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Impotence Written by Amethyst Mare for kchishol1970

Anyone watching the parade progress would have deemed it a success. Every Jahaliyan was on the streets or cheering from the windows, all craning their necks to see their Prince Ryoga and his two new wives, Princess Jasmine and Robin. Robin was being officially presented to the nation for the first time and, after hearing about her training success and spectacular performance concerning the wedding cake, they were eager to show their support of the unexpected bride. Streamers flew from the windows in a rainbow cacophony of colours, which unrolled down the bright walls, and citizens followed close upon the heels of the stately vehicle that Ryoga, Jasmine, Robin, the King and the Queen rode upon. It was a strange contraption with no wheels and hovered precisely two feet above the ground. It moved forward grandly from the magical attentions of several spell casters, the group of which included John and Lydra, who had their brows furrowed in concentration.

On Ryoga's left, Robin bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, fighting to remain as dignified as she was expected to be, although what she really wanted to do was vault down and hug every single Jahaliyan who was out on the street to support her. Jasmine kept her eyes downcast behind her royal blue veil, however, keeping her place on Ryoga's other side; the others had tried to persuade her to wear a lighter veil that day but to no avail. The wolf sighed and wagged her tail faintly, thinking that she had best not base her enjoyment on what pleasures Jasmine took, especially as her outfit was far more extravagant than Jasmine's robes: a delicate arrangement of gold body jewellery was draped in fine chains across her body, offset by rich, red rubies. She was a truly a sight to be seen and admired.

Robin was the first to see the assassin.

The brown-furred ferret could have been mistaken for any other Jahaliyan, but his frantic rush through the crowd towards the royal 'float' was suspicious, too suspicious. He wore a darker leather harness, not unlike what the everyday Jahaliyans and palace-goers would wear upon a daily basis - inconspicuous. Robin might even have taken him for a palace guard if he had not been shoving other furs so viciously, several furs tumbling to the ground with shrill cries and muttered curses. At his hip was a sheathed sword and, as he drew closer, he drew the shining, steel blade, flashing it promiscuously over his head. The Jahaliyans closest to him screamed.

"Guards!" Robin shouted, raising her voice over the crowd and drawing on a reserve of inner calm that only showed itself in times of crisis.

With the magicians preoccupied with steering the float, the nearest guards were the harem, which rose to the occasion, a flash of concern in the bunny Natasha's eyes. A hare jabbed his elbow into her stomach and she inhaled sharply, not breaking her stance as she calmly drew the crossbow from its leather strapping, the cool feel of the wood and metal solid and familiar in her paws. Panicked furs streamed around Natasha, a rock above the flood, and she breathed out slowly, levelling and aiming at the ferret scrambling on to the float. His sword caught the light of the glaring sun, his body dangling precariously above the throng for a crucial second: she loosed the bolt.

The bolt thudded into the ferrets back, emerging from his chest in a fountain of ruby red blood, garish against the pale stone of the street. He died with barely a grunt and the light faded from his eyes, the spiritless body falling heavily to the dusty road. Natasha breathed out slowly, her paws shaking very slightly but noticeably; it was clear that killing did not come easily to her.

"Escort to the designated location!" Sylvia snapped enigmatically, directing the harem to surround the small cluster of nervous but resolute royals. The palace guards stood at a short distance, maintaining a defensive circle that bristled with the glint of steel. "Now! Get moving!"

They could not say much under the circumstances but they had been well versed in escape and protective manoeuvres if anything untoward was to happen on the parade, although the harem had never suspected that they would face such danger so soon. It was all happening so fast, everything a blur of faces, voices, fear colouring their vision. That someone would dare to attack the crown in their homeland - so close to the palace itself! By some gem of foresight, the 'safe house', as it was typically called, was near and Sylvia thought that the harem and guards would be able to usher the royals into safety. She hoped they would be able to do it. But what if there was more than one assassin?

"Stay together!" Sylvia snarled, her leonine tail thwapping against her bare, tawny legs.

The harem maintained a tight formation, swiftly lifting the endangered furs off the vehicle and under what little cover was available. Like bullets they streaked along the side of the cobbled street, defending their flank from any further attack while they took advantage of the wall of houses, though many frightened furs cowered behind the sturdy walls. Not all of them knew where they were going, but those 'in-the-know' were spaced evenly throughout the group, subtly directing the others to the concealed trapdoor that would lead them below ground, to safety. A skilled assassin, however, could easily pick off those giving direction and render the cluster vulnerable to attack - this worried Sylvia. She was lucky that the second assassin had no such orders.

He was a muscular dog - a common mutt with no fine breeding or, for that matter, grooming - crouching upon a rooftop to raise a bow and arrow with cold calculation. Ryoga was his target as he fired the crimson feathered arrow, which zinged from the bow with a telltale twang. Pushing his wives aside (Jasmine stumbled and Robin tried to protect him), Ryoga braced himself and raised his sword in a futile, too late defence. The arrow was coming straight for him with no time to dodge! At the last moment Nell flung herself forward, deflecting the arrow with the flat of her sword, the sharp point hardly scoring a mark; without batting an eyelid, the wolfess held her position coolly, eyes narrowed as she adjusted her landing stance for better balance.

"Let's get moving," she murmured to the frazzled group, stepping back into position. "I don't like the feel of this."

"What about the dog?" Tina growled under her breath, watching the mutt who was calmly nocking another arrow to his small bow. "Someone with a ranged weapon - take him out!"

Though she did not want to be the perpetrator of a second death, even if just and in defence, Natasha slotted another bolt into her crossbow and fired as the assassin was preparing to loose his arrow. His arrow clattered to the rooftop and he clutched his shoulder, dragging the arrow from his flesh, although the attempt was useless as Natasha neatly drove another bolt into his throat. The dog toppled and gasped as the blood poured from the fatal wound, writhing and thrashing until the shine faded from his cold eyes. Natasha exhaled a breath that she did not know she had held as he fell still, his gurgling, dying gasps horrifyingly audible until life deserted his corpse.

"How many do you think there are?" Natasha asked quietly, loading her crossbow so that it was ready when needed, as she strongly suspected that it would be.

"We have to keep moving," Sylvia said tersely, deliberately leaving the bunny's question unanswered - it was not the time. "Keep going. We will all be safe when we reach the safe house. There are others awaiting us there. Move now."

Robin's breath came hard and fast, though she never seemed to have enough to quell the rasping in her lungs, which demanded excessive amounts of oxygen from her strained body. She growled at a passing bystander, certain that the trapdoor that she had been told about (but not known the location of) was almost within their grasp; she peeled her upper lip threateningly back from her teeth in a feral snarl. To her eyes, her husband was not doing a very good job of allowing her to protect him, constantly pulling her back and trying to place his body in front of hers, which completely defeated the point of what Robin was trying to do. A passing thought told her that he wouldn't be a very good husband if he wanted her dead, but she dismissed it out of paw.

Jessica was the first to reach the trapdoor and she unlocked it with the specially cut key, which she had concealed on the interior of her leather harness. Pulling it bodily open with both paws, she gestured frantically for the others to get inside as quickly as possible, knowing that they would be safe or, at least, hoping desperately that they would be safe. Robin pushed Jasmine down ahead of her into the dimly lit interior (were those oil lanterns?) and turned, her heart back flipping into her mouth at what she saw. No time for explanation, only action!

"Watch out!" Robin cried, leaping forward to grab Ryoga's arm, yanking him backwards - but she was not quick enough to avoid his grunt of pain.

On the cold, stone floor, a dart rattled and rolled, spinning once in a circle with something dark and deadly dripping from the tip. Swaying dizzyingly, Ryoga rubbed his arm and brought his paw away with a smear of blood, nausea rising in his gut. He heard little as he tumbled to the ground and then everything succumbed to darkness, the faint cries of his family and friends fading into nothingness.

*

"Ryoga... Ryoga?"

The voice seemed to come from very far away, as if the prince was hearing it from under the weight of a fathom or more of water, bearing down upon his head and eardrums with brutal force. He groaned and rolled his head from side to side, trying to strike upwards through the sludge, the tar that was coating him from head to toe, dragging him down and down...

"By gods, girl, give us space to work."

Somebody growled - it could only be Robin - and he moaned, the voices around him suddenly falling into an unnerving hush. He swam towards the surface and the pounding in his ears became more and more prominent, as if there was some fur diligently drumming upon his skull or eardrums, the beat relentless and fast-paced. His body ached as if he had been awake for days or, more pleasantly, been kindly trapped in the bedroom by a group of bold vixens, and somebody stroked his head gently, smoothing his fur flat in the direction of growth.

Open your eyes, he willed himself, blinking and twitching as bright light seared a line across his limited vision.

"What...what happened?" He mumbled groggily, trying to sit up; many pairs of paws pressed him gently back into the softness of a narrow bed.

"Easy now," the medical matron, one of the eldest and most experienced nurses that they had available at the palace, said softly. "Slow and steady. That's the best way. You've been through an ordeal and a half, my boy."

Merely grateful to be breathing, Ryoga allowed himself to be propped up with many clean, laundered pillows, his blurred vision slowly clearing so that his surroundings became clear. He was in a small, quiet room that seemed as if it was set away from the main bustle and commotion of the palace. His parents, Robin, Jasmine and John were around the bed along with the nurse who pursed her lips at him disapprovingly. Robin leaned anxiously over him prostate form, looking over what she could see of him while he was beneath the white, linen sheets, her expression critical and worried.

"What happened?" He asked again, tongue thick in his mouth.

Nobody answered him, but Jasmine folded her hands in front of her stomach, her eyes downcast. Shaking his head slowly, although it was more of a weary tilt from side to side, Ryoga wondered foggily why she was so upset. He was alive, was he not? Did she want him to be dead? So why did everyone look so forlorn? It was almost as if he had died.

"Come on now, what's wrong?" He said slowly, reaching his paw out to Robin, who was closest; she took it tightly in her own and held his paw to her chest, just above her heart. "I'm fine. Look at me, I'm fine."

"Ryoga..." His mother started, her eyes moist with tears and her cheek fur matted. "There was an assassination attempt on your life. Do you not remember?"

Assassin? Of course he remembered - how could he not? Shivering lightly, he was glad that his mother had noted that it was an attempt and nothing more; at least he could be fairly sure that he was still alive and not in some kind of waking dream or afterlife hell.

"Yes," his mind cleared a little of the fog. "I was scratched by a dart. But I'm here, nothing bad happened. Please don't cry, mother."

"It's not that," she swallowed, dabbing at her eyes and sitting gingerly upon the edge of the bed. "The dart... It was intended to cause death and you are very lucky to be here. It's just..." Her voice wavered and trailed off before she drew a deep breath, steadying herself. "The treatment to save your life... It had a side effect. Impotence."

*

There was not much that could be said to console a fur in Jahaliya that had just been told that he, or she, was unable to perform sexually. The poison from the dart made Ryoga sick and lethargic for days, hardly able to sit up straight without assistance; the most that the healers could do was keep him comfortable and well hydrated until the poison naturally worked its way out of his system. The wolf was short and snappish, quite unlike himself, for fourteen nights but everyone turning a blind eye as they believed that it was the pain affecting his mood. They were wrong.

Jasmine, most unusually, was the only one that had a vague knowledge of this kind of depression, having seen it once in her homeland. It was unfortunate that she could not impart more information to those tending to Ryoga, as she had been kept rather in the dark about the event when someone high up in the court had fallen prey to this chemically induced depression. However, in that fur's case, it had been the result of an experiment gone wrong and not an attempt at assassination. She did little more than cry and stay at Ryoga's side, ever aware that, impotent, he would be unable to produce a male heir for the throne through her body, the body of his first wife. Artificial insemination had too many pitfalls and dangers for the royal succession and a deep thread of guilt wrapped around her throat, reminding her constantly that she had failed in her duty as his wife. And so her tears fell silently behind her veil, black for mourning.

A prominent harness designer had requested an audience with Ryoga, but the event only served to highlight the extent of Ryoga's depression; medication could only heal a fur so much. The wolf huffed and glared through the whole experience and Jasmine, who refused to be removed from his side, stood with her eyes downcast, biting her bottom lip behind her veil. Her eyes betrayed the anguish behind the carefully formulated mask as Ryoga threw a paw in the air dismissively.

"What do I care? Is this really all you have?" He snapped at the designer when the splendid harness, adorned with sapphires and rubies in an intricate, rich pattern, was not to his liking, or as his mood swung to the south side. Everyone in the room stood stock still, startled by his outburst, which earned a disapproving but sympathetic look from his mother who had become devoted to his cause. "Take it away. Do what you want with it."

"As you wish, my lord," the designer murmured stiffly, greatly offended. "I am sorry that I disturbed you."

John cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at Jasmine, allowing Ryoga to storm from the room without a word as the designer gathered up his materials and flounced from the room, his assistant hurrying at his tail. Jasmine cast her eyes down and folded her paws neatly over her stomach, pressing the loose fabric in closer to her body.

"Were others that you saw in this state much the same as he?" John began awkwardly, stumbling over his words, which seemed to race out in the wrong order. Of course he was referring to the high-class furs - one or two, she was never quite sure how many had been afflicted - that Jasmine had encountered in this depression before.

"Not as bad," she said, her eyes unmoving from the perfectly tiled floor. "Never as bad."

John coughed into his paw and flinched as the others filtered from the room, the Queen saying little to the others. Tears streamed down her muzzle even if she did not utter a single sound and she shook off any paws that stroked her fur reassuringly. Following their lead, the pair slowly traipsed across the room that had suddenly seemed to have doubled in size, the exit stretching into the distance. Glancing at Jasmine from the corner of his eye, John felt a flash of sympathy for the jackal who had been tossed into a difficult situation, a tense, unflattering edge to her features. She was worried about her 'female' duties, duties that the wife to the prince or king would always, always have to fulfill.

"It could be a deal worse," he tried to comfort her, half-raising a paw to touch her shoulder soothingly before thinking better of the over-familiar action. "We are already looking into artificial insemination so that an heir may be secured for the throne. That would surely be one thing off his mind, and yours, although I know that he does not like to make a problem of it. It could be a lot worse."

Jasmine stilled and curled her paws into tight balls, reining in her emotion with all the strained control that she could muster.

"It could be worse - how could it be worse?" Jasmine snapped, turning a stony, unyielding glare on John. "There is no heir to the throne. None. Any 'methods' you may put forth would cause complications regarding the legitimacy of any heir that may be produced. You know this already, so what are your words to me? This alone is my fault."

"I...I'm sorry, Jasmine, I didn't think..." John stammered. "Wait!"

But she was gone, stalking out the ball room door at a brisk clip, managing to retain a dignified air even as her cheeks dampened with tears. She could only hold them back for so long. John started after her but paused when a cool, black paw clutched his arm firmly.

"Leave her be, John," Lydra said softly, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. "She will not listen."

"I have to apologise," John mumbled, tugging his arm free; Lydra growled warningly and shook her head.

"Leave her be," Lydra repeated. "We have more to think about and I'd wager that the Princess is retiring to her private quarters. Robin's there and she'll look after her. God knows they're both in similar positions. Like minds and all that entails," Lydra gave a tired smile, half-shrugging her shoulders.

In step, they turned to walk down the corridor - life in the palace was continuing as normal, or as normal as it could be with a depressed prince traipsing the hallways. However, there was much talk, too much for anyone to forget the danger.

"Who do you think organised this attack?" John asked as they walked; it had, of course, been a topic of great speculation once Ryoga's life had been assured. Lydra sighed and spread her paws wide.

"Who knows?" She said evasively. "All we know so far is that it was a professional and organised assassination attempt; this wasn't some crazy fur on the street deciding that Ryoga had lived for long enough. Someone as skilled as the dart blower, not to mention the suicide attack pair, would only be bought by a fur with deep pockets."

"I heard..." John paused and lowered his voice as a servant hurried past, her arms piled high with linen. "I heard from the King that he suspects one particular land - I won't say which, not here - as the culprit of this attack. There is one Lady that has been dealing in aphrodisiacs derived from animals."

"Ah, yes," Lydra nodded, her eyes narrowing. "I know the one you are talking of. She's a piece of work. Upon occasion, she attempts to establish a trade route between herself and Jahaliya but, of course... Using animals for aphrodisiacs? Killing them solely for that quality within their bodies?" Lydra shuddered, the tremble running right through her body to the tip of her twitching tail. "I couldn't imagine the thought of it. She encroached here for a time before being duly sent back to her homeland. Quite rightly so, but she was most displeased."

John's whiskers twitched at this new scrap of information and he glanced over his shoulder to ensure that there were no eavesdroppers or lingering servants.

"What did she do when she, ah, encroached?" He asked delicately.

"Killed a great many rare animals for their parts before she was stopped," Lydra said bitterly. "She escaped before we could put her before the law and her own country refused to punish her, to spite us, I suspect. Now we can only punish those she sends in her stead."

Her gaze grew frosty and faraway as if she was recalling a particular event.

"And we do punish them."

Swallowing hard, John could not help but imagine all the horrible ways that a fur could be punished for their crimes. He was certain that the moral Jahaliyans would not do anything torturous, although he doubted that any of the poachers enjoyed their capture and punishment in the slightest. He had overheard casual talk of the harem being sent on a poaching patrol, which sounded reasonable when he considered the severity and extent of the problem; he had wondered why such a skilled group would have been needed for poachers.

"Do you think there is anything that we can do for Ryoga?" John awkwardly changed the topic, much to the panther's relief as she did not enjoy lingering upon such topics. She tilted her muzzle thoughtfully and raised her paw so that it lay horizontally in midair, suggesting that there was something, a little something.

"I have the dream of an idea."

*

"Princess Jasmine and...ah...Robin?" Lydra tapped on the door to her quarters with a claw tip, surprised to see the jackal with her refined muzzle on Robin's shoulder. The ladies looked up as one, though did not shift from their intimate position, Robin with a comforting arm snug around Jasmine's waist and Sapphire seated nearby. John peered over the panther's shoulder, his whiskers twitching excitedly.

"What is it?" Robin said disinterestedly, the calm in her voice forced as if she was holding something back. "Is something wrong with Ryoga?"

"No, no, Ryoga is fine," Lydra reassured her. "But there is someone that you, both of you, must meet with immediately. No time to explain."

"Then we will dress -"

"No," Lydra cut across Robin, surprised the wolf who had half-risen from the low seat with Jasmine. "No, formality is not required now, this is too important. Come."

"As you wish," Jasmine said stiffly, turning to Sapphire with a beckoning paw that Saph, of course, could not see, but her tone was unmistakable. "Let us go with them."

The small group of furs hurried down the corridor, standard cloaks and Jasmine's heavy dress drawn tight around their bodies against a light nip in the air. Lydra was secluded and refused to impart a scrap more information, directing them along the side corridors until the exited into the cool evening air via a servant's door. The wives huddled close together for warmth, Princess Jasmine strangely wishing to be much closer to another female fur than usual, and blinked at a small tent that had been erected outside, constructed from plain, orange canvas.

"Miss Lydra," Jasmine struggled to maintain her composure, her back stiff and held rigid. "What is the meaning of towing us out into the cold? Is this something concerning Prince Ryoga? Tell us right now what is happening - is he worse?"

"No, no," Lydra said soothingly, brushing aside the tent flap and motioning for the small group to enter ahead of her. "Please, all will be explained very shortly."

Ignoring Jasmine's frosty look (or what part of her glare that could be discerned from under the dark veil), Lydra ducked into the tent and darted to the head of the group, her eyes alight with...what exactly, John wondered? He had never seen the panther so worked up and so openly secretive, despite the contradiction. The tent was 'furnished' in a minimalistic fashion with only the absolute essentials gracing the pale walls, which reminded one of that particular shade brought forth by a glorious sunset. A woven grass sleeping pallet was rolled up neatly in a back corner with a small pile of coarse looking blankets stacked on top. It took John several glances around the confined space until he noticed the figure kneeling in the shadows at the rear of the structure, head lowered as if deep in thought. Edging curiously closer, he supposed that she - for she was certainly female by the way the clothes draped and caressed her shape - was some kind of canine with tawny fur and narrow, little ears that were pointed sharply upright. Whoever she was, she made no indication that she had any knowledge that anybody had entered her tent.

"Oracle," Lydra murmured, bowing respectfully a few feet away from the kneeling figure.

Oracle?

"Oracle," Lydra went on, unfazed by how the canine stared unblinkingly at her knees, paw relaxed on her thighs. "Oracle, we are in need of your guidance. We have asked you to come today because - "

"I know why you are here, Lydra," the Oracle replied slowly, rolling Lydra's name off her tongue as if she was tasting something foreign and exotic. "You do not need to explain to one such as me."

Caught off-guard, Lydra hesitated and glanced from side to side as if she was suddenly and unexpectedly unsure of how to proceed. The Oracle did little more than raise her head and survey the group, her expression showing neither interest nor disinterest. John had the flashing thought that it was all the same to her.

"Well, I don't know why we're here, so we could use an explanation even if you are clued in," Robin piped up.

The Oracle laughed, the sound rasping out of her blunt, wrinkled muzzle; she had many years upon her shoulders.

"You have come to seek a cure for the prince Ryoga," she nodded her muzzle at Robin. "You have come to seek my wisdom in this matter. But only one is able to help you."

"Who? Who can help us?" Jasmine seized this scrap of information desperately and half-lunged forward before remembering herself. Again, the Oracle laughed gratingly.

"The Goddess and no other, young one."

Jasmine gasped and her paws slipped beneath the veil to press over her lips, muffling the sound in its last breath. The rest of the group, new citizens of Jahaliya who were not privy to the might of the Goddess yet, shook their heads in dismay, wondering how on earth such a deity was to help them. If she was going to help, would she not have done so already? Only Robin pricked up her ears a fraction more, recalling the strange, unearthly force from the bakery chambers - the secluded, so rarely used chamber where she had performed the ritual with the wedding cake. There had been something or someone there watching her intimately. Seeing disbelief on John's face and near contempt mixed with longing in Jasmine's eyes, Robin locked her gaze with the Oracle's. Whether they believed that their deity was able to assist them in this time of crisis or not, the two of them and Lydra knew the truth.

"The Goddess," the Oracle continued as if she had not paused at all, "is willing to help. If, and only if, a sacrifice is made."

"Sacrifice?" Jasmine repeated suspiciously. "What manner of sacrifice?"

"Her," the Oracle extended one bony finger towards a fur at the back of the group. One who blinked uncomprehendingly behind a soft, white sash that covered her eyes.

"Sapphire?" Jasmine hissed between her teeth. "What do you want with my servant? A sacrifice? You are a fool if you think that you can take Sapphire away."

"Not a blood sacrifice," the Oracle coughed. "But a sacrifice must be made. And it must be her... Sapphire. The blinded servant."

Jasmine bit down on her lower lip, infuriated at the Oracle's implication. Sapphire had not been blind from birth - how would she ever have been chosen to serve royalty if she had not had some view and knowledge of the world? All servants of the ladies in her country were made to be so that they could not see, but that was simply how things were there. Every servant knew the possibility of losing their sight and they considered it an honour to serve. Yet the Oracle had said 'blinded' and not 'blind'. The subtle difference stirred something inside Jasmine, although she brushed it aside, her gaze becoming fierce.

"Sapphire?" Robin said quietly, calling the servant forward as Jasmine remained mute. Stunned, Saph did as she was bid. "Are you willing to go through with this? You will not be harmed. She won't be harmed, will she?" She asked of the Oracle for confirmation, which was much needed.

"No harm will come to her," the Oracle intoned seriously. "You have my word."

"But if it will not involve harm..." The wolfess broke in, grappling with the concept. "How will the sacrifice work? Is it simply about pleasing the Goddess."

The Oracle nodded, gesturing with her paw for them to come closer.

"You must create a swell of energy," she whispered, forcing them to lean in closer to grasp her words from the air. "All must be involved. The harem of Ryoga. Their matron, Sylvia the lioneses. You, advisor to Ryoga. Lydra. The teacher, Horace. Sapphire as the sacrifice. It is vital that every fur mentioned plays their part and plays it well. It is your sole opportunity to save Ryoga from what has become his life."

"Excuse me? But what am I expected to do now? I heard my name."

Heads turned as Sylvia ducked into the tent with Horace at her side, the bear appearing comically large under the canvas. The Oracle ignored her presence and Sylvia's eyes narrowed marginally, although she stepped closer to the group.

"I was bid to come," she hissed under her breath to Lydra.

"Yes, you were," Lydra murmured. "We are fighting to bring Ryoga back - the harem and you are part of the Oracle's plan, as I suspected."

"Us? Why?"

"Shush! Listen."

The Oracle continued as if there had been no interruption at all.

"All must work with these males," she indicated John and Horace, the younger of which jumped, startled, "to create this energy. This energy is both necessary to heal Ryoga's pain and to reignite his lust. This energy must peak before it will be deemed pleasing to the Goddess. You cannot fail."

"But how is this to be done?" Sylvia cut in, earning a flicker of disapproval from the Oracle's steady gaze. "I understand the energy but...what form should it take? Will preparations need to be made?"

The Oracle sighed and Lydra hid a tight smile behind her paw, although Sylvia was not to know.

"Ryoga must witness those closest to him living out their deepest sexual fantasies," Lydra explained gently, glancing to the Oracle for confirmation. "Normal sexual energy will not be great enough to please the Goddess this time - it must be something on another level, something spectacular. It should take place in the illusion cave as we can manipulate it at will to create whatever scenario John and Horace desire, as it is their fantasies that the Goddess has chosen."

"So...it will be like a 'magic fuck show'?" Sylvia said slowly, comprehending at last. "But none of the harem will be hurt. I will not allow that under any circumstances."

"No, no, no one will be hurt, Sylvia," Lydra swallowed, her tail twitching. "Only healed, we will hope."

"Then, speaking for the harem, we will do everything within our power to help," Sylvia said firmly, clenching her fingers into a tight, determined fist.

Lowering her head, Jasmine stepped back and away from the group. Sexual energy? How could she ever participate in something of that nature? She did not have the stomach to even mate with her own husband. Even Sapphire had more of a part to play than her - the Oracle had not mentioned her name in the list of those closest to Ryoga, the ones who would save him from depression and impotency. And what was she, his first wife, to do? The others, caught up in the hope that Ryoga would be healed and a door closed on this dark period, did not notice Jasmine slip out beneath the tent flap.

"Now," the Oracle smiled toothily. "The chosen males. Come closer. Tell us what fantasies will be played out for Ryoga's salvation?"

*

John shivered as they approached the illusion cave. 'They' being Sylvia, Horace, the harem, Sapphire, Lydra, Robin, the Oracle, a very reluctant Ryoga and himself. Jasmine, predictably, had opted out of the arrangement and had in fact not been seen since the meeting in the tent of the Oracle. But John had more immediate things to think about, although he felt a shiver of guilt at leaving the princess to roam or hide within the castle alone, most likely distraught. Why, she did not even have Saph with her. Yet the cave loomed before him, a chill in the air that made his whiskers quiver, he swallowed, following Lydra's confident lead.

The cave was unexpectedly empty, something that surprised John after Horace and he had been respectively cajoled into revealing two of their most intimate, secretive fantasies. His cheeks had burned after that session, even if the Oracle had proven to have a kinder side than was immediately obvious, and yet he found it peculiar that the illusion cave was not already projecting the fantasy world that the pair had agreed upon. Instead there was a granite altar close to the entrance of the cave with a broad, flat section suitable for a fur to be placed. John shook gently: that was where Sapphire would kneel.

As if she was privy to his thoughts, the Oracle glanced in his direction and nodded, gripping Sapphire's arm tightly, limping to the altar.

"Here, girl," she said gently, pressing down upon Saph's shoulder. "Kneel here. You will be quite well, I assure you."

"I will do what is necessary," Sapphire said very quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her whole body was rigid with tension and it took all the self-control she had to not jerk her head up warily to watch for danger. Her only knowledge of a sacrifice was something that involved pain, as her blindness attested to.

The remainder of the group huddled together to watch, although Ryoga huffed dispassionately as if he was thoroughly bored with proceedings; if he was not corralled in by John, Lydra and Horace, they suspected that he would have stalked out of the cave and declared his presence a waste of time. Ignoring the prince, the Oracle stepped up to Sapphire and bowed her head forward, swaying unsteadily on her old, tired legs.

"What's going to - "

Whichever member of the harem that spoke was shushed - all eyes were riveted to the scene before them. Robin's hackles prickled with that odd sensation that something was there and she instinctively shot a glance skywards, although she was merely greeted with the sight of the stone ceiling far above, dripping moisture. Could the others feel it? She thought not. Robin smiled as if she was welcoming back an old friend and watched as the Oracle lifted her creased muzzle, the only other who felt the same. The Goddess was upon them.

Sapphire froze, her scalp prickling as if grazed by the prongs of a comb drawn too roughly through her short, light hair, hardly discernable from the colour of her fur. The Oracle tugged the scrap of fabric that covered Sapphire's eyes, loosening the tight knot until it could be pulled free and cast aside, apparently unneeded. Resting her cool hands upon the blind canine's head, the Oracle breathed slowly and deeply, channelling something that darted around the edges of her mortal comprehension. Sapphire moaned and fought off a wave of nausea, the prickling traversing a hidden path behind her eyes. Robin leaned forward, captivated, and watched as Saph blinked once, twice and jumped in shock.

She saw.

Blinking rapidly through a watery view, Sapphire swung her head heavily about, unused as she was to the notion of having to turn her head for more than hearing more clearly what another fur had to say. The dim light of the natural cave stung the rejuvenated nerves and she clasped her paws to her chest - was this some kind of cruel trick of their goddess? How would being granted sight be any kind of sacrifice? Theirs was a strange world if this was all there was to it.

"This..." The oracle hissed between her teeth, raising her hands high above her head. "This is the sacrifice. She sacrifices the darkness and the ignorance of the world - sacrifices to experience the life she should have led."

"And thus a wrong is righted," the Oracle added, struck by a stray thought. "Here, girl, take this instead of that old cloth. Wind it over your eyes so that you are not blinded a second time."

She handed a roll of clean, white gauze to Sapphire; when rolled, it was translucent and would allow her to partially see without the light harming her eyes. After all, it went without saying that she would need time to become accustomed. Still in a state of shock, Saph stared at the bandage dumbly until Robin stepped forward with unsteady paws to wind it carefully around the kneeling fur's head. When the protective material was securely in place and tied in such a way that Sapphire could unravel a strip or two as she felt more comfortable, Robin embraced the older canine in a warm hug. She only wished that Jasmine could be there to see Sapphire relieved of this ailment.

"The first stage is complete," the Oracle proclaimed, somewhat unnecessarily, thought Robin. "Take the prince and..." She paused, waving her paw to 'tap' into the magic of the illusion cave and calling forth a plump, white mattress, strange in the comparative emptiness. "...Rest yourselves on this. Your part in this has only now begun, Sapphire. Watch and learn now."

"Thank you," Sapphire whispered hoarsely, allowing herself to be gently tugged upright by Robin.

Guiding Saph to the mattress, Robin sat her down on the edge, which was high enough to function as a comfortable seat. The older canine was trembling and her tail lay flat against her leg where it would normally be perked up and even faintly wagging as she went about her daily business.

"My eyes still hurt," Sapphire murmured, her eyes flickering beneath the gauze; Robin patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"I think you need time to get used to the light and, well, seeing again," the wolf said soothingly. "Let us know if it gets worse, but I am confident that it will become easier from here. Trust me."

Nodding her acceptance, Sapphire set her shoulders and took a deep, steadying breath. Trusting her to her own devices, Robin touched Ryoga on his shoulder, flinching when he shook her off.

"Oh, what do you want now?" He growled, flattening his ears to his skull. "You're as bad as the other one, always bothering me."

"Jasmine doesn't bother you!" Robin snapped, temper flaring up even if she knew that it was not really his fault that he was behaving like a petulant, uncaring monster, in kind words. "Keep your muzzle closed and watch with Sapphire. Everything will be much better in a little while, please believe that. A little while longer."

He snorted and Robin bit her lower lip, turning tail without another word with tears making the corners of her eyes itch. She would not cry. Trying to distract herself, she looked to where the others were dividing up: John and Horace together, the harem in a cluster and Lydra standing on a small, circular platform that hovered quietly a foot above the ground.

"I'll 'referee', as you say," Lydra explained when Robin threw a questioning but polite glance her way. "I will ensure that all runs smoothly and we create enough energy for..."

She trailed off. The utterance did not truly warrant completion - everyone knew why they were there. The mattress and platform ascended smoothly with reluctant and eager furs on board, leaving only the Oracle to observe from the cave entrance and the harem to dart about, taking places that would allow the illusion to be formed with the greatest ease.

"And so, the healing begins," the Oracle whispered in a hushed tone as the illusion cave fell into darkness and the fantasy specific illusions, fuelled by the combined thoughts of John and Horace, began to take place.

A new land formed as the magic of the illusion cave wove their fantasies into reality. A castle stood on a cliff high above the village, staring sternly down upon the peasants and village-folk with a blank, unforgiving eye. The stones were worn away by the elements and coated in rich moss and lichen, but it was in a better state than the village, which consisted of decrepit cottages with slanting roofs and badly hung doors; only those belonging to the most well off were graced with dirty windows to keep out the bitterly cold wind.

Horace and John stood on the dirt road entering the village, blinking rapidly as they tried to take in everything at once. Horace rolled his shoulders, dressed as he was in elaborate silver armour that meshed together seamlessly, but left his crotch bare and, to a watching female's eye, inviting. John was similarly attired in a simpler version of the bear's armour with a metal plate over his crotch that suggested that it could be easily removed, if so desired: John wouldn't be left out of the fun if he had any say in the matter! Shivering from her position high up on the narrow platform, Lydra spoke loudly and clearly, her voice amplified so that it rang around the room like that of one narrating a film.

"The knight, Sir Fuckalot, and his squire, Yvain, reached the village after a wearying journey, a quest to discover glory and pleasure," she recited, half-closing her eyes and allowing the magic and their fantasies to guide her lips. "Their horses were long lost to beasts of the wilderness with Sir Fuckalot and his squire barely making it to this scant refuge alive. Alas, to their misfortune, the village appeared devoid of life and sustenance."

"Sir Fuckalot?" John smirked and jabbed Horace in the ribs.

"Don't laugh!" Horace hissed, although he was biting back a grin. "Lydra suggested it."

"She would."

"And why did you go with Yvain?" Horace muttered, more out of curiosity than in any attempt to 'get back' at John; the mouse shrugged, whiskers twitching.

"He was a brave knight from a story that stuck with me, though he had a lion and not a bear with him. Let's get going, we don't have all the time in the world for this."

Edging cautiously into the village itself, Horace hefted his shield bravely and called that whoever was hiding in the cottages should not be afraid. As if on cue, the harem girls peeked around corners of buildings and sagging doorframes, playing their parts as the frightened villagers; every single one of them was dressed from head to toe in a variety of period dresses and not an ankle was uncovered. Eventually deciding that these strange males were no threat to them, they returned to their business of the day, some struggling to mend the cottages and others toiling away in the scant fields, wiping sweat from their brows. Robin was amongst them and was trying to tend to a flock of geese that the illusion had conjured, scattering seed amongst them and squealing as they honked ill-temperedly at her, as geese are prone to do.

"This is terrible," John said lowly, acting as if he was horrified at the conditions these ladies were forced to work in. "Is there no protector up at the castle?

"We shall soon find out," Horace replied grimly.

It was a long trek up to the castle and John caught himself wondering more than once how on earth the entire illusion could be contained by the cave but he did not dwell on it too much. There was a putrid stench rising from the outer walls of the castle and the two furs had to pinch their noses in order to gain access without violently emptying the contents of their stomachs. The courtyard was enclosed by high, stone walls and directed visiting furs to the foreboding pair of wooden double doors that looked as if it would take at least two strong furs to force it open under normal circumstances. However, these were no normal circumstances and the two males quickly found that the entrance was impassable and no amount of shoving, heaving or groaning would shift the wood from its grime encrusted resting place, swollen with damp.

"This is hopeless!" John growled, kicking a stone across the courtyard. "How are we supposed to do anything if we can't even get in?"

Horace sighed, privately agreeing with John. It had been part of his fantasy to locate a secret entrance into the castle but...he had not realised quite how difficult finding it would be. He pushed half-heartedly at the door again, aware that no energy that would help Ryoga was being produced from this endeavour.

Come on... He thought desperately, scanning his gaze around the courtyard and absently tapping the rectangular stones that made up the wall. It must be here somewhere.

And as if it had been waiting for him, a whisper of a breeze tugged and rustled at a wall of ivy, deceptively thick. Smiling widely, Horace ran his paws through it and felt cool air in the space behind the plant instead of an unyielding wall.

"Through here," Horace said, lifting the leaves to one side to reveal the dark tunnel."This is the way we go."

"Damned tricks," John muttered, ducking into the low tunnel with a groan of disgust.

"On with you, squire!" Horace pretended to grumble, stumbling into the passage after the nimbler mouse. "Enough of your talk."

Ahead of him, John stifled a grin.

There was a little light from a flickering brazier at the end of the short, dank tunnel, which merely served to lead them into a darker, carpeted corridor that sloped steeply upwards. Horace took the lead and hushed John when he was about to speak, pointing silently to a faint but sure blue glow. Tripping over their feet in the dark (uneven ground was always more difficult to navigate even at the best of times), the pair padded as quietly as possible along the corridor, which curved gently the left, all the while approaching that alluring azure light. But when they reached the room from which the light was emanating from, John scarcely had opportunity to take note of a gleaming jewel hanging without support in the centre of an eloquently furnished space before the light cut out and plunged them into sharp darkness.

"I can't see anything!" John muttered, feeling his way along the wall. "What's going on? I didn't think of this, did you? Horace? Horace!"

"Hang on," Horace whispered, groping blindly forward with his arms outstretched. "I think... I've found something."

The lights clicked on and Horace blinked. Sylvia stood solemnly before him, her hair falling in a regal mane over her shoulders and glistening as if it had been carefully oiled. There were hulking shapes shifting in his peripheral vision, but he was more concerned with the statuesque beauty within arm's reach. Literally within arm's reach as, in the confusion of the dark, he had grabbed hold of her large breasts, her nipples pressing against the palms of his paws. Slightly abashed, he grinned like a boy that had been caught in a disallowed act and released her, his eyes following their gentle bounce. His sweet reprieve was short lived, however, as the dark shapes around John and him closed in, grunting like animals.

"Watch out!" John shouted, diving to the side as the first ogre charged forward, swinging a mace wildly.

Horace snapped back to reality and tumbled sideways, following John's lead and snatching his broad sword from its sheath. He deflected the next blow from the massive, wide-set ogre with gaps where yellowing teeth should have been and roared challengingly, charging into their midst and swinging his blade with skill that only comes with years of honing. One ogre fell to the ground, blood gushing from a wound in his stomach and vanished, then another and another, each falling to Horace's blade and John's crafty dagger. In a matter of heated minutes, only one brute remained, growling and snarling gibberish at Horace as he advanced, hefting an obscenely large, unwieldy sword in his left hand.

Horace set his stance and waited for the ogre to come to him, charging forward and shaking the floor. Time seemed to slow as adrenaline pumped through his veins and he breathed out sharply, letting the ogre's blade slide through the gap between his body and arm, trapping the flat of it there as he smote the beast in the heart. The creature crumbled to the floor and moaned out his life blood before disappearing like the rest, leaving only Sylvia cowering against the far wall, her eyes wide with fear. With no guards to defend her, she looked shockingly vulnerable but, then again, she was an excellent actress.

Roaring passionately, Horace dove at Sylvia and ripped open her skirt, tearing the unidentifiable top away from her body though her breasts were already exposed (had she been dressing herself when they had barged in?). Shrieking, the lioness fled from his groping paws and on to an open balcony adjacent to what seemed to be the entrance chamber to her private quarters in the castle. Holding back a chuckle - it wouldn't do for the illusion - Horace bounded after her with mock-ferocious growl, too focused on the glimpses of her tawny body to pay heed to the rich furnishings gracing the balcony. Sylvia dashed to the foot of a purple bulbous 'bed' that was piled high with dyed wool blankets and stopped dead, looking wildly from side to side as if she didn't know where to go next. There were no other exits from the balcony. Horace grabbed the lioness around the waist and thrust her muzzle down into the blankets while she strived not to wriggle in gleeful anticipation. Growling, Horace pressed her thrashing tail up and shoved his hard cock into her cunny, driving it in to the hilt as she mewed beneath his powerful form.

Mouth agape, John rushed to their side and removed Horace's plate armour piece by piece, something that he struggled with as Horace was constantly in motion, pounding Sylvia's pussy as if he had been denied orgasm for weeks and had had promiscuous females parading through his thoughts for months on end. The bear leaned down and nuzzled the back of Sylvia's neck through her mane of sex-tossed hair, nipping and licking at the exposed fur until she squealed with delight. His cock stroked her sensitive passage and she snaked her tail around his thigh, her muzzle lolling open in ecstasy.

"Ohhhh," she moaned lustfully, writhing and getting her paws under her chest to push back as Horace thrust forward. "More, more, please! Please - fuck me!"

Pulling out suddenly, the bear flipped Sylvia on to her back and tugged her legs up around his waist, sliding his cock into her pussy, which fit his member like a glove. She howled and clung on to him like a wildcat, reaching down between her spread thighs to rub her clit under she came with a gasp of delight, Horace giving a low rumble of pleasure.

"Ohh," she murmured softly, coming down from her high with a throaty purr.

"Your mighty strength and cock have freed me from oppression," she continued, slipping off her sleeping mattress to her knees in front of Horace, taking his bobbing cock in her paw. "However could I thank you for such a heroic deed?"

The bear knight had no words for that and only moaned, breathing heavily as Sylvia stroked his dick teasingly, licking her lips as if she wanted to swallow it whole - if he was lucky!

"But my vassals need to be cured too," she hissed, running her tongue up the underside of Horace's cock. "Will you cure them for me? They are held back, bound, sexually and those clothes they wear... They need to be healed, healed by you."

"Mm," Horace said, not in full control of his senses with a beautiful lioness lapping at his cock. "Perhaps I should stay here, with you, my lady, and my squire may have the honour of freeing your people from their chains?"

"Oh, yes..." She giggled lightly, looking up at the bear with wide, eager eyes. "But how will he be able to do it all alone?"

"I'll show you."

Horace rested his paw on Sylvia's head, encouraging her to take him into her mouth, which she did with relish. The lioness' cheeks bulged with the size of his cock and he thrust lightly into the back of her throat, Sylvia swallowing skilfully to take more of his cock. She sucked him with wild abandon and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing every drop of pre cum that dripped on to her tongue. Curling her pink tongue around his dick, she felt a flow of energy circling her, swelling as Horace's arousal escalated. When it rose to a crescendo and Horace erupted in Sylvia's muzzle, John was suddenly invigorated with magical energy. His cock rose to full mast without any physical stimulation and he tilted towards Sylvia, wishing desperately that he could be in Horace's position.

"Ah...there..." Horace groaned, watching as John's squire clothes fell away, disintegrating into nothingness as the magic of the illusion cave took effect. "Now he will have enough stamina to fuck them all for you, my queen!"

John danced from foot to foot, his mind awash with horny thoughts. He hardly heard what Horace said or the giggles of Sylvia as she licked a drop of cum off her muzzle. He raced to the edge of the balcony and vaulted over the edge, daringly scaling the swathe of vines to drop safely to the grass outside the perimeter of the castle walls. The outer grounds of the castle on this side of the wall were an expanse of trimmed and well-kept gardens, although none of the flowers were in bloom. From further down the pale, gravel path that he stood on echoed the sound of crunching footsteps - some fur was running towards him!

It was Jessica. She was in a strange sort of dress that allowed her to jog freely, but the vixen kept glancing back over her shoulder fearfully as if she was afraid that someone was following her. Her breath came in terrible, laboured gasps and she appeared dead of her feet. Perfect prey for a mouse.

Jessica screamed as John launched himself at her, tackling her at the waist and bringing her to the ground. She shrieked and tried to flee but the mouse was too quick for her, shredding her awkward dress down the back to expose her shapely rump, russet tail waving. His cock was still hard from the magic up on the balcony and he thrust roughly into her sex, revelling in her unbidden moan. On their sides with Jess' back pressing against John's chest, he lifted her upper leg high and drove into her pussy with jackhammer like thrusts, reducing the busty vixen to a quivering, panting mass. Her escape attempts swiftly ceased and she rocked her hips with his, moaning and crying out for more.

"Oh, oh!" She yelped, her pussy contracting and rippling around his cock as she came, Jessica screwing her eyes tightly shut and letting out a strangled howl. "Fuck me!"

John pushed his head over her shoulder and licked her cheek, his fingers digging into her thigh and breast where he held her close, hammering into her sopping cunny until he spurted his seed into her, his balls feeling as if they were replenishing their load even as he spent it. The fox in his arms squirmed and slipped away from him when she was filled, winking to John and casting away the remains for her odd garment to leave her fully naked. Then, with little more than a saucy grin and a wave, she continued her jog barefoot and naked, her breasts bouncing delightfully as she ran.

Scrambling to his feet, John darted through the bushes with his cock hard and dripping pre cum as if from a faucet. Up ahead was a large building that looked to be in better condition that those that he had passed earlier with Horace, dimmed lights and murmured conversation coming from within. The mouse peeked in one of the windows and took in the scene: a tea social of some kind was taken place with some of the harem, including Robin who was attired in a beautiful but concealing jet black dress. They made pleasant, light talk as they drank and nibbled on sweet cakes but their expressions were gloomy and their eyes downcast.

The glass window was unlatched.

John leaped in through the window, startling the girls so that several tea cups crashed to the carpet, the contents wasted. Some froze in their seats while Robin and Eleanor fled deeper into the house, yelling fearfully.

"Who are you?" Natasha shrieked, making as if to dash away. "Get out of here! This is my father's mansion! You have no right to be here!"

"Oh, I have every right to be here," John smirked, dragging her to him with a pawful of her dress.

She was in a strapless dress and the top curve of her breasts swelled above the top - a treat too tempting for John to resist. Ignoring Natasha's weak protests (if limply prodding at his chest could be called a protest), he yanked the top of her emerald dress down to expose her gorgeous, full breasts and thrust her down to her knees, the carpet providing some relief for her knees. Shaking her head vigorously, Natasha crawled away but was dragged back into place by John who could not keep a wide grin off his muzzle. Sliding his pink cock between her breasts, he squeezing the furry orbs around his length, licking his lips as her nipples hardened to show her own arousal.

"Oh, please don't," she groaned, though made no move to get away from him and her paw crept between her legs. "What are you doing to me?"

He didn't answer but bucked his hips, pushing the tip of his cock into her mouth, which gaped open in shock. She made a muffled noise of protest and jerked her head away but John pushed down on the back of her head between her long ears to make her suck. Though her head was bent at an awkward angle, Natasha moaned and began to suckle his slick cock greedily, allowing him to thrust between her bouncing breasts without obstruction as she was 'cured'. Vivaciously, she ripped her dress from her frame and knelt in the pool of fine material, one paw cupping and squeezing John's heavy balls.

John rudely pulled away from her and grabbed the next nearest girl, Nell, and pushed her muzzle down across their tea table, dishes and cakes flying in all directions. She mewed plaintively and kicked back but he pinned her down, gathered up her dress and drove his cock into her pussy, drawing out a yelp from her as she wriggled and thrashed. The feline snarled and arched her back, fighting John until he spent his load deep within her cunny, subduing her at last. Nell panted and yowled, thrusting her rump back as if begging for more, her dress gathered up around her hips. Glancing back, John noticed that the only other left in the room was Corsi who 'cowered' against the wall, peeking at the proceedings from between her fingers.

"Last one," John laughed lightly, leaving Nell on the table though she was joined by Natasha who kissed her passionately upon the lips.

Corsi slid down the wall to the floor, silently shaking her head and 'hoping' in the act that he would leave her be, would look elsewhere. The mouse was having none of that, however, and dragged her bodily upright, tearing her dress off like Natasha had rid herself of her own garment, admiring how the ripped fabric offered him access and tantalising glimpses simultaneously. Corsi whimpered, obviously play-acting, and cried out as John's cock slipped into her warm cunny, slick with her sexual juices. He moaned and pounded her against the wall so that she was forced to turn her muzzle to the side, half-watching him over her should as tremors of pleasure wracked her body.

Soon Corsi pushed back at John, verbally pleading for more and the mouse, in a flash of inspiration, grabbed a handful of her hair. Feeling her head dragged back, Corsi yelped and moaned loudly, her loud pants giving voice to her pleasure as he eyes half-closed in bliss. John lost it and drove her hips against the wall, emptying his seed into her tight pussy where it dripped out to stain her thighs, too much for the femfur to contain within her in such a position. Corsi groaned and whined through her own climax, rubbing her rear against John's crotch as he drew back, albeit reluctantly.

"Go play with the others," he teased her, slapping her rump playfully.

"Sure, we'll come back for you later," she giggled, blowing him a kiss as she bounded off to the other pair.

Where the heck are the other two? John thought as he chose a door at random and trotted through, in search of Robin and Tina. There can't have gone far... And, goddess, I have to fuck!

He raced through the mansion at breakneck speed, his arousal making it difficult for him not to retrace his footsteps. Finally, he scented the pair and crept stealthily into the bedroom where they were hiding, though not successfully.

"Do you think he will find us in hear?" Robin whispered, her voice hushed; she was curled up at the bottom of a walk-in wardrobe. Tina patted her shoulder soothingly and watched the door vigilantly.

"Don't worry, he's gone, I'm sure he's gone."

"No, I'm not!" John shouted as he leapt into view, his cock rising. "And you haven't escaped by far!"

"No! Go away!" Robin squealed while Tina grabbed and brandished a chair.

"Yeah, get away!" Tina snapped, her black and white fur bristling even if the scent of her arousal was too thick in the air to convince John that she was at all scared.

Taking this as a challenge, John wrestled the chair away from the skunk and threw her on to the bed, Robin shouting something incoherent. John sliced her dress down the front with the narrow handle of a silver comb, revealing her muscled body and going slack-jawed at the very sight of her. Taking advantage of his distraction, Tina brought her legs up in an attempt to kick the mouse away but was unsuccessful as John simply parted her legs and acquainted his cock with her pussy, spreading the tight female wide. Tina squirmed and fought his hold, delighting in the light restraint as Robin watched, her body tense but panting lightly in need.

"Oh no, Robin! Robin, help me!" Tina squeaked in mock-terror, her eyes bright.

Valiantly, Robin charged John and clawed at his back but he merely shook her off, turning his attention to her as Tina slid off the bed, her muzzle and tongue stroking his balls pleasantly as they churned with cum.

"What, you can't wait your turn?" He asked incredulously, jerking her skirts up around her waist. "Well then!"

Lifting Robin on to the hollow on the bed made by Tina's body, he slid into her cunny and pounded the wolfess ruthlessly, fucking her hard and fast just the way that he knew she liked it. He half-crawled on to the bed over her and raised her legs up around his waist, driving in at an angle that stroked her g-spot over and over again; Robin howled, catching his gaze with hers, which was smouldering with passion. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Robin forced him closer so that her muzzle was a hair's breadth from his rounded ear.

"This is fun, but if you ever think that you can really do this to us without consent, we'll smash your muzzle in and castrate you for good measure!" Robin whispered, only half-teasing.

"I, uh, understand!" John replied a little too quickly, which made Robin laugh as she enjoyed the fucking, pinning him on his back so that she could straddle his hips.

With Tina licking his balls and burying three fingers into her snatch, John held back from this orgasm and flipped Robin off the bed on to Tina. The pair giggled, unhurt in a tangle of limbs, and kissed passionately, rubbing their breasts together and finding their wet pussies. Wishing that he didn't have to search out another, John sighed and wondered if they would indulge him later. Hopeful, he leaped out the window to land lightly on the grass below the window, his feet dampened by dew.

A bell chimed some distance away, marking the hours, and John guessed correctly that it was coming from the little church that he had seen upon entering the village. Stretching his legs into a ground-covering lope, the path seemed to melt away before him and he was outside the church in no time; the bell had not even finished chiming the hour.

He opened the creaky, wooden door cautiously, peeking around the edge and holding back a laugh at what he saw. Jessica had not had enough the first time round and was kneeling at the altar dressed from head to toe in a nun's habit, not an inch of her delectable body uncovered, bar her muzzle and paws. She crossed herself and mumbled a prayer for the girls in the village, praying that they would be released from their oppression and suffering. It would happen sooner than she thought!

As quiet as, well... As quiet as a mouse, John tip-toed forward and knelt behind Jess, reaching around to fondle her breasts mid-prayer. The vixen paused in her mumbled prayer, rolling her shoulders in a futile attempt to get John to leave her alone but he was not to be dissuaded. Digging his fingers into the habit to grab a good handful, John wrenched his paws apart, smirking at the satisfying rip, the material giving up at the seams and falling into two halves, both parts hanging from Jessica's red shoulders. John angled her forward slightly as she moaned, rubbing his cock between her perfect ass cheeks and smearing pre cum and sperm into her shiny fur.

He could not bear to tease her for long, however, after cutting off his orgasm with Robin and Tina. With a passionate groan, he forced his cock into Jess and they fell forward, writhing and bucking on the cold, church floor with the altar rising above them sternly. Jessica yipped and ground back on his cock, taking him fully into her stretched cunny, only aiming for her second and hopefully not final orgasm of the day.

Sapphire, high up on the floating mattress that kept Ryoga and her out of John's way, paced to and fro, blinking rapidly and fighting to make her eyes adjust to the erotic sights. Something was building in the pit of her belly and she groaned, flattening herself on to the edge of the mattress and peering down, her tail wagging eagerly for something that she could not understand but wanted to know. She ears twitched her ears in all directions, trying to catch the sounds that she had grown so sensitive to and the needy canine moaned in response to the moans of the harem girls as they were fucked into orgasmic stupor.

Ryoga, who seemed to have partially regained his senses, looked down at his paws as if he was unfamiliar with them, staring around at the arousing scenes taking place: Horace on the balcony with Sylvia, John fucking the nun in the habit and the harem girls continuing their lesbian orgy at the tea social. Though his eyes were unfocused and bleary like one that had been raised from a deep slumber, his cock perked into life and became swollen for the first time since the assassination attempt. A lustful growl rose in his throat and the wolf bared his teeth in feral need, pent up after such a period of abstinence. He had to fuck! But all the girls were below and he could not jump from such a height (he did not know that the illusion cave was in effect).

He turned to the nearest female fur and pounced.

Sapphire barked in surprise when she was pressed into the mattress, though no uncomfortably so. She glanced up in mild confusion, wondering what had gotten into the prince, when she felt something hard poking against her thigh and stabbing forward randomly. Ryoga growled and flashed her a grin that she readily returned, scrambling up on to her paws and knees with her tail lifted in an open invitation. Who was Ryoga to refuse now? He sank his cock into her with a bitten back groan, digging his canines into his lower lip until he tasted a speck of blood. It just felt so good to do it again!

"He is cured!" Lydra cried out jubilantly and the participants below paused in their proceedings to cheer joyously, thrilled that the healing had worked and that they had their prince back, hopefully as he was before.

"But what was the sacrifice?" Tina yelled up, trying to push Robin's muzzle away from her soaked sex in the tea room.

"Sapphire's inhibitions," Lydra intoned softly, though every fur still heard her.

The fur in question panted and groaned in agreement, muscles trembling from climax, Ryoga pounding into her cunny like a wolf possessed. Saph wriggled and dropped her muzzle on to her folded arms, allowing Ryoga to fuck her as she pleased even as her orgasm sent pleasurable ripples up her spine.

"But wait!" Lydra soared over to the mattress, swaying on top of her platform. "Let me set them down, wait for just a moment, Ryoga!"

"All this time and you're asking me to wait?" Ryoga yelped in mock indignation, though he obligingly withdrew from Saph who moaned in disappointment.

"Yes, wait," she repeated with the hint of a giggle.

The floating platforms drifted gently to rest on the grass below and disappeared, leaving every fur that had been part of the healing to gather. The Oracle, who had watched the entirety, hobbled forward with a slight, secretive smile twitching at the corner of her lips. The castle and village wavered and slowly faded into a cacophony of mismatched colours and shapes under Lydra's direction, but Robin gasped as the scene reformed into that of a glorious throne room wrought from gold.

Lydra bowed respectfully and offered the seat of the throne to Ryoga, who took it a little unwillingly as his eyes were riveted to the naked and half-naked harem girls, who tittered girlishly. When he was seated and at ease, the harem formed a line in front of the raised throne, rearranging their torn garments to best frame their bodies, their muzzles and pussies dripping with a delicious mixture of sexual fluids just begging to be sampled by the prince. The wolf affected a nonchalant expression but his raging hard-on told a different tale.

"So, Ryoga..." Robin began slowly, arching her back to thrust out her breasts with torn, black tatters of silk draped over them. "Which of us turned you on the most? Are you back with us?"

Ryoga could not decide where to look and scanned up and down the sultry line while the girls posed and preened for him, their bodies aching for more despite their exertion. Natasha smoothed her ears back and batted her eyelashes, darkened with mascara, at the prince, sealing the deal as far as he was concerned. With a typical howl, Ryoga sprang for her, grabbing her breasts in two paws and at the same time pulling her back on to his cock. The bunny wriggled her hips, cotton tail bobbing, and moaned playfully, less proud to have been chosen as the winner and happier to see Ryoga acting as he should - like himself.

While Ryoga was otherwise occupied, the Queen and King entered the illusion cave, walking down the centre of the improvised throne room with their paws clasped tightly together, the Queen's right paw in the left paw of the beaming King. When the Queen saw Ryoga with his cock buried in Natasha's snatch, she shrieked with joy, clapping her paws together and barely withholding herself from racing forward in a most undignified manner. Instead they continued calmly and sedately towards Ryoga, only briefly embracing him so as not to disturb him while his sexual recovery was still in progress. The prince smiled happily, sharing in his parents joy, but didn't slow his rough fuck in the slightest - not that Natasha wanted him to stop. The royals gestured to the rest of the room and all that had gathered within.

"Thank you for your service to the crown," the Queen said gently with a tear trickling down her cheek. "We cannot thank all of you enough. And Horace and John," she turned to them solemnly. "Thank you for allowing your deepest fantasies to be played out to save Ryoga. There will be rewards for you to come."

"Come," the King said joyously, extending his arm towards Sapphire so that Horace and John didn't have a chance to stammer their thanks. "We must get you dressed like a proper Jahaliyan! There is much more to come for you! And welcome to our house for a second time."

"Thank you, sir," Saph said quietly, lowering her body fluidly to her knees and bowing her bandaged head. "Thank you for allowing my sight to be restored. I hope to be of service to Jasmine and the kingdom for the remainder of my life. Thank you, thank you."

*

"I'm glad to have you back," Robin almost purred, hugging Ryoga tightly around the waist even as they walked down the corridor to their rooms. Sapphire trailed behind, experimenting with unrolling a layer of gauze to allow her eyes to become more accustomed to the softer, late evening light.

"It's good to be back," Ryoga murmured, half in a daze as he leaned into Robin's arms. "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused when I was...out of it. I should never have said much of what I did say and for that I am deeply sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Robin started, pushing open the door to Ryoga's suite with her foot and stopping in her tracks when she saw Jasmine standing there, paws clasped before her.

Husband and wife stared at each other, neither knowing what to say or do. How should one act after surviving such an ordeal? Jasmine held her breath, undecided as to whether or not she should allow Ryoga to make the first move. Was he healed or not? They sounded happy.

"How...are you?" She asked cautiously, keeping her distance as if she was afraid that Ryoga would launch himself at her.

"Much better, my dear, thank you," Ryoga answered her warmly, opening his arms for her embrace. Hesitantly, she half-stepped forward and then looked away, clutching her upper body anxiously.

"Sorry?" Her eyes widened in shock. "But what for? I'm the one who should be sorry! Half this, this...mess was my fault."

"Your fault?" He shook his head vehemently, Robin and Sapphire joining him. "Never! Why would you even think that?"

"Half the problem was that you would not have had a heir," Jasmine answered, flattening her ears in an uncharacteristic fashion. "I'm very glad that you are yourself again. Now I must fulfill my duty."

With that, Jasmine raised both paws to the collar of her cream night robe and ripped it down the front, grunting with the effort it took to rend the fine, silky material. Ryoga's jaw dropped and, although he had spent the last few hours making good use of his regained virility, his cock hardened noticeably, his body eager for more. His eyes roved hungrily over Jasmine's buxom, curvaceous figure - how had she hidden that under her clothes? - and he whimpered quietly, closing his eyes as he knew that it was all for the wrong reasons. Jasmine gulped and met his eyes; deep in them, he could see fear burning in place of lust and, worst of all, resignation.

"Jasmine," he said, straining not to do anything. "I...I can't. Not now."

"But I - "

Swallowing his desire, Ryoga carefully paced forward and took Jasmine's paws in his to close her robe for her, holding her paws together at her midriff with the fabric in their joint grasp. Even with her body partially obscured, a good portion of her breasts was revealed and her shapely, feminine legs drew his eye lower and his cock harder. Jasmine shook her head and refused to clench her paws on the robe to hold it in place, raising her muzzle almost defiantly, though there was a glimmer of relief flickering within.

"My dear," he said gently, holding her torn robe closed for her. "Sex is not a duty that you must perform, nor a chore. To treat it as such would be an abomination. You should want to do it from nothing less than love and desire. Passion, my wife."

"But I can't do that!" She exclaimed, tearing herself away from Ryoga's paws and drawing the ripped fabric tighter around her body. "What if this happens again? What if you don't have a heir? You cannot risk that! It must be now!"

"Yes, yes," he said soothingly, trying to stroke her arm comfortingly though she jerked it away with a haughty expression. "I understand the risk all too well. But no one, especially me, wants you to be unhappy here. That is something more important than any heir."

Jasmine sat gingerly upon the edge of the bed, mulling this new information over. She could not recall the last time that somebody had brought her happiness into a decision. How absurd. What should it matter? He would not take her to bed without first seeing her happy, was that it? Very well then...

"Then I will conform," Jasmine said firmly as if there was to be no arguing in the matter. Ryoga, Robin and Sapphire, though she was but newly acquainted with the liberation of Jahaliya, sighed and shook their heads.

"No, no," Robin interjected, sitting beside Jasmine. "That's not it. You shouldn't feel bound to do it. You should feel free, when you are ready, that is. Free to be naked, lusty and, yes, fuck whoever you please. Free to do as you please within reason. No hanging from the drapes now, you got it?"

That startled a light, musical laugh from Jasmine and Ryoga embraced her warmly as Robin did the same, holding her close and warm between them. The canine stiffened and then relaxed into their gentle, comforting hold. It was kind of nice, really, to just be held and to feel safe.

"We will help," Robin murmured, her breath tickling Jasmine's ear. "Help you to find your lust and be happy on your own terms. You're not alone in this."

That does not sound reassuring.... She thought with a subconscious, wry smile. But it will not be too difficult to live with if they remain so, so...caring. Is that the word for it?

And, although she could not comprehend how furs that were capable of the most lewd, obscene acts could be so patient, kind and caring, she chose not to question it. Over Ryoga's shoulder, she could see Sapphire standing adorned with the Jahaliyans native harness dress and matching dark brown boots, appearing truly happy for the first since she had been in Jasmine's service. She positive beamed and nodded encouragingly to Jasmine, who was suddenly struck by the intense coppery colour of her eyes, showing through the gauze as she blinked and those long lashes dipped and rose. Jasmine closed her eyes and sighed.

At least one of us is comfortable here. Maybe I will be too, one day. Maybe.