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The hare swallowed as he peered up at the structure before him. Even late at night, lit only by the moon and stars, Firepelt Castle was a sight to behold, a fortress carved out of a massive spike of black rock that jutted up from the earth. It was considered impossible to besiege, owing to the fact that it still had the protection of the rest of the massive black rock towering a hundred feet higher than its central tower and taking up the remaining space between the castle and the sheer cliff on the other side. With all the windows and many spots on the parapets illuminated by torches, the soldiers appeared as though they were shadows possessing suits of armor and carrying weapons.

Yes, a most intimidating sight (and that wasn't accounting for the castle's bloody history, either).

Pushing aside his fears, Kliven stepped out of his carriage and let his driver know to wait for him; he wouldn't be too long. The journey between the city and the castle was almost eight hours, and he needed to be back in the city by mid-afternoon tomorrow. Given that he'd contacted the castle's lord almost four days ago, the matter should be settled quickly with so much time to prepare.

"Ah, Master Kliven," a guard greeted as he approached the front gates, "good to see you made it. No bandits on these trails; they're too scared of what we'll do to them. The Lord's expecting you in his private audience chamber, so just follow the squire and you'll be there in no time."

Kliven thanked the lynx, passing through the gates and keeping pace behind a young cheetah. Glancing around quickly, he saw there was surprisingly little going on, mostly the guards performing their nightly patrols and some squires making sure the torches were burning properly; the courtyard was otherwise empty.

The pair entered the main hall, the heavy iron-and-oak doors being shut behind them. Like the rest of the fortress, the main hall was impressive, its high vaulted ceiling featuring diamond-pattern tiles and ornate crystal chandeliers (three, hanging evenly-spaced apart along the hall's length). Lining the walls on either side were portraits of previous lords (on the left) and ladies (on the right), with busts of warriors, poets, politicians, actors, and more underneath each painting.

The cheetah led the hare up the grand staircase, which sported thick railing, the balusters topped with large spheres; the entire staircase was made from expertly-carved white-and-gray marble, and Kliven suspected that it had to be almost as old as the castle itself, since importing the materials currently was extremely expensive.

"Not much longer, sir," the cheetah said as he led his charge down the left hallway, all the way to the last door. A feeling of acute jealousy echoed through Kliven as he noted the floors, polished to a mirror shine; the walls, decorated with tapestries and rugs; and the finest teak doors with their golden handles. Even though the hare was a very successful merchant, he'd never be able to come close to the enormous wealth possessed by his host.

Standing to the side, the squire opened the door and bowed. "My Lord will be in shortly, sir. Please make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," Kliven said, handing the lad a copper coin. It was a pittance, sure, but he hadn't done much and he'd probably end up spending it on a new brush to polish his instructor's gear.

The private audience chamber was practically a luxurious master bedroom crossed with an upper-crust lounge: a pair of cushy divans faced each other in the room's center, a small, ornate mahogany-and-bronze table set between them; the walls were covered by large red satin curtains trimmed with tassels of the darkest black; a large and magnificent chandelier hung overhead in the room's center; and the lone window displayed what would be (during the day) a stunning view of the surroundings.

But the last item, in the room's far back, was what made Kliven's breath hitch in his throat.

A large pile of throw pillows formed a makeshift bed, on top of which lay a young human woman. She had long blonde hair that flowed past her shoulders, some of her lochs spilling down in front and framing her generous breasts. Those same enthralling orbs were supported by a rather risqué bra made of what looked like silk, and was patterned like a leopard's hide. She also wore a G-string of the same look, and her spread legs gave the merchant a perfect view of her soft hump. The final touch of clothing was a thick leather collar around her fair-skinned neck, one of the highest-quality designs.

Regarding him with a sultry grin, her brown eyes glinting with playful lust, the woman said, "You must be exhausted from your long journey, Master Kliven." She extended her arm, palm up, but otherwise kept herself reclined on her pillows. "Allow me to massage all those muscles. I assure you that my technique is peerless."

Kliven's throat tightened, and his tries at swallowing didn't help. He'd seen more than a few humans, sure, since his business meant procuring sustenance, clothing, and various tools for the slavers who specialized in the flesh trade. And certainly the vast majority of humans were kept as sex slaves (which was about all they were good for). But to be alone in a room with one, and especially with one who was offering her body to him? Perhaps the gods were smiling on him, a sign of good fortunes to come.

He took a step forward, a nervous but eager grin on his face, when the door suddenly opened again. He wheeled around to find his host entering, and immediately adopted a less risky attitude.

"L-lord Stone Fang," he greeted, "a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

Cassius Stone Fang towered over Kliven's meager five-foot-six height with an intimidating one of six-foot-nine. Wearing black silk pants, a gold waistband, and a large black silk robe with gold trim, he appeared to be dressed as if ready to go to bed rather than enter negotiations. The robe was open, granting Kliven a phenomenal view of the chiseled physique the tiger was endowed with, the taut muscles standing out underneath all the fur. The sight of such a honed form made the herbivore's gut knot in a very uncomfortable fashion.

"Welcome to Firepelt Castle, Mr. Kliven," Cassius greeted. "Please, have a seat. Ziara won't misbehave so long as we're discussing business. And should you want to rut with her, then I'll go busy myself for a couple hours elsewhere."

Kliven coughed nervously, gesturing in a placating manner. "No, thank you, Lord Stone Fang. I'll only be here so long as it takes for us to work out a deal. Your property is your own, and it isn't my place to fiddle with it."

Cassius snorted. "Please. We both know humans are sex toys. Fuck her if you want; I don't care." Grinning, his ivory-white fangs glinting, he gestured to the divans. "But if you just want to negotiate, then let's negotiate."

Kliven nodded, padding over to a divan and sitting down; Cassius took a far more relaxed pose, almost spread-eagle on the navy velvet.

"I'll get right to it, then," the hare began. "I need your help in passing a bill in Parliament."

"Then you need someone who more regularly visits; I'm known for my pronounced abstinence of political meddling."

"Yes, I understand that, but you have a lot of weight in the House of Lords. There's a bit of legislature drafted and majority-approved by the Commons that will reduce the tariffs on goods to and from the Starving Mountains region. If those reductions are executed, then trade with our neighbors becomes a lot easier, which in turn nets merchants such as myself a tidy profit."

"But of course there's a catch."

Kliven sighed. "The Lords are right now more opposed to the bill, insisting that a 'modest' hike in taxes would generate the revenue needed to secure more favorable trade routes."

"Which is a polite way of saying that it'll be harder for your ilk to sell off their goods because they'll be more expensive and people will be more reluctant to buy them." Cassius chuckled. "Ah, the Houses, how they work their wonders. Now, what do I get in return for convincing some of my fellow Lords to be kind instead of cruel? I clearly am not lacking money."

"I know that, sir, but the leader of the opposition party is Lord Gale Rider."

Kliven nearly leapt out of his seat as five sharp cracks sounded throughout the chamber: Cassius had tightened one of his fists so much all of his knuckles had popped.

"Indeed?" the tiger asked, his narrowed eyes boring into the merchant.

Kliven nodded. "Y-yes, my Lord. I approached you for help in getting the bill past Lord Gale Rider because I had heard you had a fight with him, an ugly one, and I wanted someone who wouldn't readily refuse a chance to get him back."

Cassius had to keep from grinding his teeth as he said, "You picked wisely. But I want more than the pleasure of dicking over someone I loathe."

Kliven gestured in as appeasing a manner as he could. "I only have my goods to offer, since you made it clear you don't care for money."

"No, I want goods. _Specific_goods, ones not available through traditional means."

The hare blinked, not sure he'd heard the other correctly. "Er, you wouldn't happen to mean contraband, would you?"

Cassius nodded. "That's _precisely_what I mean. I've had my eye on a selection of foreign herbs and spices that my sources tell me are particularly worthwhile aphrodisiacs." He waved a hand at Ziara. "Clearly I don't mind sex, and I'm perfectly fine with mounting a human. The items will allow me to achieve greater ecstasy and that will cement more of my bedroom reputation with the upper-class females, after having practiced on my pet."

"Of course, my Lord! I'll deliver them personally, if need be!"

Truth be told, Kliven hated the idea of being a criminal, because it meant he could really be busted by the authorities and being sent to prison. He'd heard plenty of stories, from both gossipers and cons, about the hard labor, the poor living conditions, and the constant rutting, especially by dominant males. That last one had even produced a rumor about a rather sleazy warden who had, until being discovered, rented out many of his inmates as brothel whores. With his lousy luck, Kliven had the gut feeling that he'd end up sucking a bear's cock while taking one up the ass from a bull.

"Anything other than the herbs and spices?" he asked Cassius, who shook his head.

"I'll have all I need once the bill passes. When is the hearing for it?"

"In ten days, giving us not much of a window."

Cassius waved dismissively. "More than enough to humiliate that bastard Rider. You can go home and sleep like the dead now."

Kliven found the tiger's confidence more than a little high. "Are you sure?"

"I know how to hurt a reputation beyond repair. Rider will cease to be a problem in mere days and with his downfall will come a massive loss of opposition from the other Lords."

Nodding, the merchant stood, giving a slight bow. "Then I suppose I'll be off. Thank you very much, my Lord."

Once he had gone, Cassius sighed heavily, gazing upon Ziara. His need for the banned substances was more than the simple need to throw his intimate weight around among the nobility: he needed an heir. The many females he had bedded were certainly attractive but many were shallow, self-styled queens and he couldn't bring himself to consider them for mateship.

He knew how to dodge questions about the origins of an heir, forging documents and paying off the right parties. What he didn't know was where he'd find a decent mother. He had only a minor amount of regard for humans, but Ziara was a good enough pet that he had started wondering if it was possible for humans and anthros to interbreed. The woman could hardly do a terrible job of child rearing, after all.

She wasn't entirely prepared for him to take her. It was almost instantly that his own clothes were discarded onto the floor and he was ripping hers off, her legs pushed wide apart and allowing him to spear his rock-hard dick into her.

Ziara's eyes were wide and her mouth agape: for all the world, she was a lifeless doll as her master roughly pounded her. Droll began to run out the corner of her mouth, down her neck, and onto the expensive pillows, but neither the human nor the tiger paid any heed to it; only Cassius's cock mattered. The raging heat, the pulsing veins, and the nonstop crashing of hips worked in tandem to turn the young woman's mind into a hazy mush of sensual bliss.

He could feel himself racing towards climax, the burning intensity in his malehood becoming more and more difficult to put off.

With a final, Herculean thrust, he plunged himself to the hilt inside Ziara's pussy. His slit widened and a jet of hot white cum surged out, flooding the womb quickly. The Lord of Firepelt Castle ignored his slave's own peaking, withdrawing once he was sure he'd emptied himself completely; a good sampling of his essence gushed out onto the pillows following his exit.

As Ziara quickly fell into sleep, Cassius redressed himself. He left the chamber and made his way down the hall, intent on sending out a notice immediately.

His best agent, Black Hand, would be more than enough to crumble Rider's career.