FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Here's the link to the google docs version if anyone prefers to read that way. I recommend this way, as there were some problems with the formatting and I don't have the time to correct them now.

The rattling of the lock shook Settimo out of his dreamlike stupor. With the terrible screech, the iron bar door opened, letting three people into his cell. With ease he recognized the stomps of armored guards. Though he couldn't see them through his blindfold, he remained unruffled. What good would it do if he started tossing in his bindings? Those iron shackles were nowhere near giving in even if he was thrice as strong as he was.

"Look at this cat stuuud, boys," a female voice spoke to him. That caused his rounded ears to rise. What the heck?! He thought dumbfounded. Her steps must have vanished in all that clatter the soldiers made while entering. The thing was, the lad knew that voice very well...

"Laura?! B-but... how? Why?!" He mumbled, still not believing.

They have been romancing for almost half a year! It started with bold flirtations coming from her in secret messages. At first he thought someone mistaken the recipients, given their families mutual history reaching a couple hundred years prior. A relationship full of rivalry and violence. As the letters kept coming though, he decided to answer at least. Off course it wasn't long before their first secret rendezvous, first shared kiss... it was just like fairytale. Two kids from hostile families - Scordatto's and Mecchi's. She - the eye catching, gorgeous and proud wolfess, and he - fearless and adventure loving, handsome, randy young lion. He even hoped they could end that ongoing conflict between their houses. Even despite her overprotective older brother. And the lad HAD reasons to hate Settimo.

"Surprised, aren't you?" Asked the wolfess.

"Can't say I'm not..." he growled back in return. "So what is this... entire circus about? Is this some scheme to capture me and threaten my family or what?"

"See? You even spare me the work with explaining... at least as much as I'm willing to," she said clearly pleased. "But yes, it was my plot the entire time, so you're right. Up to a point... and I must say as shrewd as you are, you will do great in your new life..."

"Which i-is?" The lion tried to keep the dread from his voice. With a partial success.

"As I've said, I'm only revealing so much. But if it's any consolation to you, you were an enjoyable company."

The young Mecchi only growled in his shackles.

"Now bath him," she ordered at once. "And take the blindfold off."

The dim light of candles come into his sight, and soon the dark stony cell's contours became more clear. Laura Scordatto looked dashing as ever in this commanding stance carried herself with. Three accompanying guards were two wolves and one dog. The dog, a stout bull terrier wasn't armored after all and he immediately set off to his task.

Timo's wrist shackled in front of him had been attached with a long chain to the holder in the stony wall. The dog pulled the chain forcing him to stand straight, his hands high above his head, and move towards the centre of the cell, onto the square bar screen covering the drainage in the floor.

Then the bull dog ripped his dirty shirt off, revealing his shapely chest. The creamy-golden ruff on his breast was a bit matted, as he didn't get the privilege of the proper grooming since his capture.

"Now time for the big show, boy," chuckled the dog. "Can't keep the lady waiting!"

And down went his pants. Settimo had the urge to kick the dog, but he suppressed it and just fixed his look with Laura's own, as he was handled in an especially rough manner and buckets with cold water. Only when the dog reached for his sheath and pulled it all the way down to treat his dormant member with the same cold water and rough rag, did the lion lower his eyes, wincing from the discomfort and wondering how low would this go.

"Don't get coy with me now, lion," teased him the wolfess, "when you've fallen asleep from the wine, I've taken a good look at your boy for my own enjoyment. Very nice for a feline kin, I admit."

The lion bit his tongue and remained silent, though he didn't manage to keep his ears from flattening.

"Cute," she chuckled while the dog seemingly having finished, backed off of him a step. "Ah, ah! Under his tail too," she commanded. "Outside. And inside."

This time even his tail went down between his legs.

---

* * *

After the humiliating bath he felt a little roughed up, but otherwise clean and fresh. They dressed him in some too tight white pants consisting only of three thin bands. One went around his waist, and two, crossing his buttocks, formed a small triangle on the front, where his groin was covered, or rather outlined by barely big enough scrap of linen. He didn't even want to think how peculiar he must have been looking.

The guards led him out of the dungeons to the courtyard of the Scordatto's castle. Then they turned around and entered some small gate leading to some back parlour. Laura was already there awaiting them. Behind her stood a crowbar cage capable of containing a grown-up man. The lion didn't need to wonder who was going inside.

"What are you going to do to with me?" he shot at her nervously.

"I? Oh, I'm just a mere deliverer," she answered with that irritating smug smile on her pretty muzzle. "I hope you like parties." She closed the distance between them and cupped his balls through his linen remnants of pants. "I got you a special invitation."

When she stepped back, the guards pushed him inside the cage and shackled his wrists to the thick metal bar behind his back. Next, his legs had been forced astride to made his feetpaws fit into the leg-irons on both sides of the said bar.

"What the hell is your game?" Drawled the lion, looking at Laura with anger. "I'm on display like some animal."

The female only smiled mischievously in answer.

"Is that it then? Degrade me in front of some of your family's ass-kissers?"

Keeping her smile, she only nodded to the bull terrier guard who immediately produced a streak of white cloth and after a while of struggling, gagged him with it, tying it at the back of his head. Settimo could only snarl in disapproval. Not for long though. The big cat's threatening call quickly turned into painful whine when the guard grabbed his balls and squeezed them in his massive fist.

"Shut it, cub!" He growled. The bastard was quickly enjoying mistreating him!

"Easy there, Rearden. Wouldn't want him broken in any way."

"Off course, my lady. The lad is tough, though. Only needs a proper discipline."

"And he shall get it, right?" She said sweetly, rubbing through his adolescent mane. At his age it wasn't fully grown yet, resembling rather a short mohawk going from his forehead to shoulder-blades and a subtle ruff on his toned chest.

He didn't react to the gesture, too caught up in the confusion at how much it didn't fit this situation. She used to do that a lot during their night rendezvouses. It always got him going, but the wolfess never went further than kissing and occasional gropings. That also drove him crazy with lust for her and at the same time made more determined than ever. No girl, no woman ever resisted 'Timo Macchi. And then, the time it seemed she was going to let him finally have her, the only thing he got to sate his thirst was spiked wine... her caresses didn't arouse any feelings in him anymore, other than hate and contempt.

The wolfess toyed with him some more, rubbing his shoulders and chest till she finally let him be.

"You be a good boy and don't made a single peep from now on," she ordered threateningly, directing her steps to the main lounge of the castle. "Otherwise I will have you tied to the whipping post on the courtyard and your balls treated with a riding crop."

That's some farewell line, he thought bitterly. He didn't intend on trying her.

When she left, he was left alone with the three guards for about an hour. They've made an occasional jokes of him, but beside that nothing was happening. The lion on his part managed to register that his current quarter was embedded on a set of small wheels. It didn't really surprise him, given the hints that he was to attend a party later. For him having the guards carrying his cage would be too much of an honor.

Finally when he started feeling bored and stiffened, there was a light knocking on the door, and some weasel appeared. Apparently she was some sort of a servant, maybe even Laura's attendant. She exchanged a few words with one of the wolves and left.

Soon after his uniformed companions closed his cage and covered it with a big canvas, creating a false sense of safety. But he knew better than that. In fact, the lion instantly felt himself getting nervous. Having at least partially figured out what was awaiting him, didn't really let him to steel himself for that. The wheels screeched, the cage rattled and he was dragged out to the parlour.

Off course he couldn't see a thing through the thick fabric, but his rounded ears twitched upon the cheery uproar coming from somewhere in front of him. It sounded somewhat dimmed. Obviously the party Laura mentioned was taking place in the neighbouring chamber, probably a banquet hall.

Suddenly he could hear trumpet signaling everyone to settle down, followed by the voice of the ceremony master. Settimo couldn't make out the exact words, but he presumed that his arrival had just been announced. And he wasn't mistaken. Large wooden gates creaked open, and he swayed on his straddled legs, as the cage was forcefully pulled to the great hall, surely full of well dressed people, who were just about to see him practically naked and completely vulnerable. He swallowed audibly and stood straight, aware that whatever he was about to go through, was inevitable.

It seemed like forever as the cage rattled forward on the marble floor of the hall. Settimo could hear the curious whispers escorting him up to the very stop.

"Oh, and what is it, my beloved sister, that you're giving me in that... is it a cage? Is it some pet?" Another familiar voice sounded in the chamber. Off course... Artemo. The lion realised with distaste. This must have been what Laura was up to the entire time... the wolfess' little, innocent giggle made his stomach turn.

"I think you will like it much more than another exotic pet, Artemo!" she almost sang with joy. Tricky cunt!

"That's an excitement I rarely get to hear in Laura's voice!" The wolf's voice was a little louder now. Settimo was sure about that. "Everyone then, what do you say? Should your host leave unpacking the gifts for later, in the privacy of his own chamber?" There was a smile in those words. "Or should I, perhaps, as a good host, get to it now for all of you to see, what's hiding under that canvas?"

Those two propositions were off course followed, to the lion's greatest dismay, by the guest's clamour of disappointment with the former option and enthusiastic calls for the latter.

"Very well then! Rearden?"

"Yes, my lordship?"

"Do the honors!" Exclaimed courtly Artemo. The bastard had a way to carry himself, that the lion had to admit. He always did, were they lifelong rivals, or not.

"With pleasure!" Answered the bull terrier and with a swift motion the canvas keeping him hidden before everyone's eyes was no longer his luxury. Settimo did the only thing he could think off. He bored his eyes into the wall that came to his sight. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a richly spread, long table, guests were sitting at it, off course. Many guests. But he was determined to keep his eyes fixed on that wall, to not look at any of those people, certainly not at the one, who in that very moment sprung on his legs. The lion missed quite an expression.

Young Artemo stood there, in front of the host seat with an absolutely astonished smile plastered across his muzzle, his hands pinned to his temples in disbelief. Many woooh's and oooh's were coming from different people at the tables, too.

"HAH!" The wolf finally exclaimed in a childlike manner. "Hahahah!" The clawed fingers slid down through the grey fur on his cheeks. "Is... Is that really him?!"

"Happy birthday, little brother," said the wolfess, kissing his cheek and cherishing the honest happiness emanating from the male wolf. He caught her into a big embrace and then almost rushed to the cage.

"I must say, my dear 'Timo... I can hardly contain myself right now." The wolf said as he approached him.

I see that. Thought the lion bitterly. Artemo Scordatto was definitely too happy to see him. And the big feline wasn't sure the alcohol was entirely to blame. Thing weren't looking very good for him.

"What's the matter, my feline friend?" Asked the wolf, coming into his line of sight and standing on his tiptoes. "You're usually much more talkative the times we happen to run into each other."

The lion could almost feel drops of sweat rolling down his forehead in his effort to not look into the wolf's eyes. But why exactly? He didn't even have to come up with anything to say. He had been gagged anyway. And it most probably would have been better to not annoy his captors.

"Oh, come on, Mecchi, look at me! Am I not nice enough for you thus far? I didn't even ask if the cat got your tongue. I promise that no entertainment that's coming your way will be cliche. Oh no... Not. One. Bit." Declared the wolf in a nasty voice. That finally draw the lion's eyes to meet the canine ones. He didn't like the predatory smile on Artemo's muzzle. It was a vengeful grin, with fangs, and history behind it. The history the two of them shared and knew very well.

"Not so hard, after all, right?" Smiled the wolf and cocked his head. "But joking aside," his tone suddenly much more serious. He look into the lion's eyes and said "Now I'm going to open the cage and remove your gag. You, on the other hand, are going to be a good boy and behave yourself, alright? There are people here who know both me and you very well. Don't want to be rude to them, right? RIGHT?"

Only when Settimo nodded begrudgingly, did the obtrusive wolf make true to his words. As the cloth left his mouth, he instantly felt his throat dry. It was probably at the morning when he got his last drink, and the cloth in his muzzle have been soaking in all of his saliva.

"So how are you, my dear friend? Is the cage comfortable? Aren't manacles to tight?"

"I-It's fine. If a bit cold here..."

"Oh. Right! I bet you're thirsty as well. Servant!" Called Artemo. "Bring us some wine for a warm-up. That special one, you understand?"

The servant was back in no time.

"I will even make you the honor and be your personal cupbearer," the wolf declared generously, taking one of the beautiful goblets of the table and pouring the wine on his own, indeed. "Servants! Disassemble that cage, I want everyone to see and be jealous of my birthday gift!"

The tipsy crowds answered with chuckles and even some shy cheering. So much for the manners and showing off, Settimo reflected, disgusted. True that most of them were friends of house Scordatto, but all in all, his own family ran businesses and maintained relations with those people as well. The strife between Mecchi's and Scordatto's was never more than a private affair from the entire political stage's of the Duchy point of view. But apparently, he was about to learn a new lesson about the world he belonged to. Depraved aristocrats would take their joy at anyone's expense, no matter, friend or foe. As the cage's sides and roof vanished, leaving him on display to everyone in nothing, but this poor takeoff of an underwear. He felt his muzzle was getting unpleasantly hot.

"Alright then. Now, when we are ready, I'm asking all of you, my honorable guests to stand, as you can see, my gift already is standing, will be standing even more in a minute..." he pointed at the lion, but he paid no attention to it, as there was more chuckling around, "And lift them... Here's... to you, Laura, my sweet sister," Artemo smiled to her "may your gifts always be of a quality like the one, you honored me with tonight!"

Cheers, polite nods and words of appreciation roared through the chamber and everyone, including Artemo drank up from their goblets and cups. But the wolf sipped only but a toothful and then ordered the troubadours to fill the chamber with music. As the feast came back to its vibrant rhythm and buzz, the wolf approached Settimo once more.

"We are going to share, my feline friend. I hope you don't mind me being too... intimate, hah!"

"I c-could use a drink." Admitted the lion. He was far past caring that it was his hated rival helping him out. He was already pretty thirsty and for the time being he was doomed to the wolf's mercy anyway. Pride wouldn't be his best advisor in his current situation. The wine wasn't poisoned either, he could see the wolf actually drinking a bit of it, so he wasn't worried for his life for now. So he kept swallowing mouthful after a mouthful of a pretty good, red liquor. It had a strong, slightly herbal touch to it.

"Veeery good," murmured the wolf. "I have to admit I'm actually surprised you are cooperating so well. First I've been worried you will revolt... Perhaps it's just the basic needs of the body, or maybe you're not such a douche. That remains to be seen."

The lion took the whole goblet at one gulp and panted, as Artemo took it away.

"And... what good it would do to m-me now?"

"No more than it managed to do in the past."

"How so? Did I mistreated you somehow."

The wolf snorted. "DID YOU NOT?" He asked, somewhat annoyed.

"Really?!" Asked the lion, sincerely astounded. "Is it my fault I had you beaten in every single tournament?! Is it my fault I graduated from the Military Academy with better results? Is it my fault I'm better at representing my house interests at the court..."

"NO," the wolf interrupted, seeing the lion's arguments drove some attention to them. "No. That's is entirely my fault."

"What?!"

"You've heard me."

"Then what's the problem? Why do we even fight in the first place? And what am I doing here?!"

"Behave yourself," Warned him Artemo with seriousness in his voice. "If my sister has some ulterior motives, I don't know about that. But as I know her, she thinks the same as I do. And speaking about you, my gift..." the wolf made a pause, looking him in the eyes.

Only then Settimo realised how close he was standing. He could literally headbutt him. If he didn't know any better, that is. That was a very strange look, though. Unsettling. It was probably the first time Artemo Scordatto managed to inspire fear in the young lion and he wasn't even making effort this time.

"You are here for your punishment," declared the wolf. Settimo suddenly felt hot inside. And it wasn't the good kind of hot. It was the terrifying and ill-like kind of hot. "And there's no one better than I to inflict it. The wolf lad around your age, who has always been losing with you. I never minded though, would you believe?"

"I'm offered as a gift to you by your sneaky sister... and you are actually threatening me with tortures because of our past. Well, I hope you don't mind," drawled Settimo sarcastically, "but yeah, I have a little bit of a hard time believing it." The hotness was starting to get really annoying. Maybe there was something in that wine after all?

"You got that wrong, my friend. A little bit of a hard time is what you are GOING TO have YET. And as for my reasons, let's leave it like that for now. You are clearly oblivious to your mistakes, ergo, you are free to believe what you want for now..."

"How generous..."

"...but there are some things you are not free to. And that goes for those last scraps of decency you still have."

"Wh... what?" Asked the lion, puzzled. "What do you mean?" He added, as the wolf produced a small dagger.

"Why, I mean those off course," Artemo smiled vilely, hooking his claws behind the waistband of the lion's skimpy, white briefs.

"No, come on, man..." pleaded Settimo, his tail curling between his legs out of pure reflex. "Am I not humiliated enough like that?"

"The question I've been asking myself many times after our encounters, Settimo," retorted the wolf, cutting through the waistband over his left leg. Then he reached to the right one. "It's strangely satisfying you're asking it just now," he said, as he finished the job on that side as well. The lion huffed, his stomach twisting. "Ready?" inquired Settimo, fixing his eyes with his own.

"Man, please, I... I can't believe i-it..."

"Now, now," cooed the wolf, "be a good boy. Tail down. Come on, tail down."

Settimo was too shocked to even register how patronizing the wolf got with him. He huffed, hot all over his body. He didn't knew if shame was big enough of a word for what he have been feeling right at that moment. And then, he felt the wolf's hand between his legs and looked down there, where that hand grasped his tail, and then forced it down enough for the briefs to fall down to the floor. The cool air on his prominent sheath and balls, creeping into the narrow path of longer fur going from his navel to the top of his sheath, in connection with the very public character of the place he was in, made his head spin for a moment. It just couldn't be happening! He was finished in the public life, compromised before so many important heads!

"You're gorgeous," mumbled Artemo with honest admiration on his face. And that was about as much as he managed to say, before the scene draw the attention of guests that were present. Most of them were females, but apparently some of the males also took a fancy to his stripped body. A considerable crowd gathered around him, commenting on his physique. At first they were coy, praising his shapes and muscles, but soon some drunken cat lady made a bold statement:

"And I keep telling my Brennan that having a small dick isn't a feline thing!" Her sincerity of course stirred the avalanche.

"Look at those balls!"; "I would lick them till they shone!" They've been almost shouting. "Can they really go at it for two days in a row?!" Not much time has passed, before both females and males started to flirt with him, telling him what wouldn't they do with him, for him and so on. The lion struggled to not listen. Ignoring them was a deliberate effort. He knew that the moment he reacted, he was lost, so he didn't even look at them, letting his head sink he fought to avoid any eye contact. The ring of people around made him feel even more hot, but he didn't even notice, as the last inhibitions had fallen down, and they actually started touching him. Settimo huffed and jerked his head up only to meet Artemo's eyes. The naked lion froze like that, his hateful glance reserved entirely for the wolf.

At the same time clawed fingers began sliding through the short fur on his shoulders and pectorals. Some patted him, some stroked with their entire palms. Soon he could feel hands on his buttocks, and circling around his waist from behind, wandering over his belly, lower and lower searching for his sheath. He wanted to scream, to free himself from his bindings and tear those people apart, no matter were it young maidens or old matrons! Just as someone brushed the tip of his sheath though, Artemo clapped his hands and politely, but firmly, asked everyone to step back.

"Alright, alright!" He smiled then. "I hoped everyone get their share, because from now on you can only watch. No more touching!" As he said that whines of complaints echoed through the chamber and made him and some others chuckle. "Yes, yes, I know it's hard to resist, but I'm not THAT generous as a host!"

As another wave of laughter burst in the hall, Settimo realized that despite that he now had more free space and air around him, the hot in his body made him pant. Little droplets of sweat sprinkled his golden fur. He got especially warm around his groin.

"H-hhh... h-hot," He gasped, as he started to feel a little dizzy. Surely it couldn't have been the wine? He was far better drinker than that! Unless...

"B-bastard... bastard!" He half growled, half panted.

"What was that?" Queried the wolf.

"What's in the wine? What did y-you give me?!" Settimo noticed his breath became quicker and more shallow. "You poisoned me, you...!"

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Artemo raised a finger. "Do not say anything you would regret. And... no, it wasn't a poison. Quite the opposite."

"What does... what does it even mean?"

The wolf's muzzle only curved in a mischievous grin and he looked down pointedly. Timo followed his gaze out of reflex, glancing at his heated sheath. It looked a bit swollen and the sight only confirmed the concern gnawing at his thoughts from the first moment he had felt the strange feeling.

"Really?!" he almost whimpered. "F-fuck, really?!" The lion's heart, already beating pretty fast, now seemed to be trying to tear itself from his chest.

"But why so upset? It's all good friends here!" Artemo called out jovially while sweeping his hand to show the lion the group that had become very friendly with him just moments before. All of them bursted with laugh and other loud sounds of confirmation. No one paid any attention to his frustrated growl.

"Or maybe it's a stage fright?" Pressed the wolf. "Strange... really. I don't recall you being intimidated in tournaments. Or publicly humiliating your opponents during those... worry not, though, my friend. You are just about to get supporting stars in the show."

Then, deaf on the lion's questions, he turned away from him, and spoke loudly to everyone. Settimo got his answers soon enough. With more servants who instantaneously rushed to move the tables back, into the chamber entered a troupe of eastern musicians. Most of them felines. Settimo scowled at them, when some stopped in their tracks, looking at him startled.

"Everything's alright, come here, master." Artemo called one of them, a gray fox. The others started setting up their drums. Their apparels and instruments had a tribal touch to them, but the lion hardly paid any attention. He couldn't sweep his eyes across the chamber without his head spinning. It was as if the scents suddenly became much intense and the hotness filling his body felt unnatural. The worst of it was the narcotic excitement the wine unleashed in his loins. He knew that warm tingling encompassing his groin and belly very well. But this time there was something different to it. It was so intense... at this point he was panting constantly, lewd thoughts nibbling at his soberness. That carnal power crept behind the walls of his consciousness and was arousing his body. It worked him up slowly, not enough to make him hard, oh no... in a way it was much worse. He could feel himself swollen and leaking inside his sheath. He was somewhat relieved for the bindings on his hands, because otherwise he would probably reach for his lionhood right where he was standing. Instead of complete disgrace then, he got helplessness against unfulfilled lust teasing his young, virile body.

"Timo?"

With effort he raised his glazed eyes to look at Artemo. The bastard was smiling.

"Enjoying the drinks?" He asked.

"W-what is this sh-shit?"

"I said you shouldn't worry about it too much." Retorted the wolf, somewhat impatient. "You might've noticed the herbal aroma? Just get used to it... and for now," the wolf closed the distance between them and put his hand on the lion's lower abdomen. So close to his sheath. The lion felt pathetic for wishing him to touch him lower. "Enjoy yourself, my lion friend. I think this performance will be to your likings." Saying that the wolf actually let his hand slid down to his sheath. One of his claws sunk into the opening in the golden fur, making Settimo huff plaintively. The wolf raised his eyebrows, as he took his fingers back and there was a small dribble of wetness in the air, connecting the claw and the sheath. Artemo licked it slowly and smiled lasciviously. Just how many ways of smiling has he?

"Appetizer," he whispered and walked away, leaving the lion sagging frustratingly in his bindings. It was just one claw that barely made it inside his sheath... yet the tease have been powerful enough to upset him. Whatever was in that wine, Settimo was frightened at the thought of what it could drive him to do.

Trying to steer his attention from the urges going through his body, he raised his head to try and take a look at whatever they had in store for him. Around him incenses had been lit, and soon his bound, naked form was folded in purple, olent fumes. He couldn't quite see what was happening just a couple of meters further, but then, he didn't really need to. Soon the turmoil in the chamber subsided and have been replaced by a slow, rhythmic thumbs of drums. After that, three slender silhouettes emerged from the fumes. Before he could contain himself, Settimo jerked in his restraints, a carnal smell flowing through his nostrils. Black pantheress. In heat. It was more of a subliminal observation, than an actual thought. It made the muscles in his groin spasm all the same. Motherfuckers...

Each of the three wore silver jewelry, a skimpy loincloth and a bodice of the same color. With the croon of flutes, three black spectres began to circle around him, their steps lithe and confident. Each time the one that stood in front of him, casted him a glance. A haughty, defiant glance. Possessive one. It was like they've been showing him that he was now... their property. And for the entire speechless rage that roused in him, it also stirred something else in him. At first it was but a pure bodily feeling, the need to break those damned restraints and take those females as his! He barely paid any attention to the sudden spark of mirth in the crowd, to which he had been exposed naked and displayed as some pet. But then claws raked through the fur on his abdomen, tickling him roughly. With a huff-producing spasm of his stomach his eyes went down. Only partially successfully he choked back his whimper. There it was. He couldn't fight his lust anymore. With a gush of clear, viscous fluid, his horny lionhood protruded from his sheath. That's it. I'm utterly disgraced! He thought with despair.

From his urethra precum was slowly streaming down his barbed, pointy shaft, wetting the fur on his sheath, balls and even his inner thighs. Soon more black, clawed hands appeared to tease his body, stroking his athletic frame. From biceps and pectorals they went, through his stomach, to smack his buttocks and even tease under his tail. His leaking manhood was hard and swollen in no time. And in full display to everyone in the chamber. And did they stare.

He could see them whispering, one to another, giggling and enjoying the show to the fullest. His ears couldn't drop any lower and he would gladly tuck his tail between his legs if it wasn't for the constant shifts of female's fingers teasing his tailhole underneath it. Was it some other kind of situation, he would probably be screaming with rage. Instead he was just huffing and panting, standing there, his bound form trembling with forcefully induced lust. He knew it wasn't him reacting this way in such a humiliating position. He would never be able to produce such an excessive amounts of precum in the first place. It was forming a puddle between his legs by now! But those herbs... and females... the pheromones made him think of nothing, besides rutting them like an animal.

And the panthers were only getting more and more bold handling him. Soon there weren't only fingers and hands touching him. As the rhythm of the music gained on speed, it started... stimulating him. Strong beats of drums and startling hum of flutes were making his heart throb faster. Like they've been anticipating something. He didn't know what to make of it. He felt like something was about to emerge from the purple vapors and leap on him, or... or... then he realized. It was the sex itself! The primitive, randy tune led those black, hot sirens to tempt him, stir the masculinity in him to his very core, and then... worship him?

Settimo trembled with lust, his body straining, hot and bothered, as all three of them clung to him tightly. Their lean, yet muscular bodies were speaking pure desire, but also domination. The poor young lion whimpered, long past caring about appearances.

The damned aristocratic bastards, his very peers, forced him to play a horny, savage animal for their own enjoyment. He knew he had been drugged, they knew that very well, yet it made no difference. It didn't make him, bare naked, with his desperately horny lion dick throbbing between his legs, standing before their very eyes, feel any less humiliated. So why would he care? Let them feast upon those sight, may they choke on it.

But letting go brought no relief. If anything, it was just another level of torture, as pantheress' bodies were grinding against his. He didn't even know on which one he should look. Or should he look them in the eyes at all? And why the hell was he even asking himself such questions?! He was a lady killer! Or rather, he had been, as he was about to see.

There was something off in this whole act, he noticed. The females' caresses were lustful, but rough. They weren't worshipping him, oh no. It was all a game for them. He could see it in their insolent smiles. And they were handling him as they wanted. Every hand groping his buttock, every claw prickling the fur on his belly. So close to his throbbing cathood, standing at full attention for them. For them and all those who were watching. For Artemo in the first place. Settimo would feel sick, if it wasn't for the overwhelming arousal. And then the two dancers glued to his sides took his torment even to the higher degree. Pair of rough, sandpapery tongues began lapping at his neck and collar. He could feel the jolts in his spine, as he shivered and threw his head back as much from sheer pleasure as in an embarrassing attempt to expose himself more, counting for them to continue their work. As he felt strong jaws closing on his throat, sharp teeth prickling his skin, he felt like he was losing his mind. It wasn't right! He should fight them, he should be wearing himself to exhaustion trying to break his restraints! And instead... the only reason for breaking free that was constantly haunting his thoughts was to reach for his cock and jerk himself off right there, where he stood. Or even better, grab one of those goddamned pantheress and rut her like there was no tomorrow, audience or not. His need was so great, he could only smell their exciting scents, and his own musk, sweet and strong. Oh, what he would give only to touch himself.

"HNNNGH!" He cried out, as the dancer bit his right nipple. Before he realised, the other was being taken care off. Laps of harsh tongues and nips of sharp fangs replaced the ones on his throat. "OHHHNGHH!" Settimo whimpered again, as he looked down, where he met the sight, that made his cock flex hard, shooting another strand of the thick precum. Before he could sate his eyes though, strong hand grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward until his muzzle sunk into the warm confines of the two, black-furred, gorgeous breasts.

"Pleasure me, boy!" The dancer ordered seductively, and he would have choked, so quick he was to obey. Just to have something for him in this torturous ordeal. He lapped at her tits like a thirsty dog, wetting the silky fur with his saliva. His ears dropped at the sound of mockery and invectives that flew his way at that, but his throbbing, leaking length was far from dropping. As he was going at it with the treat that have been graciously offered to him, the other dancers didn't cease their work on his nipples. Not only that! They have actually started to lick his entire chest and abdomen, letting their hands roam down, caressing his belly and inner thighs. Never touching his cock or balls, though. His entire body was tingling with pleasure, his lionhood aching for attention, as he lapped and lapped, and rubbed his muzzle on her breasts frantically. He was willing to try everything, just to win her over. And indeed, the gorgeous feline was moaning with pleasure.

The pantheress had grasped his head and began stroking his adolescent mane, panting and whispering what a good boy he was being. At some point, it was even more degrading than his forced public stripping and arousal. It didn't help either, that she was at least by ten years older than him. Experienced and strong. Such women, while making his maleness go crazy, also intimidated him. He never felt confident around them. He felt like... like a boy. Just like now. He obeyed whatever she ordered. Wherever she guided his muzzle and tongue, he lapped greedily, panting from the exhaustion and overbearing arousal.

The spasms in his loins made his hard cock throb under his belly all the time he was taking in her heated scent mixed with exotic oils she had treated her fur with. He relished her firm, black nipples, salivating all over them, his head spinning with the lack of air. And with such desperate efforts he was hoping to let her understand. To slip through his plea for attention. He hated how it pained his male pride, it was so embarrassing and yet... his desperate lionhood and all the muscles in his loins spasmed achingly at the mere thought of such degradation.

"MMMNNGHHHH!" He muffled, looking up at her pleadingly and the female finally released him. Settimo almost choked from the sudden gulp of air, and took some time to recover.

"What was it, my handsome lad? Are you tired yet?" Susurrated the dancer.

"I-I... I..."

"Yes? Tell me, you horny stud! What is it?"

"P-pleaaase! Please..." Whimpered the lion with the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Touch me."

"Oh, but we are touching you!" countered the female with cruel smile on her face. "Are you saying the affection my sisters are treating you with is not good enough for you, lad?"

"P-please!" He could only beg, understanding her words already too much of a challenge. "Touch me!"

"Oh, you won't have it that easy," she said and leaned forward to lick his round ear. Then she whispered: "You have to tell us where you want to be touched."

Settimo looked at her pleadingly. But there was no pity on that pretty face. She was going to make him say it. And he was going to break. His cock throbbed, when he realized it. What the fuck is happening with me?! He couldn't believe it... he was going through with it.

"T-touch me..."

"Yes?"

"Th... there..." He growled painfully. He couldn't! The words stuck in his throat, no matter how hard that traitorous part of his body ached between his legs. But there was no easy way for him indeed. The pantheress only chuckled and then leaned forward once more.

"You have to say it like this..." And she told him.

No. No. He heard his own horrified voice in his head. He was frightened, but not because of the words... but because he was going to say them.

The drums rumbled in his head as he did. She made him repeat. And after that with a sharp gesture she silenced all the music and announced:

"The prisoner has a request! He wants you all to hear it!"

The silence that followed the dancer's words was unbearable. Settimo could feel everyone's eyes upon him. Those expectant stares weighed on him almost in a physical way.

YOU FUCKING BITCH! He roared inside, looking at her with honest hate. No way he was going to say it out loud! No way...

But she answered him with a smile that made his initial resolve falter. He was at their mercy and had to remember about that. So the lad shifted his eyes and swept them around the room. He could see the silhouettes of guests sitting around the make-shift stage with him in the center. It seemed the chairs have been set up to form some sort of stands, like in a theatre. The lion spotted Artemo and his sister sitting in the best places, pretty close to the scene of his anguish.

"Don't be ashamed, my feline friend!" Called out the wolf. "I'm sure it will be quite entertaining for all of us to hear."

Settimo snarled under his breath and shot what he hoped to be a really black look in Artemo's direction. Then he fixed his eyes with the female's ones, gosh, why they had to be so gorgeous, and took a deep breath.

"P-please..." he stammered, dreading the reaction that was to come, "play... with m-my little friend."

His ears practically glued to his head when the chamber bursted with vicious cackle of tens of throats. Even the dancers and the musicians couldn't quite contain themselves. As for Settimo... he just wanted to sink into the ground.

All the derisive sneering lasted maybe for a couple of seconds, but for the lion those dragged on mercilessly.

"Awww, no need to demean yourself, my dear friend! You're a pretty big boy for a feline kin!" Shouted Artemo, causing another bursts of laughter. Those died out pretty soon, though.

"My lord, will you grant your gift the luxury he asked for?" Sang the dancer.

"Hahahah! That is out of the question." Answered Artemo with a casual smile on his muzzle. "But why won't he play with your friend? What do you think? Are you willing to do that publicly?"

"My lord... we are professionals!" Declared the pantheress smiling proudly. Settimo's heart sunk at those words.

"Go on, then! You have my permission to use him for your own pleasure. But keep your hands away from his little friend!" Ordered Artemo, almost outshouted by cheers of the spectators. "He is MINE."

The poor lion didn't even get the time to imagine things he would do to Artemo for that. Barely the young Scordatto gave his order, Settimo found himself at level with the pantheress vulva. Her heated scent made him go mad almost instantly. It was only the beginning though. As she forced his muzzle against her swollen lips, he felt his tail being yanked up. Before he could even react in any way, two warm, sandpapery tongues attacked his taint and tailhole. He cried out of the sudden shock of pleasure, but the voice was muffled by the folds of the dancer's sex. And then the desperately horny lion gave in, rushing at her hot, juicy labia, almost slurping her moisture like water on the desert. With every following lick of his and every one of her heated pants and moans, he was suffering more and more, his leaking cock spasming under his belly to the point where his stomach hurt. He didn't know how many times she reached her climax. Nor did he know how many times he had to serve her friends the same way, as all three of them have been taking turns on both ends of his.

That was the way he got to spent the rest of the party. His tongue and jaw hurt, yet he couldn't stop himself, couldn't bring himself to simply disobey and refuse playing along. He knew it was that wine combined with the females' heat, yet his shame was overwhelming him. And if that wasn't enough, there were the confusing sensations coming from his rear end. The rough tongue on his tailhole send shivers through his entire frame. It was all so confusing. He knew that men interested in other men played with those parts of the body. Settimo himself wasn't that much opposed to the idea, though he never shared that truth with anyone. He could have any woman he wanted, he didn't ever have to seek pleasure anywhere else. But now it was a female doing it to him! Along with the other, who were busy soaking his taint, he could actually feel his eyes watering! The torment went far past driving him insane with unsatisfied lust. It wasn't purely physical experience anymore. They have made a horny animal of him and he could feel his very spirit breaking under the blows of hammer of frustration. It was an awful, horrid awareness that he was getting lower and lower, to the point of considering begging Artemo to let him have his climax, no matter the price. He didn't know how long he was going to resist that.

After some time most of guest lost their interest and got back to eating, drinking and their own conversations. Not the Scordatto siblings, though. They have been watching to the very end, when Settimo was sure, he blacked out for a couple of seconds, because next thing he remembered was being carried to some small chamber. They've put him down, on some sort of a straw bed, that looked like a bigger dog kennel, placed in the very center of the room. Then he got chained by his legs and hands to the two opposite walls. He could even make himself pretty comfortable, manacled like that. However... touching himself any lower than his pecs was out of the question. Then, when he asked for drink, they've forced another bottle of that damned wine into him! The lion started to thrash around as soon as he saw what was about to come, but the guards pinned him down with no effort and did their job. The lion felt himself slipping out of his sheath with gushes of pre, getting hard over again after finally losing his erection along with consciousness back on the party. Artemo was there too, to see to his gift's proper treatment.

"Sleep well, my feline friend," the wolf smiled cruelly on leaving. "I have so much in store for you."

"NO! W-WAIT!" Settimo cried frantically, making the wolf turn around and approach him once more.

"What is it, 'Timo?" He smiled, crouching. "Not comfortable enough?"

"Please! P-Please, man!" He almost outright cried. "Don't leave me like this, I beg you!"

"Oh, do you want my hand now?" Asked the wolf cruelly, taking lion's wet, swollen cock and stroking it, oh so terribly slowly.

"Yes, yes! Please... I... I'll do anything!"

"You know what is so great about not letting you cum?" Asked the wolf, stroking Settimo's cock once more. "You'll do anything anyway. Now, or later."

"No, please! NO!" The lion screamed as the wolf got up to leave.

"And believe me, lion. One time would hardly bring you any relief by now." Assured the wolf going out.

"YOU FUCKING CUNT!"

And then the doors shut, leaving him in darkness.

---

To be continued...

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© 2016 Martin Farley ALL RIGHTS RESERVED