Consort
"This was Corrias’Anorth, oldest and most enchanted city in the known world. It was the heart of the Annorithian Empire; the most corrupt, hedonistic, and opulent city in the known world. " Follow a day in the life of Arris, a red deer consort to an Elven Lady; as he is kidnapped, debased a little, rescued.
First of all, as always, thanks to everyone for reading, fav'ing, voting, and commenting! Here is a fantasy tale that I cooked up with a lot more attention to world-building. Super special thanks go to my buddy who helped with editing, and by helped, I mean resurrected. If you enjoyed, and if you would like to see more, let me know! Minor Disclaimer: Consort in this setting is more like concubine than a married partner; I can't take the word concubine seriously.
* * *
I stirred awake amidst the silken sheets and soft pillows of an opulent bed. From within the nebulous miasma of blankets, in various shades of purple, pink, and red, my cervine form flaunted itself with a languid stretch.
“Fair morning, Consort." Someone spoke through the translucent curtains of the bed. “Breakfast, as normal, should it please you."
The voice was that of Ashale, a maid of the Evengrowth Manor. I could make out the lean form of the doe through the drapes of the bed. We both served the Lady Filina, but unlike me, she stayed at the Manor.
“Thank you, Ashale." My deep voice carried even as soft spoken as I often was.
I disentangled myself from the various sheets and blankets, picking more than one from my antlers with care. My mistress insisted on decorating me with gold and silver and gems, hanging from my antlers. And further decorative excesses throughout her abodes created many snaring threats.
Ashale seemed amused by my careful extrication from the bed. She'd left the silver tray of breakfast on a small table, one of many throughout the room, and stood waiting on me. Her amusement faded and she struggled to not react as I strode from the bed naked.
I smirked when I heard the little hitch in her breath and noticed the way she dusted the front of her uniform with her hands. It was a nervous motion, something to keep her hands busy, but also something subconscious, making her a little more presentable.
I emerged from the annoying curtains of the extravagant bed a tall, handsome, and lean stag. My coat was a rustic brown and covered most of my body. There were streaks and patches of light cream in places. My abdomen, groin, and sheath were lightest in colour. The expanse of my inner thighs and the curves of my tight ass were a more subtle shade of cream.
Naturally her eyes caught the sway of my heavy sheath and the large balls beneath, moving with my thighs. I stood to take breakfast, picking at the assortment of fruits and oats that constituted my morning diet. It took me some time to notice my positioning. Ashale was all but transfixed, and I remembered how ingrained it was to present myself to anyone's eyes, especially while naked. I spent much of my time naked.
“Any news of the mistress?" I queried.
It was conversation, distracting, I hoped. Before My body decided to present more of itself to her wide-eyed, blushing form.
As her eyes drifted away from my naked form, she shook her head. “No news to share, Consort. Is there something else I can fetch you this morning?" She asked, routinely.
“You could call me Arris, dear Ashale. I do have a name besides Consort." I chuckled, picking at the various fruits and berries of my morning platter.
Her blush deepened. “It would be most improper, Consort. I must attend other duties, if it pleases you, goodbye." She sketched a short curtsy and hurried out.
I waited for the door to close behind her before I chuckled again. Improper. There wasn't such a thing in this city. This was Corrias'Anorth, oldest and most enchanted city in the known world. It was the heart of the Annorithian Empire; the most corrupt, hedonistic, and opulent city in the known world.
I picked up the tray and carried it over to the entrance of the balcony. The doors opened with ease and I set the tray down on a table, before easing myself into one of the lounging chairs. I looked out across Corrias'Anorth.
Most of the city constituted estates and manors, owned by the most powerful nobles of the empire. As a boreal city it shined amidst snowy mountains, a gem that belied the corruption at its heart. The combined wealth of Corrias'Anorth was impossible to quantify. One might expect the city to be a mess of eclectic architecture. However, outwardly the city conformed to the traditional designs of the past. This was a chord of nostalgia among the nobles, something that had become fashionable.
The city was a composition of marble and whitestone, complemented by colours such as blue and purple curtains, tiles, flora, and fauna. Adorned in cool shades, the city seemed caught in endless twilight. But then, of course, it was. It was always night in Corrias'Anorth. The Court of the Eclipse, a coven of powerful sorcerers, controlled the phases of the artificial moon. Nobles paid high sums to hold their parties and events in the right kind of moonlight.
Those with a shred of innocence or naiveté might call this a magical world. This was true, in the sense there were fundamental magical forces that operated in the world. And it was true that certain beings could use and alter these forces. But if one thought that sorcerers promised good deeds, you'd be awfully wrong.
There were no slums in Corrias'Anorth. I knew from experience. The city needed trade and workers and slaves and more. But such undesirable things were not seen on the surface of the city. No, those were instead found in the bowels of the mountain, far below the city. From underground, various trade and merchant families operated. Not poor, mind you, for no one lacked wealth in Corrias'Anorth. They merely were not wealthy enough to live on the surface.
I was a consort to the Lady Filina. Her family name was Winterscorn, but for the last dozen years or so, it had been fashionable to not use your family name in most social circumstances. People should know who you are, if you were someone to know.
Being a consort was a dangerous game in Corrias'Anorth, but, everything was. The nobles and families of Corrias'Anorth played many dangerous games. Intrigue, assassination, politicking were the many games the nobles played. Everyone else, everyone in the city were tools or they were targets.
As consort I had no lack of comfort, I was wanting for nothing but personal freedom, of which I had a measure, but in controlled circumstances. For instance, today, I could go and do anything I wanted in the Evengrowth Manor. But I couldn't leave. And if my mistress should call upon me I would need to be available immediately.
The duties of a consort were dependent on the noble. My duties were to pleasure Lady Filina in whatever way she wished. In rare circumstances there were others involved, but Lady Filina was always there. As her personal consort she was loath to let another claim me. Seeking out my own personal pleasure – such as knocking hooves with Ashale, for instance – was not forbidden, only unwise.
My duties demanded sacrifices. There were petty things, such as my diet, but I didn't mind that too much. As mentioned, control of my personal freedoms were something I could live with. My mistress controlled or altered aspects of my physicality to suit her needs.
My maleness, for instance. The sheath remained, but through sorcerous alterations it might resemble a human or elven cock. My size and virility had been subtly enhanced, inflating my ego to learn there were little changes in that regard. My general appearance must have been a delight to the mistress; as she had seen fit not to turn me into one of the dreaded and whispered chimeric consorts.
Some who owned consorts decided – on whims akin to fashion and design – to change them time and time again. A chimeric consort, much like the name suggested, was one whose physical form may not be anything close to the original. Endlessly shaped to the desires of their owner into… well, anything was possible. Some things monstrous, or beyond recognisable description. But such was Corrias'Anorth.
My form, I assume part of the reason I came into the Lady's service, intrigued her. Or aroused her. Same thing, really. Besides the rustic-brown coat and displays of cream, I had a small number of cream spots on the small of my back and the top of my butt. This was something deer of my kind often grew out of in maturity, but in rare cases a mature deer would keep them. For some it was a sore point, something made fun of, and others found it adorable.
My breakfast had disappeared before me, settling into my stomach. I let out a pleased sigh, lounged, and enjoyed the view for a few more moments.
* * *
I stepped inside from the balcony, leaving the empty tray of my breakfast on one of the tables. One of the maids, likely Ashale would be along later to collect it.
In the centre of the room I moved through some limbering stretches. They were a good warm-up for the day, a pleasant way to ease the stiffness from my limbs after sleep. Halfway through my stretches I heard several large crashes, wood and glass, but muffled and distant. It sounded like it was likely on the street and not in the house.
I paused to consider whether that was alarming or not. It was not uncommon for nobles to raid and kill other nobles, servants, or more. But to do so openly, with evidence and unaffiliated witnesses, only invited retribution.
Guards roamed the manor, but they were few in number. Evengrowth was small, a place I was oft sent for some personal time. My mistress had once read an old noble's diary, in which the lady believed alone time was important to the health of a consort. Like some kind of rare pet.
A large crash and the splintering of wood roused me from my musings, much closer now. Definitely inside the manor. I backed up toward the bed and was about to snatch up a nearby robe when the door to my room burst open.
Standing there was a mutt, a dog, dressed in dark leather armour. He carried a shortsword openly, face undisguised and uncovered. Someone must have seen him, or he must have found a hidden way into the manor. I froze and carefully considered my options. He noted my nakedness. Unarmed and unarmoured. He grinned like a feral and sheathed his weapon.
“Listen here, do everything I tell you and you don't die!" he snapped, stalking across the carpets toward me.
“What in the Abyss' name is going on?" I whimpered a little, adopting a meek deception to bide my time.
“Shut up, deer boy, and take a seat. I'll get to you in a moment." He sneered, his opinion of my nature low, likely thinking me mere staff or a weak noble.
He stepped forward and I backed up to the bed. “No, no, no, what do you think – “. I thought to continue with whimpering and denial, but the mutt had other plans.
“Shut your muzzle!" He snapped.
The backhand surprised me. As my head snapped to the side I allowed myself to back up and sit on the edge of the bed. This creature was not smart. Harming a consort was inviting a painful death. Even a consort of a rival lord or lady was a prize. Even short lived, even if it was only to later debase them and pass them onto the barracks or the lesser servants. They were not a prize you did not harm or mark.
I resolved to pay him back.
His preparedness spoke through the length of rope that was quickly in his paws. He snatched up my hands and bound me, rough and quick crisscrossed that left a little length of rope between my two wrists. The mutt pulled me to my hooves and started to back out of the room, but stopped.
He turned to survey the room, no doubt eyeing the surroundings for things he could pocket and pawn later. The moment I felt the paw on my bound hands relax, I struck. Shifting my weight onto my right leg, I kicked out with my left. My hoof smashed into the side of his digitigrade knee. There was a satisfying crunch and the mutt yelped in pain, immediately collapsing to his other knee.
Tearing my bound hands free from his grip I darted about his back and threw my bindings over his head, pressing my knee into his back and executing a stranglehold while pushing him forward onto his face.
He struggled, fought for his life, trying to reach back and up to claw at me, but I avoided the worst of his paws. He managed to land just one desperate scratch across my right forearm, enough to draw blood, as he had lost too much strength with his fading oxygen. Several long moments after he had succumbed I removed my bound hands from this throat and stood up off him.
The door to the room slammed open again. Two figures stood there now and surveyed the scene darkly. More ambiguous dark leathers, more of these strange raiders. One was a hyena with a savage grin, and a single closed, scarred eye. The other was a leopard of muted colours, but nonetheless spotted.
“What is goin' on in 'ere?" the hyena cackled.
“Seems Ledd ran into a bit of trouble. A bound…naked…stag. A very unique kind of trouble." The leopard had a slight lisping accent.
I took a few seconds to gauge the two of them. Deception was likely not going to work here. Their casual attitude was evidence of their ease in this situation. Unnerving them, or attempting to get them to turn on one another was not going to work.
The leopard stalked over to me, dagger in his paw, already raising it to begin his threat. The hyena sauntered along behind him and meandered over to the unconscious Ledd.
“Now." The leopard began as he grasped my bound hands and pointed the dagger accusingly at me. “What happened, stag?"
I glanced back at the mutt before answering. “Your friend wasn't interested in talking much. Decided to smack me around. I wouldn't have choked him out if he'd given me my due as a consort."
The leopard groaned when he heard consort, but then glanced over my body and licked his lips. “Yeah, he's dim. Thick-skulled, but muscle. Or so we thought." The leopard glanced over my shoulder. “Alive?"
The hyena nodded. “Unconscious."
“Kill him." Came a gruff voice from the doorway.
Our three heads turned to see a wolf in the doorway. His black coat blended with the black leathers of his armour, but there was some grey to his fur. He was a big wolf and carried himself with a subtle grace that I knew meant he could move. The dark furred wolf was the only one among their number that had a cloak, a mottled dark colour on the outside, and a subtle dark-red on the inside.
Probably the leader.
He crossed into the room and came to stop beside the leopard, giving me a once over with clear approval.
“You sure, boss?" The hyena sounded unsure.
“I heard the conversation. Only Ledd would fail to recognise a consort. Kill him. We'll dump him." The wolf all but growled. He turned to look at me. “And who might you be?"
I straightened a little. “I am the consort of Lady –“.
He interrupted. “No, you have a name. What is your name, stag?" He did growl this time.
“Arris," I responded.
He inhaled a little through his nose and grinned, broadly. “Good, good. Wasn't so hard, huh? Listen, we're not looking to harm anyone. Few of the guards got in the way; we had to rough them up. But we're just looking to do our job. Let's get you to talk to some of your friends here and then we'll all get going."
I didn't have a choice. He snapped some orders and things got moving. The hyena drew his dagger, pressed it to the back of the mutt's skull and thrust it in. Quick and dead. Then he picked up the body, shouldering it easier than I would have expected, and disappeared out the door.
The leopard snatched up a nearby robe and went to throw it at me. I held up my bound wrists. He sighed and reached out, unbinding me with one paw. I smirked and wondered if there was a story or two behind that skill, before dressing in the translucent robe. I glanced down as I tied the belt around me and realised it was good for hiding nothing. Which is why of course I owned it.
The wolf, never referred to as anything but 'boss', had me talk to the locked and barricaded door of the kitchen. With a few curt words I managed to coax out Kiniir – the chef of the little manor – and, to my surprise, Ashale. They looked terrified, a shivering ferret and a meek doe. And they remained scared, even with the wolf insisting he wasn't in the business of harming or killing hostages.
The wolf led us out through a side entrance by the kitchen, into a sheltered and dim alley. Large, transdimensional containers for refuse stood undisturbed. There was a carriage at the mouth of the alley, doors open, but hidden from view. Our captives slipped gags over our mouths and ushered us toward the carriage without making a sound. From what I could glimpse while we disappeared into the carriage someone had staged a crash. Some manner of convoy of vehicles had been used as a distraction while the dark leather abductors had entered the manor.
The inside space of the carriage, especially on its side, cramped for all six of us. Especially when, as I discovered, there was another individual already in the carriage. This was a feline or some origin I couldn't identify, dressed in dark clothing, not leather. More civilian attire; a coat-robe combination, boots, and scarf that covered their mouth.
“Do it." The wolf growled when everyone was in.
The cat nodded and lifted their paws, beginning to move them in strange patterns. I could hear a whispering intonation begin, the combination of chant and gestures began to create arcane sparks in the air. Whole sigils began to form and my gut clenched in anticipation.
There was a sudden flash of light and it felt as though my guy had suddenly dropped from my body. I felt like I was thrust forward at impossible to comprehend speeds, but also as if I hadn't moved as muscle.
Then I was tumbling, landing amidst a chorus of oofs as the seven of us fell atop a mound of cushioning blankets.
With practice our captors rolled to their feet, extricating themselves from the jumble of bodies and blankets with ease. They pulled us out with them. It was clear to see that we were in some manner of safe. The kind that captors would hide their hostages in.
The room was wooden, mostly. The wall behind us was a kind of brick that would never see the light of day on the surface of Corrias'Anorth. I suspected we were somewhere underground. It felt warmer.
“You know the drill." The boss snapped.
The leopard and hyena dragged Kiniir and Ashale through a doorway and out of sight. The wolf pulled me along to a chair in the middle of the otherwise empty room. I sat before ordered or dragged. There was no point putting up a futile fight.
Satisfied when I sat without much resistance, the wolf drew a shortsword with ease and cut my bindings in a single stroke. Show-off. Sheathing his weapon, the wolf eased off my gag, stepped back and glanced at the cat, who had taken to stand in his shadow.
He nodded and the cat made a few gestures in front of their face, snapping a syllable that rang in the room like a bell, before nodding back to the wolf.
The wolf turned back to me. “You're a lucky boy. I need to be very careful with you and your companions. So we have to do things a little old-fashioned. Tell me about Filina."
I glanced again at the cat, whose eyes had a faint shimmer of arcane-blue, and considered it some manner of sorcery that would determine truth or lies. “Lady Filina is my mistress. She is wealthy. Owns many manors along the street at which you abducted us. She owns various homes and residences along the canals. She owns many wineries. Beyond that, I doubt I could tell you more than anyone could tell you." I conjured my most droll expression to go with my bored tirade.
“Sounds like boring small talk to me…" the wolf chuckled, standing with paws on hips.
“Perhaps she thought I'd be captured one day and didn't want her precious secrets to get stolen by some thugs in moody leathers," I shot back.
My response didn't seem to faze them, the wolf continued grinning. “Alright. Tell me about the Starwine. What do you know?"
I pointedly didn't glance at the cat, despite my instincts. “My mistress makes it. Not personally, people she owns makes it. One of the few nobles who has the recipe. Don't know anything else but that," I shrugged. “Again, no secrets I could tell you."
The wolf sighed, stared at me for several moments before glancing over at the cat. The feline shrugged.
“It speaks the truth. I cannot tell you much from this position. I could glance in, take the secrets it may not know it has."
The wolf growled, scratching at his neck. “Can't. There's a chance he'll respond poorly to that. Damage the mind and I've as good as cut off my own balls."
The feline shrugged, indifferent to the situation.
“Guess I'll be turning you over, then. But before that…" The wolf stepped forward, reaching for his belt buckle.
I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. I knew exactly where this was going.
“I know how your minds work. Got a little time before someone comes to claim you. They wouldn't mind if I dirty your mouth a little." He stood in front of me now, his pants slack around the crotch as he shimmied them down his thighs a little. “I will warn you. It's been a while."
With that he thrust forward a little, his large sheath bared before me, his furry sack full and tight beneath. There was a distinct aroma of male wolf that rose before me and instinctually my mouth began to water. It would be the same for any bared crotch before my face.
Again, there was no point struggling, no point arguing.
I leant forward and sniffed again. He was clean, that was evident. Some kind of magical soap that left no scent of its own and left only the musk of arousal behind. For the work before me, it was going to be pleasant to bury my nose in his crotch.
I bought one hand to hand up to cup his balls, testing their large, round mass, and their warmth. The other hand circled about his sheath and began to coax out his tip. The bright red of his canine erection began to show and I met it with an inquisitive tongue.
The flavour of male wolf that met my tongue was pleasant as well, and I surrendered to my instincts. As my hand bought forth more of his shaft, circling and stroking, my mouth engulfed more in its warmth, my tongue bathing his dick. As over half his cock emerged from his sheath, I realised I had a mouthful of a rather large wolf. The thickness had my mouth in a wide circle, lips stretched.
The wolf sighed with pleasure, his paw on the back of my head, not to pull, only to rest there. His length noticeable throbbed in my eager mouth, saliva escaping the seal of my lips to dampen my chin. His length was fully engorged now, and I felt the beginnings of his knot in the firm bulb beneath my hand as I stroked the length of his large cock not in my mouth.
Taking a sharp inhale, coaxed forth by his masculine scent, I thrust my head forth. The wolf seemed surprised and reached for his belt, but groaned and threw his head back when he realised I was deepthroating him. The tip of his cock slipped into my throat and I had to sit up to get all his cock into my mouth and half down my throat. My nose smashed into his navel and overwhelmed me with wolf musk. The furry orbs of his balls rested wetly on my chin.
“Fuck, you…fuck!" He exclaimed in surprise, his entire length engulfed in the warmth and tightness of my mouth and throat.
I held him there for as long as I dared, drawing back with powerful suction that had him rise onto the tips of his toes with a gasp. Like I was sucking his soul out through his cock. After drawing off him completely I sucked down a breath, working his length with practiced motions of my hand.
I repeated this about a dozen times, all but spearing my head forward, sucking down his thick wolf cock, before drawing back to coyly tease him. My abductor was clearly reaching the end of the line and he was reluctant to let me off the last time, letting me draw breath but shoving me back on his length quickly after.
“Time to finish up, deer boy. As much as I'd love to, I can't be here all night." He managed to get out through gritted teeth.
With that he took my head in both paws and began to gently thrust his length into my mouth, easing me into a rhythm of suction and tongue to work him to climax. Head lolled back with his tongue hanging from his maw, he panted with pleasure, hips working endlessly to finally spend the big load churning in his furry orbs, swinging back and forth between his thighs.
And that's when things went split-second-crazy.
I heard a crackle behind me, the kind of sound one imagines static electricity would make. The cat, still in the shadow of the wolf, waiting for him to end his pleasure, hissed loudly. There was a thwip and the wolf jerked himself from my mouth. His bright red cock bobbed in the air, dripping my spit and his fluid across the floor.
Glancing up, I saw he was clutching his shoulder, the digits of his paw curled about a protruding bolt. His sudden withdrawal had sent me forward onto my hands and knees. I was out of range of any further shots, but none followed. I had a view of his large balls as he retreated. They were going to be painfully blue until he surrendered to his own paw, or a less fulfilling whore. Assuming he survived.
When the wolf was in reach of the cat there was a hissed incantation – rushed and no doubt painful – and a thunderous sound as they disappeared. As I staggered to my hooves the leopard and hyena appeared in the doorway. They realised things had turned sour and they were now on their own.
Before they could run for it there was a huge form in a cerulean and silver cloak leaping for them. I had a moment to appreciate the colours of Lady Filina before I saw the flash of metal, the pained cries of two creatures, and the sound of bodies hitting the floor.
Vencath, the anthropomorphic dragon, armoured in scales, horns, spines, and fury, had made short work of the two abductors. His two large axes, one in each hand, seemed ready to meet any other creatures, but none emerged. I had been so enamoured with the fight I hadn't realised two accompanying guards had helped me to my hooves.
Vencath glanced back to ensure I was guarded before he advanced through the doorway. We heard muffled shouts of surprise before Vencath said something, re-emerging moments later with Ashale and Kiniir in tow.
“It is a good thing the mistress adorns you such, Consort, it may have taken longer to find you otherwise." Vencath smirked, the rumble of his deep voice filling the room.
I arched a brow, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I had not expected such a quick and daring rescue, Vencath. How did you find us?"
He stopped to look over the bodies of the leopard and hyena, before turning back to me. “I didn't find you. Arkthus did. He is familiar with the gems the Lady gifts you, and they served to guide his sight to you, no matter where you might be. Then, he bought us here."
The name sent a shiver down my spine. Arkthus, a sorcerer in service to Lady Filina. And the most terrifying human I had ever encountered. The group gathered and walked back toward the cushioning blankets assembled for teleportation purposes.
There stood the sorcerer, dressed in dark robes accented with a chill white. The sharp cut of his robe made him look skeletal, the robes hanging from him like the tattered rags of the grave. His face, cast in deathly shades, was turned up in a perpetual sneer. He looked and sounded like he was dead inside, hollow and cold.
“Are we ready to depart?" A simple question, yet his voice cut like glass.
“When you're ready, sorcerer," Vencath replied, and I detected an edge to his voice.
I was glad I wasn't the only one perturbed by the human,
With a flowing gesture and perfectly intoned words, which sounded like the cracking of thin ice across a lake, Arkthus enveloped the group in a rush of air and static-crackle. Unlike last time, it felt like my body froze in the time it took for me to gasp. The moment we completed the teleport the air escaped my lungs, gleefully, and warmth returned to my body.
Arkthus strode away, bored of the entire affair. Vencath led us away. We passed into marble halls, lush cerulean carpets, and air laden with fruity scents. From this, I knew we were at Lady Filina's primary estate. Often called the Winterscorn Estate, or Winterscorn Winery, it was the heart of a dozen orchards and much smaller estates that all surrounded it.
Turning down no less than five long halls, we finally reached our destination. The fourth storey, east wing quarters. The Lady's personal room lay here, as well as a large balcony and a dozen sitting rooms of various themes and styles, for various…uses.
Lady Filina was bathing in the perpetual twilight of the city from her balcony. She was an elven woman, aging as only the most wealthy and powerful of elves in the city could. She was garbed in the finest of cerulean and silver silks, layered and breezing about her like frosty, yet nebulous clouds. Lounging in her chair, her platinum blonde hair spilled like a waterfall of pale gold across plush cushions of ivory, a sparkling and elegantly stemmed glass of Starwine in one hand.
When they heard our approach, her two accompanying guards snapped to attention at the doorway. She gently rose to sit in her seat, watching. I had only now realised, with a few moments to breathe, that Vencath and two of the Lady's personal guards, as well as her sorcerer had come to retrieve us. And so quickly…
“My darlings!" Her soft, musical, but utterly commanding voice reached out through the haze of sudden events. “You are back in safe hands. Thank the Moon."
She stood and the guards swiftly rotated through the arched doorway to stand to attention on the other side, facing her. Vencath gestured us through and followed, standing at ease some distance away.
I stepped forward while Ashale and Kiniir followed behind me in a bit of a daze.
“Mistress." I greeted her, sketching a deep bow, full and from the waist.
I heard and saw, in the corner of my eye, Ashale curtsy deeply and Kiniir nearly prostrate himself.
“Vencath told me all about what happened. The carriages used to distracted the theft of my precious servants." Glancing past me, to Ashale and Kiniir she said, “You two must be frightened, poor things. Vencath, show them to the guest quarters, and have the servants see to their rest. You two will stay here until you feel well enough. You will resume duties at one of the estates here. Run along now."
She needn't repeat herself. Hurried curtsies and bows preceded their departure. Vencath followed with the two guards that had accompanied him. Leaving her Starwine on the table, Lady Filina stepped up to me and I instinctually straightened. The translucent robe I still wore did nothing to hide my body from the one person who knew it as well as I did.
She nodded to the two guards behind me and I heard them turn again, before they too left.
My mistress reached up a hand, one finger trailing across my lips. “You smell like wolf and musk, dear Consort. Did one of your abductors debase you with their lust?"
As I answered I could see the lust growing in her eyes, something hungry and eager, kept in check only by the game she played. “Yes, my mistress," I answered.
“They wanted something from you, something about me, and they couldn't get it from you?" she asked.
“Yes, my mistress. Questions only, no mind games. Whoever contracted them did not want to damage us in any way. No chances," I replied, concise and to the point.
She continued to lead. “And when they could get nothing from you, a large, lusting wolf decided to use you for what you are best at. Yes?" she breathed, lustily.
“Yes, my mistress."
Biting her lip she added. “And you did so willingly?"
There was a fraction of a moment in which I contemplated lying, but I knew it was foolish. “Yes, my mistress." I allowed some shame to sink into my voice, for her benefit.
She nodded, stepping around to my side, running a hand down my back in a way that would be comforting, if it didn't end with a firm, almost painful squeeze of my ass. “Of course you did. It is what you do. Nothing more. I knew this when I first laid eyes upon you, Consort."
I remained silent.
She continued around behind me, stepping around to my other side, hands trailing and groping where they desired. “I looked through you and saw the whore within. You tried to trap it with shame. You tried to thieve, to put your lithe body to something other than pleasing others. But it was a lie."
She stood before me now. “Yes, my mistress." A rote answer, exactly what she wanted to hear, nothing more.
She leant forward, pressing her body against mine, breathing into my ear. “So I claimed you, whore, to be free amidst my homes and my rules." At the pressing of her body my own instinctively responded.
My translucent robe quickly tented, pressing insistently against her, but I said nothing.
“When others try to claim you, especially without my permission, it makes my furious." She gently scratched her nails down my neck. “You are mine…" She breathed this as she nuzzled into my shoulder, then suddenly and violently pushed me away.
“You reek of wolf. Bathe, Consort. Visit me when you finish. I'll have use of you, something that should comfort your tragic day," she ordered.
I saw the flushed skin at her chest, where the layered silks of her robe dropped to reveal scandalous cleavage. She didn't lie. It did make her furious. With lust. Something primal and hedonistic that ran through this city like blood. Something second nature to the rich and powerful of this old empire. And once cleansed, she would claim me, mark me as her own again.
Not needing further instructions I departed. I worked diligently and quickly in the private bathing chamber to remove the scent of the wolf from me, forcing thoughts and memories of the encounter from my mind. Her words made me think.
The insistence that she knew my nature was something she had mentioned in the past. Usually whilst we were already entangled amorously or furiously. To proclaim her thorough understanding of me was normally to spur me on… this felt as though there was more she was not saying…
Reinforcement.
Could that be it? She wanted to reinforce her claim? Was she afraid that her Consort found pleasure without her? Was she afraid my pleasure was not something she, alone, could control? Could she be afraid of her consort leaving her?
Lady Filina Winterscorn, afraid of the disappearance or loss of her consort?
I dismissed the thought as petty fiction. But a nugget of doubt festered.
* * *
Once cleaned and again smelling of me, I entered the mistress' personal chambers. The Lady Filina was lounging on her large bed, twice the size of the bed I had woken from. She had shed her layered cerulean and silver robe and was now naked. It was impossible not to take in the beauty of her form. Her radiant and healthy skin was not pale, as had become fashionable recently, it was instead warm and slightly tanned. It looked unbelievably soft from a distance, and met those expectations, I knew.
With legs crossed, not coyly, but instead comfortably, she was a tall woman of firm muscle yet soft curves in all the places one hoped to find them. Supple breasts crowned with firm pink nipples never failed to draw my attention, and my eyes hungrily roamed the rest of her form. Down her toned torso, the womanly curve of her hip and thighs, and down her soft calves to her feet.
When my eyes trailed back up her form she beckoned me with a single finger. I felt the pull as a physical instinct. Irresistible. Hooves clicked eagerly across the floor as I reached the bed, meeting it with shins to crawl toward her. When I was close enough she extended a leg and balanced her ankle over my shoulder. I lay before her, waiting for her to set the tone of our interaction.
“Slow. I want you to feast, forget your troubled day, and remember your calling. That will be all."
Cunilingus only. I surrendered to the instinct to please. Kissing and nuzzling my way down her calf I felt the muscles play as she rose the leg higher over my shoulder the more I worked my way down.
I ran my hand up the soft length of thigh on her other leg, running up and around to gently cradle her firm and feminine butt. My lips trailed softly across her inner thing, delighted in the subtle twitches of sensitivity, before nearing my prize.
The soft pink of her feminine flower always made my heart race with arousal and excitement. I pushed aside the distracting throbbing that was pressing into the bed beneath me, and instead focussed ahead. The clear scent of her female arousal guided me in, the wetness showing she was equally excited as I was only served to make me ravenous.
But the mistress liked to start slow, and gentle, and her instructions would be followed. It would be a gentle night ahead. Her hand reached out to lay atop my head, scratching subtly through my fur, ready to direct wherever she desired. Such a thing would not be necessary, but it was instinct.
Trailing my lips from thigh to the soft velvet of her mound, I laid gentle kisses about her sex, the teasing tongue amidst the soft lips of her womanhood elicited a sigh of pleasure. I explored, with practiced familiarity, the beginnings of her pussy, while bringing my hands up beneath her hips, angling her precisely for my mouth.
Licks and kisses about her mound, enveloped with the heady scent of her feminine arousal driving me ever onward. I nibbled with lips only, lightly sucking and teasing her womanly folds. Encouragement took the form of a subtle press on my head, keeping me firmly fixed between her thighs. As if I could tear myself away. Her sex was always sensitive to any clever ministrations, and all encouragement in the midst of pleasuring her only spurred me on.
I was entranced in this passionate act. To change pace I backed off an inch and then used the width of my tongue to swipe up, gently, but thoroughly, through her flower. Her breath hitched and I dove in for more. Muzzle pressed to her muff, my tongue delved into her, the taste of her womanhood strong on my tongue, her particular kind of ambrosia something I had supped on many times before. I continued to lick, thrusting my tongue deep, before drawing back to lap and gently flick at her sex.
Her thighs spread more and I bought my hands up from her buttocks to gently trace and tease the edges of her womanhood. Drawing up the length of her snatch I reached the little nub of her clit, the sensitive bud that was never shy. While beginning to tease her wet interior with the tips of my fingers, I let my tongue dance, softly, across her nub.
She hissed in a breath, one of frustration, even as she knew the game. It was delicious sensation, but not enough for her right now. There was a subtle, near reflexive tug on my head. I flicked her pleasure button with my tongue and drew out a gasp of surprise, gently working a finger into her depths. Twisting and exploring, I coupled a 'come hither' gesture of my finger, stroking her velvety interior, while applying broad and swirling laps across the top of her mound.
Her exclamation of pleasure was welcomed, but background noise, muffled by the now insistent press of her thighs to the sides of my head. I gently worked her more, building toward a finale. My tongue traced tantalising, sexual symbols, focussing on her clit, but freely exploring every available surface. I was lost in her heavenly scent and the thorough taste of her that would linger on my mouth for hours.
I eased a second finger into her, stroking in ways that had her clench her thighs and curl her toes. Both of her hands now tensed, about the base of my decorated antlers, driving me to continue. She pressed my muzzle insistently into her sex and I was all too happy to comply. Her wet interior clenched and rippled about my fingers.
Her exclamations grew, the pressing and clutching ceaseless. Lapping and gently sucking, toying with her clit, thoroughly stroking with a varying rhythm of my fingers, I knew I had fulfilled my duties when her sounds stopped, her breath caught. She rode the waves of her orgasm as her head slowly lolled, opened mouth gradually easing into bliss.. Fingertips pressed into the top of my skull and shuddering thighs flexed and relaxed about the sides of my head. Her womanhood rippled around my fingers and I continued, albeit gently, knowing she was prone to oversensitivity.
I moved my head down, lapping at the fluid that flowed freely from her pussy in her climax, teasing about the folds of her mound for my reward. After many long moments she wound down, resting her hands on my head while I took to gently kissing and licking over her womanhood, nuzzling my head into her thighs.
“Come…" she ordered, breathlessly.
I eased myself up and over her, lying beside her, where she could throw her arm over me and rest her head about my chest. I licked and cleaned my lips and chin, savouring ever last hint of her flavour I could find.
Satiated, she rested her elven head upon my chest, already running one of her manicured hands through the soft down of my chest.
For a consort, only half my duties actually involved active sex. The other half was a mix of being pleasant company, a living pillow for my mistress, or something to show off to appraising eyes. Rare were the nights I did not share the bed of my mistress.
“Mmm, I am glad to have you back, safe and where you belong, my Consort." My mistress murmured into my chest fur.
“I am glad to be safe and in your presence, my mistress." The reply was rote, but there was a certain level of sincerity.
Compared to other places I could be, other fates, this was a better result.
“I may have to organise a reward for my guard, Vencath. He managed such a swift and thorough retrieval of my pets." She toyed with the beginnings of the subtle mane about my neck, that season just beginning.
I recalled Vencath. The huge and strong draconic anthro had casually thrown himself at two of the abductors and dispatched them in a second. And I had learned he organised the entire rescue in a matter of moments.
“I would be happy to assist you in whatever manner you deem appropriate for your loyal and very capable guard, my Lady."
She chuckled, a lyrical laugh that was rarely genuine. “I am sure you would, my Consort. Always eager to help, always eager to please. And oh so pleasing. I'm sure Vencath would enjoy whatever reward I could offer that would involve my personal Consort. I'm very sure."
I chuckled with her, but it was in lieu of a reply. A practiced response that was merely polite. A façade of interaction.
“But for the next few days I think it best for your health if you should have some rest." She patted my chest, and I detected more than a hint of condescension.
“I am never wanting for rest, or anything in your service. However you should want me, if it would please you, my mistress." Again, rote.
She ran her hand a little lower, her response sleepy. “Oh, I know, I know. But your talents will serve me in a similar way. I'll want you to spend some time with Ashale. She seems a little shaken. You should be able to lift her spirits and get her back to normal in short order."
I struggled to keep my response carefully measured, and to keep my traitorous body from showing any sign. “Of course, my mistress, however I may serve. Is there anything in particular you wish – “.
She cut me off, not harshly, but with the firm weight of her utter authority. “In whatever manner the little doe should wish. Use your best judgement, my Consort."
Her hand rested on my abdomen, no longer moving, and her head rested on my shoulder and chest. With a little sigh she was content our talk had concluded. The signs were easy to read.
I mentally fought for the next hour to avoid thinking or responding to my given duties over the next few days. What could Ashale possibly ask for? I thought about our interaction in the morning. I lost my mental battle. Thankfully the mistress was sound asleep, and missed the tented sheets, mere inches from her hand.
Giving up, my body already having won, I thought more about the doe.
It's a test, a cruel test. And I'm gonna fail. She's gonna castrate and kill me.
I just knew it.
* * *
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