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The King's palace was not what I was expecting. In my home city the palace was loaded down in gilt and cloth of gold, rich tapestries covered the walls, and expensive scents emanated from bowls in every room where incense burned slowly day and night. It was as if we tried to emphasise the difference between us and the mere common people of our domain, whether they were wolves like us or the 'attendant races'.

It was also something of an obvious arms race we indulged with our more haughty subjects. The Barons liked to flaunt their wealth, and as the monarch, my father could not be seen to be falling behind his subjects, even his wealthiest ones. And so my house had spent the decades, and much of our fortune, staying perpetually two steps ahead in the ostentation stakes.

I had to admit it made for a fairly gaudy spectacle sometimes, but I had become used to it and now I found the lack confronting.

Here though, the palace was vast indeed but generally spartan. White walls, simple wooden beams. When I had been shown into the formal throneroom set aside for audiences, the King himself had been dressed in a plain white tunic with a border of some complicated pattern in green, and the only significant decoration was a huge mural of horses on the plains that covered the entire wall behind the monarch's simple wooden throne.

I had felt a little disappointed in a way, though I should not have. The horse lords were a rival at least, if not an enemy yet. If they were not as rich as they seemed, it was a good thing as far as we were concerned.

Still, even in that rather stilted formal audience where I presented my commission from my own King and father as an ambassador to the court, I had been struck by the one thing in the room that showed off the power and wealth of the horse kingdom.

They had been arrayed around the room, as expected. I had encountered them ever since I arrived at the palace gate to present myself to the lord, and their presence followed me on my tour through the public chambers and now here, in the throneroom, a whole platoon had taken up positions around their lord.

The Royal Guard. The words even made my lip curl and my nostrils flicker in mixed fear and longing. They were the most formidable military force known to our world, a thousand hand picked stallions trained since colthood for the task, who had proven to be not mere legends in actual combat.

I reflected ruefully on the border skirmish between our kingdoms that had flared out of nothing much a decade ago when I was still a cub. We had won a couple of minor victories and my father seemed eager for a full scale confrontation with the "little horselings" as he called them.

And then a mere cohort of the Guard had descended on an entire legion of my father's elite troops and slaughtered them almost to a wolf. The horse lords had sent back one young wolf as messenger, though he could not say much. Even to this day he still shakes at the scent of a horse and can only say the word "no".

He did not have to say a single word extra for my father to get the message though.

Now I had stood in the throne room of those same horse lords, before their King, and bowed my most fulsome bow before him but I could not help look around at the arrayed mass of horseflesh. Huge stallions, that much I could see, all comfortably bigger than a wolf, but they were also beautiful, most looking quite young and immensely strong and virile. They wore a simple loincloth with a border of green like the one on the King's tunic, and a belt with an efficient looking sword and dagger attached. And in many other places they dripped with gold.

Eyeing up one huge stud, a Friesian with coal black coat and dark feathering and simmering blue eyes I had enumerated the decoration as a way of remaining calm through activity. His mane was tied in gold rings and draped over his chest, he wore gold nipple rings that shook when he breathed, thick gold bicep rings and a golden torc around his neck. Not all the studs had as much but nor was he alone in sporting so much visible wealth.

It made an odd contrast to the King, who seemed to see the need for no adornment. He was a huge stud himself, a shire, with bay colouring, chestnut coat and black ears, tail, mane and forearms feathered in black. He had one white blaze on his muzzle, and a pair of brown eyes that sparkled as I spoke the words of formal acknowledgement given by my father for the occasion.

"Welcome Prince Taliskan. You are accepted as ambassador to the court of the Horse Kings, and your safety is ours."

I wondered if anyone had ever said no to an ambassador, especially a royal prince of the blood, but the formality mattered I guessed. And the last part was key; I was under their protection even if we were at war. Thankfully, my father had no plans for that just yet. I should be safely home before the dam broke.

I had spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in frustrated solitude. My request for a personal audience had been denied most politely for now, and I was left in quarters prepared for me in the palace. Wandering around them I had to both admire and feel a little ashamed by the horses attention to detail.

My own quarters had been prepared in loving, or perhaps mocking, homage to the Palace of the Moon in my home city. The plain white walls were draped in more tapestries than I could count, the ceiling decked out in gilt, and by the gods there were even incense burners in every room. That was one addition I was determined to remove as soon as politically feasible. I had become mercifully used to a lack of extraneous scent on my journey here and the resumption of a riotous nasal assault was proving quite nauseating.

I was just preparing to be more than a little demanding on the question of dinner when a stallion of the Guard appeared at the door to my quarters and informed me that the King would see me now if I would be so kind as to follow him. That I did, all the while trying not to stare at the flowing naked back covered in muscle that rippled like a birds wing as he trotted ahead of me down the corridor, nor the enticing mounds of his rump as it moved in graceful beat to the rhythm of his hooves. His tail seemed to mock me though, held high right in front of me, swishing daintily from side to side as if emphasising the attractions of his ass. All I could see for now was an outline under a while loincloth but it was enough to make me salivate in frustration.

It was with surprise that I realised I was not being taken to the formal public chambers, but instead to the private chambers. My blood boiled in anticipation, realising this was indeed an honour and a good sign by all measures. To my knowledge my predecessor had been kept to the public halls for his entire time in the palace. And yet here I was on my first day...

While I knew I should be wary at such a sign of favour, I could not help smile. The insufferable ambassador Grulik would be mortified, and that would please me no end.

My Guard led me finally to a room that appeared to be set in one outer wall of the palace, judging by the windows looking over the great valley of the Horse below the citadel. I could see lights down there where herds congregated in towns below the great city, and I knew the view would be spectacular in the morning. For now, the sight was covered in a deep silver light as the moon rode high in a cloudless evening sky and filtered through the windows into this sparsely furnished room.

Ahhh the moon...

I knew as I approached that this night would be a full moon. It could not be helped, but still, for my kind, this was an ominous portent. It was also something of a distraction; like many of my kind, I found the Wolf's Companion called to me on these nights. Exactly how it called to me was an additional complication I didn't want to contemplate.

The Guard stallion trotted to a large set of doors set in the outside wall and pulled them open. They proved to be a large wooden screen, and when removed, showed an outside terrace with lights and open fires. I was guided outside into the summer evening, my nostrils picking up so many scents now in the absence of the artificial coverage of incense.

Wood fire and smoke. I could see the cause for that of course, several fire pits had been set and burned deep with red coals giving out delicious heat that felt good on my fur even on a summer evening. Up here on the mountain the citadel was cooler than the surrounding plain, especially at night, and the wind had a chill about it that alternated strokes of cold against my fur with bursts of warmth from the fires. It felt like being alternately slapped and licked, a sensation I had to admit I knew a bit about and it made me shudder at the memory.

I could also scent food, and against my expectations of a purely vegetarian diet at the mercy of the horse lords, I found I could scent roast venison and my lips smacked in anticipation almost before I set my paws on the tiled pavement of the terrace.

There was another scent too. A rich scent, powerful, or perhaps a group of scents. They filled my nostrils too and made my ears twitch and other parts of me beside. I stood a moment sniffing that scent, wondering, letting its texture and flavour course down my throat like the fine wine it resembled.

A little late I realised the King was looking at me. He was seated on a plain wooden chair, with a table beside him loaded with food and drink, and with a single chair set across from his nearest me. He was watching me, eagerly, his eyes twinkling, and I could not resist blushing under his gaze though I knew it was a sign of weakness.

"Hail Prince, my apologies for not being able to see you sooner, will you join me for a late supper and perhaps some conversation?"

I took the proffered seat gratefully and gracefully, while taking the opportunity to survey my surroundings. Four members of the Guard were with us, one huge Clydesdale stallion who looked older and bigger than the rest and who had the most gold on him I had ever seen. One Arabian with a white coat, taller almost than the Clyde, with shining green eyes and a scar on his chest that ran from his left nipple to this navel. One Palomino, the smallest of the four but broad in the shoulders, with blue eyes and a tendency to toss his mane regularly. And one barely more than a colt it seemed, taller than the palomino, still growing into what would probably prove a magnificent stallion's body, and the prettiest I had seen. He was a Gypsy Vanner with chestnut coat and big brown eyes and long flowing feathering and mane. The Vanner it seemed would be serving us the food.

"You like the look of my honour guard for you tonight Prince?"

I stammered and eventually nodded, cursing under my breath. Clearly I was not much at clandestine examination.

The dinner proved both courteous and delicious. While I was fed whatever I wanted, the stallion kept himself to carrots, wild greens, and apples for afters. He also went easy on the wine, and it was a little late that I realised I was being set up. He had a habit of raising his cup to those soft reasonable lips and sipping just a little when I took great gulps as was my wont. Outside my father's gaze I was enjoying the simple pleasure of dining my own way, without his disapproval for once. It proved my undoing.

Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps it was the moon. Perhaps it was the stallions.

Well, after all, perhaps it was me. It seemed my hosts had me at a disadvantage. That much was apparent as soon as the tone of the meal moved from studied bonhomie to more unbuttoned informality. I was learning the arts of diplomacy, and finding myself wanting.

The first hint was a wink from the King, and a sly smile.

"So Prince. Tell me, what do you think of my stallions?"

Under his goading I gave them all a good look up and down. With the wine and the effect of the moon coursing through my veins, I let my gaze linger this time. The scent came again, and I sniffed luxuriously as if smelling them with my gaze. Was that where the maddening scent came from?

"Beautiful my lord."

"Oh come now, I know you can do better than that Taliskan. Our agents tell me you are something of a noted scholar, even a poet. Give me your words poet, or I shall think the hospitality of your house somewhat lacking."

Provoked, I slammed the wine down and let out a soft howl.

"The Clydesdale looks a mighty warrior, with wisdom and strength to match. One who would break the walls of a keep with his sword thrusts and yet be gentle as a lamb if needed. The Arabian bears a wound that would kill a lesser warrior as if it is a mere scratch, and has the eye of an assassin and the hands of a scribe. The Paolmino looks like he speaks little except with his sword, and the youngster is the most beautiful equine I have ever seen and looks as if he would break into giggles at a moment's notice. And all I imagine could kill a platoon of wolves, if commanded. And all are beautiful, as I said."

The King nodded, seemingly pleased, as I drank deeply of the wine. A rich earthy vintage, it was going straight to my head but it was too late to halt the headlong charge down the mountain it seemed.

"You are perceptive too Prince. The Clyde's name is Voltheran, and he is the oldest member of my Guard. The law requires they retire at thirty-two, and my stallion here is almost of age. At that time many take a mare as mate, and many a member of my Guard is the colt of a stallion who was once a member of my father's Guard. Tradition lies heavy for a member of the herds. He is a leader of a cohort of the guard in battle, and my most dependable. He is also gentle with the wounded, and gentle with the new recruits."

"The Arabian is Dokkirin, and he is renowned for killing our enemies leaders. He seeks out the enemy commander when battle is joined and will not rest until he is dead. He has killed twenty-seven so far. He got the wound from a minotaur, one of the life guard of Lord Rollan of Palas. Allegedly the best warrior of the Palenes, he did not survive the encounter."

"The Palomino is Horrin, and at twenty-two a relatively experienced soldier. He speaks little but sings like a bird in camp, and for me. He sang for me just before you came Prince, and I think you would have appreciated it."

"The last is our youngest, Kastel. In fact, he is only just of age and joined the Guard a mere two months ago. Our trainers are trying to temper his slightly silly nature but seem incapable. He is a joker, even when he kills, and especially when he fucks."

I choked a little on the wine then. My face felt heat, and not from the fires.

"Err...my lord?"

"Ahhh Taliskan, the amount I know about you could fill a room in the royal library, and the amount you know about us could not fill one page of one book. I know you, wolf. I know you well. Tell me, what do you smell?"

He was staring at me now, the brown eyes suddenly hard as steel. I looked around warily, but the Guard seemed as impervious as before, standing casually, bored and untroubled. Their ears gave it away too, alert but not alarmed. Always with the horses it was the ears.

I relaxed a fraction, but only a fraction, and contemplated the question.

Determined to give as good as I got, I watched the stallion, eye to eye, and sniffed. My fangs bared, I let the ocean of scent wash over me, drawing it in, trying to catalogue it as much as possible. I reached for my own library of scent drawn from a life my father would never approve of, and made the matches I had failed to before.

"Musk...stallion musk. Rich and potent, sheaths full of sweat and sex..."

"Go on..."

"And...cum!" It came out as a sudden exclamation, though I knew it was there subconsciously. My mind had rejected the information, until that moment. "Yes...stallion cum. From multiple stallions..."

The King was smiling now and nodding.

"I am going to show you how much I respect you Prince, by letting you in on a secret. One I think you will enjoy. Voltheran?"

His gaze went to the Clydesdale, obvious leader of the Guards tonight. The mighty Clyde trotted over to his master with what I realised was a look of pure delight on his face. He had no eyes for me, though as he moved, I noticed the other three change places to screen me effectively with their reduced number. The King was sure, but not foolish it seemed, or at least his guard were.

"My beautiful stallion, please service your king."

As I stared, spellbound, the huge stallion got on his knees, and his big hands easily lifted the tunic from the King's lap. He revealed a stallion cock, already erect, thick and flared, the tip leaking fluid and the shaft already slick with liquid. The Guard bent his muzzle forward, sniffed his sovereign's scrotum, nuzzled up the length of his cock, and then opened his muzzle to engulf the King's flared cock head and began giving him a deeply arousing pleasuring accompanied by nickers and whinnies and moans of delight.

All the while the King kept his gaze firmly on me. First my eyes, then my crotch, then back. And the eyes sparkled.

"Voltheran, take off your loincloth. Show our guest your rump for me."

The stallion obeyed without hesitation. I saw him untie the belt holding up the simple cloth, without even breaking the rhythm on his lord's erection, and toss it to one side. I saw the huge mounds of muscle then, his perfect ass bunching as he moved, and then he slid his knees wider and lifted his tail to gift me a view of a perfect stallion perineum and a fat pucker and a pair of the largest testicles I had ever seen.

I also had a view of the trickle of stallion cum dripping down the velvet line of his taint. And I had few illusions where that cum came from. I gasped and gripped my goblet.

"Yes well done Prince. The stallions chosen to be here to guard me in my private chambers tonight are also my lovers for the night. Before you came, I mounted each of them, even the mighty Voltheran here, and filled them with royal seed. That is what you smell wolf, the scent of stallions in rut. And it happens every night."

"Oh by the Gods..." I could not help the exclamation from my muzzle. If my cock could have made it, it would, and it still threatened to burst through my breeches.

"This is the secret of the Royal Guard of the Horse Lords my little wolfling. Every colt spends his time as a cadet in the Royal school. Only the very best are chosen to join the guard, a signal honour for any stallion. On the day of their coming of age, they join the guard, and on that night, I mount them for the first time. All must be virgins, and I am their first lover, bringer of their first climax with another male. Every single one of my Guard has had me as their first, and every night, I take at least four of them to reinforce the bonds."

I could not contain a whimper at the thought of what I had missed earlier now. The king bedding that massive Clyde...or the youngster, the pretty Gypsy Vanner. All of them, in an orgy of stallion mating.

"Every night?" I could scarce believe it myself.

"Yes. The night I cannot satisfy four of my stallions, is the night I am no longer fit to be King. In the main barracks, the rest of the guard not on duty spend the night fucking, pleasuring, riding a wave of potent musk and cum and the screams of pleasure are so wild no house can be built within a league of the barracks for the noise. But here, a special four along with any new recruit get to be loved by their King. The bonds of the herd are reinforced, not mere loyalty, or fear like most Kings. But genuine love, the brotherhood of stallions."

"Ahhhh..."

I felt my cock twitch, the scent now overpowering me with the knowledge of where it came. The Clyde was still slowly suckling his King's cock, loving, gentle as he said. And the trickle of his lord's seed had reached his scrotum, turning the dark leather of his skin a shiny white in the moonlight.

"Do you remember your first cock Prince?"

"My swordmaster, Vokhal."

I realised too late what I had said, and what I had admitted. The King just nodded, and rested a hand on the Clydesdale's head to stroke his mane lovingly.

"We wondered what happened to him. Poor Vokhal, a worthy tutor. He was a formidable warrior in his time, we once toyed with the idea of offering him a place here to teach his skills. You must have picked up some skills from him at least, apart from spreading your pucker to take his knot. I know you will remember him wolf; the feel of his cock, the scent of his body, the touch of his paws. The first always lingers. That is part of the bond I share with my stallions; all of them remember their first time, their first experience of that bliss, and I gave it to them. Do you miss him Prince? Miss that touch..."

I hung my head now. It was apparently useless to fight it. My body shook with the emotion, and remembered pleasures.

"But he wasn't the only one to disappear was he wolfling...a Mintoaur from Pallas, I heard. Big, good natured, a trader and not much older than you. Popular with the ladies that bull. But apparently, he had a taste for your body, and your ass. How were you caught?"

"My mother's maid found us in a summer house by the river. I thought we were safe, but she had come to find something left behind by a guest. Instead she found us with my bull inside me and me begging for it harder. I tried to get her to stop but she ran and told."

The stallion nodded and hissed, the actions of the Clyde building his pleasure steadily.

"Ahhh Prince...I heard your father had him castrated in the palace square as a warning. And he made you watch."

I was shaking all over now, reliving the moment. The screams, and the sight of the hot irons as they did their terrible deed.

"And he sent you here to get you away from the scandal. A bad choice from your father; but he always was a stupid wolf."

"We are not so weak as you think horse!" I blurted it out through a haze of tears and anger. Mostly for my father, but also for this stallion and his almost mocking smile as he took pleasure in the Clydesdale's muzzle tight in front of me. How much I ached...

"Oh, if you are talking about the army you are gathering by the gates of Madalan for next summer, guess again Prince. Your mercenaries from Pallas will not be coming. Strange how castrating one of their own tends to make them less amenable to bribery; or perhaps, more amenable to bribery from a different quarter."

I half stood now, my tail wagging furiously, eyes wide as the stallion stared back sardonically. The Clyde stopped his loving for a moment and watched me with eyes full of both compassion and a desire to crush if such were possible.

"Wolf, hear me. We are not so unalike, you and I. And I can make you a deal."

"What deal?"

The Guardsman stood on his hooves now, and his fellows joined him in a line beside their King. All looked pleased now, smiling, nudging. At a gesture, they all stripped of their loincloths, and I got a view of perfection, four muscled stallions in a row. As I gasped I saw them all drop, the thick pink flares poking from wide open sheathlips as four stallion cocks came out to play.

I gasped then, seeing a final secret. One last piece of decoration; each flare was pierced by a ring of gold, shining in the light of the fires like a little candle.

"Each stallion gets his ring on his first night. After I break in his tailhole, his fellow stallions kiss him all over as I drive a hot needle through his flare and mark him with the royal symbol. Then when they perform acts of valor on the battlefield, they accumulate more gold as a mark of my respect. It forms part of their dowry when they leave the Guard to take a mate, but the ring remains. They are always mine, wolf, and they are reminded every time they fuck and every time they hold their cocks for pleasuring. "

I swallowed hard, staring at the four huge erections. The stallions were openly stroking now, and I could see slick precum drooling from their tips. My tongue circled my lips as if tasting the sweet fluid, my eyes drawn to the four shining rings. I coughed and took a drink.

"W...what deal?"

"You are the youngest son of a failing lord. Your father will be usurped soon, by your older brothers, or by one of the barons. When your attempt at invasion fails spectacularly, that will be the end of it."

"So what then, you will let us invade?" I was yelling, snarling, my fangs bared but in truth I felt powerless like I had few times before. Perhaps the only worse was sitting by my father while my beloved bull was tortured, his screams of horrified pain not the worst for me, but instead his cries of my name as the gelders approached. I could still hear them at night in my dreams, along with the sizzle of the hot iron striking home on his scrotum, and the laughter from the wolves around me as they watched him tormented beyond reason.

The King shook his head ruefully.

"No Prince. I will make you King."

I collapsed in the chair again, momentarily dumbstruck.

"I will help you with money and contacts, and our agents in your city, to build your power base. When the time comes, you can succeed your father, and establish your kingdom as an ally of the Horses, and together we will dominate the lands, you and I."

It was too much to take in, I picked up the wine cup and drained it, the sudden influx of alcohol making me gag. I wiped a paw across my muzzle and looked up wondering. They were still there, and still smiling.

"Why would you do this..."

"Our kingdoms are the strongest. Together, we can rule. Apart, we can beat each other to a standstill and others will have their fill of us. Your father does not understand that, but you do. And you understand other things..."

"How would you do this!"

"Wolfling, I may not have a palace covered in every type of gaudy trapping known to the Gods. But that does not mean I am poor. I spend my riches wisely; on my stallions, as you have seen. On diplomacy too. I can buy the wolves I need for you, easily."

"And what would happen to me?"

The four horses approached me now. I felt hands grip my shoulders and suddenly I was standing. I wondered for a second if there was some treachery planned, and so when the touch came I instinctively recoiled at first. But only at first. Then the hands went to work and I relaxed with a sigh.

"While you are here wolf, you can have this, every night. My stallions in your bed, without worry. They are part of my wealth too. When you return to your city, some can go with you to join my embassy there, and be your companions. We know you, Taliskan. We know what you want Prince."

"Ohhhh..."

My eyes closed, taking in the sensations. I had not been touched since my bull, Brannik. It had been too long. Hands went to work on my body, one cupping my scrotum through my breeches, one rubbing my chest, another just under my tail, and then I felt my muzzle gripped and drawn to another.

Soft lips rubbed mine. I opened my muzzle hungry as a starving wolf, my tongue out. I tasted stallion, and felt an answering tongue and then we kissed and I was devoured in ways I thought only a predator could. The muzzle on mine was broad, demanding, the tongue furrowing into my throat the lips biting and mauling and I felt an ecstasy of heaven.

Though I could feel my clothes being taken from me I did not care, even raising my arms to let my jacket and tunic be taken away. I stood naked and yet burning with heat, and my cock ached like never before.

Finally I opened my eyes. The King stood there watching, and admiring, his cock still stiff and exposed as he stroked the shaft slowly. Such open sensuality made me cry out almost as much as the feel of a rough stallion hand on my ass, sliding under my tail to spread my cheeks and press against my pucker.

"Tell me wolf. Which of my stallions do you like the most? Which two would you like first?"

I did not have to think much surprisingly.

"Valrethan and...Kastel."

The King smiled at me and nodded.

"An excellent choice ambassador, and a beautiful contrast. Youth and experience."

I had also noted the size of the endowment the Clydesdale was sporting, and the deliciously mischievous smile of the young Vanner, but that explanation was as good as any.

At my words, the disappointed two went to their master's side instead. I got a piercing look from the Arabian, and he seemed to take it a little personally. The Palomino just looked unconcerned. They had different business to attend to now, and I watched as they both knelt for their King and began to pleasure him, the Arabian suckling on the tip of his cock, the Palomino nuzzling his scrotum. My eyes widened seeing his tongue snake under that magnificent sac and lap at the stallion's anus, while the King shifted in his seat to allow better access for his Guardsman. Hands reached out and lifted his legs high, opening a royal cleft to long pleasuring licks as the King let his head lay back in undiluted bliss.

I felt a presence of my own then. The hefty figure of the Clydesdale it seemed, and he stood behind me, his arms wrapped round my chest. I could feel his organ against my back, the golden ring rasping over my spine and making me shiver, his testicles resting on the base of my tail and his chest against my fur trapping the twitching mass of his endowment between us. His hooves pressed on my paws, spreading my legs and I obeyed eagerly. A muzzle found the spot where my shoulder met my neck and nibbled so beautifully I let out a howl and shook like a flag in the winds.

The Vanner was before me, eyes sparkling, and he gripped my cheeks and pulled me into a kiss. His hands moved over me then, across my shoulders, down my flanks, and finally he found my cock. One fingerhoof flicked my tip, already leaking, and I gasped. Fingertips ran down my length, over agonised nerve endings on fire, until he found my sheath and gripped the fuzzy skin and slid it slowly backwards and forwards as I humped into his hand with wonton need.

He broke the kiss, leaving me disappointed, but not for long. That pretty stallion was on his knees soon, and I felt his breath on my leaking tip. Soft lips rubbed my head, and I tried to thrust into his maw but he gripped me tight and stopped me with a chuckle. Then he finally opened wide and slid down my red raw shaft just as the big stud behind me slid a finger into my pucker to the hilt.

I saw the King watching me. His grin of triumph was maddening, but I was too lost to care. He gestured to the Arabian, and I watched in fascination as the tall stallion stood and straddled his sovereign's lap, stopping only once to look over his shoulder at me with smouldering eyes, and then sat down until the huge flared organ pressed to his fat pucker. I watched, eyes wide, body in a torment of need, as the Guardsman lifted his tail to let me see it all, the long darker expanse of his taint, the muscled ring of his anus already leaking fluid from an earlier fucking, now pressed to a thick flare. The Palomino was not idle, and he leaned in to guide his King's cock to it's target, holding the thick organ upright against the waiting pucker. With his back to me now I watched in an erotic wonder as the proud stallion lowered himself onto the royal cock and I saw it disappear into his ass one perfect inch at a time until he was hilted and let out a deep neigh of satisfaction.

The stallion lifted up almost immediately. His companion used the opportunity to lick, over his master's balls, up the invading shaft of his cock, over the now stretched ring of the Arabian's anus. I had never seen such completely abandoned sex between males before, proud and demanding, and it made my own cock twitch almost as much as the attentions of the pretty Vanner on my length. A long slow ride began, with the Arabian's muscles bunching and relaxing as he rode his King's cock, the Palomino using his muzzle and his hands to pleasure them both. I could see the King's arm moving now in a steady rhythm, stroking his lover's length as the Arab rode his lap. Their cries and whinnies made my ears tingle.

"Time for your ride wolf." It was a deep rumble with words, and it filled my ear as well. The Clydesdale had spoken.

Before I knew it I was on my knees. The Vanner guided my muzzle to his length, a perfect pink and black mottled shaft of flesh. I spent an age examining, learning his touch, enjoying his whinnies of pleasure. When I touched his flare, I could feel it swell, hear him groan, and watch his piss slit suddenly open to emit a single drop of clear ecstacy. I played with the ring, feeling the contrast of metal and flesh. It was warm from being inside his sheath, and I licked it tasting gold, then stallion as I pressed my tongue to his piss slit. I bent in to sniff, then lick his balls, and his hand rubbed over my head in encouragement as I opened wide to take his flare and feel the touch of stallion on my lips and tongue. He did not thrust though, waiting for me to set the pace.

The big Clyde was more demanding, and more forceful. I had hoped as much when I chose him, admiring his thick set body, the broad belly and rump of a male in his prime. I wondered how many times he had been fucked by his lord, and how many of his fellow stallions he had fucked. How many of them would have felt the gush of his cum as I was going to soon...

"Such a beautiful wolfling..."

His words made my heart sing. I lifted my tail in appreciation, while his hands roamed over my rump and between my cheeks. Then he gripped them hard, all his strength there in an iron grip, and he spread me so wide I almost screamed just at the feeling of my anus stretched to breaking point even without being filled. I felt hot breath then, bathing my hole and my sensitive taint. I knew how good it felt, I had loved it when my bull just lapped at me there and teased my cock. The feel of stallion tongue was different, rougher, harder. He didn't lap at my taint, he rasped and I pushed back to demand more of the same.

Then he pressed his lips to my pucker and drove that fat tongue into me so deep in one punishing thrust. I cried out then, I was ashamed to say. A cry of surprise, some pain, and a lot of need. He rasped into me deep and out, fucking me and not softly, lapping deep into my body and touching everything, my throbbing nut, my well stretched tunnel, an aching ring. I was eaten out, just as the Vanner thrust his hips a little and buried his length to the medial in my muzzle and I tasted a gush of colt precum in my throat.

I knew I was leaking so much. My cock hummed with the static electricity of near orgasm, held by the physical force of these two right at the edge and yet not permitted to fall. It hurt so good. I craved so much.

The invading tongue left me, as did the cock. I was panting, like a wolf after an unsuccessful hunt, dripping saliva and precum to the tiled floor in floods.

He was over me now, the great bulk of the Clydesdale allowing him to cover my body with his, chest to my back as I lay there on all fours, his thighs spreading mine, and his hands now clasped in my paws holding them to the ground. I felt his muzzle on my ear, kissing and licking.

"The King likes to hear this..."

I did not know what he meant until I felt it. The flare against my wet pucker, the gold ring harsh against my sensitive ring of flesh, the moment arrived.

The Vanner lifted my chin to look in his eyes. He had the glazed look of a youth in heat, ready to fuck, but also a loving gaze. I held those eyes finding comfort even as I felt my poor anus split in two and I let out a wild howl to the moon as the pain built to a crescendo and the burning mass of a stallion drove into my guts.

When it stopped, and my vision returned, I was still staring into those eyes, which were alive with laughter as well as compassion.

"You wolves are a little tight for this. Stallions are better built for the ride."

"Oh Gods...I know it..." I was grateful for the interlude. If he had begun to thrust immediately, I might have passed out. Instead he held me, and I held his hands with claws digging into his flesh, and he wiggled that muscled ass and opened me wider in easy stages until I felt his balls against my flesh and his flare buried in my soul and the ring of his King touching me inside in ways that made me weep.

Suddenly, his body moved, but not as I expected. His hands pulled back, taking mine with them, and lifting my body up. I was kneeling, on my haunches, seated in his lap. He was kneeling behind me then, my back pressed tight to his belly and my tail pressed between us. I rested my head against his chest, feeling held safe and secure. I had never felt owned like this by a lover, so completely.

The young Vanner bent forward then, and I had a perfect view of his body stretched out with every muscle defined and taut. He bent to my length and licked, taking the drooling precum from my tip as I writhed at the sensation. Then he engulfed my length in one easy motion while his hands stroked my sheath, pulling it back finally to reveal a knot in the final stages of arousal.

My back arched in wonder as his lips went on, suckling over my knot, and his heaten muzzle engulfed me even there, the most beautiful sensation in the world. Then I found an even better one; his tongue slid out and inside my sheath, licking me in my most private place just as the Clyde flexed his hips and drove a fraction deeper in my ass.

His hands were on my thighs. Mine were on his, claws extended, and I drove them in uncaring as the sensations in my cock and ass flowed free, building to a thunder in my belly that grew until I exploded in the willing muzzle of my young stallion lover and my body trembled with the ache of an orgasm that emptied my world.

When it was over, the Vanner was nuzzling my scrotum, and the Clyde was still gently bucking into my depths. I opened my eyes in a daze and looked up a little, over the body of my young stallion, to the King. There things were reaching their own climax, and as I watched I saw his testicles draw up tight, all the while licked by the Palomino, and his long groomed tail between his legs suddenly flicked and a wild whinny from the Arabian was lost in his lord's muzzle as they kissed through a wild orgasm that continued until I could see thick spunk dripping from the stallion's distended tailhole to coat his King's sac with a tribute of pure pleasure. The Palomino did his best to lick ever last drop of the nectar.

My muzzle filled with that scent again. Raw cum, so thick, so rich, so powerful. Scent of males in heat, overpowering my senses.

I was on my back in a moment, the cool tiles against my fur. The Clyde had thrown me there in one grunting movement, like a sack of wheat. His power flowed through his body and into mine, his cock still buried to the hilt. I felt my legs lifted, right over his shoulders, hindpaws pointing to the moon, my traitorous companion. When it ran full in the sky like this I knew I had to have my fill of it, and be filled so good. It was a full moon when I first had my bull, bent over a barrel in a warehouse in the palace basement. His hips pounded me like some machine, over and over, driving the cum from my churning balls until there was none left.

And yet he never took me as thoroughly as this stallion. I faced a muzzle pressed to mine, a look of pure lust and power in those eyes, and he rubbed his lips on mine as he poised for the gallop.

"So ambassador...will you join us?"

"I...I...AHHHHHHHHHH!"

My cry was lost in a kiss as he thrust into me, slamming against my body, the slap of hips on ass driving me into the ground. I was taken so deep, so terribly deep. A stallion flare aches, it rasps, like the digging of a wound and yet also piling on the soothing pleasure as it pulls back. I felt it then, the alternating agony and ecstacy of penetration and withdrawl in fast, deep thrusts. I was totally open to him, my body his to conquer.

My hindpaws curled in impending pleasures. The ride went on, harder and harder. His hands dug into my shoulders, and I dug my claws into his broad ass. I felt liquid, rich blood on my paws, knowing I had raked him so hard in my agonised pleasure I penetrated flesh as he penetrated mine. I brought one clawed paw to my muzzle and licked and he kissed me tasting the taste of his own blood. I became wild even as I was tamed, my muzzle finding his chest, his fat nipples, and biting down on the left one hard enough to tear flesh and drive an incisor clear through. Sweet blood gushed into my muzzle, and I heard him grunt and whinny and then he merely fucked me harder as I howled.

A muzzle nibbled my ear again.

"Will you join us wolfling, and have this every night for the rest of your life?"

"YES!"

I screamed it, over and over. Yes to these pleasures. Yes to my future. Even yes to my treachery. In my mind it was merely reasonable; who could resist this kind of diplomacy?

His body tensed against mine, and he drove his hips in a final spurt. Short thrusts, fast and shallow, rapping my nut over and over. I screamed and shot an ocean of wolfcum on his chest and belly just as he unloaded into me. I felt the gush of heat as his spunk filled my hole, overflowing from my sore pucker to drip over my tail. I was marked now, owned by the horse, the stench I had noticed now part of my scent too, deep in my soul.

He kissed me then, a kiss of belonging. When he pulled from my ravished hole, I was grateful it was the smaller Vanner to take his place. Kastel knelt at my groin, his hands gentle where the Clyde had been rough. He lifted one leg only over his shoulder, my groin spread wide, and eased into my dripping hole.

Valrethan was not done yet though. He lay beside me, muzzle to muzzle, and stroked my still hard cock and knot as his younger companion took my ass. Fingers explored my sheath then, sliding under stretched skin, taking my musk to taste before kissing again and I tasted myself on a stallion while another drove deep in my tunnel. Dimly I could hear the other group at their play, the Palomino having his turn with the King. The sounds of wild stallion rut were a pleasant companion to my own pleasure. Even better was the sight of the young stallion as he fucked into me, his chest and abdomen straight and tall, muscles standing out, his long curly mane flowing over his shoulders, and his eyes filled with joy.

Back in my rooms I could not sleep. My hole burned, and all I could do was finger my leaking pucker and recoil at the pain and yet want the burn of rasping stallion flesh more. When I could stand it no more I went to the door, finding a stallion on guard. A shire of some sort, his eyes glistened as he watched me, tongue licking grinning lips as he opened his nostrils to draw in the scent of me, probably lighting up with the scent of stallion cum as obvious as the morning sun.

"I need...I mean...I want...I mean, your King mentioned...I..."

He looked at his companion and nickered once. Then he followed me inside.

I lay back lost, wanting everything, exhausted, craving, almost crying. He seemed to know what to do.

Undoing his belt, he let the loincloth fall nonchalantly to the floor with its sword and dagger. His stallionhood slid forth, the sheathlips opening obscenely wide to allow the mottled length to the air until with a few casual strokes it rose to full erection and slapped his belly.

I lay back, needing, my head propped on the pillow, my cock still hard and leaking as much as my pained hole.

He straddle me, surprising me totally, expecting him to grip my ankles. Instead he shuffled forward, knees well spread, until his ass was presented to my muzzle for approval. One hand rubbed my ears, and I bent forward to lick. He was so tight, I could not get inside, but it did not seem to matter. His taint was long and soft, like kid leather, with a forest of the sweetest soft little hairs to tickle my nose. I licked every single one and suckled each fat nut and used my paws to work his anus, spreading it with ever more fingers until I had four inside him driving in and I could feel the throbbing mass of his nut.

As easily as he straddled my muzzle, he now shuffled back until I felt the tip of my cock against his pucker. Hands gripped my hips, and he gave me a grin and a wink.

"AHHHHH!"

I felt the true beauty of my first stallion hole. The heat, like molten honey. The tightness like a vice. It hurt it felt so good. I lay back, and let him ride me, thrusting my hips up to meet his downward plunge and gripping his horsehood in an eager paw. He bent forward to kiss my muzzle and lick my chest.

"The herd always knows wolfling...now, see if you can tie me. I've never had a knot before, and I think this is a form of combat I would like to learn..."

I took a certain satisfaction in watching his whole body tense, and hearing his whinny of pain and surprise. He opened his eyes though and they were wild. I thought for a moment I was to be killed, but not that way, it seemed.

"Keep thrusting wolfling!"

Oh God, the feeling of thrusting my knot into that tight heaven. I think that was the moment I lost it entirely. I had promised myself with the King I would only pretend, that one day I would renege. But not now. Not now.

Fucking my knot into a wild stallion warrior was the last straw. I broke, even as my cum flooded his bowels and he shot his load over my chest. When he lay in my arms, still seated on my cock, the knot jammed full in his ass, and he kissed me and grinned.

"Not bad wolfling...not bad."

How could I resist an army like this?

****

I stood in my father's audience chamber. My nostrils flared, aware of the scent again. I had definitely not missed it, and now it was back, I felt vaguely disgusted. I knew what scent I preferred.

The old wolf seemed preoccupied. I had a vague idea why. Both my elder brothers were notably absent, and the air of restrained terror was obvious as the incense.

"Well Prince, it seems your time in the Horselands has been useful. You look more confident than I ever remember my son."

I smiled for him and bowed, muttering as I did. The anger was kept in check. I had learned, at the hooves of some very good masters. And now it was time to put my training into practice.

"Thank you my lord. I am eager to serve."

"Well, that makes a pleasant change Taliskan."

I let the insult go like so much wind.

"A report my Lord?"

"Yes son, but first, what of those horses who accompanied you?"

"A gesture of friendship from the Horse King, father. To ensure my safe passage, they are joining the staff of the ambassador here."

"King Calathenis is a devious soul son."

"But wolves are more cunning still father..."

I gave him a smile, and he chuckled. The stallion was right, he was a fool. But not for much longer.

"Tell me son, what is that scent..."

I was a little perturbed then. I knew what I smelt of; my last night on the road I had enjoyed the services of my three companions. I had asked for the best, and gotten it. Valrethan, the Clyde, Kastel, the young Vanner, and the Shire stallion Pomonis who had given me his tailhole that first night. My pucker still twitched at that, reliving the thrust and parry of three horsecocks into my depths. I could not shut my hole even now, and the rich river of cum stained my breeches as I rode much to the amusement of my equine companions. I had forgotten that my father could smell a cockroach at a thousand paces.

"A scent from the Horselands, father. You will become used to it."

"Indeed young wolf. And did you learn anything else in the enemy's city or were you too busy drinking and whoring with dockworkers?"

His eyes were angry. I met them with stoic calm. This was the new me; one who would have the courage to find my bull and beg his forgiveness, to take on my brothers, and to rule. Behold your son, father.

"Diplomacy. I learned the art of diplomacy, father."

"Diplomacy? Hrumpf...well, perhaps you may not be as useless as you seemed after all."

I let him have a small smile. We would see how useful I was, when I met baron G'tharn tonight. It would begin tonight, for good or ill.

But not before I had some more of what I craved. And doing it in my father's hall was the sweetest taste of all.

My paw went to my breeches and adjusted a little awkwardly. I was still getting used to the feel.

On my last night with the Horse Lords, I had lain on my back with the King after my ass had been filled to breaking point. He chanted a prayer as he held a heated needle of steel, while my stallion companions held me in their grasp and soothed my fears with their bodies.

Valrethan was inside me, his cock buried to the hilt, holding me as he had the first time we fucked, on my haunches sitting back on his lap. The others held my arms, so I could not thrash about, and kissed my chest and my muzzle. Then the King drove his point through the flesh of my cock head and I screamed even as I came from a last thrust against my nut.

Now my red sensitive wolfcock bore an unfamiliar token; a golden ring, marked with the symbol of the horse. I would enjoy driving it into my brothers' uptight anuses when I was king. They had enjoyed watching my bull's castration so much, I thought it would be fitting.

I smiled at my father and bowed.

"Diplomacy my Lord. And I am looking forward to being useful."