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The Collections of the Jackal

for FlussPuss

by Draconicon

Something was happening at the Palace, and Neil didn't know what. All he knew was that his fellow slaves were acting strange.

The caracal kept to himself most of the time. Being a Palace slave rather than an attendant to one of the members of royalty, he wasn't allowed into most of the rooms without a summons. His responsibilities lay in keeping the outer halls clean and ensuring that the braziers remained lit, the water wells topped up, and the plants well-watered and beautiful. He attended those responsibilities well, keeping his head down as slaves were meant to do, and didn't interfere with the duties of others.

But when the other slaves stopped doing what they were supposed to do, no longer cleaning the halls with him or drawing water from the moat around the Palace for use in the general functions that they were meant to keep running, it was impossible for him to keep his head down any longer.

He watched as some of his fellow slaves walked down the halls with their heads held as high as free men, but dressed nothing like them. Neil had missed when they'd changed how they dressed, but rather than dressing in loincloths, they dressed in almost nothing. A scant diaphanous cloth ran down from their waists to their knees, but it hid nothing, so see-through that he could see their swinging cocks. Their ankles were clad in golden bands, and each wore a double bracelet of gold on their left arm with an armband along their upper arm. Golden collars with draping brass beads ran down their chests, and, and...

And there was that strange thing that they wore over their stomachs. It was akin to a gem, but not like any that he had ever seen, so perfectly smooth that he thought it was some sort of pearl at first, but no pearl had ever shone like that. It glowed with a deep inner light of pink and green, almost like it was pulsing even when the sun didn't shine on it. And with every pulse, his fellow slaves sighed happily, turning towards the core of the Palace as if they were called to it by some unheard voice.

He watched them, day in and day out, wondering what had changed and why they had been given such decorations. It took him a week to gather his courage and follow them when they left their duties and see what had happened to them.

Unfortunately, it seemed that they were not keen on being followed. They had scarcely turned twice past the outer halls towards the greater inner rooms before one of them - a caracal feline much like himself - turned and saw him following. The dreamy smile disappeared, replaced by an austere sneer.

"What is the meaning of this?" the feline said, raising his voice.

Neil stopped in his tracks as the rest of the better-dressed slaves whirled upon him. They stared, and he blushed, rubbing one arm embarrassedly.

"I...I just..."

He was less than them, and he felt it. His meager loincloth was the cheapest cotton that the master of the Palace would provide, and it barely went down to just under his sac. Unlike them, his brown fur had no decorations, and his bristly hair, fluffed and frazzled from the heat and moisture, was unkempt and ungroomed. His only redeeming feature were his slender features, his body fit and cared for, rather than the slight plumpness and heavier features that some of the other slaves were starting to get.

The caracal that had called him out smiled.

"The master will want him. Seize him!"

Neil had no chance to fight back before he was grabbed by arms, legs, tail, and head. One of them gagged him with their hand and they lifted him off the ground, carrying him towards the core of the Palace with such vim and vigor that he was completely lost to the moment, not knowing what was happening and too confused to sort himself out.

Through the Hall of Waterfalls they passed, the spritzing water coming out in splashes from the great ponds and taking away the heat of the day that saturated the outer halls. He almost shivered from the drop in temperature, but he was too busy trying to understand what was happening to him, and what would happen to him to focus on that. What was going on with his fellow slaves? Why were they acting like this, and why...

Why were they getting hard?

Their loincloths rose as they walked deeper and deeper into the palace, and by the time that they stood outside of the great throne room, they were as erect as could be, lifting their loincloths and staining the transparent silks as they did. He blushed, barely able to get a look before they ran inside and threw him to the ground. He had to roll to avoid damaging his arms or shoulders, and came to a halt before the throne.

"Another for you, oh Master!" the other slaves called in unison.

Master.

The Master of the Palace.

Neil prostrated himself before the throne, throwing his arms to the ground and bowing his head. For a moment, he felt the gaze of the great master of the slaves and everyone else on him, only to hear a chuckle after.

"Ah, yes. This one. Raise your eyes, slave. Let me see your face."

There was not a slave in the Palace - nor in the kingdom, for that matter - that would have been able to resist the call of the great master. Biting off a whimper, Neil lifted his head slowly.

Ineni, the great Master of the Palace, reclined on his Throne of Indulgence, as the black-furred jackal called it. Made of many cushions and draped with blankets that were chilled to repel the heat, it allowed the great jackal to recline rather than force him to sit upright. He was doing such then, his loincloth cast to the side and his greath sheath leaning against one thigh as the Master looked down at him.

Neil's breath froze in his throat. He had never been before the great Master before, and this...this was so strange, so out of place. Everything felt like it had gone mad, from the behavior of his fellow slaves to the fact that he was here - here, in the center of the Palace - and he didn't understand. The caracal shivered from head to toe, his tail twitching like mad, and -

"Yes, I remember you...quite a lovely specimen, actually. I don't know why I haven't had you summoned here yet."

"I...M-Master?"

"You will be mine. Adorn him, my harem."

Harem?

He had no chance to question the term before the other slaves laid hands on him again, carrying him from the ground before the Throne of Indulgence to a bed of cushions nearby that he hadn't seen. He blushed as they laid him on it, stripping him of his slave loincloth in the process before beginning to layer him with various accessories.

They grabbed him by one ankle and lifted it in the air, bending his foot slightly to push the band of gold around his ankle that matched theirs. The weight was odd but pleasing, and he had to admit that it was a good color on him.

Things went quickly after that, and his head spun as they adorned him with golden band after golden band, giving him the wealth normally reserved for those that came before the Master with requests for the kingdom and the means to pay for them. The least of the bands on his body would have been sufficient to buy two slaves of his own if he had been a free man, but now, they were merely decorations upon him.

They had fully covered him with the same golden accents and adornments that they had before he realized that he was completely naked before the great black jackal, but before he could reach down to cover himself, they kept him from doing that, too. Two of the near-naked slaves grabbed his arms and pulled them over his head, while others reached out behind the cushions and drew out -

"Be one of us."

"One of his."

"Part of the harem."

"Part of the harem."

"Part of the harem."

The phrase kept repeating as the other slaves took it up, almost as if they couldn't stop themselves. They kept whispering it, calling it out between them, and he was left to shiver and shake and wonder what would happen to him when he became like them. What had happened to the other men that he had spent his days with? Why were they so -

They brought out a stone that was like the ones pressed to their navels, hanging suspended against their belly buttons with no clear reason as to why. They just had it, and it stayed there, but this one was different. It was a soft, dull blue rather than the pink-green of the others, and it didn't glow like theirs.

And yet, when they laid it against his stomach, resting it against his belly button, he gasped. The caracal arched his back against the floor, his toes grinding against the stones and cushions for a moment as a shock of pleasure ran through his body, leaving him shivering from head to toe and panting and moaning, even.

"Yes...spread his legs..."

The jackal's command from somewhere out of his vision was followed, the various servants and slaves grabbing the caracal's ankles and pulling his legs apart. Two of them reached down, licking their fingers before rubbing them around his ass, while a third reached down and seized Neil's shaft. They stroked it, teased it, teased him as he floated on the strange, mind-numbing pleasure that came from so many of them at once.

"Ah...ah!"

He gasped as another pair of hands found his nipples, teasing them through his fur. His meager length rapidly reached full erection, throbbing against his belly as he squirmed and twisted in the cushions. One finger teased at his rim, almost sliding in before pulling back, soaked in spit before pressing against him again.

One slave found a vial of oil and started pouring it over him, and their hands became softer, gentler, smoother, massaging him and teasing him to greater and greater heights of sensitivity. He moaned out loud, unable to stop himself as they teased his cock with oiled hands, nudging his nipples up through his fur and pushing his fur down so that it let the little pink nubs be seen properly. They stroked his legs, teased his shaft, rubbed their slippery fingers against his hole.

And all the while, that little gem pulled his attention down to his stomach, leaving him feeling as if fluttering butterflies had been let loose down there. His thoughts were scattered again and again, thrown to the wind, his mind left without anything to hold onto. He panted, he moaned, and he started to...

He started to roll his hips against the touch of the other slaves, panting wordlessly for something that he was too out of his own head to understand. He didn't have the words any longer, just need. Need, want, and lust, all rolling together and becoming something even stronger, something even more potent than he could quite put his finger on.

"Please..."

The word came out slurred as if he had been spending his day drinking. He tried to speak again, but his mouth and tongue didn't want to work together. All he could do was moan, spreading his legs further on his own volition as the tingling lust grew stronger. His shaft began to bounce in eagerness, and his hole clenched time and time again.

And then, Ineni, the master, loomed over him.

He stared up at the muscular black jackal, unable to look away from his face and the golden fur that surrounded his eyes and ran in reflective lines along his cheeks and muzzle. The Master was a handsome man, someone impossible to look away from, and that gave him something to ground himself with. The jackal chuckled.

"You will do just fine here."

"M-Master?" he managed to pant. "What...what is..."

"Don't think. That is not for a slave to do."

No thinking. Not for a slave. It wasn't an outright command, but yet, at the same time, the tingling feeling in his stomach and the odd, warm aura that was coming off the gem made it feel like it should be. He should follow that. It would feel good if he followed that.

Meanwhile, the jackal took hold of his legs, bending them further back and making him expose his asshole even further than he already had. He blushed worse as he realized just how open he was, how his hole flexed, how his cock jumped and bounced and slapped against his stomach in eagerness for what was to come. He closed his eyes, not quite whimpering, but so eager for -

"Ah!"

The jackal's cock was not merely thick, but hot, and it all but burned at his hole as he felt that initial pressure. That touch turned to something else, a hint of something approaching discomfort, and then it was inside. His breath left him as that cock filled him, the pointed tip piercing deeper as the smooth shaft filled him, stretched him, marked him as something more intimate than the golden bands ever could.

"Ahhhhhhhhh."

The soft moan escaped him with the breath fleeing his lungs, and his eyes closed tightly as he felt that tip bottom out deep inside of him. The very base was knotted, already so thick that he wondered if it could fit into him, but at the same time, the caracal's tail twitched and almost wagged at the thought of it.

He wheezed as the Master slowly pulled out, lost to the intense stimulation of that cock. It was so big, so thick, and every thrust rocked him out of his thoughts of confusion and wonder. All that mattered was the thick dick plundering his insides, stretching him, marking him.

All around him, the rest of the harem kept up the touching and stroking and teasing, making sure that he felt them and couldn't forget them. Rubbing his chest, his head, his arms, everything that wasn't being involved in the hard fuck that the Master had claimed him for. He moaned, he shivered, he closed his eyes, but even then he couldn't stop imagining the eyes of his Master in his head.

With every thrust, it got easier, and as it got easier, it got wetter. The Master was already oozing inside of him, already dripping and leaving him slicker, warmer inside. With each thrust, he felt something squirting, and he'd briefly wonder if that was the end, but it never was. The Master was just that productive, and there was nothing to slow him down, and everything to make him thrust, work, and fuck that much harder than anyone else that Neil had ever seen.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He moaned and arched his back against the stone, his mouth hanging open as he felt that knot grinding against him. His thoughts were all but lost, but there were bits in there, bits that strained against the sea of pleasure that came from that hot rod battering against his inner walls again and again and again. Every time that he felt the Master pulling out, he wondered:

_Why me?

What happens next?

Why is it so hard to think?

What's happening to me?

Why does it feel so good?_

But then the Master would slide back in, and that pleasure would come, and the thing on his stomach would tingle and almost vibrate. It was so pleasurable, so mind-numbingly wonderful, that thinking just spoiled it. It was better to just take it.

He reached down when the other slaves stopped holding his arms, spreading his cheeks for the Master. The caracal didn't have to do anything else as the jackal rammed in harder than ever, that knot slamming against his rim and starting to slide past it, forcing it to stretch further and further. If it hadn't been for the mind-numbing feeling that he was going through as well as the sheer amount of slippery pre-cum inside him, he didn't know if he would have been able to take the whole thing.

And yet, the knot kept coming, slapping wetly against him, almost pushing his rim open, only to pull back and try again, and again, and again. Each time, it was that little bit further in, holding him stretched out more than a tiny caracal ever should be, until -

POP!

Then it was in, and he could feel the Master's balls rising, and he could feel himself spasming, and -

And -

And -

"NNNNNGH!"

He moaned as he felt the Master's heat flooding through him, only for the heat to turn into something else. A shock ran from his belly button gem to the warmth inside him, and then up his spine. The gem, the gem felt like it was sucking itself to his stomach, and then...

Then...

Then it was so much harder to think. No more thought, only the golden eyes, and the touch of his Master. That was all that mattered...

Keba waited at one of the outer guesthouses of the Palace, the stallion twitching and his eyes dancing from slave to slave as they passed by. While they were ostensibly all part of the same group, he had seen the palace changing over the last few weeks. There were those that wore a strange gem over their bellies, and there were those that didn't. Those that didn't went about their lives as they always had, while those that did were...

Well, they were gone. As far as he could tell, they no longer remembered what they were supposed to do, and they spent their days as if they lived in a different world than the rest of the slaves. It was as if they didn't remember where they used to work, who they used to be. All that mattered was the strange new clothes and pleasures that they pursued.

He'd ignored it so far, but when Neil disappeared and he lost his little caracal friend, he started to worry. When his fellow slave didn't show up again for more than three days, he started to get scared.

"Where are you?" he muttered under his breath, the white-furred stallion turning left and right, looking around the guest house and shaking his head. "This is getting out of hand."

They were supposed to meet here every week. Not for anything out of bounds or romantic, just for a little chat away from the confines of the palace, the guards, and the rest of the crap that they all had to deal with as part of being slaves. He had hoped that there would be some sign of the cat out here, something to tell him what the hell was going on, but so far, nothing.

Something had happened. He had to find out -

Thump. Thump.

Heavy steps, heavier than he was used to hearing out here. The horse leaned back, trying in a way that he already knew was futile to hide against the side of the building. He gritted his teeth at his own stupidity, looking around the corner.

Then he breathed out, his heart slowing down as he saw the shorter caracal.

"Did you have to do that? You...Neil..."

What he missed the first time he saw the second. The cat wore the same golden bands as the other slaves that had started acting so strange, and more to the point, he had that damn gem in his stomach. It didn't even sink into his navel the way that it had done with some of the others. It just hung there, somehow, a gem in the middle of the fur and flesh, and it glimmered and glinted every time that he looked down at it. He deliberately avoided looking any further down, knowing that he would be made to look at something that he didn't want to see, and fixed his eyes on the cat's face, instead, looking the caracal in the eye.

"What happened to you?"

"This? Oh, nothing happened."

"Bullshit."

"I swear, it's just...a promotion."

"To what?"

"I'll tell you all about it. I promise."

A promotion. That seemed like some sort of royal excuse rather than an answer, but he didn't have any proof of that. Even if that was the truth, he didn't know what he could say to it. If it was what had happened, that so many slaves had been promoted to a different purpose, it still meant that he had been judged less, and that he had lost those that he cared about as friends. Or, well, as close as they, as slaves, could get to friends.

They walked around the corner, putting the guest house between them and the rest of the palace. Neil offered a large clay pot that he had carried with him, the caracal nodding at it.

"I thought you'd like a drink."

"Always." He nodded, taking it and looking inside. "What is this?"

"It's a thicker thing. Something that the slave-tenders said would be better for us."

"I'd prefer water, but..."

"Do you want to go back to the moat?"

"Not really." He sighed. "Well...beggars can't be choosers, I guess."

"Nor slaves."

"Heh...Suppose not."

He tilted the pot back, sipping from the far end. It was thick, alright, and just barely warm in a way that was a little sickly. He forced it down; all slaves learned early not to be too picky about the food and sustance that they were offered, and he knew that he could hold it down if he had to. Saltier than he expected, however, and not particularly tasty.

He took three mouthfuls before passing the jug back to the caracal. Rather than drinking it, however, Neil just stared at him.

"What - mmmph!"

Keba had barely gotten one word out before the goo hit his stomach. He stumbled back, leaning against the guest house wall. His body was on fire already, and he gasped for breath as his cock started rising beneath his loincloth, the shaft already feeling tense and tight as it pushed up against the meager cloth.

"What...what is..."

As he tried to get the words out, Neil was already reaching behind his back, and he pulled out a stone of the same size and shape as the one that hung from his navel. Keba stumbled back, managing to quick-step just out of reach, and he shook his head.

"You...you..."

"It's for the best. The Master wants you, too."

"He..."

"He's not giving in. Get him."

That wasn't spoken to him, he realized. Many hands reached out from all around, other slaves that bore the same markings grabbing him. He fell over as they dragged him off his feet, the lean horse falling over backwards as they dragged him backward.

They didn't take him far. Once they reached the last of the guest houses, they entered it, and he was let loose. The wall of harem slaves kept him from running back out of the house, and he turned, not at all surprised to see the great jackal leaning back on the bed. Ineni smiled.

"Well, well...a slave that didn't submit to my seed. That is surprising."

"What...what are you doing?" Keba said, even as his cock throbbed, his face burning from suppressed arousal and need. "What did you do...what did you do to them?"

"I merely took what I wanted. Slaves are, after all, property. I just marked them as they deserved to be marked."

The jackal's harem surged forward, rubbing him, teasing him. They pushed him on, ripping his loincloth away, and his weak hands weren't quite able to push them back enough. One or another kept darting in with the stone, and three times he was able to push them back from his stomach. However, three was all that he had in him, and one of them - perhaps Neil, perhaps another - managed to get through and jam that damnable gem right against his navel.

He hissed, stumbling backwards another few steps, straddling the narrow bed that the jackal laid on. He panted as a sense of lightheadedness flooded over him. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he half-squatted before he realized what he was doing. It was only when he felt the kiss of that tip, that throbbing, tapered tip of the jackal's cock, pressing between his cheeks that he managed to stop himself.

"Nnngh..."

"You know this won't end well for you," the master of the palace said. "I thought that you slaves knew your place by now."

"I...I didn't..."

"Ah, well. You will break eventually. You all do."

"Nnngh..."

"Tease him. Help him understand."

And just like that, the other slaves - from Neil to the slaves that he had never seen before - lunged forward. Their hands were like shackles around his hooves, keeping him from stepping away, and their fingers ran up his legs, across his rump, everywhere and anywhere that might get a reaction out of him. Several grabbed for his balls, pulling on them gently, teasing his sac with everything that it had to release if he would just give in and allow the master to do what he wanted.

But it was Neil that pushed him to the danger point.

The caracal climbed over all the others, his mouth open and his soft fangs on display. His cock throbbed in that sheer cloth that they called a loincloth as he lowered his lips, pressing them to Keba's throbbing cock. It was that soft touch that sent a shiver of pleasure right through him, and his knees buckled.

"Ah!"

He lost a bit of his resistance, that tip managing to slide right into the center of his pucker and slide just a little bit inside of him. The horse bit his lips, trying to keep from sliding down any further, but Neil was so distracting. That soft touch of that tongue, flicking along his head and over that little swell of his urethra -

"MMPH!"

He whimpered as he sat down a bit further, just over an inch of jackal cock inside of him. His balls churned and the gem at his stomach was slowly shimmering, growing brighter the further that he took that cock.

The gem. That was it. That had to be how it...how it worked...

"Oh god...oh god..."

"I am your god, now."

Ineni's confident little statement was all that he could hear. The moans of the various harem members were sliding into the background for him, useless noise that didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. All that mattered was that mouth on his cock and the feeling of that...that...that thing...

The gem...the...

He was struggling to think, and his legs were shaking as the caracal bobbed up and down on his cock. The feeling was so good, the soft lips, the warm mouth, the eager tongue all combining to give him a blowjob that any slave would have envied. He moaned despite himself, his legs shaking, quivering, twitching.

One knee all but went out, and he finally lost control, falling backwards. He yelped as he took that cock up to the knot, sitting on that, and he felt like he had just had the air pushed right out of him. Neil smiled up at him, resting his hands on the equine's thighs, and he squeezed them, rubbed them.

"It's so much better, serving."

"Mmmph..."

"Just give in. Let the gem take you."

"I...I..."

"Part of the harem."

"Part of the harem."

"Part of the harem."

The chant was taken up by the rest of them, and he was lost in the noise as the jackal reached up and grabbed his hips, as well. The master of the palace pulled at him, grinding on him, and that thick shaft pushed hard into his depths. That knot, that thick knot that was so big that it could serve as a seat and cushion, ground against his rim.

They entered a game that was as cruel as it was pleasurable. Keba tried to pull himself up, his legs shaking, and he'd manage to get anywhere from halfway off the shaft to just an inch up, and then, the jackal would pull him back. He'd feel that knot, struggle against it, clenching like mad as he squirmed to pull himself together and try again.

And fail again.

And try again.

And fail again.

Each time, the effort it took to get back to his hooves was so much more, and the gem at his navel fogged his head that much more. It was so hard to think, so very hard to keep his thoughts running in the right direction, and more than once, he almost fell over and gave up.

And then...

And then, Ineni pulled hard enough to break him. He lost his balance, his legs going up in the air, and his ass came crashing down on that big, fat knot.

"Ah...ah...AH!"

It was so soft, that little 'pop' that signified the knot slipping past his rim, but it was so much more than just a sound. It was like the click of a shackle coming closed, and it preceded a flood that ran straight through him.

"Mmmmm...yes...this will seal your fate..."

The master's words filled his ears just as the jackal's seed filled his ass. The warm flood that ran from his hole up to his stomach connected to that tingling feeling right over his navel, and as the two merged, the shock of pleasure that followed nearly knocked him out right then and there. His cock jerked, twitching, throbbing, then cumming himself, hands-free and without a single thrust to take him over that edge, but it didn't matter. The master's seed was in him, and -

No, not the master, the Master. He could not think of the jackal with such disrespect any longer. As a matter of fact, he could barely think at all.

His head tilted back as he let that seed collect in him, gathering greater and greater pleasure as his fears and worries were consumed in the melding. What little resistance he had was burned up in the continuing orgasm as his ass clenched and milked that shaft between his cheeks. That knot, that impossible knot, was all that mattered.

Clench.

Milk.

Tease.

He was a harem slave now, and that was all he needed to be.

The End

Summary: Two slaves in a palace are 'invited' into the harem of the great master of the country, neither entirely consensually.

Tags: M/M, M/Many, Harem, Caracal, Horse, Feline, Jackal, Anubian Jackal, Dub-Con, Drugs, Cum, Orgasm, Mind Control, Corruption, Anal, Knotting, Ornaments, Artifacts,