She was not used to unnecessary things.

Function was her first priority– in her swordsmanship, leadership, and daily life.

It was always a surprise to her when others did not behave the same way. Lucina
would have understood if the bandits who had jumped her had bound her hand and
foot. She might have even understood the necessity of a gag.

She did not understand the purpose of the extensive bondage wrapped around her
torso; she only knew that it caused her modest curves to bulge in a way that made
her figure unmistakably womanly. An angry blush rose to her cheeks when she
caught sight of a ruffian leering at her from outside the dungeon cell she was being
held in– at the sight of his eyes ogling her body.

She wanted to lunge for him, but ropes lashed her ankles to her thighs and kept her
firmly in place.

She wanted to strangle him, but her arms were pinned together uselessly behind
her, leaving her unable to do anything but squirm.

She wanted to scream at him, but the wooden bit lodged between her teeth
reduced her voice to nearly-unintelligible gibberish.

All she could do was glare furiously as the bandit called one of his fellows over. A
tall woman joined him at the cell’s entrance, and the two leered down at the captive
princess with ill intent written over their features.

With a smirk and shared nod, the two sauntered into the enclosed space. Despite
herself, Lucina tried to shuffle backwards, away from the grasping hands that were
extending out towards her.

Her efforts were for naught. Lucina winced and moaned when she felt her breasts
being groped by rough, callused fingers. She started to thrash, only to be stopped
by the ferocious pain in her breasts as her captors held them fast in their grips.

“I’d say no more of that, dearie, but...honestly, I don’t mind.”

The man’s voice was grating to her ears, made all the worse by the constant
kneading motion of his hand. Lucina felt a tear spring to her eye at the sheer
indignity of her situation, even as she did her best to glare defiantly up at her
tormentors.

Her world spun as the woman slapped her across the face with her free hand. She
could not even fall over given the hold on her breasts and the tether tied to her arm
bindings; all she could do was slowly reset herself, her breathing uneven.

“Oh, aren’t you a pretty little thing? I don’t think that Lady Grima will be too upset
with us if we rough you up some before delivering you…”

Confirmation of her eventual fate sent a pang of despair lancing through her core.
Thoughts of all the torment to come before then, however– that occupied the front
and center of her mind.

The two bandits turned to shout at more of their comrades, and she heard the
sounds of countless rushing feet– then a chorus of mocking jeers as more and more
people flooded into the little cell.

And then, hands were all over her.

Commission by: user/6434573 »

Description/Story by: https://www.deviantart.com/ventidespresso