and fastened it around her neck.
"Woof! Woof!"
"You look so beautiful!"
The maid giggled as Veronica dropped to all fours—knees not even touching the floor, ass high—and circled playfully. Grabbing the leash, the maid tugged, and Veronica eagerly led the way.
The territory's lord crawled on all fours before her servant like a dog, and the servant watched her lord's debasement with reverence.
Unlike the new bitch-in-waiting, Lenaris Nightwalker, Veronica was making a point: she was fully tamed. This was the true model of a bitch, demonstrated in the flesh.
"Oh my, Erica, out for another walk?"
A brown-haired maid passing by greeted cheerfully the one walking Veronica on her leash. She didn't even glance down at Veronica—treating her like she didn't exist, truly like a dog. Veronica licked her chops in satisfaction.
She leaned in to lick the hand of her (temporary) master's close colleague, as a good dog would—
Smack!
Yelp!
"Bad girl! No, Veronica!"
The maid yanked the leash and smacked Veronica's ass without mercy. The blow left a handprint, drawing a genuine canine whimper from Veronica's lips.
Drip, drip—
"What is this, Veronica? I'm punishing you, and you're drooling like that?!"
Smack! Smack! Smack!
"Yip! Yelp! Yeeeelp?!"
Her servant was indulging her walk, yet Veronica dared get aroused without permission—worse, her pussy leaked even under punishment. The maid called her name and spanked harder.
It might seem rude, but this was at Veronica's own orders: treat her like a real dog for a while. To set an example for well-trained orc bitches—and the growing harem—to show unwavering loyalty, especially with Master wanting a dark elf bitch soon. How to train her? How to break her? Veronica, as Master's faithful servant, was demonstrating from the basics.
And the corrupted bitches in the mansion seized the chance for petty revenge against this uppity sow of higher status. They'd smack her ass at every opportunity or steer her walks through mud puddles.
Where there's demand, supply follows. The spanking maids and the delighted Veronica were a perfect match.
Her lordly dignity gone, thrilled at truly becoming a bitch, she barked and panted like one. Perfectly fallen as Master's sow, Veronica was transforming this historic mansion—handed down for centuries—into his playground: a den where perpetually aroused bitches waited, brimming with lust and pussy juice for endless breeding.