FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nathan jolted awake in a cold sweat. His head pounded and his muscles ached furiously. He couldn't have passed out drunk in an alleyway the night before; the earth beneath him was soft, and grass, wet with dew, poked at the side of his face. He opened his eyes and looked around curiously. The young man found himself lying in an open field. The sun was just rising over some rolling hills to the east, painting the ominously overcast sky a vibrant rhapsody of pink and orange. The young man brushed a few wisps of long, black hair out of his eyes and shivered. It was still early autumn, so it wasn't very cold, but his body quivered with unease. As he forced himself to a sitting position his muscles painfully protested, as though he had spent the better part of the previous day in vigorous exercise.

Had he? Nathan couldn't recall. He glanced about nervously, chocolate-brown eyes darting side to side. He had no recollection of how he arrived where he was from the city slums. There was no sign of the bustling metropolis in any direction. No sign of anyone, in fact. Head throbbing, he swam through his memories, trying to figure out the last thing he could remember. The thoughts teasingly eluded him. He could recount his dreary day-to-day life, people he knew and places he'd been, but not the events that led up to his current predicament.

He painfully struggled to his feet and, dizzy, staggered. Checking his pockets, he found that he still had his wallet and keys, so he knew that he hadn't been mugged. Not that he had anything of value to take. He barely scraped by and was hardly a step above eating out of garbage bins after paying for a month's rent on his studio apartment.

He had his cellular phone as well, though it was dead and he hadn't been able to pay for service in weeks, so it wouldn't be of any use. He only kept it on himself out of habit. There was no one for him to call anyway. Life for him was terribly lonely. Always a shy introvert, Nathan was estranged from his family and didn't have many friends. While he could deal with living paycheck-to-paycheck and demeaning himself by earning his keep at dead-end jobs washing dishes or waiting tables, he was constantly depressed at the lack of anyone to just hold onto when things grew dark and ultimately to just let him know that he was actually wanted. His shoulders slumped at the knowledge that no one would even notice that he was gone to come find him save for whoever was cruel enough to transport him out into the middle of nowhere.

Nathan knew that he couldn't just stand in the field all morning. He had to work that evening and if he lost another job he'd be out of a place to live too. He needed to find his way back to the city quickly. Or at least to someone who could help him figure out just where he was. He chose a direction at random and began walking, marching on shaky legs, hoping he'd come across a highway or even an old dirt path leading up to a rural home.

The air was dead quiet. There was not a tree in sight, though sloping hills on either side of him blocked his view of the horizon. Nathan didn't even hear the chirping of birds. He was utterly isolated and alone, as though the landscape itself was holding up a mirror to how emotionally empty he felt. He couldn't even build up the necessary emotion to feel aggravated about his situation, he was only anxious, but otherwise just felt hollow.

He walked for several long moments. It couldn't have been more than 15 or 20 minutes, but each step was heavy and Nathan felt as though he had walked for hours on end before he heard an odd sound. It was an unusual clicking and snapping interlaced with intermittent, rusty creaks coming from over the hills behind him. It sounded like a rickety wagon, the kind that an old-style tractor might pull, but the raven-haired man heard no roar of an engine. Soon the noise was joined by a rhythmic thudding, a noise that even the urbanite young man could recognize as horse hooves in full gallop.

Nathan promptly spun, hoping he'd been noticed wandering aimlessly by someone, and ready to holler for aid. Up on the hill he saw a large wooden, cart drawn by a team of two horses. Though it was silhouetted at a fair distance against the early morning sky, he could see that it had some sort of cage affixed to it. Two imposing figures were bearing down toward him atop pair of swift mounts. Within seconds they were upon Nathan, circling around him at a distance of a couple yards, one traveling clockwise, the other counter to it.

The nervous man panicked as he glimpsed the figures up close. They appeared to be powerfully built humanoids, but their bodies were covered in sandy-brown fur with dark markings and their heads resembled those of oversized hyenas. The beings' clothes would better fit a renaissance faire than anywhere else; billowing white shirt sleeves marred with dirt stains were visible protruding from form-fitting thick-leather doublets, and leather trousers with holes in the rear to allow for tails to slip through.

The unleashed insane, cackling laughter as they trapped the frightened man between them, their cruel chortles somewhere between human laughter and dog-like barks.

"This one wanders free, brother," one taunted.

"He's pretty," said the other.

Their voices were low, almost guttural, and filled with dark humor and sinister implications.

"And healthy. Well-nourished," the first amended.

"And strangely dressed."

"A recent run-away from a lord's harem, perhaps?"

"Their loss is our gain, brother."

"A fine acquisition."

"No brandings?"

"Our lucky day."

The duo went back and forth rapidly, still circling about Nathan, making the young man dizzy. Nathan stood, petrified at the horrific creatures. He tried to stammer something, but it came out incoherent. Before he could collect his wits, one broke the circle and charged by, scooping him up in a muscular arm. He held the blade of a knife or dagger that he had procured quickly from somewhere unseen to his prisoner's throat menacingly, drawing a thin trickle of blood. Nathan dangled from the side of his captor's steed, feet inches from the ground as it speed by beneath him. Struggling would have surely caused severe injury or worse. At any rate, despite being fit and healthy, the young man was still in too much shock to adequately fight to free himself.

The anthropomorphic hyenas raced back up to the wagon, human captive in tow. They slowed to a trot as they neared the cart. Nathan could see that crisscrossed bands of tarnished iron formed a sizable cage over the horse-drawn vehicle. Inside were two destitute-looking people, a middle-aged woman and a somewhat younger man. Both were wearing nothing but thin shifts of threadbare cloth and were visibly dirty, as if they had bathed in months, if not longer. Both were covered in had numerous scars, some fresher than others. They were emaciated, as well. It had clearly been some times since they had eaten a full meal. The male looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of weeks either. His unkempt stubble was nearly enough to be considered a full beard.

The furry humanoid unceremoniously dropped his prisoner to the ground before dismounting. The pain of landing wracked Nathan's already limp and exhausted body. Hurt and quivering with fear and uncertainty, the young man stayed face down in the grass as the anthropomorphic creature stepped beside him and kicked him hard in the ribs, forcing him to roll onto his back. The beast was not wearing shoes of any sort. The lack of footwear did not make the kick hurt any less, however. His leg ended in an oversized paw, tipped with razor-like claws. They bit into Nathan's flesh and drew a bit of blood, staining his shirt.

He heard the rattling of chains and forced open his eyes to see the monster holding medieval-style shackles above him, with a menacing smirk.

"Lock yourself up, slave," the hyena snarled, letting the chains fall so they collided with Nathan's midriff. He winced and groaned as they winded him and bruising his torso.

Teeth gritted, the man looked about frantically, sure that he was trapped in a horrific nightmare.

"Now, slave!" His captor commanded. It raised its arm as if to threaten a strike if he failed to comply. Like his leg, this limb too ended in a clawed paw, albeit one that was elongated and dexterous, like a human hand.

Not wanting to be hurt again, Nathan readily did as asked. Skittishly, he fumbled with the locks, but eventually managed to clamp the manacles into place around his wrists and ankles. The metal binding bit into this flesh and weighed down his limbs. While he did this the other hyena was unlocking the cage on the back of the cart.

"Don't rough him up too much. We'll be at the market before noon and he'll fetch a finer price without marks," he commented as he pried open the gate of the cage by lifting a hefty beam. The forlorn humans inside didn't move. He barked and snarled at them, causing them to suddenly skitter back and prostrate themselves, somewhere between a bow and begging. Their heavy chains rattled as they moved.

"I won't hurt him anywhere that shows. Do you want a turn with this one before we get into town?" The one standing over the shackled Nathan inquired, licking its maw devilishly.

"I'm not like you, brother, I prefer females when I debase myself to mating with humans," came the terse reply. "They scream louder. And leave him be. We don't need him limping up to the auction block. We're barely on schedule as it is, anyway."

The first anthropomorphic creature reached down and roughly picked up Nathan by the collar of his shirt. The young man struggled to put his feet beneath himself so he would not choke as he was half-dragged to the cart and tossed inside like a sack of potatoes. The gate slammed shut with a clatter before it was barred once more, and the hyenas mounted back onto their steeds.

The cart lurched and started to roll forward, the team of horses following the lead of the strange brutes. It bounced and rocked uncomfortably as it moved. Nathan looked at the duo he was locked up with. They didn't even eye him curiously, merely keeping their defeated eyes cast downward.

"Where am I? What are those things? Who are you?" Nathan managed to stutter.

The middle-aged woman looked up at him vacantly and set her jaw, shaking her head ever so slightly before letting it drop once more.

"Keep it down back there; I'd like to ride in peace," one of the hyenas yelled.

The other guffawed callously.

Nathan, disheartened and not able to elicit a response from his fellow prisoners or wanting to raise the ire of his captors, slumped against a wall of the cart. He fretfully looked about. The landscape was still not one that he could recognize and he had no clue what manner of creatures that he had been abducted by. The cold grip of fear eventually settled into well of unease as nothing happened for a long while and the wagon rolled on in relative silence.

As the sun crawled high in the sky the air quickly warmed as the clouds dispersed and the sky cleared. With nothing to drink and no shade to speak of, Nathan grew hot and thirsty. He was smart enough not to ask for anything. Those who grabbed seem unlikely to sympathize with his plight and would probably offer him a bowl of piss or something equally disgusting to quench his thirst.

His confusion never waned as they traveled and the young man was not entirely certain that he was still sane.

Their wagon moved at a good clip, and over mere hours the lush hills below gave way to sparser patches of grass amidst fields of dirt. As the sun neared its zenith for the day, something boisterous in the distance caught Nathan's attention. It was the sound of a bustling street, a sound that he'd recognize anywhere, with countless voices mingling together in an incomprehensible cacophony. He raised his head and looked through the iron bars toward the din. His fellow captives didn't waste the energy. Ahead, on the horizon, the handsome man saw what appeared to be a city, though not the kind that he was used too. It seemed to be comprised mostly of one- and two-story structures of wood and gray stone, rather than steel and brick, broken by the occasional spire. Nathan saw that they were then on a wide dirt path with stretches of cobblestones here and there, heading directly toward the mysterious settlement.

Several yards away, both ahead of and behind their group, were other pockets of creatures travelling toward the city. It seemed that they too were strange half-man, half-beast hybrids. There were clothed, walking, talking anthropomorphic beings of all sorts; hunting cats, toads, tusked swine, even oversized avian. All were converging on the noisy metropolis. There were humans among them as well. Most were dressed far from modestly if they had any clothing at all and the greater majority of them were shackled, often times bearing heavy packs with their backs painfully bent and gaze cast downward. Quite a few had scarified markings that depicted insignias that Nathan was not familiar with, but assumed to be brands.

One thing was quite clear to the frightened man, however. Wherever he had ended up, people there were merely property. Slaves.

"You can't do this to us!" Nathan bravely exclaimed, grasping the warm, rusted iron in front of him. His lip quivered involuntarily as he attempted to don a mantle of courage.

The other human man in the wagon looked up at him suddenly with a horrified, pleading gaze, silently imploring him to cease his protests.

"Do you hear that, brother? A human presumes to tell a fur what he can and cannot do!" One hyena commented to the other who merely laughed heartily in response. The uncaring cackle sent a chill through Nathan's bones.

The one that laughed turned to look over his shoulder, grinning widely to show his gleaming fangs.

"Keep up talk like that, tailless one," he sneered, "and Lord Grant will find a fine master who will pay good money for a chance to break that haughty spirit of yours."

Nathan gulped as his nerve quickly waned, and settled back shakily.

Their cart slowed as it entered a queue of others who wished to pass through a large, wooden portal set into the 12-foot-tall stone wall that surrounded the city. The entrance was flanked by an anthropomorphic rat with a black coat on one side and an imposing bull on the other. Both carried wicked looking pole arms and wore polished breastplates crafted of bronze that to Nathan seemed reminiscent of those he'd seen in movies about gladiators or crusaders. The duo seemed to be taking a few minutes with each party entering to ask a few questions and look over what they brought with them.

Eventually the hyena brothers reached the front of the line. If the duo was impatient waiting in the heat, they didn't show it.

"More for the block," one of his captors commented, handing the rodent a slip of parchment with something scrawled across it. The powerfully built bull wandered around the cart and glared at Nathan and his fellow prisoners, before checking beneath the wagon, apparently looking for anything hidden.

"Three today," the first hyena said cheerfully.

"Good stock," added his sibling.

"You should buy one. Right, brother?"

"Yes, brother. A fine present for one's mate."

"A little help around the house, perhaps?"

"The female has little spirit."

"She is sure to be undervalued."

The hyenas rapidly spoke back and forth as they did when they captured Nathan, something he gathered that they did often. The rat's nose twitched as his beady eyes examined whatever form the slaver had handed to him.

"It says here that you were only authorized to deliver two today," the rodent commented with a cocked brow.

"We had only intended as such."

"But you see, sir..."

"We collected another along the way."

"Just this morning."

"He's no papers. No markings."

"By all inspection, unowned."

"And our current stock wouldn't have survived a return trip to have accurate papers drawn up."

"Not without food."

"And that is not something we care to provide, since the property is only in our possession for a very limited time."

"Our sincerest of apologies."

The bull, having completed his trip around the wagon and, finding no contraband, looked inquisitively to the rat. The rodent seemed in contemplation for a moment before motioning to his fellow guard. The hyenas' charm found purchase.

"Let them pass," the guard sighed.

The bull's massive muscles corded as he shoved open the heavy gate, revealing an energetic plaza. The slave traders gave synchronized bows with ostentatious flourishes as they snapped on their reigns with one paw. The horses pulled them inside. Seconds after entering the bovine pulled the portal shut so that the sentries could interview the next party seeking entry. The heavy thud of the gate closing reverberated through Nathan's frame.

The city was inhabited by what his abductors had earlier referred to as "furs." Many led around humans on chains or leashes as one would a pet. The terrified man saw a teenage girl striding quickly to keep up with her owner, a lavishly dressed, anthropomorphic gazelle, accidentally brush against some painted pottery on the edge of a wooden stall, knocking it over to shatter noisily against the flagstone of the square. The squirrel tending the small shop angrily cursed at the poor human. Without preamble the gazelle turned and raised a paw, smacking the girl so hard with the back of it that it knocked her from her feet. He glared down at her contemptuously as he kicked her in the stomach several times with excessive force. Seeing that the anthropomorphic gazelle's leg ended in a hoof, Nathan realized how much it must have hurt. His gut wrenched with each blow, nearly making him ill.

He wondered if such would be his life. Clearly, if these strange beings thrived while holding humans in bondage no one would come to rescue him. A day before his greatest concern was merely having no one to call his lover.

The gazelle procured some coins that Nathan couldn't make out from a distance from a drawstring purse at his belt and paid for the broken pottery before roughly pulling the sobbing human girl to her feet by her sun-bleached locks.

The wagon rounded a corner. Down a crowded lane ahead Nathan saw that it opened up to an even grander plaza. An intimidating wooden stage had been erected as its centerpiece, lined with a row cramped cages that were more akin to kennels for stray dogs than cells for prisoners. Some were already occupied by humans in various states of health and dress, though almost all favored poorly on both accounts. Nathan was able to make out that at least one unoccupied cage even held a couple of bowls on the floor containing water and an unidentifiable mush, providing nourishment in the most degrading fashion for its next resident. Near the miniature prisons was a humanoid owl with snowy feathers. He was wearing the gaudiest of clothing. Gold chains and jewels draped over every bit of him contrasting glaringly with equally fine, yet mismatched, silks. His ashen plumage was immaculately groomed, not marred by a single speck of dust. The avian creature gestured grandly as he spoke to a gathering of anthropomorphs that were dressed far more finely than any of the others milling about with an appendage that was a hybrid of an arm and a wing, occasionally nodding to some of the inhabited cages behind him.

For a brief instant, as their cart passed, Nathan and the owl locked gazes. The bird's eyes were impassive orbs of the brilliant red-orange. He furrowed his brow at the human and immediately went back to discussing matters with his colleagues.

The hyenas ushered their vehicle behind the platform where various other carts and wagons waited, and came to a sudden halt. Human slaves were being lined up, inspected, and sorted by a fastidious looking anthropomorphic badger. Occasionally the disinterested fur took a measurement with a marked length of twine or dictated a note to be jotted down by his young assistant, a weasel, that followed close behind, ink-dripping quill clutched in one paw, a scroll of vellum in the other. Every once in a while he motioned for one of the more elderly or frail humans to be dragged off. Nathan assumed they were deemed not fit to be auctioned as servants to the day's clientele.

Judging by the number already there, Nathan's group was the final one to arrive. His musings were broken as the bar over the cage door was suddenly pried open with a loud creak and a shirtless otter silently reached for his shirt collar. The hyenas leaned casually against the cart as the new fur easily tossed him to the ground out of the cart and then stepped inside to gather the two other humans who were already rising to prevent similar treatment from occurring to themselves. Hopping out, once the wagon was empty, the anthropomorphic being pulls the young man to his feet, and violently slams him against the timbers of the platform, in line with the other humans.

Nathan winced as his head collided with the wood and felt a painful bump forming on the back of his skull. He motioned to soothe it, but unexpectedly received a sharp jab to the stomach from the otter, who then leaned in close to the young man and huffed in his face as he was about to protest. The fur's foul breath assaulted him as he made it clear that he was not one to be crossed.

"Stand still, and keep your mouth shut, tailless," he said, once again using the term that Nathan had come to understand as a derogatory slur against humans. "You will be catalogued for the day's auction and then Lord Grant, the auctioneer, will come by and inspect you himself. No bad behavior shall be tolerated, though I invite you to try."

The otter cracked his knuckles threateningly. Nathan could see his toned muscles through his furry coat, and was not eager to press his luck. The creature tapped the hilt of a sword that was tucked into a sash around his waist for good measure. The blade had no sheath, and though it had obviously been recently polished and well cared for, numerous nicks and notches from heavy use were clearly visible along its length.

Nathan nodded and tried to put on stoic mask as the hyenas' other two captives lined up beside him.

The badger came by and raised an eyebrow at the young man's garb, glancing over to Nathan's abductors inquisitively. They looked back and shrugged, uncaring of its strangeness. The fur rudely grabbed the young man's limbs and turned them over. He pushed up his sleeves and looked for any overt markings. The creature was rough and terse, treating Nathan far more like an object to be appraised that a person. After a few more seemingly random inspections and measurements the weasel scribbled noisily and the pair moved on.

Around that time the conspicuous owl sauntered into view from the other side of the stage, followed by a small procession of lightly-armored wolves brandishing axes. He gazed over the perhaps two dozen human slaves and immediately and decidedly strode toward Nathan.

The bird stood within inches of him, glaring quietly. In his eyes Nathan could see his own reflection. The grandiose owl reached out and felt his clothes between white-feathered fingers, obviously noting the vast difference in color and style between his relatively clean and bright clothes compared with those of his fellow captives.

"Where," he chirped commandingly, "did you acquire...these!?"

Nathan swallowed. Something about the pompous avian absolutely horrified him. He licked his lips nervously before answering, not realizing just how dry his throat was from the prolonged journey until that moment.

"A shopping mall," he mumbled, shrinking back visibly.

The strike to his cheek came and went faster than he could register it. It stung. Nathan's face burned and he forced himself to turn back to look straight at the owl once more.

"A shopping mall? And what, pray tell, is a 'shopping mall?' Don't lie to me, slave. These are not the rags of your station. You will tell me who or where you stole this strange attire from."

"It's the truth. I bought them," he explained.

"Oh, you bought them did you!? You're both a thief and a liar, then!?" The owl exclaimed.

As Nathan continued to protest, one of the wolves near him clouted him solidly on the forehead with the haft of his weapon and followed quickly with a fur-covered fist to the eye as punishment, knocking him painfully to the ground. Dizzy, and with a faint trickle of blood running down his scalp from the blow, the prisoner struggled to stand once more. The owl pirouetted to screech furiously at the henchman who struck him, while Nathan rubbed his bruised face to soothe the ache and will himself to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

"You dare damage the property that has, in good confidence, been remitted to me!? You understand that my compensation for this slave's sale can be directly affected by its health and yet you are willing to harm it? Every coin that I receive on commission less than what I appraise this lot's value to be is going to be deducted directly from your pay to compensate me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir," the wolf nodded, tail curving submissively between his legs.

"Get all of this fresh stock into the cages, the bidders will be here to look over the new acquisitions shortly and I want every last one of those fit for sale on display," Lord Grant ordered imperiously.

The owl started to wander away, but paused to look over his shoulder, eying Nathan a final time. The cold stare brought a chill to the injured captive's bones.

"Make that one the centerpiece. It's going to fetch a high price, so I want it to be the focus of the auction," the avian sneered, before disappearing out of sight. The young man's hyena abductors glanced to one another at the statement and smiled gleefully at the proposition.

The various wolves urged Nathan and his fellow human slaves up to the cages on the raised platform by way of a rickety walkway behind it. The raven-haired curiosity that was Nathan was placed in the largest cage, thankfully one that he was able to stand in without resorting to stooping over. The slender bars holding him were made of polished, glistening steel. There was no way that he would be able to burst them, and given the watchful eye that the lupine guards seemed to have the host of prisoners under, it would be unlikely (at best) that he could make a clean escape, let alone have anywhere to go in the strange land.

From his degrading display case on the stage Nathan could see the entire plaza full of furs milling about. Within moments of being locked in his tiny cell, several species of anthropomorphic beings leisurely ambled up to take a look at him, examining him as one would fruit at a grocer. If he wasn't so frightened he would probably be embarrassed at the treatment. He hoped that if he was to be purchased he would not end up like the girl he saw in the street earlier, and winced at the thought that his aspirations had been so quickly lowered to such a thing. How anyone could treat a person so horribly was beyond him. It made him sick to his stomach to think about it, so the prisoner tried to keep his mind clear and distant, doing his best to ignore his predicament, but failing miserably. He wanted to break down and weep hysterically, but something stopped him.

Pride? Bravery? Acceptance?

It didn't matter.

An obese bear wearing a heavily stained tunic was the first to pause for a long period of time before his cell. Even from a few feet away Nathan could tell that he smelled absolutely rancid. As he wasn't dressed quite as well as the more noble-appearing furs that were about the young man wondered if the creature was merely window-shopping. He hoped so, as the anthropomorphic creature has a malign glint in his dark eyes that promised more than merely pain and degradation.

"Such a pretty thing," it rumbled in a gravelly voice, smirking mockingly. "You'd make a nice addition to my bedroom, tailless."

Nathan shuddered. He didn't know what wicked thoughts that the disgusting fur had in mind, but he was far from eager to find out. A strange sensation passed over him as he realized that he suddenly found himself wishing to be purchased by a more benevolent master. He shook the obscure thought from his head, not wanting to give into the mentality that the animalistic treatment seemed inclined to produce.

After the captive didn't respond, the bear moved on chuckling to itself as it absently rubbed its crotch.

A tawny-furred mouse wandered by next. He had a small, lithe frame, and was a good deal shorter than the other anthropomorphs.

"This one?" It asked, looking off to the side.

Nathan recognized the voice to be young, almost childish.

"You don't want that one," an older voice responded.

A second mouse, much taller but with a matching coat, stepped beside the first.

"Why?" The youth inquired.

"Because that one isn't going the kind of slave that cleans your room and brings you drinks."

"What kind of slave is it?"

The older fur bent down and whispered in his ear. The child giggled and Nathan saw its ears redden with what he could only assume was a blush.

"Out of the way!" A somewhat more feminine voice rudely ordered. A tigress dressed in finery with emeralds studding her ears and gold chains about her neck glared at the mice as she came into view, looking as though she was ready to maul them across the eyes if they failed to comply.

The hunting cat thrust an arm through the bars quickly and gripped Nathan's chin with great force, pulling him toward the front of the cage and inspecting him closely. He claws bit into his flesh and he grimaced. She turned his head side to side and lifted up his shirt to inspect his torso. Her sharp eyes obviously noted the telltale signs of his multiple recent injuries.

"Well built, but pale. Few callouses," she thought aloud. "Wouldn't last a day in the field. I don't need a new house slave, either. Consider yourself lucky."

She let go and gave him a curt shove backward before moving on, snobbishly wiping her paw on her robe after touching Nathan.

The next creature to step before his cell Nathan again heard before he saw; heavy thuds of hooves connecting with dry timbers. The fur that came before him was perhaps the strangest he had encountered thus far. It was a horse with a glorious chestnut coat and well kept mane of midnight black. He was heavily muscled and every contour of his physique was readily visible. Where all of the inhabitants he had viewed up to that point had a typical human concept of contextual modesty, and were more or less fully clothed, the anthropomorph wore naught but a long, sleeveless, scarlet robe and a simple belt bearing a silver adorned shortsword and its scabbard. It was left untied and his body was completely visible, including the massive phallus that hung low over a hefty sac, dappled a fleshy-pink and light-brown in color. Nathan couldn't help but stare at the large member. Though the creatures were obviously a mix of humanoid and animal characteristics the equine's penis obviously favored his bestial side, with a medial ring partway down the length and flaring flesh at the tip.

Actually, Nathan found himself admiring more than just the majestic phallus. He was strangely attracted to the horse. It was odd to call something so obviously not human handsome, but surely there was no other word that the young man could use to describe the chiseled form of the stallion.

His face was turned toward the recently departed tigress, and while the human had trouble reading the more subtle expressions of the alien anthropomorphic faces, he saw something undeniable in the horse's eyes; disdain. The immodest fur turned toward Nathan and his countenance softened. He crouched reached in through the bars far more gently than the tigress had and lightly cupped the side of the humans face, brushing Nathan's raven-black hair out of his eyes with a thumb. The young man let himself enjoy the sympathetic touch. It was the first act of compassion that he had been shown since waking up in that horrible place early that morning. The horse set his jaw upon seeing the pale human's various minor wounds.

"I like what I see. Yes; I think that you are the one," the horse said softly, voice barely above a whisper.

His smile comforted and reassured Nathan for some reason he couldn't quite explain, even to himself.

"I certainly can't let that wretched bear have you, can I?" He chuckles, leaning in close. His muzzle was within inches of Nathan's face. The human stood mesmerized during the exchange and felt his skin prickled with anticipation. The horse continued forth unabated and very lightly pressed his lips against Nathan's own. The young man melted at the contact and let his muscles relax for perhaps the first time that day. His jaw slackened and allowed the equine's entreating tongue to invade his mouth and dance with his own. He readily closed his eyes and allowed himself to appreciate the kiss as the horse explored his maw. The human felt his cock stiffen and press against his underwear as they shared the sensual moment. All too soon it ended and the stallion pulled away, endearing smile on his face.

As Nathan opened his eyes once more he saw that other furs watched the curious exchange silently. He didn't know if they judged the horse or not, but they didn't seem to openly speak a word about it, and it wouldn't affect him in any case.

Withdrawing his paw and donning an aloof expression once more, the chestnut equine stood to his full, imposing height once more.

"Not long, human, and you will be mine," he commented quietly before stepping away and out of sight of Nathan's cage.

Still digesting the strange kiss and caress Nathan was surprised to find that he wasn't repulsed at the thought of being owned by the fur. Breaking it down logically, he had every reason to be revolted by the idea of slavery, let alone to willing spending his life in servitude, and yet he couldn't bring himself to hate the idea of spending the rest of his days with the attractive horse. Sadly, their brief moment upon meeting was the most meaningful contact that Nathan had engaged in for several years.

The thought occurred to him that all he ever really longed for was for someone to share not only a bed with but a life with as well. Again he tried to put such romanticized notions aside. Despite the gentleness that he was shown he didn't know these creatures or their ways. For all he knew the horse could be utterly depraved, and he certainly didn't want to live the remainder of his life as someone's prisoner.

As he dwelt on his conflicting emotions, a variety of other furs passed to inspect him in a similar fashion to the others until he heard a familiar voice crow out above the murmur of crowd.

"Friends! Patrons! Now that you've all had a chance to see, and in some cases sample the wares," Lord Grant projected to the crowd, evoking a few playful chuckles, "I would ask you all to file into the auction house so that we may begin today's biddings. I am sure that our friends who've captured this fine stock are anxious to receive their compensation and be on their way to bring you another fine selection of humans in the very near future."

The plaza quickly emptied of well-dressed anthropomorphs who funneled into a nearby building, leaving only the day-to-day businesses and their regular patrons. And, of course, their human slaves.

The armed wolves made their way up to the wooden platform where Nathan and his fellow slaves were on display. They unlocked the kennels and with practiced paws shackled the humans neck-to-neck with lengths of heavy chain. Together they led the procession of disheartened slaves through a side entrance to the congested structure. Inside, the building looked to be a playhouse or amphitheater of some sort, and Nathan found himself backstage. His thick, iron collar was thankfully the first to be unlocked by a sneering porcupine. And he was goaded around a series of curtains until he was led up on stage were the confident Lord Gant stood, facing the crowd.

Nathan froze in place for a second, unsure what was expected of him. The stage was illuminated well by a series of braziers, slightly angled toward him, making him uncomfortably warm. The light sources being turned away from the crowd, Nathan could make out nothing of the audience save for indistinct shadows. The owl beckoned him forward, and the young man took a tentative step. He apparently took too long and was unceremoniously shoved by the spiked fur behind him until he stumbled out to the center and fell flat on his face in front of the avian. A brief titter of laughter washed over the assembled furs. He absently raised a hand to his lip, checking for blood and, as a minor comfort, found none. Nothing more was hurt than his already dwindling pride.

The avian auctioneer quickly snagged Nathan by his shirt collar and dragged him awkwardly to his feet. He gesticulated grandly and projected his voice toward the crowd.

"Our first lot up for auction is certainly an interesting sight," he cooed. "I know that I saw many of you stopping by its cage to examine its peculiarities. Behold its strange attire and pale, soft skin. Obviously it has never seen a day of hard labor and would make an excellent addition to any noble's harem."

Nathan found himself bristling slightly at the mention of never seeing hard work, for most of his adult life was spent doing menial labor. Yet when he thought to the abuse of humans that he had viewed by the monstrous anthropomorphs since entering the wretched city, he realized that anything he thought was difficult the day before was far from it. He gulped apprehensively.

"Guards," Lord Grant continued, "would be so kind as to strip this lot of its strange attire so that our patrons could get a better look at it? Careful not to damage the clothing, it comes with the piece."

Before the snowy owl even finished his sentence a few of the wolves that stood at attention nearby marched up to Nathan and held him firmly in place, one grabbing each arm while a third started to remove the young man's clothing; first by tugging his shirt over his head with the aid of its compatriots moving his arms, revealing Nathan's tone abdomen, then, after the wolf tossed the garment casually over its shoulder by pulling off his sneakers one at a time. Next, it fiddled with the captive's belt, and after prying that loose as well, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to slide them down and over his ankles while the duo holding his arms lifted him, leaving him blushing furiously as he momentarily stood in only his plain, low-rise, gray briefs and socks.

His embarrassment increased further as those were confiscated as well by the heartless furs. Nathan moved to cover himself once he was released by the creatures, but his hands were sternly slapped away and he was given a threatening glare by one of the wolves. Reluctantly standing still, naked on stage, the abashed prisoner watched the furs disappear into the inky darkness backstage with his clothing.

"Arms out, slave. Legs apart," Lord Grant commanded with a glare.

Though it was impossible to tell on account of the avian's short beak, Nathan got the distinct impression that the owl was smirking at humiliating him.

After Nathan reluctantly spread his limbs, the pompous bird reached over and fondled his human prisoner's genitals, rolling his testicles about in his palm. The man was too mortified and frightened for his future to be angry that someone so crass would touch him in such a manner.

"As you all can plainly see this lot is a male; all of the rarer when concerning bedroom-appropriate stock," Lord Grant said, obviously taking great pleasure in shaming his prisoner.

Nathan grimaced as he found the soft down of the owl's feather graze satisfyingly against his length, causing it to plump and stiffen involuntarily, something quite visible due to his great natural endowment. An interested murmur buzzed through the crowd. The avian auctioneer's eyes widened briefly in surprise and then narrowed maliciously as he noticed both his captive's physical reaction as well as the assembly's excitement. He caressed Nathan's genitals for wantonly to further arouse the man against his will.

Within seconds he was at his fully erect length of nearly 11 inches with considerable girth. The tip of his foreskin rolled back slightly over the mushroom-shaped glans of his penis. The owl firmly wrapped Nathan's phallus between a thumb and finger and stroked his member slowly, causing his cock to jump and spasm in pleasure. The fair-skinned human nearly died of shame, squinting his eyes shut to hold back tears of embarrassment, and turning his burning face from the crowd of furs who delighted in his chagrin.

"As I said," the ringleader commented dryly, pulling his arm away from the nude slave's nether region after a minute or so of sensual contact, leaving it engorged and aching for release. "This one is excellent bedroom or dungeon stock. It is impressively equipped for a tailless, is it not? Now that we've all seen its true, hidden value we can begin the bidding. For today's main attraction, I'll open bidding at 20 silver felids. Do I hear 20?"

An arm shot up almost immediately out of the crowd. Nathan couldn't make out any details its owner.

"25?"

Another paw rose elsewhere in the audience.

"30 felids for this fine specimen?" The smug owl inquired boldly.

A gravelly voice in the crowd assented. Nathan paled as he recognized it belonging to the rancid smelling bear from earlier. He dearly hoped that anyone else would purchase him, even that wretched tigress. He didn't know what the creature had in mind for him but he knew it would not be pleasant by any stretch of the word. His member softened at the thought.

"How about 40? 40 silver coins?"

The back and forth between the bidders and Lord Grant continued for several excruciating minutes. Before long, Nathan was hearing numbers in the hundreds called out. He didn't understand the monetary system, but the gleam in the cruel red-orange eyes of the avian ringleader told him that it was an impressive sum. Nathan's heart pounded. He was dreadfully nervous. Anyone, Nathan thought, that would spend that much money on a living being could have few good intentions.

"300 silver felids from the skunk in green! Going once! Going twice-"

"900 felids," a clear, calm voice rang out. The hall suddenly grew dead silent for a brief moment then erupted in a flurry of flabbergasted conversation about the apparently exorbitant amount of coin.

"900!? 900 silver felids!? Sold to...I'm sorry, friends, but who was it that claimed this piece?" The owl auctioneer said, almost molting in anticipation.

"Mavis! It was Mavis!" Someone cried out in a barely distinguishable accent.

Lord Grant clutched his chest, wide-eyed.

"Mavis!? As in, Mavis, the Mighty Steed, Mavis?" He inquired incredulously.

"Yes. That Mavis," the relaxed voice that belonged to whoever had offered so much money replied from near the front of the stage. The sound of hooves falling against wood echoed through the hall as the brown-coated stallion that had kissed Nathan so tenderly earlier stepped into the light of the ornate firepots. He still wore his open robe, willfully displaying his impressive body without a hint of modesty or concern.

Nathan sighed with relief when he saw the equine. If there was anyone that was going to own him, out of the strange beings that he had interacted with that day he was glad it was the stallion. The horse reached into a pocket on the side of his robe and withdrew a bulging sack before abruptly tossing it upon the stage where silver coins spilled forth. Nathan could see that each was struck with the icon of an anthropomorphic lion's head on one side and the image of a crown upon the other.

"I believe that he is mine now," the horse said after a long pause from the astonished Lord Grant, who had been rendered speechless by the sight of so many glittering pieces of silver.

The bird shook himself out of his stupor.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Sold to Lord Mavis for 900 felids!" The avian exclaimed to the gathering.

"I wish to depart immediately. Please have my purchase dressed and held around back for me, I will be by to retrieve him promptly," the stallion stated.

"Why yes, sir. Of course, sir," Lord Grant said, quickly turning from a pompous aristocrat to nothing more than a sniveling sycophant as he beckoned the wolves back over to collect Nathan and drag him backstage once more.

The young man saw the horse that had purchased him ignore the bootlicking and turned to leave amidst bows and praise from his fellow furs before he lost sight of him. He was quickly and roughly dressed by the wolf guards and a soft, black-suede collar attached to a slender length of chain was affixed around his neck, as though he were a treasured pet on a leash.

"Pause the auction," Lord Grant snapped at the porcupine striding backstage while bearing the massive bundle of coins. "I wish to deliver the lot to the Mighty Steed myself."

The white owl straightened his many ornate trappings self-consciously and swiped the leash from the guard. He dragged Nathan behind him at such an inconsiderate pace that the young man had to hurry to keep up and nearly stumbled more than once. The exited the same side door that the prisoners had been led in through minutes earlier and waited mere seconds before Mavis, Nathan's new owner, came around the corner to collect him.

"Grand hero," the owl toadied in his most pleasing of tones, wringing his wing-like hands together, "here is your purchase. If there is anything that I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask. I am fully and forever at your service. If there is nothing further that you need from me, then I'll bid you farewell until we meet once more."

"That will be all for today, I think. You're dismissed," the horse commented distantly as he took the leash from Lord Grant, seeming to almost ignore the owl completely as he set his eyes on Nathan and smiled warmly. It was the mischievous or cruel smiles that the man had grown accustomed to furs giving him in the odd land, but a genuine smile that promised anything but abuse. That alone brought some semblance of comfort to the newly captured slave.

The feathered anthropomorph bowed low, his wing tips brushing the flagstones as he flourished. It was then that it struck Nathan of how important his new owner must be, to so readily be able to reduce someone so arrogant to something so submissive. Lord Grant was backing away before he even fully righted himself, eagerly striving to please the stallion. Once the owl had disappeared inside Mavis spoke once more.

"I don't believe that we will be needing this," he stated simply, fingers deftly detaching the chain from Nathan's collar. "If you run, I will catch you. With ease. But I don't think you will. Will you?"

"No," Nathan replied.

"No, what?" The stallion questioned. His voice was stern, but far from angry.

The young man was puzzled at first as to how he was to expand upon the sentiment, but it quickly dawned on him that he truly was now a slave or a pet of some sort, at least until he better understood the land he found himself in. As someone completely subservient, it seemed, he was expected to treat furs with only the utmost respect, even, or perhaps especially, to those that were kind.

"Yes, Master," he amended hanging his head. He emphasized the word. It made Nathan blush to speak in such a manner.

The equine placed a finger beneath Nathan's chin and turned his face upward.

"Good. I do not live in this city, but it is already getting late in the day. We will head to an inn nearby where we will stay for the evening," Mavis explained before he was interrupted by an audible rumble from his servant's stomach.

Nathan realized that was well into the afternoon and he had eaten nothing all day. The fear and anxiety had gripped him so readily over the last several hours that he had not noticed until just then precisely how hungry, and thirsty, he had really become.

The stallion chuckled.

"You'll be fed as well, I assure you," he commented, amused. "Now follow closely."

Nathan abided, deciding it was prudent to do as the horse asked rather than attempt to run away. Though he didn't want to be a slave by any stretch of the word the young man knew that if he bolted not only was he unlikely to attain his freedom, but the equine would likely become far less affable. His anthropomorphic owner set a swift pace as the duo made their way through the winding labyrinth of cobbled streets and bustling markets. Before long, the crowds and noise gave way to wider boulevards interlaced with lavish gardens and lined with far nicer buildings than the chaotic mess of the city square. It was clear that they were in the richer neighborhoods of the odd settlement.

There were fewer furs about, but those that were there were finely dressed, and the humans that kept nearby were more attractive and certainly better fed and treated than the abused servants that were so common a sight earlier that day. Most of them were wearing gem studded collars while being led around on slender chains like treasured pets, though more than a few carried heavy luggage for their masters.

A variety of anthropomorphs greeted Mavis with respectful nods and salutations as he passed, and none seemed to pay much mind to the massive organ swinging between his legs like a pendulum, which was something that Nathan quickly found he could not take his eyes off of. Every once in a while the stallion would glance over and notice the human admiring his length and smile knowingly.

Within several minutes the interesting pair arrived outside a well-maintained, two-story structure. Hanging next to a propped open door was a large sign bearing the brightly painted insignia of the silhouette of a fox in gold. Painstakingly etched into the wood beneath the emblem in a looping script were the words "Golden Fox Taproom and Inn." From within, the scent of roasting game and vegetables wafted forth with the warmth of a fire pit. Nathan followed the silent horse inside. Immediately there was a cheer from the several occupied tables. Paws raised high, cheerfully clinking glasses of wine together. To a one they seemed pleased to be in the company of Nathan's mysterious owner, who grinned at them pleasantly as a whole and gave a brief wave before heading straight for an apron-clad anthropomorphic rabbit with grey fur that was tending an immaculate bar.

Without even needing to say a word the creature fished out a key ring bearing a single, brass key from behind the counter and held it to the chestnut steed.

"Your key, my lord. Same room as always," he said respectfully. "Can I interest you in any food or drink?"

"I'll send for some in a bit, perhaps, thank you," Mavis responds, taking the key from his host, and turning toward a staircase in the corner of the room, nodding to acknowledge the furs that greeted him as he and Nathan passed.

Nathan followed closely and the two entered one of the doors down a narrow hall at the top of the stairs. The room was tastefully decorated and furnished, with a large bed dominating the center of the chamber. After ushering his slave inside, the horse closed the portal and made his way over to the bed. He unhooked his sword belt and casually slid the weapon beneath the frame before motioning for Nathan to sit beside him. The human reluctantly obliged and stiffly sat next to Mavis.

The horse inched over until their thighs touched, making Nathan distinctly uncomfortable.

"I want you to relax. I don't know what treatment you've endured before meeting me, but you will not suffer undue abuse while in my presence. You may speak your mind and do as you wish, provided that you follow the few orders that I do choose to issue. Do you understand?" He inquired in a gentle tone, dropping the terse pretenses from earlier in the day and allowing himself to speak at greater length.

"Yes, master," Nathan responded quietly, his voice forced.

The horse draped a heavy arm over the man's shoulders in an attempt to comfort him and chuckled slightly.

"You're not like the other humans. You are obviously confused and frightened, not merely defeated. But I think that you understand that I'm going to be the most forgiving and fair master you could have found today," Mavis continued. "Now, why don't you tell me a little about yourself and why you are so different?"

Nathan opened his mouth to respond, but unable to find the words, quickly shut it once more. He didn't know what to say and the last time he had truthfully answered a question asked of him it earned him nothing but pain and harassment.

"Maybe," the stallion commented, "it will help you if I start. My name is Mavis. I have no interest in recounting my family history, so I'll tell you who I am, rather than where I've come from. I used to be a soldier. As a master of both the sword and bow I fought in many more battles than I could ever hope to count. As a warrior of great prowess I quickly advanced in the military and before long commanded vast armies in service to our king. I retired young and healthy, and with a sizable fortune, having never retreated and never once faced defeat. Most in this country regard me as a great hero and more than a few speak my name as though it be eternally regarded as legend."

Nathan was enthralled by the horse's tale. He gradually pieced, bit by bit, life in the strange land together, even if he was completely in the dark on how he came to be there.

As when they were walking earlier and at the auction, the slave was finding that he couldn't keep his eyes off of Mavis' impressive member, sprawled, as it was, over the edge of the mattress between the horse's muscular thighs. He pondered why the creature so readily exposed himself, and why not a soul seemed to mind. He wanted to ask, but was still having difficulty finding his voice for more than acknowledging that his master spoke. The exhausting day had drained every last bit of courage from his soul.

The stallion quickly noticed the human's wandering eyes.

"You are curious about my chosen attire, are you not?" He questioned with a friendly smile.

Nathan nodded, eliciting a raised brow from his owner.

"Yes, master," he amended quickly.

"As a veteran commander and a war hero I am considered a symbol of masculinity and virility. It is a long standing tradition in this land, that 'Mighty Steeds' such as myself be celebrated for willfully bearing their 'weapons' with open pride," he explained.

To Nathan's surprise, he felt that the title was perfectly fitting for his new master, even if he was taken aback by the strangeness of the practice.

"Of course, with such recognition I'm free to claim any mare I want, or even multiple, should I so choose. They throw themselves at my hooves, in some embarrassing cases, quite literally so. But I've never been comfortable with a mare as a mate."

"Do you prefer...stallions, master?" Nathan ventured, wondering if the horse was merely being needlessly verbose about proclaiming his homosexuality.

"To some degree, though I've never felt any particular need to mate with stallions either. There have times where I have had urges to fulfill with the help of a partner, but I've been apathetic toward entertaining ongoing relationships with any fur for my entire life thus far. No; since I was but a foal I've always held a particular fascination with the handsome human servants. As a colt I'd watch them toiling in the fields, their bodies glistening with sweat, for hours on end."

Nathan noted that his master's eyes glazed and became distant as he spoke candidly about his youth with an almost bittersweet inflection. He also noticed that the equine's phallus plumped ever so slightly at the memory.

"It is not uncommon, mind you, for a fur to take on a human slave as toy to express their more taboo sexual urges. No doubt that is what most of the bidders had in mind when they placed their offers for you. Certainly that is how that horrid owl was marketing you. But that is all they see you as. Just a tool; a means to an end. However, I am what many would refer to as one who is 'astray.'"

For the first time since he began his musings Nathan found that the stallion seemed to struggle through his speech. Knowing that he was not the only one that suffered discontent emboldened him slightly.

"I seek not just to breed a human for immediate gratification, but to mate with one. I do not wish to merely order around a slave. I want a lover. Someone who speaks his mind and is happy and willing to please me for reasons beyond following the perimeters of his station. When I saw you outside the auction house today for the first time I could tell that you were special. Your immediate, sensual response to my advance told me that you were the human that I could be myself with, and who could perhaps grow love me in return someday."

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, unsure of precisely how to respond. He couldn't help but feel that the stallion was right in his frank assertions, and he oddly found himself enjoying his master's company, become quickly enraptured in the horse's speech. He also came to the realization that sometime after entering the inn he had ceased truly caring if he was to be rescued or not. All that he had ever really wanted, to be desired and loved, he was being offered. He couldn't truthfully say that he wasn't attracted to the equine even if he did have an alien physique. The horse's powerful muscles and soft coat seemed very enticing.

"Now that you've learned a bit about me, pet, I'd like to know a little about you. Setting your strangeness aside for later, could you offer me your name?" He asked.

"Nathan," the slave replied, gaining confidence. "My name is Nathan, master."

"Nathan," Mavis repeated, testing the moniker. "I do believe I like that name. Yes, you shall keep it."

The servant lifted his head to look the stallion in the eyes. They both smiled, unsure of what cause it. Nathan licked his lips in anticipation. For a long, moment neither moved, satisfied to bask in one another's presence. The human's cocoa-brown eyes flickered downward to Mavis' impressive member, which started to stiffen in earnest as they sat huddled close. Nathan nearly gasped as he saw that the equine's already imposing length extended further as it grew erect.

Mavis hooked his paw beneath Nathan's chin once more and angled the human's head upward, positioning his muzzle near the human's lips. They paused, frozen for the briefest instant. The slave felt his master's breath across his face and shuddered in anticipation. The stallion brushed his lips against his servant's lightly once, then a second time more firmly. The horse smiled widely and nodded downward to Nathan's crotch, in particular his growing bulge.

"You prefer males as well," he stated. It was not a question.

"Yes, master," Nathan responded anyway, somewhat shyly.

"Good. Then that shall make this transition easier on you."

Mavis leaned forward once more and locked lips with his captive. Nathan found his arms weaving their way behind the stallion's back. The horse's tongue pressed at the young man's mouth, which he readily parted to allow its entry. The two embraced passionately as they kissed, fingers drawing across each other's backs. For something so strange and otherworldly the moment felt right to the captive for reasons he could not explain.

The anthropomorphic horse pulled away for just a second to shrug his muscled shoulders, allowing his open robe to fall unceremoniously away. His fingers tugged at the hem of Nathan's shirt, pulling it up and over his head to reveal his lean torso. The equine ran his paws over Nathan's tone chest, feeling each contour of his pet's flesh with grand admiration. He worked his way lower and deftly undid the slave's belt, sliding it free of his jeans and casting it aside with abandon, following soon with his socks and shoes.

"Stand," the horse huffed, breathing heavily in yearning.

Nathan stood, and his owner quickly unbuttoned his pants and hooked his thumbs into the waist of both them and his underwear, guiding the garments down over the young man's fair-skinned hips and exposing his rigid arousal. He was enjoying being undressed by his master, and each time the term passed through his mind he minded it less.

"Back on the bed," Mavis urged, anticipation evident in his husky voice.

His slave fell back onto the mattress; arms out to his sides, letting his owner see every inch of his body. The stallion fell atop him, kissing him fervently once more. Their tongues played, exploring one another's mouths and necks between heavy panting. Nathan felt the horse's massive genitals press against him, dwarfing even his own sizable set. The two intertwined for several minutes, tasting one another and friskily nipping at each other's necks. The servant found the taste and scent of the anthropomorph more intoxicating than he could ever imagine. As if automatically, Nathan found his arms drawn together in the small of the horse's back. His fingers crawled downward and brushed through the lush hair of Mavis' black tail, then traveled beneath it. With his middle finger he found the steed's puckered ring and circled it curiously before allowing a second finger to join his exploration. With a sudden decision Nathan plunged both digits within the furs hole, feeling its tightness and its warmth. He massaged the entrance lightly sliding his two fingers in and out.

Mavis did not protest, but rather released a throaty, feral whinny of delight.

Too soon, Nathan's partner stood, his chest expanding and contracting rapidly.

Mavis' turgid erection was thrust forward in front of him. With one paw he massaged between the base of his shaft and the medial ring partway down its impressive length. Nathan propped himself up on his arms and knew what the steed desired. He leaned forward, licking his lips desirously and cupped the top half of the member between his palms, taking a tentative lick at the flared head of the dappled cock. It was already moist with warm pre-cum. The flesh was velvety and soft, but not noticeably different in taste from a human's. He lapped at it more earnestly, running his tongue along and wrapping it about the massive shaft.

Opening wide, the slave barely managed to engulf the tip of the member and bobbed down a few inches several times. While he fellated the horse he moved his hands down the length and to the heavy sac beneath it. He rolled Mavis's enormous balls in his palms, pleasing the steed. The horse unleashed a couple jets of pre-cum into Nathan's throat, nearly choking him due to its great volume, but he hungrily swallowed down the salty emission.

"Cease," Mavis ordered. "I want to finish inside of you."

Nathan drew back, he was eager for such as well but worried about being stretched on the colossal phallus.

The horse leaned down and grabbed his pet's ankles, lifting them until they were raised high in the air and Nathan was flat on his back, rump exposed. Mavis lowered his face to his slave's cleft and stuck out his tongue, dragging the wet organ along his hole, coating it in saliva. Nathan quaked, he had never been rimmed before and he found the sensation amazing. He gasped as the slimy member again and again ran across his pucker.

Suddenly, the pet felt a great pressure as the horse's large tongue pressed at his entrance. It slid its way inside, stretching him and lubricating his hole. Mavis thrust his tongue in and out, flicking it rapidly. Nathan clutched the sheets between whitening fingers, fidgeting and moaning in ecstasy as his prostate was massaged by horse's expertise.

Too soon the ministrations halted. Nathan was left panting, his penis aching for release, on the verge of climax.

Nathan's ankles were still gripped tightly by the masculine anthropomorph, who pulled them apart to rest them over his shoulders. Thrusting his pelvis forward, Nathan could feel the steed's massive member pressing against saliva-slick ring. Mavis rubbed it there, teasing his slave as both felt the tip pulse spasmodically, flaring even wider. More hot pre-cum leaked onto the human's entrance, wetting it further.

"Are you ready, Nathan?" The stallion inquired, obviously aware of his own notable thickness.

Nathan nodded slowly. His cock throbbed openly, dribbling pre-cum over his shaft.

"Yes, master. Please," he practically pleaded, completely enraptured in the desire for sex.

"I'll be gentle. I promise," Mavis cooed.

Slowly and steadily, the chestnut equine pressed forward. The flared tip stretched his partner wide, the hole barely expanding over the rigid length. Nathan cried out in a loud moan somewhere between great pain and endless pleasure. He was sure the entire taproom below could here. He didn't care. He needed to be filled by the stallion. He needed to be taken and breed. To fill the urge that no mare could satisfy. As the first several inches snaked inside him Nathan writhed with bliss, gradually adjusting the massive organ that spread him.

The medial ring connected with his already stretched entrance causing the young man to gasp.

Mavis pulled back and nearly out of Nathan, until this flared head once again was less than an inch from Nathan's strained entrance. He thrust forward again, more quickly than the first time, but once again pausing as the ring of flesh midway down his shaft collided with his slave's abused hole. He repeated the motion several times, picking up speed as he went until he was bucking in and out of pet at a quick pace. Nathan continued to moan uncontrollably, crying out in bliss each and every time the stallion bucked into him. His heart fluttered. Mavis' incredible phallus pressed against the sweet spot inside of him, causing him to leak steady rivulets of pre-cum down his shaft and over his balls. He was afraid to touch himself, lest he finish before his master was ready.

After rhythmically pounding in and out of his slave like a piston for a couple of minutes, the stallion slowed, and pressed his medial ring against the stretched pucker of Nathan's ass. He paused and then pressed forward. The pet cried out in pleasure louder than ever before as his hole expanded further to facilitate the added girth. Jets of hot pre-cum erupted from the tip of his own cock, covering his chest in his essence.

"More! Please, master," Nathan pleaded between gasps and groans. "I've never felt this way before. I love this. I want to be yours! Take me harder!"

"I love this too, pet," the stallion grunted in return as he rocked and gyrated his hips, forcing his cock deeper within the begging, submissive, young man.

Mavis whinnied again and his pace became far more erratic as he began to lose control and thrust wildly into his slave. Nathan had never felt a lover go so deep. He felt the tip of his owner's enormous phallus flare and spasm, stretching him beyond belief. His head rolled back and he moaned out loudly. The human servant felt his hole constrict tightly around Mavis' penis as he climaxed. Rope after rope of sticky seed ejected forth, splattering himself beneath his chin.

The potent scent of Nathan's essence and his flexing of his entrance likewise pushed the stallion over the edge. With one final thrust he pressed into Nathan to the hilt. His hefty sac slapped against the slave's ass as he released a series of throaty huffs and tensed every muscle. His pet felt a torrent of horse semen be released within him, flooding his insides and warming him. He gasped, knowing his first act of complete servitude was finished.

The session was undeniably the best that Nathan had ever had. His aching hole repeatedly flexed around the equine's slowly softening phallus, still lodged deep within him. With excruciating slowness the anthropomorphic being slid free, leaving the slave's entrance feeling empty, cold, and gaping.

Mavis collapsed beside his human servant, and the two said nothing for a long while as they basked in the afterglow, lying nude alongside one another.

"I truly am blessed to have found you, my Nathan," the mighty steed commented, draping an arm across his property's chest.

At that moment Nathan truly and fully realized that he had no intention of escaping and did not wish to be rescued. He wanted to remain with the horse for the rest of his days, even if it meant being trapped in the forsaken and confusing land.

"So am I...master," he responded, unable to stifle a soft yawn.

"So am I," he repeated once before drifting off into unconsciousness in both satisfaction and exhaustion.