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A Little Less Counselor, A Little More Concubine Part 6 For Fyacin_Tia By Draconicon

Perhaps...a little concession...is in order...

Fyacin shivered as he felt the heat of the horse's shaft under his rump, knowing that his tail was flagged as high as it could go and getting stiffer by the second. The warmth under it, the heat that was inside of him was nearly as intense as the shaft that felt as if it could deliver the cure, and the desire to submit to that 'cure' was immense.

There was only one problem.

I am bound to the Emperor...I am his counselor, his concubine...and no...other...

A shiver ran down his spine again, his hunger for that cock growing stronger than he wanted to admit, even as he was pushed against one of the statues of the Jade Garden. He was pinned in place, his cheeks burning against the cool stone, and he could feel the horse pressing against him all the more firmly.

"Come now, Counselor...You know what I want...and you know you want it, too..."

"I...give me..."

"A moment to run? I don't think so..."

The horse stripped him of his weapons as he struggled weakly, his hole clenching like mad as he remembered his moment of infidelity merely a day ago. Falling to his knees to give worship to the stallion, to give his cock the kiss of pleasure and peace that it had so readily deserved, had been an experience in bliss all its own. But after that...after that, knowing that the Emperor had known...

He still remembered the soft touch of the Emperor's fur against his body, the warmth of being taken by his liege, of knowing that he had proven himself in bed and in mind. To belong to the Emperor was to forsake the pleasure of other men...

Even men that were far more endowed.

As his knives landed around him, Fyacin struggled to keep that image in his head, but all he could think of was...was...

Shargo, the great stallion, nudged him again, and this time, the head of his cock almost pierced the poor lion's hole. He gasped for breath as he was lifted on his tiptoes, feeling the great bulk and weight of it threatening him.

"A concession..."

"Hmm?" the horse asked.

"A concession...a concession for your pleasure..."

At least, if he gained something, he would be able to justify his infidelity to the Emperor. He would be able to say why he had given up his body.

"Turn me...turn me to face you...let me see your face..."

Chuckling, the stallion did just that, though he did not let the lion free. A moment later, Fyacin was still pinned to the statue, but now his legs were in the air, wrapped around the horse's hips so that he could look the stallion in the eye. Shargo looked back, his face insufferably smug in the face of this...this moment.

The lion forced himself to breathe, to keep thinking clearly, to make sure that he did not make a mistake. Someone had drugged him, surely. There was no way that he would be feeling this tempted without something clouding his mind, but...but what was going on? What had -

No, this was not the time. The concession. Get something for this, so at least he wasn't selling his body for nothing!

"Your men...your people..."

"What about them, oh little lion of lust?"

"Hardly a little; a dagger need not compare itself to a sword."

"Though mine will impale you far more than you could impale me."

Don't remind me, he thought, feeling his hole clench once more as he looked down at the shaft that buried his in comparison. Hot, thick, and heavy, it burned and pulsed over his own member, soaking his belly in pre-cum. His robes had been split, damaged, ripped and torn.

Another potential excuse, if he needed one.

"I require...require your word..."

"Hmmph. Another promise? You have already paid us to help you. What else can you ask for?"

"You."

Shargo arched an eyebrow, obviously intrigued, if not entirely convinced. The lion shifted slightly, arching his back against the statue, fighting the distraction that was ever-present under his tail. It would feel so much better, he knew, to just have that cock inside of him for a few minutes. He would feel better again, would feel right. But he needed to have this guarantee, lest his Emperor cast him aside.

"Stay in the capital. Stay with us, train our men. You have...you have power," he said, grunting as his cock throbbed at the idea of that 'power' being used on him every night. "I will see to it...that you have...have comfort every night...if you will stay and train our men."

"Hmmph. Why would I give up my own position?"

"Think of the prestige."

"I have my honor."

"Think of the coin."

"You've paid me already."

"The...company?"

"Heh...I have all the company I need...right now..."

Thick fingers grabbed his rump, shifting their positions. The flared horse cock slid along his shaft, running along the barbed flesh until it dropped down under his balls. Warm, wet, and heavy still, it ran along his taint all the way to his hole.

He felt his pucker pull in, trying to escape, but that hot shaft was right there, still. It pushed against him, the sheer difference in their size lifting him up the statue that little bit further, the shadows around them dancing as if mocking him for thinking that he might be able to bargain.

I must...must...

"Ah!"

Fyacin gasped as he felt the pressure on his hole increase, the nudging heat almost inside of him. He had practiced so much for his Emperor that he did not know how to hold something out, merely how to invite something in. His cock jumped, slapping his belly, and as the lion was positioned again, his legs dragged up so that his ankles rested on Shargo's shoulders, he felt the pressure of that cock pushing deeper. The flare had almost passed inside him, the warmth of pre-cum already flowing in his stomach.

"Then again..."

The horse pulled back, then forward, sawing against his hole, coming close and closer to lifting him to nirvana while plunging his future into hell. Fyacin stared up through fogged eyes, his head swimming in denied need and great hunger.

"What?"

"We may yet be able to strike a deal."

"What...what do you wish?"

"My expertise..." The horse clenched his hand almost into a fist, parting the lion's rump that much further. "For this...every night..."

"I...I cannot..."

"Heh. Promised to the Emperor. You need me. And if you won't pay the price, then I won't give you what you need. My experience, or this." The shaft spat pre against him, slicking him up further, the next nudge forcing his hole to open to the point of near-pain among the pleasure. "It is up to you. Sell yourself for some of what you want, or for nothing."

Fyacin grimaced, though not from discomfort. Oh, what he would have given for discomfort to snap him from his trance at that point. He was in a bind, and one that was truly terrible.

My Emperor...

Yet, for all that, he had one trick left. One twisting of words.

"I will bring it before the Emperor the next time I see him. I will make the request of him..."

"Heh...Fine. For now."

And with that, the horse's shaft left the chilled air of the Jade Garden and plunged into the warmth of a counselor's ass.

The simple thrust robbed Fyacin of the ability to speak, his mouth hanging open and his air escaping him in a wheeze. The warmth that had filled him burned still, but for once, it had fuel to burn with. That shaft, that thick, bestial rod that stretched him twice as far as the Emperor's knot had ever done, rested deep inside of him, and it oozed with pre-cum substantial enough to douse forest fires, or so it felt.

Then, it moved. The lion arched his back, gasping and screaming soundlessly as the flare dragged at his inner walls, the pleasure and pain simply indescribable from the size difference between them. The statue at his back provided an immovable barrier, preventing him from falling over, all while the horse pulled back and felt like he was dragging his insides out with that shaft.

POP!

The flare popped free, and Fyacin grunted, the first real sound to leave his mouth since he had been filled the first time. He shivered from head to toe, toes and fingers curling in denied excitement. His hole...

His hole felt broken, as if it had been stretched beyond what it could take. The sides of his rim refused to meet, even as he clenched and shivered and panted and moaned. His shaft danced, the barbed tip flicking against his belly, spitting up to his chest.

POP!

It was in again, and this time, Shargo showed no signs of pulling out. He shoved the lion against the statue, and this time, the rut was faster.

Oh, gods...oh, gods, no...

Fyacin moaned despite his best efforts to hold back, his mind breaking, his body shattering from the sheer size of the horse cock inside of him. Every thrust felt like it was a battering ram against a wall, and that wall was his mind, his sense of self. His cock throbbed every time that it went deep, the medial ring making a new pop in his hole every time that it went in and out, in and out, in and out.

The scraping, near-painful wideness of the flare was impossible to ignore, insanely big and warping him to the lion's needs. In and out, in and out, pushing into his guts to the point where he swore that it stretched his belly as much as it did his rump.

And those orbs. The horse's testes slapped him, abused him as much as the horse himself did. With each thrust, their loud clap announced the conclusion, the full length of bestial cock introduced to his body once more, a pulse of pre-cum as a welcome gift. And then it would slide back again, feeling as if it was turning him inside out, only to shove it all back into place with the next thrust again.

In and out, in and out, in and out, the battering effects of that shaft and the swinging rhythm of those orbs robbing the lion of thought.

His cock jumped, jerked, spat on the ground and the statue alike, and on him. He must have cum at least once, but the hunger had not abated. It would not, he realized, not until -

"What...is this..."

Sound. Sight.

Lights.

Many lights.

Shargo slowed, turning to look over one shoulder, then the other. Fyacin panted hard, his eyes still glazed over, and he only woke when the horse was yanked back, the lion allowed to fall.

POP!

Once more, the flare popped free of his hole, and he slammed down on his face. No falling on his feet this time, unfortunately. The counselor moaned, rolling onto his side.

"Lord Fyacin. Lord Fyacin, can you hear me?"

One of the dogs. A guard? Yes. That sounded...that felt right. A guard with a fat knot that could -

No!

The lion shook his head, pressing his cheeks against the cool ground for a moment or two before managing to get his arms under him. He shuddered, everything shaking, his legs unable to support him. No dancing for a while, he thought jokingly, only to remember that he had been caught on the shaft of another man.

"Sir..."

Fyacin looked up. The shaggy, thick-shouldered dog looking down at him had a clear question on his face: was this rape?

To lie would have Shargo taken off for execution for assaulting a member of the Imperial Court. To tell the truth would risk banishment, or worse, for himself.

"...Take me to the Emperor," he said.

"His Majesty -"

"I must speak with him. Now."

The End