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The Harem-Lympics

Chapter 1: A Little Competition

For HandofBlades

Featuring Fyacintia

By Draconicon

When it came to visitors to Maiyone, Fyacin was normally all for them. They were interesting, coming from different parts of the world, and whether they came from the prudish parts and were amusingly shocked by the city, or came from the more decadent places and felt right at home, they were always good value for money. The lion savored the opportunity to show off, to put his position as a member of the city's leading harem on display, to tease them until his master decided that he needed to be put in his place again.

Particularly the last. His master kept him on entirely too long a leash for his tastes, after all.

But this visitor, this orc from a different world rather than a different land, was too business-like for his tastes. All he did was talk business with Master Drac, making deals about this and deals about that. And the harem that he brought along...

The lion rolled over on his lounging chair, going from lying on his back to lying on his belly. Even here, in the communal chambers at the top of the master's skyscraper, they were all too business-like. A fox, a peacock, a panda, a tiger: it was merely four of the seven that the orc had brought with him, but all stood at attention behind the orc rather than lounging about and enjoying themselves the way that the dragon's harem did.

His eyes flicked from one to another, shaking his head. It almost seemed like they were decorations rather than proper harem members. Why, at least his master had several of them serving him. A dark-furred unicorn was at the black dragon's feet, and a slippery goo-phon was deep into teasing her master's ass, rubbing and worshiping the musky place.

Hmmph. Standards. They are slipping.

The communal floor had plenty of space for service, after all, as well as relaxation. The river-room that it had been had been phased out for a more eastern look last week, and while there were delicate paper walls everywhere, each one of the painted barriers could be rolled off to a different location, forming rooms and then breaking them down as one saw fit. Cushions of pillows and throws were everywhere, giving seats that could be built up into thrones or broken down into nothing more than the smallest cushion between them and the marble floor.

Other members of the dragon's harem were scattered about, from the three-tailed arctic vixen that stood highest of them lounging over a curved rock to the butler that kept them organized walking from person to person, taking drink orders and getting things set up for later.

"Zavis?" Fyacin called.

The snake turned to him, the butler dressed in his traditional bow-tie and nothing else. The muscular snake slid over to him on frictionless soles, the tip of his dick just barely pointing his way forward from its cock slit. The lion leaned up, smiling as the butler reptile leaned down.

"Get me a cocktail, if you would. Something bitter. I'm feeling petty."

"Of course, sir."

"And Zavis?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure to treat yourself, too," the lion said as he kissed the serpent's cock tip. "Master's not the only one that deserves a little service."

"Heh, yes, sir. Perhaps later."

"Oh, you stubborn snake..."

Shaking his head as the butler left, the lion rolled back onto his back, his harem silks fluffing out. He would smooth them down again the next time he stood up, but for the moment, he was more content letting his clothing show his displeasure with the other harem.

Thinking that all they have to do is look pretty. And they don't even look that good; why, standing stiff as statues, looking more like guards than the sexy staff that they're supposed to be? Who trained them? A captain of the guard?

The cat was working himself up into a full snit, and he doubted he was going to come down from it soon.

Where's that cocktail?

"Your cocktail, Fyacin."

"Oh, thank you, Zavis," he said, turning his head. "I'm just - Zavis..."

He found himself staring at the snake's posterior, tail lifted and a thick-stemmed glass held clenched by the snake's backside. Fyacin felt the giggles rising up, and the lion had to clench his teeth hard not to sputter or laugh himself silly.

"Is the cock-tail not to your liking, sir?" the snake asked, the butler's voice shaking with barely suppressed amusement.

"Oh, it's quite...cocky...and well-embedded in a lovely...tail..."

It was impossible. Simply impossible. The lion rolled off his lounge chair, laughing hard as he hugged his belly. Any petulant thoughts went flying as he just couldn't contain himself any longer, rolling around on the floor and giggling up a storm.

"I see that your drink is satisfactory, sir. I'll come back if you need a refill."

Damn it, Zavis! he thought, even as he howled and mewled by turns with the giggles. And I was so dignified and brooding! That's not fair!

He kept rolling and giggling from the stupid image of the snake offering him a cocktail with his butt until he rolled into another pile of cushions. Even then, he only stopped because of the soft 'ahem' from above.

It was not the 'ahem' of someone looking for a lion to suck cock or play with pussy, either. He opened his eyes, and found his master's white gaze looking back down at him.

"Oh, hello, Master. Did I disturb something?"

"No, but you were laughing like you got into the catnip again."

"I beg your pardon! I haven't touched the 'nip since I was a wild cat," the lion protested. "Why, where is your proof?"

"The packets of green around the brownie pans is a pretty good sign."

"Hmmph! I hardly think that adding herbs to one's cooking is proof of anything."

The orc across from the master rolled his eyes, and Fyacin was immediately on his feet.

"I'm sorry, was there something that you found funny, sir?" he asked, his smile having disappeared completely. "Does my banter with my master disappoint you?"

The orc looked down his nose even from his seat of cushions, one eyebrow raised at the lion's sudden verbal attack. The fact that his harem members were now leaning forward rather than simply standing at attention wasn't lost on the lion, either. They were responding to his aggression, getting ready in case they were needed.

Instead of lashing out in return, the orc shook his head.

"Not disappointed, but rather...amused. Most of the harems that I've seen have been more studious about what their master is doing, more interested in learning from how the master handles things rather than merely lazing about," the orc said.

"..."

The lion's eyes narrowed at the insult. He was a lion. A feline. That meant that he was supposed to laze about. It was in the species contract, how one was supposed to behave as a cat. Before he could respond, however, the orc continued.

"And the fact that you interrupted two masters obviously shows that you don't have as much respect for yours as you seem to claim that you have. Why, he was in the middle of an important transaction, and instead of finishing it, he had to turn and tend to a laughing fool."

"A laughing - you seriously mean to -"

"Fy."

The lion immediately shut up, called back by the master's words. Regardless of what this orc said, he was a well-trained submissive, and he wasn't just going to fly off the handle and ignore an order. He took a step back as the master snapped his fingers, moving to stand by the dragon's side. His eyes narrowed, still, and he bristled from head to toe at the indignity that the orc had presumed to deliver, but he still held himself stiff and still.

As the dragon ran his fingers around the base of his tail, the lion slowly relaxed, though he didn't leave. He hadn't been dismissed just yet. The orc turned to his master, shaking his head.

"I thought that you might have had a better set of slaves up here than this. I imagined that one such as you trained them better, particularly in a city like this. Are all the academies for slave training just that...ill-suited to it?"

"They're good enough at their jobs," the dragon said. "However, I tend to take a different tack with my personal submissives. I have my own plans for them, and I tend to work outside the established norms."

"Obviously. None of my harem would be nearly so uppity as to challenge another master the way that yours did."

Fyacin felt the urge to leap forward again, to defend both his honor and his master's, but the touch at the base of his tail was just relaxing enough to keep him from doing it. Nice, too, very soft, very soothing.

He would have liked to have this happen in a less stressful moment, that was for sure. It would have been like a little massage, just enough to keep him happy and purring without actually pushing him into full kitty-goo-pile.

The service behind him, he realized, had come to a stop. No more unicorn mleming her master's feet, no more soft licks and kisses from beneath the master.

For that matter, all of the different harem members were popping up behind him. Zavis at his shoulder, Anya at the master's. There was Idesin coming out of a nearby book, popping out of whatever story he had been telling himself, and there was Zaza sliding out from under the master's ass.

One by one, the eleven members of the dragon's harem showed up, all of them as naked as one could imagine, but all of them standing firm on the side of the dragon.

The orc looked about, and then looked back at the master.

"I see that you have a vast and varied collection," the visitor said. "Did you gather them all and train them yourself?"

"Most of them, yes, though there was some self-training on the parts of a few of them. Zavis here was quite well-trained on his own."

"And here I thought that you might have had a hit and miss technique," the orc said, sounding almost like he was sneering without actually doing it. "Do you have anything that you can actually show off with this group?"

"Perhaps I should allow Fyacin here to show off what he is best at."

As the lion fought the urge to preen, the dragon's hand finally left his rump, allowing him to focus once more. The feline rolled his head to one side, then the other, resting his hands on his hips with a small grin.

"Well, if I am allowed to show off, I want someone to show off with," the lion said. "Who is your best sultry boy, hmm?"

"Are you asking me directly, slave?" the orc asked. "You should know better than to do that. Really, Draconicon, are you seriously giving them that much leeway that they believe they can talk to any master that way?"

"I'm giving them the leeway to live a life outside of merely serving me, Oc-Tar."

"That's hardly the life of a harem member."

"It's the life of a person. There's a difference."

"Well, if you wish to humiliate yourself."

The orc snapped his fingers three times, and the fox in the line behind him stepped forward.

Fyacin flicked his eyes over to the vulpine slave, giving him a quick measurement. Like the others, the slave wore a tie that ran down his bare chest, and his cock, sheath, and balls were all restrained behind an iron ring that was fitted tight to the crotch. Another pair of ball stretchers had been added to the fox's crotch, pulling his balls down and keeping them from rising up.

The vulpine's ears twitched, the signature large ears of the fennec fox making it impossible for anyone to think of this slave as any other species. His pale fur, past cream and nearly white, could have hidden any number of cum stains on it, and he wondered how many times the orc master had taken advantage of that little feature.

The fox stepped forward on sliding, digitigrade feet, bowing as he made himself known.

"I am Alantir, the body-servant and dancer to my master. If it pleases all, I will seduce the lion from his pride."

"Oh, you believe that you are equal to me? How wrong you are, slut of the sands," Fyacin said, smirking as he ran his hands up his body. "There are none equal to me on the dance floor...well, perhaps one equal. No offense, Nataraj," he called over his shoulder.

"None taken," the lizard called back. "I'll just have to remind you of how much better I am, later."

"Later," the lion agreed.

Before he could begin his seductive assault, however, the dragon master clapped his hands. The entire room went silent as he spoke.

"We must agree to terms," the dragon said. "If this is to be an official competition, to make a point, then our slaves must know what they are competing for."

"I suppose, yes. It would be simpler to merely see your slave be pushed into his proper place, but if this must be a competition..."

"Oc-Tar, you started this. And if you are going to downplay it, then you might as well surrender now." Fyacin smiled. That sternness was seldom used by his master, but he loved seeing it directed against someone that annoyed him. "You insulted me, but more importantly, you insulted one of my servants. If you aren't going to stand by your words, then you have no right to say them. State your stakes, and I'll state mine."

The orc arched the other eyebrow, almost looking surprised.

Fyacin wasn't. The master had always made it clear that he valued those that lived under him, that he prized them more than merely for the sexual services that they rendered up to him. The master wanted them as the people that they were, for the loyalty and respect that they gave him, not merely as objects.

It was one reason that he was content with a leash so long. It might not have always been the pure pleasure that he asked for, but it was far more respectful and enjoyable than it would have been under a harsher master.

The orc leaned back, folding one baggy-panted leg over the other as he thought. His green toes danced for a moment or two before he nodded to himself.

"Fine. If your slave wins, he will be allowed to take the title of mine. The Dancer Supreme."

"Then if your slave wins, he will have my slave declaring from the rooftops that your Alantir is the superior dancer."

"That is little punishment."

"It's more than enough for someone as proud as my Fyacin. Wouldn't you agree, my lion?"

"It would be an embarrassment that would take me years to get over, master, if ever," the lion admitted. The idea of declaring another better than himself for the entire city to hear? He would never hear the end of it. "So, I will have to make sure that I don't have to do that."

"Indeed. Now..."

An area of the common room was cleared out, the cushions pulled to the side and the various paper walls turned into an arena around them. Other cushions were piled up on the outside, allowing the lion and the fennec an audience to what they would do to one another.

Fyacin smiled as he stripped down to little more than underwear, leaving himself with a skirt-like set of silks that ran from his waist to his ankles, and veils that ran from his ankles to his wrists. Dancing attire, far better for the work that he was about to do than harem pants and a silken vest.

His feet were bare, of course, with only the toe rings of his master's ownership to help him. He smiled as he tapped them on the floor, giving himself a tempo to set in his mind.

As he looked across the arena, he could see Alantir stretching, the fox pulling one leg behind his back, then the other. The fox had not bothered to dress, but instead stood in only his fur, his cock half out of his sheath and his tail held high without shame.

The pair of them turned their backs on one another, looking up to their masters on the opposite sides of the arena and bowing. As the lion stood up, he saw the master looking down at him, and he winked up at the dragon. The dragon winked back.

I can handle a fox, no problem, the lion thought as he turned around. All I have to do is make him lose control...

The rules were simple. To defeat the opponent, one merely needed to make the other lose control. To pounce, to give in to their animal nature, to lose their calm exterior and give in to the lusty feelings that they both had.

Fy doubted that the fox would be able to push him so far, but there had been surprises before.

But I am the best. I will see him fall before me.

Grinning, he tapped his foot several times, his tail twitching to the tempo behind him.

"Shall we dance, Alantir?"

"Yes, Fyacin. We shall."

They both threw their arms out, melodramatic from the start as they arched their backs and thrust their chests forward. The lion strutted forward, a simple but eager offering of his body, while the fox did the same.

Students of similar schools, the lion realized, and changed his tactics.

He shifted from one style to another, from the submissive, feminine slide of the body, a sway and bounce to the hips, to one more aggressive, curling and summoning and taunting with the rump and the hips. The lion used his slender nature to move like a willow in the wind, a tempestuous storm of lust that swayed across the arena, and then moved like a slow river, winding down, his body swaying slowly and winding gently as he did.

Every time he tried a new style of erotic dance, he studied the other slave, watching for where Alantir looked, for how the body responded.

Yet, the fox gave him no clues to work off of, no hints that told him what he needed to do to take it further. Much as he hated to admit it, the other slave was giving him a run for his money.

He needed to kick it up a notch.

The lion tapped his toes a bit harder, clicking out a higher tempo, the fennec moving to match it as the strode towards each other, each step a strut, each slide a sway that brought their hips into the action. His silks stroked him, and his veils shimmered about him, giving him an air of mystique that he knew that the master loved.

On the other hand, the fennec's movements were bold, exposing himself constantly, showing his body and flaunting it. There was no shame, no mystery, no sudden display that could be hidden and done again. No, it was all there, all the time, open and bold.

Fyacin smiled as an idea came to him as they moved closer and closer together, swaying in a circle, and then a spiral, coming closer and closer until -

"Mmmm..."

They both moaned as their crotches came together, only the slightest of transparent silks separating the tapered tip of a fox cock from the barbed head of a lion's shaft. The pair of them touched, ground, nudged each other, and they grinned as their hands touched, fingers interlocking.

"You're good," the lion whispered.

"As are you...but I -"

"No, I am better."

And with that, he lunged forward, pulling the fox into a kiss.

It was a stolen kiss, the best of all such things, and he breathed in as he held it. The fox gasped for breath, but he was ready for it, stealing the air away.

As Alantir tried to pull back, the lion kept his grip tight, spinning them around and coming together for another kiss, another seductive sucking of the air. Their tongues touched between their lips, a gentle embrace that belied the force the lion had brought to bear.

Mmmm, and he loves it, Fyacin thought as he felt that knot start to grow, the thickness of the base brushing against him again and again. Yes, you like it when someone teases you, when someone else makes you work...

The fox tried to pull back, to turn their spins into a movement that would leave the lion humping, grinding against that plush, wide rump, but Fyacin knew the moves of this dance. Greater partners than the fox had trained him, and greater powers than the orc above them had tried to see him break.

You are no Alys, little fox, he thought with a mental sniff of disapproval, turning yet another spin into another embrace, using his strength to pull the fennec in close, another frot, another kiss, another stolen breath. You can't shake me that easily.

Chuckling the next time that they broke apart, the lion shook his head.

"What's the matter, Alantir? You seem like you're losing control."

"A slave...needs...no control...but their master..." the fox managed to pant.

"Is that so? Then is there any need to control yourself?"

The fox panted as they came together again, the first unconscious thrusts beginning as they frotted together once more. Fyacin dropped his grip on the fennec's hands, sweeping one arm around.

The veils proved their use right then and there, trapping the fox against him as he turned about, still leading the dance even as he was the one that was grabbed. A thick knot nudged against his backside, keeping him moving, keeping him dancing, and the feline happily used his rump to keep that cock hard, distracted, focused on him rather than the teasing that they were supposed to be doing to each other.

Every time that he pushed back, every time that they swayed along the ground, more and more control of the dance shifted over to him. Sure, there were moments when Alantir tried to give him the reach-around, to try and get him hard and ready to tease in a different way, but the lion had taken so much control of the dance that he was easily able to deflect that hand, turning it to a different pose.

Slide, grind, slide, grind. They swayed together, an erotic masterpiece that glided across the dance floor. It didn't take long for the fox to be panting in his ear, and once more, Fyacin turned to steal a kiss.

This time, they held the kiss, the fox grabbing him by the head. There was no escape this time, no sudden kiss and suck of air. This time, the embrace was tighter, firmer, holding him in a desperate attempt to take control.

So naughty, he thought as he panted into the kiss, no longer merely stealing breath, but sharing it. It passed between them, sucked from one pair of lungs to the other.

But it was his dance.

His tease.

His breath.

He turned, and they embraced properly again, and that cock finally slipped from grinding against his shaft to sliding between his thighs. The lion grinned, trapping it, squeezing down on the knot and holding it in place. It didn't take long for the fennec to start mewling in the kiss, his hips moving frantically, either trying to free his shaft or trying to fuck the tiny space between the lion's thighs.

In either case, he could feel that Alantir was on the ropes.

The claws on his head weakened, and he broke the kiss. The fox panted for breath, and the pants turned to moans as Fyacin dragged his claws down the other male's bare chest, scratching and teasing as he went, nibbling along the fox's neck as he gradually worked his way up.

"You know the dance and the steps, but you dance to my tune..." the lion whispered.

"Nnngh..."

"A little fox has no business challenging a real predator..."

"Ah...ah..."

The fox's whimpers were getting stronger, his thrusts getting harder the more that the lion worked his way up the tease's neck. Right up to the ear.

The next bite was a lick, and the fox's eyes went wide, his cock slapping up against the lion's taint.

"And this predator...wants some meat..."

"Nnnnnnngah!"

The fox tried to pull back, but it was too late. Fyacin kicked up one leg, resting his ankle on Alantir's shoulder, and that cock slipped up from between his thighs to between his ass cheeks. One little lean, and the head slipped beneath the silks and inside of him.

They moaned together, the lion curling his toes happily as he impaled himself on that cock, and the fennec helplessly thrust forward.

"Mmmm, that's it...give into your nature, my friend...let that humping happen...let's take this to a different kind of dance..."

With a twist of his leg and his hips, he managed to drag the fox down on top of him as they went to all fours, hitting the ground with a small thud. He grinned as he felt that tapered dick working further into his ass, the knot pressed right up against his rim. One push back set the tempo, and the clicking of his toe ring against the floor kept it going. Click, click, click, click, setting the bouncing, thrusting rhythm for -

The lion let out a happy little moan. Not a groan of being taken, not a gasp of being on the receiving end of something brutal, but the happy little moan of a contented cat getting exactly what he wanted. Every little hump was a reminder of the pleasure of the ass, but unlike the one giving it to him, he was getting what he wanted without losing his mind to it.

The huff-hump-gasp that came from above was nothing but the bestial sound of someone that had lost their minds to the pleasure of sex, someone that had dropped back down to being nothing but instinct.

So graceful until you're turned on, he thought. That's the problem of having your master control everything. When they're in control, you don't remember how to control yourself.

Smug as could be, the lion looked back up to his master and bowed his head, sweeping one arm under his chest in a rough, all-fours bow.

"As you commanded, Master, I have conquered the fennec."

"From my angle, he has conquered you," the orc called out. Oc-Tar shook his head. "He is the one that's fucking you."

"Yes, but he didn't want to be fucking my Fyacin. He wanted to be the one getting fucked, to seduce him. Remember? The first one to lose to his base urges," the dragon said. "That is the one that loses. Not the one that ends up on the bottom."

The lion smiled. He could have won in either case, but this was far more fun. To seduce another out of their comfort zone, to pull them to do something that wasn't normal for them, to make them experiment and lose their minds to bliss...

That was where pleasure came for the lion. That was where he took his fun. Not from domination, but from seduction, bringing someone to try something and then seeing them go bananas over it. And he had done that to a fox that had been a complete slave, turning him into a temporary top.

The feeling of that knot against his ass was just getting better and better, too, making him bite his lips to keep his moans from getting too loud. Feeling it slapping against him, feeling his hole start to stretch to take it, only reminded him of how good getting knot-fucked actually was. And considering how stretched his asshole was from how often the master fucked it, he knew that it wouldn't hurt.

"Shall we call this match completed then?" Fyacin asked.

"I would say so. A win to the feline," the master dragon said.

"An unfortunate loss for my Alantir," the orc said. "But perhaps there is more that can be done."

"Indeed," the lion's master said. "Let's speak of this while these two get all the pleasure out of their system."

The walls of the 'arena' were pulled off to the side, and with the help of Zavis and Zaza, the rutting pair were taken off to one of the side alcoves of the communal area, allowing the lion to find a cushion to lay on so that he wasn't bracing himself against the floor.

It was less of a feeling of getting utterly rutted, considering the fox's size, and more just a feeling of getting a pleasant prostate massage as that knot kept popping against his ass. Even when it finally got inside, when it finally started popping in and out and leaving him happily grunting, he was still more conscious of enjoying it as a massage and a teasing rub back there rather than a full fucking.

That's because he's not a real top, the lion knew. He's just acting like one. But it doesn't mean it doesn't feel good.

His cock leaked pre into his silks until he pushed them out of the way, allowing it to drizzle down to the floor as he kept his hips high. Alantir was still mindlessly fucking away, the fennec's cock ring keeping him from actually blowing his load, keeping him nice and stiff with his balls swinging back and forth, back and forth, constantly slapping gently against the lion's taint.

Somehow, he knew that this had only served to kickstart something else rather than prove a solution to a problem. Now that the dragon's 'ill-trained' lion had managed to take down one of Oc-Tar's prize harem members, it would only be a matter of time before the orc's pride required that one of the dragon's slaves lose.

And that would take a while. Much as Fyacin was in love with himself and his talents, he knew that the other members of the harem all had their own abilities, their own things that they did very, very well.

It would take a while for the orc to find someone that his harem could actually properly compete with, he was sure.

Mmmm, go on, big guy. Try and find something that you're better at than us. There's no way that my master's harem is going to lose to someone as stuffy and puffed-up as you are, you big green dick.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"Yes, yes, keep humping the lion," he said with a small groan. "I might actually cum soon if you keep it - ooooh, yeah, that's the spot. Little - mmph - to the left - ooooh fuck, there it is..."

The End