A Familiar Problem
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"You know as well as I do, Sire, the way the petty lords complain when told to pay more, but it's a damn sight better than the way they wail and rant when brigands attack their lands. If we are to deal with these outlaws and keep _their_fiefs safe, we have no choice but to raise their taxes to train and arm more men." The well-dressed boar finished, sounding quite pleased with his reasoning.
"Actually, we do." Piped up an altogether more pleasant voice whose owner wasn't quite convinced.
The speaker reclined on a velvet cushion standing on a pedestal next to the Archon's own seat. Her sleek fur shone like polished mahogany, except for the cream-colored streak along her underside. One might have mistaken the otter for a well-cared for pet if it weren't for the little silk dress covering most of her body, the keen intellect shining from behind her eyes, and of course, the fact that the council of noblemen all paid close attention when she spoke.
"For one..." she began, counting out the numbers on her paws "... we might inquire of the current militia commander why he has had no success dealing with these brigands with the men currently at his disposal, and consider putting a younger, more ambitious man in charge." She spoke, in a subtly patronizing tone.
"Two, we could summon the ambassador from our neighbors to the west and inquire why such lawless bands are allowed to roam their kingdom, crossing the border to raid us before retreating to what is looking more and more like a haven for bandits. We could also mention that if we are forced to deal with this problem alone, we might seek to offset the cost by imposing higher tariffs on their exports." She continued, and most of the assembled nobility nodded in agreement, while the boar who'd spoken earlier scowled and refused to meet her gaze.
"Lastly, we could send someone to infiltrate the brigands. With someone on the inside it would be a simple matter to set up an ambush, wiping them all out with our current compliment of soldiers. So you see, Lord Bollson..." she said, a pleased look gracing her face as the addressed lord was forced to acknowledge her "...we have all of these options before we decide to try and solve the problem by throwing someone else's money at it, if we only take a moment to think about them." She added, clearly implying that he didn't.
"Sire, I protest!" the old boar called out, rising from his seat. "I do not fully understand your relationship with this...thing, nor do I question your right to have it attend these councils, but I have fought duels to avenge smaller insults!" the lord fumed, visibly struggling to maintain some composure in the presence of his liege.
Tinsel was by no means intimidated by the old boar's outburst, sitting on her cushion and looking as pleased as a cat after a bowl of cream. These council meetings could be so dull, but the otter generally found ways to amuse herself, quite often at Bollson's expense.
"Your protest is dully noted, Bolson. Rest assured I will address this matter..." the Archon spoke, casting a displeased look at the diminutive female at his side, to little effect. "Gentlemen, if there are no further matters, this meeting is adjourned." He said in a way that left no doubt that it was, whether there was anything left to discuss, or not. Once they were alone in the council chamber, he turned to the composed otter.
"Would you care to explain why you found it necessary to do that?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Tinsel replied in mock confusion.
"Bollson is not a smart man, and never claimed to be one. What he is, is loyal and dependable, at least to a point. Was it really necessary for you to embarrass him in such a manner before the entire council?" the Duke asked, more annoyed with her than he'd been in a while.
"He embarrassed himself! If Lord Bollson wishes to keep his limited intellect a secret, I would suggest a vow of silence. That way, he'll at least appear to be thinking!"
"And if you kept your tongue still, you would at least appear to be civil." He said, turning his back on the sulking female.
He reflected on how much she'd changed since he'd first seen her. It was over two centuries ago that his fledgling magical abilities had reached a point that he could forge a Conduit, allowing him to tap into truly powerful energies. This power would flow through a bond, a connection he made with a creature he chose as a familiar. Walking along his lands he was considering a likely animal to serve as one when he spied an otter, barely an adult, staring at him from the riverbank.
The young female had a curious look to her, and an almost regal one as she held her head high, a suggestion of intelligence dancing behind her big brown eyes. Feeling her character would complement his own, the wolf cast a small charm so that the creature wouldn't be alarmed by his approach and performed the ritual right then and there.
Tinsel had, in a sense, been born at that moment, and the Archon was certain he'd chosen well. She'd been grateful for the opportunity afforded her, eager to explore her new faculties. There was a time when anyone meeting her would be charmed, at first by her child-like exuberance, and later by her impeccable courtesy and keen wit. It was one of the reasons the Archon had begun to include her in his councils and audiences. She'd had an uncanny way of reducing tensions and dispelling hostilities.
But years passed. Decades. She used to ask the servants nicely to do things for her, making sure to thank them afterwards. She ordered them around now. When did that start? And when exactly had she started wearing clothes? Her own coat, brushed and groomed, used to be enough for her, but now it was silks and satins. He'd asked the castle steward about where the garments had come from, and he'd explained Tinsel had ordered him to fetch a tailor from the town to attend to her. She was projecting such authority these days that it had never occurred to the servant not to obey her wishes.
Vanity, arrogance, malice. She'd learned so much in her life, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised she'd learned that as well. And smugness. She knew she was safe, that he dare not risk harm her. They'd both lived well beyond their allotted years, yet were for all intents and purposes in their respective primes, one of the benefits of the link they shared. That covenant is what kept them alive now, and neither dared endanger it. Still, a plan began to form on how he might deal with his problem. Tinsel had learned so much of humanity, all except humility.
As she began to wake up, Tinsel was puzzled by the sensation of a hard surface beneath her, and wondered briefly if her troubled sleep had led her to roll out of her little bed with its goose-down mattress. She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it as the sun's glare blinded her. She'd told her maid to keep her curtains drawn until she'd had time to wake up properly! Squinting against the glare, the otter realized it wasn't her window the sun was shining through. For one thing it didn't have bars.
Bars! She twisted around realizing she was in a cage, apparently on the table of the council chamber. Her hackles rose at the insult and as she wondered who could possibly have had the audacity to cage her when she spotted the Archon sitting patiently at the head of the table.
"What is the meaning of this!?" she asked indignantly, offended by the wolf's calm posture.
"It occurred to me I've had little involvement in the way you developed over the years. I had not awakened into sentience the way you had, so I thought it best to let you find your own way to grow. Looking back, I can't help but wonder if you would have turned out different with some form of guidance..." he spoke to her in a calm, even voice.
"So you regret not treating me as a child and now chose to treat me like some animal?" she spat back at him with her ears flattened against her skull.
"No, I would not presume to try and teach an animal a lesson, but that is exactly what I intend to do with you."
"Am I to be disciplined then? And for what? An offense to Bollson's impeccable character?" she replied, venom dripping from her sarcastic tone.
"No, that merely caused me to examine your behavior, and realize just how much it has deteriorated. "
"I've changed over the year- no, decades. I've grown!" she replied.
"Actually, I don't think you have, and that is the problem. As ancient as we both are, you still act like a spoiled child. And it occurred to me that years are one thing, but milestones are another. And there is one event in a person's life that is generally considered passage into adulthood. Tell me, haven't you ever wondered why in your two centuries of life, you've never gone into season?"
"I... assumed that after becoming your familiar..." Tinsel began, feeling flustered by the blunt inquiry.
"No, the ritual changed only your mind. You were young when it was performed, yet your body continued to develop normally, leaving you in your physical prime. I had used my magic to spare you your heats. I thought it would be cruel to make you go through them, considering you are unique and couldn't find a suitable mate..." he spoke and Tinsel knew it was true, as the nature of the restless night she'd had became apparent.
"So this is your idea of punishment? Fine then, let my seasons come and go! I'm not some common animal that will whine and rub itself against whatever's available - I have willpower and an intellect!" And more to the point, I'm inventive and very bendy she thought, but didn't feel the need to say that part out loud.
"As for your future heats, we shall see. For this one, I have secured a mate for you." He said, opening a door and conversing with someone she couldn't see.
Tinsel wondered if the wolf had managed to track down another magic user with an otter for a familiar, and a male one at that. The odds would be astronomical, but the idea was not at all unappealing, especially since certain unfamiliar urges seemed to be surfacing the more she pondered the subject. Still, heat or no heat she wouldn't just lift her tail for some strange male like a common animal. She would insist on being wooed, although not necessarily for very long.
All thoughts of courting evaporated as a pair of servants stepped into the room and she noticed two things about the other otter. One was that he was in a cage, just like hers, but unlike her he definitely belonged in his! He was hissing and growling from behind the bars, eyes wild and his fur standing on end.
"It's feral... you can't mean... That's bestiality!" Tinsel cried out, suddenly short of breath as panic set in at the sight of the snarling ball of fur being brought closer and closer to her.
"No, it isn't. You're the same species." The Archon replied, his tone still calm and level.
"But I'm fertile! If he..."
"According to my research, your offspring won't be sentient or as long-lived as you are, lacking the link to higher energies that we share..." the wolf spoke as the other cage was lowered next to hers "But they will be much more intelligent and amenable to training than the more common specimen. Over the years, various nobles had offered me princely sums for just one of your pups, but I never even considered it. Should motherhood fail to improve your disposition, it could at least prove a lucrative business venture." He finished, and although his voice was as cool and measured as ever, Tinsel only now realized just how angry he was at her.
The otter's chest was now visibly swelling with each desperate breath as the reality of her situation set in. Not only did he intend to subject her to a rape from some wild animal, but also to the role of brood-mare to the detestable creature. She'd always known he could never risk truly harming her, but apparently she'd pushed him enough that he'd come up with a loop-hole.
As the servants set about tying their cages together with short lengths of rope, she noticed the male had calmed down somewhat, but wasn't sure if it was an improvement. His fur was still standing on end, but he was now sniffing in her direction, nostrils flaring as his eyes focused on her body with a feral intensity. She had every intention of trying to fight him off, but didn't think much of her chances. Her limbs already felt weak with fear, her stomach queasy at the thought of what was to come and there was something else. No one, or nothing had ever looked at her the way the male was doing now.
Once the two cages had been secured to each other, the servants grabbed a handle on each one and pulled up. The sets of bars separating the two cages were lifted out of their slots and there was now nothing but empty air between her and the feral beast even now advancing cautiously towards her. Tinsel's breath was now shaky, her tail clamped firmly down to cover the part of her she knew the male would be most interested in. Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, the doors to the chamber opened.
The servants departed just before the lords came filing in, taking their seats as if everything was normal. None of them spared her or the feral otter more than a glance as the Archon welcomed them and began the meeting. The terrified female almost wailed at the thought that her impending humiliation would be witnessed by so many, but some stubbornly proud part of her refused to do so. At least they were all dutifully paying attention to their liege rather than focusing on her predicament, although she'd caught Bollson's beady eyes focusing on her as a smug smile of satisfaction spread across his porcine face.
She'd realized she couldn't afford to pay attention to her surroundings once her eyes once again focused on the feral creature she was now sharing a cage with. The male's nostrils were still flaring as he stepped closer to her, and Tinsel gasped at the sight of his red shaft as it emerged from its sheath. Her own nose wrinkled as she was assailed by the male's scent. They couldn't even bother to wash him she thought as she picked up the stench of musk and river-mud still clinging to his fur. After this she'd have the maids working in shifts, scrubbing, soaping and brushing her fur. She didn't care if it took every drop of bath oil and perfume in her collection, she refused to carry this beast's stink on her. Although I'll no doubt wind up carrying something else of his...
She tried to keep her distance from the creature until she felt iron bars at her back and realized he'd backed her into a corner. Oblivious to her distress, the male wasted no time sticking his muzzle beneath her tail, seeking out the source of her scent. Tinsel's eyes shot open at the sensation of his nose against her sex, hissing as she spun in place, clamping her tail down tight as she raked the male's face with one paw. Unfortunately she kept her claws meticulously manicured, so as not to damage the silks, satins and velvets she frequently lounged upon, and as a result her attack did little to deter the male.
Seeing that his partner was fertile but unwilling, the feral creature's attitude changed. His posture became noticeably more aggressive, although judging by the cock slipping out of his sheath, no less amorous. With a growl he actually leapt onto the terrified Tinsel, his claws digging into her soft, lush coat as he tried to get a firm enough hold on her. She writhed underneath him, desperate to break his grip, but the male was larger, fiercer and apparently quite experienced at mating reluctant partners. When she felt sharp teeth fasten on the scruff of her neck, Tinsel froze, her pupils narrowed to pinpricks as her heart beat so fast she thought it might burst.
She could feel the male's breath on her neck, his greasy fur rubbing against her pristine coat, and most of all his hips, bucking as he sought out her hidden entrance. She kept her tail down but she could feel _it_as it rubbed against the fur on her rump, getting closer and closer with every poke and prod. The male had managed to shift her tail out of the way and Tinsel's whole body tensed as she felt his shaft bump fruitlessly against the soft fur surrounding her sex before the beast mounting her managed to find his target.
The loud yelp that was torn from her throat as she was violently penetrated made her the center of attention for a few brief seconds. However, since the Archon hadn't stopped speaking, the assembled nobles quickly turned their attention back to him. As the male's shaft was pushed deeper inside her no longer virgin tunnel, Tinsel wasn't sure if their inattention was a good thing or not. On one side, the fewer eyes witnessing her debasement the better, but she was still hurt that not one voice was raised in her defense. And after she'd had the courtesy to treat them all as if they were her equals!
"AaaAAAah!" she cried out, as the feral otter gave another brutal shove. She felt him hit something inside her and it hurt so much it knocked the wind out of her. She tried to struggle, to at least attempt to dislodge him, but to little avail. She felt tears leave her eyes as her poor little cunny was forced to stretch around the shaft violating her. The closest thing to pain Tinsel had felt in centuries was a brush snagging a tangled patch of fur, and she'd always reprimanded any servant so clumsy as to let that happen! The sensation of the male's boned cock forcing its way inside her made her forget about his claws against her skin and the teeth clamped on the scruff of her neck.
The beast let out a low growl before starting to pump his shaft in and out of Tinsel's stretched orifice. He gave a murr of satisfaction and began to rut his unwilling mate at a steady pace, unmoved by the females whimpering. Tinsel had barely gotten used to having that _thing_buried inside her when the brute on her back began to piston it in and out.
The female otter wasn't ignorant about sex. In her younger years the curious little Tinsel had snuck around the castle and on numerous occasions had spotted some of the more promiscuous serving girls slipping away somewhere secluded with a man. The ridiculous faces and noises made by mating humans gave her the impression that sex was quite enjoyable, and even though her experimental touches and licks of her own fuzzy flower had felt nice, she never understood what all the fuss was about.
But as painful as her rutting was, Tinsel was aghast to discover a strange sensation building in her loins. It was almost... pleasant? Disgusted with herself for even thinking that, she pushed the idea out of her mind. Bad enough she had to endure this savage rape, and in public no less, but she was damned if she'd act like some sort of bitch in heat, moaning whorishly as she was rutted by a common animal!
She clenched her jaw, telling herself that she did so in an effort endure this stoically. In truth, the otter didn't trust the sounds trying to make their way out her muzzle. The pain from the shaft sliding wetly in and out of her sore quim was getting... bearable... and as long as she stayed in control there was still a chance of her preserving some of her dignity. She'd prove to her 'master' that she couldn't be whipped into line like some pet.
But as the pain receded that abominable sensation of warmth and fullness was getting harder to ignore. The sounds coming from behind her were now disgustingly wet, and she was aware that the male was... ugh, leaking inside her. She was still unwilling to even consider the possibility that some of the fluids were her own, that her sex was betraying her by accommodating her rapist. But there was something building up inside her, clouding her mind more than fear of her assailant did.
Tinsel felt a panic grip her at the thought that she might lose control, barking and yelping in delight as she was bred against her will, and in front of everyone. True, the assembled nobility pretended not to notice anything, but she felt a glance land on her every now and then. Bollson was the only one not concerned to be seen paying more attention to her than to matters of state, still looking insufferably smug. After all, watching a smelly, mindless male force himself on an unwilling female with the intent of breeding her must bring back fond memories of the night his marriage was consummated, and Tinsel almost made the mistake of opening her mouth to say just that. As luck would have it, her jaw remained clenched as the shaft inside her hit a sensitive spot, and she was certain the mewl she let out could easily be mistaken for a cry of pain.
The female found herself almost missing the agony of her initial penetration as the damnable pleasure built, her own body betraying her by embracing the degradation forced upon her. She felt disgusted with herself for just lying there and meekly taking the male's shaft, and in a fit of defiance she tried to wrench herself from his grip, twisting her body wildly with every ounce of strength she had left. But the male had not been fooled by her earlier submission, and as she thrashed futilely beneath him he only tightened his grip, claws and teeth digging painfully into her flesh as he continued his savage humping.
Tinsel had at least hoped the pain from the male's teeth and claws as he reasserted his dominance would drive the haze of shameful lust from her brain, but it proved as effective as trying to douse a flame with oil. As the male's pace increased, his hips a blur as he pounded her poor rump, the female had opened her mouth to let out a shriek of agony, only to release an embarrassing bark that didn't sound particularly pained. Worse yet her muzzle remained open, her tongue lolling from her mouth as her eyes glazed over. She tried to lower her head, desperate to hide her face, but the male's grip on her neck kept it pointed straight ahead.
Why did it have to feel so... good? Her gentle efforts with claw and tongue had produced only pleasant tingles, yet her body responded to this bestial mating with mind-numbing ecstasy. It must be the heat she decided. It was like some sort of insanity, her body willing to accept anything done to it as long as her cunny was being penetrated. Even when the male had tightened his painful grip on her the first thought in her head was that at least such a strong mate would give her healthy pups.
Her eyes shot open, panic visible in them even through the haze of lust as she was reminded of her fate. He would surely finish soon (it seemed like forever since he first mounted her already!), and once he flooded her fertile womb that would be it. Her slim belly would swell with his spawn and in a couple of months she'd have a litter of practically feral pups nipping and biting at her swollen teats! And in her demented state, it was getting harder to think of that image as revolting. If only he'd picked the wrong hole she thought. As embarrassing and painful as her buggering would no doubt have been, it wouldn't have left her pregnant!
With every stroke of the male's shaft past her abused folds it was getting harder and harder to think. The room around her melted away as her eyes lost focus, her ears barely registering the voices of the councilors, yet easily picking up the lewd smacks of the male's hips against her rear, and the pathetic mewling coming from her slack-jawed muzzle. She could almost see that rosy shaft, its slick length disappearing inside her with every hump, the soft fur around her ravished cunny matted from the juices leaking from it.
All the while the beast on top of her kept making low growls, his grip never softening as he kept her pinned beneath him, as if she had anywhere to run. Through the fog of lust, a strange thought suddenly presented itself to Tinsel. The Archon wanted her like this - huddled in pain and humiliation, suitably chastised for her perceived offense. She should embrace this sickening pleasure. If she appeared to enjoy her breeding, it will look like he'd just given her something she wanted, and she'd be the victor.
The idea took root before Tinsel could even consider it. She'd moved her tail aside and thrust her rear out, giving the male breeding her unfettered access as she let go of all restraint. She didn't mind the feral noises coming from her mouth, or the expression of stupefying delight plastered across her face. Nothing mattered now but that hard cock pistoning in and out of her soaked slit, bottoming out every time her mate sheathed himself.
The feral male took every advantage of his mate's sudden acquiescence, his hips a blur as he prepared to seed her. His shaft was barely leaving her snug little box now and Tinsel could feel herself drool as her mind bubbled. Nothing in her life had felt as good as this, and the pleasure was still mounting. Let them watch and let them listen, but I will open their veins if they try to drag him off me! she thought, and for a moment she felt like a part of her was appalled by the notion.
Her mate gave another growl and bit her scruff even harder, but Tinsel was past feeling pain. Her eyes opened wide, staring at nothing as she panted, chest rising and falling visibly as the male's tip ground against the opening to her womb. A split second later the first gush of fertile otter cum was pumped into her stuffed quim and Tinsel mewled as something washed over her. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl, letting her experience every pulse of the male's cock as her cunny milked him, dutifully drawing every drop of his seed deeper inside her quivering body.
Tinsel writhed in her mate's grip, although there was no thought of escaping this time. Her claws dug furrows in the wooden floor of her cage as she experienced her first climax. Her pussy was still twitching around the throbbing shaft buried in its depths as the male ground his crotch against her rear, the still leaking tip of his cock nudging against her cervix each time he did. She couldn't believe she'd ever considered that marvelous shaft an intrusion, let alone a painful one. The warm, hard member felt so natural inside her, like it was a part of her she didn't even know she was missing...
But as the male dismounted her, his cock slipping out of her well-bred cunny to retreat back into its sheath, the spell keeping Tinsel docile and sated was broken. A part of her felt a sense of loss and emptiness, and wanted nothing more than to be filled again, but it was easier for the female to push it aside now that reason began to reassert itself. Looking around her she noticed that the assembled nobles still seemed to be paying attention to the business at hand, but she noticed they now all wore subtle smirks, smug and amused. As she remembered the way she'd behaved the otter felt sick, knowing she must have given them all quite a show, panting and mewling like an animal in season, deliriously happy to be bred.
That thought made her aware of the still warm seed slowly oozing from her messy sex. Worse yet, she could feel a lot more of the slime still inside her, sealing her fate for several months. The male that had violated her had growled a little as servants came to put him back in his cage, but didn't really put up a struggle. Tinsel remained huddled in her corner, and was grateful when men came to bear her cage away as well, eager to be free from prying eyes. As she was lifted away, she pressed her tail lightly against her soiled sex, convincing herself that she did it to hide her shame, rather than keep the male's seed inside her...