FSE

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Being sold into slavery wasn't the absolute worst thing to happen to Jericho, even if his sellers were his own parents. Being a twenty-something fennec with the brains of a mule, he wouldn't have been able to get a job as a laborer or craftsman. Living in a desert where resources tend to be scarce, a useless person like him wouldn't last a month on his own. The mere fact that anyone had any interest in him was mind-boggling to the tiny vulpine.

It happened like so: he failed to secure another job for the same reasons as before (small, weak, and dumb) and his parents were struggling to financially support him and his younger, more society-beneficial siblings. One day, a group of ruffians sent by one of the wealthy nobles that ran his home city Alabaster came by the poor household with an ultimatum: sell the fine-assed twink to them or be run into the ground.

Jericho would've liked to think he made the choice himself to help out his family, but between the threatening men and his parents' financial struggles, there wasn't much of a choice at all. Without a useless sack of meat eating away their money, his parents could more effectively raise their children, especially with the rather large sum of cash that came their way.

When Jericho was led out of his former home with his wrists bound behind his back, he didn't look back. He wasn't sour about the arrangement, but he felt that if he were to see his family one last time, he would lose his already crumbling composure. He was loaded into the carriage and made his way to his new residence without a peep.

Despite the unexpectedly jovial atmosphere given off by the chattering brutes, the tod was silent throughout the trip. His tension wasn't lost on the closest man, a heavily muscled wolf with a large scar running down his face. The lupine patted the bound fox on the shoulder, eliciting a quiet squeak from him.

"Relax, kiddo. You're going to a good home. Lord Rowan may be a stuffy, uptight grump, but he's kind to his property. Just don't piss him off and you'll be golden." He tapped his scar with a sneer, causing Jericho to sink into his seat. Taking pity on the fox, the wolf grabbed him and sat him on his lap. At first, Jericho thought the notion was sexual and groaned at the thought, but when the brute turned him toward the window, his spirit lightened.

As the carriage made its way to its destination, Jericho soaked in the sights of what was considered the better part of Alabaster. The upperclass market street was lined with well-kempt sandstone buildings and clean outdoor stalls. The wealthy salesmen advertised their wares to well-dressed patrons who walked with an air of confidence and superiority. He had never set foot in this district; the guards would often shoo him away at best and shove their blades in his face at worst.

When the buildings parted, a magnificent view of the ocean was played out before him. He loved the ocean and would often visit it, but seeing it at this angle where the hot sun reflected off of the waves was a sight to behold. Several ships were tied to the stone docks and the dockhands looked like ants as they bustled to and fro. The mesmerized fox simply sat and observed the sights, completely oblivious to the ruffians that he rode with.

With a jolt, the carriage stopped in front of a large mansion overlooking the sea. It was a mere stone's throw away from the market, a fitting location for the lord in charge of managing the city's commerce. Jericho was led out of the wagon and escorted through the gates of the estate. Standing and waiting for his purchase was Lord Rowan himself, an anubian jackal dressed in a silk suit and gold jewelry. Flanking him were two well-dressed servants who stood without acknowledgement or emotion.

The wolf led Jericho to his new master with a rope leash attached to his bound wrists. When he handed Rowan the lead, he gave a questioning look to the timid tod first, then to the brute. "Any trouble?" he asked, motioning at the leash.

"Not at all, sir. He came along without a fuss and his parents seemed happy to be rid of him. The rope's more for show, really."

Rowan rolled his eyes, but turned to the servant on his right. "Go fetch the gold," he commanded. The servant bowed and walked back into the mansion. "Untie the boy. The bindings aren't necessary and I don't want my property damaged," he said to the wolf, who obliged without a word. By the time Jericho was freed from the rope, the servant returned with a small wooden chest.

"For your services," Rowan stated as the ruffians received their payment. "Divvy it up how you see fit. As always, I expect to do business with you soon. Goodbye." The ruffians left the estate and made their way toward the markets, eager to spend their hard-earned cash. Rowan turned his gaze to Jericho. "Come."

The four individuals entered the mansion. When he stepped through the doors, Jericho gasped; the walls were lined with decorations made of different precious metals, gold being the most prominent. Artifacts of eras past and baubles of excessive worth sat on pedestals in spotless glass cases. The servants closed the doors behind them and left the two to their devices. Rowan stared down at the shy fox. "Strip," he ordered.

"I-I'm sorry?" Jericho responded with a confused expression.

"Remove your clothes. You will not require them. I also do not allow filthy objects within my household." To add to his point, he raked a claw down the fennec's clothing and scratched off a layer of dust caked into the fabric. Jericho discarded the threadbare fabrics onto the floor, leaving him standing nude in front of the imposing lord. Rowan circled the tod and corrected his posture where he saw fit. "When you stand idle, you are to stand up straight and hold your hands behind your back."

When Jericho was adequately presentable, Rowan began inspecting the tod. "Good eyes. Nice and blue. Much better than the common muddy brown your kind tend to have." He moved down to his jaw and observed his teeth. "Slight discoloration, but nothing some cleaning won't fix." He ran his hands down the fennec's sides and legs, making casual observations here and there.

He then moved to Jericho's nether-regions. He fondled his scrotum and pushed his thumb into his sheath, eliciting a tiny yip from the fox. "Appropriate size, good breeding material, no apparent diseases. You are in much better condition than I originally anticipated."

"Thank you, sir." At his utterance of "sir," Rowan slightly squeezed his genitals, causing some pain.

"You will refer to me as 'Master.' Understand?"

Through a grimace, Jericho replied, "Yes, Master."

Rowan stood up and gave him a slight nod. "Good boy." He turned in place with a grace that matched his class. "Come. We must get you cleaned and presentable." Rowan led his slave down a hall to the side. Paintings lined the walls, and although Jericho was completely ignorant to the worth of art, he knew that each piece was definitely worth more than the entirety of the slum district he grew up in.

Rowan smiled at Jericho's curiosity. "I see you've noticed my collection. While many nobles enjoy throwing away their wealth on pointless luxuries, I spend my time and gold collecting, maintaining, and refurbishing objects who's worth will only grow with time. I have, what they say, an eye for detail. You should feel honored; you're now a part of my collection."

Jericho stopped in his tracks, Rowan doing the same when he no longer heard his soft footsteps. "What do you mean?" the fox asked, suddenly both very self-conscious and nervous. The jackal laughed, realizing what he implied, and patted the skittish fox's head.

"Sorry, sorry. You'll be joining my collection as a living piece. Though you may not age as well as an antique, right now you are a beautiful specimen."

Jericho blushed, still very aware of his lack of clothing. "Really?" Rowan nodded.

"Yes. I find male beauties to be quite attractive. Unfortunately, they are quite rare to find and rarer to procure through civilized means. Thanks to my status and wealth, I am able to see the records of every citizen in Alabaster and from what I found in yours, I believed you would be the easiest to obtain. I'm glad I was not wrong." He ended his explanation with a smarmy smile. Jericho's ears flattened and he averted his eyes.

The two continued to the back of the building to a bathing room. A large marble tub, similar to a swimming pool but only about two feet deep, was recessed in the middle of the floor. Cleaning supplies lined the nearby shelves, but a few specific items were laid near the edge. "You know how to clean yourself, yes? I'm aware fennecs do not require constant bathing, but I still require you to be spotless. I will send a servant to escort you to my study within the hour."

Over the next hour, Jericho scrubbed himself clean. As someone from a poor household, he never had the ability to clean himself with fresh water, so when he stepped out of the bath and dried himself off, he felt exquisite. Despite becoming a slave with no idea what his future held, he was content with his position. A middle-aged maid collected and led him to the other side of the manor and into his master's study.

The room was well-furnished, but much less gaudy than the house's lobby. Rowan looked up from his papers and smiled. "Much better. From your expression, you must feel better too, yes? Nothing like a nice, hot bath to soothe the nerves and freshen the flesh." He turned to the maid. "Thank you, Missus Ida. You're excused." She curtsied and left the room, closing the door on the way out.

Rowan stood from his plush seat and beckoned the tod with a finger. As Jericho approached, the jackal fished out an assortment of gold-plated cuffs, a collar, and a small, wooden box. The items were quite oversized and looked to be more suited for a man twice his size. Before Jericho could question him, Rowan took the collar and pulled it over his head and around his neck. He smirked at the fox's confusion.

He mumbled a word that Jericho did not know and in a split second, the collar shrunk, tightening perfectly to his slim neck. He yipped in surprise and jumped back. He brought his fingers to the band and found he was unable to put them between the metal and his skin. Rowan chuckled and hooked his finger through the front-facing loop on the collar. He pulled the fox closer, Jericho giving no resistance but his face still expressed a bewildered look.

"Never seen magic before, huh?" Rowan asked, still retaining his smirk.

"N-no, I haven't. I thought only saints and demons could use it," Jericho replied, his wide eyes drawn to the small box. He noticed it had unfamiliar engravings and he could feel something coming from it. Rowan shook his head.

"When you've lived as long as I have and spent decades around objects of old, you tend to pick up a few tricks." As he explained, he fitted the wrist and ankle cuffs onto the tod in a similar manner as the collar. They each sported a golden loop for a chain to be secured when necessary. Rowan stepped back to admire his handiwork; the fennec looked more like a well-groomed pet than a slave, something that Rowan was content with.

He sat back down and opened the wooden box. Inside were a pair of rings, one larger than the other. He took the smaller one and slipped it onto his middle finger, a perfect fit. He took the second and brought it closer to the fox. Jericho raised his hand to allow the jackal to fit it onto him, but Rowan shook his head again.

His hand went south, its twin following behind. With his free hand, he lightly grabbed Jericho's penis and slowly pulled back the sheath, exposing his flaccid member. As the skin pulled back, he slipped the ring over his manhood and past his soft knot. With the utterance of a word, the ring quickly shrunk, constricting the tod's dick at the base.

Jericho squeaked and jumped back yet again, pulling away from the jackal's hands. With nothing holding it in place, his sheath pushed itself back over his penis, completely obscuring it and the ring. The fox grabbed himself out of instinct and he could feel the hard, hidden object inside of him. "Master, what is this!?" Jericho asked worriedly.

"That, my pet, is a special ring designed to keep boys like you in line. It serves several purposes: firstly, while I wear my ring and you wear yours, I will know exactly where you are at all times. Secondly, it allows me to constrict or allow blood flow. As I've said before, I love the appearance of male beauties, but erections ruin that image. It is a much more civilized method than other means. It also allows me to breed you in the future if I wish."

The term "breed" had Jericho's ears flatten against his skull. Rowan grinned. "And lastly, well, it's better to show than tell." He laid his thumb on his ring in full view of the tod. With a flick of the finger, he spun the ring and at that moment, a jolt ran through Jericho's genitals. The fox dropped to his knees and grasped his nethers with a shriek. The pain only lasted for a second or two, but it was as if the entire experience of being kicked between the legs were compressed into that tiny time frame.

After the discomfort passed, Jericho looked up at Rowan's sneering face with moistening eyes. "That is what happens when you disobey me, and believe me, that is only a portion of its strength. Do I make myself clear, or do we need another example?"

"I understand, Master," the fox replied with urgency. It was not a feeling he wanted to experience again.

Rowan patted him on the head. "Good boy. I hope that this will be the only time I use this function. Now, since you are already on your knees." Rowan fumbled with the button on his pants and pulled the garment down, revealing his genitals to the tod. His seven-inch dick stood erect and ready for satisfaction.

When Rowan noticed Jericho's wide-eyes, he remarked, "What? Did you think all you would be doing is looking pretty? You have other responsibilities as well." The fennec whimpered but obediently slid forward and brought his snout close to the jackal's awaiting rod. With a bit of coaxing from Rowan, Jericho opened his mouth and engulfed the majority of his penis.

Rowan crooned and rubbed one of the tod's large ears. "Ah, yes, I will definitely enjoy your company." Jericho started suckling and bobbing. He had never performed oral on another man before and his inexperience showed, but he knew that utilizing his tongue was important. The fact that Rowan wasn't complaining told him he was on the right track.

After a minute of silence, except for the slurping sounds synonymous with fallatio, Rowan spoke up. "Now, boy- what was your name again? Jericho, I think- Jericho, as you've probably already figured, you are basically a sex slave. Your job involves looking your absolute best at all times, obeying my every command, and satisfying my carnal desires. You will remain silent unless spoken to and you will stay at my side at all times unless ordered otherwise."

"I may also have you assist me with my projects, such as performing mundane tasks I'd rather not bother my servants with or using your small hands to get into hard-to-reach areas. If you are a good boy, I may allow you to help with some of the more interesting tasks. Understand?"

Jericho gave an "mhmm" as he dutifully sucked the jackal's genitals. The proposition wasn't terrible for the fox; in fact, he sort of liked it. He had free food, free housing, and none of the financial stresses of typical life, and all he had to do was shut up and let the jackal have his way with him.

Jericho happened to look up at Rowan for a clue on how well he was doing and he noticed something. At first, he could tell from his angle that something was off about Rowan, but he couldn't figure out what. Rowan noticed his gaze and gave the tod a toothy grin, and it was here that Jericho realized it. Rowan's canines seemed longer than average and quite sharp, and his pupils looked more like slits than circles. I thought only saints and demons could use it.

The realization hit him full force and he tried to retreat, but Rowan, expecting that this would happen at some point and amused that he took this long to figure it out, clutched the back of his head and kept him still. Jericho's ears flattened to his skull and he let out a whine, but fearing another punishment, he stopped resisting.

"No, no, no," Rowan tutted with his sleazy grin. "You're not done yet." When Jericho hesitantly resumed his task, Rowan scratched the back of his ear. "Yes, I'm a vampire and, yes, those bonds of yours are my creation, but that does not change anything. The person you saw me as before your little discovery is still the same person you're sucking off."

Rowan sighed. "You're still tense, I see. Alright, I'll attempt to answer every question in your little head so you can relax. No, I will not eat you. No, I will not use you for some blood sacrifice or satanic ritual. No, I will not drain you of all your blood and make you a meat puppet. Why would I go out of my way to purchase a rare specimen like you just to kill you off. I mean, honestly; you mortals are so superstitious it hurts." He sighed again. "Does that answer all of your questions?"

Jericho awkwardly nodded, his master's meat still filling his maw. "Good." The next several minutes were silent as Jericho continued to blow his master. He eventually got into a rhythm that maximized the pleasure he gave, and Rowan's soft moans were anything but a deterrent. The tod worked up the courage to look up at his master again; he saw the fangs and felt a pang of fear, but his gaze drifted to Rowan's affectionate eyes.

The jackal was no longer sneering, his sadism quelled by the oral he was receiving. He had hired whores in the past to satiate his needs, but feeling an inexperienced boy's tongue slowly learn how to pleasure a man was new and delightful. The thought of personally training his new fuckthing to mold to his preferences brought a lewd smile to his face.

Soon enough, Rowan felt a familiar tingling in his loins and as much as he would love to keep the sex going, he had work that needed to be done. He slid his hand to the back of Jericho's skull. "Get ready, boy. I expect you to swallow every drop." A second after his last word, he dumped his nuts into the twink's mouth. Several streams of bitter seed caked his throat and ran down his esophagus.

Jericho started swallowing as much as he could, but the jackal's voluminous orgasm was starting to be too much for the tiny fox. He attempted to pull back, preferring to have his face drenched in the viscous liquid than choking on it, but Rowan held him still. With no choice in the matter, Jericho held his breath and worked his throat the best that he could. The jackal's orgasm lasted for what seemed like years, but at last, the last drops of his cum dripped out of his cock.

With a sigh of relief, Rowan let go of the fox and allowed him to pull back. Jericho hacked and coughed, the semen stuck in the back of his throat slowly loosening as it made its way south. Rowan laughed at the boy's predicament, but reached down to scratch him behind the ears. "Very good, boy. I will admit I haven't had a release in quite a while, so as long as you regularly satisfy me, you won't have to choke on my seed."

He pulled his pants back up and refastened the button. When he settled back into his chair, he picked Jericho up and sat him in his lap sideways, resting his small head on his chest. He pulled his chair back to his desk and continued his work. Jericho watched for a little while, but his exhaustion caught up to him. With a few failed attempts to stave off the drowsiness, he fell asleep in Rowan's arms.

A loud knock on the study's door jarred the sleeping fox awake. "Lord Rowan," a woman's voice said on the other side, "dinner is ready. Everything is prepared like you've asked."

"Thank you, Missus Ida. We will be down momentarily," Rowan answered, setting his delicate quill beside his finished reports. He patted Jericho's thigh. "Up. I hope that you're hungry. Missus Ida has a tendency to make a little too much food and I hate seeing it go to waste." Jericho wearily slid off of Rowan's lap as he rubbed his eyes and followed his master out of the room.

A few turns through the spacious manor led to an extravagant dining hall with a large table that could easily sit twelve individuals. Two plates covered with tin lids sat on the table, the larger sitting at the end and the smaller adjacent. Rowan sat at the end to the table and motioned for Jericho to sit next to him. With both of them situated, Missus Ida lifted the lids.

Jericho did not know what to expect, but a well-prepared, well-balanced meal was definitely not it. On his plate was a steaming steak, diced potatoes, and a few other vegetables he did not recognize. The smell invaded his nostrils and his mouth began to water. He gulped and looked at Rowan, who had already begun to eat.

"Did you expect me to feed you dog food and table scraps?" Rowan asked when he noticed the fox's stare. When Jericho shrugged, he continued. "Other masters may enjoy treating their property like trash, but as part of my collection, I will not allow you to become withered and weak. Missus Ida prepares the best food and as a result of eating her exquisite cooking, I've retained my youthful appearance for centuries."

When Jericho's eyes widened and darted toward Ida, Rowan chuckled. "Yes, she is the same as me. Well, more accurately, similar to me. Regardless, if her meals do wonders for me, then they would most definitely transform you from a scrawny beast to the most beautiful boy on the continent." Jericho blushed, his ears burning a bright red. Unable to wait any longer, he grabbed his utensils and began eating.

Normally, Jericho would forgo the fork and knife and tear into his food with his bare paws, but, unwilling to upset his master with a barbaric practice, he did his best to mimic Rowan's eating habits. Rowan noticed his pet emulating him and gave him an approving smile. The dinner was uneventful as the pair were content with eating in silence, and when their plates were cleaned off and collected by Ida, they headed back to the study.

Rowan had Jericho kneel in a specific, "proper" pose on a cushion next to him as he finished up the night's work. It took quite a bit of effort for the tod to remain in his position as the warm meal caused him to become drowsy. Hours passed before Rowan packed up his papers and sealed his last envelope. He turned to Jericho who was doing his best not to nod off and scratched his chin. "Good boy," he stated as he stood and stretched. "Let us retire for the night."

Jericho laid on Rowan's spacious, king-sized bed and admired the silk covers while Rowan prepared himself in the other room. The fact that he was allowing his slave-slash-pet onto such delicate furniture continued to boggle his mind. I thought slaves were never treated this well, he said to himself. Rowan stepped through the door completely nude, his toned body quite attractive to the budding homosexual.

Under his arm was a soft towel which he promptly laid onto the bed. He looked at the tod and pointed to it. "Elbows and knees, if you'd please," he sang as he fished through his nightstand. Jericho obeyed, completely aware of what was about to happen. After a few seconds of rifling, he pulled out a small glass bottle filled with a translucent gel. He unstoppered it and poured a healthy amount on his index and middle fingers. He placed the bottle to the side and climbed onto the bed.

"Tail," he commanded. Jericho lifted his tail obediently and prepared himself for what would come next. Rowan brought his dripping fingers to the tod's tailhole and pushed his fingers inside. The virgin sphincter resisted for a moment before finally allowing the digits into uncharted territory. Jericho hissed as his anus was slowly, yet forcibly opened and shivered as the cold lubricant made contact with his insides.

When his fingers were knuckle deep, Rowan began pumping the tod, both distributing the oil and getting Jericho used to being penetrated. Eventually, the fox's discomfort waned as Rowan's experienced fingers pressed in the right spots, sparking a new pleasure within the inexperienced tod. Jericho allowed himself to relax and began trusting the jackal's benevolence. He quietly moaned, causing Rowan to chuckle.

"Enjoying yourself, pet?" Rowan asked. "I'd be surprised if a feminine fox like yourself found this unpleasant."

"Y-yes, master," Jericho replied, his blush reddening his face through his short, soft fur. Rowan chuckled again and ran his free hand down the tod's back, the desert-colored fur flowing between his fingers like silk. His hand made a couple more passes before he decided to advance their encounter. He slowly pulled his fingers free, leaving the tod's tight hole loosened and ready for the main event.

Rowan wiped his hand on the towel and mounted the boy, his seven-inch length already stiff and ready. He lined his member up to Jericho's pucker, grabbed the fox's slender hips for support, and pushed his dick into him. Unlike with his fingers, his penis slid in quite easily and he hilted his entire dick within seconds. Jericho gasped at his hasty entry but forced himself to stay relaxed.

Just as quickly as he entered his toy, Rowan began fucking the little fox. Despite his work loosening and preparing his ass, his hole was still quite snug, not that he was complaining. His virgin innards were like velvet as he ran his cock in and out of the boy; it was the best hole he fucked in ages. He resisted the urge to ruthlessly screw the tod and opted for a more loving embrace to ride out their intercourse as long as possible.

Jericho grimaced and screwed his eyes shut as Rowan had his way with his rump. It wasn't painful for the twink, but the feeling of being penetrated in a hole that was, up to this point, an exit only was alien to him. Regardless, he soon started feeling a growing pressure in his loins. His breathing became heavier and his moans became louder. Growing more and more desperate for release, Jericho silently prayed that his master would grant him those last few seconds of stimulation to achieve his orgasm.

Rowan sneered down at the helpless bitch, all too aware of his plight. He played with the idea of rushing his own orgasm and torturing his slave with denial, but he decided otherwise. Strict, yet kind, he reasoned; he had slaves before and he found that this mentality kept them in line with the least hassle. Shrugging off his sadistic needs, he bent over the fox and tapped his ring against the boy's collar.

The collar grew back to its it's original size and dangled from his neck. Jericho noticed the change his pressure around his neck but his impending release kept his mind occupied. Rowan slid the collar off, exposing his thin neck, and placed it aside. He licked his lips and in a split-second, he bit into Jericho's neck, sinking his fangs into his taut, youthful skin.

A sound halfway between a scream and a whine emanated from Jericho's lips as the shock of being bitten spurred his orgasm. Through his still-flaccid penis shot several ropes of cum, the first small and barely noticeable but the next few firing out with as much pressure as his body could produce. Rowan continued humping him through his release, causing his soft genitals to shake and fling his semen up and down the towel.

The taste of fresh blood and Jericho's rhythmic clenching caused Rowan to dump his nuts into the boy's unsullied innards, caking the walls with a fresh coat of cum. The multitude of sensations and the sweet, metallic taste of the tod's fluids drove Rowan into a frenzy; as he came, his humping intensified, turning the sex from a pleasure-inducing experience to a rigorous, efficient fuck.

Jericho entered his afterglow, his head swimming from the combination of the pleasure and the lack of blood. He collapsed into his mess and his eyes rolled up to the back of his skull. Rowan let go of his neck but kept a firm hold on his hips, keeping his ass elevated and primed for penetration. Jericho laid on the bed seemingly lifeless as the jackal continued to fuck him senseless through the night.