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Silas' Workday

Silas rubbed the gunk out of his eyes, yawned, and rolled over on his back to gaze sleepily up at the sky for a bit. It was a deep, brilliant, sapphire-blue. He'd had a hard time getting used to the weather here, initially - back home in Laswell, sunshine and clear skies was a rare treasure, even in summer. Overcast and frequent rains were at the order of the day whenever it wasn't cold enough to allow for snow and sleet instead. Here, though... warm sun, clear skies, a pleasant sea-breeze... sure, it had been a bit overwhelming right at first, but he certainly did not mind!

Yawning again, he stretched and, reluctantly, pushed himself up from the grass to look around. It was quiet in the Seraglio right now - from the looks of things, nobody else had really gotten out of bed yet. It_was_ still early_,_ granted - at least based on the length of the shadows cast by the trees and, indeed, the surrounding walls. But alas, he couldn't lie about snoozing all morning - he had work to do and promises to keep!

Leaping to his hooves, he shook the morning dew out of the curly hair that covered his goat-like legs. It wasn't as if he needed to sleep outside, really - at least one of the Consorts was always happy to welcome him into their chambers for the night, and if nobody_else_ put in a bid, he could always count on Slira. Last night had been no exception - but when the weather was this good, why sleep in a stuffy room, sweating into silken sheets and pillows? The summer months were far more suited for sleeping beneath the stars - even if the rare rains rolled in, well, the little garden had a couple of nice, thick-crowned trees that provided a perfectly dry sleeping-spot, and the lullaby of the warm summer rains drizzling into the nearby pond always helped him sleep like a baby.

He enjoyed the silence - and the beauty of the Seraglio's central garden, stark and quiet in these early hours - for another couple of minutes while absentmindedly stroking his rock-hard morning-wood. Then, he finally got moving, bounding towards the Elven Consort's room. His bladder was achingly full - the wine served with yesterday's dinner had been particularly delectable, and he had put away quite a few mugs of it. Normally he'd just water one of the trees - from a significant distance, even, considering his present situation - but Thielwen had lodged a request with him the previous evening after he'd politely declined her invitation to share her bed for the night. Not that they hadn't had some fun, he just preferred sleeping under the stars rather than in a sweat-scented bedroom as long as the weather would let him. That aside, though, he never failed to answer to the Consorts' requests! Well, unless he had a prior engagement or something... but they were generally quite understanding about such things.

The door opened easily and soundlessly when he turned the doorknob. All the Consorts' rooms had locks on their doors - save for Rubicundus who, being a dragon and all, had a magical forcefield instead - but he'd never seen any of them being used. The only door that was ever sealed was the one belonging to the Empress herself - his noble Mistress and employer - and even that was only because it had been designed with defense in mind. He rather doubted she had even been consulted on that particular part of the design...

The thick carpet that covered the floor of Thielwen's tastefully-decorated chambers absorbed a lot of the noise his hooves inevitably produced as he hopped across it - but elven ears were as sharp as they were pointy, as he was well aware, so he wasn't surprised to see the room's owner stir in her large, stylish bed as he approached. Blinking her eyes to clear them, she turned her head and smiled at him. "You remembered..." she croaked, her usually melodic voice rough with sleep. She cleared her throat as he nodded and grinned. "Of course, m'lady. So how would you like it this fine morning?"

She considered it for a moment. Used to be, there'd have been no need for such a question. If she laid claim to the contents of his bladder, it was to wrap her lips around his cockhead and eagerly drink it down, never spilling a drop. Indeed, she'd often expounded on how his first morning piss was stronger and more intense somehow... but, quite recently, some new variants had been added to the matter. Of course, it was all the same to him.

Licking her lips, Thielwen turned over in her bed to lie on her belly and threw off her sheets - revealing the slender nakedness that had hid beneath them. She wiggled her rather flat bottom at him. "In my ass, please. Actually... let me have both your firsts of the day. Fill me up!" Even so early in the morning, her voice - now clear again - was dripping with perverse lust. Nodding placidly, he leaped onto the bed and spat on his cock, rubbing the saliva carefully into the head. "As you like, m'lady..." Another glob of spit landed - with impressive precision, if he had to say so himself - square on her sphincter, and he massaged it in there with his thumb for a bit. The taut muscle-ring quickly loosened and opened under his touch - it was well-trained by now, so hardly surprising... only her incredibly durable elven physiology had prevented that orifice from turning into a permanently-gaping crater by now.

Mounting her, he covered her slim, petite body with his own hairy musculature - pushing his cockhead steadily into her ass. The lubrication, despite his best efforts, was rather rudimentary for now - but _she_clearly didn't mind and neither did he. Once her sphincter encircled his shaft just beneath the head, he sighed with relief and opened the floodgates - pouring the contents of his heavy bladder into the dark hole, filling it up. She moaned and squirmed underneath him as she felt the liquid warmth flow deeper inside her.

Eventually, the flow stilled - but, of course, with such hot, tight accommodations squeezing down on his cockhead, his morning-wood was in no hurry to disappear on that account. And so, in keeping with her request, he pushed deeper - using his mass, leverage, and powerful hips to force his cock further up inside her ass. The piss that now filled it was hardly a spectacular lubricant, but it was something, easing his entry and progress. Soon enough, he encountered _another_obstacle, however - after all, Thielwen obviously hadn't had a chance to perform her morning ablutions yet.

Undeterred, he pressed on - pushing the contents of her bowels back with his mighty rod, eased in this by the large quantity of hot urine that had already flowed past them. Once he'd carved out a suitable space for his purposes, he began to gyrate his hips, pounding the elf's once-tight ass even as tiny amounts of his own urine bubbled out around the sphincter, spreading its basic lubrication even there. With a springy mattress beneath them, there was no need to hold back - he could fuck her with all his strength, forcing her into the sheets, making the whole thing sway and squeak.

Morning-wood being what it is, it took him some time to reach an orgasm - more than usual, anyway. His heavy balls, currently reclining luxuriously on the silken bedsheets between the elf's widely-spread thighs, churned with eagerness to start the day off right - and eagerly blasted a hefty load of his thick, technically-infertile cum into the depths of Thielwen's asshole with significant force. He was fully embedded within her, resting his full body-weight on her back, as he briefly held still and waited for the intense climax to pass. He marveled at the sensation of his balls struggling - successfully, at that - to pour their contents into the already overfilled elf-guts, and the sensation of the piss bubbling around the sphincter redoubling with the added pressure.

"Keep reaming my ass a bit longer, pleeaaaase..." the elf moaned. "Stir up my guts with your thick cock!" Ah, the dirty-talk. She didn't really do it as much as she used to, anymore - didn't need to, now that she'd so thoroughly established her reputation as the dirtiest, nastiest pervert in a Seraglio that had quite a few contenders for that title. More, really, than most of them even knew of! Regardless, he could only answer her plea - fucking her for another couple of minutes with long, smooth, powerful strokes. His cock, of course, was still magnificently hard - he could no longer claim that it had never failed to rise to every occasion, alas, but considering that the only one who'd ever managed to outlast him was a Kirin, Silas still felt that he could be reasonably proud.

After a bit of this, she reached out from beneath him and fumbled around her bedside table with one hand. Taking this as his cue, he pushed himself off of her, pulling back until only his cockhead remained inside her, plugging her ass for now. Finding what she was looking for, she grabbed it and lifted it over behind her lower back - holding it easily despite its significant weight. A gleaming, golden butt-plug of not-insignificant girth, probably not actually _solid_gold but quite a hefty lump of metal regardless. As he leaned back and let his glans plop out, the plug swiftly replaced it - sparking a groan as the orifice was briefly forced to stretch around the thickest point, which had a good inch on his own girth. It was lucky for the sheets and the mattress, he judged - he had, indeed, 'stirred her guts' as requested, so what filled them now had to be a rather nasty, foamy mix of cum, piss and - by now - floating chunks of partially-dissolved shit.

He only needed to look down to see proof of this - after all, his cock had been rather severely stained by it, particularly around the head, and Thielwen's sphincter hadn't been nearly tight enough to scrape it all off on the way out. She, meanwhile, was looking at it too, over her shoulder, as she pushed herself upright in the bed. For a moment, a strangely haunted expression flickered across her face - only to be swiftly replaced by her customary look of darkly perverse lustfulness. Shifting her body around, she descended on his badly-stained cock and paused, briefly, to breathe deeply of the reeking stench it was now giving off.

Then, she carefully cleaned his cock with her tongue. Bent over her task as she was, he could see occasional tremors run down her spine as she licked her way up the shaft towards the head. He could tell what she wanted, what she desired, and it was his job to give it to her. So once she reached the crown, where the staining was worst, he wrapped his hands around her narrow skull, burying his fingers in her golden hair, and pushed her down on it. "Be thorough..." he grunted, and felt her tongue immediately go into a frenzy, licking off the sticky residue that he had mined from the depth of her guts.

Thorough she was, carefully cleaning the soft expanse of his cockhead, licking around the edge underneath it, and even sucking out a bit of dirt that had gotten lodged in his urethra. Then she did a second pass of his shaft, before licking his sweaty balls - just in case some of the piss that had bubbled through her stretched-open anus might have sprayed there - and strained his abundant, curly crotch-hair with her lips. Only then did she lean back, somewhat breathless, eyes unfocused, one hand rubbing her slightly distended belly. How much of the barely-perceivable curve was due to her nascent pregnancy, he wondered, and how much was the way her guts strained to contain the roiling mess that filled them? Probably mostly the later, he judged.

"Will that be all, m'lady?" He politely asked, still kneeling before her, still hard. She seemed to consider it for a moment, then shook her head. "Yes. Thank you as always, Silas. And, umm..." she hesitated, then looked away. "Nevermind. Run along now." With a nod, he complied - leaping briskly off her bed and skipping back outside into the sunlight. He paused, there, and took a deep breath of the fresh air, looking around. While he'd been working the Seraglio had started to wake up. Achidias had cantered out onto the grass and was now going through his morning calisthenics, working both his humanoid torso and his equine undercarriage. Lutra was in the lake, taking a morning swim, chatting with Aishee. The rest remained unaccounted for, but would probably turn up soon enough - breakfast was imminent, after all.

He pondered the morning's events as he stood there for a bit. Thielwen... there was something off about her. He didn't mind playing along with her fetishes, however dirty, but... sometimes, it didn't feel like she was just acting on some personal kink. It was more like... like some kind of silent, invisible master was hovering behind her, a ghostly hand on her collar and leash, ordering her to demean and humiliate herself in every possible, nauseating way. And it wasn't the nice sort of master-slave relationship, like Sayn and Rubicundus, either.

He knew perfectly well what Thielwen had been about to say, but then decided not to. She'd been trying to ask him not to mention their morning activities to Sayn. The mistress of the harem had recently grown to tolerate acts such as piss-drinking, and had even started to occasionally partake in ass-to-mouth, albeit still only under fairly limited circumstances. If she had known - or worse, seen - what Thielwen had just done, it would've sickened her... likely in a very literal, pukey sort of way. But of course, there was no need to_tell_ him to remain mum about it - as he had reassured her on previous occasions. He was a Concubine. His role was to serve the sexual needs of the Mistress and her Consorts - not to carry tales about them. Whatever filthy games or experiments she wanted to perform, he would assist her - discretion guaranteed.

Still, he wasn't so sure that was the right tack to take anymore. Maybe he_should_ talk to somebody about it... not Sayn, perhaps, but... maybe Korlin? Thielwen's activities just didn't seem very healthy to him... not so much on a physical level as a mental one. She_was_ an elf, after all - she wasn't likely to get sick no matter what she did with her mouth. But the mind was a different matter. It boggled his mind to think of the fact that she was over three thousand years old - and while the elves tended to enjoy drawing attention to the vast amounts of skill, knowledge and wisdom they had accumulated across those unbelievably long lives, it occurred to Silas that you could also accumulate an awful lot of trauma, issues, hang-ups and baggage during such a long life.

On the other hand, Korlin was a Kirin. If there was something seriously wrong with Thielwen, she would have noticed on her own, right? So... probably nothing, then. He was usually good at reading people, at least during sex - but there _were_differences between the various races, so maybe it was just some 'elf-thing' that was throwing off his perceptions? Yeah, that sounded reasonable enough. With a shrug, he started bounding across the garden towards the main exit - already, the seductive scent of breakfast was spreading from the adjoining dining-room, and after the earlier morning-exercise he was famished!

Breakfast was tasty as always, and peppered with the usual mix of people yawning and discussing plans for the day. Silas kept half an eye on Thielwen throughout, and noted that she was squirming strangely now and then despite otherwise acting normal. As he'd suspected, the plug almost certainly remained in place, holding in the improvised enema... and if he was any judge, she was planning to pull either him or one of the other males of the Seraglio aside after breakfast for a quick pussy-fucking just to further shake up her guts before finally emptying them.

If she'd been aiming for him, though, she'd be disappointed - for as soon as he left the dining-room, he was quite literally ambushed by Slira. In the blink of an eye, she had him up against a corner, one dexterous hand stroking his currently-limp cock while she rubbed herself against his chest, purring. Presumably, now that she didn't have to hunt for her supper anymore, she was finding... _different_outlets for her hunting-instincts, with him being her favorite prey.

"Again, m'lady?" he asked lightly as he caressed the side of her reptilian face, stroking her lips and eye-ridges. Dealing with her_had_ been a bit of a learning-curve, but he'd soon nailed down the sensitive regions, and knew them by heart at this point. She grinned, in her usual, predatory fashion, and leaned into his touch. "Of course, Silas. Why, it must be nearly ten hours since your delightful dick last plunged into my cloaca. Far too long! You really mustn't let your work pile up on you like that..." He laughed, nodding. "Ah, of course m'lady, my apologies... though, I must admit, I'm a bit surprised to still be your favorite. Once Rubicundus joined our merry little band, I figured I'd basically have seen the last of you!"

Slira clicked her tongue and shrugged. "Ah... I do look him up several times per day, as you know. But... well..." "Well?" he queried, now using both hands to rub her sensitive face-parts. She crooned appreciatively. "Well, he just rather reminds me of the big boys back home... the larger tribes, you know, like the Big Fang, the Spineback, the Hornface... the body-shape's different, and so is the texture of his hide, but the shape of the skull, the tail, the basic profile, it's just very reminiscent." "So?" Silas asked, pushing further, mostly driven by simple curiosity. "What's wrong with that? I thought you used to enjoy mating with all of those."

She nodded readily, pushing herself against him harder. "I did, but... well, they were rather dim, those boys. Like big kids. I keep expecting him to act the same way, and the gap between that and his actual nature is just... distracting. Plus, all those big tribes back home have very interesting textures to them. Ridges and knots and bumps and stuff. Sure, Rubicundus has his own asset - being able to turn exactly as big as he wants to be is a very_nice trait - but every time he mounts me I'm reminded of how all those giant cocks back home _felt, and how the smoothness of_his_ tool comes up rather short by comparison... but don't tell him I said that!"

Silas chuckled and rubbed her eye-ridge a bit more forcefully, causing her momentarily-intense expression to soften. "Please, have you forgotten who you're talking to? Silas is the very soul of discretion, if you hadn't heard. And if you haven't, it's because I'm just that discreet!" This earned him an appreciative laugh, and another croon. "Heh. So, in addition to _not_resembling a Sharptooth Sirrush in any way, shape or form, you're also funnier than Rubicundus. And he doesn't provide this kind of foreplay..." she followed up by saying, before pushing herself right up into his face for a kiss. He let his tongue _carefully_caress her razor-sharp teeth while their lips met, and sucked on her far-larger tongue as it invaded his mouth.

He grinned at her once their lips parted again. "Perhaps he just doesn't realize that a gal who used to walk around her homeland effectively carrying a sign that read 'Don't talk, just fuck me' might still appreciate a bit of foreplay..." She returned his grin with a chuckle, and pulled away from him. "If so, he clearly isn't as perceptive as dragons are supposed to be. Now, stop making me feel nostalgic for the Holy Green, and start fucking my brains out, if you don't mind!" As she talked, she spun around and bent over, lifting her tail to show off her cloaca - wet and swollen with desire, thanks to his expert stimulation of her face and lips. Needless to say, he didn't mind.

His cock had risen and hardened while they talked and kissed - but now the foreplay was over, and it was time to put it to work. Stepping forwards, he grabbed the root of her tail with one hand, with the other gripping it a bit higher up, and pulled it into his chest as he slid neatly in underneath it. The very tip curved hungrily around his shoulder as he thrust into her - pushing his cock into her cloaca to the root in a single lunge. Much as the Sharpclaw Sirrush might enjoy a bit of light petting and foreplay, he knew from extensive experience that this was how she liked to fuck - fast, hard, rough and deep.

He could not, of course, do most of those things as well as the towering lizards she'd left behind on the Southern Continent - but he _could_do his level best. For him, though, that mostly just meant abandoning his usually-polished technique in favor of bestial rutting - simply letting the deep-seated urge to plant his seed in as many wombs as possible drive his loins without restraint. His powerful haunches were soon moving practically on their own, see-sawing back and forth with more power and speed than any mere human could have hoped to match - repeatedly mashing his curly crotch-hair into the cloaca's sensitive outer sphincter as he bottomed out, using every available inch of hard cock-meat.

It wasn't that different from fucking a pussy or an ass, he reflected as he steadily pounded her, listening to her moans and croons. Which made sense, he supposed, since it was basically both_of those things, rolled into one. Based on his experience so far, the singular orifice essentially had the flexibility and sensitivity of a pussy, but _felt more like an asshole, what with the way it wrapped itself tautly and slimily around his shaft. Mind, it wasn't exactly tight... but he had a feeling that had less to do with the specific anatomy, and more to do with Slira having, by all accounts, been steadily and energetically stretching it open pretty much since she reached sexual maturity. It meant that it took him a while to build up to an orgasm - but that was fine. _She_clearly wasn't having any trouble climaxing from it...

Regardless, since his hips didn't need any particular direction at the moment, his head was free to look around a bit and take in the now slightly-less-peaceful beauty of the garden. With breakfast squared away, most of the Seraglio's residents were out there, enjoying the sun and the water and each other's company... not necessarily in a sexual way, mind. Indeed, most of them were just swimming, tanning or chatting - other than himself and Slira, the only intimately entwined couple in sight was, surprise surprise, Thielwen and Achidias. Bent at the waist with legs widely-spread, she was handling the centaur's cock with aplomb as usual - it would be months yet before her pregnancy would even start to impede her activities. She was supporting herself on a single hand, for the moment, with the other rubbing her tummy... did Achidias have any idea what was bubbling and sloshing behind the elf's golden butt-plug? Almost certainly not, but then it didn't really affect him either...

It was funny, he thought philosophically as his hips continued to smash into Slira's reptilian rear, that all these Consorts were so willing to share secrets with him, a simple farm-boy turned Concubine, while they kept them from each other. Heck, it wasn't even just_them_... the Empress herself had been willing to let him in on the rather dangerous secret that was Rubicundus' true nature and role. A secret that, thusly, was currently held by two dragons, a Kirin, a demigoddess... and his very own self. He really wasn't sure if he should be feeling flattered or insulted. Did they all simply have great faith in his discretion, or did they simply consider him beneath notice?

Well, it was probably more complicated than either of those, he pondered as Slira moaned lustily beneath him, her tail tightening its grip on his shoulder, pulling him in. Her second orgasm so far, he casually noted as his hips and brain continued to operate independently. On the one hand, he had no political position that could protect him if he drew the ire of the powerful - if the Empress decided that he wasn't sufficiently reliable to be allowed in her Seraglio, he'd be out on his hairy arse in two shakes of a lamb's tail, no questions asked. Heck, if one or more of the Consorts were to approach her with complaints about his reliability or conduct, the same thing would likely happen. So he obviously had all kinds of incentives to stay discreet...

But on the other hand, the fact that he held no political office also meant that he wasn't subject to any kind of conflict of interest. His_only_ purpose was to satisfy the sexual desires of the Seraglio's energetic residents - he didn't have to worry about looking out for the interests of any tribe or race, never mind maintaining the stability of the empire itself. The Consorts were all quite friendly, of course, but the people they represented_often quarreled, and while this never led to anything that could be actually called _arguments, there were occasional... sharp words. Sarcastic remarks. Off-color jokes, even. Well, that was mostly to be expected from any group of housemates, in his experience - back home, he'd shared a house with two of his brothers and one particularly hardworking nymph... and much as they'd all loved one another, of course, that didn't mean that he hadn't occasionally contemplated a bloody end for his loud-mouthed siblings. So really, it made sense that the Consorts would be somewhat reluctant to hand ammunition to someone who just might wind up with a compelling reason to throw it back in their face sometime in the near future. But jolly old Silas? No worries there...

"More..." Slira purred beneath him, and he looked down to find her gazing back over her shoulder, predatory eyes glazed with lust. Her sleek body was trembling with the aftershocks of her third orgasm, and her powerful legs were currently busy pushing her hindquarters back against his thrusts in order to add more force to their mating. "Go... the other way..." she panted. "Fuck me like only you can!" Pulling his thoughts back from their rambling path, he nodded and shifted his grip from her tail to her hips, holding her steady. No more mindless mating - now, he needed to_concentrate_.

He had first discovered the option quite by accident, though Slira of course had been aware of it beforehand - she just hadn't had many opportunities to explore it back home, since it took some fairly specific physical qualities and a good deal of skill to boot. Pulling his cock halfway out, he twisted his hips sideways and up, focusing on the sensations his glans was passing to him the way a thief might focus on the trembling of a lockpick. There it was... a narrow side-path! The somewhat curved head that was part of the inheritance his father had passed him came in handy, here, allowing him to more easily find his way into those tight quarters, and then past the constricting sphincter that attempted to keep it closed.

He'd been surprised at first, of course, but once he'd taken the time to think about it, it did rather make sense. The asshole wasn't really supposed to be penetrated by anything - it was for things heading out, not in. But it was right next to a hole that was supposed to be penetrated... and thus, the gods had wisely decided to provide it with the necessary dimensions and flexibility to handle any such accidental penetration, if not without some discomfort. The result: Anal sex was a thing, and a popular thing at that. Now... the Sirrush had cloacas, so Slira's vaginal canal was basically just part of her anus... but she did_also have a _bladder, and a canal connecting it to the main chute further back. Of course, with such a positioning, there was a risk that a penetrating agent might wind up going down the wrong pipe... and it had been designed accordingly.

It was intensely tight around him as he slowly, carefully, pushed his way inside - carefully holding on to the horny reptile, preventing her from accelerating his entrance. Someone who was just_slightly_ girthier than him - nevermind someone like Achidias - wouldn't have been able to fit there at all. And anyone significantly_shorter_ would barely have been able to reach it,seeing as this particular proto-orifice lurked a good handspan inside the cloaca. Hence, he was the only one who could go there - well, Korlin probably could do the same, with the right shapeshifting, but she was a Kirin, so she could basically do whatever she pleased.

By the time their hips once again collided - albeit with significantly less force than before - his cockhead and the last half-inch or so of his shaft were solidly lodged inside her bladder. Slira groaned, squirming between his hands. "Feels so big in there... so_full_..." The sensation was strange - her cloaca was loose, and her bladder was fairly spacious, so the relatively short urethra stood as a sole point of extreme, almost painful tightness - like a strong fist wrapped around his shaft near the end. Certainly not an unpleasant feeling, though, especially once he started thrusting properly, moving the patch of powerful stimulation back and forth along his length.

They were fairly short thrusts, of course - or rather, they were as long as he could reasonably get away with... he could only pull back to the point where his cockhead rested at the entrance of the little side-path, after all. The thrusts were fairly slow and deliberate, too. He still wasn't entirely certain just how tough her urinary tract really was - and he didn't want to risk doing her serious injury despite her moaned injunctions to go harder and faster. Well, he was picking up some speed, but only slowly - focusing on both his fingers and his ears. A groan more pained than pleasured or an instinctive stiffening of her hip-muscles would tell him if he was pushing the limit.

Maybe he was being overly careful. Maybe her bladder and urethra really_were_ every bit as tough as your average asshole, and the only thing that would happen if he went at it a bit too roughly was some minor, short-lived bleeding. But even she couldn't say so for sure - this particular act was known, but somewhat _mythical_among her own kin, since it required an appropriately-sized partner with a dick that was unusually long without being unusually thick. So he didn't take chances. Every time she invited this particular variant, he'd go a little bit rougher, a little bit faster, carefully gauging her reaction every step of the way.

Not that he was likely to ever be able to just go flat-out, there... for starters, he had to be rather careful on the backstroke, or his crown could easily get stuck on the edge of the urethra as he tried to pull it out of the bladder proper. Indeed, there was rather a lot of technique and focus involved in doing this, beyond just the necessary restraint and watchfulness! A worthy challenge for a professional concubine - but one he was determined to rise to. For now, though, he'd reached a nice, steady pace that was at least fast enough that Slira wasn't complaining about him 'teasing' her, but instead was panting her way to yet another orgasm. His own wasn't far behind.

The Sharptooth's powerful legs trembled, just a bit, as she emitted a long, undulating croon of orgasmic pleasure - considering how strong and sturdy those legs were, Silas estimated that this would have been a full-on knee-buckler for anyone else. Then, with a coupe of short, jerky thrusts, he finished up himself - sighing with relief as the long-building climax finally rolled through him, allowing his surging balls to empty themselves. His cock throbbed as the thick cum poured through it to fill Slira's until then mostly-empty bladder.

Once both of them had managed to regain their breath, Slira sighed happily. "I'll never get tired of that sensation..." she commented dreamily, twisting her rear just a little bit around his still-embedded erection. Presumably, she was referring to the feeling of her bladder being half-full of hot, thick cum - his loads were_usually_ quite voluminous, but with such a lengthy session leading up to the final release, it had gotten both bigger and thicker. Well, it was always nice to get positive feedback from a happy customer, regardless! "Glad you're enjoying yourself. Anything else before I leave, m'lady?"

She peered up over her shoulder and back again, smiling toothily. "Yes... keep going until you cum again. I want to feel full to the point of_bursting_ by the time you pull out." Silas sighed and glanced at the shadows that were slowly-yet-steadily moving across the garden. It would take a while to work up a fresh load, but... well, he probably had enough time. "As you like, m'lady..." he replied, and began to move again. Full to the point of bursting, huh? Well, the bladder was designed to stretch, at least to a point, so there shouldn't be any real danger in that...

He quickly built up to the previous level of speed and force and, as before, pushed just a tiny bit past that - before settling down to steadily pound away for the twenty-ish minutes it took his balls to produce a fresh load. Slira, meanwhile, moaned her way through another three orgasms, her legs growing steadily shakier - did the urethra grow extra sensitive after a climax the way pussies and cocks did? Or maybe she just really enjoyed the sensation of his cum sloshing around in her bladder with every thrust. Quite possibly it was the later - at least based on the crooning noise she produced when he finally reached his climax and, as requested, filled her all the way up. If this second cum-load was smaller than the first, it wasn't by a whole lot - he could feel the accumulated goo press against his shaft as it rested inside the now full-up bladder in the aftermath.

Silas remained as he was, fully embedded, for another minute or two as he waited for Slira's last orgasm to finish running its course - and only then pulled out, his cockhead slipping easily through a urethra that felt, by now, slightly less tight than when he'd started. He took a quick step back as his cock left her cloaca entirely, and not without reason - moments later, a white deluge lightly tinged with yellow followed it while Slira moaned, her overstuffed bladder emptying itself rapidly. Staggering a few steps away, she leaned tiredly against a tree and peered back at him. with a smile on her long, scaly lips. "Mmm... thanks, Silas. That really hit the spot."

"Always happy to serve, m'lady..." was his habitual reply as he shook his now steadily-softening cock. A handcloth then emerged from a pouch on his belt, and he carefully cleaned off the remainder of the various juices that still clung to his tool. The cloth was an important tool of his trade - he needed to keep his dick in top form at all times, after all, and not all of the Seraglio's residents were keen on cleaning up after themselves. He then did a couple of quick stretches to work out the kinks that had developed in a few of his muscles after the lengthy session, and gauged the time again with a fresh glance at the slowly-moving shadows. Still plenty of time before lunch...

Slira had cornered him not far from the Seraglio's artistically-wrought main exit, which left him at a convenient location for rehydration - though the lengthy session had sensibly taken place in the shade, he'd still worked up quite a sweat, so it would probably be wise to compensate with a drink or two. Fortunately, he was at the heart of the most extravagant palace in known history, so finding something to quench his thirst wasn't a matter of wandering down to the pond and getting down on hands and knees... which was fortunate, considering that there was a mermaid living in that water, with all that entailed.

Near the exit, a stone table stood, decked with various kinds of drinks - from beer, wine and fruit-punch to various unfermented juices both exotic and not, and even plain old water. And... some kind of brownish thing that was, supposedly, popular in the settlements on and near the southeastern archipelago. It was called 'iced tea', which didn't sound very tasty to him - he hadn't tried it himself, though, so who knew. Regardless, it was all delightfully cool, thanks to the supernatural coldness that radiated from the rune-engraved surface of the table - one of many gifts that the elves had sent for their savior. It had replaced a similar arrangement produced by human wizards, which naturally had been both less elegant and less effective.

He threw back a mug of chilled wine - it was weak, but quite tasty, just like the beer and the punch would no doubt be. Sayn's decision, there - she didn't want her Consorts to wander around tipsy all day. With a fresh mug in hand, he wandered back out into the sunlight and settled down in the shade of a tree by the pondside to watch the day go by for a bit. Of course, he wasn't left to his relaxation for very long - a Faun's work was never done! Soon, Lutra emerged from the water, rivulets running down her fur-covered curves, licking her lips eagerly. With a sigh, he finished his mug of wine and put it aside.

It took the otterkin less than a minute of dexterous tongue-work to coax his limp cock back into full erection, and moments later she was bouncing up and down on it, squatting over his lap. Her nipples, aroused, poked pinkly through her light-brown fur, and he pulled her in closer so that he could suck and lick at them. She moaned eagerly, her remarkably strong hands squeezing his shoulders as she rode him. Neither one of them had said a word - not that it was needed. He and Lutra had always understood one another quite well. Glancing past her armpit he spotted, as expected, Aishee watching from the nearby poolside, eyes intent, tits bobbing on the surface while her hands were busy well below.

He let her continue to set the pace, riding his cock with steadily more speed and force. At least this way, he wasn't working up a sweat again. He felt her tighten forcefully around his shaft as she came, pausing for a few seconds, and then continuing. She only stopped when he reached his orgasm, groaning as he shot his load into her womb, his hands gripping her hips tightly, feeling the shapeliness she hid beneath her fur. They panted for a few seconds, catching their respective breaths, with Lutra still sitting astride his hard cock - drops of his abundant cum starting to ooze out around the edges of her well-stretched labia.

Leaning in, she whispered in his ear - finally breaking the quiet. "Hey... how about you come sit at the edge of the pond for a bit, hmm? There's something Aishee wants to try..." Not waiting for his reply, she screwed her face into an expression of intense focus, and lifted herself up off his towering erection - sending a shiver up his spine as her pussy tightened vise-like around his shaft on the way up. Surprisingly little of his cum answered the call of gravity as his cock slipped from between her labia - showing the impressive strength of the muscles she was now squeezing tight. Grinning up at her as she stood briefly over him before turning on her heels and walking - somewhat gingerly - back to the pond, he nodded. "Certainly, m'lady. Chilling my hooves in the water for a bit sounds delightful."

Shortly afterwards, he was indeed getting his hooves and hocks chilled - but his cock, meanwhile, was enjoying something tight and hot. It was fully embedded in Lutra's asshole as she sat on his lap, back against his chest, legs widely spread - his steady hands holding her thighs up and aside. For now, she wasn't moving - just sitting there, erotically impaled, occasionally moaning as Aishee's eager tongue explored her tender pussy, her shapely lips sucking out his earlier load. The oral delights she was receiving sent occasional tremors up her stretched-open anus, sharing the pleasure with him.

Eventually, a slow orgasm trembled through the panting otterkin, her strong, long-fingered hands pulling the unresisting mermaid's head harder into her wet pussy as she moaned. Silas, meanwhile, gritted his teeth as he felt her ass contract around him in yet another demonstration of the sheer strength of the amphibious beastkin's sleek musculature. Once the panting and the moaning had passed, and Aishee's head been again released, the two women shared a look and a nod. Glancing back at him, Lutra grinned. "Hey, scoot a bit further forwards and lean back, will ya?" He wasn't_entirely_ certain what the two had planned, but... well, only one way to find out!

He carefully pushed his ass far enough forwards that, when he lay back on the grass, his tufty tail wound up slipping over the edge as well instead of getting caught underneath him. His legs were still spread, accommodating Aishee who seemed determined to get an up-close view of the next stage of the fun-and-games, and Lutra was still sitting astride him, now in something resembling a reverse cowgirl, shifting her legs around to find purchase now that he was no longer holding them up for her. Leaning back herself, her hands wound up resting on his broad chest, even as her dexterous feet caught the pond's edge.

In this somewhat diagonal position, she began to ride him - sliding her tight, hot ass up and down, back and forth, along his cock. The layer of pussy-juice and cum it had picked up earlier provided suitable lubrication, and soon they were moaning in unison. His moans, however, soon took on a different edge as he felt a set of soft, tender lips and tongue take advantage of his currently-exposed state - digging into the bottom of his sweaty asscrack to begin prodding and kissing his puckered sphincter. He didn't need to look past the otterkin currently riding his cock to realize what had to be happening - Aishee had moved from being a spectator to being a participant, practicing her nascent rimjob-skills while watching her friend's ass get reamed from little more than inches away. He could feel the contours of her pretty face against his dangling ballsack as she delicately pushed it aside with her nose to lodge herself deeper inside the tangle of sweaty wool that covered his hindquarters.

He could easily have critiqued her hesitant, inexperienced technique, especially by comparing it to Thielwen's, whose practiced tongue tended to find its way into his asshole on a daily basis. Indeed, it was easily to tell that Aishee was far more experienced at stimulating a different kind of orifice. But really, that very sense of uncertainty, the feeling that she was trying something new and daring, rather than just feeding a well-worn fetish, simply added a different kind of appeal... and certainly, when combined with Lutra's eager bouncing atop his cock, her ass hugging his shaft tightly, he was getting more than enough stimulation to rapidly approach another orgasm.

Hands on the otterkin's hips, guiding and accelerating her movements, he reached his climax - and, with gritted teeth, ignored his impulse to push the beastkin-girl all the way down on top of his cock, keeping her there as he shot his load into the darkest depths of her ass. Instead, he pulled her up, holding her in place with the tip of his cock just inside her sphincter. He had a fairly clear idea about the scenario he'd been drafted for by now, after all, and as the Seraglio's sole Concubine (as far as the regular Consorts knew, anyway), it was his duty to make it work as well as it possibly could!

Once his balls had been thoroughly drained and he'd taken a moment to compose himself, he deftly lifted Lutra the rest of the way off of his cock, and deposited her on the pond's edge while simultaneously slipping out from underneath her himself. Aishee was able to transfer her tongue from his own wool-edged crack to her friend's freshly-fucked, cum-leaking anus practically between seconds, and did so with both aplomb and enthusiasm, sucking Silas' hot, freshly-served jizz out of that gaping orifice as eagerly as she'd done for Lutra's pussy earlier.

Silas rose to his hooves behind the two of them, and was just about to reach for his handcloth again when Lutra, leaning well back to give her friend easy access to her tailhole, reached up one long-fingered hand to grasp the base of his cock. Leaning her head back, she grinned up at him. "C'mere, Silas... you played your role perfectly, so the least I can do in return is help you clean up." With her head upside-down, she opened her mouth and curled her tongue in a come-hither gesture. Hesitating for a moment, Silas shrugged and stepped forwards, pushing his semi-hard cock downwards as he guided it towards the waiting lips. Ass-to-mouth wasn't something Lutra fetishized, the way Thielwen seemed to have started doing, but neither did she have hangups about it like Sayn did - rather, she just didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

He let her mouth thoroughly caress his knob as it rested there for a minute or two, before pushing it deeper into her throat. Her neck, straightened by her pose, bulged visibly as his shaft entered it, inch by inch, her tongue licking everything it could reach as it went. By the time he stopped, he was bent over her - embedded in her mouth to the hilt, his heavy ballsack draped across her face like a mask - while, incidentally, providing him with a fine view of Aishee's eager oral exploration at the other end. His cock, which had been softening a bit after he'd shot his load in the otterkin's ass, had fully hardened again - throbbing against the tight constriction of her throat.

Of course, Lutra couldn't breathe like this... but that was one of the advantages of being otterkin, wasn't it? She could easily keep her breath for ten minutes, even as much as fifteen if she'd taken care to fully oxygenate herself prior. Of course, that still meant that he needed to be quick if he wanted this to be anything more than a simple cock-cleaning. Gripping Lutra's furry forearms tightly, he began to flex his hips - vigorously throat-fucking her as he watched Aishee's continued accumulation of rimming-experience.

Most of the time, he tried to hold back a fair bit - delaying his own gratification as much as he could, both to produce a more impressively voluminous load and in order to remind himself that it was the pleasure of his partner that should be his focus, not just getting his own rocks off. He wasn't as good at that as someone like Orichaniel, but he managed. In cases like this, though, he could let loose - here, being quick was a virtue. And he certainly did not lack for either direct or indirect stimulation... so, after little more than six or seven minutes of vigorous pumping, he once again reached a climax - groaning as he shot his less-than-impressive load into the depths of Lutra's gullet, probably depositing it more-or-less directly into her stomach.

With a sigh, Silas relaxed his muscles and straightened up, releasing Lutra's shoulders and stepping back - pulling his cock back out of her throat, pausing only briefly while the head rested within her mouth so that she could lick up the traces of cum that clung to it. Then he stepped the last bit back, leaving her mouth open and panting in his absence. "Much obliged, m'lady..." he said cheerfully, as he pulled out his handcloth and wiped her saliva from his shaft. This kind of 'cleaning' was always good fun, but in the end it didn't actually change how much wiping he had to do by all that much... nor how many handcloths he'd go through over the course of the day. Getting her breath back, Lutra grinned and rubbed her belly. "No problem... hah. I think I've gone and ruined my appetite for lunch, though."

Glancing around, he noted that the shadows had gotten short - the sun was nearly above them, now. He needed to get going, or he'd be late at this rate! No time to stop and smell the proverbial flowers along the way. "Hey, if anyone's wondering why I'm not at the lunch-table, tell 'em I've gone out, okay?" he casually asked the steadily-recovering Lutra as he turned on his hoof - she seemed more alert than Aishee, anyway, seeing as the mermaid was still busy working her tongue around the otterkin's ass. She nodded, a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. "Out, huh? Got a hot date or something?" He shrugged, grinning over his shoulder at her. "I'm meeting one of my brothers for lunch, so... quite the opposite, alas."

Eager as he was to get going, though, there was one more thing he had to take care of before he left the Seraglio - namely, his bladder, which had filled itself up nicely since that morning, aided by the drinks that had kept dehydration at bay. Thus, he quickly bounded into the bushes that lined the park's edges - and found himself almost immediately joined by Thielwen, whose sharp, elven eyes never seemed to fail at spotting him whenever he headed for a secluded spot to take care of business. At first it had just been an occasional thing, but lately it seemed like the only time she didn't pursue him like this was when she had a prior engagement - being either busy fucking one of the other members of the harem, or working in her room.

This had not been the case at this time, so there she was, already getting on her knees before him, licking her lips. "Ah... I'm in a bit of a hurry, m'lady... I fear I don't have time for anything complicated..." he warned, but she just smiled pleasantly. "That's fine, Silas. Nothing complicated - just put your cock on my tongue and piss in my mouth... like always." With a sigh, he did as she asked - pushing his mostly-soft member into her mouth, letting her lips close delicately around the head - and then emptied his bladder. He could feel her tongue resting softly against the tip, ensuring that the flow was directed across it before disappearing down her thirsty throat.

Well, he reflected, it wasn't too much of a hassle to cater - quite literally - to that particular fetish of hers. And at least it didn't prompt that haunted look in her eyes that he sometimes saw when she pressed him into service for other, more debased experiments... whether because she genuinely enjoyed the act, or because she'd just gotten so used to it that it didn't affect her either way. As the flow stilled, he waited for another few seconds as she fastidiously lapped the last few drops from the tip of his cock, then pulled back to let his limp shaft fall back to vertical. "I hope you found that satisfying, m'lady... but do remember to drink something_else_ too, especially in this weather." She didn't reply to this part-lighthearted, part-serious entreaty - but just sat there, on her knees, smiling slightly and licking her lips until he turned and jumped away, towards the exit.

Leaving the Seraglio, he headed to his room. The whole thing about him not having a room in the Seraglio itself was, after all, largely symbolic; he did have a rather tiny room in the palace, down in the servant's quarters, which he essentially never used for anything other than storing his few personal possessions. As usual, he drew a fair few gazes as he bounced through the halls of the castle, buck-naked... dismissive, even disgusted gazes, mostly, with a few lustful ones mixed in, particularly from the palace maids.

It was a bit of a trip, halfway across the sprawling palace-complex - one reason why he hardly ever went there. The door to his chamber squeaked slightly as he pushed it open, and the air inside smelled musty. It must have been at least a month since he last had cause to go there. Only reason everything wasn't covered in dust was that one of the maids occasionally swept and dusted there - they were all technically supposed to keep their own rooms spotless, but having to traipse all the way down there on the regular just to clean seemed a chore and a half... so he'd taken the easier way out and seduced one of the aforementioned maids. In return for some occasional 'service', she took care of it. Come to think of it, he should probably swing by her room sometime soon to once again show his appreciation...

The room had no windows so there wasn't much he could do about the mustiness - came with being located in the basement, which at least kept the quarters nice and cool, even during the summer. He could've claimed one of the nicer_quarters on the ground floor, with a view of the inner patios, instead - thanks to his relatively high status as a personal servant of the Empress herself - but considering how little time he ever spent here, he'd decided to give it a pass. Regardless, there was a perfectly serviceable candle in the wall-sconce, and once lit it spread plenty of light for him to have a look around. The small, hard bed in the corner had never been slept in... which was not to say it had never been _used, of course. The tiny desk beside it, he had occasionally used for writing letters to send back home. Today, though, his target was on the other side of the room - a tall, narrow wardrobe.

Small though it was, it was still plenty spacious for his purposes, as became clear when he opened it - it was mostly empty. On one shelf, neatly folded, were his old clothes from back home - the 'disguise' he'd once worn to hide his true nature. He'd kept it out of some mixture of nostalgia and a vague idea that it might come in handy again at some point. Not that wearing it had been any fun_mind - especially not the special shoes, designed to disguise his hooves, that were now sitting at the bottom of the wardrobe. Indeed, that was part of the reason why he mostly went around naked these days - the sheer _freedom of it was still intoxicating, after having spent so much of his adult life trussed up inside those concealing clothes, lest some passing traveler or merchant spot his goat-legs, horns or ears.

Fortunately, there were other, less constricting, articles of clothing in the wardrobe - not a lot, mind, but some. For starters, the servant's uniform that basically came pre-packaged with these rooms was there - not that anything except the shirt could fit him. He'd still used it, on occasion, during the past winter - but with today's weather, he was perfectly happy going shirtless. So instead, he picked out the most primitive and minimalistic article of clothing - not just in his wardrobe, but probably in general, he reflected sardonically. The humble loincloth - a simple leather flap attached to a rope, or in this case, to the belt that was the only 'clothing' he regularly wore.

Tying it on, he looked down assessingly. It'd do, he decided, for basic 'decency' - which remained something that a lot of people were quite concerned about. There were laws about public nudity, after all, but thanks to the Beastkin, loincloths were officially recognized as 'being decent', so long as your arse was covered too, even if it was just by fur or similar. His own woolly nethers counted for that - he'd checked.

Other than the loincloth, there was one other thing he needed to collect from his room - specifically, from the drawer of the aforementioned tiny writing-desk: A brass emblem depicting the Imperial Coat of Arms, denoting his status as a vetted Palace Servant. He usually didn't bother wearing it, since the guards working in the vicinity of the Seraglio all knew him on sight, but if he headed out into town without it, he ran the risk of not being able to get back in, if the gate-guards should prove less familiar. He took a moment to look at it in the candlelight, grinning slightly, before clipping it to his belt. Every servant who worked in the palace had one - but his was special, unique even.

In addition to the seal at the center, symbols along the top showed what_kind_ of servant the carrier was, which also denoted which areas they had access to. Clerks and secretaries had rather different stomping-grounds than cooks and waiters, after all - and while the cleaners had access virtually everywhere, they weren't allowed anywhere sensitive without a guard keeping an eye on them. _His_emblem, meanwhile, was topped by a ten-sided polygon - a decagon - with a stylized tree in the middle: The symbol of the Seraglio, with its central park and pond lined by the rooms of the eight Consorts, while the Empress' own room and the exit made up the last two sides. It marked him as a servant with access to the Seraglio - the _only_such servant, since all the regular tasks within, from cleaning to weeding and everything in between, were handled by the Beastmaker's servitor-constructs.

Now equipped with his literal badge of office as well as the legally-mandated loincloth, he hopped for the palace's main exit - soon finding himself mingling with a growing stream of people. The Empire never slept, they said - but the palace did close its doors at night, so visitors and supplicants had to get their business out of the way while the sun stood high in the sky. The palace complex was immense, and still growing - as he squeezed through the flow of mostly-but-not-solely humans, he could see the ongoing construction-work that was still happening around the periphery - and most of it was far less peaceful and leaned-back than the Seraglio that he now called home.

The greatest empire the world had ever known - that was a title that could be applied to Sayn's dominion without argument. Even the Elven Empire at the height of their golden age hadn't covered such an expanse, not least because the Southern Continent hadn't been discovered yet in those days... and it certainly hadn't even _tried_to be such an immensely complex melting-pot of cultures and races. The Consorts had plenty to do, when they weren't working off their stress with frequent, sexual games - but below that level, there were millions of minor issues that had to be addressed every day, handled by the imperial bureaucracy, the senators, the imperial courts, and the various other cogs in the great machinery of governance. There were hundreds of meeting-rooms and thousands of offices in the palace already, and most of them were in use every day.

Well, the traffic would eventually be reduced, he reflected as he hopped down the avenue that led from the palace gates to the Capital City that had grown up around it. At the moment, there were still precious few Ansibles in existence, which meant that the one in the Palace served as a major node of communication for most of the heavily-populated southwestern region of the continent. As the elves' hardworking workshops churned out more, this role would be reduced - every major city would have its own, ushering in a new (or, arguably,old) era of instantaneous, long-range magical communication. It helped that those workshops weren't just manned by elves and less-experienced-but-more-numerous human mages at this point - but also, based on chatter he'd overheard in the Seraglio, two young dragons who'd decided that such labors were both less humiliating than providing passenger-flights or cargo-transportation, and less unpleasant than giving up a portion of their income to the ardent, imperial tax-collectors. Early signs of the dragons integrating with the rest of society - something that had clearly made Rubicundus quite happy. Well, that 'private meeting' he'd had with the Empress afterwards, to 'discuss the implications' had probably helped with that too... heh.

Still, the palace and the city would probably always be busy and crowded. 'The center of the world', they called it now! The Capital, which he was now hopping merrily through, had started out as little more than a tent-city for the workmen and pilgrims working on the palace - and it seemed like it still has a population made up mainly of craftsmen and laborers. Nevermind the still-ongoing construction on the palace itself - the Capital was a flurry of endless construction-work, expanding steadily outwards as new foundations were poured, walls rising overnight like mushrooms after the autumn rains. Housing-blocks, storefronts, restaurants, mansions... not to mention the kind of upscale clubs, coffee-houses and brothels that appealed to the residents of those mansions. Many nobles from across the continent had relocated to the Capital from whatever city-state they'd once called home, hoping to use such immediate adjacency to the very seat of power to ensure their own continued wealth and influence... with, from what he'd heard, somewhat mixed results. Regardless, there was certainly enough of them around to create a profitable niche for those who catered to their needs and desires.

The restaurant where he'd booked the table was one of the mid-range, semi-nice places - not targeted at the really fancy nobles, nor at the common workmen, but rather at the middle-class... the scriveners and lawyers, healers and architects, moderately-successful merchants and honest politicians. There were far more of the later than there'd once been, he knew - the corrupt politicians, who used their position and power to enrich themselves and attended the _fancy_restaurants, tended not to last very long within the imperial system, thanks to the tireless, incorruptible eyes of Cybra and, once any kind of suspicion fell on them, the dreaded gaze of the Kirin, Korlin, before whose Eyes of Wisdom no falsehood could survive.

As a Concubine, he was considered a '1st class' servant, as far as the palace paperwork was concerned - putting him on the same tier as the likes of the head chef, the high-ranking clerks, and various other workers who weren't just an easily-replaceable set of hands attached to a warm body. The resulting salary was quite reasonable - and considering that his daily expenses were essentially nil, since he was provided with room and board and cared little for either clothes or luxuries, he could easily afford to splurge on a place like this now and then. Especially if it meant showing off for his less-fortunate siblings a bit!

The head waiter stiffened a bit, his eyes scanning Silas' clothes - or lack of same - as he introduced himself and mentioned his reservation. Then he apparently noticed the badge attached to his belt, and visibly caught himself at it - suddenly turning unfailingly_polite as he bowed and led Silas to his table. Presumably, it had just occurred to him that even if he _was just a simple servant, he still moved freely through the palace - and thus, giving him any reason to speak ill of this particular restaurant,particularly in the context of even the slightest hint_of race-based discrimination, would be a really bad idea. Which, to be fair, was true. He didn't have any power or authority, sure, but he _did know that Sayn took her policies of inclusionism quite seriously, and that his own position within her harem had been intended from the start to protect his brothers against any kind of discrimination. If he did happen to mention to her that any kind of place had denied him service or treated him unpleasantly due to being a Faun... well, that place would soon find itself in hot water. Everybody knew that the Empress, however kind and benevolent, was not opposed to 'making examples' of those who were overly slow in adapting to the new age - as a pair of low-level bureaucrats had infamously learned the hard way a while before he'd arrived at the palace himself.

So, this guy was clearly smart enough to know which way the wind was blowing, and he was certainly making the effort, even if he was clearly still having some trouble adjusting. Not a bad guy, in Silas' measured opinion - so he returned his politeness with a pleasant smile, took his seat, and began to laboriously work his way through the offered menu while waiting for his guest to arrive. Letters had never really been his strongest suit... he'd learned the basics of reading, writing, adding and subtraction in a small, village school, studying under an aging schoolmaster who serviced several of the small settlements in the area - guesting each school for only one day per week, leaving the students free to assist their parents with farm-work or similar the rest of the time.

He'd brushed up a bit since moving into the Seraglio, just so he could more easily carry out correspondence with his family back home and his brothers - now scattered across the continent - but he was still hardly a literary wit, especially when it came to some of the difficult words this restaurant seemed to enjoy putting in its menu. He silently sent up a whispering thank-you for Slira, who had so eagerly helped him with his studies - a thank-you for his frequent 'services', she'd said, clarifying that regardless of how he was 'employed' at the Seraglio specifically to see to the residents' sexual desires, she had been raised in a society where everyone simply helped one another to the best of their ability, providing services in return for services, with no need to measure them in coin. And the Empire was built on a basis of tolerance towards cultural differences, no? So he'd best shut up and let her help him straighten out his abominable spelling and grammar...

It still amused him that he'd been taught his letters - at least, far more of them than his harried schoolmaster had managed in his youth - by a fearsome-looking reptile who had not even known the _concept_of a written language before arriving in the palace. By now, though, her terrible claws - the tip dipped in ink - could write as elegantly as any scrivener's pen. Truly, the Sirrush tribes were a fearsome lot - not because of the sheer size of the Muhuru-Ngobou, nor the deadly, natural armament of the Sharptooth, but due to their incredible capacity for learning and memorization. Despite the geographical distance and the vast cultural gap, both tribes were already integrating more rapidly and effectively into the Empire than some of the races of the old continent...

He put those thoughts aside as his guest arrived - his older brother, Bailey, far more dressed than he, despite the heat. He quickly rose to share a hug with him - confirming, in the process, that his burly bro had, as expected, sweated clear through the back of the elegant shirt he wore. In addition to the shirt, he carried - though at least didn't wear - a dinner-jacket, and even sported a carmine bow-tie. Rather than a loincloth, he had covered his thighs with a rather tight-looking pair of short hoses - with a small hole in the back for his tufty, sheep-like tail. Amusingly, those pants concealed far less than Silas' loincloth, since their sheer tightness created a very detailed bulge in the groin-area... and halfway down one of the pants.

"Long time no see, Silly!" Bailey proclaimed, grinning over his own menu as he lifted it to scan the dishes - for about ten seconds, before flipping it over to instead look over the selection of wines on offer. "Boy, you sure look under-dressed... don't they pay you at the palace, bro? I thought it was just a rumor that you had to sleep in the palace gardens like a bum..." Silas lifted an eyebrow, and made a big show out of drying his hands - which had just smacked against Bailey's sweaty back - with a napkin. "It's called dressing for the weather, Big Bee. 'sides, while I certainly could turn up clad in the finest silk and dripping gold and gems from every finger, I wouldn't want to upstage one of my dear, older brothers... might make him feel sad about how little he has accomplished by comparison with me, for all that he's had several more years in which to do it!"

They fenced like that for a few minutes, before a waiter arrived to take their orders. Silas requested a dish he'd managed to decipher sufficiently to feel confident that he'd enjoy it, while Bailey confidently stated his order - with near-perfect pronunciation - despite having barely glanced at the menu and ordered wine for the both of them. "I get the feeling that you visit places like this more often than I do..." Silas commented, somewhat bemused, once the waiter had retreated with a bow. Bailey shrugged. "Well,usually I visit fancier places than this - as my mistress' escort, you know - but once you've mastered the Fancy Restaurant, the Semi-Fancy Restaurant is pretty easy by comparison."

"Ah yes..." Silas replied, nodding exaggeratedly. "I suppose that makes sense. Of course, I don't have much cause to visit restaurants, since I eat at the Empress' table every night." Putting the verbal fencing aside for a bit, he quickly leaned forwards over the table and, before his brother could finish rolling his eyes and coming up with a retort, changed the subject. "So, everything's working out well at your new... place of work? Settled in a'right, and all that?" Bailey nodded expansively. "Oh yes! The Empress really did us a good turn, making this kinda' thing an option... and, credit where credit is due, I suppose you_played some _minor role in it too, Silly."

Silas snorted at the nickname that had pursued him since earliest childhood, and which he'd long-since given up on getting his many brothers to stop using. "Yeah, most of the family seems to have been eager to take advantage... hardly any left back in the old country, 'cept a few of the eldest." Indeed, apart from a handful of the most white-bearded of the Fauns, all of their brothers had, by now, found gainful employment as concubines for bored noblewomen throughout the continent. "I'm a bit surprised at how smooth it's gone, honestly..." he confessed, leaning on his hand. "I mean, I've got a whole harem keeping me busy, or at least the female half of it, but the rest of you... how're you managing with just a single woman? Dunno what the sex-drive of the average noblewoman looks like, but..."

Bailey laughed, leaning back in his chair. "A single woman, eh? Sure... right at first. These days, I've got five, which keeps me nice and busy." Silas raised an eyebrow. Not so much because five was more than he had to deal with, generally speaking - Slira, Lutra, Thielwen and Sayn herself were the only ones who generally called upon him, with Aishee generally preferring 'secondhand' involvement, and only rarely asking for an outright fuckin'. Korlin, meanwhile, never requested his services - the only times he'd found himself amorously entangled with the Kirin was as part of larger orgies, or when he found himself sharing the Beastmaker's bed with her.

"Cheating on your mistress - that is, your employer?" He asked, keeping his tones somewhat low - the restaurant wasn't exactly crowded, and the two of them were getting a fair few stares, but hopefully the general din would make it hard to overhear them. "Sounds rather risky, if you ask me." Bailey rubbed his chin, looking slightly shamefaced. "It's not cheating... well... not all of it, anyway. I mean, she's given me permission to service one of the other women, so that's basically the same as acknowledging that I'm not _exclusively_hers, right? And besides, she's married, and her husband _does_manage to visit her bedroom on occasion, so it's not like we've got some kind of monogamous thing going in the first place..."

Sighing, Silas shook his head. "Big Bee... seriously. I'd ask what the exact terms of your employment look like, but I can tell just from what you just said that you wouldn't be able to answer anyway. I bet you just skipped half the document and signed on the dotted line once you'd heard the 'have sex, get paid, room and board included' part. You should probably check when you get home, but chances are you'll get fired if you get caught - might even have to pay a hefty fine or something, depending on what kind of small print you ignored. Just what kind of mess have you made for yourself?"

Bailey didn't have a chance to immediately answer - their food arrived, in a rather timely manner, suggesting that the head waiter had possibly mentioned his badge to the kitchen-staff as well, and requested an expedited order. It looked, and smelled, pretty tasty - though, of course, it couldn't quite live up to the delicacies that bedecked the Empress' table on a daily basis. The head chef, eccentric though he was, hadn't been picked at random when it came time to hand control of the palace kitchens to someone. The wine, though, was honestly just as good as what he usually saw on the table back home! Whatever razor-edge his dear brother was currently walking, it couldn't be denied that he'd managed to pick up some impressive wine-connoisseur chops from his current lifestyle.

Once the waiter had retreated again, Bailey quietly explained the details of his situation between mouthfuls of... something near-unpronouncable that looked to be seafood of some kind? Early on, he'd just been dealing with the Lady of the House, his employer - but, after the 'newness' of having a well-hung Faun at her beg and call wore off, her appetites declined somewhat, and he found himself a bit... backed up. So he'd been more than eager to jump in when she'd mentioned the possibility of him servicing another noble lady... namely, her widowed mother. "Quite the looker for her age, really... and quite the appetite, too!" Bailey declared with a dirty grin. Of course, she was getting up there, so he had to be rather gentle with her - hence, she was hardly a proper outlet for his accumulating sexual energies.

An outlet was found when he noticed that a fair few of the house maids were throwing jealous eyes at him whenever he exited the chambers of one of the two noble ladies... and throwing bedroom-eyes at him besides. It didn't take much suggestive conversation 'just between us servants' to land himself a pair of casual lovers, upstairs maids with frustrated libidos and very fetching uniforms. Whenever the lady of the house and her mother left him 'unused' for too long, it was usually quite easy to sneak off with one or the other for a quick fuck in a broom-closet or the washroom or the pantry or... well, the maids knew lots of good places for it, was the point. Some more hygienic than others, but hey, they could always be counted on to swiftly clean up any trace evidence!

Alas, they'd eventually been caught at it... several times, apparently. Eventually, the daughter of the house had approached him, quietly, alone, and let him know that she'd seen him entertaining the maids a number of times... and if he didn't want her to mention this to her mother, well, she was a growing girl with growing needs, and her parents hadn't found a suitable 'match' for her yet, sooo... Silas groaned, while Bailey shrugged, grinning a bit guiltily. "Oh, come on... I may have been caught, but this particular kind of blackmail I can kinda' live with, ya know? And the girl's got stamina, let me tell you. Reminds me of the nymphs back home..."

Silas put down his utensils for a moment just so he could hide his head in his hands for a moment and groan properly. "Seriously, Big Bee... what were you thinking? The maids is one thing, you might've been able to talk your way outta that, but the daughter?_You know that humans - particularly _nobles - put a lot of stock in 'virginities' and all that, right?" Bailey nodded sharply, scowling. "Of course I know! And so does she! Her cherry's perfectly intact, I assure you. We've stuck with... ah... oral entertainment, of various sorts. And... anal, eventually. Turned out she had quite a taste for that... which suits me just fine since neither her mother nor her grandmother do, and the maids are a bit reluctant on that token too..." his face faded rapidly from anything that could be even charitably defined as 'guilty' towards 'lustful', only to snap back into a scowl when Silas groaned again. "Well, what was I supposed to do when she gave me that ultimatum? You said yourself that it'd be bad if my lady learned about the maids..."

Silas shook his head sadly. "Obviously what you should've done at that point was to immediately confess, affecting suitable contrition... you do know how to act, right? 'cuz I'm under no illusion that you could manage any of the genuine sort. Tearfully admit that you'd been seduced by the feminine wiles of the help, citing that Fauns like you have more virility than any one woman - or, for that matter, two - can handle alone. Ya know, the whole 'it's just a Faun-thing' line. Assuring her, along the way, that you would of course restrain yourself in the future... if that was her orders. Had you taken that tack, I'd give better-than-even odds that she'd outright have allowed you to continue screwin' the maids, so long as it didn't interfere with either your duties or theirs - and she'd definitely have forgiven you. We Faun aren't so plentiful that she could simply replace you, after all! At that point, the girl wouldn't have had anything to hold over your head, and now you would have dirt on her, namely the fact that she'd been peeping on you repeatedly."

Bailey's mouth open and closed a few times as Silas rattled off that spiel, and finally he shook his head dejectedly. "Damn, Silly, when'd you get that clever? I mean... I can see that the sheep's already out of the paddock at this point, but I think it probably would've worked as you say..." Silas shrugged, trying his best to hide how much the compliment pleased him. "Well, I spend all day hanging around some of the cleverest people on the continent. Some of it was_bound_ to rub off over time... I've learned a lot just from watching the Flower-Dragon Consort, Orichaniel, at work. The guy's basically a masterclass in manipulation and seduction, disguised as a flower with legs. It's honestly astounding that it's possible to be such a deft puppet-master when you don't even have hands..."

Leaning back, he emptied his wine-glass and poured another as he waited for Bailey to ask the obvious next question. "So... what do I do_next?_ I mean... I thought I was doing all right, screwin' three generations of women from the same family and a few maids on the side, but... it sounds like I might've just screwed the proverbial pooch while I was at it, huh?" Silas nodded slowly. "You definitely did, Big Bee - and with passion, at that. With that many people involved... sooner or later, someone'll catch on. The maids are probably staying silent 'cuz they fear for their job, but what'll happen if one of them gets fired on other grounds? Suddenly, they won't have any reason not to let the mistress of the house know that they've been 'borrowing' her favorite toy, just as a spiteful farewell salute. If she starts looking into those accusations, keeping track of your whereabouts, she might even catch you with her daughter too. And then you're screwed yourself. Scandal like that, word gets around - even though there are lots of noblewomen eager to pick up a Faun of their own, they'll probably be hesitant to hire one who's got a reputation for preying on noble daughters..."

Bailey swallowed and looked down at his plate of probably-seafood as if he'd just lost his appetite. "And then it's back to Laswell with me... back to herding sheep and tilling fields all day, and eating_haggish_ instead of archipelagic cuisine. Drinking homebrew instead of West Bay vintages. Dammit. Shoulda' kept my dick in my pants, since the lady's been so good as to buy me some anyway..." Silas nodded, then sighed. "Well, let's not be unrealistic, here - that was never going to happen. Heck, I wonder how many of our brothers are in similar straits right now! If nothing else, I expect there's quite a few bow-legged maids staggering around the mansions of various noble ladies these days."

Leaning back, he sipped the new glass of wine while his mind churned. What_could_ Bailey do about his present situation? ...what would Ori_have done? Hrm. Well, thinking of it _that way... "Okay, Big Bee, spread those great pointy ears of yours wide and pay attention..." he declared sharply, leaning forward intently. His brother mirrored this, ears indeed twitching. "First of all, when you get home, wait for the next time your mistress is in a good mood. Ideally right after you've finished servicing her thoroughly. Then, you do the stuff I already said - cotton to the maids, on your knees if necessary. Not to the daughter_, obviously_. Do_not_ mention any names, either - women don't like that kind of kiss-and-tell. Just... 'a couple of the maids', unless she specifically demands their names, and even then, be obviously reluctant. If she winds up forbidding you from boinking the maids in the future, well, that's the price you gotta pay."

Baily nodded slowly, face serious for once. "A'right... that'd be one less thing to worry about, if you're sure she won't come down on me for it... what 'bout the daughter, though? I suppose she won't have anything to hold over my head anymore, then, so..." But Silas quickly shook his head. "No, no... do not try to break off your relationship with her! Actually, you should make sure to... sneak into her room, or whatever you two do to get it on, right after you've squared things with her mother. Make it_clear_ to her that you've no intention of ending your relationship. If you tried, she'd just wind up blackmailing you with your previous doings, cementing the whole thing as just a blackmail-based relationship."

"But don't just keep things going with her as always..." he continued, wagging his finger warningly. "Escalate. Charm_her. Tell her that you're coming to her because you _like her. Don't start throwing around the big L-word, or anything - just call her beautiful, sexy, hot, whatever. Speak of the pleasure she brings you, her curves, the look on her face when she cums, her taste- whatever you can say convincingly... better yet if it's actually_true_. And step it up a notch when you're together. Don't just get your rocks off, focus on getting her off, as many times as you possibly can. Seduce her. Get her hooked. And while you do, make sure to remind her that your relationship has to stay secret, that if it gets out, it'll be a big scandal and you'll be kicked out of the house so you'll never be together again!"

A smile spread on Bailey's face. "Ah, I get it... get her hooked on my cock, yeah? That way, she'll be careful to keep our secret, and she definitely won't talk..." Silas shrugged. "That's half of it, yeah. But you really do have to make sure that you mention the_scandal_, more than once even. Like... planting the seed in her mind, ya know? See, even if she is discreet, there's still the chance that someone will figure it out and blow the whole thing. Or you could just screw up and get caught, like you did with the maids. You're on borrowed time, honestly, so... work fast."

The smile turned to confusion, and Bailey blinked uncertainly. "Uh... okay, but... what good is it going to do to mention the scandal to her so many times?" Sighing, Silas shrugged. "Maybe nothing. Depends on how smart she is, but hey, she managed to figure out that you were boinking the maids while her mom remained oblivious, and even used it to blackmail you. Suggests she's got initiative, anyway. The idea is that when - not if - the two of you finally get revealed as secret lovers, she'll_be your ally, not your enemy. In such a situation, after all, her best bet would be to suggest that _you initialized the relationship, seducing her... or even claiming that you were blackmailing her after catching her innocently peeping at you and the maids, if she's really ruthless! That way she won't get in trouble. Throwing you under the horses, as it were. You could even wind up in prison if it sticks!"

Bailey shuddered - obviously, that possibility had never occurred to him. "She... wouldn't really do that..." he protested, though his voice wasn't all that certain. Silas grinned. "Well, it's up to you to make sure she won't. Instead, when her mom finally finds out, she'll try to defend you - by suggesting that kicking you out would just ensure that the whole affair ends up as a big scandal, harming the entire family name. If nothing else, making it general knowledge that she's been repeatedly moaning her heart out with a fat faun-cock lodged up her ass might deter some of the suitors her parents are searching for so eagerly! On the _other_hand, if mummy just... looks the other way, well, no scandal, and everybody gets to keep having a good time."

Wrinkling his brow, Bailey sighed, nodded, and drank a big gulp of wine before taking a deep breath. "A'right. I think I get it all now. Are you really sure it'll work that way, though?" Silas could only shrug and try to avoid his big brother's eyes. "Course I'm not sure. I've never even met any of these people, and a lot will depend on your ability to get this girl hopelessly addicted to your cock. I just think it's your best bet. And hey, if worst comes to worst, I'll be sure to bail you outta the slammer... and get you a ticket back to Laswell! What is family for, eh?"

They talked about lighter topics for some time after that, while half-heartedly finishing their dishes. The desserts helped perk them back up again - but then, inevitably, the topic bounced back. "Ya know, every now and then, at some party or other, a noblewoman or one of her servants will approach me and ask if I'm 'happy with my current position'... heh." Bailey declared with a grin, only for it to then curdle as he sighed. "Though, I don't doubt that'd change if I got the kind of reputation you were talking about... on the other hand, maybe the ones that only have sons..?"

Silas, though, shook his head. "Don't count on it. Haven't you heard about li'l Ethan? I'd be surprised if you hadn't - it's all over the noble gossip-circles. Pretty much has to be to make it all the way into the Seraglio." Bailey hesitated for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I get ya..." It had been a bit of a favorite topic a month or two back, making the rounds as only a good, scandalous, erotic story could. Ethan had been hired as the concubine of the young Lady DeLiber, to the much-publicized consternation of the young Lord DeLiber. The couple had a few semi-public rows abut the matter... only for them to suddenly die out.

How, exactly, the details had gotten out was anybody's guess, but odds were that some curious and/or nosy noble had bribed one of the house's servants. Regardless, once obtained, they had clearly judged it too good a secret to keep to themselves. Apparently, Ethan was busily servicing both the Lady and the Lord these days, with equal enthusiasm. Indeed, the rumors had even specified that the Lord was usually at the bottom of that particular arrangement, moaning as sweetly as any lass. After the initial surge of shame, the DeLiber-couple had - wisely - decided to lean into the rumors rather than try to loudly deny them, especially since doing so would only serve to confirm, in most eyes, that they were true.

These days, the DeLibers frequently appeared together in public with their Faun on hand - both sharing similar displays of affection with him, stopping just short of the Lord DeLiber shouting "Yeah, I get arse-reamed by a Faun every night, what are y'all gonna do about it, eh?" from the rooftops. The answer to that particular question, in the current political and social environment, was - of course - 'act like it's no big deal, since doing anything else would smell like bigotry and attract the ire of both the Church of the Beastmaker and, potentially, the Beastmaker herself'. Regardless, by now, it was general knowledge that Faun, in general, were just as happy to be of service to any men whose taste ran in that direction. A few other noble couples had been revealed to take advantage of this, but of course, now it wasn't a _scandal_anymore, so those rumors barely even got mentioned.

And, of course, the upshot of all that was that any daughter-less noblewomen would have due cause to worry that their sons might wind up seduced by a horny Faun concubine - which, despite their protestation that such things were no big deal, really, they would almost certainly consider far worse. Meanwhile Silas, keen to guide the topic back to safer waters before the delicious desserts were soured too, quickly decided to use the story as a jumping-off point for another quick change of subject. "Which reminds me, how's the man of the house dealing with your presence these days?"

This was, of course, a good way to strike up a fairly safe bit of chatter with any Faun these days, save the few who remained back in Laswell. In Bailey's case, the Lord was managing by largely not being present himself, as it turned out - though that apparently wasn't a new strategy. Indeed, the Lady had decided to hire him in the first place because her husband was so busy she hardly saw him once a week, and rarely to stay the night! He wasn't really the kind of nobleman who'd been so busy screwing around with his now-public Beastkin mistress or visiting upscale brothels that he'd neglected his actual wife - rather, he was seemingly just a workaholic, or perhaps just _really_driven.

Apparently determined to secure the fortunes of his family in these changing times - which was a noble enough cause, so to speak - he spent an inordinate amount of time at the palace, and just as much in the nearby city of Mosvaruch, dealing with the merchant houses there, 'diversifying his portfolio', whatever that meant. Indeed, he'd had a mansion built at the capital and relocated his whole family there expressly for that purpose. Once Bailey described the man, Silas thought he could almost recall having spotted him in the more populated parts of the palace, at times when he'd had occasion to venture out there. Busily ingratiating himself with various senators and high-ranking bureaucrats, no doubt, which wasn't _necessarily_a bad thing so long as no money was changing hands.

Regardless, after some initial arguments, he'd apparently come to accept the current arrangement, with the caveat that whenever he did make it home for the night, Bailey would scrupulously stay out of sight, and particularly out of the master bedroom. What happened there when he was out and about, securing the fortunes of their family and the future of their daughter, as he'd loudly declamated, was none of his business... apparently. "Sounds like you won't be finding another outlet for your energy there..." Silas had joked, prompting an amused chuckle from Bailey. "More's the pity - he's actually a rather handsome chap, when he's not scowling. I can see how my lady fell for him originally."

Eventually, dessert and wine alike squared away, they chatted for a bit more over their empty plates - with Bailey needling him for more details about his life in the Seraglio, grinning knowingly as he stuck his nose in the air and declared that he couldn't share such 'confidential information' as the sexual preferences of the noble Consorts. "Hah. I bet that means you've screwed the whole lot of them - guys and girls alike, two legs or four - 'spreading the love to all thinking beings', as your lady says we all should!" This, at least, he could conclusively deny, much to his brothers apparent disappointment... though, he admitted privately, _only_because K'teshi had steered clear of him throughout. The proud griffon was, in all appearances, the only truly straight arrow in the entire harem, especially considering how readily all the girls indulged in sapphic pleasures of every stripe.

After picking up and paying the bill - which, by itself, sparked a brief argument with his brother, who quickly declared that he was getting paid quite well himself, thank-you very much - their little party was ready to break up - but just as Bailey was about to rise from his seat, Silas made a flash decision and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him in for a quick whisper. "Hey, Big Bee... that lord of yours, with all his schmoozing at the palace and such... if you pick up any hint that he's getting into something genuinely shady, you'll let me know, won't you?"

Bailey hesitated, face conflicted. "I dunno..." he mumbled, looking away. "That'd be bad for the whole family, wouldn't it? Him getting caught in something... and they've been good to me, ya know?" Silas shook his head sharply, however. "Don't think like that. Think of this: If you know something, or even suspect_something, then you'll be complicit when he _does finally get caught, which he will. There's a Kirin in the Seraglio, lest you forgot - and it's no lie what they say about her eyes. They can see right through your very soul when she fixes them on you! And if you're complicit in those crimes, it'll reflect badly on_our_ entire family! This easy life you're living - instead of hobbling around in disguise-shoes, herding sheep back home in Laswell, it's all thanks to the grace of the Empress. So remember_the gratitude you owe her - and _tell me if you hear something."

Bailey, his face unusually serious, swallowed and slowly nodded. "I hear you, Silas... I don't like it much, but I hear you. You really have_been getting awfully clever lately, haven't you? You sure you ain't a Consort?" Forcing a grin, Silas shrugged. "Eh, who knows? They say that you are what you eat, so by now I may as well be..." And on this joke - and the resulting, half-forced, half-dirty laugh, they parted. As he hopped away from the restaurant, Silas wondered if he'd done the right thing. It had just popped into his head - maybe because he'd been thinking about how the likes of Orichaniel solved problems earlier. Most of his brothers were ensconced in a variety of noble houses across the realm. Nobles who, regardless of how 'progressive' an image they were trying to project, were all scrambling to maintain the power and wealth they'd always enjoyed. Many of them would probably be willing to step outside the law to do so... making the Faun in general a potentially useful network of_spies, if he could arrange it.

And maybe if he could demonstrate such usefulness, he could extract a few favors from the Empress. He didn't want to just ask Sayn to fix everything - didn't want to trade on their... closeness, intimacy perhaps, if not actual friendship. But offering an Empress a useful service, in return for some helpful concessions... that was another matter. That was how governance worked, wasn't it? Tit for tat, back-scratching all 'round. Many of his brothers were probably juggling similar issues to Bailey, but he couldn't invite them all_for dinner, nor unravel their individual troubles one by one - a more broad solution had to be found. And then there was the fact that had been so lightly brushed over... their numbers. Maybe they weren't a_proper race, like the elves or the centaur, but that didn't change the fact that they were growing fewer and fewer. Only fallow ground could grow the seed of the Faunus - and such ground was growing steadily rarer in Laswell, thanks to their honored father's long labors. The solution was both blindingly obvious and comparatively simple, but it'd still take the hand of the empire itself to implement it...

He'd planned to knock on Sayn's door as soon as he got back to the Seraglio, so that he could discuss matters with her - but the moment he stepped through the elegantly-wrought doors, his loincloth and badge safely stashed back in his disused chambers, he was pulled aside by Thielwen. The elf figured, correctly as it turned out, that his bladder had to have mostly refilled over lunch, especially since it had run rather long. And after he'd once again emptied it down her throat, well, he wasn't in a hurry anymore, was he? So she could take her time afterwards, licking the sweat off his dangling ballsack before burying her face in his arse. Thanks to the wool covering, quite a lot of sweat had built up there during lunch, and she eagerly lapped it up before getting down to the usual, deep tonguing of his sphincter.

In the end, he had to push her away, telling her that bladder aside, something else had also filled up by now and needed emptying. A haunted look suddenly appeared in her eyes, and he gritted his teeth as a dark smile spread across her lips. "That's fine..." she said, panting, a line of drool descending from the corner of her mouth. "When you're done... I'll help you clean up... actually, you don't mind if I watch, do you?" He did, in fact, quite a bit... the feeling that her reasons for doing stuff like that were just plain wrong was growing stronger. But what could he do? It was still just a vague feeling, and... while he didn't understand how or why, she somehow_needed_ this, apparently. So, in the end, he went along with it, trying not to squirm too obviously.

By the time that was all over and done with, and he'd returned to the Seraglio's central park, he immediately spotted its owner - rather occupied, at the moment, what with being on her hands and knees with Korlin, in her true, spectacular form, pounding her ass with impressive speed and force. Underneath her, Orichaniel was lying on his back, in a sixty-nine position - his cock deep in her throat, and his long, dexterous tongue dancing around her pussy. Considering that this obviously wasn't the time to approach her with a political idea, he didn't particularly mind when Lutra - apparently turned horny from watching that display - called on him to join Achidias and K'teshi, who'd just returned from yet another flight, in an attempt to fill all three of her holes with their hot cocks.

This was accomplished, in the end, only when K'teshi reluctantly agreed to tuck in his wings and roll over on his back so that Lutra could sit astride his loins. Then Achidias got on top, leaving Lutra groaning as the Griffon's huge knot expanded in her pussy even as the Centaur's stallion-sized tool squeezed its way into her compacted ass. And Silas, of course, had to lodge himself into the middle of that mess of fur and feathers so that he could thrust his cock down her throat... hoping, along the way, that K'teshi didn't mind the view too much.

And when that fuckpile finally collapsed sweatily, Aishee demanded attention. The mermaid had eagerly watched the two displays, and while she'd obviously rubbed herself to any number of orgasms, she clearly wasn't sated. Rather, she went on about how she was tired of watching her friends get double-penetrated all the time, or even_triple_ penetrated, while the close proximity of her pussy and ass - basically, the two holes were just right above one another, right down by the v-edge of her fishlike tail - made it impractical for her. Couldn't the boys think of some way to accomplish it, though..?

Some experimentation followed, resulting in some inventive sweat-words and a few splashes as one or another of the would-be participants slipped on the shallow plateau that was usually used when Aishee wanted a proper dicking. The final success was only made possible thanks to Korlin, who eventually took pity on them and joined in. Working together with Silas while in her hermaphrodite form, the two of them pulled it off - with Silas taking the mermaid's pussy while Korlin, so close behind him that she was outright hugging his hips, pushed into the tight asshole underneath. At the same time, K'teshi was able to back up to that arrangement and dip his hips so that Aishee could suck on the barb-lined tip of his cock. Moving was... awkward at best, with him and Korlin having to essentially move in perfect unison lest they nudge one another and fall over, but Aishee seemed to be enjoying the experience immensely.

Inevitably, the scene ended with a foot - or maybe a hoof, it was hard to say - slipping, and the two of them taking a tumble into the water. A rather sudden pull-out, but Aishee had clearly had fun, and the somewhat comedic ending wasn't bad either. Especially not on such a hot day. Afterwards, everyone was either swimming or lounging by the poolside engaging in less strenuous sexual play. Silas spied Sayn, sucking Korlin's cock while the Kirin leaned against a tree. She really seemed to be working on her ass-to-mouth hangups, he reflected - even if she still seemed to prefer it involving her true beloved. Well, if any ass in the Seraglio could be said to be thoroughly clean at all times, it was probably Aishee's...

Regardless, it was a tender scene - not one he wished to interrupt. And then it was dinner-time. The great table they shared often saw a lot of shop-talk, technically, but only in the sense of discussing recent events or asking advice about problems. It wasn't really a suitable forum for broaching big things, like new ideas about accessing an already-in-place spy-network. Then, right after they'd all finished and returned to the Seraglio, he once again found himself ambushed by Slira. "You're going to be sleeping in the garden again, aren't you?" she purred, carefully keeping him cornered. "No matter how much I ask you to share my nest tonight, hmm?" This, he had to confirm. It was still hot, even with the sun sinking, and it'd no doubt be a warm night. "Well, I'd better get you to stretch my cloaca now, then..." she declared, and spun around to lift her tail.

By the time she was finally sated, Sayn had retreated to her room for the night, along with Rubicundus and Korlin. The submissive dragon was probably in for quite a night, Silas figured and sighed. Well, there was always tomorrow... assuming he could manage to tear himself away from the harem's lusty ladies for five minutes at _that_point. For now, as darkness fell, he looked around for a nice, soft spot in the grass where he could watch the stars. It had been a busy day, and he needed his rest - tomorrow, most likely, would be just as packed...

---

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE

Name: Silas Barlow

Titles: Imperial Concubine (purely a work-title - it comes with no authority or special privileges save access to the Seraglio)

Age: 28 (Faun life-expectancy is slightly higher than human, at around 120 years, and they tend to remain highly vigorous until the last decade)

Sexual Profile: Faun in general are bisexual, though with a noticeably greater attraction towards women - and Silas appears to be no exception. As the son of a creature who could be called the physical manifestation of male virility and fertility, he possesses a strong, psychological drive towards sex, and near-bottomless appetites as well as virility. His own tastes seem to run towards simple things, the most primal kinds of sex - 'mating', essentially - but he's generally unprejudiced and eager to celebrate sex in all its forms, so he's always happy to go along with any kinks he's presented with. However, it appears that he's uncomfortable with any perversions that he sees as self-destructive or otherwise harmful...

Psychological Assessment: It is easy to overlook Silas, considering his lack of any official authority - he is merely a servant, whose job it is to satisfy whatever overflow of sexual urges the Seraglio may have. The Faun's easygoing attitude and focus on simple pleasures - be it sex or good food and drink - furthermore seems to mark him as a simpleminded hedonist. Such hasty judgments would be a mistake, however. While hardly a genius, he is a fairly keen-minded young man who is perfectly cognizant of how important his position within the Harem is to his brothers. He serves his purpose eagerly, and enjoys it, but he is no mere walking sex-toy - he has eyes and ears, and a brain between them. Within a place as secure as the Seraglio, where the Consorts and their Empress freely discuss important matters every day, those things can be powerful tools. Thus, regardless of his complete lack of official authority, he could do a lot with a word whispered into the right ear at the right time - and he knows it, too.

Extrapolation: Silas does not appear to harbor any particular reverence for the Beastmaker - though he obviously is grateful to her for enabling him and his brothers to come out of hiding. Like everyone in the Seraglio, he lives constantly under the eye of Korlin the Kirin, so he clearly has no ill intent - but rather than this being due to some deep, personal loyalty or love felt towards Sayn, it's more likely due to him simply realizing that the fortunes of his 'family' has been tied to the Empress' cape. If said fortune disappeared - if, indeed, his presence in the Seraglio came to be a problem for his fellow Faun - it is unlikely that he would stay there, much as he clearly enjoys his work...