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The Play Games: Part One

The grand stadium of Jahaliya stood completed and unnamed, not even having master architect Sawchuck's signature on the cornerstone.

It was ready, however, and Jahaliya's first bi-annual, inaugural Play Games was about to begin.

The competitors rushed up and down the stadium's many playing fields, getting in their last bits of training. They constituted of primed Jahaliyan athletes, of robust naked males enticingly hung and rigid of muscle, and of buxom, agile females generous in breast and smile.

Prince Ryoga's sensuous Harem interwove themselves with the regular athletes. While Lisa, the almost invulnerable svelte raccoon, was disqualified from competing, the rest took their kingdom's athletes to task.

Bowmistress Natasha stood among the archers, standing on her hands while firing the bow with her footpaws. "Oh come on!" complained a fox in a green tunic, his erection propping up the front of the skirt.

He slammed his bow into the ground when Natasha split his arrow in half.

Over in the wrestling ring, Tina the mighty skunk slammed her elbow into the mat above her five victims' heads, catapulting the five big cats--all different species--high into air Do yoand over the ropes.

They splatted as one big pile in the surrounding mud-pit.

"Now we're talking!" Tina lustily shouted, backflipping off the top turnbuckle to belly-flop "frog splash" the whole group.

High in the topmost viewing box, far from the action, her translucent purple silk cape blowing in a Westerly wind as the sky turned gentle shades of gray like her fur, the noble wolf Queen Malva Miscon lifted her opera glasses to her calm, golden eyes.

"Yes, they should satisfy Cyndra's specifications," said the Queen as she observed the athleticism.

Off in the distance a warm, whispering rain began to fall on the skyward airship dock attached to the stadium. Queen Malva observed her son's Harem Matron Sylvia, her Amazon General Athena, and a select group of her son's Harem came to meet the incoming airship.

"Unfortunate weather for this reception." remarked the Queen.

"I doubt they will complain; their home has a rainforest climate" reassured Sylvia.

Down at the docks, a big band constituting of brass instruments and traditional Amazonian flutes and drums greeted the Myscindrian leader, the giant snow leopardess Governess Cyndra, who was flanked by a lusty, sensuous coterie of her own Amazon athletes.

Servants sporting smart cravats, maid aprons, and nothing else rushed up on either side of the gigantic snow cat to erect a moving canopy to shield her from the pattering rain.

Hardened in her calling's ruling complexities, magic lore and most delightful lesbianic orgies, Cyndra held back a smirk at the overly-genteel accommodation, but this was all due course for the classy and elegant kingdom that her Thrallship of Myscindrya served.

Lioness Sylvia strutted up to her in graceful, sensual fashion, her bountiful breasts propped up by an exquisite red harness and her decadent, muscular legs pronounced by gleaming thigh-high boots.

Cyndra smiled warmly; it had been two years since she and Sylvia had made voracious, lustily uniting love.

Cyndra waited, despite her every lusty and passionate instinct, for the shorter lioness to approach her. Sylvia assuredly caught the restraint in her face, and when she was in reach of her powerful snow leopard arms the Governess pulled her in tight, squishing their breasts together as both females purred in delight and caught scent of each other's sweet, feminine arousal.

"Salutations, Cyndra. I welcome you on behalf of all Jahaliya!"

"Greetings! This competition will be like everything my Amazons dreamed; you have outdone all but Goddess Herself!" Cyndra proclaimed, then whispered in the lioness's ear. "Pity that you've reverted to your normal biology--it could be said that your magic cock was the key to our union."

"Oh, I'd forgotten all about that tiny old thing," Sylvia responded with a shrug.

Cyndra separated herself from Sylvia, holding back a frown.

Sylvia, in realizing her irony had gone right over Cyndra's seven-foot-high head (or perhaps beneath her stomach-high vulva), took the snow leopardess' massive paws. "I tease! I merely prefer my femininity."

The Governess playfully growled. "You would do well not to play with a giantess's emotions and libido."

"Oh, Goddess Bless," Sylvia said with a blush. As the warm rain continued, matting the lioness's fur and sending rivulets through her buxom breasts and toned body, she looked absolutely splendid.

Out of the airship came Cyndra's own jungle servants hauling a royal sedan easily the size of one of Sylvia's old-world automobiles.

Administering a lick from the tip of Sylvia's nose, up the bridge of her muzzle, and ending in a kiss to her forehead, the lusty Amazonian Governess laid upon the grand sedan as her warriors took her weight and permitted herself to be carried toward the Play Games and the unnamed stadium.

Accompanied by the band, the procession made its way down the great gangway toward the epic building. Reaching the grounds, it attempted to veer right toward the stadium's gardens, where a roar of people awaited, waggling pennants of many nations as they shielded their heads from the rain with pamphlets, snack buckets, and whatnot.

Sylvia halted the procession. "No, no!" she chuckled, "Goddess is literally raining on our parade; let us hasten to the events before we are all washed out."

"You call this sprinkle rain?" Cyndra shouted as the warm precipitation intensified.

"If there were any alternatives, I haven't the foggiest!" Sylvia countered.

Cyndra ignored Sylvia's pun to stare at her body, the musculature of which was becoming more and more obvious as rain soaked her fur.

The Governess felt a familiar warm wetness between her legs, and it was not precipitation.

The parade burst into the stadium grounds ahead-of-time while the athletes were still practicing, and as such immediately brought the latter to a halt.

Servants joined the procession and danced to the band's music, breaking out into exhibitionist dance that stressed the straight lines and generous curves of their bodies. The Amazons took their cues and marched with confident stride, outstripping all the Jahaliyan public while Cyndra lounged in the center with genteel, queen-like waves of her paw.

Athletes on the field and audience members on the sidelines delighted in this sexy grandiosity, the females attempting to imitate the same expertise while the males grew uncontrollably hard and stroked themselves, moaning in pleasure at all these soaked Amazon beauties.

Cyndra felt a mighty buzz between her legs and soon joined the exhibition, spreading her long, thick legs to openly tease and prick her clitoris until she soaked the sedan further than the weather, then continued going as she fondled her breasts in alternation.

When they arrived at the palace viewing box, Cyndra was in an intoxicated tizzy, her fur soaked to the bone in fresh, hot rain while her nipples and clit buzzed with the luxurious female hunger of: more until I am full, and then three more!

The Royal Family of Jahaliya met them at the top of the entryway's carpeted purple stairs: Queen Malva and King Gohrig at the forefront with Prince Ryoga at their right hand, three Harem Sluts on either side, the Cetaen Ambassador walrus Shipsan Sealingwax, and finally an apprentice of Master Architect Sawchuck nervously standing in for the absent Sawchuck.

In the corner, a lowly custodian observed the scene and swept the floor with odd attentiveness.

Queen Malva lowered her opera glasses, the wolfess of grace having ogled Cyndra's full-bodied form down to every droplet of water and female ejaculate.

"Welcome to Jahaliya, your grace!" Queen Malva said with a magnificent lupine howl, "It is the apotheosis of my spirit that I finally meet the companion behind the pen: how are you, my friend?"

Ryoga's eyes widened as his mother descended the staircase and welcomed the Governess with the same majestic character she enjoyed from him.

Obvious where he got it from.

"Your Highness!" Cyndra boomed back, taking up the challenge of Malva's grandiloquence, "I must admit, it was a challenge at first to decipher your cryptogram!"

The wolfess cocked her head a quarter of an inch. "You mean my calligraphy?"

"Yes, that! We prefer a simpler style."

"Indeed," Malva murred, striding up to the taller female. "Your hieroglyphs are so... picturesque."

Without further ado, the Queen reached out and grasped Cyndra's massive breasts. So pleasured by the warm, intimate gesture, Cyndra grasped the Queen's, and the two shared this erotic embrace until every male in the room was hard and panting.

"Mmm, perhaps this should be the standard greeting after all," purred the snow leopard as the queen luxuriated in her mounds.

Cyndra's glance eventually wandered over the Queen's head to spot the King, who despite a throbbing large cock dripping pre-cum, was standing regally.

"I hate to be rude, your Grace," Cyndra whispered, "but I shouldn't ignore your honorable mate, the King!"

Malva slid her fingers on either side of Cyndra's nipples and squeezed, the sweet scent of her own arousal permeating the room. "It is fine: how you honor one of us, you honor the other."

The Queen broke off and cast a paw up the staircase. King Gohrig advanced a mere two steps, beckoning for Cyndra to approach.

Cyndra took every step, even though her stride could cover three, and approached the King.

The snow leopard began to kneel. "My old culture would balk at me getting on my knees for a man, but I thank Goddess that I have a beautiful reason to do so."

The King smiled. "Praise be to Her and what She makes possible."

With that, Cyndra got to her knees and offered her generous breasts to his erect cock.

King Gohrig murred deeply and placed his paws on her shoulders, then slid his member between her tits.

Cyndra squeezed her breasts around him as he thrust into the warm, plush embrace. Their audience, Prince Ryoga and Queen Malva included, cheered as the wolf King quickly picked up his pace, lustily and delightedly humping her breasts.

With every thrust, his prominent, tapered lupine cock head jabbed at her chin. Against her better judgment, Cyndra stole a few licks at the tip.

The King never let her, and pulled it out of the way every time.

The glorious titfuck continued, Gohrig thumping his hips against the bottom of her breasts, cock pumping at a feverish pace until he let out a howl and gushed, splattering her face with generous, flowing ropes of hot cum.

Their audience cheered and many climaxed onto the carpet and into their hands, male and female. Gohrig remained deep between her breasts for a few moments, then when he pulled out there were long strands connecting his groin to her spackled, messy bosom.

"Thank you, my Liege," Cyndra said, one of her eyes closed, strands hanging from her muzzle. "For this most bountiful anointment."

King Gohrig nodded in acknowledgement, then resumed his place at the top of the stairs. A few servants rushed in and cleaned his pearl-painted nethers as he savored the blessed afterglow.

A sprightly servant boy offered Cyndra's face the same amenity. "Not quite yet," she responded.

The architect's apprentice was the first to leave the room after the ceremonies had ceased. He tripped and dropped a blueprint in front of the sweeper by the door, and the two exchanged small words as he scrambled to recover the document and then leave.

"Come," Gohrig said, beckoning her again, "there is much yet to do."

Cyndra was brought to the front of the procession and followed the King to a public balcony above the palace box. The King halted the party, then bade Cyndra to go.

"You are our Guest of Honor!" he proclaimed, "And your adoring audience awaits!"

Cyndra inclined her head. "A spontaneous address! That is fine."

Her paw went up and wiped the King's wolfcum from her eye.

"You'll not do it alone, however. Son?" the King asked, gesturing to the handsome silver wolf alongside him.

"Two spontaneous addresses?" Prince Ryoga asked, raising his head in respect to his father. "That is grand; will we play off each other?"

His mother, ever perceptive, lowered her opera glasses toward his fully erect penis--the only one still hard so soon after Cyndra's exhibition.

"You'll play with each other," she murred, "As I'm sure you've been wanting to for quite some time. She misses your attentions dearly."

"Mother!" Ryoga protested, but there was no hiding the blush in his ears or the constant bobbing in front of his legs.

Cyndra, too, was smitten, blushing as her lower lips grew puffy and wet.

"Time for a different audience," they whispered to each other as they walked out onto the balcony. Ryoga extended his paw toward Cyndra who swatted it away with a giggle.

Outside, the crowd of the Play Games received the Governess of Myscindrya with roars and applause, athletes and spectators alike. The atmosphere buzzed with their ardor.

Prince Ryoga emerged from behind her, summoning another wave of cheers, then yielded the floor.

"Citizens of Jahaliya and its adjoining lands!" Cyndra cried out, her voice booming over the stadium grounds, "Our Kingdom has been a long time in coming to the relationship we share with you today."

A set of wolf paws snuck up from beneath her arms and clasped her breasts, which were still sticky and covered in cum. Cyndra paused in her speech for a second, letting a lusty moan roll through her, then continued as the paws lovingly kneaded their plumpness.

"At first, our General Athena came for knowledge. She found it, and saw so much more."

Ryoga was panting behind her, his cock glancing against the firm, round eaves of Cyndra's buttocks. The tip, drooling pre-cum, felt the heat radiating from the snow leopard's labia.

"Next, our warriors came for honor. They found it, and saw so much more."

Ryoga's boots pawed the ground. Cyndra turned her head while the audience babbled in agreement. "Frot me, you fool!" she hissed.

"I shan't do even that!" Ryoga shivered, remembering their lavish time on the fuck-cushions, eagerly pumping against each other's sweaty, hot bodies. "Kingdoms have been lost for less!"

Ryoga peered behind himself, where his mother, beautiful as ever, gazed at him with warm stoicism.

"Now, my friends and allies," Cyndra called to the crowd, "I come for lust and have found plenty! And I hope that I find a whole lot more!"

Playfully, Ryoga bounced her breasts in his paws, first alternating them, then both at the same time. Cyndra purred, loving the naughty feel of it, and pushed her rump back against Ryoga, where the wolf gasped as he edged himself away from a climax.

The stadium screamed and began chanting her name.

Cyn-Dra!

Cyn-Dra!

The Governess permitted this for a indulgent duration, then she thrust her mighty paws into the air.

Ryoga clutched her bouncing breasts to stop them.

"At one time this would have been an act of surrender to our conquerors, but no more!" she said, "Now it is loving play, just as you see here your loving Prince caress me, exciting me to wet readiness in order to honor the Goddess. Let the Play Games begin!"

Cyndra bounced before them to excite the crowd into a frenzy, letting Ryoga's paws wander, then without a moment's notice ripped herself from him and disappeared back inside.

Exposed to the crowd, Ryoga thrust his paws up and started his own cheer, exciting the crowd to chant Ja-ha-li-ya before returning himself.

Throbbing with arousal and ready to fuck the first welcoming hole--any gender--Ryoga snapped to attention when Queen Malva swept before him.

Malva stood shoulder-to-shoulder with King Gohrig and her paw was quite busy with his cock, stroking its stiff length as she coaxed it toward another orgasm.

Cyndra was far down the hallway, already onto her next engagement.

"Your control is impeccable, dear son," she said with a smile, her other paw demurely touching her crown, "like a proper heir."

"I must fuck that beauty," King Gohrig muttered as Cyndra disappeared with her Amazon guards.

"Believe me, she's a handful!" said Ryoga, proudly clapping his paws on his thighs.

Malva nuzzles her husband. "One best handled in our bed with you, my love."

***

Cyndra next met with Princesses Robin and Jasmine in the parlor. The wolf greeted her with a graceful bow with her shoulder cape, and the jackal with a slight curtsy.

"I had to make a special stop to congratulate you on the arrival of your litter!" the Amazon Governess said with a bow, "It is a most happy time. Perhaps I'll slate myself for the next fertility round."

"I'm very happy," Jasmine said evenly, but her head was turned away and her tone was flat.

Robin frowned at her wife.

Undeterred, Cyndra asked, "In fact, if Goddess has indeed redeemed me, then may I be so honored as to--"

"No," said Jasmine.

Robin glared, then looked at the Governess with a concerned frown.

Cyndra felt a pall come over her, but tried to be delicate. "I hope I do not offend, but if I may--"

"I don't want my baby boy to whet old appetites, murderer!" the jackal snarled.

"Jasmine," Robin said, stuck in the middle and holding a paw toward each of them, "I think that's just your hormones--"

"It isn't!"

"Please, a little diplomacy--"

"Irrelevant!" the jackal barked, springing to her feet. Both females shrunk away from her, fearing for their fingers and faces. "Myscindryia is only a vassal state, so it is in my basest graces that she even be allowed in here, in this stadium, in this ..." she took a breath.

Cyndra did not recoil, instead stood stock still with a deep grimace.

Jasmine returned it. "I will not apologize. Old habits die hard, and my nanny will ensure my sons do not. Your stain will not be erased."

Robin could not so much as apologize with her countenance, and instead said sheepishly, "Perhaps you should go."

***

"A vassal state, how dare they," Cyndra muttered to herself as she thundered down the hallway to her next engagement in the Illusion Cave.

"They said what?!" her guard asked.

"Shut up," the snow leopard commanded, taking a half-hearted swipe at the Amazon. "Rejected and castigated as I climb this endless mountain of redemption; what kind of harpy has that fool prince married?"

In her fury, Cyndra only half-noticed she had exploded into the anteroom of the magic quarter.

"'Fool Prince?'" the pantheress Lydra asked, levitating a spell book above her head.

Majordomo John sat nearby on a long padded bench with orange-colored crystals in his paw.

"Full price!" Cyndra corrected. "Of what I am spending on these games. Must spend grace to get grace from Goddess!"

"It's none of our business," John said, dropping the crystals back into a bag. "Shall we show you the Illusion Cave?"

Cyndra waved her paw. "I shall take any hospitality that Jahaliya would like to offer!"

I seem to be suddenly poor of it.

"Something bad has happened," Lydra whispered to John.

"Let's trust the Goddess," returned John, making his whisper audible to the Governess, "and go with Her flow."

Cyndra entered the Illusion Cave by way of an enormous staircase spanning a great void. Used to jungle cliffs and perilous rope bridges, the snow leopardess grew impatient with the solemn, slow way that John and Lydra descended, but she held her tongue.

She was in no mood for a leisurely pace.

Lydra ran her paw over a wall of reliquaries, then sizing up the giantess Cyndra, grasped a large crystal she could not wrap her fingers around. She set it in the center focus chamber and got to work stirring up sorceries.

John stayed by Cyndra, concerned with the Governess's dampened demeanor, carefully asked her, "Your mood has darkened since you entered Jahaliya. Usually this country encourages otherwise."

Cyndra rested the back of her paw upon the Majordomo mouse's muscular chest, looking down at his plump and pretty sheath with only a remote echo of lust. It was funny to recall that at one time, she had had this mouse chained to a scaffold and lashed with a fire whip until he came lava. "Your princess holds bitter resentment against my kingdom. Maybe justified, but I fear that Goddess' forgiveness comes slowly to her."

"Not really," John said, turning to face her directly, "she only cares for her children, and given a choice, I'm sure Goddess will side with her. Just remember she's absolved you, and Jasmine will come around in time."

"I'm sure you have the fortitude." Lydra said, then with a blast of her paw ignited the crystal, sending several beams of light to the walls of the cave.

Cyndra felt her back straighten as she stripped. Posing thus nude, the effect was immediate on both John and Lydra, striking them with a deep blush and a powerful arousal. "We Amazons have borne worse!" she cheered.

"Look at this, now," John said, then took a fiery orange crystal from his sack and flicked it into the center of the cave where it grew into a massive fire breathing dragon whose thick hanging cock was nearly the girth of its tail.

Lydra, in turn, conjured a castle that came up to the dragon's chest. Enraged by this little bastion of civilization, the terrible lizard reared up on its hind legs and swung its cock crashing through the parapets, sending fake little people screaming to their doom as gorgeous gothic architecture crumbled into dust.

"Goddess bless me," Cyndra laughed, "does black magic include dark humor?"

Her question floated into thin air, and as Cyndra looked around for John, she found an amiable, familiar expression upon the dragon's face.

John the dragon beckoned her over, but as soon as Cyndra was within his reach the dragon grabbed her by the nape of the neck and slammed her over the castle, bending her over and thrusting his hips up against her.

A tremulous, hot moment passed as stones ground under her and people screamed at the spectacle. With a triumphant roar, John plunged his dragon cock deep inside Cyndra's body.

Stones rained down and stained glass shattered as the dragon railed the snow leopard atop the tiny castle. Cyndra bit the opposite balcony and accidentally crushed several illusory people in her jaw.

As John plunged deep into her, spreading her nethers wide, his balls slapping against her thighs, he growling and huffing fire over her shoulder, Cyndra's spirits lifted with a new resolution.

I can be the bigger woman--especially right now-- and Goddess willing, who I am shall become apparent to her!

At the top of the Illusion Cave's vast, perilous staircase, light glinted off a pair of opera glasses.

***

With evening falling, the Myscindryan athletes followed their Jahaliyan escorts out of the yet-unnamed stadium to a prominent u-shaped structure beyond a good-sized spring pool and humbly acceptable gardens.

Corsi, Eleanor, and Lisa tagged along behind this coterie as the Amazons cooed in appreciation: they had expected to sleep in the tents they'd brought with them.

The rest of the Harem Sluts watched them leave, wishing to continue their fun competitive companionship, but the busy practice day had been plenty.

Once the Amazons closed in, they saw someone standing in the middle of the two prongs of the horseshoe-shaped building, right in front of an avant-garde dragon statue whose cock performed a loop in its flexible erection.

"Kestrel!" Corsi called out from the back, but Eleanor shushed her.

"Let the woman do her work!" the bowmistress hissed.

The amazon gang came up to a shapely chinchilla wearing nothing but a maid's apron that stopped below her breasts.

"Welcome to your humble abode!" the maid chittered with attractive white buck teeth, "I hope you find it a palace!"

The Amazons all chirped with amazement, looking over the long, permanent structure with a stunned awe. Even this "temporary" barracks had a much higher quality of construction than any of their jungle huts back home.

As the chinchilla had no eloquent speech planned, she excused them. The athletes dispersed in both directions, cheering and slapping each other as they flooded into their exquisite quarters.

The three Sluts came up to Kestrel with Lisa the newbie hovering in their periphery.

"Nicely appointed!" Corsi the otter chirped, bouncing on her footpaws. "But you know it's about three-til-nextday, right?" she asked, tapping her wrist.

The gesture was foreign to Kestrel, who cocked her head.

"Ah yeah, watches, oldworld," Corsi chuckled, rubbing the back of her head.

"Why are you still here, if you don't mind?" Eleanor asked, keeping her rabbit ears semi-flaccid as not to seem overbearing.

Kestrel sagged a little, grinning in fatigue. "It was a bear to arrange the proper accoutrements. To wit: floor mats for the showers to reduce slippage, drying racks for the uniforms--"

"Uniforms?" asked Corsi, pawing over her nude body.

"Harnesses get sweaty," winked Kestrel, "fresh linens, fresh towels, even robes for some warmth! Strictly translucent; I'm not a boor. Chamber pots, too, as while the showers were easy to wire up, indoor privies are another matter. The technology is still behind your oldworld, so Sawchuck says."

"You're on top of everything!" Corsi cheered, then giggled. "I mean, efficient."

Kestrel rolled her eyes, smiling. "What, you think I got promoted because I'm sleeping with the Majordomo?"

***

The Amazons took immediately to their accommodations, nuzzling the soft covers, smelling the clean towels, and beating each other senseless with the pillows until General Athena appeared in full ceremonial gear with her brush helmet under her arm.

"At ease, warriors," said the muscular rabbit, then spread her arms and legs as her athletes set upon her and unbuckled the several heavy plates from her body, not a flake touching the ground as her armor and cape was removed and hung on the wall in the same form as was demonstrated on her body.

Naked, the military genius flexed as she pulled her rabbit ears back in relaxation.

"Great job today, ladies. At ease. You're running these athletic games like boot camp. Going from cannibal savages to military elite? I could kiss you bitches. Remember, we are in a land full of males with big hard cocks waiting to fuck us silly at our permission, but their respect for us as warriors is just as precious."

Her comrades cheered and high-fived each other, but upon the first spark of consternation from the General, immediately shaped up and even made their bunks.

Athena chuckled. "I said 'at ease,' not 'thrash about like drunk lesbians.' Keep that in mind; I'm off to bed and I'd best not be disturbed. Tomorrow will be harder than today--like birthing quintuplets!--so any reaming you receive is your own fault."

Athena retired to a private room near the center of the u-structure. When the lock on her door clicked, the barracks went wild.

Some kept their composure, but others could not be so contained.

"Ugh, nothing is worse when a commander wants us to be collectively tough!" a busty ocelot said as she swung her pillow in an uppercut to an antelope's buttocks. "All us getting wet and sexy, with all those hard cocks getting thick and ready for us," the ocelot said as she blasted another one in the face, sending the warrior reeling as if from an iron-knuckled punch, "but we had to suck it up in that rain; at the end I didn't know if it was arousal or a rash!"

While the ocelot conducted her multi-woman melee, eventually wielding a pillow in each hand, many Amazons retired out of fear--and arousal--to their bunks where they stripped off their athletic harnesses, rope sandals, smart feathered caps, and masturbated themselves directly while moaning, "When's my prince gonna cum?" and "I need a male, a big hung one!" and "Dibs!"

The ocelot paused as clitoral stimulation exploded up and down the horseshoe hallway, then received a pillow right to the pussy for her hesitation.

Kestrel, Corsi, and Lisa could only stare in askance at this rowdiness.

"Whoa, they really take being 'at ease' seriously!" whispered the maid.

Athena emerged from her chambers, subdued fury on her face as she marched with a translucent robe to the center of the barracks commons, made herself a camomile tea, drank the boiling beverage in one gulp, then marched back toward bed.

One foolhardy Amazon, blind with pillow-fury, tried her luck with the strange rabbit, but found herself in a chokehold and then tossed into the rafters.

The room noise died as if shot through the head.

Athena stretched, yawned, then set her empty mug in one of seven pairs of awaiting paws. "My dear warriors," she said primly, fighting off a yawn, "if you're not going to show some maturity, I'm calling off tomorrow's entertainment. We all remember the brush battle against the Poacher Queen's burner forces, right? Covered in mud and ... other ... while fighting the jaw-clapping cockroach men?"

Everyone went to bed.

***

Sylvia daintily sipped on a fine porcelain teacup, white with blue flowers etched in the side, as she led the other Sluts along with Lydra to a large field shaded by colossal trees scores of stories high with lines of hedges obscuring the view of the entire field.

The Amazons followed along behind them, some of them still yawning and getting their harnesses into place. Out in the main courtyard, they saw two statues, male and female, intertwined in a rapid swinging dance.

The species of the statues were mouse and chinchilla, one muscular and the other curvy and fluffy, with pronounced, expertly-carved genitalia that seemed to defy gravity in their size.

John wasn't that hung, one of the Amazons giggled, but then again, another countered, she did not know, now did she?

"This is the Courtyard of our Joy in Brilliance Expo," Sylvia said, pointing with her teacup and not spilling a single drop, "and as such will be a social space. A cooldown place for your many exertions," she purred.

In response to the Amazons' cocked heads and upturning, curious purrs, Sylvia waved her paw and escorted them forward. "Come, my dearies."

Around a few curves in the giant convention space hedge maze, Sylvia led them to a hung wall of wood paneling, where on it several small mirrors at a curiously low height sat as a sort of child's fun-house.

"Will we be painting clown faces?" one Amazon asked.

Sylvia giggled, and her attendant Jessica, high librarian, interjected. "Actually, this is a set of Goddess-linked spirit-graphed deviations of Jahaliyan reality--"

Sylvia cleared her throat.

Jessica the fox pulled at her chin. "Um. You know how the mail works?"

"Yes!" one Amazon cheered. "You pull on their cock and then hot cum spurts--"

"No!" interrupted Jessica. "I, oh Goddess."

"Cocks come from there," said Sylvia, pointing at the mirrors.

The Amazons cheered. "I need a male!" many shouted, "hot, throbbing cock!" chimed others.

"Perfect," Sylvia said, finishing her tea, "now for the rest of the Expo."

***

Ryoga came incognito, joined by Raschid the tiny fennec librarian and the blue vixen Meigs, who for one time desired to dress without her doctor's coat, instead favoring a tiny loincloth that covered her groin only when there was no breeze.

She did not wear a top, and instead let her majestic blue-rimmed, white-faced breasts hang freely on her chest, the nipples pert and the soft fur stirring in the breeze.

Ryoga was dressed in a simple vest and a short cape. Complimenting that simplicity sat a simple set of spectacles upon his brow with a chain that connected to a tasteful collar.

When he set the spectacles upon his face, he lost a great amount of muscle mass and a few inches in height. The majestic, sexy silver wolf was now a spindly, starved fox.

"Just call me Roy of Gaoren," he chuckled, "people get so fussed with the royal etiquette."

Roy entered the festival with his escorts Raschid and Meigs and an excitable boy's wonder, clapping at the sights and introducing himself incessantly to all the vendors and artists.

A good number of Jahaliyans found his physique distantly reminiscent, if much too-skinny. The silver-white wolf with his impossible boyish energy could not have been more than nineteen.

Roy skipped through the festival, though there were marked times he stumbled: there were more than a few vendor tables selling charming erotic wood carvings and large hand-painted wall scrolls and duvet covers of ... Ryoga, Prince of Jahaliya.

There were so many erotic drawings of Ryoga... and the rest of Jahaliya's ruling class!

Roy had to roll his eyes at this, as there were so many perfect sexual subjects, so many exotic delights such as Lisa the svelte raccoon girl, excellent pantheress Lydra, sexy muscle hunk John, dominant bear Horace, and oh goodness, was that his mother, Queen Malva? Not needing of the garish exaggerations put on here.

Ryoga had his virtuous ego, which sustained him through many hardships while Jahaliya would often tap-dance close to Goddess' damnation ... but there was a limit.

Roy saw a body pillow cover depicting Ryoga with plump, girly hips.

It was terribly offensive.

He bought three.

Giggling at all this ridiculous merchandise, Roy ran forward toward a pulsing bass sound. Music thumped in his ears, his gut, and his penis from a stage set up like a gymnast-ballerina's play space. From a score of long, thin blue ribbons spun about the sexy, confident rabbit bowmistress Natasha, the silky banners wrapping about her curvaceous, nude body as she defied gravity in sensual syncopation with the music.

An enormous female snow leopard bumped into Roy, who was currently shoveling popcorn into his mouth as his erection poured from his sheath and his bags of erotic merchandise hung from the crook of his elbow.

"Ey!" Roy complained, flicking popcorn up at the snow leopard. "Fine view of ass you got on you, but I'm watching this channel!"

Governess Cyndra glared down at the bespectacled wolf with his silly merchandise. "I'm sorry," she purred, "but my spot seems to have been taken by a gimpy male who prefers to snuggle with bedsheets, not women."

At that point, Cyndra's back straightened and her fur poofed out. There was a strange magic about this skinny, uppity male, and it wasn't from his stupid teenager confidence.

"In fact," Cyndra said with a raised voice, making sure the guards could hear, "I think I shall assist you in tuning your fetishes! No pillow can be as warm and plump as I!"

Cyndra did not await his response, but grabbed him by the collar and dragged him toward the nearest dressing tent where shoppers for harnesses, boots, and other sexy apparel could try on their creations before strutting their stuff.

"I did not hear consent from that boy!" Meigs called after them, but tiny Raschid grabbed her loincloth belt.

"Hush! You do not have authority over the Myscindryan Governess!" he hissed. "You're a doctor, not a diplomat!"

Cyndra had Roy by the neck as she slapped the tent flap shut behind her. She held him easily by one paw and wound the other one up for an obliterative punch.

"Spy!" she hissed, "Jahaliya is the last place an innocent person would disguise himself!"

Roy fumbled past her thick arm and pulled his pince-nez glasses from his face. The magic spell swiftly wound down and restored to him the noble, muscular, sexy form of Prince Miscon.

Cyndra gasped and almost dropped him, catching him by the ears at the last moment to set him on his footpaws.

Her head thumped against the ground as she prostrated herself. "Goddess' mercy!" she begged, "I almost committed regicide!"

Ryoga, clearing his throat a few times to restore his crimped trachea, chuckled and cleaned his spectacles off on his cape. "Funny way of interrogating you got there," he murred, "you almost got excessive."

"I beg the Goddess' understanding," Cyndra said into the carpeted dirt floor.

"Well..." Ryoga paused, looking skyward, "good instincts though. An assassin could have struck. But you see the consequences?"

"An eternity of damnation," Cyndra whimpered.

"Quite correct. Finesse, my dear, but ... lesson learned."

Ryoga snapped the glasses back on his face and resumed his twiggy form.

"Wait," Cyndra said, "I must give you some recompense," she said, and stroked his thigh from his knee up, her paw gliding inward to his wolfhood.

Roy shivered as his cock responded, the pink tip swelling from its sheath. "Tempting," he said with bated breath, "but we are here to see the exhibition."

Cyndra stood and turned to leave, grasping the tent flap. "Very well. I will bother you no longer."

Roy rushed up behind her and grasped her rump with both paws, stroking the bodacious furry cheeks. Cyndra's body curled in response, her tail up and her enormous breasts pushed out. "I have a better idea," he said. "What say you that a twiggy little fanboy as myself follows around the Governess of Myscindyr; suddenly the Great Amazon has a funny fucktoy that can't seem to get enough of her ass."

Cyndra purred as his paws coursed across her rump, sometimes venturing into her cleft and stroking between the cheeks, teasing her tailhole. "I'd say it'd confuse everyone, especially my Amazons. What if they deduce it's you?"

Ryoga's paws slid between her legs, each resting on one lip of her warm, plump labia. "I'll be impressed at their perception."

When they returned to the stage, Natasha was almost done with her show, sliding uniformly down the ribbons with every silk banner complimenting her smooth, taut lines as, wrapped around her, they let her down.

The bunny gracefully touched the stage with one footpaw, then the other. To enormous applause--and a few males attempting to mount the stage and charge after her with stage guards holding them back--she left with a laugh and a bouncy jog.

The next guest was introduced for the curtain dance.

The reactions at first were all directed toward the show, only pausing to give Governess Cyndra a humble, esteemed welcome as she joined them.

However, as the next act was set up, more and more eyes seemed to drift to that stringy wolf behind her who, appearing at first as some amusing boytoy, suddenly seemed over-amorous.

There was a rumble of curiosity among them as Lisa the raccoon girl strung herself up in the curtains: that wolf now had his face against the Governess's rump, nuzzling the cheeks with his head under her tail!

Lisa was up in the curtains, soon spinning around with the blue silk banners cradling and accentuating her lithe form. Most people in rapt attention to her, but then she began to notice an odd number of eyes landing upon Governess Cyndra--honorable she be--and remaining there.

Being a creature of necessary habits and a former street beggar, Lisa was always on-alert for the odd. She saw a skinny wolf behind Cyndra, his tiny maleness hard and dripping, and then as her eyes locked on where that wolf's head was, shetripped in her performance, tangling up in the curtains.

He was licking her rump, right on the tailhole!

Lisa gasped, struggling to keep the dance going, but instead pulled too hard on the wrong curtain and yanked it from the support. This broke with a loud crack, sending Lisa spinning to the ground with a gasp from the crowd.

This also tore attention away from Cyndra and Roy, so in an act of brazen showmanship, Cyndra reached back and yanked Roy out from under her, holding him upside down by one ankle as she began sucking his cock.

Roy moaned and kept his glasses pressed tight to his muzzle, humping the enormous rough tongue as waves of pleasure shot through his body.

Lisa rebounded from the stage with a resounding thud that sent soundwaves almost as far as it sent her: she flew up, up, up into the air and got a view of three-fourths of the festival grounds, then tumbled down into some distant attraction with crashes, screams, then rounds of applause as the invincible raccoon stepped unharmed from the rubble.

Natasha smacked the stagehands with a handful of festival pamphlets.

"Didn't I tell you to set those overhangs properly?!" she roared to the bunch.

"Oh Goddess, I'm coming!" Roy gasped.

Cyndra pulled Roy out of her mouth as he shuddered with a low moan, waves of warm cum spurting from his cock in long, thick bursts.

Cyndra inclined her chin and met the shower with a thrilled purr, closing her eyes as it sprayed over her face, her neck, and her breasts in bouncy white strings.

The audience didn't know what to stare at: the disaster onstage or the Governess's exhibitionist cum-bath.

Cyndra desperately wanted to rip Ryoga's glasses off and proclaim whose seed she wore! But she saw that the wolf was already looking up at her, grinning with a paw held fast to his spectacles.

Very well, she would continue the ruse. But if it turned to cruel humiliation, she would rethink the entire alliance.

"Vassal state," her cunt.

The next thing Roy permitted, strangely, was that she use him as a towel to wipe his cum off of her.

It was much too generous, but she appealed to his request and dragged his lanky body all over her face and breasts, scrubbing out every last drop of seed before setting him back down, utterly spiky and ruined.

"Your company now embarrases me," Cyndra said, "how long will you continue the torture?"

Roy dumped a bucket of water over himself, then shook it out. He was fully erect again.

"I'd just never taken a tour of your body quite like that," he said with a wink.

Cyndra burst into a deep, mirthful laugh. "You are decadent, my Pr... prostitute."

Roy bowed to her in response, smiling brilliantly.

Off in the next section of the festival grounds, Jessica introduced a battalion of young Jahaliya academy students that were trying out a bold idea in visual storytelling.

Roy and Cyndra, with Meigs and Raschid in tow, beheld on a series of pedestals a number of murals, each one with a multitude of drawings, and each drawing rather similar to the last.

Raschid pulled at one of his huge fennec ears while he analyzed it. He said, "It's ... like watching real-life when you're rapidly blinking. And why's there ..."

The fennec ran to a panel and pointed at a small section. "There's a frozen explosion here, with ... 'P-O-W,' prisoner of war? Written on it."

"I think that is an example of onomatopoeia: a word that visually suggests a sound in its phonetics," Meigs said, stretching out and giving a hnnnnngh as she did so.

The males did not mind the blue fox in the tiny loincloth. She caught Roy staring at her and curtsied, which exposed her crotch to the onlookers behind her.

Cyndra lifted Roy by the head and set him on the other side of her.

"It's sequential art," clarified the red fox, Jessica. "Movement from one panel to the next tells a story both visually and mentally. Also, I'm Jessica," she said before the snow leopard's courtesan. "Welcome to Jahaliya!"

"Oh thanks!" said the wolf, "I'm Roy of Gaoren. There's a lot of sexy people here!"

Meigs and Raschid bit their lips as their eyes went wide, freely crying.

"I'm glad you made it," said Jessica, making sure to arch her back and present her buxom form to the newcomer. "With Goddess' blessing, perhaps you can be sexy, too!"

Raschid and Meigs fell against Cyndra's thighs and wept, pulling her fur into their mouths as they howled in laughter.

Cyndra stood as a colossus, chest out, arms to the side, but Goddess bless her if she could just scream into her fist.

She saw Roy reach for his glasses.

"You get back here, you naughty boy!" Cyndra commanded.

The wolf slinked back to her with a devil's grin.

Jessica smiled, then realized her gaffe. "I do apologize, Governess," she said as her ears burned, "If you prefer boys that thin ... I mean ... everyone is beautiful in Goddess' eyes ..."

"Continue," Cyndra commanded.

Jessica bowed, then did so, pointing at the picture of an armed warrior in the midst of battle. "As you can see in these next panels, the juxtaposition of motion lines--these swoops on the arms and the sword--against these gaps between succeeding pictures, providing closure to each significant part of the action, provides overall a feeling of smooth narrative progress."

The group grunted in agreement, having grown much larger in size.

The crowd from the stage had caught up with Governess Cyndra and her strange, funny boytoy.

"Oh wow, I didn't expect this audience," Jessica tittered. "Ahem. Considering the type of action: be it brutal, graceful, sudden, or deliberate; with the nature of the lines: bold, subtle, so forth--we get a sense of atmosphere and theme. Is it a harsh barbarian's tale, is it a ballad of warriors? There are so many details, but they are all in your control!" she cheered.

"But how?" Roy chirped. "I want sexy warrior women of my own! Besides this one; I'm just a rental," he said, then leaned back with one paw against Cyndra as if she were a vehicle or house he owned.

It just so happened his paw was right on her crotch.

"No problem!" Jessica said, trembling a little bit as she saw hard lines form on Cyndra's face, "now, while I don't remember all this medium's concepts--it's deep--happily enough you do not need any foreign machinery or strange chemicals. Just pencil, ink, and paper!"

The crowd applauded and loitered around Cyndra and Roy for a little longer, but when the two just ordered some food from a passing vendor and ate in peace, with Roy sitting on Cyndra's thigh, they moved on.

Formerly standing beside one of the more expressionist panels, an otter with paint all over his paws waddled up to her. "Excuse me," he asked, and Jessica answered with a smile and an open paw.

"Um, thank you. The generality of your speech was very good; glad you didn't take us into some super-specific artist right away. If we were taught all the foreign concepts in detail, we'd be imitating instead of inventing!"

"It can be handy to learn from the masters," said Jessica, folding her paws behind her.

"Oh sure!" said the otter, "but this way we can explore this exciting new visual language in a way that ... feels true to us. We can save the masters for later. Who are the masters, anyway?"

Jessica's eyes widened. "None from this land," she said, inclining her head to the sky. "Goddess, that was the old world..."

"Stand here," Cyndra said, grabbing Roy completely around the waist with two paws as she set him on a central rotating pedestal bathed in many spotlights.

All around the edges, Amazons sitting on stools facing mounds of clay looked on at the new model. Sylvia, their instructor, opened her mouth to object to the sudden intrusion, but she noticed that this skinny wolf-boy stood too confidently.

It was definitely Prince Ryoga pulling a masquerade. Sylvia worried that the Amazons may not react that gracefully, and she was dreadfully correct. Complaints exploded all around.

"He's skinny as a twig!"

"The clay will break like crystal!"

"What's the next subject, a hunchback?"

This was not the time for jests, and Cyndra regretted her own stunt: in the audience surrounding this triage of artists, the stadium lavishly-appointed with its floors marble, the stools silk-upholstered, a ring of seating built around this grand operation, sat all the royal elite including King Gohrig, Queen Malva, Horace the Harem's teacher, as well as the entire Royal Harem.

Cyndra's arm flung out at Roy, but the insulted wolf was already in motion.

After all, he may a Prince Incognito, but his pride has its limits...

"Alright, maybe this is up to your standards!" Roy growled, ripping off his glasses and transforming into his full, sensual form.

Their Royal audience gasped, and while King Gohrig grasped the balcony railing, raking his claws against it, Queen Malva sat back, paw fast on the end of her muzzle as she attempted to suppress her laughter.

The artists all gasped, some knocking their clay stands over while others lunged to quickly bow at their grievous, near-blasphemous error.

"Now, now," Ryoga called out, spreading his arms and paws wide, "let this be a lesson to you: do not complain if your teacher is just: in this case, the wise and always-proper Matron Sylvia. You lost faith, and see where it got you?"

Cyndra stood with her paw over her eyes, humiliated.

"This visit is having its hiccups," she said.

"I'm sure we can salvage it," he responded, "and Goddess bless you for having such expectations. I actually liked being that light; was fairly handy for being woman-handled."

He threw a wink at Cyndra.

"Now then, I am not the main subject of this project, considering that my mother, the Queen, would never allow that kind of ego-stroking. But that doesn't mean we can have some fun, can we?"

The Amazons puzzled over his cryptic proclamation, but were soon clued in when they were each handed an empty tube, roughly the size of a quiver, and pointed toward their clay mounds.

The massive, muscular lion Sumbara mounted the central platform. Seeing that he was only semi-erect, Sylvia strutted up and kissed him on the tip of his cock, which with her generous, naked breasts hanging before her proudly and prominently, was plenty enough to get him hard and ready.

The first Amazon to fill the large cylinder with a special clay was commended by Sylvia and given a sack full of tokens for the rest of the artistic expo. Excitedly, the spry, buxom ocelot bounced on her footpaws, then ran off before Sylvia could catch her.

"Dear me; she'll miss all the fun," she told herself, then shoved her paw into the head of the tube to create a deep slit.

With the clay spilling over, the tube with its moist, warm clay looked rather similar to a very feminine part.

"Ahem," Sylvia said to herself with a blush, then handed the tube to Cyndra. "This was your show, was it not?"

"Thank you for entertaining them," Cyndra said, "I apologize if I was delayed by ... our honorable Prince's antics."

"Oh nonsense!" Sylvia laughed. "He keeps us on our toes when he, himself, is protecting us from perils."

"He is a silly, brilliant man," Cyndra answered, then shooed Sylvia away.

"Amazons, I want you to shape up and forget that nasty fall that all of you took," Cyndra growled. All of the buxom, tall females went sword-straight on their stools, poised at-attention for their grand Governess.

"Now then!" Cyndra continued, "while most of us are no strangers to pleasurable, intimate, consensual encounters with all the beautiful males that throw themselves at us ... "

She paused, letting her coterie of horny female reformed barbarians purr and cheer.

"We do not keep anything but memories of our encounters, and I think we ought to immortalize the finest examples of this excellent tool that males possess, and we desire, Nay! Demand!" she roared, bringing the females to a lusty, clawing frenzy.

She calmed them down by extending one flattened paw.

Sumbara posed and grinned at the females pawing at him from their seats, his luscious, enormous mane blowing in the breeze in this outdoor patio.

Cyndra walked around on her stage, tossing the tube in her paw. "So we will commemorate the best examples by--"

Thoonk.

Sumbara had thrust his thick member inside the quiver-sized tube, and Cyndra could do nothing but let it go.

Cyndra crossed her arms. "I did not say I was ready, Sumbara."

"No worry, babe," he growled, putting his paws behind his head and waggling his cock-mounted tube, "I'll slow down."

Cyndra shrugged, forced to move on in the lesson. "We Jahaliyans and Jahaliyan affiliates," she called out to the audience, "must always be wise and sure with any immediate movements!"

"You calling me hasty?" Sumbara asked, pawing at the tube, "what do you mean?"

Cyndra reached over and tugged the tube, which had the effect of yanking the entire sexy, muscular lion forward.

"I'll wager that your pubic fur is stuck," she said, then let Sumbara launch into a few desperate tugs as the nature of his predicament sunk in, the long tube bouncing as the clay set in.

"Oh, dear Goddess," Malva said to herself, then crowed out in jubilant amusement, the Queen of Jahaliya laughing, howling, in long, brilliant peals of laughter as she thrust her chest out, mouth open wide at this comedy of errors.

The rest of the stadium erupted into laughter too, with the King restraining himself with dignified amusement, but before Sumbara could take any sort of horrible offense, Cyndra caught him and said, "you've quite overextended yourself, dear. We will all get through this."

King Gohrig stood and spread his arms. "Calm down, calm down," he said, which had the intended effect before he'd uttered a single word. "Sumbara," he called out, his voice echoing, "my incredible warrior; you see how stupid it was to thrust into an engagement most unknown, do you not?"

"Yes,your Majesty. The point is made. May I go to the infirmary?"

"No."

"Sire!" Sumbara begged, dropping to his knees and banging the quiver against the platform, "I ... I cannot be trapped in this forever!"

King Gohrig held up a paw. "You will not be, ye of little faith. As punishment for disrupting our excellent Governess's expose of lust and passion, we shall enjoy some impromptu performance art in freeing your penis from that contraption!"

The crowd gave out a curious purr, imploring for the King to elaborate but only being served by an advance of nurses with an array of silver, strange surgical instruments.

Meigs turned the spikiest and most elaborate ones away, splashing a tray of dentistry tools up and out into a border oasis, but let others of gleaming, tiny sharpness pass.

Sumbara whimpered.

Queen Malva, yawning at the strange showmanship, touched her husband's breast and asked him, "While it's all fun and games making a precautionary fable of his over-enthusiasm, oughtn't we assist our Governess in casting our sexy cocks? Not mine, as obviously I lack one--"

"Do you want one?" Gohrig asked, already hard at the overwhelming spectacle.

"Absolutely not. But we should have all the male models--including you, my love--have their own castings without any of Sumbara's disaster."

"How would we avoid it?" Gohrig asked.

Malva chuckled, her female body taking ease. She put her heels up on the railing, and she stretched her virile, buxom, lupine form out in her seat, her breasts fat and nipples pert, her nethers tight, a small extra slit between her legs. "Both ends of the cock, dear; I can't believe you forgot yours--then again, I can understand why we females pay more attention to them. There's the coarse, catchy hair at one end, and there's hole at the other. We cannot soil the clay, can we?"

Down below, Dr. Meigs joined a group of sculptors with chisels and hammers to free Sumbara from his cock's concrete prison.

"One part of me says to chop it off and dig it out," she said, which made Sumbara scream and run for the exit. A group of guards caught him and brought him back.

The sick, blue fox chuckled. "You must really think with your top head sometime," she snarked.

"And you can't joke with your expertise!" Sumbara countered.

"Yes I can," she droned. "Anyway, we can cut the hairs here, but of course the entire body is coated in them, so it will require an expert hand. I am a doctor, not a barber, but then again barbers were surgeons in the 'bleeding age,' but that was a highly ... inaccurate ... time."

The mention of "bleeding" made Sumbara whimper.

"Do you know the exact length of your penis?" Meigs asked him.

"Uh, long?" he said.

"We all fucking know that, but we have to drill a hole in the bottom because you will have to urinate before your cock is completely freed ... if you still want it attached to you."

"What?!"

Meigs shrugged. "I don't know, Goddess can restore it. I can fix your problem and make you Queen of the Amazons with one simple chop."

"That had better be surgeon humor!"

"And an offer. What do I know? I'm a doctor, not a butcher."

Malva rested her jaw against her thumb. The High Doctor she had discovered was a bit of a sadist, but never one of the body--just some hyper-intelligent sociopath that enjoyed teaching her subjects a lesson.

Meigs was, by far, the most effective in fixing people once, and never again.

The rest of the males had marched in at this point, and one servant rushed up a fleshquiver for Gohrig, which Malva accepted graciously and then kissed her husband's lips before leveling it over his cock.

Every male, including Sumbara and Gohrig, had a fleshquiver on soon enough, but every single one aside from the cocky male lion's were treated to a quick ointment coating to avoid repeating Subara's predicament and were inserted into a fleshquiver that had a hole drilled out at the end.

"I'd recommend you all walk around as the clay settles," Cyndra announced, "just to let gravity do its work, as we do not want a mold with a bunched-up base and a pointy end; I've seen most of your cocks and they aren't shaped like rapiers!"

As such, males of all walks in Jahaliyan life were strutting about with quivers-for-cocks, occasionally cringing as the tube rested too heavily on their balls. However burdened that they were, the Myscindryans couldn't resist offering a welcome distraction, ostensibly if asked, out of the goodness of their hearts.

Some came from the back and some approached from the front, and all delighted in teasing the males to ensure their bodies and their cocks were fully ready. The ladies nuzzled the male's faces, stroked their toned chests and nipples, grasped their rumps, fondled their balls, and even more presented themselves for a fondling, presenting their breasts, rumps, and groins to be admired, stroked and licked.

Inspired by such attentions, the males fleshquivers' load became surprisingly comfortable, and a familiar white substance jetted out the ends of the tubes of a few confirmed that.

These the Amazons had to doubly address, making sure they remained hard throughout the casting process, allowing their rumps to be frotted to maintain the males' robust hardness.

Tina puzzled over Meigs's frantic scribbling as the doctor laid out her findings like architecture designs, then her ears quirked to hear a broom in one corner, a mop in another.

A sweeper and a mopper, strange. Usually the servants waited until the party was done to clean up. Perhaps they were being proactive?

After an hour, exactly to the second, Cyndra snapped her fingers and what seemed like a hundred servants slipped in between the females, patted the males' lower stomachs, then with a simple twist removed the molds before the males knew what was going on.

Many of their erections popped up and slapped them on the stomach, having gotten used to the weight.

Sumbara, having been excused from center stage to a side attraction, had his own chipped out with a chisel not even the size of a thumbclaw. Dr. Meigs wore a pair of magnified spectacles that allowed her to see the follicles of her own finger-fur.

"There, you cocksure oaf," the vixen said as the mold came off in two pieces, "Make sure you remember what the King said! I will bill you for my manicure."

"Thank you madam," he said with great humility.

"Doctor," she corrected. "I did not spend twelve years studying medical centerfolds to be compared to a common cock sorceress!"

That evening, surrounded by vigorous cock-candles formed by wax poured into the molds, Cyndra presided on a dais over a banquet of the royal class, its dignitaries, and special Jahaliyan guests.

The snow leopard raised a goblet of Jahaliyan creme spiked with cum, and swirled it about. "A toast to Goddess and Her Kingdom," she said, summoning polite applause, "for my province has prospered greatly with your Jahaliya, its culture, and its Blessing."

She and the rest of her audience drank heartily.

It had been three years since the Myscindryan battle with Jahaliya, a loss borne not in blood, but in humility. Cyndra still remembered her heavy bronze bikini made of massive plates and a slat hiding her buxom breasts and plump, velvety nethers.

"I stand among my newfound sisters and brothers-in-arms having lost, as a nation, all of our clothing; not in defeat, nor humiliation, but in acceptance, in excitement!" she said, which garnered purrs, whoops, and more vigorous applause.

As she continued, Kestrel in a maid's apron that covered nothing but her sternum and perhaps her pubic fur came up from behind Cyndra, much like Ryoga, and leapt up to splat both of her enormous breasts with custard tarts.

The crowd screamed with laughter and arousal as the chinchilla did a little dance as she pranced away, and before Cyndra could respond she was beset by many more servants--and one skinny wolf with eyeglasses--splatting pies all over her naked body, from her hips to her shoulders, her rump and her face.

"Yes," she said to herself, "pie me, make yourself hard for me; we are all proud Sluts and hunger for your big, thick pulsing cocks!"

Custard squished through her fingers as she squeezed her breasts and writhed onstage. Her eyes glanced to the lewd candles slowly burning down all around her, some extinguished by splatters of confectionery.

"It's so good, but no substitute for the real thing," she purred.

King Gohrig stood from the banquet table, the tablecloth hanging from his thick lupine shaft. Queen Malva kindly removed the cloth, exposing him.

"Yes, well we've loved our dessert-for-appetizer, but how about on to the main course?" he asked, to which a grand cake was wheeled out on a cart that heavily clanked with its load. Their chef, a bull, could hardly contain himself--and barely keep his enormous bovine cock away from the cake--as he pranced the seemingly innocent treat before them all.

"Oh! Is it the anniversary of our alliance?" Cyndra asked, dripping in custard.

The King joined her onstage, flashing a conciliatory grin to his spectators. Those who murred were slapped by their neighbors.

"Why yes! Why don't you blow out the candle?" he asked, pointing to a wax replica of his own grand member atop the multilayered cake.

"Perhaps not blow out," Cyndra purred, then leaned in.

At that moment the wolf King shoved Cyndra face-first into the cake. She plummeted, light, fluffy, moist baked wonder mashing her face, her tits, her stomach and nethers.

The snow leopard felt she was surrounded by the sweet delight before she felt a harder, more savory treat prodding against her sex. Strong paws gripped both of her hips as King Gohrig pushed the tip of his shaft against her nethers and, with a slow, confident push, slid inside of her body.

Cyndra felt her walls spread around him as the King fucked her passionately, thrusting repeatedly inside her, thick shaft spreading her lips wide. When he hilted, he forced her deeper into the cake, and the snow leopardess could only laugh as she struggled out of the dessert to see the entire banquet evolving into an orgy; chests, groins, and mouths of all types bumping against and inside of each other.

This was the kinky naughtiness she lusted for, Cyndra thought as the King pushed her down into the cake, her breasts smashing what was left of the frosted delight.

He knotted inside of her, spraying the inside of her sex with his hot load. Though he was knotted, Cyndra could not wrap entirely around him and as such, felt some of his seed leak out down her thighs.

Tina was bouncing on a sorceress Amazon's mighty magic cock as she fingered another Amazon and pawed off an enthusiastic Jahaliyan male.

When the skinny wolf with the spectacles erupted all over Tina's face, spraying many more ropes of seed over her muzzle and breasts than his tiny body should have allowed, the muscular skunk bit her lip and shook her head, grinning.

Ryoga, that coy bastard.

But on the topic of subterfuge, Tina spotted another sweeper, this one a hawk sweeping up cake frosting with a dry broom.

He had feathers for fingers, and was doing a terrible job at it. His eyesight, however, was perfect.

"Good round, guys," Tina said as she pulled off the sorceress, pulled her paw out of the Amazon, and wiped the splattery seed from her face to slurp at her hand. "But I gotta get going."

Tina came up to Sylvia in the corner of the room who had been watching. Her lover Horace was standing beside her reading over a scroll, but his long cock was hanging out of its sheath and dripping copiously.

Sylvia's legs ran sticky with seed.

"Harem Matron," Tina said. When she covered her face to hide her bashfulness, she smelled Ryoga's seed. "Oof, wow."

The lioness turned to her, tranquil in her afterglow. "Something you need, Tina?"

"You been seeing a lot of brooms, lately?"

The lioness frowned at first, her eyes flicking skyward as she reexamined her memory. "Yes, quite. I've not heard any initiative to bring the honest peasants up to castle custodial work; the ones I've seen are quite bad."

"Could they be spies?" Tina asked. "I mean, if they were really new servants, Goddess would have Blessed them with quick learning!"

Sylvia shot upright. Regardless of the sexual musk and markings streaking her body, her pose spoke of a warrior ready for a threat. "Perhaps you're right; good eyes, Tina!"

Horace braced himself to follow his lover. "No, keep your cool,"

Sylvia smiled at the privilege of a lover of such good sense complementing his sensuality, "Horace, have you ever enjoyed Tina?" the Matron said with a saucy grin.

Horace's cock twitched at the offer, but the scholarly bear sighed, "Sylvia, I told you that I cannot fuck my students until they have finished my instruction. Professional ethics?"

"Integrity," Sylvia purred with fulfillment, "Just one of the lovelier things about you."

"I look forward to the full list from you." answered Horace before he licked her paw and turned to the writhing crowd, his bouncing bearhood already drawing interest.

With her lover occupied, Sylvia and Tina marched through the orgy and snapped her paw around the hawk's beak before he had a chance to see her.

"Now, I'm one for mercy, but your gang has been spying throughout our commons!" she hissed. "You have fifteen seconds to prove to me you're not of the Poacher Queen's before I break your neck!"

The hawk chirped as she released her beak.

"I'm sorry, Matron Sylvia!" he gasped, falling on his tail feathers and getting smacked by the broom when it fell, "I-I-I'm one of Sawchuck's apprentices--"

"Poppycock!" the lioness snarled, "there's too many of you!"

The orgy slowed to a leisurely ride, everyone slurping and humping at a speed that didn't impede their hearing.

Ryoga removed his spectacles, popping out into full form while inside somebody, doubling the size of his cock with a loud oof! from his mating partner.

"I swear!" the hawk whimpered, "he hired an army of us to look for anything wrong with his new stadium, these new structures, down to the smallest bolt, and report back to him. He's not left his office since the Governess' arrival. We think he's still kicking himself from the collapse that nearly killed Ryoga's second wife!"

Sylvia snapped her fingers and received paper and a fountain pen.

"Fine, draw me an erection."

The hawk tackled the scroll and drew the concept model for a twenty-story building made of glass, metal, and concrete.

Then he looked up at her, and with a grin from his beak, drew a penis on top of it.

Sylvia blushed hard as the crowd behind her erupted into laughter.

"Fine Jahaliyan humor," she grumbled, hearing in the background her lover give a Jahaliyan female a delirious orgasm. "But we'll need to talk with Sawchuck tomorrow. Nobody can be so miserable during a celebration."

"Yes, and I think I know just who'd be perfect for that!" piped Tina as she enjoyed the fission of inspiration. "I'll get her up to speed before we turn in tonight!"

"You do that, but give me the details of the arrangements forthwith!." quipped Sylvia as she knelt down and pulled the hawk up into standing by his cock, yanking a few squawks and precum from him. "Ever the precocious student, that Tina," said the lioness.

"C-c-can I go?" the hawk stammered.

"You'll cum first," Sylvia said, then pushed him into a crowd of males and females streaked with frosting. "don't let him go until he's named the entire list of his cohorts!" she called out.

"I got the list in my satchel here!" the hawk called out as a female encircled his cock in her breasts and a male began licking under his tailfeathers. A third Jahaliyan kissed him on the beak while a fourth squeezed his dotted feathery chest.

"No, this is more fun. Let this be a lesson to all Jahaliya!"

"Oh Goddess!" the hawk cawed. At this point, he was lifted on the cock of a robust leopard while a female fennec slurped at his own. A female was lifted overhead and her groin was offered to his beak for a lively tonguing. "What could the lesson be?!"

"How about the virtues of confession?" purred Sylvia as she pondered their next moves for Sawchuck. "There are no unnecessary secrets here. Do not try to fuck with us. We fuck back."