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Chakkir's Rest, Chapter 3

A familiar white mouse was just walking out of Owren's inn room when Khendar stepped cautiously into the hallway the next morning. Her hair was tousled, but her elegant red dress didn't look at all slept in. She had a satisfied sway to her steps as she passed the buck, and she shot him a coy wink just before heading down the steps to the inn's common room.

Khendar was still blinking at the top of the stairs when Owren's door swung open again, and for a moment the deer forgot why he'd been hoping to avoid Owren that morning. He turned to see the old horse looking at him, and when their eyes met, Khendar lifted his eyebrows with a pointed smirk. "Someone must have had a nice night," the deer said, trying his best not to give in to an outright grin.

Owren didn't look embarrassed at all, though. For some reason, he just looked confused. He wasn't meeting Khendar's eyes anymore, but instead was looking lower down on the whitetail's body.

Oh. Right.

The deer cleared his throat, folding his arms across his chest, which forced them to prop up on top of his overfilled belly. His tail flicked in abrupt embarrassment, and he was suddenly reminded of the plug underneath it, keeping all the fluids in his belly contained. After sleeping all night with that in, he barely noticed it anymore. At least, not unless he took a step. Or shifted his weight. "Well?" Khendar said, trying to distract the stallion from his bloated appearance. "A beautiful mouse just walked out of your room, looking all disheveled and proud of herself. Come on, Owren, you can't just pretend nothing happened."

Evidently, Owren could do just that. "Where did you get those clothes?" the older horse asked, ignoring the more obvious question.

Khendar was still wearing Gehart's shirt, tunic, and trousers, his own clothing now far too tight to fit him. "A friend gave them to me," he said offhandedly, shrugging and trying to divert the horse again by pointing a thumb over his shoulder toward the stairs. "So, you and she seem to have hit it off since our welcome dinner. What's her name?"

Owren wasn't taking the bait, though at least he didn't ask any more about Khendar's outfit or...condition. "These people aren't our friends, Khen. They aren't even really people. You need to be more careful around them."

The deer's eyebrows lifted again. "I need to be more careful?"

The stallion folded his own, thicker arms. "Fine. We both do. Look, I didn't want to tell you when I first began to suspect, as I didn't want to alarm you or the others. You won't have noticed; the differences are very subtle. But the townsfolk in Chakkir's Rest aren't...like the rest of us, Khendar."

Oh, Khendar wouldn't have noticed, would he? The whitetail frowned, tilting his head and glancing at the horse from the corner of his eye, feigning ignorance. "What do you mean?"

"They're not mortal, Khen. Not completely." The stallion took a few strides to the top of the stairs, looking down them and lowering his voice. "Listen to me. I won't blame you for not believing me, but pay close attention to their eyes when they don't know you're looking, and you'll see a difference. A spark of colors in the pupil that shouldn't be there, a reflection that's slightly off..." He looked toward the stairs again, and his voice grew subdued. "A shadow that clouds over the pupil like ripples in a pond..."

Well, that was awfully specific. Shrugging again, Khendar started heading for those stairs, meaning to head down and find some breakfast, even though he wasn't at all hungry that morning. "You're sounding even more paranoid than usual, Owren," he said, though he'd noticed the strangeness in the townsfolk's eyes on their first night in Chakkir's Rest.

A broad hand closed over the deer's shoulder and jerked him to a stop. "And you're not paying attention, Khen. As usual. Listen to me. These are demi-mortals we're dealing with. Demons, or near enough to make no difference. I know that stag, Gehart, has been trying to draw you in, but you cannot allow yourself to get too close to him, to any of them. They are dangerous to be around in general, and many draw their powers from feeding off of lust, both yours and their own. If they get a chance to be intimate with you..."

"What, like your mousette?" Khendar shook himself free of the horse's hand, rolling his eyes. "Maybe you should listen to your own sermons before you start preaching, Owren."

"Khendar, you don't know the dangers--"

"I can make my own decisions, Owren. Maybe even better than you can. Gehart--"

Khendar was interrupted by someone clearing his throat from the steps behind him. The deer spun around, ears pinning back as his heart skipped a beat. He hadn't heard any footsteps at all!

"Apologies for interrupting," a tall cheetah said from a few steps down, nodding politely to both of the other males in the hallway. "But I bring word from Master Gehart for one...Master Owren?" He looked back and forth between the deer and the stallion, though surely by now everyone in town knew who the leader of the trade caravan was.

Owren just folded his arms and frowned at the spotted feline, very nearly scowling. "What word?"

The cheetah's smile completely brushed off the horse's gruffness. "I believe the two of you discussed meeting today for further trade negotiations. I was told to escort you to the meeting this morning, once you are ready to leave. Breakfast and drinks will be provided, of course."

"We have all we need for our breakfasts in our provision wagon. You can return to Gehart and tell him I'll meet with him later this morning after I've eaten, perhaps this afternoon."

Khendar rolled his eyes, his hooves already clomping down the stairs. He had to squeeze up against the wall to avoid brushing his overfilled belly against the cheetah. "Oh, come off it, Owren. Why turn down a free meal?"

He heard an aggravated huff behind him, but heavier hooffalls followed in his wake, the cheetah turning and walking down the stairs between them without a word. "Very well," Owren said, terse and overly formal. "This once, I'll defer to young Master Khendar's expert opinion. Might as well get this over with." That last was grumbled under his breath.

"Great!" Khendar said, exaggeratedly cheerful. "I'll leave you to deal with all the nitty gritty business, then. For some reason, I'm not all that hungry this morning."

"No, Khen. I'm not letting you out of my sight today." Owren's longer strides carried him in front of the deer by the time they reached the inn's front door, and he held it open for Khendar and the messenger cheetah.

The yellow feline smiled politely again at the deer as they stepped outside, and for a brief instant, their eyes met. The rising sun should have been reflecting off the top half of the cheetah's pupil, but instead Khendar got a glimpse of a shimmering crescent moon in its place.

Khen gave himself a shake as he followed the other two into the bazaar outside. He really shouldn't have let himself get taken aback, now that he knew just who and what the townsfolk were, but that sort of thing would probably always make him do a double take, hints of distortions he wasn't certain he'd really seen.

The bazaar was bustling, business going quite well for so early in the day. The cheetah led them toward a side street between two rows of stalls and wagons and merchandise carts set up along one corner of the square. "Khendar, keep up!" Owren called back after him. The deer had lagged behind to look over a new woven rug draped over the side of a familiar merchant's stall. Mistress Stalsha must have set up her loom the moment they'd arrived in town, but that was no surprise. It was a wonder the old squirrel didn't make her assistants assemble the bulky contraption every night they made camp on the road.

Owren and the cheetah were turning away from the bazaar, and Khendar hastened to catch up to them, but he hadn't gone two steps before a familiar red panda gave him a friendly wave. It was the minstrel from the feast on their first night in Chakkir's Rest. "Good morning, Master Khendar," he said around a breakfast sausage on a stick. The caravan's cook must have set up his grill. "How are you doing today?" The panda didn't seem at all taken aback by how swollen the buck's middle had become.

"Oh, doing wonderful! Sorry, I was just..." Khendar paused, this time deliberately meeting the red panda's eyes. Nothing seemed at all out of place, at first, but then a breeze tinkled the wind chimes another merchant had on display in front of his cart, and a ripple of faint, pale green color shivered across the bard's pupils.

The panda tilted his head. "You were just...?"

Once again, the buck had to shake himself out of his surprise. "Right! Just, um, headed this way. Sorry!" Blinking and shaking his head, Khendar strode off toward the street Owren and the cheetah had turned onto.

He made it halfway down the block before he looked up and realized that neither of the others were anywhere to be seen. The road was far from deserted, early risers making their way to and from the bazaar and calmly going about their days, but none of them was a big, grumpy horse. Owren and his guide must have already reached the next street down. Khendar had been more distracted than he realized.

Only, when he bustled ahead and reached that intersection, Owren was still nowhere to be seen, down the street in either direction. Neither was the cheetah. Could they have reached yet another side street? Khendar hadn't fallen that far behind, had he?

He almost jumped out of his skin when a familiar voice behind him said, "You look lost, Master Khendar." The deer felt his abdomen wobble as he spun around, holding his arms around it to steady the sloshing fluids inside. Gehart was strolling up to him from one of the streets he'd just looked down. Where had the older stag come from?

"Gehart! I was just...just looking for Owren." Now why should he feel guilty all of a sudden? It wasn't like he'd gone out looking for Gehart deliberately. That wouldn't stop Owren from lecturing him once he caught up with the horse, though. "We were heading for the meeting you wanted to set up, but somehow I lost track of him."

Gehart just smiled, slipping an arm around the younger buck's shoulders and steering him down one of the narrower roads, giving a friendly nod to several of the other villagers walking the other way. "Well then, fortunate that you and I should cross paths, isn't it? I was just heading the same way. Maybe we'll catch up to him before he arrives."

"I guess that makes sense." Owren would throw a fit when Khendar walked up to the meeting right beside Gehart, but the horse could deal with it. The deer wasn't the one who had hurried off and left Owren behind, after all. Besides, it felt nice having the older deer's arm tucked around him, holding the two of them pressed up against each other softly while they walked.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Gehart asked, casually turning them into a side street barely broader than an alleyway. Laundry was slung along strings hung between the buildings on either side of the road.

Khendar's ears flicked back. He'd had dreams of what they'd done the day before, of what had happened to Bunt, and even now he thought he could smell hints of apple cider in his fur. He didn't mention any of that, though, instead just nodding and saying, "Well enough," and hoping his blush wasn't visible underneath his fur.

Gehart didn't draw any attention to Khen's embarrassment, if he noticed. "Good! I know I slept better than I have in ages. Must have worn myself out somehow." He grinned at the other buck from the corner of his eye, a playful smirk, and Khendar managed a quiet chuckle.

Khendar wasn't uncomfortable, exactly. Rather, he was struck by just how at ease he actually was, his short tail flicking behind him as Gehart led them into another, busier street, turning once again. "I can't imagine what you could have done," he murmured quietly, giving the older deer a gentle bump with his hip. Or at least, he tried to. His rounded belly bounced off the other stag's gut first, making Khendar blush all over again. He still wasn't used to compensating for all that extra fluid weight.

"Or who!" Gehart countered cheerfully. Then, with people all around, some from Khendar's own caravan, he slipped his hand down and gave the younger deer's rump a firm, shameless squeeze.

Khendar gasped, his tail shooting straight up, and glanced around the street nervously, hoping no one he knew had noticed. "G-Gehart... Spirits, it's like you're trying to prove Owren right."

Gehart tilted his head, though he didn't move his palm away from Khendar's backside, letting himself feel the other male's bottom shift and flex as they kept walking. "Right about what?"

"Well, you know..." Khendar shrugged a shoulder, trying not to make a big deal about it. It wasn't easy to sound casual about something so unnatural, though. "He seems to think everyone in Chakkir's Rest is some kind of sexual vampire, feeding off of the lust of virile and vulnerable hunks like me."

The look Gehart gave him then was a little more guarded. "Like incubi and succubi?"

"Uh... Sure?" Khendar replied. The older buck was quiet for a while, his pace slowing slightly, and Khendar glanced over at him, lifting an eyebrow. "So... Are you? I mean, I know you're different and all, but are you really, you know...?"

"Demi-mortals, as I told you yesterday," Gehart said, staring straight ahead as they walked. His posture looked stiffer than it had before. "We in Chakkir's Rest are the bastard offspring of mortals and deities, Khendar. That is how we are different."

The younger deer remembered what Gehart had told him the day before, but he still couldn't quite believe it. He looked the other male up and down as if he would be able to see the stag glowing with some sort of divine or demonic aura, but Gehart was still just Gehart, calm and stout and from all appearances completely normal. But that was only because Khendar wasn't looking him in the eyes. "Then do you really feed off of other people's lust, like Owren said?"

"Khen, you must understand something. Rumors about my kind are as widespread and varied as your imagination can come up with. Some scant few tidbits have grains of truth in them, but most of all that hearsay..." Gehart shook his head, frowning. A pair of lynx townsfolk walked past, probably a husband and wife, and gave the two cervines a friendly wave. Gehart didn't seem to notice, and the lynxes shared a glance before continuing on. "Slander, Khendar," Gehart finally said. "Slander, or outright fearmongering."

Khendar looked down at the dirt road in front of his hooves. "I didn't mean to--"

"Oh, it's not your fault," Gehart went on with an aggravated huff. "It's not Master Owren's fault, either. You can only judge by what you've heard, and news only spreads about the worst of us. We have powers, oftentimes, and some take undue advantage of their gifts, but the vast, overwhelming majority of demi-mortals, you never hear about at all. We live quiet lives." He finally looked Khendar's way, and the younger deer caught his reflection in Gehart's eyes. Walking next to the older stag, it looked like Khendar was striding in the opposite direction in the mirrors of those pupils. "We're a peaceful people, Khendar. We have to be. Outside of this town and a few other havens, if our nature was made known, we would be hunted down and slaughtered. There might not be any warrants or royal edicts calling for our execution, but no matter what nation you're in, if a demi-mortal is found murdered, law enforcement will proclaim it an unfortunate accident. Why waste resources finding who put down the child of a devil?"

"I don't think you're the child of a devil," Khendar cut in. "If you were demon spawn, your face wouldn't be nearly so handsome." That brought Gehart up short, and the older stag looked at him quizzically until Khendar gave him an innocent smile. "Do we turn right or left here?" They'd reached a Y intersection, with a small fountain in the middle.

After a moment, Gehart returned the smile, his mood quickly recovering. "This way," he said with a quiet chuckle, guiding Khendar down the right fork with his hand still on the other male's butt. He hadn't moved his palm away from Khendar's trousers the entire time.

This new road ended in a spacious cobblestone courtyard shared by five or six houses. They looked like residences, but Gehart led them up to the door of the second one on the right and strolled right in without knocking. Inside was a small foyer with an older female owl sitting behind a desk, a little heavyset, if not quite as big around as either of the two stags. "Master Gehart," the owl said with a polite nod. "You are the first to arrive, but your room is ready for you."

She glanced toward a door to one side, and Gehart guided Khendar into the meeting room with a warm, "Thank you, Lura."

"I'm surprised Owren didn't beat us here," Khendar said while looking around the cozy room. There was a table in the middle, with eight comfortably padded chairs arranged around it, three to either side and one at each end. The walls were all a dark wood paneling, and several strikingly realistic landscape paintings were set at eye level, like windows into different countries.

"Oh, he and Bailim will likely be another ten minutes or so," Gehart told him, finally letting go of Khendar's bottom, though he didn't move away at all. Bailim must have been the cheetah that Gehart had sent as a guide.

"Ten minutes? Why so long?"

Gehart shrugged with an embarrassed grimace. "The initial negotiation room had already been claimed by someone else, I'm afraid, so I had to change venues at the last moment, and didn't have time to let Bailim know about the change. I was hoping to catch them on their way there, but they'll find out once they arrive at the original location, and will be on their way here shortly." He gave his head a small shake with a wry smirk. "I should have made a reservation."

"Wait," Khendar said, lifting an eyebrow. "You need to make reservations?" He lifted a hand to fiddle with the laces on the other buck's tunic, grinning and scritching at Gehart's chest between them.

"Well, I could have thrown my authority around and had the others moved to a different building, but there was no real need." Gehart grinned back, holding the other deer by the swollen waist and sounding ironic as he added, "Besides, it just wouldn't do to play by a different set of rules as everyone else."

Khendar let his other hand drift across the expanse of Gehart's belly, straight down between the stag's legs to give the considerable bulge there a fondle. The younger male's face flushed at his own boldness, but he couldn't seem to hold himself back when he was around Gehart. "So, we have a little bit of time to kill, it sounds like."

He almost jumped out of his pelt when Lura walked right into the room beside them. Gehart didn't let the other deer move away at all, though, and the old owl attendant took the sight of them practically pressed up against each other completely in stride. "Can I get you two any refreshments while you wait?" she asked.

"No thank you, Lura," Gehart replied casually, one hand slipping down to give Khendar's rump another very firm, very shameless squeeze. "Though if you would be so kind, please wait outside, and don't admit anyone to our room until I tell you to."

"As you say, Master Gehart," the owl said diplomatically. Khendar was watching her from the corner of his eye, though, unable to bring himself to look at her directly with the other stag's hands exploring his body, and he thought he saw the corner of her beak smirk just as she was turning back to her desk in the foyer.

She closed the door behind her, and with a deep, lusty rumble, Gehart lifted Khendar's arms and swept the younger buck's shirt off his shoulders. Strong hands spun Khendar around and guided him to one end of the table, Gehart's bulk pressed against his back with every step. The older stag leaned in to nibble sensuously at Khendar's earlobe before scooting the chair aside with one hoof and slowly, firmly bending the other deer over the table's edge.

By now, Khendar was sure his face was practically glowing, but he didn't stop Gehart when the half-mortal tucked his thumbs under Khendar's waistband and peeled the younger buck's trousers down past his hips. Khendar just braced his elbows at his sides, taking some of the weight off of his overfilled belly. The way his weight pressed down on his rounded gut made him blush even more, the sides of that dome squishing out against his arms, and he could feel the warm, sticky fluids inside sloshing around from all the motion.

Then he forgot all about his belly, because Gehart was slowly but steadily wiggling the smooth plug free from underneath Khendar's tail. A gasp and an instinctive clench drew it back in to the base, but the stag behind him just chuckled and set about the task again, and Khendar took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and trying his best to relax. This time, the plug spread him open enough to plop out with a wet splurt, and Khendar's ears tucked back in mortification when he heard a few wet plats hit his pants, dribbles of bottled up semen already leaking and glazing his taint and balls to splatter between his legs.

An instant later, though, Gehart's broad nose was squeezing between his rump cheeks, and a warm gust of breath teased right underneath his tail. That tail shot straight up as Gehart let out an approving moan, and Khendar's eyes went wide when he felt the other male's tongue drag from his curved taint upward, straight over his leaking tailhole. With a pair of unsteady clops against the polished wooden floor, Khendar spread his legs as much as the trousers tangled around his knees would allow, and rolled his eyes upward with an eager groan as Gehart, just as eagerly, began lapping and licking between the other deer's rear cheeks.

Khendar tried to look back, but all he could see of the other buck was Gehart's antlers, jutting out behind the jiggling swell of Khendar's belly. He was sore back there after the vigorous rutting the day before, but sore in a good way, and being eaten out made for such a decadent massage. He relaxed against Gehart's tongue, feeling the other stag clean the pearly fluids that escaped Khendar's quivering backside, and went so far as to reach back and grasp his buttocks in his own hands, spreading himself further for the other stag.

Gehart kept it up until Khendar felt like he was melting against the tabletop, his entire body going limp as he drew in deep breaths and pushed his hindquarters backward against the older buck's face. Khendar's member was fully unsheathed and erect, tucked down against the edge of the table. The rim job only lasted two or three minutes, maybe a little more, and that wasn't enough for Khendar's liking, but he still smiled gratefully back at the other deer as Gehart stood up behind him again, his muzzle a matted-down mess.

Gehart grinned, dragging a broad fingertip in a line up over Khendar's taint and pucker. "Well, it doesn't look like you'll be needing any extra lube," the demi-mortal said, reaching forward with that finger and smearing it over two tips of Khendar's antlers. It left a slimy bridge of cervine cum between them, just visible when Khendar looked up past his eyebrows and swaying around each time he moved his head.

There was a brief shuffling from behind him, then his breath hitched when he felt Gehart's arousal nestled between his cheeks, hotdogging slowly up and down in the warm valley underneath Khendar's tail. "G-Gehart," he stammered, glancing toward the room's closed door and picturing the matronly owl sitting right on the other side of it. "Do we really have time for this?"

The older stag's firm, rounded tip wedged up right into the center of Khendar's dimpled entrance, and Gehart leaned on top of him, the demi-mortal's girth pressing Khendar's body even more firmly down over his own expanded belly. He could feel a short squirt of the other male's cum escape his backside before he managed to clench down. Then Gehart's lips were on his earlobe again, nibbling and whispering an ornery, "Probably not," in the same instant that he started to push forward with his hips.

Khendar gasped, his back arching, and after a moment's tension underneath his tail, he felt his hind muscles relent and let Gehart's crown wedge itself inside of him, once again plugging the fluids trying to leak free through his back passage. He tried to tell himself that Gehart was just joking, but it was hard to think about anything at all except the firm, heated phallus gradually squeezing deeper and deeper inside him. It was a slow and careful insertion, but before long he felt the other male's thighs against his lifted bottom, Gehart's lap pressing down and forward to compress Khendar's belly against the table even more.

Khendar should probably have stopped things there. He could have told Gehart to pull out, that they could continue later when they had more time to enjoy things at their leisure. But instead, with Gehart just holding himself motionless inside him, still aside from the throbbing of his embedded cock, Khendar was the one who started gyrating his hips, pressing his round butt back against the other male's lap before easing it forward slightly, getting a sliver of an inch of Gehart's shaft to slide in and out of him. Moaning, Khendar only stopped those motions when Gehart began his own, the older buck chuckling and murmuring, "Good boy," while he started to thrust. He gave just two slow and gentle lunges before taking a deep breath and beginning to hump Khendar vigorously, making the younger male's vision swim with helpless arousal.

The older stag was breeding him in the exact same position as he had the day before, but this time Khendar didn't have a bloated bull's crotch in front of him to distract him from the heat filling his backside. The friction was uncomfortable at first, but it was that satisfying discomfort that always preceded a deeper, lustful burn, and that was what coursed through him now. He covered his mouth after an embarrassing bleat, but Gehart leaned in over the younger buck, taking both of Khendar's wrists and pinning them against his sides. Gehart kept a firm hold on those wrists and pulled, and the other deer stared at the wall across from him, gasping and arching his back as all control of their rutting was taken from him.

Gods, how he loved it.

His ears flushed at the way he was bouncing on the table's edge, his belly sloshing so much, he could feel the day-old fluids inside turning into a slimy, slow-motion whirlpool. Gehart kept his arms pinned firmly against the sides of his abdomen, so he could feel the way his overfilled gut jiggled from the outside, as well, right against his elbows. Khendar's shaft throbbed, eager, desperate, but he barely even noticed it, the prostate behind it getting far more stimulation.

Already, he could feel just how close Gehart was getting, too. The older stag was breathing heavily, slamming himself forward and smacking his balls against Khendar's own sack with each thrust. The table's legs scuffed loudly against the wooden floor. Knowing what was coming, Khendar pushed his hips back against the next thrust and squeezed as hard as he could with his ass. The other stag smashed his lap forward and held himself there, but didn't quite release, somehow able to hold himself on the brink.

Then Khendar's eyes whipped toward the meeting room's door when he heard Owren's voice on the other side.

"...Given him plenty of time to prepare, after marching all over the entire town. What does that even mean? Is he setting out a fancy tablecloth or something?"

The attendant outside said something that Khendar couldn't understand, and on top of him, Gehart just chuckled. "Or something..." the dominant buck groaned. He gave a firm nudge with his hips.

Shaking his head, Khendar tried to squirm over to one side, enough to pull himself out from under the other deer, but Gehart still had ahold of his wrists, and wasn't letting him go anywhere. "Gehart, we...we have to..."

"Easy, now. I'm almost... Ah, there..." After one more slow and deliberate thrust forward, Gehart hilted himself, and Khendar could feel the older stag's shaft quiver inside him just before releasing a long gush of heated semen. Gehart was cumming inside him, with Owren growing more and more impatient outside their room.

The torrent being unleashed inside of Khendar was audible, his belly gurgling with the sticky fluids getting stirred up inside of him. Just above that rush, he could hear the owl attendant outside say, "I must insist you calm yourself, good sir. Patience. Master Gehart will be ready for you shortly, I'm sure."

Khendar felt a familiar tension in his hide, and he could feel his abdomen billow outward against his pinned arms.

"He's got thirty seconds," Owren's voice came from the other side of the door.

Inside Khendar's head, he started counting. Only he couldn't seem to get past seven before he forgot why he was counting in the first place, the strain and heat inside him overwhelming conscious thought.

"Gods, yes," Gehart grunted behind him, standing up straight so that he could watch the younger buck balloon outward. "Nnf. You're all right, Khendar. Just grow for me." When Khendar coughed out a small splatter of semen that had filled him all the way to his mouth, Gehart let go of one wrist to reach forward and wrap his fingers around Khendar's muzzle instead. "Keep it all in for me, Khen. You'll be fine, I promise. Everything's going to be all right, just. Hmf!" He gave his hips a forceful shove, and Khendar's entire body jiggled. "Just...keep on swelling up..."

Khendar clenched his eyes shut. He could feel cum leaking from his nostrils, but after a couple gulps, he managed to hold the rest back. There was more than one kind of pressure welling up inside of him, though, and he tensed the few muscles he was able, hooves scraping against the floor as he tried to repress one of those rising tensions.

Owren's voice came from past the door again. "That's enough. I've had enough of this deer's games."

Gehart leaned in briefly, just long enough to kiss the back of Khendar's ear. Then he stood again and raised his voice. "It's okay, Lura. Let him in."

Khendar's eyes shot open wide, and he tried to let out a panicked, "What?" but had to gulp back more cum before a sound could escape him. Worse, just as his heart skipped a beat and the door swung open, he felt his balls draw up between his thighs, and as Gehart used his hold on the younger deer's muzzle to turn Khendar's head toward the stallion striding in, Khendar had the most powerful orgasm of his life.

Owren met his eyes, the horse's mouth agape in shock. Khendar moaned, holding the stallion's gaze through the first three spurts of his climax, then letting his eyes roll back in helpless ecstasy. It was all too much. As if the growing pressure in his gut was pushing it out, his own cum sprayed underneath the table, painting long stripes against the bottom of the tabletop and over the floor. He swore he was about to pass out, but then he remembered how to breathe, and his eyes started to focus again when he felt Gehart release his muzzle to pet slowly down the middle of Khendar's back. Slowly, and a touch possessively.

As before, Khendar's orgasm didn't last nearly as long as Gehart's. After the younger deer slumped into a hazy, disoriented afterglow, Gehart was still pumping him impossibly full of demi-mortal seed.

Owren was stunned speechless for a few more seconds, but finally turned his attention to the rotund buck locked lap-to-ass with Khendar. "Let him go," Owren said, his voice a dangerous, quiet rumble. "Now."

When more cum dribbled over his lip, Khendar covered his mouth with his own palm, gulping it back desperately. Gehart's hand had just reached his tail, and as it caressed past its tip, that touch left Khendar's short tail flagged dramatically upward. The older buck's palm settled on one of the younger's rear cheeks, kneading gently at the fur there, but Gehart made no move to pull away from Khendar's hips, still gushing rope after rope of cum inside the helpless deer. The older stag only responded to Owren's demand with a silent, lifted eyebrow.

The entire time, Khendar felt his whole body stretching with the slime filling him. Not just his belly. His entire body. It shouldn't have been possible, but what about this was? He didn't think his belly had sprung a leak, exactly, but somehow as it reached its limit, Gehart's excess cum began oozing outward from Khendar's middle, as if his stomach had grown supernaturally porous. He could feel it filling his chest, seeping around his organs and muscles, and then into them. His pectorals and abs grew incredibly warm and softened underneath him, his shoulders and biceps soon following suit, and he could feel his buttocks plumping further, expanding and stretching his fluffy hide outward in twin, juicy spheres. His thighs and calves were saturated with semen soon after, and as he felt his fingers begin to grow swollen, Khendar could also feel his face begin to plump out, the flesh of his very muzzle under his palm growing puffy and squishy. Gods. Gods! He could feel it in his triangular earlobes!

The deer found himself locking stares with Owren again, so overwhelmed he couldn't bring himself to look away despite his embarrassment. He felt an unexpected tear roll down the side of his thickening face, though he wasn't that embarrassed. Not quite, anyway. When he blinked, he realized it was Gehart's semen dribbling down across Khendar's muzzle, his tear glands beginning to leak.

"That's it!" Owren snarled, tossing his mane and taking a step toward Gehart. "You pull out of him right now, or I swear, I will break off your antlers and use them to give you a vasectomy."

Gehart did draw back his hips by a few inches, but only so that he could enjoy a slow, luxurious thrust back into Khendar's warmth, once again flattening the swelling bubbles of the younger stag's ass cheeks. When Owren took a threatening step toward the two deer, Gehart just held up a finger with his free hand, still fondling Khendar's rump with the other. He gave the flesh of the younger buck's bottom a small squeeze, letting Owren see Gehart's fingers dimpling into the over-tensioned fur and flesh, and the stallion drew up short, nostrils flaring and muzzle lowered to glare at the dominant stag.

One more thrust and three more virulent throbs later, and Gehart finally slid himself completely free of Khendar's rear entrance, quickly stepping aside and out of the way of the fountain of stag cum that began pouring from underneath Khendar's lifted tail.

The younger deer's face flushed terribly, but at least he could feel the incredible pressure inside of him relenting a little, now. Realizing he'd been holding his breath, Khendar drew in a long gasp, coughed up a little splatter of Gehart's semen, then gasped again, unsteadily pushing himself upright. He wasn't sure at first if his wobbly legs could support all that extra weight, but somehow he was able to stand on his own two hooves, steadying himself with his hands on the table's edge.

The meeting room was quiet for a few seconds, but for the steady, heavy dripping of cum from between Khendar's rear cheeks. He was trying to clench, but couldn't hope to hold it all in.

Uncaring of the mess he'd left, Gehart patted Khendar on a rump and steered him toward the room's door with a hand on the shoulder. "Why don't you go ahead and wait outside. It seems Master Owren and I have matters we must discuss."

Khendar blushed again, feeling the way his butt rippled from that simple pat, up past the side of his tail base and then back down again. He did as he was told, though, staring at the floor in front of his hooves until Owren reached out and caught his upper arm.

"Go back to the caravan, Khendar," the big horse told him. The stallion's voice was stern, but he blinked and loosened his grip on the deer's arm when he realized how much his strong fingers were pressing in against Khendar's fur and flesh. Owren shook his head with a snorted breath, letting go of the deer, but adding, "To the caravan, you hear me? Don't go back to the inn, and don't make any stops on your way back."

Unable to bring himself to talk right then, Khendar just nodded, his ears folded back in humiliation, and waddled the rest of the way to the room's door. At the doorway, though, he glanced back over his shoulder, and found Gehart's eyes following his every movement. The other deer just gave him a warm smile, but there was something odd about Gehart's eyes right then, and it had nothing to do with the reverse reflections in his pupils. Khendar couldn't even see those from that distance. Gehart just looked...satisfied, in a way that went beyond the heat of a normal afterglow. Satisfied, and possessive, in the way an artist was satisfied with a nearly completed painting, as if he was proud of his work.

Swallowing, Khendar left the room and found the owl attendant waiting for him with an armload of fresh clothing, along with a new anal plug that Lura passed to him as casually as the rest of it.

His ears were going to catch fire, he just knew it.

Clearing his throat, he turned away from Lura while the owl moved back to her desk, sitting down as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened. While he gingerly wedged the plug up between his rear cheeks, careful to bite back a reflexive moan, Khendar could hear Owren and Gehart begin arguing in the room behind him. Or rather, Owren started to try to argue, only to be cut off by Gehart's calm, "I don't appreciate being threatened, Master Owren. Neutered by my own antlers? If I were to take that seriously, by the town's laws, I could bring charges against you. Perhaps even have you put in the stocks for a day or two."

"I was _being_serious, you--" Owren began, only to get interrupted again.

"Yes, I believe you were." There was a pause. Khendar's ears flicked toward the door while he struggled to get his new trousers around his thicker legs. "I suppose I will have to add a small charge to what you and your caravan already owe. Call it a convenience fee, for bypassing a long and arduous day in front of the town council that would inevitably rule in my favor."

"What we already owe?" Owren repeated angrily.

"Yes, of course. As of yesterday, the amount of time your folks have spent in my establishments has built up quite the tab."

"In your establishments?" The horse's voice was pure indignation.

"Yes. I own several. And before you look for someone to blame among your caravan, did you ever think to ask how much my lovely Indris charges for an entire night? And all this is on top of what you already owe for my town's protection, your tavern fees, charges for stable stalls, and rental space for the bazaar your people have set up in our town square..." Steady hoof-falls approached the open door, and Gehart's arm appeared just long enough to shut it. His voice was more muffled when he went on. "Of course, I may have a way for you to settle those debts. That's what I wanted to meet with you about today..." His voice grew too faint to hear as his hoofsteps carried him back toward the table, and Khendar realized he'd paused with his new tunic around just his arms while he listened in on their conversation.

Giving himself a shake that made his whole bloated form wobble, Khendar set about stretching the tunic down past his antlers. It was clearly made for someone Gehart's size, but he still couldn't get it down past the top of his domed-out belly, leaving his entire midriff bare and exposed, gurgling around all the cervine semen inside of him.

"I should..." Khendar muttered under his breath, but found himself leaning toward the closed door, his ears standing at attention and straining to hear what was going on behind it. Lura cleared her throat from behind her desk, though, so the deer shook his head with a sigh and headed instead to the building's front door, barely fitting his newfound bulk through to the street outside.

He looked first one way up the street, and then the other, trying to remember how Gehart had led them there. With his belly exposed and his entire body swollen and tender, it was going to be a long and embarrassing walk--or waddle, rather--back to the caravan.