Tales of Morveria: The Old-Fashioned Prince
This story is a direct sequel to "The Modern Princess." It follows Morlys, and I would describe it as "romantic af." :3
A buddy of mine once said, "you must write what you wish, when you wish. Otherwise, it becomes a job!" Well, this is what I wanted to write, and I typed it out in a few hours. This one's for you, AlecAnaconda. Thanks for keeping it real.
Tales of Morveria: The Old-Fashioned Prince
Sitting in a chair and staring at the balcony, Morlys' dull eyes stare blankly at the sea. The squawking of the gulls is quickly fading into nothing, echoing in his head as his mind reels. The shimmering waves dance before his eyes but he pays not attention to them. He's lost in his own thoughts. A hand reaches out and rests atop his shoulder. He turns his head. The Vostii's claws might appear menacing to some, but the soft, creamy yellow fur belong to a particular person. Lifting his head, he looks up at Jeza, the female bunny-kin, his loyal servant and a lifelong companion. Purchased from a young age and raised alongside him when he was still a young boy, she'd helped teach him ancient Hitrosii, the language of the beast folk, and has been a constant companion ever since.
“[Are] you okay?” She asks in her gentlest tone.
Before he can answer, footsteps on the stone tiles ring from behind him. He turns and peers over his shoulder, toward the archway. His father approaches, an anxious look on his face. His four loyal bodyguards flank him, but quickly leave when their king asks for a moment of privacy. He approaches and takes a seat in a chair across from his son, who has yet to say a word. He opens his mouth to speak but pauses. They know why he struggles. No one saw this coming, least of all Morlys. She seemed like such a nice girl. Well-bred and intelligent, he saw that she was attracted to him, so when the letter came one month before he and Nasia were to be married, a letter making such salacious accusations, everyone, including Morlys, doubted it's validity.
Thankfully, his father is a cautious man. He did not amass wealth and grow their city-state to such grandeur by taking unnecessary risks. He saw Morlys' face when he read the letter, at first aloud and then silently. It was addressed to the prince, and bore the seal of a wealthy merchant family whom they had heard of. Strangely, no one had signed it. It was a very matter-of-fact statement about princess Nasia and a supposed stable of six Korutan of the pony-kin whom she reportedly engaged in all manner of sexual debauchery with. The letter spared him no details, warning him that she enjoyed taking the endowments of her ponies into every orifice, sometimes for hours, and would not hesitate to indulge her vices should she be cut off from her current stable; she would consort with beast folk slaves behind his back.
It was a difficult thing to hand over the letter to his father, but as he became increasingly insistent, Morlys felt himself retreating into his own mind and his body obeyed as if he was a small boy again. Stunned by the accusations, which he read aloud and angrily, Morlys' father quickly sent his most trusted dispatch riders to investigate. They would first copy the letter with the aid of a scribe and then take the copy to Nasia's father to demand answers. If they were being honest, an unsigned letter by a prominent family isn't nearly as credible as the word of the king, but the riders' story and the copied letter left Nasia's father shaken. Eager to prove it was little more than lies, he led his bodyguards and the riders down to the dungeon to find Nasia's slaves and “interrogate” them.
What they found in the bowels of the palace was truly shocking. The stables were empty, and inside the very last dungeon cell was Nasia. She was accompanied by two of her friends, the twin daughters of a nobleman. The young women were not alone, and were surrounded by all six of Nasia's pony-kin slaves. The women were sprawled atop the strange bench that Nasia had made as a form of “tribal decoration,” each of them being used by two ponies in the dungeon that had been secretly converted into a chamber of debauchery. A cauldron in the corner brewed a large quantity of the contraceptive tea of neberrum. It's pungent odor is familiar to all. As soon as the king, his guards and the riders barged in, two of the ponies climaxed while deep inside of the loins of one noblewoman and Nasia herself.
It was undeniable proof, and the riders swiftly left before they could be stopped. They feared that such a sordid account would cost them their lives, and it likely would have. What would've stopped the king from capturing them, torturing and killing them to hide Nasia's filthy secret? Nothing. Thankfully, they regained their senses before Nasia's father and his bodyguards, and bid a hasty retreat to their horses. The swift, four-legged beasts carried them throughout the night. They returned at dawn as eyewitnesses, giving a full report to their stunned and furious king, and his melancholy son. It was a most detailed account, and their tale left many women of the court flushing.
Unfortunately for Morlys, he had occasion to visit Nasia at her palace. During these visits, they were becoming closer. She would never allow the visits to last longer than two days, proclaiming by the second afternoon that she was fearful she would not be able to keep her virtue if he stayed any longer. She was so flirtatious and so eager that it was both flattering and perplexing that she would send him away, but part of the mysterious letter stated that Nasia had made claims to not being able to go more than two days without enjoying the sexual pleasure of her ponies. He had visited her three times, and each time she made him leave before the end of the second day.
Hearing the riders' words, he knew in his heart that the letter was true, that she sent him away so that she could have sex with her beast men slaves without guilt or shame. It was beyond humiliating, especially given the bond he thought he felt forming between them. However, it only became worse when his own father turned to him and said something he had not expected.
“Well... She didn't technically do anything illegal.”
Was he implying that Morlys, his own son, should still marry her?! Nasia is a princess and the inheritance of a second city-state could create a whole new kingdom for their children, but wealth and power have a price. How much is his dignity and self-respect worth? Is it more or less than what his father believes it to be? That thought alone was enough to drive him out of the court and into the study, the same room where he'd spent that first night talking to Nasia. All he wanted to do was think. Soon, he heard the soft footfalls of Vostii footpads and claws. He turned back to see Jeza chasing after him. She had been in the court, and though she was initially raised with beast folk and can never learn human speech, the overseer whispered the letter's contents to her in her own tongue. When the riders returned, the overseer translated their account as well; Jeza knows everything.
Instantly ashamed by her gaze, he turned away from her. Though he hadn't yet married Nasia, the fact of the matter is that he was about to, and had no idea the kind of woman she truly was, nor did he suspect the kind of pain she would inevitably cause him. A part of him was relieved to know the truth, but another part of him was in agony. He yearned for the bliss of ignorance because the shame of the truth was almost too much to bear. It left him pondering truly dark thoughts. What kind of a king would he be if he had no idea who his own queen truly was? What would others think of him if rumors about her sexual proclivities with slaves, and especially beast folk slaves, became commonplace? Furthermore, what would he think of himself if he couldn't stop it? … Did he even deserve to rule?
It was all too much, and Morlys rested his head in his hands as he fought back the tears of self-pity and shame. Jeza was quick to comfort him, as she often is. She has always been a kind soul; gentle, tender, and loving. They grew up together, and he cannot fathom life without her. However, his father soon found him, and now that he sits in the chair across from him, Morlys can only imagine what he's about to say. The only thing keeping him together is the warmth of Jeza's palm and the little squeeze of her clawed fingers as she keeps her hand on his shoulder.
“I'm sorry, son...” His father finally begins, gathering his thoughts. “I didn't mean for that to sound so...”
“Careless? Insensitive?”
“Careless, I suppose... … This is your decision, son, but remember that this has considerable weight. If you choose to ignore her... Indiscretions...” His father murmurs, holding back his own level of disgust. “Then both city-states will be yours once I and her father have left this mortal coil.”
“Is that the price of my dignity?” Morlys chokes out, turning his attention to the sea beyond the balcony. “Should I just ignore her treatment of me, both in front of me and away from me? Should I forget that she sent me away three times only to indulge her carnal desires with her slaves in a dank dungeon, when she was making plans to marry me only hours earlier? Is that what you're telling me?”
“This is your choice, son. Some might say you should see past it and claim a larger, grander throne... After all, Nasia may like to spread her legs for ponies, but as king you can have any number of slaves of your own. There's nothing stopping you from having a dozen consorts of every breed and body type. They will line up for you because of who you are. If you ask for larger breasts, they will come to you with smiles on their faces.”
“And what about the sanctity of marriage? Is that just a facade? Some ritual that we partake in for the sake of the law? Is it merely a ceremony that justifies the transfer of wealth and the melding of two families, or is there supposed to be some underlying passion? Should I not truly love the woman I marry?”
His father softly chuckles, giving him his answer before he even speaks.
“It's a rare thing to find... Love... You're young and, I assume, not very experienced with women?”
Morlys shakes his head.
“I didn't think so. I have always given you a certain degree of privacy, and I often wondered if those walks you used to take didn't lead you to a brothel.” His father teases him.
“No, they didn't. They took me to the beach, where I would sit and watch the ships and ponder life.”
“I should've known. You have a gentle soul, like your mother... I was looking for love once, back when I still had all my hair...” His father begins, running a hand over his balding head. “I never did find it, and I'm a king. If anyone should find love, it should be a king... … I once saw a poor couple living in squalor and begging for coins and food at the edge of the west gate. I watched them from the balcony of the first palace, before I constructed this one and sold it. I watched them and they clung to each other, sharing in their misery... And yet they never lost hope, never lost their affection for one another...”
Morlys looks to his father and can see his eyes becoming glossy with tears. It's a side of him he's never seen before.
“I was so overcome by the sight of them that I sent a rider to bequeath them a small sack full of gold zakians in the night. I watched him drop it in their bucket as they slept beneath a ragged cloth. They heard the noise and woke up and... And tried to give it back to him.” His father pauses as a single tear runs down his cheek. “ The rider refused, as I had commanded him too, and rode off into the night before circling around to inform me of his success. I changed their lives overnight. I watched them use that money to start a shop and raise a family, and they never lost that hope, that affection for one another. The family I am speaking of fashioned my robes. They're the tailors. Have I ever told you that story?”
A stunned Morlys can only slowly shake his head.
“Hmm. You may be the first, then... I never did tell them that it was me who gave them the gold that saved them from poverty. Sometimes I like to collect my garments personally, just so I can see how they're doing... … I believe they found what I never did, and oftentimes I envy them... If that's what you're waiting for, son, then I wish you the best of luck, but I would remind you that many of these marriages, including mine to your mother, were entirely political. I would also like to remind you that this is what Nasia was likely taught her entire life, as many noble children are. I doubt few nobles truly care for love... But this is your life, and you may live it how you wish. I didn't intend to pressure you into marrying Nasia, but should you choose to... Well, we have a whole wing to accommodate your harem!”
Morlys is at once amused and offended by how his father can share such a heartwarming story only to end it with a lascivious quip. Leaning over and patting him on the shoulder, his father leaves the room without uttering another word. Morlys returns his gaze to the ocean and watches the sunlight glinting off the rolling waves. A part of him wants to run, to escape the choice altogether, but he knows he cannot. The best he can do is take a long walk. He rises from his chair and approaches the balcony, and Jeza is quick to follow him. She stands just behind him, holding onto his shoulder. Her grip tightens, causing him to look back at her. Her expression is telling. She clings to him not for comfort but for his safety, perhaps believing him upset enough to throw himself over the edge.
He turns to her and rests his hand on hers, causing her to bow her head and look at his feet. He caresses her hand, and her cheeks puff up a little as she fights back a smile.
“I [am] okay. I [am] not that upset.”
“Oh...”
“Jeza?”
“Yes, master?!” She raises her head and looks into his eyes.
“... Walk with me.”
Leading her out of the study, Jeza looks around as they move throughout the castle. Each time they pass a door or a hall, she seems to expect them to enter it. They make their way past the court and toward the large foyer, where he has to wave the guards away to keep them from following. His father sees this from the court and rises from his throne, where an advisor had been whispering in his ear, possibly giving advice on how to deal with the Nasia situation.
“Where are you going, son?!”
“For a walk!” He chirps.
“A prince shouldn't walk undefended...”
“I have Jeza with me.”
After a brief pause, his father looks to the guards and motions to his belt before waving his hand toward Jeza. It's a startling command, and the guard hesitates as he thinks he may have misunderstood it. However, he takes off his dagger and presents it to the Vostii slave, with the king's blessing. Jeza bows her head to the guard, her silent gesture to honor his property and return it quickly. With the beast woman armed with a blade, the king allows the prince to leave the castle otherwise unguarded, and the pair make their way through the town. Being a long-standing and loyal servant, Jeza already bears an amulet of trust on her collar, which permits her to wander alone, however, she's never willingly left Morlys' side. This is the first time she has ever truly taken in the sights.
Morlys cannot help but admire Jeza's excitement and curiosity, finding a quaint charm in her manner. He has always trusted her, now he must guide her. He takes her hand into his and gives it a squeeze. It's as if her entire world stopped. She turns to him so fast that an ear flops over the other before perking up. It makes him laugh. She blushes as she looks down at their fused hands, and takes a rather dainty step towards him.
“Come. I want to show you this.” He speaks very politely and formally, as he always does.
Jeza and the prince make their way through town, and many recognize him. Thankfully, Morlys is a well-known and respected young nobleman, whose genteel nature has won him a small troop of supporters. They're eager to see how he will rule the city, and actively keep the more nefarious persons away; his safety is all but guaranteed. In his case, it's better to be loved than feared. Reaching the beach, he shows her to a large boulder near the wall, which encloses their city-state and keeps the untamed beast folk and the barbarians at bay.
“What [is] this place?” She asks, turning to him.
“I would come here when I was [a] boy. My mother found it. When father bought you and you began to follow me to every place, I stopped coming here often.” He turns to her and smiles, reaching out to move some of her long, flowing hair over a shoulder. “I [did] not want any bad thing to happen to you.”
Jeza feels her heart flutter as their eyes meet. This time, she cannot hide her grin.
“There was much time since my last visit. I [am] glad it remains [the same].”
“It [is] very beautiful.” She coos.
“I hoped you would enjoy this place.” He replies, sitting in the sand with his back against the boulder.
“I enjoy [my] time with you.” She replies.
Jeza squats and pulls against her dress, which has long cuts at both sides so that shin-length rectangles of fabric hang in front of and behind her. A cut-out at the back frees her tail. She pulls so that her dress conforms to her body and sits atop the sand, keeping it from her fur as she also leans against the boulder. Her arm is nearly touching Morlys', and she turns her head to look at him, watching to see what he'll do. He stares at the horizon, watching the waves for a time. That little smile he often wears isn't there and his eyes reveal a weariness that leaves her concerned. Hoping to comfort him, she leans gently toward him and brushes her furry arm against his flesh, tickling him and gaining his attention. He looks to her and smiles, then lifts his arm to drape it over her.
“[Does the] wind bother you?” He asks.
“Hmm?” It takes her a moment before she even realizes that there is any wind at all, but seeing an opportunity, she cannot help but lie just a little bit. “Mm-hm.” She nods, leaning into him even more.
Morlys doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her and hold her. In that moment the humble bunny-kin servant has never felt more timid and also more empowered. With hardly a word she has commanded the prince to act, now she can enjoy the warmth of his masculine embrace. She closes her eyes and rests her head against his chest, a tall and perky ear resting against his cheek. Her clawed hand rests on his belly and gives him a soft scratch as she coils her fingers, gleefully clinging to him. He leans over and rests his lips on the crown of her head and very subtly nuzzles her with his thin and pointy human nose. After a tense moment of waiting, she feels something. Did he give her head a kiss?!
He rests his cheek against her head and looks toward the horizon. With his nose near the base of one of her ears, she listens to the soothing sound of his breathing. It's more comforting to her than the waves or the squawking of the gulls. An hour passes and the sun sinks closer towards the horizon, making the sky turn pretty colors. She rarely paid attention to it, the pink glow and amber waves. To be honest, she often had Morlys on her mind. Being able to sit here and watch the sunset with her prince, the man she has been so loyal to for so long; it's a dream come true. Could it get any better? As the wind picks up, she feels it ruffling her fluffy fur and blowing strands of her long hair, but Morlys, who wears a sleeveless tunic, begins to shiver.
“[Are] you cold?!” She lifts her head and turns to him.
“I [am] okay.”
“We must return!” She begins to rise from the sand. “You [are] cold, and [the] palace [is] very warm!”
“I [am] okay!” He laughs, a bit startled by her ferocity.
“Come, master!” She insists, standing tall and holding out a hand to him. “We must return!”
He sits there for a moment, looking up at the dainty and rather buxom bunny-kin slave, who smiles so warmly as she looks down at him with her hand outstretched. Reaching out and taking her by the hand, she pulls him up with surprising strength. He always knew that the beast folk were rather strong by comparison to humans, though he's never experienced it before. Certain races of beast folk are much stronger than others, but even the smaller and meeker breeds, such as the mice, bunnies, deer, sheep and goats, and even many felines and canines, can put up a good fight against a human. Standing to his feet, he now looks down at the young bunny-kin who clutches so firmly to his hand. He feels her give it a squeeze.
“Come, master! We must return home!” She chirps, turning and leading him back to the palace with a spring in her step. “We must return before you catch [an] illness!”
“I [am] okay! Truly!” He chuckles, trying to keep up with her as she pulls him along.
It isn't long before they return to the palace, right around the time dusk settles over the city. As soon as they enter, Jeza turns to the guard and returns his blade, then looks to her master with keen eyes. Her fluffy little tail, shaped like a candle flame, dances happily as her little buck-toothed grin warms him even more than the fires inside the palace. They take a few steps into the palace, leaving the foyer and crossing the court when suddenly a voice calls out from near the kitchen.
“Jeza!” The overseer calls out to her.
“Yes?” She turns to the older woman.
“Come. I need help with this.” She motions to the young bunny-kin servant.
“Oh...” She turns and takes one step toward her but hesitates.
“Come!” The overseer calls to her again.
“Wait... I want Jeza to remain with me.” Morlys suddenly commands, speaking in Jeza's language as the overseer had.
“Oh! … Okay.” The overseer replies. “Then I shall find another... Good night, my lord.” She bows her head to the prince.
“Good night.” He bows his head back.
“Master?!” Jeza turns to him, as surprised as she is confused.
“Please...” He takes her hand into his. “Stay with me. I [am] enjoying your company. It... It makes me feel better.” He speaks softly, as though worried others might hear him.
Jeza has never seen him like this before. Morlys looks so vulnerable, so eager for her comfort! His emerald eyes look through her, staring into her soul; he's calling out to her. She can only nod before giving his hands a squeeze, and following him through the palace and upstairs. Unsure of where else they can have the same level of comfort and privacy, he rather begrudgingly leads her to his bedchamber. Jeza is almost afraid to enter, but not because she doesn't trust him. He turns to her and gently pulls at her hands, raising her arms. He then a few steps closer so that his chest bumps her breasts. He rests his head against hers and asks her to follow.
“I need someone. I need you.”
“Master...” She coos, unable to stop herself from nuzzling his chin with her snout. “I [am] yours. I [will] stay with you.”
Stepping inside, Morlys closes the door so that they may finally have privacy. Jeza looks around his room, unsure of what he wants from her. As one of the most trusted slaves in the whole palace, and Morlys' personal servant for the past several years, she has a bedchamber very close to his. However, she hasn't spent much time in his room, and certainly not alone with him! In fact, the last time she can recall being in his room was to care for him when he was ill, several seasons ago. It's the first thing she can think of to talk about.
“Remember when you became sick? I was very worried...” She remarks, sitting at the edge of his bed and looking at his pillows. “I prayed to [The] One for you. I begged Yeshu to save you.”
She can feel the mattress sink down as Morlys sits beside her. He places his hand on the small of her back before it slithers around and comes to rest on her hip opposite from him. She turns to him and sees the pain in his eyes. It nearly takes her breath away. He stares into her sapphire eyes as if he were admiring the very heavens above.
“I remember. You were very good to me. You [were] always very good to me...” He speaks with a quiver in his voice.
“I-I care for you, master.” She trembles, shifting her slender legs and inching closer to him.
“You [are] always here. You [are] always care for me. There [is] none I trust more.”
“None, master?!” She almost gasps.
“I [do] not even trust my father [like] how I trust you.”
Jeza is shocked beyond words. She has no idea what to say or how to react. She takes a finger and nervously spins a lock of her wavy, wheat-colored hair around it. This is the first time she's been truly afraid since her first few days of living in the palace, when she was brought there as a little girl.
“Jeza... [Am] I [a] good man?”
She can hardly believe the question! Why would he ever ask such a silly question?! Looking into his eyes, she can see them becoming glossy with tears. She acts without thought, moving on a combination of instinct and the learned behaviors from nearly a lifetime among the humans. Touching his face and caressing his cheek, she coos softly in an attempt to soothe him. She leans in and rests a hand and her head on his chest, her other hand reaching around to press against his back.
“You [are the] very best of men, Morlys. There [is] no one better.” She assures him.
She oozes confidence, and why wouldn't she? As far as she's concerned, there truly isn't another man like her Morlys. She goes on to extol his virtues, regaling him of his own deeds which she had witnessed, deeds that prove he is a kind, compassionate and loving soul, but it's what he says next that leaves her aghast and makes the anger boil within her.
“Thank you, Jeza... But I [can]not help feeling foolish. How will [the] others perceive me when I [can]not see my future wife betray me? We [were] not very close, but I feel guilt and shame for not seeing it, and for being misled. I [am] not fit to become chieftain...” He hangs his head in shame.
“Master!” Jeza growls, her anger over his mistreatment washing over her. “Nasia [is] cruel, and [a] liar! She betrayed you! You [can]not claim blame for her lies! Why [do] you feel foolish?! For being [a] man!? You [are] only guilty of trusting her. There [is] no one [as] wise or with [a] big heart [like you]! There [is] no better chieftain than you!”
Hearing her words, he lifts his head. He was not heartbroken by Nasia's debauchery nearly as much as he was embarrassed and humiliated by not seeing it sooner. The self-doubt crushes him like an anvil, dragging him down to the deepest depths of the great sea. This Vostii, this slave, a humble bunny-kin who has followed him for many years and grown up alongside him, she is the only one to show such sympathy and compassion. Only she showed such fire in defending him, as not even his father would validate him. In his eyes, that all but spelled out to Morlys that he was not fit to rule, and the fact that he felt he needed someone to prove otherwise only made him feel worse.
It's a strange wash of emotions that he hasn't felt before, and Morlys begins to tremble. He isn't even sure how to react, and he certainly has no idea what to say to her. He rests a hand on her head and gently pulls so that she once again lays her head on his chest. They sit there, embracing as his mind wanders. He thinks back to the brief discussion he had with his father. His story about the tailors returns to his mind. That's what marriage should be about; trust and love and compassion, even if the face of the worst hardships. Why must he marry someone just because their families want more power? Why must he put his member inside of a woman who has already taken in a half dozen pony-kin? To have an heir?!
Thankfully, his father gave him the choice, and though he's certain his father wants him to make a particular decision, Morlys now realizes that it's one he could never live with. He clings to Jeza and feels a warmth he wasn't expecting, and it's not the warmth radiating from her flesh and soft fur. He has always noticed Jeza, not just because she grew into a beautiful and voluptuous creature; she has always been there and always cared for him, just as he has cared for her. He remembers when she came down with a fever. He sat at her bedside and read her stories, even as the overseer and other servants offered to care for her. With his lips buried in her hair, he inhales her scent and closes his eyes.
“I [will] not marry Nasia...” He suddenly begins.
“Master?!” Jeza pulls away to look up at him, her heart skipping a beat.
“I want to marry someone I trust. I want to marry someone I love. I want someone who [will] stay with me, even if I become poor and sickly.”
“[Do] y-you think you [will] find that female?” Jeza asks in a shaky voice, peering into his eyes.
“I believe I already found her.”
“... Truly?!” She feels her heart sinking.
“Yes.”
With that, Morlys tilts his head, leans in and gives Jeza a kiss! Her eyes grow wide as she realizes who he was talking about. Her eyelids droop and her brow softens as she loses herself in the moment. It's only the second time they have ever kissed. The first time, they were young children and were “playing.” The memory comes flashing back to her. They were acting out a childish fantasy where Morlys was the king and Jeza was his queen. She called him her mate, turned to him and gave little Morlys a playful peck on the lips. She wanted to feel it, but it left his face redder than a cherry. It was so adorable, and she giggled for many hours thinking about that moment. As they grew older and their relationship changed, she became his servant and never again believed that they would ever be here.
Unwilling to deny herself any longer, the bunny-kin wraps both arms around the human whom she has desired for so long. She tilts her head the opposite way and opens her mouth a little, just to see what will happen. Feeling her breath in his mouth, Morlys kisses her deeply; his tongue eagerly explores her mouth, and the pair get their first taste of each other. It's good, and it makes them want more. Morlys' hands caress her sides, rubbing up and down again and again. Suddenly, her dress opens and begins to slide off. Was that intentional, or did he accidentally unravel the bow knots that held it together? It doesn't matter, because Jeza's hands quickly lift off his sleeveless tunic before caressing his flesh.
Her breath shakes as they both sit topless, gazing upon the other for the first time since they were children and he had accidentally walked in on her bathing. Now she has breasts, plump and full. He touches them so softly before kneading them, and a thumb caresses her nipple. Jeza is eager for more and resumes their kisses. As their tongues wrestle for dominance, she grabs him by the belt and pulls. They begin inching their way up and onto the bed. Soon, the back of her head plops atop his pillows, right as Moryls' pants fall to his ankles. She looks at him and gasps, covering her mouth with a hand as her eyes grow wide. He's much bigger than she remembers! Granted, she hasn't seen his manhood since she had caught him relieving himself behind a tree in the garden, when they were still children.
Her mind flashes to some of the other male slaves she'd seen naked. It was nothing so lascivious, as she had only witnessed a few of them changing after a day working the garden and vineyard. Several of them were pony-kin, undoubtedly the kind of slaves that Nasia would bend over for; Morlys' member is nearly a match for theirs, if not identical in size. He looms over her, on his forearms and knees which rest between her legs and keep her spread. She begins to tremble all over again.
“Oh...” She gulps and looks nervously into his eyes. “M-master?”
“What? [Are] you okay?!” He asks, becoming concerned.
“You [are]... Big.”
“Oh.” He blushes and chuckles.
“Please... Treat me gently.” She whimpers.
“Jeza? I [am] your first lover?”
“You [are] my only lover.” She coos, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.
His smile returns and they share a kiss, a long and passionate kiss that ensnares their hearts as well as their lips.
“You [are] also my only lover.” He assures her, the moment the kiss ends.
Jeza's heart soars. She had followed him very closely throughout the years, but she was never certain that he had not enjoyed the company of other females when he would leave to walk about the city. To know that he will claim her virginity and that she will also take his is more than an honor; this has made her entire life worth living.
“I [will] move slow, for both of us.” He promises.
Jeza clings to him as they kiss and touch each other, and basks in the splendor of her lover's caress. Though neither of them has any real experience, their bodies seem to know exactly what they want and how to attain it. Though his hands are a little clumsy, his touch never harms or offends her, and Jeza is equally uncertain when she reaches down to grab his member and stroke it, before guiding him down to where it belongs. They pause for a moment as they feel his bulbous tip pressing against her loins, and cannot help but look down at the sight between their bodies. He moves slowly, spreading her womanhood open like a blooming flower. Her breathing hastens. His tip enters her and she feels the sudden sting and the pressure of his phallus, the first she's ever felt as it slips inside of her.
She gasps and nearly shrieks, but only a groan escapes her lips. He looks her in the eyes, also panting from the sensation. If she had any doubts about his inexperience, they've been erased. Morlys nuzzles her snout with his nose and then asks her if she's okay. The fact that he would even think to ask her, that he cares so much for how she feels, it tugs at her heartstrings and makes her burn for him even more. She nods, tells him it's alright and then begs him for more. He doesn't disappoint. Before long, Morlys is driving himself deeper and deeper, and Jeza can feel his two stones resting upon her behind, pressing against the underside of her little tail.
Their bodies act on instinct now, and they soon find a strange rhythm. It's clumsy and uncertain at first, but as the pain gives way to the greatest pleasure that Jeza has ever known, it awakens something inside of her. She moves with a purpose, gyrating her hips as Morlys thrusts into and out of her again and again. Each time he ends the thrust by holding it firm, keeping the whole of his manhood sheathed within her loins so that she may feel it throbbing, filling her body. This moment is far more than mere sex; they have not only taken each other's virginity but claimed the empty space in their hearts. As she gasps and moans through her first orgasm, Jeza is certain that there will never be a replacement for Morlys.
Feeling the bunny-kin enduring a second climax, Morlys can no longer hold out. He sheathes himself within her and releases, clinging tightly to her damp and musky fur as a torrential flow even he could not imagine floods her womanhood. It amplifies their pleasure and seals their fate, but that's exactly how they want it. They look to each other, sweaty and panting, and trade a few more kisses. As their lips part ways, they can only think of one thing to say about all of this.
“I love you, Morlys. M-Master!” She quickly corrects herself.
“And I love you, Jeza. I [have] always wanted you, [and] now I [will] keep you.”
“Mmm!” She coos, clinging tightly to him.
They remain fused for some time, holding each other as their bodies relax. Jeza feels him shrinking inside of her and something about it is very bonding, even more so than mating. When they're finally finished, Morlys removes himself and lays beside her in bed. It's only then that they notice the stains on the bed sheets, a mixture of her virginal blood and his semen. He wraps his arms around her like a snake and cuddles with her. Now that he's finished and had his pleasure, he still wants to hold her. It makes her heart beat a little faster. She scratches his forearms very softly, looking past her plump breasts at his arms and her lower body, which has finally known the touch of a man. Still, something is nagging at her.
“Master?”
“Please, Jeza... Say 'Morlys.'” He replies, his eyes closed and face resting near her shoulder. “I [do] want to be your master.”
“Morlys?”
“Yes, Jeza?”
“What happens now?”
He opens his eyes and lifts his head.
“What [do] you mean?”
“You say you [will] not marry Nasia... But what happens now?” She asks again.
“Now I marry someone I love. I [will] marry someone I wish to have [a] family with... I [will] marry you, Jeza.”
Hearing him say the words makes her as giddy as it does uneasy. She manages to control her almost overwhelming joy to ask him a serious question. She is a slave, and he a king. Furthermore, she is a Vostii of the bunny-kin and he is a human. She may not have a mind like his, but she understands how the world works.
“[Do] you truly mean that?” She asks.
“There [is] only one person whom I trust and love. Only one person who has always been there for me, and [the] only person I feel [a] need to protect... It [is] you, Jeza.”
“But mas-! But Morlys, I [am a] slave, and [a] Vostii!”
“I love you, and I want to marry you. [Do] you wish to marry me?”
“Yes, but... [Is] that legal?!” She chokes out, her eyes overflowing with tears of joy.
“I [am the] young chieftain, and one day I [will] become [the] chieftain. If it [is] not legal, it will become legal.” He says with a smile, leaning in and giving her a tender kiss on the lips.
“Oh, Morlys! I love you, also! You always have my heart!”
“And you have mine.”
The couple lay in bed, completely forgetting about his seed which sits in the depths of her loins. They hold each other and succumb to their exhaustion, sleeping soundly in each other's arms. They awaken the next morning so overcome with last night's passion that they cannot resist indulging for a second time, unaware that an heir to Morlys' throne is already forming within her, growing in her womb. It could have been Nasia, but now it is Jeza, and the humble bunny-kin is thankful that the man she loves so dearly has finally claimed her. He wastes no time in telling his father of his decision. He will not marry Nasia.
“Very well. I cannot say that I blame you. The whore can keep her ponies, and we can find you another more suitable bride.” His father begin.
“No, father. That won't be necessary.”
“I beg your pardon?” His father raises an eyebrow. “You must take a wife to be your queen! How else will you make an heir?!”
“I will take a wife...” Morlys begins.
The prince then reveals something that none in the court were expecting. It isn't just that he has chosen to not marry Nasia; Morlys isn't interested in any other noblewomen, nor having a harem, as his father suggested. He has found that which his father has not. He has found love with Jeza, true love, and he will not surrender it for anything. There is no amount of wealth or power that would make him abandon her, and should she suddenly pass away before him, he would be too stricken with grief to ever find another bride.
“What?!” His father and several attendants of the court gasp.
“I believe you heard me, father.”
“... And you're certain that's what you want?!” His stunned father asks.
“I suppose I'm old-fashioned. I only want a wife and a queen who loves me, and I only want one. I need no others.”
“Very well. There are no laws against it, save for the harsh looks of your people...”
“A small price to pay!” Morlys casually retorts, a big grin on his face.
“You're sincere!”
“I have never been more sincere, father. You said it's my life to live... This is who I want to share it with.” He replies, his arm around the bunny-kin slave.
Realizing that his son is telling the truth and that he isn't just enamored with his very first lover, his father smirks and then nods.
“I'm glad, son...” He finally speaks. “If anyone should find happiness, it should be a prince.”