FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Shadi was sore everywhere. The little lioness was curled up in the corner of the side room where her captors had left her, a filthy, used slut for the dogs to sate their lusts upon. Her tail was curled protectively around herself, the soft, tan fur like a blanket, sheltering her from the horrors and torment of the outside world. She shivered violently, though if it was from the almost nonstop rape she had been forced to endure, or just from total and complete exhaustion, she could not say.

Nobody had been in to check on her for a long time it felt, though she could still hear the sounds of chatter and the celebration through the vibrations in the floor, distant and muffled, like peels of thunder from beyond the horizon. Cum dripped between her legs like water from a leaky faucet. The mere sight of it was enough to disgust her. The guards had brought her in, chained her up, and then let anyone with enough coin have their turn while she bit back moans and burning cheeks, humiliated and ashamed beyond her wildest dreams. The worst part of it all was how willingly and compliantly she had gone along with it, as each dog had taken his turn to try and ensure it was their bastard in her belly.

Was this how her species had felt? Ashamed and defeated, yet willing to go along with their extinction just to make their humiliations easier? She couldn't say, nor could she have asked. All the pregnant ones were moved to other areas of the castle. She was just pretty enough to make a few extra coins from before that happened.

When one of the golden armoured palace guards finally did come for her, it must have been late, past midnight if she were to guess, but it was hard keeping track of time when the only reference you had was how long each male took from start to finish.

Sadly, this one was no exception. Seeing a spoiled prize upon the floor, he'd locked the door behind himself and pushed her over onto the chaise, her breasts pressing against the fabric as he lifted her hips and gripped her tail. She listened as he fumbled with his belt, and prodded around her swollen, aching slit with his fat, canine prick.

Their malicious drug had done its work of course, and her traitorous body flagged and shifted to give him a better angle to penetrate her. Higher thought and reason fled as the guard split her sodden petals apart, hilting himself on the first thrust with a messy sounding slap as his thick knot smacked up against her splayed lips. She moaned like a whore in heat, and pushed herself back against him, cursing the canines and wishing the drug would wear off as she ground back into his thrusts.

She cursed him and his entire kind as he fucked her, enjoying the relief from his duties that her pre-prepared body brought, pleasure rippling through her as another one of the countless canines forcibly violated her passage. The worst part was the enjoyment that she took from the rough treatment, one gauntleted paw holding her head against the chaise, the other keeping her tail pulled up and raised so he could take her unimpeded.

She could feel her body clenching and pulling the male deeper, and when his knot finally did sink into her, she yowled to the ceiling. Another load of canine seed to take hold in her belly, another satisfied 'guest', as mistress called them. She huffed, panting as he pulled himself from her passage, dragging a mess of cum along with him to stain the chaise further. The dog adjusted his belt and refastened it. Shadi just lay there, the gold chain linking her to the floor still tethered to her collar.

What else was she to do? She knew her role. If by some miracle, a cub didn't take in her belly, perhaps it might not change. She doubted it. She'd get her breeder mark soon enough...

The guard gave her a minute to clean herself up and then led her by the chain from the room. Neither spoke a word, simply getting on with their duties. She followed him the long way back down the hallways, passing several of the dignitaries she had seen last night and at least one who had paid to see her after the show. She did her best to ignore the looks of lust, or cocky sneers and catcalls as she was led by her collar, one paw covering her breasts, with her tail curled around her hips to provide at least some sense of modesty to the stark naked feline. The humiliated blush on her nose refused to leave her until she was well past the crowds and being led back down the spiralling steps to the slave pens.

Finally, the chain was removed from her collar with an almost silent, metallic click of the latch moving, and she disappeared into the throng of other slaves before the guards could think better of their choice to return her so soon. Fleeing through the torchlit caves, she sought out the sanctuary of the thermal springs, and let her naked body slip beneath the warm water. The few other females in there with her didn't ask questions, though she did get a few sidelong glances that were full of fear and uncertainty.

They reminded her far too much of her own state for her to meet any of their gazes though, and quietly, staying in her little corner of the slave pen, she tried to scrub the shame given by her captors from her body.

_________________________________

"250,000 Draskar." Was the response Isiat had received upon his initial request to buy 'That pretty little feline lass you had dancing around last night.'

Of course, the offer was stupendously large, unreasonable even to any who might have had access to such funds. Reasonably, he probably could have purchased a significant portion of the castle for that price. The intent was obvious. They didn't want to sell, but also didn't want to seem so uncouth as to reject his offer outright. Of course, had they known the consequences then, they might have been better off not giving him a price at all.

"Oh, it's an invitation to treat. We've established you're willing to sell, and now we're merely debating on compensation!" Isiat couldn't help himself. He laughed, pouring himself a glass of some fine amber liquor from its crystal decanter.

The wolf across from him looked less than enthused about the job he'd been given, even for a trade guildsman. He declined when Isiat offered him a glass.

"I'll tell you what, since she was so awfully nice last night, how about this. You and I both know a slave, even a good one, even the best one isn't worth more than their weight in gold. Even a king wouldn't get that for random. 1000 Draskar, plus 10,000 Lupar, or you can tell your lord I'm taking my wares, my money, and sailing into the feline territories to have a half off everything sale. What was the latest casualty report from the jungle campaign? 7000 wounded, 900 killed in the last month? The right tools could easily minimise those numbers, or, in the hands of your foes, increase them tenfold."

The lupine's jaw might have hit the floor, but courteously, Isiat gave him a moment to pick it back up while he sipped his drink.

"I think I've made myself perfectly clear. You can accept the offer, which mind you, is already significantly more than any reasonable merchant would pay, or I can take my sales elsewhere."

When the lupine didn't immediately move, Isiat gestured him away with a flick of his paw.

"Go, please. Before I have Scion make you gone." With a growl from the Dragon standing nearby, the young wolf made himself scarce from Isiat's sight. As soon as the door snipped closed, a broad grin he'd been suppressing stretched its way across his lips.

"So do you think they'll bite?" Scion asked, helping himself to a healthy measure of whatever ambrosia was inside the crystal decanter. He let out a serpentine hiss as the liquor burned down his throat.

Isiat just chuckled and drained the rest of his own glass.

"Of course they will! They're greedy bastards, and at the end of the day, she's just a slave to them. At ten times the market value, plus all the useless wolf currency they can pocket? They still seem to think it has real value outside their kingdom." Despite the fact that it was very, very widespread now, the Lupar had lost significant value against the Draskar thanks to the wolves bright idea to mass-produce it to replace the currency in the lands they conquered. Of course, when you minted far more coins than you conquered lands, there became a surplus.

Hell, most dragon clan representatives didn't even touch the stuff. Isiat himself had a cargo bay on the lower aft decks filled with boxes of the freshly minted coins he had 'acquired' in his travels. At the current going price, they were worth more melted down for the raw silver they were struck upon.

"No, they will bite. I've tossed a lure that they'll be hard-pressed to resist, and if that fails, I've also told them I'll sell their shiny new toys to the kids across the street if they don't."

"Would you really risk angering them like that over this girl?"

The blank stare Isiat returned him spoke volumes for him. Scion sighed, throwing his paws up.

"Stupid question."

"There are no stupid questions Scion, only stupid people, and at the moment, I plan to steal potentially the most valuable slave the aforementioned people have for a fraction of what she could be worth in returns. Her father alone pledged 10,000 Draskar for her safe return, nevermind the instability and opportunity her removal as a pawn from the wolf's side of the board will create! We're rigging the game and they don't even think we're playing yet!" He laughed, clearly all too pleased at his deviousness. Even Scion couldn't help but share in his mirth.

"Perhaps... But if it backfires on you?"

"Well, we shoot our way out, naturally!" He laughed and clinked his glass against the dragon's.

"To Avarice, the greedy bastard. May enough never be."

"I'll drink to that any day..."

_______________________________

Shadi screamed when they came for her. She knew what they were there for, and has watched as they pushed their way through the slave pen towards her little corner. Their steel armour was unadorned with finery save for a snarling dog head pauldron on each of the guards' shoulders. They were from a portion of the castle just above the slave pens. They were with the collar wrights. Blacksmiths. Steelworkers. The ones who handled all the incoming material for the castle, be it metal for the foundries or slaves for the pens.

She was still screaming and thrashing when they dragged her from the corner, hauling her bodily from the slave pens. Her racking sobs echoed down the corridors as she continued to kick and beat at their armoured forms, but even if her claws hadn't been cut back, she couldn't have hoped to achieve much against the canine behemoths pulling her along like a petulant child throwing a fit.

She remembered these corridors with the clarity of an old nightmare revisited, the acrid scent of coal and molten steel in the air, along with the scent of sweat and blood. She heard the pitiful wailing of the new slaves as their collars were fitted and marked, the metal clang of brands being stuck into the still-warm metal. She was fortunate. Gold was flexible and soft. Iron and steel were not, and the branding often left lower ranked slaves bruised for life.

She continued to fight all the way to the anvil, where she was forced down with a swift jab to the back of her knees while manacles were clamped around her wrists and feet. Her tail thrashed with her fury until one of the guards stepped on it, pinning the writhing appendage down with his heel. She hissed in pain but ceased fighting as much until the pressure let up. She would be bruised for sure.

"Adjustments, as listed, and a purchase mark." The guard growled as he handed over a scroll that was covered in harsh scratching from a wax pencil. She could make nothing out through the tears in her eyes, even straining as much as she could to the side. She'd been sold. This was the end of it.

"Hmm. Quite. Do you have the marker?" Asked an older hound in a thick leather apron. Something was passed from the guard to the smithy.

She felt as her hair was pulled up, leaving her neck and the thick collar bared under their scrutinizing gaze. She squirmed, but a firm hand forced her head down against the anvil, her cheek pressed flat on the surface of the cold, scarred steel. She felt the jolt of the impact of the mallet against the fine-tipped imprinting chisel as the markings on the back of her collar were adjusted. She heard him switching chisels, and then another jolt as symbols were either crossed out or added in a small line. She cried openly. Nobody seemed to notice.

Nobody seemed to care.

"Roll her over, if you would." The smith gave an unsympathetic grunt, and Shadi wailed again as she was forced onto her back, the manacles rattling loudly as she shook at them. It did her no good, and in moments, she was rolled over, hyperventilating and exposed as the smith lined up the next chisel against the centre of her throat, right in the middle of her collar.

He raised the mallet and struck it once, with a loud ring of struck metal that echoed around the chamber. Shadi felt fresh tears running down her cheeks, hot and ashamed and defeated. Only one kind of mark went upon the front of a slave's collar, and she knew at once her fate had been sealed for her, sold off to the highest bidder. It was an owners mark, the personal crest of whomever she would call 'master' from now on.

She wept openly, ugly, racking sobs that made her entire chest heave as she fought for air her brain was certain that it wasn't getting. The guards hauled her upright and forced her in staggering steps back towards the stairway, all but pushing her along, her tail dragging against the stone floor.

"Pick it up, girl. You'll want to look good. You've got an appointment with a guest before you get to leave..." One of the guards dragging her almost limp for along laughed darkly, delighting in how low their war prize had been brought. Shadi hissed and tried to pay him no mind. Who would possibly want to see her? Hadn't she been entertainment enough last night? Now they had probably gone and sold her off to one of her rapists just to rub salt in the wound that was still fresh and raw.

But even so, she did her best to try and compose herself at least somewhat. She would win no favours with a new owner being a crying mess. If she wanted her misery to be even slightly less, she needed to pull herself together. A new owner meant possibly getting away from this place, and the possibility of realistic escape.

With that though strengthening her resolve, she clung to it like a raft in the swirling tempest of a whirlpool. At the least, anywhere was better than here, right? By the time they had begun ascending the spiralling stairway up into the main levels of the castle, far, far above the slave pens, she'd managed at least to bring her breathing under control, though her heart continued to pound like a trapped bird in her chest, thumping rapidly against her ribs.

She sighed, watching her feet and counting the steps to try and steel herself for whatever degradation her 'guest' had in mind for her, placing one foot in front of the other like it was the hardest thing she'd ever done. She didn't bother trying to hide her naked form. It wasn't like she'd ever be afforded modesty now that she'd been sold to one of the canine lords.

One, two, three, four...

___________________________________

Onetwothreefourfivesixseven, Onetwothreefourfivesixseven-

Isiat's fingers drummed upon the surface of the polished desk in the quarters he'd been offered for his meeting. No doubt they belonged to someone important, but he had been brought the writ of sale some time ago and was now just simply waiting for his merchandise. They'd tried- And oh, had they tried to convince him to buy almost any of the other girls on offer, including a set of three identical Siamese sisters who he had very nearly been tempted to purchase separately, but no. It had to be her. He had been firm on that.

Still, it hadn't stopped them from sending other girls to try and woo him, or run their hands over him, tempting him like they had been taught with their bodies and flashes of their heat swollen cunts. He had remained firm, in more ways than one at that point, but he had the bill of sale, and he wanted his property. Now.

Reluctantly, his hosts had finally agreed to have his purchase brought up, once the appropriate adjustments to her collar markings had been made and verified. And so he'd paced. He'd drummed his fingers on every surface and every windowsill. He'd flicked through every book on the small shelf at the edge of the room, and sampled every corked liquor he could find in the various drawers of the desk.

He'd pocketed the two loose Draskar coins that had slipped down the back of the cushions of the chaise in the room. He'd even leaned out through the open glass panelled window and insulted the size of the canine king's cock quite loudly, but his voice had been snatched away by the wind before anybody had heard. Still, it had been something to pass the time.

But now that he'd whittled away almost an hour of his valuable time, he was back to drumming his fingers, slouching in the high backed seat at the desk. The pretty feline slave girls had stopped coming in, and nobody had even been to check on him for at least the last half hour. They could have at least had the common courtesy to ask if he'd like a drink, he mused, sipping from one of the bottles of a rather sweet, out of season brandy he'd found stashed behind one of the books.

But at last, he heard footsteps down the long corridor and knew at once where they would end up. This room wasn't along any of the main thoroughfares, nor were there any convenient access ways around this part of this particular floor. No other guests of note occupied the adjacent rooms, and he'd made sure to check that before placing his request.

Oh, he was sure eavesdropping would still be possible, but he'd taken every reasonable precaution and tested the limits of the canines definitions of reasonable accommodation. In truth, he'd probably worn out his welcome some time ago, but his merchandise was too sweet a temptation for them to simply dismiss his requests offhand.

The handle rattled, and he made one last quick sweep of his paw through his well kept, inky black hair, sitting up a little straighter. It opened, and two guards marched in, escorting the pretty tan lioness with her overly large ears and tail. This time, she had nothing to cover herself save the end of her tail and her paws, and nude and in the light, her body appeared more weakened from her captivity than it had the night before. Or, perhaps it was just the cumulative effects of exhaustion on her small stature. It was amazing what you could hide with a grooming team and some glamour.

"Leave her and get out, now that you've wasted an hour of my time." He casually dismissed the guards with a wave of his paw, though they hesitated, looking from her chain to the tether on the floor and back to him, as if unsure what the protocol for this was. Slaves were never supposed to be untethered in the presence of guests without a guard-

"Out! Did I stutter?!" Isiat snapped, rising from his seat to usher them away and through the doorway as the poor frightened girl backed into a corner of the room, standing quietly and watching her toes. He slammed the door and bolted it behind them just as soon as he'd snatched the keys for her irons from them.

"Here, let me get those." He began with a soft smile that he tried to hide his impatience behind, attempting to sound something resembling reassuring.

_____________________________

Shadi did her best not to panic. Now that the guards were gone, she was left alone with this male, the only other living being in the castle who could have possibly sealed her fate with a whisper to her captors or a single shout out into the hallway. But rather than of any of that, instead, he undid her manacles, and gently unfastened the chain from her collar, tossing it aside. His eyes met hers with the same intensity they had shown on the dance floor. He stared her down until shyly, she looked away, breaking the contact.

"What's your name, pretty kitten?" His words rang in her ears with the rich accent of the vulpines, flitting and soft like a leaf on a breeze.

"Shadi, as it pleases, my lord..." She spoke the hollow words she'd been taught, keeping her head bowed submissively. She'd done this all before. They made themselves out to be all-important, bragged about their achievements and how good they were, and then fucked her, and sent her away when they were done.

"Mhhm. No, don't call me lord. I'm not noble, nor would I want to be. Bunch of pompous idiots with sticks under their tails. My name is Isiat. You are Shadi. You can call me by name. I don't bite, I promise." He flashed a grin at her.

As if on cue, she rubbed the dark bruises left from where his teeth had pierced her skin just the night before.

"Okay, well... often. I don't bite often." He amended himself with a chuckle.

"Why did you kill him? The wolf, last night?" Shadi asked suddenly, quite out of turn for a slave.

The vulpine didn't even miss a beat. Starting to pace slowly around her, as if appraising her worth from her appearance, he looked her up and down as he composed his answer. She struggled all at once to not recoil when his fingertips traced around her hips as he went, fighting herself between the instinct to shy further from the contact, and her many years of servitude making her want to lean into it.

"He knew where the knife came from, and he was about to be your death. The way I see it if I can do a good deed and tie up a loose end in a single stroke, why not?" He gave a low, dark rumble of amusement, and the sound made Shadi want to shudder, though if in revulsion or if due to some other instinct, she couldn't have said.

"How many languages can you speak?" He asked just as suddenly as she had, changing course like a bird in flight.

"Three, including the common tongue."

He said something in a guttural, rasping tongue that rolled from his lips like rocks down a mountainside. She frowned, shaking her head. His next words were in a fleeting, rapid language she did know, and she responded in kind just as fluently. His eyes lit up like a child, simply delighted as he traded a few more quick phrases back and forth. She met each in turn without fault.

"Good! What other useful skills do you have?" He asked as he stepped behind her, pulling her tail out from where she had it covering herself. She was still a slave and didn't dare resist him. Forcing herself to keep her eyes front, she let him draw the long appendage out, running his fingertips inquisitively through the long, silky fur that coated it. He almost seemed like he was measuring it.

"I can read and write. I know the ways of a noble court. I can ride and hunt from horseback, and use concealment and camouflage to hide. I know how to bake, though... It's been years since I've done any of those things..." She confessed, blushing as the male bent over to look beneath her tail as well, a humiliated red flush tinting her nose.

"What about here? What was your main duty?" He carried on like nothing at all were amiss. She was just property after all, and he was merely inspecting her like one would livestock before sending them to sale...

"I was a... Uh..." She felt her cheeks burning now as well. "A pleasure slave. They gave me to visiting nobles and dignitaries as entertainment... I would dance, and they would fuck me, and then I'd be returned and cleaned for the next guest they asked me to dance for..."

"So like me then?" He piped up, that oddly charming and endearing grin written across his lips.

"I suppose so, yes." She admitted after a long moment as he lowered her tail back to the ground, and continued circling her.

"And yet, I'm neither noble or dignitary. Just lucky. Funny how things end up, isn't it? I just happened to be able to argue enough to see you again before they give you away to your new master. From the sounds of it, at least you'll be a long way from here. Do you know other dances?"

His questions never seemed to stop! Shadi was getting more and more frustrated and embarrassed by the moment, and all this male wanted to do was prattle on like she wasn't naked as the day she was born as he eyed her privates like a hungry mutt.

"I... know a few. Mostly from the feline kingdoms and here in the canine lands..."

Suddenly, he was before her, cupping her breasts in his paws like he was trying the guess just how large and heavy they were, tweaking her pink nipples between his fingers. Her shut her eyes with a soft mew, biting her lip hard before she could-

She couldn't help it! The action forced a moan from her lips before she ever had a chance to stop it, and instantly, her blush extended down to her quickly darkening breasts. Her arms shot up before she could stop them, gripping his wrists almost pleadingly, though if she was asking him to stop or keep going was far from clear. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her mouth ajar in a quiet, hot pant as her body, still recovering from the drugs they had given her the day before, reacted to the stimulus he provided. The male just smirked like he'd won a bet she wasn't privy to.

"Dance for me." He gave the command flatly, like a man who knew he had control and was under no illusion that any order he gave would not be heeded. It did, however, still manage to catch her off guard.

"Dance? For you?" Oh no, please no she thought. She didn't want to have to perform that again so soon after... Well, everything that had happened-

"Yes. You know how to dance. The Conquest is a canine dance. I'd like you to show me something else." He smirked, running his blunt claws along her wide hips as he passed her, before sitting down upon the chaise, watching her expectantly. His eyes roamed over her, and despite herself, she found her moving her paws to attempt to cover her modesty.

"Don't." He reprimanded her sharply. She jerked her paws back to her sides like a scolded child with their hand in the cookie jar, shyly looking to her feet again. His expression softened at once, and he managed a smile, not having meant to come off quite as harsh as he had.

"Don't hide yourself." He explained to her with a more gentle tone. "The collar won't let you hide what you are, so why should you hide the rest of you? If anything, use it. Don't hide, but entice. Tease. Tempt." He suggested, counting off the suggestions on his fingers as he did, before laying one arm lazily across his lap, the other tapping some rapid rhythm on the edge of the seat, but this time, she recognized the rhythm that his claws beat.

"That's-" She began, but he cut her off before she could finish, his fingers drumming along.

"A feline rhythm, yes. Traditional to the Leopard clans of the great Sahara that stretches to the horizon and beyond. I've been there. It really doesn't. You're familiar with the dance that accompanies it?" He asked, raising one eyebrow with a grin that was utterly devious in its intent. Of course, she was familiar with it...

It was hard not to remember the sound of the music with a quartet of male and female spotted felines, their lithe bodies and fur aglow in the firelight as they swung themselves erotically around the polished shafts of their spears that had been driven into the ground to support their weight while they shamelessly displayed themselves for the pleasure of the crowd.

Whatever reaction she had to the memory of the visitors to her father's court, he evidently noticed it. Perhaps it was the sudden flush of warmth that had crept from her toes up to her ear tips.

"Ahhh, so you are familiar with it then... There are several variants of the dance that go with the song..." He started, standing up again as he began circling her again. She could feel her heart beating faster already, but there was another instinct beneath her fear that seemed entirely counter-intuitive to her situation, or, perhaps it was her main reaction to the adrenaline spike, instead of her fear. She felt the familiar warmth gathering between her thighs quite acutely.

"Some are done upon polished poles, some in groups, others in pairs..." The male continued, each circle drawing him closer and closer to her upon reaching his starting point, like a predator slowly closing a net around its prey.

She could hear the frantic thumping of the desert clan's drums in her head even now, enraptured by it now as she was as a young barely-adult then. The way they had moved and teased. They had looked good and known it, and she, being the chieftain's daughter, had gotten a front-row seat to the show, unobstructed by the tight press of the crowds gathered. She forgot what it was they had been celebrating that night, but she remembered the taste of one of the dancers on her lips behind the tent well enough...

It was funny how things got so easily forgotten in the passion of the moment.

"...but in your case, I'm sure you'll appreciate it, so... As I said... Dance with me. You know the tempo." Shadi shook her head, trying to bring her dangerously straying thoughts back under control as the male finished whatever it had been he'd been droning on about. How long had she lost herself for? And where had his shirt gone?

He was looking at her expectantly, one paw raised, palm open as if waiting for her to take it with her own. His tails flickered, and she was caught by the way that their tips seemed to twitch in perfect synchrony to the drums in her mind. It was a strange tempo they played to, and yet his tails, of all things, kept the time without missing a single beat.

One two three, one-two. One two three, one-two.

She fixated on that, the motions of his tails acting like a metronome as she stepped forwards, trying to just focus on doing what she was told instead of panicking about what may be. This male was cunning or wealthy enough to have worked his way in here, and he'd all but admitted to killing Orez for his own ends. Whatever scheming he was up to, she was clearly a part of a larger plan.

Just what it was, and if she really wanted to know that was another matter entirely.

Her feet moved of their own accord, and she began to circle with him as he had her just moments earlier, their fingers weaving together as they made circuits of a point on the floor between them.

Her feet were in perfect harmony with his own. She knew some of the nobles indulged in learning at least the steps of a few if the need for ritual ever arose, but outside of performers, it was a skill seldom sought out by most of the Aristocracy. An indulgence that was better spent on other endeavours, as far as most were concerned, but not a practical skill for anyone of importance to invest more than a cursory amount of time in.

Shadi, being the daughter of a chief, had been forced to learn more and more early in her captivity to better allure herself to her captors. She was the equivalent of an exotic princess, and they wasted no time in having her taught how to better please her new masters, both to the eyes and their cocks.

His eyes fixated on hers as they circled, watching her every move, but not once did he glance at his own feet to check his movements. Elegantly, she spun away, breaking his sharp, hawk-like gaze that seemed to pierce into her like an arrow, as if he were peering into her very being and scrutinizing it for flaws while she moved.

Clap clap clap!

They brought their paws together in quick succession above their heads as they carried on, moving like water through the motions of the dance. She couldn't help but look the vulpine male over as he moved in turn. Just what was going through his mind? She tried to keep herself free from distraction, but this was unlike any encounter she'd had with, well, anyone! Especially someone noteworthy enough to be invited to this place.

Most of her guests had been content to watch her swing her hips and sway her tail until they decided they wanted her swaying in their laps instead. None of her previous visitors had even shown the slightest interest in dancing with her. Just in watching her until they grew hard and could bend her over and relieve their pent up energy by making her moan instead.

But this one... he was different. His fur was sleek and smooth, obviously well taken care of, and split into typical Vulpine patterning, save for the darker strip of almost blood-red fur that separated the black of his back and sides from the pristine white of his stomach. There was a scar across his abs where the fur had grown back slightly misaligned from the rest of his pelt, and numerous other little imperfections that made themselves visible the longer she looked. Individual silver strands of fur mixed with the black of his coat, giving it an uneven salt and pepper appearance.

She stole glances as they danced, every step in perfectly choreographed time to the count of his tails rapid back and forth flickering. She knew the moves now like she'd danced this just yesterday, all coming back to her at once. She twisted and elegantly let her tail stroke across the male's waist as she did, teasing the noticeable tent that he was pitching already.

In turn, he pulled her in by the wrist, his lips gracing her neck and throat, and instinctively more than as a part of the dance, her head tilted skywards, exposing herself to his hungry lips while he ground his stiffness against the base of her tail. She could feel a damp circle of arousal grinding against the fur of her ass as he pushed against her.

The textured pads of his fingers brushed tantalizingly over her stiff, pink nipples, and caught her off guard enough that she moaned quietly while he suckled upon her life vein, rolling the firm flesh between his digits pleasurably. He was far more gentle and careful with her than most men, almost as if he were making sure not to damage the plaything he had been given before her new master took possession of her. She was still just a thing, after all, she had to remind herself, and someone else's thing at that. Of course, he would be careful, but at least that worked out in her favour.

He didn't seem the sort to hurt someone on a whim from what little she knew about the strange male, but on the other paw, she'd also witnessed him running a man through with his sword just the day before. She kept herself wary, but it was hard not to just let herself get swept up in the motions of the dance.

His paws trailed to her hips as she rolled them from side to side, her long tail brushing over his crotch in teasing strokes as it passed... perhaps she was letting herself get into it just a little. It made things easier when you could take some enjoyment from the otherwise humiliating acts that her captors forced her to do, and honestly, this male wasn't half bad looking either. They parted berifely, once more facing each other. He eyed her with a lust-hungry lick of his chops.

Clap clap clap!

She turned around and pressed herself back against him as she felt bare flesh slipping along the outer lips of her sex, but just when he'd found the time to free his shaft from its fabric prison was beyond her. Her legs trembled at the touch, and despite her soreness, her torment, her humiliation, she felt her body warming quickly to the male's advances.

Her slickness coated his length, and peering down, she could see the dappled maroon shaft peeking from between her thighs. Teasingly, she reached down and ran her thumb across the spade-shaped tip. Behind her, the male gave a grunt, his teeth grazing the edge of her left ear.

"Careful kitten. I still want a dance first..." he rumbled with a low, teasing growl. Shadi felt her insides clench eagerly, a huff passing from her nostrils. With an elegance that betrayed better practice in better times, she spun in his embrace, the silky fur of her thighs caressing his cock as they parted briefly, just long enough for her to place one paw upon his right shoulder, her other on his waist. With the momentum of the movement still powering her motion, she swung around his body as if he were a living pole for her to dance upon.

He held her weight easy enough and dropped his tails down low to the floor so that they didn't impede her graceful twist and spin, her legs kicked out wide like a trapeze artist swinging from the ceiling. Gravity pulled her back down towards his feet though, and she landed smoothly upon her knees before him, her eyes coming level with the male's prick.

Like all the carnal dances, this one quick grew lewder the longer it went on. Unlike the conquest, however, it boiled down to two animals lost in the throes of passion and lust. She knew where it was heading. Better to be over with it rather than stress about it. The dark scent of his arousal was getting to her anyway.

She closed her lips around the head of his shaft, suckling gently as it throbbed between her lips, coating her tongue in a slick spray of his precum. His paws closed around the tips of her ears, gripping the small tufts of fur that grew from them tightly while he gave his hips an experimental roll, savouring the warmth of her muzzle, and the silky, yet rough texture of her feline tongue.

She let herself give a sultry purr as she knelt before him, slathering his prick and his half-formed knot with her tongue like she had been trained... Like she'd done for the leopard so long ago...

Above her, Isiat groaned, his paws rewardingly scratching against the rims of her ears. They were blunt, rounded as if the male has filed them, much like the guards forced each of their feline slaves to do. It seemed an odd thing to notice, but she had no time to ponder it.

She bobbed her muzzle upon his length like a good, obedient concubine girl might for her handsomely paying clientele, but she was a slave. Even if he had paid an exorbitant sum for his little dance with her, she would never see so much as a coin of it, and she'd still be expected to do exactly as he pleased. For all the value her captors seemed to place on her, right now all she was was a pretty little whore with another dog's cock in her mouth, and she suckled and drew him into her throat like she had been taught to, moaning softly around the throbbing length resting atop of her tongue.

She could taste the potent tang of his precum, the same cum that had filled her unprotected cunt not even a day before, and she was now making her humiliation worse as she sucked messily along his twitching rod with well-practised swirls of her tongue across his tip. His hips twitched and jumped like his shaft, sorely resisting the urge to just grab her head and face fuck the little feline until she got a nice mouthful of cum as her reward.

She felt each shot of slick, warm precum as it coated her throat, and she swallowed it more willingly than she'd have expected herself too. She chalked that one down to the aftereffects of the drugs. Between her thighs was a hot mess as well, and it was hard to resist the desire to finger herself while she nursed on his prick. Bue dance wouldn't wait that long, and neither would the male apparently, but the next part-

Just as gracefully as she had maneuvered and swung herself into her position, she was shifted again, and the male's paws dropped from her ears to pull her up by her shoulders. She knew this part well. She'd practically creamed herself squirming in her seat when she'd seen it performed before her. The male lifted his partner, spun her as she raised a leg, and swung it outwards as she returned to her starting position. She lifted her foot, letting it come to rest upon the male's shoulder as his paws gripped her thighs, and then...

She squealed in surprise as the vulpine's lips pressed against her sex, and his tongue drove forwards, the rough, canine muscle returning her favour of sucking his prick to ready him, by utterly ploughing her cunt with his tongue, and oh did he take to the task with the enthusiasm of a young rex in his prime. There was no sweet build-up to it between lovers, but he kissed her sex like he was reuniting with a passionate fling, rumbling and growling as he devoured her sweet nectar.

His paws on her thighs squeezed her roughly as he all but tried to bury his muzzle beneath her tail, lapping at her exposed cunt like a hungry mutt, and she blushed a beet red as she realised he could probably still taste the guard who had raped her before! It was humiliating, but at the same time, that fact that he simply didn't seem to care and just drove his tongue deeper into her, all but fucking her atop his muzzle, just made her wetter, and her cries of pleasure were no longer forced, or fake in the slightest. She cried out in bliss to the ceiling, and let her voice echo around the chamber. Let the guards no doubt listening outside hear her. She had no hope of stopping herself.

She moaned and gripped the exotic mutts ears for balance, and he growled in response, pressing the coolness of his leathery nose tight against her clit while his tongue writhed like a serpent inside of her honey-pot, the male greedily lapping up all he found. He all but snarled fiercely into her sex, the vibrations from the deep, bass note running across her sensitive skin as his tongue stroked from the bottom of her sex to her clit. Her leg trembled beneath her as she fought to maintain her balance, threatening to drop her at any moment from the intense sensations.

No other male, not the guards or her 'guests' had ever done this to her. In fact, not a single male had barely even touched her for more than a few moments before she arrived here. Sure, she'd heard stories from gloating males retelling of their conquests of beautiful maidens or lusty whores, but realistically, she'd never been worth the time to prepare, or pleasure without expecting an investment on their return. Wolves and dogs and mutts didn't care about the slaves enjoying it, but this male-

One two three. One two. One two three-ahhh!

She was certain he'd been greedily feasting on her spread sex for -far- longer than the dance would have normally permitted, but yet he didn't move from his pose, raising one paw to cup a palm-full of her plump rear, squeezing firmly as his teeth closed carefully around her clit. She squealed, her entire body teetering on the head of a pin, far above the clouds.

His eyes looked up her body and between her breasts, past the hot pink flush of her nipples and nose. He locked his lust-filled gaze to her half-lidded one while she was still busy panting and whining, balanced precariously on the edge of oblivion.

And then the cocky bastard growled, his teeth nipping her budding stem of nerves in the gentlest love-bite he could have possibly done. His tongue tickled across the tightly bundled nerves like a paintbrush. It was all that she took.

She squealed and fell backwards as bliss overcame her body's senses, and what muscle control she had was relinquished to the pleasure that scorched through her nerves like lightning. He caught her with his paws and tails before she could collapse completely, and safely lowered her spasming body to the chaise as she took in sucking gasps between whimpers of pleasure. His tongue left her feeling empty and like she needed him to keep touching her, to keep pleasing her, and her mewling took on a needy, kittenish sound like she was pleading with him desperately.

She spread her thighs for him and gave the male her best set of bedroom eyes, the kind she used when she'd been forced to seduce or temp a lord from across a crowded room from her collared and chained position. She tail gave a flick, wafting the scent of her need and lust at the male, who was already crawling up atop of her, his eagerness throbbing between his legs, leaking precum onto her fur. He pinned her paws to the soft, down-filled cushions beneath her, and his cock tip touched her sex at the same time his muzzle sealed itself around the nipple of her right breast.

She felt herself clench involuntarily around his spade-like tip, her body eagerly tugging and squeezing at his shaft. Her hips rolled up to meet him, and he didn't make any attempt to slow her or to stop himself from taking his pleasure from her body. He sank into her frictionlessly, her body's orgasm and the work of his tongue more than preparing her for the thick, vulpine length as he pushed himself into her hot and welcoming passage.

Her moan was like sweet music to him, and he fed her each inch slowly, a smooth, gentle thrust that didn't end until his knot was snuggly pushed against her spread sex-lips, her nose and cheeks flushed pink as she bit her tongue, doing her best not to moan, but he could hear her desperate, needy panting as she huffed through her nostrils instead.

"Moan, girl." He ordered her, and like a lock falling from its chain, she did just that, tossing her head back as she let loose a ragged, lust stricken groan of pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut tightly. His tongue rasped over his sensitive nipples as she dug her claws into the chaise's fabric, his hips almost instinctively held upwards against his shaft as he drew back like she was trying to keep him in for as long as she possibly could.

Normally, she wouldn't have been like this with her partners! But then again, all of her other partners had been forced upon her since she had been captured. This male though, there was... something about the way he touched her, the way he fucked her. He pushed her down into the chaise like he owned her, and rutted her hard, his tip battering her cervix like a hammer each time he bottomed out, and her body reacted in kind, rippling and tightening around him, the wet smacks of their hips echoing in the room.

The pleasure he forced on her was like a lightning strike in its sudden intensity, and it left her entire body humming between his thrusts, clenching and trying to grab at the bare flesh that was no longer filling her. She felt like a whore, but right then, she didn't care, too caught up in the male's ministrations as he played her body like an instrument, drawing the kind of noises from her she never knew she was capable of making. She needed to feel him inside of her. Needed to feel his girth stuffing her full again.

She didn't have to fake it when his knot smacked against her clit roughly, and she went off like a corked bottle at one of the canine's fancy parties she'd been forced to serve as entertainment for. One moment, she had simply been enjoying it, and the next, he'd coaxed her orgasm from hiding and into the open until she was squirming and writhing against his pinning grip, his muzzle alternating between nipping, tugging, and sucking upon her stiff and pink nipples.

She whimpered and whined desperately, the core of her body feeling like a raging inferno that he was carelessly throwing oil onto with each forceful buck of his hips, his tails kept down low by her own to counterbalance his rapid thrusting. He might not have been a dog, but he fucked like a feral mounting a needy bitch, grunting and huffing from his frenzied exertion.

Both of them had forgotten the dance entirely, giving over to their baser instincts of need and lust, to breed, to fuck. He finally let her wrists go, and at once, her arms shot up, fingers digging into the backs of his shoulders as she clung on desperately for all she was worth. Her legs wrapped around his hips as his knot swelled, making each time he pulled himself from her just a little harder than the thrust before, echoing with a loud pop of suction breaking.

"Ahhh~ P-please!" Who the desperate cry came from was anyone's guess.

Finally, he reached the point of no return, his knot bulging her sex lips outwards, and her body utterly unwilling to release him from its grasp until he was done with her. She lost track of time somewhere between her third and fourth climax, the world disappearing behind a sea of stars on the insides of her eyelids, squeezed tightly shut as she squealed and moaned. Her body was forced to its limits of what her nerves could hope to deal with before being completely overwhelmed by the sensations.

When the world finally did swim back in, Isiat was above her, grunting as his cock strained and throbbed within her belly, eagerly dumping his hot cum with the hope of taking in her fertile womb. The feeling of his seed splashing against her womb's gateway was acutely there, as was the sensation of fullness that came from being tied, a little detail she was finding bothered her less and less about her canine captors.

"Ahhh... whoever decided to buy you is a lucky fellow indeed." Isiat grunted after a long few minutes spent wrapped up in the feline, both coming down from their highs. His knot had softened within her enough for him to yank himself free with a sharp tug that left Shadi cold and dripping against the chaise's fine upholstery. Let somebody else take care of it, she thought. At least she never had to clean up the rooms after her guests.

Still, the thought that she had been sold off to someone was a sobering reminder of her place. She blushed and tried to hide her face by rolling into her side, flicking her tail up and over her body. She must have looked every part the obedient slut too. Her thighs were matted with the spill of cum that had leaked back from her once the male had pulled out.

"Yes, quite..." she muttered, her high as thoroughly extinguished as a candle in the ocean. She sighed, trying to get comfortable, and finding the task was impossible. The air chilled her nethers and her saliva damp nipples.

"Why are you laying there? Your buyer is waiting to take custody of you, and instead, you just lay there like... like a cat. Get up Shadi. Hold yourself a little higher than a common whore."

She rolled over, frowning at the male. What did he care? Now that he was done with her, he would just be another distant memory soon enough, and she would just be another notch in his belt.

"I'm sure someone will come and fetch me when I'm needed again." She sighed, sitting upright and exposing her throat to him. She gestured to the collar that bound her servitude, the mark of her slavery.

"Do you know who the mark belongs to?" She asked. Perhaps it would distract him from reminding her any further of her status as property.

Isiat just smirked, and walked over to the desk, pulling open one of the drawers. He drew a small hand mirror from its depths, wiping the surface over his sleeve to clean it. He offered it out to her.

Without a word, she took it, angling the mirror so that she could see the mark stamped into the front of her collar where the smith had struck it. It was a sigil she wasn't familiar with, a canine head surrounded by a wreath of some sort, some kind of thick, bushy plant perhaps?

Isiat was still grinning when she looked up at him, confused.

"I would hope I know it. It's mine after all." He chuckled, holding out his right paw. Upon his finger was a small signet ring, bearing the same crest. The dots in her head lined up about the same time he clipped the gold chain leash to the loop on her collar, giving it a gentle tug to pull her along.

"Now come along pretty little kitten. I want to have you settled before we cast off and leave this dreadfully dreary castle behind."