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THE BONDS OF SLAVERY
Twenty years, seven months and 13 days. The last time since the Queen of Eastern Hueco Mundo saw the warm light of day, felt a cool breeze dance against her porcelain flesh and bask in the simple joys of life. Chaos and strife reigned supreme, a horror that was incomprehensible raping her beloved kingdom of everything she had grown to adore. Where were the masses of loyal followers now? The enthusiastic watchmen and noble adjuchas? Nothing more than rotting corpses fertilising the deceased desert that was once her empire. Everything was ripped from her clutches; her kingdom, her wealth, her followers and her great love. The Primera Espada, slaughtered in cold blood, the bloody rebellion taking their most powerful victim in the form of the one man who could tame the once stubborn royal. Heaven and hell converged on the land of hollows in a horrifying spectacle of terror and death, never before had her people suffered like so. She pleaded for death, clung onto the lifeless body of her lover and let pained tears drench the blood soaked earth in bitter mourning, this was not the perfection she wanted. None of her dreams were fulfilled before the Armageddon, her innermost desires dashed from her conscious as the last breath of life left the cursed land around her. There was no more beauty. There was no more war. There was simply nothing. Nothing but the horrifying realisation that all existence had suffered, that death had pierced the veil of life with its relentless grip.
Miyoko Di Lottersztanna, former ruler of Eastern Hueco Mundo had survived, she endured the torrential carnage and witnessed events that not even someone of her power could comprehend. She was a lost soul, a queen without a throne and a shining beauty amidst the ruins of her once vast land. There was no escape from her loss, the haunting cries of her followers echoing in her mind as she aimlessly wandered the shattered deserts of what was left of Hueco Mundo. Four years, four years of isolation and a descent into deeper madness. Fate, however, deemed it appropriate to punish the wandering royal even further and on a fateful night, her mournful cries echoing in the winds, she was taken. Creatures who had no alliegance snatched up the pristine beauty and kept her as their own. Her struggles were futile, her grief and dementia wracking her mind and body until the only thing left to do was beg for a quick death. Her infamous pride was no but a forgotten wisp of a former life, she held no will to continue living in a world that had ruined her brightest dreams. Miyoko's pleas for an execution were ultimately ignored, the rebel gang of arrancars believing the ragged royal to be too beautiful to kill, such divine beauty had to be shared and tasted...even if she was once their queen. The once infamous monarch, her beauty and power echoed in the poetry of her people was now no more. She was a toy, a pitiful pet and a worthless slavegirl that basked in the fleeting moments of attention from her captors. It was in these twisted moments of abuse, when her 'masters' focused all their violent lust onto her body did she re-envision her days as queen and even if it was for a second, she enjoyed the attention because it told her she was still needed in this world...no matter how dire and hopeless her situation.
***
"WAKE UP YOU WORTHLESS BITCH! THE BOSS WANTS YOU!", bellowed a brutish voice, quickly followed with a sharp strike to a naked woman curled up on a black stone floor. Blotches and bruises adorned her supple milky skin, dirt and grime caking much of the exposed body in a horrendous layer of filth that wasn't entirely from the dust swarming her small cell. Porcelain toes curled from the sudden wake up, petite feet chained at the ankles jerking backwards as the violent blow to her lower spine sent a painful jolt through her body. A shrill gasp escaping the woman's slender throat as the breath was knocked out of her lungs, her bare chest racing after the last ounces of oxygen as her body was abruptly brought back into consciousness. A pained whimper was all the woman could muster as she forced her battered body up onto all fours, her eyes slowly creaking open as she felt the leash around her neck get yanked from outside the musty cell. There was no light within the small space, nothing but four walls and a ragged piece of linen bundled on the floor to keep her warm at night, splatters of blood stained the walls in a grisly depiction of violence that no woman deserved. But morality was a foreign concept to the arrancars who routinely assaulted her dignity, she was nothing more than a piece of flesh...the last remnant of femininity in the barren wasteland.
Without question and head bowed the woman silently crawled after the slobbering ape of a man that tugged at the chain wound around her neck. This was standard procedure, play along with their humiliating rituals and she may just survive another day without having to endure further abuse at the hands of a rabid pack of males. Miyoko had now mastered the art of complete and under submission, her golden eyes, once filled with cunning charm and zealous energy were now nothing more than lifeless orbs. She retained her youthful beauty, but her mind had eroded into bitter nothingness. Twenty years of this. Twenty years of sickening games and humiliating acts of deprivation that she believed not even a hollow was capable of, her captivity had taught her otherwise. Speaking was bad, if she uttered a word other than the occasional "Yes sir" then she was garuanteed a long and arduous night at the whim of her most demented abusers. There was nothing the forgotten royal could do, her willpower had been sapped from her very soul leaving nothing but an empty shell that accepted whatever foul deed the monsters lavished on her body.
"HURRY UP YOU WENCH!", the bull headed arrancar bellowed, violently yanking the leash forward to the post that the struggling woman collapsed onto her elbows. This was demeaning and a torture any woman of her stature (or past stature) did not deserve but she could not cry out, all should could do was yelp in pain and continue the shameful crawl behind the hulking mass of flesh that led the way. He was a particularly nasty individual, an arrancar of immense strength but little intelligence, a creature who giddily basked in Miyoko's pained cries and fruitless struggles. Oh yes, he enjoyed it when she fought back, but snapping her limbs in the right places often taught her a lesson or two, the high speed regeneration of hers simply allowing the brutish beast of a man more of an excuse to assault her body.
The palms of her dainty hands brushed against the cold floor, her scarred knees scraping against the ragged ground as her bound feet desperately inched forward in an embarrassing display. Stray members of the gang, either harassing some other captive female or testing their pitiful abilities on a found corpse would occasionally make a foul comment as the shamefaced Royal crawled passed, some even daring enough give her exposed buttocks a swift slap...just so she knew who was boss. Such abuse was not uncommon and Miyoko tried her best to ignore it. Her major concern, if not her only one was the state of the other captured girls. As the reigning monarch she ensured the females of her land were protected and nurtured, but now all she could do was watch on as her sisters were tossed around like rag dolls. She wanted to erase their terrified screams from her mind, she wished she could comfort the youngest slaves and tend to their horrendous wounds but she could not. They were just like her, bodies to waste away for the rest of eternity, objects of pleasure that 'deserved' nothing more than the mercy of their captors. Even though the world had ended hell still existed and it was in that barren wasteland, where the women were silenced and nothing more than surviving souvenirs from the apocalypse.
Eventually Miyoko managed to make the painful crawl to the leader's chamber, an arrancar only known as Arden Voss, and tossed onto an ornate, most likely stolen carpet at the foot of his makeshift throne. She knew the rules, never look at him in the eyes, always keep her head bowed and never say 'no'. He probably took pointers during her reign as queen, although Arden more than likely improvised, demanding that any slave in his presence must be as naked as the day they were born. A truly disgusting expectation for a man without any compassion or regard for the poor girls who suffered at his hand. Miyoko should of felt fear in his presence but she did not, her humiliation was now nothing more than a bitter self loathing as she bowed before him like some worthless peasant. She was exposed, both physically and mentally, her powers seemingly disappearing with her will to live. Before the apocalypse the geisha would have made quick work of this vile arrancar, but now that she had been reduced to nothing more than a pleasure toy she could find no justification to even fight back. If she rebelled that meant the painful deaths of all the other captive girls, a risk she was not willing to take at all.
"You slept in this morning slave...you know I don't like that", the blonde haired Vasto Lorde crooned with a devilish twang, the sound of his sharpened fingertips tapping against the edge of his armrest penetrating the tension within the atmosphere even further. "I'm considering just handing you over to Braujo as a present for all of his hard work. We both know how much he loves waking you up every morning...", he chuckled menacingly, referring to the bull headed arrancar that summoned the most disgust in the pit of her stomach. "But alas! You're beauty is too radiant to give away so I shall simply force you to watch one of the other girls die tonight...it will teach you a lesson in not being such a lazy whore", Arden gleamed, knowing full well that the safety of the other female arrancars was her biggest worry, simply threatening them often forced Miyoko to beg at his feet for mercy...a gift that is rarely given.
The shivering geisha had to bite her tongue, for if she had not a whole torrent of desperate please would've flooded from her lips and onto deaf ears, she did not want Arden to have the satisfaction of seeing her grovel. Instead she hoped that he was merely bluffing and that his treat was nothing more than a scare tactic to get her out of bed earlier.
"So tell me...what torture would you like to taste today...?