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? Breaking the Kallu Chapter 2: Taken to the Block For Anya_Arctic By Draconicon

The effects of the drug lasted for far longer than Anya expected, keeping her floating and barely aware of her surroundings until she was forced to walk through the cold waters of the river mouth. The chill between her toes and underfoot finally shocked the arctic fox free of the lingering effects of...whatever the horse had forced down her throat.

She gasped, her eyes going wide. The sudden tug of the chains around her wrists kept her moving forward, but she was actually aware of what was around her now.

Just ahead was a panther male, his neck bound with a collar of the strange hard stuff that she still didn't recognize. He was naked, completely, his rump muscles squeezing and clenching as he walked, but he had no more clue than she did what was going on. He looked back at her, his eyes wide and fearful, and she knew that she wasn't the only one that was on the verge of breaking down.

Anya smothered her fears beneath a layer of necessity and pride. She was a warrior. Whatever happened, she would be able to handle it. She would be able to get out of this and get back to her people, and when she did that...

Well, it didn't matter what weapons and tools these strangers had. They would be broken beneath the spears of the foxes.

They walked beside the mouth of the river for a few moments before the strangely-dressed horse led them up a nearby hill. Anya recognized where they were. It was at the far end of the river, further than she had ever been before. The hills had always blocked off the end of the mouth, kept anyone from seeing what lived there. The leaders of the tribe had never bothered going for it, since the water was salty and the lands were not good for crops. It was better further inland.

But now...

They crested the hill, and Anya's eyes went wide.

Spread out before her was a settlement bigger than any ten villages put together. Homes and hovels of wood sprang from the ground like trees, some of them rising higher than the tree-houses of the squirrel tribes. Even the shortest was twice the size of the huts back home, and they stood like stone, hard and solid. They would not have fallen before the charge of a bull or the shrieking winds of the summer storms.

Where...how...

This had not been here before. She was sure of that. The elders would have known...wouldn't they?

The chains tugged her again, and the near-naked vixen was pulled along. She tucked one of her tails between her legs, covering herself up a bit, while the other two covered her chest.

All around her were people like the horse, dressed in ways that covered them from their necks to their toes. No fur or flesh besides face and hands seemed to be allowed to show, and they walked with a strange gait. Not the hunter's walk, of stealth and power, nor the farmer's walk of bowed back but strong stride. No, it was a way of walking that made them look like they had never worked in their life.

Further down the wooden town, she could see paths of wood running into the water, and past that, great beasts of timber that were topped with clouds leashed to great stripped trees. They moved with the wind and bobbed with the water, almost as if they were eager to be away.

Are these things...other prisoners? Beasts of their own right? Anya wondered.

She had no answer. All she could do was stare, gob-smacked, at the new things all around her.

As they entered the town, as they walked the streets, she was aware of the eyes on her. Many men stared at her, their eyes wandering up and down her body like she was some piece of meat to be hunted. She clenched her tails tighter about her body, for the first time feeling uncomfortable about being exposed.

She was not the only one that they stared at, either. Some looked at the panther in front of her, while others looked at those behind her. Some even approached the horse at the front of the line, pointing at them and babbling in a tongue that she didn't understand.

It was all too new. It was all nightmarish.

The vixen forced herself to keep breathing, to keep herself calm and to keep from losing control. Her neck ached from the collar and her ass...

What the hell did they put in there?

She couldn't take a step without feeling the huge stretch in her backside, something inside of her dragging this way and that, holding her open and leaving her gasping for breath anytime that she was made aware of it.

And it was holding in the stallion's...seed...from earlier, too, she realized.

What is with these people...

Her walk became less elegant as she was more aware of the plug and the seed inside of her. The mix of heat and slime, the stretch and the slickness was constantly pushing at the back of her mind, demanding that she do something with it. That she push the thing out or, worse, push it further in and slake some of the...desire...that it gave her.

It didn't take long before she started to feel a wetness running down her tails, soaking them and starting to fill the air with her scent. Anya blushed, shaking her head in a vain attempt to clear it from the lust that was still coming.

Stupid...drugs...

It had to be whatever he had fed her before. The drink, the oil...it had to be doing something to her body. It wasn't that the strange humiliation was getting to her. Not her. Not the proud warrior that she was.

Even as she tried to fight it, though, she could feel her asshole clenching down on the plug, pulling on it, trying to get it to move. She did her best to ignore it, looking around her for any and all distractions that she could find.

She found them, alright, though she kind of wished she hadn't.

Anya's jaw dropped as they rounded a corner and found herself looking at a vixen on her knees. The other woman must have been from the red-fox tribe that was a few dozen miles south of her own tribe, judging by her markings. She might even have been a warrior, judging from the old fur patterns and the grooming that she'd received to her tails.

But now...

Now the other vixen was on her knees, a cock in her mouth and her hands all over the balls of the bull that she as serving. There was no shame in her eyes. If anything, there was a sparkle, a need, a hint of desperation there.

Like she wants him to...to use her...

The expression of pure lust and need was so strong and so powerful that Anya almost missed the fact that the other vixen was pregnant, as well. She gasped again, her head turning to stare at the naked woman. Had she been bred here? Was that something that had happened back at home? If she was pregnant, did she carry the child of another fox or that...that...bull?

Her pussy clenched down in fear...or at least, she hoped it was fear. If the drug was making her feel something else about that, she was very, very worried indeed.

The horse led them to a building near the edge of the water. He tied the chain up to a wooden post, giving the boar at the front of the line a stern look before leaving them alone. He walked into the building, disappearing.

This was their chance, she thought.

Anya looked at the chains around her wrists. While her neck was bound with some sort of collar, her arms were not. If she could find a way through the thick material, see if there was a way for her to -

"Ah!"

The arctic fox gasped, turning to glare at the mouse that had appeared at her side. The smaller male didn't seem fazed by her venomous glare, though, and only rubbed his hand down along her ass again.

"You have a fine shape, woman," he said, his voice having the same strange tones to it as when the horse had spoken. "You would look even better if your ass was bouncing on my cock."

She swept her leg up. The kick was fast enough that it managed to collide with the mouse's belly, too, sending him back by three paces and leaving him gasping for air.

The crowd laughed, other strange words filling the air some other, strangely dressed people helped the mouse to his feet. Despite herself, Anya felt a hint of smug satisfaction. His white clothing had been stained with mud, leaving him looking more like a fool.

However, when he was able to look at her, she felt a shiver run down her spine at the sheer hatred in his eyes.

"Hmmph." He snorted, shaking his head. "You will pay for that, if I manage to buy you."

"You will buy nothing. A Kallu woman cannot be bought."

"Heh...you know nothing, vixen."

The mouse turned, making his way into the building before them. Anya put him from her mind. Whatever nonsense he was spouting, she needed to pay more attention to taking care of herself than anything else.

But what if...

She put the thought of being bought out of her head. What she needed to do now was get her arms free.

The vixen put all her thoughts and efforts towards figuring out a way through her bindings, but whatever the chains were made of, it was thick, heavy, and hard to break. She couldn't even get a crack in it, not even when she brought it to her mouth and tried to chew through it. All she got was a toothache for her trouble.

She sighed, putting her arms back down in front of her.

The stallion returned shortly after, so she doubted that it would have made much difference. He took the chain and led them into the building, passing them through the door. The chain passed hands, the horse getting a leather bag that clinked and clanked, and he nodded at the badger that had passed it on.

They were led through another door, down a hallway, and then into a final chamber. A chamber full...of cages.

Anya's eyes went wide again as she took in the various other tribesmen and women all around her. Most of them were naked, save for the collar around their neck, and those that weren't were dressed in attire that forced breasts up, cocks forward, tails up and out of the way. There were some that wore balls in their mouths, tied in with leather around their heads, and still others that writhed and moaned on the floor with their legs spread, the assholes of men and women alike twitching, and men throbbing and women drooling.

It was a nightmare, an orgiastic mess that she'd not seen since the last ritual 'fight' between her tribe's shaman and the neighboring crocodiles. Someone...someone had done something horrible to these people.

Would they do something horrible to her, too?

She didn't know, and she didn't want to think about it.

A rat stepped forward in front of the cages. He said something in a different tongue to the badger, heard something, then nodded. He turned to them.

"You are the new crop of slaves to be sold, then."

For the first time, it sounded natural. Anya realized that the horse and the mouse must have learned their language from someone else, while this rat actually knew it from the start. Her ears perked up.

"Whatever you were before now, I urge you to forget it. You have been caught by the foreigners, and once you have been brought here, there is no escape. Their hounds will track you no matter where you go, and their metal tools are nearly impossible to escape. And soon, you will no longer care what happens to you. Where you go. Who owns you."

"Nobody owns a Kallu!" one man in line shouted, and the rest of them - even Anya - shouted in agreement.

"Nobody cares," the rat said. "To them, Kallu just means a savage. A stupid person. Someone that doesn't know how the world works."

The rat shook his head. No matter the fact that he was dressed as one of the strange ones, the way he talked and the way he moved told Anya that he had once been one of them. One of the Kallu, the people of the Willows. What had happened to him?

"In a few minutes, you are to be sold. You will be given to the person that pays the most for you, and you'll be taken into their home. What happens then is up to your buyer, but most of you will be made into Pursla."

Pursla. That wasn't a word that was known to the Kallu. Certainly not one that was known to her tribe. The line moved, shifting, everyone muttering to everyone else as they tried to figure out what the word meant.

The rat eventually answered.

"To them, a Pursla is a pure, perfect slave. And they think that Kallu are the best to be molded into it."

Anya glared, using her anger to fight back the shivers that were running up and down her spine. No matter who told her that she was to be a slave, she knew that she would always fight back, always find some way to stay out of the clutches of these...people. She would fight. She would stay free.

But why would they think that the Kallu were better for this than their own people? Why would they...

It was too much for her to think about right now. She was barely tolerating her own ass being stretched as far as it was, or the strange slickness inside.

The rat looked up and down the line, and she could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. She swore that she had seen something like that before, in the eyes of the tod that had taught her and the other warriors how to fight. Something about it, like they didn't understand what they were getting into...

Was it that bad? Was the auction and the results to be feared that much?

Suddenly, she was no longer so confident in herself.

Before anyone else could say anything, the rat took the chain.

"It's time. Everyone, come on. You'll get a dose from the owl on the other side. Make sure you take it. It'll make it...easier. Anyone that isn't sold today will go in the cages, and you don't want that."

Easier? What? Being sold? Or something else?

Anya didn't know, but the urge to resist was slowly becoming something else. The urge to survive. The urge to make sure that she didn't push where she couldn't succeed.

Be smart about this, she told herself. Be smart, and maybe you'll be able to find a way out.

When she passed the owl in the next hallway, she saw him holding out glass vials filled with a similar-looking ooze to what had been forced down her throat in the swamps. She hesitated as she passed by, but slowly reached out and took it.

If I look hornier...maybe that'll get the right sort of person to look at me. Someone perverted, weak, and stupid...

If she could attract that sort of attention, it would only be a matter of time until an opportunity came by for her to escape. All she had to do was wait. A hunter could be patient, and so could a warrior.

She tossed it back without hesitation, swallowing hard. The heat in the back of her throat was new, but it spread quickly, running down her guts into her crotch.

It was easy to tell who else had taken the potion. Like a wave running down the line, those that had gasped, arching their back and tensing up. Some of them even came on the spot, including the panther right in front of her, his cock rocketing from his sheath and splattering seed all over the floor.

Anya was able to hold back, but only barely. Her pussy felt like it was on fire, swelling and dripping as soon as she swallowed the last bit of the potion. She gasped for breath, her thighs pressing together and squishing her juices against herself again.

Oh god...it's like...like heat...

It was worse when they came to a stop, the boar at the front of the line pulled out of the chain.

"First..."

He was passed through a curtain at the end of the hallway, taken somewhere else. The rat walked down the line, telling them their place, their order. When he reached Anya, she was panting, the fur of her tails stroking her nipples in ways that she didn't imagine they could be touched before. He gave her a careful, gentle, even kind look, and patted her shoulder.

"Twelfth."

Then she was left alone. Her fingers curled, her pussy twitched, and she bit her lips as the urge to finger herself right then and there started to climb.

She had never, ever been this horny in the Willows before. Yes, the Red Rut that came downriver had left some of the tribe mindless with need, and there were other plants and scents that kept everyone's libido at a more or less constant high, but this was something else. Whatever it was, she felt like she had gone into heat, like her body was begging to breed and be bred.

She was backing up a bit, whimpering as her tail rose up. The plug in her ass twitched, almost pushing out of her. She clenched down on it as it felt like it might slide out of her, but it was...mmph...

Anya moaned, shivering, barely hearing the numbers as the rat called them out. Two, three, four...

She lost track of time, pushing the plug out a little bit before sucking it back into her ass. A little bit out, a little bit in. A little out, a little in. It was not as good as the horse fucking her, but it was something. It was some little thing that kept her from focusing on her pussy and just how damn empty it felt.

The vixen was a sweating, panting mess, her nipples standing out firmly through her fur, her clit pushing free of its hood and begging for attention. She stood in a literal puddle of her own juices, feeling the slippery mess between her toes, feeling it slicking up the bottom of her feet. She slid around several times every time that she took a step, and she wanted nothing more than to fall down so that she could maybe, maybe be unchained and touch herself.

Seven, eight, nine.

She was near the curtains, now, and Anya moaned every time that they opened. She could smell the other people in there, her mind - no matter how feral it went - recognizing the scent of arousal through the other end. Not just the scent of those around her, but others. Bigger people. Different people.

They'll buy me...and...and if I'm like this...

They'd use her. They'd use her just as eagerly as they used that vixen out in the streets. And she'd be just like that woman, her mouth open, her nose flaring to catch the scent of male, her holes twitching and begging for cock to slide in, or for a woman to sit on her face and use her properly.

She had never, ever felt like this.

And she was not sure if she was more afraid or excited from it.

Ten, eleven -

"Twelve."

She was unchained, she realized, pulled through before her hands could reach for her pussy. Anya whimpered, humping her hips towards anything that might touch it, allowing herself to be led through red velvet curtains.

The heat in the room hit her like a slap, and she gasped as her fur soaked tighter to her body. She was so warm, so overheated, both from inside and out, and she was sweating up a storm.

Anya was led in front of a crowd hundreds strong, each one dressed in leather or some sort of softer, blacker material. She looked at them, felt them staring at her. Pride as a warrior warred with the needs of a woman, and she wasn't sure whether to spread her legs or keep them closed.

The choice was taken from her as she was pulled over to a set of posts, held between them as her arms were tied over her head and her legs pulled apart, ankles tied to the bottom of the posts. The rat looked up at her, shaking his head sympathetically, and then departed.

Under the lights of some strange device, Anya felt like she was held under the sun, held in a place of judgment by these many people. The vixen whimpered, her breath coming harshly and quickly, her pussy dripping past her clit. Every little droplet that flicked off it was like a spike of pleasure to her empty hole.

Finally, someone said something. She didn't understand the words, didn't know what the skunk in charge seemed to be saying, but he was gesturing at her, pointing at her. He held up his hands like he was talking numbers as he came closer and closer.

Then he was behind her, and his hands were at her chest.

She moaned, arching her back as he pulled at her nipples, tugging them out and stretching them forward. The vixen tilted her head to the side, biting her lips as he kept talking, kept tugging, pinching until it almost hurt before letting go.

As her breasts flopped back against her chest, the vixen tried to catch her breath. The auctioneer, however, seemed to have other plans.

He grabbed hold of the plug between her ass cheeks, rubbing it a few times before pushing on it, hard. Anya's eyes almost bugged out of their sockets as she felt the thick thing press into her depths, hitting those places that the stallion's cock had rubbed over again and again during his rut. She bit her lips, trying to hold back, even as she slumped forward against her ropes.

The skunk pulled it back again, tugging back so that the thickest part of the plug rubbed against her rim. Anya gasped, whimpering, shaking her head as it kept pulling, the thickest part coming closer and closer to sliding out. She shook her head, begging under her breath for him not to pull it free.

He didn't. He just shoved it in again.

The vixen was so sensitive that she went right over the edge, cumming right there in front of everyone. Anya's legs almost crumpled out from under her, her eyes rolling backwards in their sockets as she squirted. Squirted hard, too, spraying the ground with her juices and making it splash back up again.

The audience laughed, clapping their hands and leaning in to talk to each other. She didn't know what they could have been saying, but it had to be something at her expense.

The skunk let go of the plug, walking around in front of her again. He knelt down, rubbing his fingers through her juices, and then stood up again, holding his hand in front of her face. The creamy, slippery stuff formed strings of goo between his fingers as he fanned them out, forcing her to see just how hard she'd cum.

It was shameful, but at the same time, she only dripped more at the sight of it.

What's wrong with me? she thought for the umpteenth time. What...what is happening to me?

The skunk turned away, still talking in that other tongue to the crowd. He held up his hands, showing off her shame. Perhaps he was telling them how easy she was, or perhaps how much she liked it...back there. Or maybe he was spinning a whole different story.

In any case, he ran around behind her again, holding up his hand, calling out. The crowd started shouting back, holding up fingers.

They were bidding.

The shouting continued, and she was shown off from every conceivable angle. There was something to the floor beneath her that let the poles shift, and she was turned around at some point, her ass facing towards the crowd. The skunk pulled her tails, hard, dragging them up behind her back and holding them there. He held her ass cheeks open, letting everyone see the plug as he pulled on it a few times.

It was humiliating beyond words, and she was just dripping more from it.

I am a warrior, she told herself as she was turned around again. I am a...a proud woman. I claim my mate. They don't -

"AAAAAH!"

She screamed as the skunk grabbed her by the clit, pinching it and rubbing it so hard, so rough. It hurt so much, but at the same time...

At the same time, she loved it.

She thrust her hips forward as he pinched around it, forcing her to move along with him. The pinch down there sent shocks of agony through her body, but the rubbing that came after was just...exquisite. Her mouth hung open, her tongue hanging out the side of her muzzle.

Anya wasn't sure what was happening anymore. Her body was wracked with pleasure and pain, the stimulation switching so constantly and so fast that she was never quite sure which she was getting at any given time.

SMACK!

She jumped as he slapped her chest, her breasts bouncing from the blow. The vixen moaned, shaking her head, barely able to focus.

"Please," she muttered.

Either he didn't understand her, or he didn't hear. He kept shouting out at the crowd, and numbers kept coming back. She didn't know what they meant, but it had to be a high amount at that point.

Was she that valuable? Did people want her that badly?

A small part of her was flattered. A very, very small part.

The numbers bidding on her, though, were declining. The mouse from before seemed to be trying to make good on his threat, too, constantly bouncing the numbers up as he kept screaming something. Every now and then, he shouted something in her language. 'Whore' was one of the ones that kept coming back around.

Mmmph...

Whore. She was so out of it that actually sounded almost pleasant. Giving up the spear of war for the spear of pleasure...mmmph...

She actually drooled a bit from her pussy at the thought until the skunk slapped her down there, knocking her out of the daydream.

Soon, there were only two bidders. The mouse, of course, and a shadowy figure in the back of the room. He would occasionally raise his hand, always right at the brink of the bid actually going to the rodent. The mouse was losing his temper, too, ramping up the numbers, shrieking at the top of his voice.

It kept going, and going, and going, and every bid was another near-orgasm for her as the skunk kept messing with her body, fondling it, teasing it, making it ever more sensitive for the crowd.

I can't...can't take...

Anya was about to collapse against the ropes when the shadowy figure made one more declaration. It was followed up by a large sack tossed through the air, falling onto the stage with a hard thump.

Everyone went quiet, even the skunk. The only one that made any noise was Anya, and that was because she was lost in her own little world, unaware of what was going on, completely overloaded. Her mind, oversaturated with adrenaline and pleasure, decided to take a little vacation and went black.

#

She woke with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles spread several feet apart, kept there by a bar that she assumed was this 'metal' that the rat had talked about. It was certainly stiff enough to keep the vixen from being able to close her legs again.

Anya looked up. She was supported by some sort of rope that was attached to her wrists behind her back, and another to her back. She was still naked, save for the lower loincloth, but she was at least given some support while she'd been out of it.

Her pussy hurt. She could tell that nobody had done anything to it while she was out of it, but she could also tell that it had been teased to hell and back while she was on stage. Just the thought of touching herself down there at the moment filled her with a twinge of pain and a moment's need.

Need.

It was still there, though it was slowly fading away. It was nowhere near as torturous as it had been on the stage, and for that, she was thankful.

What she wasn't so happy about was the fact that she had blacked out.

Who bought me? she wondered. And where am I? Where did they take me?

There were no easy answers to that. The room she was in was the same sort of wooden block that she was growing used to seeing in all these foreign buildings. No furniture here, no sign of anything but the door right in front of her. Was she being held for her new owner, or had she already been delivered?

And if the latter, where was she?

Anya looked over her shoulder at the bindings holding her wrists. They were stronger than the last ones, or at the very least, more intricate. No small holes, this time. She wondered. Had they -

A little clench told her they hadn't. Her ass was still stretched around that plug.

Before she could groan in annoyance, the door to the little cell opened. The vixen whipped her head around, planning on glaring this man down until she was released.

Instead, she found herself staring at a scaly belly, her eyes going over an equally scaled chest, until she found herself staring into pure white eyes.

It was a dragon. It...was...a dragon...

The tribe had legends of dragons that had once lived among the Willows, but they had died out long ago. And they had had feathers, not scales quite like this.

The dragon, seven feet tall and broad across the shoulders, slipped through the door and shut it behind him. He wore a gold-trimmed red shirt, the buttons undone and the garment open, and red pants that went down to his ankles. He didn't seem to wear shoes, though his toes were ringed in a way that made him look rather different.

It was his eyes, though, the eyes amidst those black scales that held her as he walked up to her. They were empty, white, yet despite the lack of a black point to show what he was looking at, he still had...incredible focus. She could feel his eyes on her, feeling like he was staring into her mind.

He came to a stop in front of her, looming over the vixen. There were no words. Instead, he reached around her, his fingers fumbling for a moment under her tail. She realized what he was doing an instant too late.

POP!

Anya whined, biting off a cry as she slumped down a bit against her supports. The dragon tossed the plug to the floor, and she finally had a chance to see it.

It was at least half the size of her fist, tapering down from a point the size of her finger down to something at least two and a half inches wide. Her hole...her poor little hole felt like it was as open as a tent flap, the cool air in the room sliding inside of her and old cum slowly dribbling out.

The dragon smiled at her, tilting her head up.

"I believe," he said, speaking slow enough that his accent was hard to notice, "that it is time for introductions. You will call me -" And he said a word. A word that meant nothing to her, that had no meaning in the tongues of the Kallu. He said it like a title, and then his name. "- Draconicon, if we are with anyone else. What is your name, vixen?"

"...Anya."

"Anya. I look forward to seeing what you will become."

He chuckled, kissing her. She wasn't sure what to think about that.

The End