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A Little Less Counselor, A Little More Concubine Chapter 2 For Fyacintia By Draconicon

Towards the end of the night, Fy knew that they would depart for the royal bedchambers, but the first round always took place in the great wooden room where the counselors gave their advice. The old scents were hidden beneath wood and incense, smoke and furs, but they were still there, marks of honor for those that had succeeded in giving their master what he wished.

And tonight, Fy bore the master down to lay on his back, lying between the white fox's legs as he dragged his tongue up and down against the imperial sheath and shaft.

Lick, lick, lick, each slow lap of his feline tongue drawing it further from its hiding place, further from the little home that kept it safe and hid its enticing scent from the world. The Emperor, as ever, was silent, giving him no sign as to whether he was doing well or not.

The lion forced his doubts from his mind, focusing all of his attention upon the great rod and sack before him, the white fur fluffy and airy rather than matted down as some of the soldiers would be after a long day. He dared not touch the imperial orbs, not without permission, but he could at least lick at the base of the sheath, jiggling them with the slight motion of his tongue as he considered his next move.

"You spoke of a messenger."

Business again, the lion thought, though not without the slightest of smiles upon his lips. He looked up from his work, resting his arms along the royal thighs.

"I did, master of mine," he said with a nod of his head.

"Has he been primed for my attentions, or merely teased with the delight of yours?"

"Ah, master of mine, be not coy. My perfection is for your delight alone."

"And does my delight extend to the seduction of my various officers?"

"...Ah, well, that is merely to improve their morale, bringing delight by a different route, oh master of mine."

"You have not yet answered the question, counselor."

Snikt.

Fy froze with a word half-out of his mouth, the shining blade of the imperial throne held at his lips. His own reflection stared back at him, the flat side of the sharp weapon resting against his master's sex.

"I am not yet jealous of your affections, my lion. However, should you continue to divert me with this...charm...I may yet grow weary of sharing you. Do you wish for me to become possessive, hmm? To treat you as a harem of one, to never see the light of day without my company?"

It was a very deliverable threat, as he knew. Fy looked up from the blade to the emperor's lips, not daring to raise his eyes any further than that without direct permission. To do so might invite the use of the blade upon him, for the Emperor might do anything that he wished without the questioning of those below him, and more than one counselor in the past had met his end of the blade of the previous Emperor.

He chose his words carefully, and more carefully still, he ensured that his tongue stayed in his mouth as he spoke.

"Master of mine, the delight of my days, the bliss of my nights," spoke the lion, "I did nothing but breathe words of the bliss that might be the messenger's, should he delay speaking to you until I had the chance to vouch for him."

"And did such words of bliss include promises of your company?"

"Promises most eagerly withdrawn, master of mine," he said, bobbing his head. "I would not dare to slight my master, nor deny him of the pleasure of my company."

"I would doubt you, were you not so transparent."

"My master, I declare offense to that. I merely - mmmph."

The blade turned, the curved sword 'hooking' under his chin at the point. It was not enough to cut, but it was enough to tease, gently pulling him onwards.

It was a sign of the master's skill that nothing of the fox was cut with the sharp end of the ancient blade pointed down towards his body. He was held above the master's sex once more, the soft scent of the Emperor's arousal rich to his nose, and then, and only then, was the blade removed.

Fy dropped, his lips finding the tip of the master's shaft and giving it a soft, gentle kiss. He let out a slow breath of relief.

"Now, my wittiest of counselors. Perform your duty, and well, and perhaps you will not wake up in an ivory tower, chained to the walls to await my pleasures."

He was more than happy to do that, dragging his tongue along the head of the Emperor's shaft and bringing it into his mouth. His master moaned softly under him, no more than a whisper, but it was enough encouragement to make him continue.

As he bobbed his head forward, he tested his master, seeing if he could draw another moan, a whimper, even a sigh from the white fox, but not once did the master break silence again. Even as he bobbed his head down to the base of the shaft - a feat that was not inconsiderable considering the slight fox's eight inches of length - there was not even a break in the master's breathing.

He leaned forward a bit further, resting his arms under the master's thighs, lifting them a bit, his hands running along the white fox's flared hips and soft rump. A hint of pressure, and he felt the muscles beneath the thin layer of softness, a reminder that the ruler of the Empire was not merely a pretty face.

One bob, then another, and he began to taste the musky, salty flavor of the Emperor's pleasure. Smiling in satisfaction, he pulled his head back, licking his lips slowly.

"My master graces me with a flavor beyond compare. He fills me with the sweet tears of pleasure, giving me the blessing of his imperial rod. May I ever prove worthy of it."

"The blessing has not yet come. You have only tasted the hint of the deluge to drown your witty tongue."

"Ah, then allow me, master of mine, to use a more appropriate tool to drain you, so I need not drown and thus enjoy this again."

"Impress me, my lion, and you will have your blessing many times again."

It was ritual as much as it as banter, the pair of them exchanging little things that continued to build on the pleasure that they already shared with one another. Fy smiled, allowing his robes to fall to his sides as he slid up between the master's legs.

It did not do to ask the Emperor to do the work when he was the highest of rulers. To ask the fox a favor was tantamount to demanding one, for one could never be equal enough in the Emperor's realm to him to ask a favor. Nay, one could only ever ask to serve in a different way.

And today, Fy served in a way that was most pleasing to him.

He straddled the fox's thighs, feeling the soft fur of his master's belly caressing his balls as he took his position. The master's thighs lifted, brushing against his rump, forming a backing for him to lean against, and the master's shaft...

He moaned as he reached back, sliding it between his cheeks, and he swore that he saw a hint of a smile cross the Emperor's visage. It was hardly there for more than a second, but the lion allowed himself the belief that he had pleased his master enough to earn a smile.

The tip of the shaft nudged against his hole, and he allowed himself a momentary smile of happiness. He would soon be filled to the brim, and the Emperor would be satisfied.

Bearing down on it as he had a hundred times before, Fy slowly rolled his hips down, the lion taking his time to give the master the best pleasure that he could. Every slow roll of his hips pulled in a bit more of the master's shaft, then let a little bit back out, but never so much as to leave the fox further out than when he had started.

Rolling his hips back, then forward, then back, then forward, sinking down until he felt the tip of the imperial shaft pressing against his prostate. He moaned softly, letting it out as naturally as possible as he leaned back, showing off his own sheath, his own shaft.

It rose quickly as he lowered himself down, and by the time that the master was halfway into his hole, his own member had risen to full mast. The barbs at the tip of his shaft begged for attention, but he ignored them, choosing instead to reach back and spread his rump cheeks, holding them apart as he leaned back against the Emperor's thighs.

The small fox held him firmly, supporting him despite their difference in size. As the lion leaned back, the Emperor's eyes dropped, and Fy knew that his master was watching his conquest. He deliberately pulled his cheeks further apart while his rim squeezed down hard, and he let out a slow moan.

"See how quickly you conquer me, master of mine. See what you do to me, how you leave me gasping and gaping..."

"It is hard to conquer what it so willingly given, my lion. Slide down...surrender yourself to me."

It was a simple request, and one that Fy had indulged a number of times. Tonight was no different.

He moaned, allowing the inexorable pull of the world to drag him down his master's shaft, feeling the usual stretch that came with the thickness of the fox's rod pushing into his depths. The knot waited for him, and as he lifted his toes from the floor, he closed his eyes.

The first kiss of that bulbous flesh was as heated as ever, rubbing against his twitching rim, and then pressing against it all the more firmly. The pull of gravity dragged him against it, forcing him against it as if the master was pushing up to claim him.

And through it all, the fox watched him, the Emperor smiling ever so slightly, knowing that the will of nature itself was forcing the lion to bow to his whim. For as much as Fy could not resist the pull of the earth, so too could no mortal resist the pull of the Emperor's wishes.

With his legs half in the air, Fy could no more stop himself rolling down that knot than a rock could stop itself rolling down a hill. He might slow, he might hesitate, but there would be nothing that could stop him from reaching his eventual destination. All his months of practice under the Emperor did not help, either.

Slowly, the knot pressed against him, the Emperor smiled, encouragingly, and the lion slid down, down, down...

POP!

And just like that, the fox was sealed inside of him. A great heat filled him as the master's pre-cum flowed freely, but it was merely pre-cum, not the delight that he so eagerly wished to feel. He moaned, clenching down, bearing down on that knot, feeling the shaft squish and squelch inside him with every shift.

The Emperor teased him with that never-changing smile, and he knew that it was meant to encourage him to work harder, to push himself further than he normally would. He knew that the fox would hold back, make him work for the bliss that he himself needed.

Every time that he clenched down, he felt the thickness of the Emperor's knot against his prostate, and he felt his cock jump and drip in response. It begged for the relief that his rump craved, to spill seed that had been pent up all night long, and all day, as well. The teasing that he had done for the messenger had only made it worse.

But he could not. Not until his master had given him permission.

Fy rolled his hips against the opening of his master's sheath, rolling the knot and the shaft around in his hole, stimulating everything that he could. The fox smiled, shaking his head slowly.

"If you do not speed up, my lion, then I will have to...take steps."

"Is my hole no longer sufficient for you, master of mine? Need I take further steps, myself?"

"It seems that you must."

"Then I must show you a new trick."

The lion smiled, turning where he sat. The sudden twist would have hurt another, but he had relaxed himself as he did it, so he didn't twist either his rim or the master's shaft. He faced away from the fox, and then lowered himself.

"Ah!"

The master's first gasp of the evening, and as Fy set himself to work, he promised himself that it wouldn't be the last.

Hours later, laying with the master in his bedchamber, with the small Emperor curled against his side, the lion leaned his head back. He had been promised an orgasm on the morrow, provided that he woke the Emperor properly, but that would be easy to do.

It was more the sight of the other two advisors through the crack in the door that concerned him.

Alys and Kisari both stared, almost glared at him through the crack between the Emperor's doors, their eyes fixed on him and narrowed to boot. Perhaps it was jealousy, perhaps it was simply that they believed that they deserved to be where he was. Perhaps the Emperor was right, and they believed that he had been impertinent during the presentation of their advice about the situation.

In any case, it mattered not. He had what he wanted, and they would just have to displace him if they were unhappy about it.

Fy smiled, folded his hands behind his head in as cocky a fashion as he could manage, and closed his eyes.

The End