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Pixel in Peril  by Theophilous Bolt
Chapter 2: "In love with leather"

Obediently, Pixel trotted back into the stall, unable to recover her wits from the daze she had been put into by her tormentor. She allowed him to tie her wrists together with the reigns, and lashed them to a ring set in the side of the stall. The huge panther had the curry-brush out again, and went to work on her bedraggled coat, brushing away the sweat and terror of the paddock. She moaned at his touch, stretching her languid mustelid body to meet every stroke, quivering as his giant hands firmly put her wherever he wanted her.

She found her legs opened wide, straddling his massive, muscular legs. She could feel the powerful thighs brush her rump as he leaned over her, teasing out the tangles from her long, chestnut hair and smoothing down the fur along the nape of her long and graceful neck. Her freshly combed tail, luxuriant and silky, flicked and twitched. It brushed against his tight breeches, and she moaned again as she felt the bulge of his sex through them. Another switch of her tail, a slow stroke along the highwayman's package, told her he was erect. The ermine arched her back, presenting her sex, and nickered, whinnying like a horse through her bit.

The big man chuckled deeply, and let the brush drop. She glanced back to see him unbuttoning his fly, black gloved fingers teasing out a cock as big as a tall beer bottle. Her soft, sensuous tail immediately went to it, sliding its furred length along its sensitive underside in a slow, sultry stroke. He growled, a deep and delicious sound, and put his hands at her hips. He lifted her bodily into the air, her long legs instinctively spreading wide, calves hooking back to wrap themselves around his tight rump as she was suspended between the panther and her tethered wrists. She gasped as she felt the head of his huge manhood at the gates to her sex, burying itself in her soft pubic fur, teasing open her swollen lips with its domed head.

Pixel moaned at his touch, but shrieked as he penetrated her... the girth of his shaft was immense, and stretched her womanhood wide as he pulled her onto it. She looked down, past her swaying breasts, and saw his tall, black boots planted firmly in the straw. He didn't move so much as an inch, using his massive strength to move her instead, ramming her body down onto his gigantic length. She screamed again as she felt the mighty cock slam against her cervix, and moaned loud and long as he slowly withdrew. He pulled her onto his sex again, and again, unhurried and confident. His rhythm was seductive in its relentlessness, and she found herself moving with it, groaning with it, and all too quickly, orgasming with it. Her bound hands spread their fingers wide and writhed as she felt the first of her spasms overtake her, shaking her from the tips of her ears to the curling toes inside her pony-boots. He kept on, increasing the tempo, ramming his cock home with greater and greater intensity, her entire body shuddering with every thrust, her pussy gripping the sex of her tormentor in time with his depredations as she came again and again, until it was too much, even for him. With a snarling roar, he came, the jet of his cum blasting deep into Pixel, filling her with its warmth. He seemed to be bottomless, pumping her full of his virility, shuddering, forceful thrusts marking each wave.

It was over, and limp and exhausted, she lay where he set her down, sprawled in the straw, panting for breath through her bit and bridle, hands bound over her head to the ring. With a smirk, the highwayman buttoned himself back up and strode from the stall, leaving her for the night as she was. Slowly, so slowly, the afterglow faded, and the animal submission he had forced on her lifted like a fog. She wept at her state, abused and used by a vengeful man who would stop at nothing to force his will on her. She looked ahead forlornly to morning, and wondered what new indignities she would be made to suffer...

* * *

"You, my pretty little pet, are going to make me a wealthy man," said the highwayman, a gigantic panther with a pelt as soft and black as a moonless midnight in June. His voice was dangerous and deep and as seductive as the serpent in the garden.

"Never! The King's sheriffs are probably scouring the land for me right now, villain!" she said. He had removed her bit and bridle, but her harness, boots and gloves remained, her wrists tied together behind her.

"Aye, and a more bumbling bunch of inbred Southlander get there never was. They could na track a herd of cows through a wheat field, and they sure as sunshine could na track me and mine to here. So, if the King wants his grand-niece back, he'll have to pay through the nose for the privilege. If he doesn't, I have me a fine mare to breed," sneered the brute, "Matter o' fact, I may just keep ye even if ransom is paid. Wouldn't want my stables empty, now would I?"

"Monster! How could you do this to me?" she sobbed.

"With a firm hand and a ready whip, if ye recall. Now, you will write a note to your great-nuncle, his Royal Highness and tell him you're worth a hundred thousand guineas in gold," demanded the highwayman. He loomed like a living battlement; broad and strong, the giant was as big as any two other men put together. Even sitting up, she was shorter than the tops of his cavalryman's boots, each bulging calf almost the girth of her waist by itself. Still, she found a spark of courage inside, and with it the will to defy him.

"I will do no such thing! Write your own criminal demands, blackguard!" she said with all the arrogance she could muster.

"Come now, he'll never believe I haven't stomped the life out of ye unless the letter's penned in your own hand. Now, be a good girl, and agree to write me demands," said the big cat with exaggerated patience, as if dealing with a toddler.

"I said no, and that's all you'll get from me!" she snarled haughtily.

The villain put the toe of his boot to her shoulder, and pushed her roughly onto her back amid the straw on the stable floor. She screamed as he ground his heel onto her breast, squashing and twisting her soft, sensitive flesh, abusing her nipple horribly. He lifted his boot to let her flop and writhe, and then stepped on her again, the broad ball of his foot pressing her breasts flat, his boot-heel digging into her solar plexus, making it almost impossible to breathe. She gazed up and up and up, his huge black boot rising like a tree planted on her chest. Above the towering tops of his boots, his bulging sex was visible through his tight deerskin breeches, his black-furred chest bare and well muscled, his thick neck bent to allow his brilliant emerald eyes with their eerie slit pupils to glare at her. His gauntleted hands were at his hips in an expression of impatience and arrogance and power.

"I don't think you appreciate your situation, Princess. You are in my power, and I can do anything to you I please," the giant told her. He toyed with her breast with the toe of his boot, circling her nipple, testing the softness of her flesh with slow pushes and lifts, letting her fur slide along black leather.

"No, no..." she moaned.

He pressed the tip of his boot-sole to her muzzle, and said "Anything, I said. Now, kiss my boot."

"No!" she gasped, shocked at the very suggestion.

"I can _make_ you do my will, woman, and you won't like the pains I will take to make sure of it," he snarled down at her, "Or rather, the pains _you_ will take."

He stepped on her fulsome bust again, ferociously. His titan's weight pressed down on her like a mountain, bountiful breasts pancaking and her ribs creaking under the pressure. She moaned in pain, and despite herself, her nipples began to harden at the wanton show of force. He took immediate advantage of them, sliding his thick, leather sole along them, tapping them with the toe of his boot, and softly grinding down on them, then more forcefully. She made small sounds, halfway between shrieks of pain and moans of pleasure. He turned his attention to her sex next, teasing open her soft folds with a deft boot-toe, sliding the edge of his sole through her lips and along her clit, and grinding her sensitive nub with a cruel heel. Her hips raised to meet his boot despite herself, eager for the pleasure, awed by the pain, abandoning herself to both. She was soon squirming and sopping with lust at his feet. He watched her closely with a darksome smile, and just as she was about to broach her passion into climax, he stepped away.

"I said, kiss my boot, woman!" he snarled imperiously. Panting and desperate for release, she flipped herself over, hands still tied behind her back, and crawled on her belly over to where he stood, her lips eager to taste his leather. It was a revelation, the powerful smell of leather in her nostrils, the warmth of his foot and the subtle movement of his tendons and muscles within the boot.

She kissed his boot madly, starting at the broad, square toe and working her way up, her lips lingering, parting to lick the leather lovingly. Her mouth paid homage to his power as she moved along the length of his boot, kissing the broad foot, the tall vamp, the tightly fit ankle. She pressed her body to his boot, her soft fur whispering on black leather. Higher and higher she kissed, until her breasts were pressed to its shaft, wrapping themselves to the curve of his mighty leg, her own legs spread wide to straddle his foot. He took up her whole weight with a lift of his toes, a mighty tendon standing out through the leather in the front of the boot. She rubbed her sex against it, raising and lowering herself on her knees to feel the soft leather slide along her swollen, eager netherlips and erect nub. She licked and lapped at his thigh as she made love to his boot, lost in the glory of his power and the pleasure of serving his will. Without realizing it was nigh, she came, a wailing moan escaping her pretty lips as her whole body shuddered with the power of it.

His huge, gauntleted hand wrapped about the base of her skull, tangling in her long, beautiful hair, and drew her attentions higher and higher up his leg, passing the boot-tops, and meeting the supple, soft deerskin of his breeches. She felt the heat of his erection through the leather at her cheek, and didn't fight him when he turned her head so her muzzle could meet it with her hungry, tasting tongue and lush lips. She softly nipped at the sides of the massive, straining member through the leather with tiny, pointed teeth, tongue squirming between them against his throbbing pleasure ridge. She mewed with delight as she smelled his pre, and licked and lapped with abandon, wrapping her legs about his tree-trunk leg, leather on leather, wrists working fruitlessly against her bonds. He unbuttoned his breeches, and she eagerly took his massive cock-head into his mouth, jaws as wide as they could go, soft lips traveling as far as she could manage down the length of his shaft. He exploded into orgasm, and she sucked and slurped and swallowed every last bit, lapping at the base of his balls up to the massive, purpled head, glorying in the slightly sweet and salty taste of his cum, pleased she could serve his pleasure so well.

He made her worship and lick his boots until long after dusk had passed into night, the Princess lost in the daze of pleasure and submission. Pixel had written the ransom note, and then used her newly freed hands to explore his cock, marveling at how dainty and delicate they appeared when wrapped about his massive, masculine member. She skillfully used the softness of the leather on her deft fingers and the fur on her agile tail to tease her master into successive orgasms. No matter how often she brought him to climax, he had more to give, his erection never wavering, his fount of cum endless. His huge hands, filling his buttery-soft gauntlets until the black leather was so taught it creaked, cupped and fondled her breasts at will, brutally pinching and twisting her abused nipples for the pure joy of cruelty. His thick middle finger penetrated her sex as deeply as a normal man's cock would, while his leather-clad thumb toyed with her clit. When he was through taking his pleasure with his captive, wringing every last gasp and moan of pleasure he could eke out of her before she collapsed with exhaustion, he bound her wrists, and hung her from a high hook. The pain and discomfort kept her in the haze of submission, her body jerking with orgasm as she thought back on the evening, on the cruel and sensual power the highwayman had gained over her...

* * *

She sat in the coach, her eyes troubled and teary, wearing an ancient dress that belonged to someone long dead, found in the highwayman's ancient manor. There were four of the King's personal bodyguard riding atop the carriage, and she was left alone to ponder her fate. She was free, free of the rapacious, torturing monster who had kidnapped her, ravaged her and held her for ransom. So why did she feel so deflated, so empty? Her heart sank yesterday when she realized he was turning her over for the money, and now her new freedom felt as constricting and oppressive as the big panther's leather straps. She puzzled over these feelings, and sighed deeply as the landscape rolled by, wishing for things no proper princess should.

Off in the distance, a set of galloping hooves thundered, getting closer... and atop the coach, she heard muskets fire, and soldiers curse as they missed on the swaying roof. The team of horses pulling her coach were whipped to a frenzy, but it was no use... their pursuer gained on them relentlessly, and would likely overtake before the soldiers could reload. As the chase intensified, with the bandit growing closer and closer, Pixel could not help but smile like a madwoman. This time, he was not after money or jewels, but a prize more precious. Her.