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I hear nothing but a ringing.

Every other sounds, whether voices, musical instrument, or steps, are muffled. I only hear that noise etching its note in my head as I watch before me.

My chair, so uncomfortable and painful to sit on, is a mere footnote as I sigh and try to recover my bearings. And fail. The metal armrests may bite my side, and my back hurts from leaning forth.

But in comparison... These, too, are footnotes.

I don't feel my body, my legs, my hands. I only see that Bull before me.

He's bowing by our Porcine overlords. That male, that Bovine of black coat, is a monster of muscles underlined by years of experience and combat. Where I lay my eyes, I see the sea of brushed black hair: pinkish notes arising from the sea of strands in lieu of his bulging muscles.

But... When I see those eyes, green as emerald. I only think one thing: to have tears stream from them as that large muzzle chokes on my dick. I yearn, I lust, I think about those pursed pink lips sucking on my shaft and swallowing whatever comes from it. That tongue is just as tempting, but then...

There's the rest of that body.

Those pectorals are made to be fucked. Those fleshy mounds beg me to put my dick between them, so he can masturbate me. Those fingers may be rough, but I see them closing on those nipples and squeezing them while I thrust in between.

And... I can't stop dreaming. My eyes may flutter, be drawn away by the muffled sounds, but they're ceaselessly pulled back to that man. A male whose strength could surely break me and almost everyone around, easily a porcine or two. And yet... I can only dream of seeing that man ruined, fucked, abused, forced on his knees.

Why?

Szzzzz!

That was the first sound of my new life as I reeled against the white-hot iron, trying to grasp back my freedom. The sound of burnt flesh filled my nostrils until I could only smell the crisp skin, my skin. My skin, my body, myself. Once my fur had been peeled away from the wound, I was given pleasure and peace as someone's large fingers applied a greasy but soothing balm on the etched brand.

I was a slave... I had been enslaved. Ruined, brought on my knees, bought on a flea market like a vulgar merchandise. Someone sold me like I was a mere pittance! A mere tool!

Always will I remember the flashing light of the burning sun above me as I thrashed against the slavers' arms, as the sizzling flesh was... Marked. And... And the mark of my Master would remain on me, below my dun fur, as a reminder.

And this... This was the mere beginning.

After the iron and the balm, powerful hands lifted me and dragged me along a path I could not fathom. Through streets and tunnels, I was brought somewhere and to the shade. But during that time... ... I was unable to see. Cold sweat had perspired over my forehead and nose, drenching them and my dark mane on the same occasion. Weakened by the pain, I had been rendered unable to lift even my right hoof. I may admit the smell of urine I have sensed during all that time might have come from me.

For a first day in my new life, everything had been so harrowing I dropped dead when I was pushed onto a bed.

How long I slept?

It was impossible for me to know, as I was never given a clock or did see the sunlight until I was branded. I was bound to wake up. Contrary to what I had thought of my slavery, I was not left to sleep in a terrible bed of hay or something similar.

When I opened my eyes, my muzzle lay on a comfy pillow, and my naked body covered by a just as comfortable blanket. The mattress was padded and soft, the air warmed by the remnant of a fire smoldering in a fireplace. The light flowed from a large bay window. Everything in what would be my room was of mahogany, wide red mats, and a few tapestries of distant lands.

My slavery, my status... For anyone who isn't familiar with the Porcine Empire cannot understand.

Even as a slave, I was granted rights and status.

Maybe lessened compared to my homeland or the Archon Republic. But it was a status I possessed and was able to use, willingly or not, inadvertently or not.

This... This is what I learned through Tsun, who, in a way, was the first face I saw in my new life. A tiger whose large face and marine blue eyes were intensified by the stylized whiskers in the like of a handlebar mustache and a brushed, clean fur. His teeth dulled except for his fangs; my mentor spoke without the hissing expected from his kin. Furthermore, despite his intense thews covered by a tense black suit, he walked and marched without a single sound.

His shoes, black and polished, glided on any surface with a dead silence amplifying the gravity of his traits, furrows formed by years of bearing that same solemn expression.

An expression he didn't break as he turned to me. Whether in his duty as a servant or to the most carnal ones, he never broke of character. Picture me, emerging after a night of exhausted sleep, surely dirty and still checking the sore spot where I had been branded.

Then, imagine a Tiger who seems so serious he has never broken into a smile in his life. One with an impeccable leather vest over a clean white shirt, distinguished shoes... But without pants, without underwear. His bare ass was exposed, plain and simple. His body was to be revealed in that costume, and everything was designed for this: a belt maintained the shirt close to the body as Tsun moved and flicked his tail. Without so much of shame, the man entered my room to lift his tail and expose his pink pucker to me with one hand on the left cheek while his heavy and leathery testicles hung between his legs... Testicles that were as big as for any equine, much like the sheath he had on the front. As big as mine.

At first, I was exhausted and drained, dehydrated even. But that show was something enough I felt my sheath stir beneath the blanket. Enough for Tsun to stop and finally speak to me, as I was too abashed to talk: "Hmmm... A fine advocate for men's beauty. It will be easier for you to join our ranks."

His voice was hoarse, low, refined, without any accent.

"What?" I answered, blinking as I pushed against the blanket to cover my manhood, only for the Tiger to approach and pull it away, his eyes drawn onto my flared shaft that had slowly pushed through and become turgescent. The flesh throbbed, possessing an intense pink with a faint darker tone beyond the median ring. One the Tiger stroked with the lightest touch as he had passed his fingers over my right thigh, then onto my cock... Only then to beeline directly to my groin. He spoke, each word carefully articulated.

"What is your name?"

"H- Halin," I said, stuttering from surprise. But this didn't stop the Tiger from moving and approaching where I had been branded.

"A pleasure to meet you, Halin. My name is Tsun. Do you know where you are? And why?" continued the Tiger, his voice cold despite his first words. Me, I was still too shocked to move, and my dick only pushed higher as the caresses became more intense... And stopped around my belly, along the slightly sore skin that had healed better than I hoped.

"N-... No? Where am I?"

At that moment, I had hoped for an answer. Only to have that Tiger's mouth press against mine, to feel his raspy tongue prod my lips and invade them. Without asking me, that man forced me to kiss him, and I followed along, unable to stop. I tasted his saliva, the strange perfume and aroma emanating from it. My eyes closed, and... A moment later, I opened them again to those blue eyes.

Next, the cat scoffed and backed.

"Hmm... Satisfactory," Tsun said. But as my eyes wandered, I saw a pink spot from the white fur of his sheath. But before I could think more, Tsun spoke.

"You are currently sleeping in your room within Master Mallox's estate. He generously bought you from the capital market, and it seems he has projects for you. Hence, my presence at your side to help you learn the customs until you're fit to serve."

"Serve?" I nearly screamed, sobering up and jumping at the edge of my bed as Tsun stepped back. "Serve? I- I am no slave! I... I am a military officer!"

To this, the man merely pointed at my groin... Where was the brand. Where I bore and bear the design of a Boar's face, stylized with two prominent tusks and a large nose.

"You have his mark. Now, Master Mallox holds sway over your life, your death. You may attempt to flee, but you'll find it a better life to accept the role our Lord gave you. And you may even enjoy it. But come."

"Come? I-" I was about to say I'm a mere slave. But Tsun's lashing out stopped me.

"Do not act out like a child. You have duties, and I am here to instruct you. Whether you like it or not, you. Will. Serve. Now, come."

The Tiger's harsh tone surprised me. In a haze, I followed. I was naked, my fur sticking, my smell... Foul. But I followed, and my hooves led me through the magnificent mansion I would occupy.

Its classical architecture was to be honored, with multiple floors addressed by many stairs, discrete for servants and slaves or magnificent for nobles. Everything was of mahogany, and each pillar of said wood was another statue dedicated to the Porcine glory: whether as fighters lifting their shield, wise scholars reading their books, or simply standing there. Studies, Training rooms, Libraries followed the pillars, shepherded by the Porcines' statues we had to pass by.

And... I met the second face that day. I don't remember his trait, but I think he was a Caprine. Another male.

Contrary to Tsun's distinguished and leathery attire, that one bore a used white shirt over his gray fur and a cotton loincloth. The slave's horns had been sewn off, and he swallowed saliva with difficulty due to the collar with red stripes around his neck. It was then I noticed Tsun's collar, a discrete band with green stripes barely visible in comparison.

One detail standing out, barely concealed beneath the Tiger's white fur as he kept leading me around.

I came to know most of the Mansion's architecture, from the ever-changing gardens to the baths and warmed pools kept inside. In this, I saw many faces and learned a lot from this "order".

All slaves were fitted with a collar of varying colors: Bovines, Deer, Goats wore red ones, whereas elephants, lions, and tigers had green ones. And I saw, after many hours learning how to function the secret doors, a blue collar from a Bear descending one of those stairs. One black bear I never saw again but who looked at us like we were... Trash.

Me? I didn't know what collar I was to wear, and Tsun was not keen on telling me or giving me any clothes. The other servants usually wore something, but none batted an eye I was naked.

Yet, I felt humiliated and deprived. Ashamed as I was forced to stroll around the house like an idiotic child following a stern man while I felt the glances of the other slaves on me. Or... Eyeing my malehood. Even Tsun... Even he did it.

Even that cold man, snappy and exigent, glanced sometimes down. Though it was only during one of our breaks when we ate in the kitchen or another place...

Everything was a haze, everything passed so fast during that day. And though I was greeted into my room by a bathtub, I possessed no clothes.

And wouldn't wear one, even when I woke up the day after. I was still in the mansion, woken up by Tsun's arrival. And as I was jumping on my hooves, already was I thrust into something new.

"We must prepare for the celebration. Our Master will receive guests," were the words Tsun gave me with a snarl.

One that didn't depart as again I was led through corridors up to the second floor, almost up to the Master's quarters I would soon get to know. With a gasp, I entered the large room whose stench and content reminded me of a brothel.

The room was filled with shelves, bearing the weight of many rings and collars in such a large number I couldn't even tell if the Mansion could house enough slaves to fit each collar.

For a moment, as Tsun left me for his search, I stood around and observed those decorations. The red-stripped were rough and without any difference in size, but each time you moved an echelon from red to green, blue, black, then gold, the designs were more refined, more noble-like.

Up until those collars possessed sockets holding onto jewels or empty.

Those collars were to state a role and purpose. And before I could admire them more, I felt the Tiger's massive hands rope something around my neck: a tiny blue strand he had found somewhere before he explained it to me.

"Mallox hasn't blessed you with one of the collars. Therefore, you will bear this one until He will it so. Now, turn." continued the Tiger, rough and gruff.

Much like his fingers as, despite my jumpy attitude and my whines, I was outfitted a cockring around my cock like a... Mere toy. But more than that, I felt the Tiger's cock poking my backside as I thrashed and fought the ring's fitting.

"Le- Let me! I- I'll do it myself!"

"Nonsense, you must learn to let others touch you!" grumbled back the Feline until... My balls were sore, and so was my manhood, circled by a silvery band.

"Well. Your fit has passed? Good. It's done, but I have more for you. Master allows slaves to wear whatever clothes they want, but we don't have time to get you prepared."

In truth... We did have enough time. Nonetheless, I welcomed the stack of clothes I was gifted by Tsun and looked for a changing room... Before I caught on and donned what I had been offered.

First was a white shirt I buttoned up, arranged the collar. Then, I fitted the plain black vest. Followed decorative cuffs around his ankles as my hooves wouldn't fit into shoes like the feline's feet. Finally, those slacks... Black again, no different than Tsun's own cold style. But while he walked groin and ass bare, the front of my pants was cut out to expose my manhood. A choice definitely approved by Tsun's lecherous glances.

"Perfect."

Red in the face, I offered no resistance to Tsun's orders when he dragged me to what would be the courtroom. A large throne room, in a semicircle with Mallox's seat at the center of the arc and the entrance directly facing him while rows of chairs were aligned to allow people to sit by him.

Right away, it was not the beautiful red mats or the stained glasses decorating the room in variegated twinges. No... It was the stench.

Of sex. Of musk. Of sweat. Of desires. Of fluids. I gagged and gurgled, taken aback while Tsun happily inhaled with his puffed-up chest. My nostrils burned with that odor, my mind swirled with shame as the Tiger walked me around the chamber.

We were there early. Not only Mallox had yet to arrive, but most chairs were empty, too. The only present were three zebras right by the throne. Three males, with only their size and musculature to tell them apart, were idly chatting in their proper costumes made of translucent veils in a style coming from the southern Sultanates.

They were laughing, smiling, and poking at one another while ignoring us, their black collars shining with garnets. They looked like concubines... And as I knew, they were there to please Mallox and satisfy his needs. But they were stroking themselves.

Their black shafts, equine like mine, were exposed in plain light while their hands tugged at them, uncaring for the precum painting their shaft.

For a moment, I was lost in the observation and felt the necessity to approach... Talk, and see closer them manhood. I inhaled, filling my lungs with the room's perfume as I stepped further.

"Hmm! Halin!" interjected a gruff voice, Tsun's. From this eerie daydream, I was pulled back by Tsun, who hadn't followed my last movement and instead stood by a chair at the end of the line. It was clear I would be the furthest from the Throne and relegated to a mere decoration.

"Really, Tsun? Are you so spiteful to force him in your chair?" asked a voice, chanting and calm.

One I had turned away from, one of the Zebras'. They had turned towards us, but only one had spoken and pranced to me, flashing his pendulous shaft as he approached.

"Tssk, idiotic cat. You couldn't see reason even if Master Mallox were to gift it to you," said the youngest zebra and shortest, his green eyes onto me as he gauged me up and down. Then smiled. I smiled back.

"Halin, is that right? Call me Farai," he continued, gripping my vest to pull me closer.

"Please, don't!"

I tried to move away, but he forced me to stay put with a glance and a quick word.

"Let me see! Hmmm... Yes, he needs to learn his place," stated Farai as he turned to Tsun.

"Tsun. You will take your place like usual."

Farai's tone was imperious, exigent, and demeaning, like Tsun's. I expected the Feline to fight back or hardly contain his emotions. I didn't expect him to smile from ear to ear, to see those eyes darting on Farai's manhood while his own slowly peeked out of his sheath.

"Of course. I will do as required." This... This surprised me.

However, before I could react, I felt the Zebra's hands on my shoulder. And Farai pulled me towards his peers.

Already was I seeing a shuffle amidst the two remaining Zebras, whispering and calling onto their attendants, eager to fetch a seat, running around like headless chickens.

"Wait!" uttered Tsun. "He cannot join you, he hasn't been rank-"

Farai was nothing more than a concubine, yet I felt his hand dig into my shoulder like a dead vise to the point my arm twinged.

"Are you forbidding me from doing what I desire?"

I didn't hear the answer, but the satisfied huff that followed and the release told me everything. Then, I was ushered to the duo of sitting Zebras.

Where they had added a chair, one especially for me as I was pushed between the biggest Zebra and seemingly oldest from his frows, and Farai. The furthest of the three, and the closest to the Throne in comparison, maintained a modicum of a distance.

Andile, Bandile, Farai. They were indeed three brothers: Bandile was the oldest and biggest, while Farai was the youngest and smallest. As for Andile, he was alright but mostly Mallox's favorite.

"So, you're the newcomer! What kind of attendant will Master give you?" asked Farai, effusive and bubbly while captivating my attention.

However, not enough for me not to notice the sound of hands clasped around something humid, the echo of something dripping and heavy falling on the grounds, and moans.

I tried to turn my head, only for Farai to catch my chin and keep it facing him.

"Where are you from? We rarely see horses; you are quite an oddity here. How proud are you of serving our Porcine lords?"

It was not a mere line of questioning; it was an investigation driven by the youngest. Not only by his lips, mobile and dancing. But by his fingers that drew closer to my exposed groin. One second before, my head was kept locked into the Zebra's eyes. The other, I had those deft fingers massage my groin and try to extrude my dick from my sheath.

It was quick, thorough, brutal. Farai wasn't waiting as his fingers dug within my sheath folds, circled the exposed flared head until I gasped and moaned. From the wetness I sensed, I knew precum had dribbled from my dick.

I was out of my luck, unable to move or fight. That male stroked me while my pink shaft slowly pushed and elevated from the folds, releasing its natural musk. But close to the Throne, to the Zebras, it was a mere drop in an ocean.

Each breath was hard on me, not only from the flurry of questions. And... I could wrong them. They held power over the others, perhaps as much as that Mallox I had never seen before. And I was in their grip, unable to extirpate.

"From what I heard, you were a soldier before? Were you fighting for the Empire? Of course not. You must have been a-"

"Farai, keep quiet!"

The youngest Zebra frowned, his lips pursed. But he stopped speaking, though he pouted as he reclined on his seat. His hands were no longer on me, but the effect was still there, and my half-hard cock was out in the open. I was so out of breath.

Andile, my de-facto savior, was on my right, and though he made no attempt to get closer, he eyed me. All the while, he stroked his massive ebony shaft, pressing on that glistening and magnificent flesh. The veins throbbed beneath the skin, pumping blood in that monster of a cock.

"As Farai says, you're the first Horse joining our ranks, and my brother can be inquisitive."

I gulped, dragging my fingers down onto my cock. There, I wrapped my right hand over the base while the other stood above as to still it. Cautiously, I dragged the skin on the underside of my shaft as I always did, tugging and pulling onto the sensitive flesh.

"Wh- Why?" I asked, grunting a bit excessively. But it seemed to have satisfied Farai because I heard grunts from my left, too.

"Because rare are those gifted by nature like us," answered Andille, his lips purling as I watched his legs tense and a globe of precum ooze out of his dick onto the ground. Already had a puddle formed, unable to be soaked up by the mat. One for each Equine dicked stud... But me.

Me? I wasn't as fierce. I did masturbate, stroke myself. But I was in no way comparable to the Zebras when their dicks were akin to poles and almost a third longer than mine. Their dicks, all three, were hanging heavily and swaying under their strokes as those massive hands worked on the skin. The digits grasped and pulled, imprinting within the throbbing flesh while sweat and precum sprayed from the regular movement.

It was long, steady, tempting. Enthralling.

Then, I noticed the drop of saliva at my mouth's corner, one I quickly wiped, though Farai saw.

Again was the youngest Zebra's hand on me, exploring my lower belly but no further. He already had his massive ebony cock to handle.

"Do you like it, right? That's how it is with us, Equine... Cock brothers," chuckled Farai anew, his fingers pulling on the remaining folds from my sheath by dragging his index along the underbelly.

"Do you must call us like this?" grumbled Bandile, his voice soft as silk but deep.

"Of course... This is what we are? Nothing can take this from us... Yet," chuckled Farai.

Already was I hearing the shuffle of the youngest on his chair. And our armrests were pressed together as he leaned. There, without the separation, I could see my cock and Farai's together. And... He was bigger.

Way bigger than I was. Way bigger than anyone I had seen. This wasn't a dick but a monster, something bred selectively or unnatural, something that shouldn't be.

However, I was unable to continue that line of thought.

At first, it was a commotion and grunts coming from the far distance.

But then, me too, I smelled it. That raw stench, etching into my nostrils, a perfume of brutality and care. It was sweat, salt, saliva... But more. More heady, more intense, more pungent. More than that, I desired more.

I inhaled, and my fingers moved in their own volition, rabidly stroking my cock as if my life depended on it. I barely sensed the pleasure or the pressure on my cock. It only felt natural, normal, expected. I stroked myself, grunted, groaned.

And only stopped when a hand hit my chest.

Not too strong, but enough to take me back to reality.

Everyone, even the Zebras, was panting loudly and moaning.

Even the seats further on my left, filled by Orcas, Bears, Gorillas, were in the same state. Even Tsun was no different, the stern servant masturbating with abandon, so unlike him.

"Perfect, isn't he?"

"Perfect, isn't he?"

The second time, I was able to turn toward the "He" in question. I don't know how the male had appeared, but He was there. Mallox was there, at his throne. A monster of a Porcine with bristle black fur covering most of his naked form except for the collars and jewels he sported around his neck and fingers. His ears were large and fluttering at each of the moans filling the room, his prominent nose sampling the smell of his possessions enjoying his gift.

He was naked, but I couldn't see his body unless I leaned forward. I couldn't see his form, see more of his heavy frame that was undoubtedly fat yet muscular, stocky. I desired more, I had to see more.

I breathed, I grasped the armrests with such strength it burned.

He turned.

He turned, and his red eyes, fiery like lava and piercing. His red eyes were on me, watching me, gauging me, estimating me.

He... He estimated me, he...

I felt something wet between my legs, slathering my thighs as the grunts around the room reached their apogee.

I dropped.

I blacked out.

I fell.

I felt.

Fingers were on my body, exploring my lower belly and my equinehood. But I couldn't stop them, nor cease the rawness from my erect shaft. It was too sensitive. So sensitive as I opened my eyes to my cock with its cum-coated tip and Farai's hand working on it, masturbating it.

Steadily, I turned to see the young Zebra who seemed so focused on trying to coax more cum out of my spent body... All ending in a tiny spot within the mat. Nothing like the Zebras or the Orcas on my left. Much like Tsun's spot or the Gorillas.

We... We all came from Mallox's blessing, whom no longer watched us.

"Finally, as a reward for his efforts in the war!"

The crier's voice resonated with the large throne room amidst the spent groans and moans from those enjoying their afterglow. Unlike me, some were still sprawling on their chairs while ejaculating more on the ground.

And I guess some were envious: as I drew my gaze further to where the court members, guests and merchants alike, and the crier had been, I noticed them fidgeting. Well, a few seemed unaffected by the situation. The others, however, sported strained pants. And foremost was the crier as he approached, bowed and directed his hand at the entrance.

Stomp!

Was the sound of those hooves, despite the mat attenuating them, like a war drum.

It got closer, until I saw him.

That bull. That green gaze, that massive body covered with a military uniform. The textile seemed of quality, dyed in blue with multiple chevrons on the shoulders while medals had been broached over his chest. That man bore a saber of tremendous size, almost as fitting for a man of his might, in a scabbard.

That man... Could break me in a second.

And I lusted... I lust after him.

I desire, yearn, dream. My woolgathering only worsens with him bowing by Mallox, I notice a strain in his pants. But he bears the weight of my Master's perfume stronger than I do as he remains cognizant with his green eyes brimming with energy... And envy?

Around me, I hear the sounds of sneers and jeers as well as Farai's whispers right to my ear: "Here comes the steak. I wonder how Master will devour him."

I turn, my eyes wide like plates, but Farai doesn't care.

Nobody seems to care. Worse, the slaves are back to their idle strokes as they chat and comment on the court. But not on the bull. Not directly.

Am I the only one to see him?

Probably not, as a glance at Mallox reveals the Bull has all the boar's attention, but not mine. Not yet, as I discard the idle sounds for the proud Warrior's words.

"Milord. I bring this saber stained by the blood of our enemy. The defenses of the Republic are crumbling beneath our might, and they too will be blessed by our wisdom," says the bull in a solemn tone.

No accent, no slurring, no stutter. That man either prepared his discourse or is a fine speaker. Brain and brawn, has he both? I wouldn't be surprised as an aura of sheer power and... Yes, patience exudes from him.

On the battlefield, were I to stand before him, he would crush me. But here... I am a mere witness as he pulls the saber out of the scabbard.

Dried blood maculates the steel, going from bright red to a dark stain that threatens to crumble after desiccating. So much blood, even one gore couldn't cover the blade.

And yet, he offers it as if this is nothing: with his bent knee and lowered head.

"Milord. This humble pelt and meat offers you the blood of the vanquished in the vain hope of being blessed one day."

Again, the man formulates those words without fail. But... I cannot stop myself from digging into the armchair while I wrestle against the covetous hunger or my cock throbbing with desires.

I hate it. I fear it. I'm afraid of that man. Afraid of what I desire of that man.

"Please, I beg you to use me, Lord Mallox. Give purpose to my flesh, give purpose to my skin, give purpose to my hooves. I serve in life, so will I in death."

Around me, they cheer and applaud. But... I fight back the reflux in my throat.

That man could kill Mallox in a swoop, all of us, if he wants. He's a monster, a titan, something of a past age. Yet, here he stands grizzled and swearing to be... To be killed? Eaten? Skinned?

"Urgh," I vocalize, hiding my mouth while my eyes water.

The surrounding Zebras have stopped playing with their shafts to applause and laud that man through jeering remarks.

Finally, He speaks.

Mallox speaks, and for the first time, I hear him, with a voice so soothing and deep. A baritone voice comparable to singing. I can listen to that man's discourses to no end. I feel my body clench and contract in reaction.

"Meat. You will be given purpose. Your days fighting in the field are done, as your age and your weakness shows. But you can still serve your betters," says the Boar, leaning on his armchair.

"If not... Your measurement will be taken. Hmmm. Perhaps boots or a cloak."

With that remark, He turns towards us.

One by one, his cold gaze pierces us while we nod. Us slaves, we nod. Me... I nod. I nod and clap for that choice like the others, unable to restrain that need and compulsion.

I sense my lips curl in a smile and my teeth showing, my face contorting to the point it hurts. And my tears are still there, retained by my thoughts.

"However. For your service."

His voice echoes through the throne room, instantly silencing the clapping and cheers. Even my face relaxes, and my smile disappears.

A relief I savor while Mallox speaks: "You will become an attendant. Fate wills it. I have one of my beloved left uncared for. Halin."

My ears perk up, my eyes drawn onto Mallox anew. And He's looking at me, offering a snarling grin to me.

My feet move on their own. Or perhaps I've forgotten how I control them.

They move, and I spring up on my hooves, my hand reaching for my chest. Yet, I feel no fear as my right hand reaches for my left shoulder.

My face hurts... So much.

"Master," I say without any fault. A part of me screams, thrashes in my mind and hurts. But it doesn't stop.

"Please, my Beloved and Friends," I cannot see, but I hear something. He's standing up on his hooves. Awe follow. Cries follow. "Welcome Halin, the latest member of my Household. And he will take possession of this meat and see to its care how he sees fit."

"Thank you, Master."

My mumble isn't mine, but I don't back off. I am facing the Bull who is facing me back. His green eyes meet with mine. They're glimmering, his features marked with a smile, a genuine one, as my body straightens.

"See, Bandile. I told you Mallox would have appreciated his presence among us!"

"I didn't tell the opposite, idiot. It's just he's not like us."

"Nonsense, you two. You have no way to peer into our Master's thoughts. If he did so, it's because he has a purpose for Halin."

Behind, the three Zebras are idly chatting, but I can't see them.

My eyes, features, and body are drawn forward as if a puppet. I feel no resistance, no pull, no push from my limbs. Even now, I lower my hand. But I don't.

Nor do I step away, instead coming closer as the sounds surrounding me abate and dull. The abuzz crowd and slaves, their voices mesh into a white noise.

The Bull stands before me, and I reach for him, for the collar I now see around his neck: red streaks.

I yank that monster of a man on his hooves until I have to contort my neck to see his face. And then smile, smile so much my face is afire.

"Beloved Halin, take away your collar."

Without a thought, I yank on it, too, as it snaps apart. It's a mere cord I throw aside, though its bite burns my flesh.

But as I turn to Mallox, I witness a slave on his knees before me. In the Wolf's hand lay a cushion bolstering a collar: Golden. A golden choker with polished jet gemstone socketed in it. It's... Beautiful. And devious. Something so ornate shouldn't exist.

I feel it under my fingers, I sense its weight as I open it carefully and slide it around my neck.

The white noise encompassing the room grows stronger and deafens me.

I cannot even hear Him.

It is no matter. I hold the collar and feel it pressing against my throat; everything is different.

The Wolf has disappeared, so has the Bull at my side.

Leaving only Mallox. Master Mallox.

Between his legs, I stand, kneeling on the cold marble. My nostrils are tickling, my nose flaring with new sensations. So is my tongue, the tastebuds crepitating with newfound sensations.

I feel that throb between my lips as my Master pushes that long shaft further.

His hands are on my collar, fastening it while my liberated hands are free to explore my Master's manhood. His churning testicles burn and fill my hand. But further than that, I choke and slurp on his charcoal-black cock. His mushroom-shaped tip presses the back of my throat as I bob back and forth, drowned in the white noise.

The golden collar against my neck is like a weight pushed by my Master, crushing me between them.

I keep enduring, salivating, and slobbering over that shaft. I leave no spot untouched, no place uncared for. My elongated muzzle and prehensile tongue toil in tandem, circling and surrounding the dick even when I pull back and allow my Master's cock to retreat.

I taste my own throat, its coating, as well as the saliva I have there. But then, I'm back at feeling his wondrous leathery testicles under my fingers.

They, too, are not left untouched as I massage and roll their presence within my fingertip, working to please my Master.

Somehow... I want him to grumble and groan in approval. I want his hand on my head to pat it or press me to choke on his shaft, to be strangled until He's pleased with me.

Whatever I do, whatever I may do, it's all for his pleasure.

That... That thought rings in my mind as I gurgle, feeling a slight contraction of my throat as the trickle of air reduces.

But it's fine. I endure it, I reject the pain at the back of my neck while my throat clenches and opposes. Perhaps Mallox will like it?

I try to rub my tongue faster again that veiny black cock. I do not hear, I do not see, if not stars and a Deity.

Finally, Mallox grunts and groans. His hand comes and reaches me, touches me, pats me.

In less than a second, my world breaks apart as I'm pulled away in a push. He pushes me, forces me to relinquish that shaft I yearn and desire, to pry my fingers away, to swallow back my saliva.

I drop.

Around me, cheers and clapping break through the white noise, whistling and encouragement alike.

I lay there in a puddle of a liquid... And above me, towering above me, is my Master, his magnificent ebony shaft standing above me.

I watch, I listen, suffocating from the cries and the smell.

I suffocate.

---

I'm back. I'm... in my new home, a new bedroom.

It feels strange, odd, empty of something as I enter it with my body still dripping with my fluids. With a hand and care, I try to massage my sore throat and to appease the fire burning in it.

Before I walked back, the Zebras told me the swelling would pass and soon, my lips would be His, and His alone.

They're probably right, but it doesn't make it easier as I try to vocalize an A and only hear a rattling noise, nothing similar to my voice.

I dig my finger deeper, trying to find something to press onto as if it would release the pain and my blocked muscle.

But there's no such thing.

But there are two people waiting in my room, watching me.

A predator, a Lion whose black mane marked his role as a potential leader of a pride. Contrary to me, he wears a refined loincloth with filigrees and a green collar, opposite to the golden one he's eyeing right now.

His partner, in the opposite, is a large Elephant. That one is massive, large, but stoic. If one covets, the second doesn't care. Or rather, he doesn't seem to recognize anything, as his glassy eyes give off the impression of a void. Emptiness.

What could it take for someone to end like this? He doesn't tremble, shiver, or blink. He, too, is a green collar, but what happened?

"Sir?"

My rumination stops the moment I hear the singing voice of the lion. It's suave and calculated.

"Yes?" I say, instantly frowning as the sound is still too inchoate for my liking, so I keep massaging it.

"Are we dismissed?" he asks, smiling unashamedly.

"Dismissed? I thought I had an attendant. What are you doing here?"

"We are your servants, as requested by Master Mallox. As you can see, we prepared your quarters and accommodated the bedding to your needs." continued the Lion, a hand over his chest and the other pointing at his partner.

Stoic. As ever.

"Can he speak?" I ask, eyeing the massive man.

"Yes. I can."

Never before have I heard a voice so monotonous and... Dead. But he speaks, though something tells me to avoid his cold stare. So, I turn to the Lion: "Well, what are your names?"

"Lissouba," he answers, then points to his partner. "And his name is Nero."

Two names I'll have to remember then.

I cough, trying to reassert my control over my voice. And then, I raise my hand.

"Well, Lissouba, Nero, are you my servants, and you must do everything I do, right?"

"Yes."

"Of course, as Master Mallox wills it. You'll also know your attendant has been properly placed in the stables."

"The Stables?"

I did see them during the walk around, though I didn't remember the faces from that place.

"Yes, he is there. Do you have any requests about what should be done to him?"

"What should be done? He's my attendant, not my pet," I answer, raising my hand.

But from the Lion's grimace and growl, it didn't seem to be the answer. Gone was the awe and interest as Lissouba's countenance marks his disgust.

"Master. He is your pet, and you can do whatever you want. Some like to keep them from eating or sleeping. What do you desire to see?"

I blink, surprised by the man's words. He speaks his mind, he speaks the truth. And worse, I have no reason not to believe him as he's beginning to list the different ways of torturing the bull for my "pleasure".

"No, no, don't do all that," I grumble and wave, not caring anymore if my voice breaks. "Have him be fed, cleaned, bedded. Whatever he asks, make so he has it!"

Without even looking, I know the Lion is disgusted. His tail actively sweeps the air, revealing what he's thinking. As for Nero, his companion, I hear nothing from him but steps.

I look up to see the Elephant already trudging away while his partner pouts a bit but follows.

"Wait!"

"What is it, Sir?"

"Once you're done, you can have a rest or try to. You.. Hmmm. You are dismissed."

With those three words, I see the maned lion's face contort in a smile: a genuine smile as he bows down.

"Thank you, Sir!" he says.

No more covetous gaze, no more disgust. He's smiling and happily running away from my room, leaving me alone. And see what Mallox had given me.

The place is small, perhaps a tad smaller than an officer's private quarters in the army. But that's where I will sleep.

The walls are of mahogany, too, decorated with a few more tapestries of porcine lords. The sconces, few and far between, were lit by the servants and depicted bovines supporting the weight of the luminaries.

The fireplace is empty, but there is no need for me to light it as instead, I feel... Hot.

Warm, bothered. And exhausted.

Perhaps... I will finally get a proper night's sleep.

My steps are heavy. My heart beats at a slowed pace. My eyelids are heavy. But I carefully take everything off: slacks, ankle cuffs, vest, shirt. Easily, everything is taken off, but...

For a moment, I caress the collar, consider it.

But rather than taking it away, I'll merely sleep with it. If I'm not getting used to it, it'll bother me.

My bed, in comparison to the nights on the ground with metal cuffs or even the bed I woke up from, in Mallox's estate, is soft and perhaps bouncy. The mattress is large, the blankets on it are smooth to the touch.

Even the pillows were laid to be comfortable.

Perhaps... Perhaps I'll sleep well.

I may be dirty and sticky, but I cannot care further. Sleep welcomes me. And I answer.

---

It's the next day. The sun has appeared, pushing his rays through and illuminating my room. It has been more than an hour of me being wide awake after a long, restful night. Even there, I have remained stuck and satisfied in my bed, expecting nothing until Tsun pushes the door, in his impeccable costume as always.

A surprise, to be sure. However... That stern Tiger is akin to a lighthouse amidst the ocean.

Right now, he's even beaming. Well, as much as his contorted mouth and eyes could convey.

"How was your first night alone?" asks Tsun, his voice strangely cheerful as he comes closer to one table in my quarter, pulling a chair for himself after placing a tray.

Already, I smell the fresh eggs, the rich fruits, and the cooked sausages.

"I... It was alright. And you? Why are you here?" I ask, pulling myself out of bed and donning the clothes I was given.

"Most of the time, new slaves don't know they have to request their food to be prepared in the morning. Or perhaps you're fine being hungry until noon."

"Hmm, no. Not really."

There's no point in fighting the hunger. Hence, I step closer to Tsun and sit at the table, watching the two plates. One filled with exotic fruits, with fresh eggs. The other has porridge and sausage, which I take.

"Do you prefer porridge?" he asks, his mouth and voice split by a grin as we sample our meals.

"Hmm, not so much. It reminds me of the army, though."

The porridge is stale but filling as I dig, the sausages cured but fine. Nothing out of the ordinary as I eat and watch Tsun feasts on those eggs as if he has never tasted any before.

"So... The collar," I finally mumble, bringing up the topic of Mallox's gift still cinched around my neck, a crushing weight keeping me from moving my head around too much. Sleeping with it was a mistake since I am feeling my sore muscles crying out.

"Rare are those who got a golden collar. In fact, I don't think I remember anyone getting one," he says as he bites something looking like a pear with reddish spots and relishes the juice pouring all over his lips and mouth. Decorum has gone as he licks his lips.

"But, it is probably to reward your devotion towards our Master. You made such a spectacle."

He then grabs a paper towel, bringing it to soak the juice dripping from his chin.

"I must admit, I was afraid of the faux-pas you could have done. But you were born for this."

As he speaks, the only thing I can feel is the heat drilling my head and the shame from... Well. From being praised and appraised on my mouth's quality. Even now, I can foretaste what I had in my mouth or imagine it back there.

Follow suit saliva and hunger, two things I push back by digging another spoonful of porridge.

"Thank you for your praise," I mumble, eyes down.

"I don't know what took Master Mallox."

It is nothing but a whisper, but I hear it. And I see the Tiger's dejected expression as he looks toward the uncovered window, watching something in the garden. Some of his kind, other tigers, are seemingly working to carry around furniture and busts while caprines and bovines plow the flowerbeds.

On the second floor, everything looks so distant. And so easy to disregard.

"I heard you provided a bed, food, and all your attendant's needs yesterday night," snaps the Feline.

His fingers, lifted, have made that stringent noise. The second after, the bedroom's door opens.

And here... Here that Bull is back.

No longer in his uniform, his scabbard and blade have been taken away, as well as his clothes. Instead, remains his naked form trudging toward Tsun, who turns to him. He snaps again.

Those green eyes watch for me expectantly, until I give in with a nod.

A nod I give... As my eyes are drawn lower on the muscles coiling beneath the skin, the bounty of black fur covering that massive body. His fingers contract, relax. His powerful legs pull him closer.

All the while, his malehood stands erect like a pink spear pushing from between his thighs; above his pendulous and generous scrotum, its flared tip is directed at Tsun. Even without stroke or attention, that man is throbbing with desires. His mouth is contorted, and his face restrained. So it doesn't break into a smile.

But still does so as he goes on all four before Tsun, nothing more than an ottoman for the cat to kick his feet up.

"Haaah... It is good to use an attendant. Go on, meat, tell Halin what you wished to say."

I gulp at the display as the Bull's head turns toward me, awaiting another nod. Which doesn't come as I stand here, frozen.

"Sir? May I speak plainly?" asks the Bovine, his voice rumbling.

"O- Of course."

He breathes, I gulp... And I gulp some more as he unleashes it.

"Thanks, Sir, for taking care of me! Thank you for wasting such a good meal on me, for giving me such a nice bed! Your gener-"

"STOP!"

"STOP!" I scream, my voice suddenly hoarse and sore again until both look frozen... And I recline on my chair, massaging my neck. Only to turn my head away. Tsun looks just as surprised as the Bull I cut off.

"What... What is the meaning of this?" I finally mumble.

"Your attendant wants to thank you for your generosity," says Tsun, his voice cold and collected anew as he, too, reclines, fingers joined over his chest.

But I don't share his relaxed posture as I fidget on the table, taping it until...

"Fine," grumbles the Feline, snapping his fingers while he straightens himself, and pulls on his vest to straighten it. The Bull follows, nameless, by standing on his hooves. That one stays careful to watch each of our movements.

"Do you know what attendants are for?" the Tiger asks, joining his fingers again, elbows on the table, before his face.

"No... I assumed they were servants, but-"

"But they're not," confirms the Feline, darting his eyes at the afoot bull. "Attendants attend to our... Needs. Not our necessities. Frustration, Anger, Excitation. They're here to bear the brunt of our desires."

"But-"

"But it is the truth. Otherwise, What's the value of keeping some meat or leather alive? Of course, we're not cruel nor dissipating the slave's value by harming them. But should you feel the need, you could deprive them of any orgasm during the day, appeal to their inordinate lust."

Tsun's words are so calm and collected, disdainful.

"In honesty, this sounds like a test from Master Mallox," he admits.

"A test? For what purpose?"

"Well. You see, you're a newly arrived and were given an attendant right from the beginning. But attendants are also an asset."

"I don't see him as an asset."

"Well, you should. Because," he starts, uncrossing his fingers and pointing at the bull. "What could happen to your status if Master Mallox's gift was broken or outright "lost" due to your lack of vigilance?"

Again, so disdainful. But there's something colder as he speaks about that theoretical loss. One Tsun wouldn't dare to utter, even as he stands up and taps the Bull's face, watching for any reaction. The Feline smiles when nothing comes in return.

"You have a good attendant, Halin. Take care of him, maybe more will come."

"Wait... What can I do to help him? What can I do to help you?" I ask my "mentor" and then the Bull.

Though only the former answers.

"You can do whatever you want from him, nobody would bat an eye. On that note, I have duties to attend. I'll gladly follow the evolution of this situation in the coming days."

I blink, but there goes Tsun, bowing before me and stepping away, leaving me alone in that room with that... Bull.

"... Damnit."

As if my life wasn't getting more hectic, I now have to care for a Bull who does nothing unless I ask him to do so. One who seems so eager to be...

Even the thought makes me shudder as I watch him, see his green gaze awaiting any order from me.

"Bull... How can I call you?"

"Anything you'd like, Sir. Leather is fine."

"I won't call you Leather," I sigh, massaging my muzzle. "Can you follow me during the day?"

"Of course, Sir."

I sigh, knowing that asking him to stop calling me sir is impossible. But at least... I can protect him.

And could keep an eye on him by having me at my side.

So goes the following days.

After Tsun's revelation, and the Bull's willing submission, I have elected for nothing but to keep him close to me. I have asked servants to procure him a bed in my room, to have food served for him and me at the same time.

However, as the eyes have been drawn to me, I can only feel the shame. Some have decided to praise me on my devotion to Master Mallox, how well I sucked him off. Others have become hellbent on following me and my bull to know if I will torment him once.

Though... Although the worst has been my days as servants. During those, I have been allowed to keep the Bull around, but I sometimes have to work in proximity with Master Mallox. Moments when I have been feeling myself lapsing like I did in the throne room.

During those moments, not only are my thoughts, not my own. But more than that, I have no outlet for them but that bull. No amount of masturbation can release that pent-up lust.

And those green eyes, they're... Begging me. Always begging me to use his mouth and ass like he's a mere whore in a camp.

But I cannot.

I cannot give, I cannot be like the others. They may be shameless and perverted, but I don't want to debase myself like them.

I don't...

"Sir?"

The bass voice pulls me away, ever so gently, from those thoughts. Having no better name or refusing to give me his, "Leather" remains at my side. Here, in the confine of the study I have taken as my retreat, nobody besides Mallox would dare to bother. The door has been locked, the sconces lit, and the curtains pulled. Again, this is my sole escape from that chaotic place.

Foolishly, a part of me wants to turn toward the shelved books and see if there's any information on my location or the nature of the Empire.

The old training in me keeps hammering against my mind, telling me I'm in no secure place but in danger. And... How can I refute this?

My hands have been drifting on the hardcovers, seeing treaties on slavery, on the virtue of domination, on the beatitude of the lower classes.

Yet, here I am... In a room with a monster of a man whose eyes reveal cunning and cleverness, yet devoid of any... Any autonomy.

"When were you born? And where?" I ask, trying to remain afloat between two states.

"In a plantation far south," he answers without shame. "My mother was to be a leather heifer, but she got me and became a milking cow."

"What about your father?"

"I don't know. He could have been a guard or a bull. But breeding my mother was unauthorized, and he was surely punished. I never knew him, but this is alright."

A pang hits me in my heart as I try to recall home, about my family. A moment, fleeting, I chase away by shaking my head.

"You knew your mother, then? What was she like?"

"I don't know," again he answers, staying close to me and watching each of the books I pass over. "I only know she became a milking cow after me. I was raised by the plantation owner and selected to become a soldier like any calf."

This time, I stop. My hand has reached the end of the shelf, finding the wooden grain. And I sigh.

"Selected? ... What have you been taught? Do you know how to read this?" I ask, raising a hand toward the shelf. But he denies it.

"I am not able to. I can decipher some notes. But I have never been taught to read or count, but it doesn't matter. I am meat, I am a soldier selected because I was unable to produce any milk like my peers or had enough strength to carry weight. In fact, when I was a calf, I was scrawny and didn't want to fight."

Still, I observe his black fur, and that body molded to be a perfect example of a trained soldier. Perhaps a bit too heavy for a regular.

"You? Scrawny. I assumed you were birthed with abs and arms larger than your head."

"Haha, no. I was frail, easily sick. But my duty enlightened me. The Porcine Lords give us purpose in life. And thus, we thrive in that given purpose. My strength is their doing, not mine."

"You're awfully verbose," I answer, spiteful.

Perhaps it is my tone, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he remains silent as I finally pick a book, "The Boon of the Steel", a crude block which would do me good if it is about fencing. Although, much like the rest of the library, I assume it doesn't.

I sit, he sits, I open the book, he waits. No longer do I feel humiliated to be naked or for him to be naked at my side. But there's still an eerie sensation, and my eyes wander on the pages.

"How was the army? From what I have heard, the conditions there are awful. You are lucky Mallox picked you," I mumble, trying to make him open up but without knowing why.

"It was good. I had fellow soldiers with me, our Lord guided us in battle. And each run in the frontline was another way to prove my fealty to them."

"Were you not afraid?" I prod again, trying to read the terrible handwriting the scribe left in his copy.

"Afraid? Not really. My purpose was to kill for the Empire, enslave those who do not follow our precepts, and die to protect our lords."

God, why can't I read?

"But... Were you not afraid for yourself? Or someone? Do you have someone you've ever cared for? Loved?"

"Loved?" he asks, surprised.

"Someone you cherish, you want to have at your side and would hurt like hell if that person is away or dead. Perhaps like a Heifer you loved?"

"... I think... I love my lord. Nothing more could bring me more happiness. I love them. And I would be hurting if they were dead."

"No! Not like that!" I cry, then sigh. "A friend! You never saw a friend with the fellow bull? Have you ever had a friend?"

"A friend?" he asks, so innocently. Why?

"It's... Someone you care for. Like someone you share interests and passions with but who is on an equal footing as you. Someone who makes you happy? Or someone you can be happy for their success? With whom you share your fears, your woes, anything..."

"I don't think I ever had one."

"You never shared any kinship? Any relationship with someone?"

"Hmm... Perhaps one."

Slowly, I peel my eyes off the pages but dare not to look at the bull. Hence, I look away.

"You do have someone that could have been a friend?"

"Oh, yes. I knew someone like that! I think... He was a good... Friend. He was another bull in the plantation, just like me! We shared meals. We talked for hours about how we could serve the Empire."

"What happened to him?" I ask, trembling.

"One day, a Lord came into the plantation for new boots. I was so happy his hide was used that day!"

I gurgle, saliva and more backing in my throat. My heart pounds. My legs are restless. What do I do here? Why am I here? Why am I bearing this collar?

I tug at it, feeling its heavy weight on my neck. Why? Please, I need to take it off!

"Sir?"

"STAY AWAY!"

I shout, my voice resonating in the study. I am on my hooves, in a precarious equilibrium. I cannot see that bull correctly. But he is frozen, he doesn't move.

And I run.

I dash to the door and fling it open, possibly damaging the hinges as I run in the dim corridor, stomping in the silenced estate. The doors are closed, the corridors silent, the slaves absent. No one is there to hinder my run. Outside, I see the night through the windows.

It is dark, it is night. There are guards... Bovines, hides, leathers, milk, flesh. I see them, their lanterns and blades. This is madness, they are mad, everyone is mad here. And me, I was mad to try to survive here.

I flee, I run, I pass the main door. The pebbles creak under my hoof, the cold air rushes to my face.

"I- I need... I need," my voice is a mumble. I can hear it, but it's so low, so much of a whisper. A whistling.

I have to flee, I have to live. I don't want to hear about hide and meat, and monsters, and lords. I-

"HUFF!"

I stumble, fumble, roll, fall.

All of my body hurts as I feel the pebbles dig into my fur and skin. I also scratched my knees, my legs.

"Halin?" I dare not to look, but I recognize the voice. Farai's voice. He's here. His brothers are here. I hear them all. I don't want to.

"Halin. It's alright, it's me." I hear as hands wrap around my shoulder. But I cannot see through my tears or hear more through my sniffings. I only feel the pain of my jaw throbbing and my eyes burning, my heart hammering my chest like a wardrum. I can't breathe. I don't know how to breathe anymore.

I don't want to die.

I don't want to die.

I don't want to die.

"I don't want to die... Please," I whimper, my voice hoarse anew. So hoarse, it couldn't pertain to me. And yet, it's mine that whimpers as my head lies on Farai's lap. His hand brushes my mane, strokes my ears.

My lungs are on fire. I can only think about them, filling and emptying, my mouth flooded with saliva.

"He is in shock. Give him time," I hear Bandile respond to a gruff but distant voice. I can't make out what is said. I... I gasp. Again. I forget. I have to think about breathing. I gasp again.

"New slaves always have a breakdown, give him time. I'm even surprised he only has it now," again Bandile, the eldest of the Zebras.

But Farai... Farai doesn't say a thing. He looks at me and tries to smile. His thighs- I gasp.

"Shhh, Halin. Follow my words," he says... So Calm. "Breathe. In... And out. In... And out. Good."

I follow his breath. Air in, air out. I breathe. I inhale, I exhale. But more than that, he speaks.

"In... And out. Sense the pebble against your back. In... And out. Sense my hand in your mane. In... And out. Feel the cold against your skin. Do you feel this?"

"Yes," I mumble. I feel grounded. More so than before. The voices of Bandile and Andile are distant, so is the Estate. Instead, I feel... me. Myself.

"You're doing well, Halin. It's alright. You're safe."

I gasp. I crumble. I whimper: "I'm... I'm not safe. I... I will die here. I will die. Mallox will kill me."

Yet, Farai's soothing voice is back, stroking my muzzle.

"Halin... Look at me. Am I dead?"

"No- But-"

"I follow my purpose. Therefore, I live," he says, passing a hand over my neck. "We are slaves and are to heed our master's orders. But it doesn't mean we will die or suffer. Servitude can be a way for us to thrive."

"But... if- If you can't, you will die," I mumble. I feel my heart in my throat, throbbing and hurting.

"We are no immortals. If death comes to take us, so be it. But I, my brothers, you... We will live long and happy until she comes for us."

I gulp again... My heartbeat is still there... My fear present... My frustration... Then, the Zebra's fingers rub my cheek.

"Halin. You are not alone, many new slaves are afraid at first. But Master Mallox is generous and understanding. He won't kill you. He is there to help us thrive."

"If you're so afraid, you can still speak with him," complete Andile, closer and almost leaning over me. He looks at me, then turns to the Estate: "I can't promise you'll find what you hope to see. But you'll find joy, purpose, and serenity in his words. Is this so terrible?"

I shake my head, unable to answer. No, it's... It's a good thing.

"But... I'm... So afraid."

I know how pitiful I look and sound, but Andile continues, closing his eyes.

"You won't know unless you do it. You don't have to believe us, but you shouldn't be ridden with fear. If you want to be certain, go to the second floor, first door left. Farai, Bandile is waiting for us."

With that, I hear Andile's hooves on the pebble and his departure. Leaving me with the youngest, who looks down at me. But he sighs.

"Halin. Stay with us, please," he says, lifting my shoulders until I am somehow sitting in the middle of the Garden. And he, too, disappears.

For a moment, I glance at the Garden's gateway leading to the outside world, protected by guards who wouldn't lift a finger against me.

Then back to the estate, where I am bound to. Even now, I feel the throb from the brand.

A throb that grows stronger as I ascend the stairs in the mansion, one step at a time, toward our Master's room. The gardens are way behind me. I only see the way Andile told me to follow. Even so, I can hardly contain the tremors shaking me while approaching the door he indicated.

It is closed, without any light behind it. Perhaps Mallox is gone, but I can still smell his perfume permeating from beneath the door. More so as I knock.

Nothin-

I hear it, a faint creaking noise of one window opening. Perhaps he's still there?

Carefully, I turn the knob and push the door open to see the large study, kept clean by a horde of servants. I spot the mahogany desk, the couches on the side. And the dressers... As well as the closet at the furthest edge. One open. One, despite solely lit by moonlight, welcomes a shadow.

I notice a twinkle, a reflection.

It's not the first time I've seen it. Not the first time I've seen such a situation.

"INTRUDER!" I go to shout, dashing inside the room by flinging the door open.

My hooves stomp on the wood, I inhale despite the sharp pain in my lungs.

"INT-!"

The sound stops in an instant. A hand is over my muzzle, gagging me and keeping further sounds from leaving it. A warm, furry hand followed by a weight over my chest.

My course stops, halted. I slip, lose, drop on my backside as I hear the door creak close behind me.

Finally, as my eyes settle for the faint light, I descry who's been in the room. A panther, sinewy with his night-black fur bristling with energy.

However, my inspection has stopped. I sense cold steel press against my throat, threatening to bite more harshly than any fang and teeth this man has.

And above us, looking down at me and this creature is Mallox.

His contemplative gaze looms over us.