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Homecoming

Written by Amethyst Mare for kchishol1970

"They're here!"

"Are you ready yet? We've got to go!"

"I can't find my harness!"

"Hurry!"

Sylvia sighed deeply, rubbing her temples in slow, soothing circles; the girls' excitement over Ryoga's timely return had them in a disorganised whirlwind and had rapidly transformed her private chamber into a war zone. If any war zone could be said to encompass such fine leather and ribbon harnesses with convenient sheaths for decorative yet deadly weapons included as a standard feature, that is. Robin in particular was a bundle of tightly strung energy, darting about the room in her eagerness to assist the rest of the harem although, in her trembling paws, the harem would have been better suited to decline her offers as the wolfess proved more of a hindrance than a help, if an endearing hindrance.

With mere minutes to spare, Sylvia ushered them down at a half-run to the landing strip where Ryoga would be disembarking and the lioness felt a quiver of pride as the crowd parted respectfully to allow them through to stand in prime position: they had earned their place well. The crowd bustled and jostled each other, every fur craning their necks at near impossible angles to see the lavishly decorated airship appear on the horizon in a burst of crimson and gold; every citizen leaped from the ground and cheered until they were hoarse at the solid knowledge that their prince was being safely returned to them somewhere in the belly of the ship. At the edge of the strip of firm, bare ground, edged with bright, multi-coloured flags, Sylvia caught her breath, realising the importance of their position in the public eye - not just the eye of those within the palace anymore. Beside Ryoga's parents, John and, of course, Lydra, they would be the first to greet him when he set foot on land once more. It was both a daunting and warming thought that encouraged Sylvia to stand to attention, bidding that the harem did the same, poised to both display their toned bodies and lethal prowess, paws ready to draw weapons if any threat showed itself.

"Nervous?" Lydra mouthed to John as the airship set down with a gentle sigh. The mouse shook his head vehemently no, a wide grin upon his muzzle.

"Never!"

Ryoga stepped gracefully down from the airship seconds after it had alighted, the protests of his attendants and the work crew, who were not as quick to disembark, noticeable at his heels. Deafened by the jubilant roar of the crowd, he smiled genially, opening his arms in acceptance of the grand welcome he received, and was folded into the arms of the king and queen, his parents.

"Welcome home, son," they murmured, clasping him tightly to their chests before allowing him breath and looking proudly upon him, a slight glint shimmering at the corner of the Queen's eye. "We hear that you do not return alone. Your mission was successful, we trust?"

"Very successful," Ryoga answered cheerfully, already looking to greet his friends. "As you will see shortly... John! Lydra! How wonderful to see you again!"

"Likewise," Lydra replied warmly. "It is good to have you with us again."

Shaking John's paw so vigorously that the mouse's paw began to ache, Ryoga's eyes drifted to the harem, wondering how they had changed and who they had become in his absence. He knew from their expressions alone that their initiations were complete and that they had become the respected citizens of Jahaliya that they deserved to be. He was woefully unprepared for their disciplined composure, however, and formal standing, their toned muscles tensed as if to leap to his defence at a moment's notice. To the trained eye, it appeared that they were seasoned warriors of Jahaliya, even if the surprising truth was betrayed by their vibrancy and youthful features.

"So, my friends," he asked with one eyebrow comically raised. "Have you all become as slutty as you desired?"

"My Lord Ryoga," John answered swiftly for them with a wry smirk. "We have here a legion of lusty warrior sluts, bar our lovely lioness who is progressing admirably at her own pace, as she should. I am certain, however, that you will soon have a complete legion of slutty warriors standing here with a fierce matriarch at their head."

"More than that," Lydra added thoughtfully, scratching the back of her paw absently. "Not just the harem has been progressing while you have been away - someone here forgets himself. John's skills in managing the household are stronger than initially expected, for one untrained and inexperienced, and he has taken to his duties with exceptional aptitude, if I may be so bold. Why, he seems rather set to ensure that the palace is filled to the brim with lusty women for you to fuck in honour of the Goddess! It will surely become an unprecedented but joyous oasis of sensual delight in no time at all."

Nodding his approval with rapid bobs of his muzzle, Ryoga trailed his gaze over the harem, noting the differences in their individual and past stances and general demeanour; they were true warriors in every sense, having been liberated from their old habits. They felt his eyes upon them, even though their muzzles remained facing strictly forward as Sylvia had instructed them, maintaining the proper presentation, and shivered inwardly, some relaxing into the position more assertively than others. Natasha was especially comfortable with being appraised as a warrior, her confidence in her ability having progressed in leaps and bounds over the recent weeks. Robin and Nell, however, blinked noticeably, the very tips of their tails twitching as they strove to maintain their composure and avoid eyeing Ryoga's swelling arousal, as befitted a warrior on duty.

Duty before pleasure, after all.

"It seems like I'll have my work cut out with these lovely ladies," Ryoga commented at last with a wolfish grin. "Besides as my skilled warriors and dear friends."

Sighing deeply, Ryoga glances back over his shoulder at a sudden bustle of movement as others prepare to disembark the airship, the hint of a soft, feminine lilt reaching his sharply pricked ears.

"Although I dearly wish we could take our pleasure here, circumstances..." he looked back again, a minute frown creasing his forehead. "Circumstances dictate otherwise. Citizens of Jahaliya, I am pleased to present and welcome to you my beautiful wife, Princess Jasmine, and her attendant."

Descending the gangplank, the just announced Princess Jasmine softly padded with her slender muzzle bowed, her features concealed under a heavy veil with not a trace of fur, other than her paws, showing under the hem of a thick, dark grey gown. Although the watching furs could tell that she was certainly a canine, her exact species could not be discerned by a casual observer as she kept her head demurely lowered, as if she did not wish to attract attention. Her attendant was similarly attired, but in lighter and brighter clothing, a patterned headscarf about her head and a matching band covering her eyes; it was with a sharp intake of breath that the attentive Sylvia realised that she was blind. Perhaps she had been involved in an accident and the Princess could not bear to lose her as her attendant?

"Ladies and gentlefurs," Ryoga said formally. "I very much like you to meet Princess Jasmine. We have married as the result of a political understanding with the far off Kansine Kingdom, our friends with whom we have established a profitable and beneficial political and trade agreement," he paused to let the cheers rouse and quiet, which were both in welcome to his new wife and in celebration of the successful alliance.

"Welcome to Jahaliya, Princess," Sylvia greeted her warmly, her gaze tracing over her strange clothing. "We are sure that you will find living here most pleasurable and comfortable at the palace."

"I am sure," she said loftily, seeming to have some difficulty in looking directly at Sylvia or, if the lioness was honest in her observations, any of the furs other than Ryoga and her assistant.

"Jasmine?" Ryoga called her attention gently back to him. "These fine warriors serve as my personal bodyguard-harem," he said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as if he was trying to conceal yet not conceal something; behind the veil, the canine's eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

"Harem? I suppose that is to be expected... Good day," she said stiffly, her back ramrod straight. "I am certain that you do a fine job of serving my lord Ryoga."

She shook her head at Ryoga, perplexed and disturbed at the sight of women so lewd and promiscuous, said to be doing work that surely belonged to a male fur, even in the strange and foreign country of Jahaliya. Why, though she would keep her thoughts to herself, that wolfess in particular looked especially displeased to see her, glaring up from under lidded eyes - she had some particular displeasure with Ryoga taking a wife. Jasmine looked away distastefully, thinking that perhaps she would bring some order to this ragged place in time.

"May I be excused, Prince Ryoga?" She said quietly, her voice barely above a murmur. "I am weary and would like to rest if there is nothing we must attend to."

"Of course," he smiled. "Please take all the time you need. The porters," he indicated some furs who rushed forward and stood at attention, "will assist you in unpacking."

She nodded pleasantly and bustled off with the porters, her assistant trailing a few steps behind, ears swivelling to detect where she should walk, although she was used to following her mistress and knew the delicate tread of her feet better than any other. Robin, who had indeed been struggling to maintain her disciplined composure, resisted the urge to shoot a dark glare directly at Ryoga. She had been so close to him and he comes back with this, this woman on his arm? Did he not care one iota for her?

Apparently not, in her mind.

"Prince Ryoga," Robin began coolly, her arms behind her back as she stood tall, ignoring Sylvia's concerned glance. "May I speak to you privately for a moment?"

"Of course, Robin," he answered with a characteristic, warm smile. "I also have something to discuss with you. Please - come with me."

Taking Robin tightly by the paw, he led her away from the crowd and the curious harem, entering the belly of the airship where they would not be disturbed for some time. Opening the door to a room close to the entrance that could have been intended for the crew on board the airship, he beckoned her inside, his eyes as bright and warm as they had been before. For a second, Robin doubted that she had in fact seen Princess Jasmine and that she had been announced as his wife, but her conviction was hardened by the fierce anger roiling in her stomach.

"So when did you plan to tell me that I was out of the picture?" Robin snapped the instant they were out of sight. Caught off guard, the wolf fought to gather himself and shook his head quickly, holding up his paws to placate the femfur.

"Out of the - Robin, no! Of course not, do not think such a thing," he said, offering a comforting paw upon her shoulder, which she shrugged off angrily. "No, my dear, this is a political marriage. I was bound to do it as prince of the realm, the alliance was vital to Jahaliya."

"Oh, of course," Robin growled, rolling her eyes dramatically. "And I suppose the fact that you've got a pretty canine all bundled up and ready to be unwrapped doesn't interest you in the slightest? You were more interested in me when I was restrained and inexperienced in your world! Maybe I should wear more layers of clothing - that seems to catch your interest!"

"Robin, you really are being quite absurd. That is not my -"

"Did your feelings for me mean nothing?" She cut across him demandingly, her eyes ablaze. "Was all that time worth nothing? Am I worth nothing to you?"

"Now that is what I wanted to talk to you about," Ryoga said quickly, grabbing Robin's paws firmly in his even she snorted, fighting to pull away. "Robin... I am sorry that I did not speak of any of this to you earlier as you, more than any other Jahaliyan, had the right to know before anyone else what my marriage intentions were. My mistake or diplomatic choice made, I may only speak of my intentions now..."

He paused, seeming to collect his courage while Robin looked on sceptically, her tail sweeping back and for in a nervous twitch.

"Robin, I want to marry you as my second wife," he said honestly, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over the backs of her suddenly limp paws. "I love you for who you are and I would never have it any other way. Jasmine is aware of my feelings for you and has accepted that I desire you as my second wife. The question that remains, however, my love, is...will you accept my proposal?"

"Accept your proposal..." She said slowly, mulling it over. "Accept your proposal to be second best, the second wife, the best I'll ever be. Second best."

Sensing his mistake a fatal few seconds too late, Ryoga tried to backtrack, tell her that it was not so, but the damage was already done. With tears welling up, she thrust him savagely away, sending him stumbling back with the force, the wolf distraught at the unforeseen turn his proposal had taken.

"I hate you!" She screeched through the tears, before turning on her heel and fleeing the airship, not caring who saw her streak past the crowd, which was still dispersing after the royal welcome.

Ryoga sighed, seeing the tip of her black tail whip around the corner and her frenzied footsteps fade from his hearing. Slumping down with his back to the wooden wall, Ryoga lowered his head to his paws, rubbing his temples in comforting circles, one paw brushing away a stray droplet of moisture from his cheek.

*

Sylvia ran a paw through her hair, her footsteps heavy though the day was barely half done, the harem sent to the bath chambers to refresh themselves before the inevitable wedding reception. Passing the doorway to the harem chambers, Sylvia hesitated, hearing some unusual, muffled noise from within; surely the harem had not disobeyed and returned to their chambers without the required preparation? Perhaps one of them had needed something for the baths, although a servant would have normally been sent to fetch the item, if needed. Curiously, she inched the door open, stopping dead when she saw Robin sprawled out on her bed, the fine sheets soaked around her muzzle from tears - the wolf was a mess.

"Robin?" Sylvia said, startled. "What's wrong?"

"Leave me alone," the wolfess mumbled, burying her face into a cushion.

Crossing the room, the lioness sat lightly upon the edge of the bed and rubbed Robin's bare back, soothing her sobs until they were barely a tired snuffle. Robin rolled over on to her back and stared up at the ceiling, wiping away stray tears from her cheeks, breathing deeply and slowly to calm herself, her breath catching in her throat.

"He hates me."

"What? Who does? You surely do not mean Ryoga?" Sylvia questioned, perplexed. "Did something happen when you spoke alone?"

"Sylvia he's gotten married!" She burst out. "How could you not see how that would affect me? We were practically a couple! Now all he wants to offer me is to be second at his side, his second wife. And like a fool I threw it back in his face," she finished bitterly.

The lioness sighed deeply and rolled her shoulders to relieve the built up tension. Already it seemed that their lives were becoming more and more twisted, their social status and those they associated with entwined with politics that she had sought to avoid, even in the school circuit that she had taught in her old world. In some circles, everything was nothing more than a power game, in which the ones at the top were never happy; she doubted that that was the case in the higher classes of Jahaliya, but her girls, especially Robin who was so closely involved, were easy prey to political games at such a young age.

She didn't want that for her girls.

"Robin, dear," she began carefully, putting her paw under the wolfess' muzzle to make her look up. "I understand where you're coming from but I also understand Ryoga's position. Quite simply, he is a Prince. Although he has a personal life, every part of his life has some political ties to it, whether he wants to or not. As a result of this, he has had no choice but to marry Princess Jasmine, who I believe the King and Queen chose as a calm, kind and fitting match for him in the alliance."

"However," she continued more sternly, refusing to let the wolfess turn away. "Having him propose to you as his second wife is a tremendous honour and not one you should throw back in his face. He knew how turning up with Princess Jasmine would affect you and he clearly wanted to make it up to you, show you how much you mean to him. He loves you, Robin. Do you love him?"

"Yes," Robin answered slowly, her ears perking up briefly but flattening despondently against her skull an instant later. "But I've ruined things now. I screamed that I hated him. And now...now..."

She broke down sobbing once more, rolling away from Sylvia who did not know what she could possibly do to comfort the distraught wolf. Robin hugged the damp cushion tightly to her chest, wishing desperately that it was Ryoga in her arms and not some piece of fabric with no warmth or feeling of its own. How could she have let this happen? How could she have lost him so easily?

"You are wrong, Robin," a new voiced stated firmly from the doorway and the two femfurs heads swung around in surprise to see the Queen herself standing there, one paw upon her hip. "He does not hate you and you have not ruined everything."

"Your majesty," Robin bowed her head respectfully, even as tears dripped from her nose to the sheets. "I am so sorry for my mistake, but I fear that he will not love me in any way after this. How did you know of this?"

"No, my dear, I believe that you are quite wrong in your assumption. And it was my son himself who told me of what happened, so I have come to assist you," she said with an air of certainty and strode over to the bed, seating herself confidently beside the two surprised femfurs. "His love is stronger than what you give, or gave, him credit for, my dear. Tell me, before I proceed further: do you love my son?"

"Yes, I am desperately in love with him," Robin responded quickly, pleadingly. "Please, I love him more than anything else and all I want is to be with him... It's all I need. He's who can make me happy and the person that I most want to make happy, forever and always."

"Then that is all the proof I need," the Queen said warmly, giving Sylvia a wink as she hugged Robin tightly to her. "And all is not lost, I assure you, my dear."

"Not lost?" She questioned, sniffing loudly. "How so? How can I make it up to Ryoga? Can I?"

"Of course you can make it up to him!" She said ecstatically, pleased at the direction Robin's thoughts were taking. "I had something in mind and, now that I am reassured that you love him passionately, I am now at liberty to speak freely. The preparation of the wedding cake for Ryoga's and Jasmine's reception is a very special ceremony in itself and must be crafted with the utmost skill with a ceremonial gauntlet; the kitchens for this ceremony are only used upon the tying of a royal marriage. Robin, hopefully you will soon be my daughter through my son's marriage to you, and I believe you should have the honour of taking part in this ceremony, with a very special conclusion, of course."

"Absolutely," Robin agreed immediately, glancing at Sylvia who nodded encouragingly, a slight smile breaking her stern demeanour.

"Now, what will happen may be rather strange to you, but you will be perfectly safe the entire time, regardless of the surreal proceedings," the Queen warned her gently, though the wolfess only nodded eagerly, barely hearing her.

"When do we begin?"

*

Adequately rehearsed and ready to begin the ceremony, Robin shifted nervously in the large, downy bed, feeling swamped by the thick, white nightgown, which was required for the ritual. The room was bare and minimalistic, in the bowels of the palace and set up in a manner that suggested props for a stage rather than the luxurious bedchambers she had become accustomed to. She strived not to allow her high anxiety show and smoothed the nightgown down methodically over her breasts. Hearing the low chime that indicated that she should begin, the wolfess looked around her surroundings blearily as if she had just woken from a deep slumber and flicked up her ear, trying identify a faint noise that was gone almost before it had time to register.

She yelped as a wave of magic, which flowed as strongly as an age-old river through the ritual chambers, raised her lightly up from the bed, treating her as if she weighed no more than a feather, her limbs no longer her own. Floating up serenely, she fell gently through a shimmering portal, not quite knowing where she was going next but delighting in the sensation of her nightgown dissolving into nothingness as if it had never rested upon her form; she squirmed happily, turning head over heels in midair and caressing her body, finally catching a lengthy glimpse of her surroundings.

Only having a few moments to take in the kitchen she now found herself in - everything many, many times larger than it should have been - the wolfess dropped into a mixing bowl of soft, yellow dough, the sticky substance clinging to her fur like a second coat. The sides of the bowl where steeply sloped and curved, so that she had no chance of climbing out, only smiling up at the chosen bakers who stood around the edge, several giant, wooden mixing spoons spaced at intervals around the rim of the bowl. As if they had no care for the wolfess, perhaps merely another ingredient to their recipe, the bakers took hold of the spoons and stirred the dough, their motions slower as the mixture was thick and unyielding to their instruments without a necessary moisture. Robin's muzzle slipped under the surface of the dough and she was scooped up without ceremony by one of the spoons, deposited carefully upon the flat top of a weighing scale, a thick layer of dough covering her from the tips of her ears to her toes.

"I'm not the milk and the milk's not me," Robin said, following the words of the ritual that she had been taught and licking a lump of sweet tasting dough off her black nose.

Her doughy coat stiffened her movements, but she took the offered, empty pitcher and placed it carefully upon her head, balancing it with due care as she felt that someone had her in their sight, though she could not tell what prompted the sensation that she was being admired and, yes, judged. Before her towered a clear, glass bottle of a white, creamy substance, treacherous scaffolding allowing some sort of access to what Robin strongly supposed was milk, though the only container that could possibly be used to transfer it now resided on top of her head.

"Milk!" The bakers called, rushing about frantically. "We have no milk!"

Determined to give the bakers what they needed, Robin darted awkwardly through a cool shower of water falling from an oversized, silver tap and washed off the upper layer of her dough coat, glad to have a little more freedom to move. She leaped agilely for the scaffolding, scampering up it with surprising grace and ease, her feet slipping a couple of times on the metal poles, leaving a pale trail of dough in her wake. Robin panted quietly as she neared the top of the bottle, again feeling as if she was being watched intently by someone in a voyeuristic style, although, when she dared to glance down, every single one of the bakers was engrossed in his or her own activities, paying no attention whatsoever to the increasingly naked wolfess.

Doing her best to shake off the warm sensation of 'sparkling' energy encircling her body, Robin felt a bit more of her dough coat melt off; she likened the feeling to that of losing her clothes and suppressed the flush of arousal that raced through her, knowing that the burning would be quenched at the conclusion of the ceremony. Resolutely, she teetered upon the brim of the bottle and swan dived into the milk, making a splash that slopped over the interior of the bottle. The dough about her form finally disintegrated completely, leaving Robin free to move as she pleased and lower the pitcher to fill it to the brim with the creamy, rich milk.

"I'm in the milk and the milk's in me," Robin chanted happily, grasping the top of the bottle to haul her slim frame over the edge, the filled pitcher of milk balanced carefully on the top of her head once more. "Goddess bless this milk and Goddess bless me!"

Clad in only her fur, Robin dashed back to the bowl of dough, pouring the milk in to complete the mixture. With the main part of her job completed, Robin stood back to watch the bakers bustle in, pouring the batter into a large, high edged pan as if to prepare it for cooking. But, for this cake, there would be no oven and gentle rising as layer upon layer was added to the masterpiece. Before her amazed eyes, Robin watched as the cake swelled, growing too large for the pan and pushing out the sides, growing into a magnificent, tiered wedding cake, icing appearing seemingly at will to coat it perfectly from top to bottom. The bakers rushed in to add an intricate pattern of delicate, sugar spun flowers to the cake, the wolfess identifying the majority of them after a moment as jasmine.

"This is amazing," Sylvia intoned softly from her high perch in the kitchen chamber, the Queen residing proudly at her side.

"And it happens just like this every time there is a royal marriage," she replied quietly, not wanting to disturb Robin or the bakers from their work. Almost speaking to herself, Sylvia shook her head in bewilderment, feeling the warmth in her crotch spread further, becoming more heated by the second.

"And I'm aroused by watching one of my own girls losing her clothes," she said in confusion, dropping her muzzle a fraction. "How is this..." She trailed off, blinking rapidly at the sudden beaming warmth above her head that seemed to be comforting her and easing her mind so that all that remained was a fierce pride for her student, Robin.

"Robin!" The Queen called out happily, leaning back into the ebb and flow of the Goddess' magic that supported her form also, seeing how Sylvia was calmed by the higher power. "The Goddess is pleased! She is here! Complete the ceremony, my daughter!"

She is here? Robin pondered briefly, then leaping into the air and clapping her hands in unprecedented ecstasy: the goddess was there! She had completed the ritual to her higher satisfaction! Grinning like a fool, Robin danced in a circle, closing her eyes to enjoy the blissful sensation of the Goddess drinking in the sight and shape of her naked, youthful body with a pure but electric lust and love. She looked to the oversized plastic piping bag, which would have been used for icing, leading down from her perch directly to the extravagant wedding cake.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" The wolfess crowed joyfully as she slid down the makeshift slide to land with a muffled giggle in the midst of the wedding cake, which bulged then returned to its normal shape as if swallowing her whole.

She yelped softly as she disappeared inside it, though quickly relaxed and settled in to wait when she realised that the was still able to breathe normally and, what was all the better, see outside the wedding cake at the preparations still continuing around her.

The cake was quickly loaded on to a spacious serving trolley and wheeled out of the kitchen and into the maze of corridors below the palace, the bakers' eager to take both the cake and the encased wolfess to the wedding reception. Robin looked out with some trepidation as the cake was placed before the table of the bride and groom, Ryoga appearing subtly despondent but thrilled at the wonderful creation the bakers had brought forth; Jasmine showed little emotion at all, her eyes cast down behind the veil as she murmured her appreciation, perhaps guessing at what was going to happen.

"Ladies and gentlefurs," Lydra announced grandly, gesturing at the towering cake. "Please enjoy the creation of our talented bakers, specially chosen for their irreplaceable skills in magical crafting; you are very blessed and honoured to have taken part in such a ceremony. May the goddess smile upon you. And now without further ado, please welcome, one very special baker who has played a large paw in the creation of this masterpiece."

Robin burst from the upmost tier of the cake with a flourish of icing, showering those sitting before her with the soft sponge - one of the baker's iced flowers landing upon Princess Jasmine's veil, though she brushed it aside reflexively, not seeming to know what to do with the splash of icing that remained upon her paw. Ryoga shouted joyfully to see Robin again, half-reaching his paw out to her before drawing in back, unsure of her feelings or intent.

"My friends!" Robin playfully giggled, pulling more of her body out of the cake so that she could more easily address the whole congregation within the banquet hall. "Ever since I came to your world, wonderful, wonderful things have happened to me, things I would never have dreamed of before. I lost every single article of demure clothing, along with my inhibitions; I have had many exciting adventures and, most importantly, I have met a wonderful, loving, caring prince who I have not cared for in return, as yet. I was willing to throw all of this away because of one, petty jealousy and I am deeply sorry for my insecurities in this sense, Ryoga."

She paused briefly, a warm blush covering her muzzle as she caressed her body, rubbing the mess from the cake into her fur and licking the icing lewdly from her fingers, arousal emanating from the wolfess like an electric current.

"It would be so silly to throw it away," she repeated softly, holding Ryoga's gaze. "Now this naked, messy, horny slut in your wedding cake would very much like to know if the offer still stands to be your second wife."

Desperate to dive at Robin on the spot and take her as his at long last, Ryoga glanced consciously at Jasmine, worried that she might object to a second marriage so soon, even though he knew that it was common in her homeland. But after receiving a slight, yet certain, nod in the affirmative, Ryoga leapt instantly to his feet, his hard cock bobbing eagerly before him.

"Yes, Robin!" He cried out happily, leaning far forward to take her paws in his own. "I love you, Robin, and I would dearly love for you to be my second wife."

The hall reverberated with the cheers of the citizens of Jahaliya, the shouts of the harem and, of course, John, by far the loudest, the mouse clapping madly as he saw his friend's muzzle overcome with joy and relief. With all the elegance required of a prince, John climbed over the table, scattering plates, to tackle Robin into the cake, the sponge exploding deafeningly upon impact and showering every fur within the hall in sweet sponge and icing.

Lydra stood up, licking the frosting from her muzzle with her long, feline tongue, hinting at what her skilled tongue was capable of in other areas. Paying no heed to her, Ryoga smiled down at Robin and thrust deeply into her cunny, the wolfess lolling her tongue out in pleasure, yipping at her lover to fuck her faster.

"Their marriage is sealed!" Lydra declared, smiling at the sight and reaching down to spread her pussy lips wide apart, an open invitation. "Let us celebrate: in the name of the Goddess, who has blessed us, let us fuck!"

With that said, the lusty panther dived into the welcoming arms of the nearest studs, their paws roaming her body with pleasure and anticipating of the lusty union that was to come. Seated at the main table, Sylvia leaned into Horace, avidly watching the multiple couples - and some threesomes - copulating lustily around her, her paw drifting to her crotch to rub her pussy softly. John had been claimed by a pair of seductive tigress', his fingers buried into the dripping sex of one while the other rode his cock, keeping the contented mouse pinned between her legs. The only fur in the room that was not enjoying themselves was Princess Jasmine.

John caught a glimpse of the dejected canine, struggling to still his frantic motions just for a second, the disappointed mews of his companions making his cheeks colour guiltily. Ducking her head, Princess Jasmine played with her fingers in her lap, smoothing out invisible creases in her gown with deliberate precision.

"Ladies, please excuse me," John murmured regretfully, disengaging from their coupling. "But there is something I must attend to."

"Come back quickly," one tigress purred, running her tongue suggestively over her lips.

Taking up station at Princess Jasmine's side, John placed his paw on her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but quickly withdrew it when she flinched, startled. He shook his head apologetically before snapping his attention to a muscular lion with a shaggy mane that bounded up without a care in the world, his intent clear.

"Not today," John broke in before he had the chance to speak, neatly deflecting the invitation. The lion shook his head, extending his paw towards Princess Jasmine, who he had expected to answer for herself, but John stepped forward sternly, inclining his head towards some single furs that were merely enjoying the view without partners. The message was clear.

"Of course!" He replied happily, not at all put out by the rejection, and leapt off to find another partner for the celebration.

"It's okay," John said quietly to Princess Jasmine, his voice low enough so that only she could hear. "You do not have to do anything that you do not want to, so don't be afraid to say no to anyone."

Princess Jasmine remained silent for the moment, her covered muzzle giving nothing away until she was prepared to divulge words to John, who waited patiently.

"Thank you," she finally breathed, the words coming out in an exhalation of breath that could have been a sigh.

Sylvia nodded approvingly, yet absently, to herself over this exchange, though she was more concerned with Horace's lips nuzzling into her neck, the lioness purring loudly.

"Sylvia?" Horce murmured, caressing her breasts gentle as his cock hardened, pushing insistently against her thigh; he clearly had other thoughts on his mind than the conflict of the new princess. "We should honour Ryoga's marriage."

"What do you mean by that?" Sylvia responded cautiously, glancing away as if she misunderstood.

"Lay back, love, and let us fuck," Horace suggested warmly, massaging Sylvia's inner thighs. "I can't wait for everyone to see how gorgeous and lusty you can be."

Blushing madly, Sylvia slowly, hesitantly, lay back across the table, the delicious, cakey mess pushed aside by her body, and allowed her muzzle fall back so that she had an upside-down view of the room. Distracted by the sight, she panted wantonly, spreading her legs as far apart as physically possible and looking pleadingly to Horace, every muscle in her body quivering subtly. All too eager to oblige his horny lioness, Horace, still standing, placed his paws upon her thighs, thrusting his length into her sex to the hilt, Sylvia moaning below him.

Leaning over Sylvia and pressing her against the table, Horace groaned and drove deeply into her cunny, her juices giving him easy entry to her most intimate recess - the lioness' thighs and crotch were near soaked with sweet arousal after only a little stimulation. Chest heaving, Sylvia brought her paws to her breasts to rub and squeeze the full, womanly mounds, nipples standing up in pert, pink peaks, a feline dashing past her muzzle with her partner, a black dog with a raging hard-on, in hot pursuit. All the sights and erotic scents were less attractive to Sylvia, however, than the virile male between her legs, however, and she raised her shapely calves, wrapping them around Horace's waist and dragging him closer, closing her eyes in bliss at Horace's moan of desire, nearing his peak.

This is a far cry from those tea socials and recitals of my old life... Sylva thought hazily, reaching between her legs to finger her clit and stimulate herself to greater heights. Things have changed... I know which one I prefer any day!

Nearby, Ryoga and Robin kissed in the broken mess of the wedding cake, Robin's fur almost as 'caked' with it as she was covered in dough not so long ago. The wolves ground their bodies against one another, Ryoga's cock hardening after his first climax with his lover and smearing pre cum into Robin's paler belly fur, the femfur not minding at all, as long as she had him close to her.

"I love you, Robin, and I always will," Ryoga declared resolutely, passion shining in his eyes and the fucking couples framing his handsome muzzle in the background. Lithely, the wolfess sprang to her feet, giggling and lapping stray icing from her fingers as she offered her other, cleaner, paw to him.

"I love you too," Robin replied with a quirky smile, assisting her lover to his feet. "But I will not make our love a prison, so enjoy yourself - fuck! - but return to your wives at the end of it to share your tales and passion."

Grabbing Robin's muzzle in his paws, Ryoga kissed her passionately, stroking his fingers over her cheek before grinning happily and pouncing upon a busty feline who murred in delight to have the virile prince of the realm as her partner. Chuckling at his eagerness, Robin clutched the arm of a towering stallion, raising her eyebrows suggestively before running her paws down his muscular chest to his rising member, the horse only more than happy to receive and return the promised pleasure.

Sylvia arched her back up from the table, hardly paying attention to her surroundings, but feeling the acute yet pleasant sensation of many eyes traversing her sleek form. As Horace thrust wildly into her, her voluptuous breasts bounced almost gleefully upon her tawny chest, the lioness' rasping, lusty breath quick in her throat as a shuddering orgasm made her tremble and moan deeply, digging her heels into Horace's back. The world trembled about her and she flung her muzzle back violently, letting out a typically feline yowl of pleasure as the ecstasy rose to new heights, the desiring, hungry stares more potent than a drug to her.

"Oh - look!" She heard a boar cry delightedly when she regained some semblance of her senses. "The Harem Matron has finally joined us!"

"Look at them fuck!" He added admiringly, dropping a sly wink to Horace who had slowed his pace to allow Sylvia a brief respite in which to catch her racing breath. "Hey, Horace, keeping her for yourself?"

"This time, yes," he panted lightly, caressing Sylvia's muzzle lovingly with the palm of his paw.

Shrugging with a lopsided grin, the boar trotted off, cock bobbing in the air as he excitedly informed others of the spectacle taking place upon the table, the couple soon gathering quite a crowd around them. Even the King, surrounded by his own sensual harem of ladies, was caught glancing through the throng of horny bodies, seeing the lioness engaging in a most raw, passionate display with a gusto that made his cock rise, seemingly insatiable at the eager paws of his harem. Too distracted to discern the majority of whispers and murmurs from the scene, Sylvia ran her paws down her body in a sudden bid of sultriness, squeezing and rubbing her breasts to a series of admiring shouts and clapping.

"Please, Horace!" Sylvia gasped, curling her tail about his leg and stroking the soft tuft of hair at the tip lightly over his balls. "More! Fuck me!"

"'Fuck'? So, how does he 'fuck'?" The Queen called out from somewhere above the lioness and Sylvia laughed giddily to see her Majesty upon the shoulders of a rather pleased looking leonine guard, raising her goblet high as if to salute Sylvia's exhibition.

The lioness would have replied, if Horace had not thrust especially hard into her soft, slick sex - the only reply Sylvia was therefore able to give was an orgasmic roar serenaded by the cheers of the crowd. She closed her eyes in unadulterated bliss as Horace groaned and pumped hard into her, the lioness clenching and rippling her cunny around his throbbing rod to milk every drop of his sticky cum. Although, she thought with a wry smile, she doubted that it would be the last time he would cum that evening, if she had the slightest say in the matter.

Licking his lips, John was stood in a prime position to watch Horace pounding into Sylvia, cum dripping down her widely spread thighs. Subtly, he was almost glad that he had had to perform his duty in protecting or attending to Princess Jasmine, given the view he found himself provided with. But surely duty could be combined with pleasure in a situation such as this?

Murring softly to himself, the mouse stroked his hard cock, sighing lightly at the shiver of pleasure it brought and the gentle, seeping relief like a cool draught of water. He pondered vaguely how embarrassed he would have been previously to be pawing himself so lewdly in his old life - that time seemed but a distant memory to the mouse, even if the thoughts still resurfaced occasionally. Now...it was more of a thrill than anything else to have a freedom so delicious that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue; panting softly, John rubbed his cock, desperate to feel his release.

It did not take long before the mouse gave a loud yelp, John grasping his cock firmly around the base as he climaxed, releasing delicious spurts of his seed over the floor, where it pooled in testament to his virility. He moaned and rolled his head back, gasping through faintly parted lips as his cock throbbed in his paw, not becoming limp but hardening further, if anything, the mouse shaking with arousal.

Her muzzle concealed, Jasmine bit her lip and observed, her eyes following the jets of cum squirting liberally from the mouse's cock. Her paws twitched in her lap and her fingers curled tightly into her palms as a warm glow rose in her belly, the tips of her ears flushing a pink hue from a feeling that she dared not acknowledge, let alone accept. Suddenly realising what she was doing - she was watching John touch himself! That was not normal! That was not something a Princess should do, even more so a newly wedded Princess! - Jasmine pinched her arm roughly, drawing a sharp breath at the brief pain. How could she do such a thing? How could she do such a thing to her husband who was...

Her thoughts trailed off and she closed her eyes, the events of the day crashing down upon her with the force of a tidal wave. She felt as if she was no more than a cub experiencing its new world for the very first time in its young life. And making all the mistakes of the young - mistakes she should not ever, ever make again.

"John?" She questioned quietly, timidly; John immediately turned his attention to her with a ready smile. "May I be escorted to my room? I am exhausted."

"Of course, Princess!" He said happily, trotting off to Ryoga with a bounce in his step and his cock dripping semen, happy to be able to serve the Princess and also anticipating locating the pair of tigress' once more.

*

In the royal bedchamber, Jasmine prepared with some trepidation for the night to come, unable to take her mind off the raunchy exhibition that she had borne witness to in the banquet hall; she had fully expected to be forced to be a part of it, though was extremely thankful and grateful to John for protecting her throughout, her thoughts marginally warmer towards the intuitive mouse, her husband's aide. Her hands shook ever so slightly as she drew back the cover on the bed, trailing her soft fingertips over the luxurious silk cover and ensuring that everything was perfect - exactly as she wanted it.

"Jasmine," Ryoga greeted her warmly, entering the chamber, the warm aura of sexual satisfaction emanating from his freshly cleaned and scented fur. "What a night that was! I hope you don't mind, but I've given Robin the bedchamber next to ours," he indicated the door that rendered the room adjacent to theirs. "She'll have it decorated to her tastes in due course, I expect - perhaps you'd like to help with that? We talked about your wonderful eye for detail on the journey here."

"Yes, Prince Ryoga," she said modestly, not liking the thought of Robin being so close but perking up slightly at the possible project that she may be of assistance in undertaking. "I'm sure that will be most pleasant."

"Don't worry, my lovely wife," he said genuinely, resting his paws very lightly upon her upper arms, though not restraining her physically. "She is aware of the boundaries for now. And besides - John will be keeping her company in bed tonight. We'll be hard pressed to get any rest at all, if those two have any say in the matter!"

"Are you okay, my dear?" He continued, concern clouding his bright eyes. "I understand that our...customs...must come as such a shock to you. We have a very different way of conducting affairs here than what you are used to."

"But...of course," Jasmine said hesitantly. "It is surely...different, but I am sure that I will become well accustomed to your...culture....in due course. I must," she concluded simply.

"However, my lord Ryoga," she said with a small sigh that could have been one of sadness or one of relief. "We may as well retire to bed, to garner what sleep we may, as you must be fatigued by your...exertions in the banquet hall. I would not like to weary you further tonight."

Thinking that she had escaped his attentions for the night - that anticipated first night that husband and wife ritualistically spent in each other's arms, whether wanted or not - she made as if to get into the bed, swamped in her nightly attire and a light veil resting delicately upon her muzzle. When he did not follow suit, Jasmine looked up in confusion and then froze.

"I don't know..." Ryoga started, a knowing smile spreading over his muzzle as he approached his still clothed wife with his cock rising to full, proud mast once more. "The blessing of the Goddess upon the wedding ceremony is not only extremely generous but most...reliable, also. I am not wearied in the slightest."

Horrified at the sudden turn of events, Jasmine jumped away from the bed as if was covered in snakes, thoughts of all the wrongs she had done that evening crowding into her mind. She had watched him, she had watched John stroke his...his... And she had felt... How could she have done such a thing? What would Ryoga say to her? He would find out - he would know! What would he do to her? She was not pure to take to the marriage bed!

"I watched John abuse himself!" She cried out sharply, holding up her paws before her muzzle as if to ward off a blow. Shocked and confused, Ryoga halted immediately, even taking a step back to assure her that he was not going to advance further.

"Abuse himself? What do you mean? Is John hurt?" He asked quickly, worried that something had happened while he was occupied with Robin and his other partners. Perhaps John had warded off a too eager Jahaliyan from Jasmine and had become injured in some innocent scuffle? There had been a deal of confusion and chaos in the hall...something could have gone amiss.

"I watched him," she sobbed, crumpling into a heap upon the floor. "He was touching himself in front of me, I couldn't help myself, I am so, so sorry."

"My dear," Ryoga broke in, finally understanding what she had seen. "You did nothing wrong, please do not apologise to me, it is perfectly normal and -"

"But, my lord, I must have," she sniffed, looking up imploringly as he crouched beside her, trying to draw her in against her chest, though she resisted his touch. "In...in my faith...why, it is adultery for any woman to even look at another man with...with...lust in her gaze. My father... Once I sinned. I looked at a guard when entering womanhood with the innocence of a child."

"What happened?" He asked soothingly, rubbing her shoulder as her muscles unconsciously unknotted and began to relax beneath his paw.

"He...he... I was wrong, he was right to do what he did," she said in a rush, unable to contain the words. "I was black and blue with bruises for weeks afterwards, it was so -"

"He beat you!" Ryoga roared furiously, Princess Jasmine falling backwards in her attempt to escape his fury. "For nothing! For no more than what should be expected of you as a young woman! Why, I should hunt that useless piece of flesh down myself and take his very life for having the audacity to harm my wife!"

"Please, please..." Jasmine stammered, cowering and curling up into a tight ball upon the floor. "I never meant... I'm sorry..."

Seeing his wife backing away from him, Ryoga looked down at his fist, which he had clenched subconsciously, his vision red with thoughts of what he would do to her father for harming her over such a thing. Beating was not discipline for a child and it was not suitable for an adult either - she had been wronged and she did not even know or understand how badly she had been wronged. Kneeling beside the frightened jackal, Ryoga gently took her into his arms, embracing and holding her close with a warmth and love that she had not expected; she turned her face up to his, startled by the fierce sense of protection she saw there.

"Do not worry, my wife," he said, removing her veil to kiss her forehead lightly, admiring her exotic jackal features as she blinked tearfully, wondering if she should reach for it or not. "I am not angry at you in the slightest, only worried for your health and wellbeing. But you will never have anything to fear as long as you are in Jahaliya - or out of it. I promise that no wrongs will ever be made to you ever again. And you did nothing wrong earlier, with looking at John, I promise you. Come to bed and we will speak of this when we are both well rested."

Calmed, Jasmine pressed her tear-stained face into Ryoga's neck, allowing him to gallantly scoop her up into his strong arms and tuck her into the bed. The wolf darted to the lanterns about the room, not wanting to call in a servant to do the chore with his wife in such a fragile state, blowing each one out with a puff of breath rather than magic and then curled up beside his wife to hold her to his chest as she drifted into unconsciousness. And, as she sank into sleep, Jasmine smiled softly, knowing that, even though she did not understand this strange land and their ways, she was undoubtedly safe here and always would be.

That was good to know.