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"Lord Hector?" the handsome canine slave called through the closed door, "A Lord Julian Timbercreed is here to speak with you."

"Send him in."

I nervously entered my old friend's office while keeping my regal façade under check. Dressed in the finest formal clothes any member of the noble Timbercreed wolf clan could afford, even the youngest, Lord Hector sported a similar suit that was more casual. The moment the elk saw me stepping to his desk, and the slave closed the door behind us, he smiled and shook my paw.

"Julian, my good friend," he greeted. "What brings you here this fine day? If I'd known you were coming, I would've had lunch prepared."

"It is fine, Hector," I laughed heartily, then felt the reality of my situation start to grow heavy on my broad shoulders. "I only came here to ask you your opinion on such an extremely fragile and...well, egregious matter. You are the only real friend I can trust in this important decision, so would you please listen to me?"

"Allow me to make us some tea," the stag proposed, "and we can discuss it, Julian. I hear the crate I bought from Tenvier merchants help sooth worries away."

"Sounds divine," I gulped. "So long as it isn't too spicy..."

He laughed shortly. "Not this time. I promise."

After having one of his other house slaves pour us some of that delicious foreign tea, Hector and I sat down on the cushioned chairs stationed inside the large alcove that served as his personal library. As we enjoyed taking delicate sips, I eventually curled my tail and rested my cup on my lap.

"It is about Kareem."

My two elder brothers and sister always received the love and affection of our Father, while I lived in the shadows of their praise and success. Albert and Daniel ran our father's trading company while Tanya married a successful merchant who--while new money--still held influence in the elite circles. Meanwhile, I merely inherited a small bundle of our family's wealth while struggling to make a name for myself as a trader and part-time painter. I never needed audacious ways to display my status or wealth.

However, if there was one contribution from my parents that I would always be grateful for, even if they found it odd, it was Kareem. The svelte river otter from Diermya had been a birthday gift to me as a 'bedroom slave', when I turned the ripe age of sixteen. The same age as him, a quiet, obedient otter who now belonged to me: a pent-up virgin wolf.

To my credit, the first time I penetrated Kareem had been gentle. I did not want to hurt my new property, after all. And by the time I came inside the lithe otter's well-trained tailhole, it would be one of many evenings (sometimes mornings) that Kareem serviced his new master. At first, I only viewed him as simply another slave, someone who deserved to be subservient beneath someone as noble as the Timbercreeds. However, that worldview would change one week when I learned Father intended to sell Kareem to a despicable hippopotamus who'd been rumored to torture his slaves to death.

Although the otter only spoke to me when spoken too, I saw the absolute fear in Kareem's eyes when it was announced he'd be sent to the hippo nobleman. Apparently, the rumors had also reached the slaves too.

Before the estate guards could take him away though, I did something impulsive that would cause my family to see me as their outcast: I offered to buy Kareem using a years' worth of my allowance.

Fathered, while surprised, relented. Kareem now belonged to me.

When I brought him into my bed chambers, the river otter further surprised me by kneeling his naked form to my feet. Through shaking tears and a trembling voice, he proclaimed, "Oh Master Julian, I am forever in your debt! I pledge myself to you until the end of days and beyond! I...I am yours to serve forevermore."

From that day onward, in the safety and privacy of my bedroom, I allowed the otter to slowly open his bright personality out to me. Turned out, he held a secret passion for art like I did, and we would spend hours describing and debating the most wonderful of painters and sculptors, before I made love to him that same evening. Unlike before, however, I allowed Kareem into my bed, and held him close as we fell asleep. I didn't think he'd ever slept so soundly in his entire life until then.

I went on to tell Lord Hector of the years that passed. While I held onto a decent inheritance and the rest of my family sought to heighten their status among the elite, I bought a well-furnished townhouse that Kareem helped maintain. His loving personality and eager, growing smile then seemed to outshine the sun itself. And over time, in our own little world where classes and citizenship did not matter, we...

"...fell in love," I finished an hour later.

Hector did not speak for a few minutes, simply looking down at his cup until it soon became empty.

"You know it is unbecoming of noblemen to be unwed," he said. "What do you plan to do, Lord Julian? If word ever got out, it would shame the Timbercreeds."

"That is it, my friend," I explained, sighing as I gingerly set my own tea aside. "I plan to no longer be a Timbercreed. By blood yes, but otherwise, I am merely another stranger."

If my tale beforehand had not gained the elk's attention, this gossip certainly did.

"It is true," I chuckled lightly, "I plan to give up my title as an heir to the Timbercreed inheritance, and set up an antique trading post in Larana. I have always dreamed of maintaining a collection, but as far as the rest, Kareem is only aware that I plan to disinherit myself."

"You must have surely gone mad, Julian," Hector half-laughed in amusement.

"Are you planning to talk me out of it?"

"Not today," he confessed. "As much as I would like to, I can tell you seem determined to form a life all out on your own. However," he placed our cups beside each other on the neighboring table between out chairs, "I would like to ask what this has to do with Kareem. A nation like Larana only recognizes slavery contracts for foreigners who are staying temporarily. They surely will...not..."

The elk finally realized what I planned to do.

"I want to ask Kareem for his paw in a homosexual marriage," my voice strained, despite how uncertain I still felt, "and I want to free him from the shackles of being a slave. And yet..." I gripped the knees of my trousers, and my tail curled closer to my legs, "I worry he will leave me the moment he is a freed man."

"For God's sake, Julian," he sighed with exasperation, "The lad would never leave you. He looks up to you like you are the only living thing in the world. He worships you like you founded the church. You are literally the reason he is still alive to this day, so why are you frightened--"

"Frightened? I'm bloody terrified, Hector!" I suddenly barked, then sheepishly stared down at the ground. "Kareem means more to me than anything in this whole world...but...I worry that his friendliness to me, his laughs and joy whenever we're together, that they're all fake, and it is only the machination to gain his freedom..."

It wasn't an uncommon practice. One Lord Barclay became the laughingstock of the elite in Pross several years ago, back when I was attending boarding school, when he freed a slave of his simply out of kindness. She fled to Meisenl with a quarter of his fortune the very next morning, never to be heard from again.

"What you have for Kareem seems more than a fancy romance for the male flesh, Julian," Hector told me, having been deep in thought. "I cannot understand why you would surrender your family name in order to wed this otter, but if I were you, I would definitely test his devotion to you. Afterward, it is all in your decision whether to wed him and start a new life elsewhere...where you can find happiness with him."

"If...If this is all true," I asked, "will you visit?"

With this question, the tall elk simply smirked. "So long as you do not mention my invitation, I will gladly attend such a wedding, Julian."

My tail wagged. "Thank you, my dearest friend."

Later that evening, following a heated, passionate and orgasmic time spent making love in a soft bed, I found the courage to present my otter two documents. One was the deed to a property in the capitol of Larana, where I hoped to open the antique emporium. The other was the otter's slave contract and a written letter, telling Pross' royal clerks how I intended to null and void Kareem's slavery contract.

The moment I carefully explained what the latter read (him being illiterate, though I expressed wishes to teach him in the near future), Kareem began to cry and pleaded, "Why? Am I not good enough for you, Master? Hav-Have I done something to offend--"

"No, you haven't," I tenderly held his shoulders, "I am doing this because next month, you will no longer have to call me 'Master'. Not then or ever again..."

"W-Why's that?"

"I..." clearing my throat, my voice finally found the will to say, "I want you to be my husband, in Larana. I love you, my Kareem! By God, I love you, and want to spend the rest of my existence with you. To hold you as my equal...and I want to do it only if you want to..." I shivered at the dark thought, "but if you only want to live free, then I will respect your wishes."

"Oh, Julian...My sweet, wonderful master...Julian...yes!"

In the end, I did not have reason to fear. Not when Kareem broke down, crying, and kissed me on the muzzle. Minutes later, we pulled each other into our embrace and returned to the bed. Not as master and slave, or owner and property, but united lovers. Fiancés awaiting their freedom...together.