Jasmine had woken from sleep to find herself whimpering. Not because of her situation, or her humiliation, or her fear of what might happen today – but whimpering with need. Her mind was filled with the memory of how Jafar’s cock had tasted, and the knowledge that she needed to taste it again.
She knew it was Jafar’s magic – a correction to her “obedience” – and yet she still couldn’t help herself. She was almost sick from her need to taste the vile sorcerer’s sperm.
The door to her room burst open, and the guards appeared. “All right, princess,” said the lead guard – Jasmine had learned his name was Kamran. “Time for your leash.”
But the chain he was holding out wasn’t the one that he had clipped to her collar yesterday. This one ended in not one, but two clips – and these were more clamps than clips.
Jasmine realised she was completely nude. She had slept naked, eager to be out of the clothes she had been so miserable in yesterday. She cast around for where she might have put the garments – as revealing as they were – but they were not within sight.
“Just be a good girl and offer up those fuckbags,” said the second guard, Farhad.
“My – what do you mean?” asked Jasmine, instinctively covering her breasts.
“This is a new kind of leash, princess,” said Kamran. “It goes on your slutmelons.”
Jasmine realised the clamps at the end of the leash were intended to connect to her nipples. “No!” she protested, and tried to back away.
It was no use. The guards were upon her, and they were stronger than her. Farhad slapped her across the face, then both guards pried her legs apart, laughing at the sight of her royal pussy. Rather than attempting to pull her arms away from her tits, they instead began spanking her unprotected twat – SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
Jasmine shrieked, and tried to bring her legs together – but couldn’t. The blows to her cunt hurt immensely. On the fifth slap, she finally gave up, and moved her hands from her breasts.
They slapped her pussy once more, for good measure, and then Farhad reached down and attached the leash clamps to each of her nipples.
The clamps hurt. They crushed each of her nipples agonisingly – and when Farhad pulled on the leash, it became clear they would not easily be pulled from her tits. As the guard yanked at her breasts, Jasmine was forced to stand, or be literally pulled to her feet by her fuckbags.
Then they were off through the palace, Jasmine nude and tit-leashed, all the way to Jafar’s throne room.
Jafar was waiting for her – sitting on his serpent throne. As normal, to one side of him floated the glowing blue form of the genie, and on the other was Jasmine’s father, his eyes still dull and vacant, seeing only what Jafar’s hypnotic magic showed him.
Jafar was grinning, and as he saw Jasmine dragged into the room by her tits, he twitched his robes aside, to reveal his erect cock. It twitched eagerly as the guard Kamran gave the tit leash a cruel extra tug, causing Jasmine to lose her balance and fall to all fours.
“Unleash the wench,” commanded Jafar, and the guards obeyed. Jasmine squealed as the blood rushed agonisingly back into her crushed nipples.
“Look at me, princess,” said Jafar, and Jasmine raised her head. She made a little noise as she saw his cock – a noise of pathetic, undeniable need.
“Do you like it?” asked Jafar. “Crawl, and receive your morning treat.”
Jasmine’s face flushed. She did not want to crawl – not for anyone, least of all this disgusting man. She even went so far as to begin to stand… but then a thought struck her. If she stood, Jafar might not just slap and punish her… he might also refuse to let her taste his cock. And as hateful as the idea of servicing the man’s rod was, now that she could see it, she could not deny how desperate she was to taste it.
She hated Jafar. She hated his magic. But she had no choice.
Slowly, she crawled nude on all fours across the throne room floor, her tits dragging on the cold tiles, her ass wiggling appealingly.
“I say!” said her father suddenly, without prompting. “She looks rather good like that, don’t you think, Jafar? Very erotic.”
“Indeed, your Majesty,” drawled Jafar, still staring at Jasmine.
“I hate you,” said Jasmine, angrily, still crawling. “I will always hate you.”
“We shall see,” said Jafar. “Now, tell me, princess. How have you been a disappointing slut today?”
Jasmine bit her lip, her cheeks flushed. She didn’t want to answer. She reached Jafar’s feet, and waited, blushing, wanting to turn her head away, but simultaneously transfixed by the hypnotic sight of Jafar’s cock.
“Princess?” urged Jafar. “Don’t make me ask again. And do be honest. You know that your tiger Rajah so hates dishonesty.”
Jasmine remembered Jafar’s threat to let her pet tiger rape her in her sleep.
“Obedience,” she muttered.
Jafar raised an eyebrow. “Obedience?” he said. “And how has the princess been disobedient this morning?”
Farhad stepped forward, and answered for Jasmine. “She resisted your new leash, your Magnificence!”
“Oh, did she?” laughed Jafar. “Very well, princess. Then your new geas today shall be a binding of obedience. When a man tells you you are to be leashed, you will submit, and present yourself appropriately for leashing.”
Jasmine gazed up at Jafar, once again mentally wishing that she could strike him dead with her gaze alone. But he just laughed.
“Now be a good whore and accept the binding by tasting my cock, princess,” he said.
And, given permission, Jasmine could resist her desire no longer. She leant forward and took the whole head of Jafar’s cock in her mouth, sucking at it convulsively, her tongue lusting for the taste of his pre-cum. She moaned with heat as she sucked down the drop of sperm on the tip of his cock, and then began enthusiastically pumping her face up and down on his cock, hoping for more.
“Enough!” roared Jafar. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her violently off his penis. Jasmine whimpered, wanting to return to it. Jafar had to hold her there nearly a half-minute before she regained her composure enough to stop struggling.
Within her, she could feel the magic settling in. The taste of cum had changed her. She *would* submit to being leashed when a man called upon her. Any man. Forever. She gasped, a broken half-sob, before willing herself to breathe deeply and evenly.
“Now take her away, and have her dressed for her job at the tavern,” said Jafar. “Oh, and use the *other* new leash.”
Kamran made a whistling sound, as one might use to summon a dog. “Leash time, princess,” he laughed.
Blushing, Jasmine turned – her body acting by itself, leaving her no control over her movements – and felt herself cupping her tits, offering them up to be leashed.
Kamran laughed. “Oh, not this leash, princess,” he said. He held up a different chain. This one ended in only a single clamp. “This one goes somewhere far more painful. Spread your legs wide, be a good girl.”
With horror, Jasmine found herself standing, spreading her legs apart, and then using her hands to spread open her pussy lips to give the guard access. She fought with herself, tried to overrule the magic – but it was no use. No matter what she wanted, her body waited calmly, submissively, for the awful leash.
Or at least, it was calm up until Kamran reached between her legs and snapped the clamp closed on Jasmine’s clitoris. Then she squealed, and sobbed – and sobbed harder as Kamran tugged on it, and Jasmine discovered for the first time exactly how painful and demeaning it was to be paraded nude through her childhood home on a clitoris leash.
Jasmine quickly realised she was being led to the apartments of the Royal Tailor – but when she arrived, instead of the somewhat effeminate older man she had been expecting, she was instead confronted by a mature woman with close-cropped silver hair, a large bosom, and a rather practical outfit of tight pants and blouse.
“Well, don’t you look pretty?” said the woman. “You won’t know me. I’m Zohrah, and his Magnificence had me hired recently for my experience in unconventional clothing. He’s tasked me to dress you for this tavern expedition he has in mind – and given me some fairly explicit directions.”
The guards unclipped Jasmine’s leash as the woman spoke – and Jasmine screamed again. The pain of having a clamp released was far worse than the pain of it going on. And yet, somehow, she realised she was still aroused. What was wrong with her? Or should she count her blessings that this aroused her? Wouldn’t it be more traumatic to go through all this dry-cunted?
“First we’ll fit you with the belt,” said Zohrah. “I expect you’ll be wearing this one a lot.” She secured a well-made belt of dark leather around Jasmine’s waist. Jasmine thought it was actually quite attractive, and it was supple and soft enough that it didn’t chafe at her bare skin – although it still felt hard and odd.
The belt’s unique feature was two loops of leather behind Jasmine’s back, and Zohrah took her hands and put them through the loops. A moment later, the loops drew tight, and Jasmine’s hands were trapped behind her back, keeping her in a posture that left her vulnerable, with her tits pushed forwards.
“The mechanism to secure and release your hands is quite simple,” said Zohrah. “Anyone can work it fairly quickly – except, of course, for you. It simply can’t be done by the person whose hands are trapped.”
Jasmine was becoming alarmingly accustomed to being helpless – and this particular instance of it, involving the feeling of fine leather, and the commanding woman in front of her, actually felt embarrassingly *pleasant*. She tried to tell herself that a princess should never be happy to be trapped… but then she was distracted by the next item of “clothing” that Zohrah raised.
It was another strip of leather, and Jasmine at first was confused. Another belt? Why?
But it turned out this one went around her chest. It looped around the base of each of her breasts, and then drew tight, causing her tits to bulge lewdly. The rest went around her back, securing the belt in place like a bra.
“This will draw attention to your breasts, princess,” said Zohrah, “and make them more sensitive to pleasure and pain. There’s a release catch at the back which releases the tension and lets the blood circulate again, and your supervisor will need to operate that every few hours to keep you nice and healthy.”
Jasmine whimpered – but then her eyes widened as she saw what was coming next.
It was another strap of leather – but this one had two green protrusions emerging from its centre. Each was about the size and thickness of a cucumber, tapering down towards their tip – but what drew Jasmine’s attention was the protrusions were *moving*. They were squirming back and forth of their own volition – attached firmly to the leather, but *writhing* with a mind of their own. They were *alive*.
Jasmine backed away violently as Zohrah approached with the strap, and the guards had to grab her.
“I know, princess,” said Zohrah, soothingly. “I know. This is a product of his Magnificence’s magic – a simple spell of animation. The belt is alive – but mindless, and harmless. It exists to stimulate you, nothing more.”
“Stimulate me?” asked Jasmine, not understanding, still horrified by the writhing green phalli on the belt – but then, she did understand, as the guards pulled Jasmine’s legs apart.
“No! No!” shrieked Jasmine, and tried to pull her legs free – but it was no use. Zohrah moved the belt between her legs, and she felt the green tentacles push their way inside her. The larger one slipped eagerly between her wet pussy lips and up inside her fuckhole. The other probed at her anus, pushing at her sphincter gently, once, twice – then she felt a squirt of some liquid at her ass, and squealed, and as she squealed the tentacle made another probe, and slipped up into her virgin asshole.
With both tentacles inside, Zohrah pushed the belt flush against Jasmine’s crotch, and clipped it into connection with her waist belt, holding it snuggly in place between her legs.
Jasmine continued to wail and flail in the guard’s arms. The tentacles were still wiggling inside her! Not fucking her as such – they didn’t have the traction for an in-and-out motion – but writhing against her internal walls, sometimes pushing together so that it felt like they were almost touching inside her, and other times moving in different directions, pulsing and flexing inside her holes.
“Get it out!” she shrieked. “Get it out!”
Zohrah shook her head. “That’s staying inside you, princess,” she said. “His Magnificence said he wanted you to get used to being constantly violated.”
Jasmine paid no attention to her. “Get it out!” she demanded.
Zohrah shook her head, sadly. “Well, it’s the gag next, I suppose,” she said, and took out another piece of leather. Jasmine struggled even harder when she saw it, because this had yet another living appendage on it – a green, wiggling protrusion shaped like a tongue. As Zohrah brought it closer to her, Jasmine made the mistake of opening her mouth to scream – and as soon as she did, the tongue was in her mouth, and the belt was being secured behind her head, tightly gagging her.
And Jasmine *did* gag. For a moment she thought she might vomit – which would have been a bad idea while gagged. It was like being the victim of a particularly aggressive tongue-kiss – except the tongue never left her mouth. It lay on top of her own tongue, pressing it down. It didn’t wiggle so much as pulse, like a muscle…
.. and it had a taste. A taste she couldn’t immediately identify….
“I know,” said Zohrah. “It tastes like your cunt, yes?”
It did. Jasmine wanted to gag again.
“It’s got a little enchantment on it,” said Zohrah. “It’s linked to those wiggly boys in your ass and pussy. You see, when you’re aroused, it will taste like your cunt, in proportion to how aroused you are. You’ll literally taste your own arousal. And when you’re happy, or proud, it will taste like urine – because Jafar thinks it’s funny to associate those things in your mind. And when you’re about to orgasm, it’ll generate a strong taste of sperm, just before you cum – so in time, you’ll be trained to cum when you taste sperm. Understand?”
Jasmine couldn’t speak around the tongue gag – and didn’t even want to try, for fear of provoking the thing in her mouth to move or writhe. She just nodded. She felt miserable – and the taste of her cunt in her mouth just drew her attention to the fact that she was somehow still aroused despite having three of her holes violated by living magical tentacles. She felt tears forming in her eyes.
“Well, that’s the tricky parts done,” said Zohrah. “Now for the rest.”
Jasmine was dressed in a pair of gauzy pants – not as see-through as yesterday’s, which was a blessing. Zohrah did her hair up, and placed a tiara on Jasmine’s forehead. “Jafar wants everyone to know you’re the princess,” she explained. She did Jasmine’s make-up – a surprisingly subtle scheme, that still emphasised Jasmine’s sexual arousal – and completed the outfit with a pair of high-heeled shoes.
Jasmine wasn’t accustomed to high-heeled shoes – a foreign fashion – and found herself tottering dangerously on them as she tried to walk. She felt terrified. With her hands behind her back, if she fell forward she would take the full force of the impact on her tits – if she was lucky!
And the tentacles were still wiggling inside her. The one in her anus felt particularly strange. She had never realised that penetrating that particular hole could bring her sexual pleasure, and yet now it was hard to think of anything else.
Farhad the guard swung the tit leash in front of her. “Here, princess!” he said. “Walkies!”
Jasmine blushed, and felt herself pushing her tits forward to be leashed. She winced as the clamps bit into her nipples – it hurt even more with her tits constricted by the belt. And yet somehow the pain just fed into the chaos of vulnerability, violation, pain, pleasure, arousal, and humiliation that she was trapped in, and made her pussy clench delightfully against its wiggly intruder, and suddenly, as Farhad pulled sharply on her tits to make her walk, she felt the sudden taste of cum in her mouth – and a moment later, she was orgasming, shuddering, falling to her knees, not caring that it made the leash yank agonisingly on her fuckbags. She was crying, and moaning, and her tongue was licking the tentacle tongue in her mouth, swallowing its fake cum, and the intruders in her pussy and ass didn’t care that she was cumming – they just kept wiggling…
The guards were laughing at her – roaring, cruel, degrading laughter – and to Jasmine’s immense shame, her response to the laughter was to find herself orgasming again.
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