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The young lion stood uncertainly. He was too well bred to let it show much, but it was there for the experienced eye. The way his ears twitched; the nervous flick of a tongue over whiskers. The rapid slap of a tail against his leg. He had assumed the carefully neutral expression of the Royal Court, a blank vaguely interested stare perfect for ignoring courtiers with their insincere adulation while all the time appearing engaged and simultaneously rather busy and a touch distracted. Not enough to cause offence, just enough to presage the inevitable "Please excuse me dear Baron, but I really must be going..." and an escape to a quieter place for a drink and a moment's peace.

He had cultivated the look, having acquired it from his royal father, King Braddis III of the Four Suns. Many hours of careful practice in front of the mirror, under the tutelage of his court etiquette teacher Master Draelan had paid off. The buck had professed himself satisfied. From Draelan, that was almost unprecedented praise.

Still, the young prince knew his Father was an altogether different challenge. The Royal Countenance would stay on, more from habit than anything else, and he hoped his father the King would at least interpret it as an attempt at rendering appropriate respect. The alternative was far too troubling; an attempt at concealment, or worse, deliberate offence.

The many twists and turns of that internal conundrum afflicted the young lion for the next half hour, as his face struggled to conceal the twinge of uncertainty and his stress responses gained a new, highly suggestive ingredient. The scent of adolescent lion sweat.

The guards standing stiff and ready in the anteroom to the King's private presence chamber worked to avoid obvious grins, as their sensitive bull's nostrils picked up the scent of worried kitty. They had more experience than the Prince though, and that enabled them to keep their thoughts strictly to themselves.

No guard incapable of such control lasted long in the Royal household.

After a carefully calculated period of time, just enough to let the lion reach maximum fear, not enough for him to calm down again, the King's chamberlain emerged to usher the Prince into the Royal Presence and put him out of his misery.

Now was not the time for easy formality, reasoned the Prince, as he waited for the big lion to acknowledge him, head bowed and nose firmly touching the exquisite marble floor sourced from fifteen different planets on the fringe of known space. Not until he knew exactly what in the four suns his father was playing at.

"My son!"

He counted to three, slowly, as protocol demanded, before lifting onto one knee, all the while admiring the sense of wonder and amazement the King managed to put into those two words, as if for all the worlds he hadn't summoned the youngster urgently and his presence was the happiest of surprises. He realised he still had much to learn, and the realisation grated on his pride.

"Father, your loyal Son and Prince of the Realm bids you greetings."

His father was impeccably dressed in sumptuous embroidered silk as always, his mane carefully groomed, tail wrapped in thread of gold. He was not formally dressed though, the Prince noted. No ceremonial sword, no circlet on his brow. There was also the marked absence of a Royal Scribe with holorecorder and light pen to take down a record of proceedings and any Royal Proclamations. This was not an Audience; he relaxed, slightly but enough for his tail to stop twitching. The King noticed, and smiled inwardly. He enjoyed playing the young lion more than he really should.

"Prince Taris. My loyal son. It is good to see you."

The King walked forward without hesitating, embracing his son warmly to add physical dimension to the generous greeting. The young lion relaxed further, venturing a small smile and an unconscious groom of his mane. He was inordinately proud of his mane, just beginning to grow out in the pattern of an adult male, and he spent long hours in front of the mirror fluffing it just right before court functions. Some of the less cautious ladies of the court had been heard to call him "beautiful", much to his chagrin. It really wasn't for them that he did it.

"Father, it is always a pleasure to spend time in your company. Please, tell me; how can I be of service to you today?"

The King returned the smile, patting his son on the head slightly condescendingly. He saw the young prince bristle, the way his whiskers twitched were a dead giveaway. He would have to have words with Master Draelan, obviously. The youngster had much to learn still before he was ready.

"My son, I brought you here today for a talk, and a demonstration. First the talk though. Tell me, have you enjoyed our little discussions on the realities of Kingship?"

Ahh, thought the Prince. It was going to be one of those. Not that he minded; he enjoyed his father's long rambling talks, mostly because of the underlying assumption. That he was worthy of the Kingship, after his father. In the fullness of time, of course.

"Yes father, I find them...most instructive."

"Good. Today I want to talk to you about servants, and the importance of absolute loyalty."

The Prince felt a slight twitch in his tail at that, but nothing more. He seated himself instead on a royal couch covered in priceless woven silk and delicately dissected a Gerenta fruit with one dextrous claw. If he had a weakness, this was it; the feel of that sweet nectar in his muzzle always made him forget all else.

"Loyalty?"

"Yes son, loyalty. A King must survive many things; enemies without and within. We may pretend in our outward appearance that we live in an absolute monarchy above all reproach, but that is not true as I have told you before. We are in reality first amongst equals, and a scheming bunch of equals they are."

"Our line is merely the most recent inhabitant of the Golden Throne, and not even a long lived one. The de Larkim of Prothane ruled through three hundred years and nine generations of uncontested succession after the war of the Red Sun, and our territories are not as extensive as they were in those days. Even the ability to build a pleasure palace as sumptuous as this masks significant weaknesses, my son, which are well known to the members of the court. Especially to the members of the court."

"I know father, you have spoken on this at length..." the Prince was getting impatient. Another Gerenta fruit paid the price, and he signalled to an attendant to refill the bowl by his side.

The King pursed his lips now. He approved of excess in certain things. He wasn't so sure that Gerenta fruit however were a particularly Kingly passion, but with a dash of malice he did enjoy the idea of pricking the young kitten's sense of surety right in the middle of gulping down the treats. Maybe he would find it difficult to enjoy them in future.

"Yes son, and there is a reason. In a place like this, it is easy to forget our vulnerability. All these marble halls and rich fabrics and gold and luxuries. They are there for a purpose; to remind those self same nobles of our power in a paean of pure excess for every moment they spend here. They are not supposed to blind us to our own weakness though; that way lies civil war, usurpation, death. It has happened before, and will happen again if we are not vigilant."

"Father, there have been no serious threats to the throne in twenty years..."the youngster was cut off by a wild snarling roar that made his mane ruffle and he stopped in mid nibble with Gerenta fruit juice dripping off one gleaming incisor as the fruit tumbled from a startled paw.

"...And there will be none in another twenty years if I have my way. And that includes from you, Prince!"

Silence.

"Me?" He had been about to select another Gerenta fruit from the priceless iridium bowl but the last statement had entirely killed his appetite. The King managed an internal nod of satisfaction at the sight.

"Yes young fool. But returning to my little homily. The strength in a royal house lies not in the marble of its halls, but in its servants. A King is only as strong as those he commands absolute loyalty from. Absolute...not partial. And no King can sit by idly, when his most trusted servants are...shall we say, used, if that's the right term, in ways that may bind them to another..."

The Prince remained silent now, but his stomach dropped into his footpaws. He had an awful feeling about this.

"Son, I know you are of age now when the sap starts to rise. It is expected. What I did expect of course was that you would come to me. Not help yourself to my stud harem. Of all the stupid things you could have done boy...playing with the Royal Stallions without my permission."

The young lion gulped, but could find no words. There weren't any really to be found.

"I see you don't deny it."

Taris recovered a little of his authority; enough to answer at least. The King watched impassively, secretly hoping for some backbone.

"Well, I assume there is no point is there father."

"No son. A small word of advice; if you want to use the Rose pavilion in the Royal pleasure gardens for your trysts, check for spydots first."

That was a surprise. He had assumed that someone had told, not that he had been discovered. His surprise made him foolish.

"Spydots? In the Royal Pleasure Gardens? Why?"

The laughter was long and loud, and the Prince felt himself burning with embarrassment. He wished he could have shut his mouth.

"Ahhh son. That is why you are not ready. I have spies, living and electronic, everywhere. A King must. Nobody is to be trusted. No one. Not even members of the household...forget the court; they are all knaves and vagabonds. No, son. You trust no one, or you die. The most likely usurper is someone of the blood; many a Royal Prince has decided to hasten his father's retirement, shall we say. You are watched, always. And I let it go a while to see what you are about. The reason we are having this conversation and not a very different one is that from what I have seen, your actions were the product of testosterone and not ambition."

Taris had learned by now. Enough to bite his tongue at least. Inside was a secret hope though; that at least some of his actions had gone unnoticed. It would go poorly for some of his co-conspirators if his father knew it all. He therefore nodded, and hoped. It appeared to satisfy the older lion.

"Good. Now, let me make you understand your error. My stud harem are my most loyal servants. You may think of my guard bulls in that capacity, or my personal attendants like my chamberlain . But it is not the case. The studs are selected from the plains herds at a young age and brought here for training as harem servants. It is an honour to be selected, and the studs act as tribute from the herds so they are not taxed into oblivion, which is just as well as they are poor and backwards otherwise. But they do provide the most exquisite stallions, pure sexual athletes. Nothing I am sure new to you."

The Prince nodded. He could certainly attest to that.

"I bring them into the harem, and they are indoctrinated and trained in the arts of their new life, until they retire when age makes them unable to continue. In the meantime though, they are both my own most favoured companions and the means by which I maintain my hold on the court."

Now the young lion was intrigued. "Your hold on the court?"

"Yes Taris. Now you begin to understand. This pleasure dome, in which I imprison the most powerful members of my court for nine months of the year, is not about pleasure. It is a prison; a gilded one, but a prison. But it is a prison filled with every possible pleasure, and a staff of beautiful willing studs trained in every sexual art and eager to use their skills in my service. They find each member of the court, and find their deepest needs, their most unmet inner secret wants. And they service them, while telling me every detail, every word, and every gesture that comes from my noble and restive court."

"Father!"

"Yes son. The Royal Stallions are my spies, and my dedicated pleasure troops. They ensure the court remain loyal, and happy, if slightly disgruntled. But how unhappy can you be, when you have a beautiful stud stallion begging for your cock, or your pussy, or filling your tailhole whenever you want? And they give them what they want, even the most secret of needs are satisfied. But only at my command, and on my authority!" The King slapped his palm against his side for emphasis, and the Prince gulped. He was beginning to see where this was going, and though it could be worse, he has was still conscious of falling into a pit of vipers in a drunken haze.

"So, say that Baron Nevik likes them young, colts barely out of the harem school; I provide the youngest for his bed. Perhaps Baroness Talisar loves nothing more than watching a perfect pair of twin stud stallions fucking each other and then her own daughter, while the Duke of Narbethan loves to whip a bound and helpless stud with the Tarvoi-lash while fingering his tailhole. Whatever their need, within reason, my harem will provide...and the grateful and ashamed nobility are mine. All of it comes to my ears, and my eyes if I want. Spydots are cheap...and easy to conceal."

Suddenly the Prince had a deeply unwanted feeling of fear again. He tried to hide it, but it was too late.

"Well should you be afraid, Taris. You took some of my studs. And I didn't find out through them; I found out through channels. Then the recordings were rechecked...well, I was not impressed. There is a new security chamberlain now; Palkris the stupid wolf had an unfortunate accident. He will not be missed; not like a Royal Prince would. Of course, at first I was concerned that you had divined the importance of the Royal Stallions and were seeking to use them against me and to build your own power base. It seems I gave you too much credit; but that is not a bad thing. You are still young. Old enough to feel your cock tingling, not old enough to plot like a King."

"So what are you going to do Father?" The prince worked hard to put the right tones in his voice, while secretly feeling a slight relief. Perhaps his father did not know it all yet. Maybe he had a chance.

It seemed to work, as the Royal Countenance had split into a grin now, and the King nodded to the chamberlain. Taris sniffed the air. Horse...young, potent virile...

"Now it is time for the demonstration I think."

He heard the whinny before he turned his head. He knew the whinny though, so it was only a limited surprise when he saw his father's favourite stallion being led into the room.

Vannik was naked, magnificently naked. His gold trimmed loincloth had already been removed, revealing his body in all its perfect masculine grace, the long lines of his limbs, the graceful swell of muscles, the large genitals hanging below a delicious plump sheath. Pure silver shimmering coat, black mane and tail and feathering, wide gold eyes. The coat drew the eye though; it looked like real silver, a flowing waterfall of treasure. He was a purebred Akhal, and the most beautiful of the Royal Stallions. At nineteen, he had already graced the King's bedchamber on more nights than any other.

The stallion stared but remained quiet, eyes wide as he took in the scene. His body screamed alert though, ears twitching and nose flaring as he tried to read the room from its scent. He picked up the fear coming from Taris, and he almost trotted to the young lion's side to comfort him before he remembered himself. Still, the King saw, and his frown was impressive.

"I see you two are acquainted."

Taris ground his muzzle shut and nodded once.

"Thought so. As you have taken it upon yourself to sample my studs without permission, I thought I needed to hasten your education son. An education in handling a stallion, for your pleasure. And his, if you so desire, but entirely at your whim. Now...we start with Vannik. I suppose I should be angry, but a part of me is proud Taris. You chose well, when you started your play. Vannik is magnificent isn't he son."

"Y...yes father. I...we..."

"Hmm...I have some of it on holofilm Taris, so you need not complete that sentence. Still, it was apparent from what I did see that you have very little idea on how to handle one of these. Time for you to learn I think."

The young lion felt his whole body on fire now. The scent of aroused stallion was thick even in the great chamber, and he could see the sweat glistening on Vannik's coat. He flared his nostrils a little, drinking in more of that scent, the sweet musk of a virile stallion in his prime. The first time he had Vannik...ahh, now that was a memory. He barely lasted a minute thanks to his excitement, but the stud had been eager for more.

Now he could only look on as his father circled the nervous stallion slowly. The chamberlain waited impassively to one side, and the guard bulls looked bored. He could tell they were interested though; their tails gave them away. And one had a noticeable bulge in his loincloth.

Somehow that little detail enabled him to clamp down on his nervousness and begin to enjoy the prospect of some play with Vannik. If even the royal Bull guard couldn't contain their excitement, what hope did a teenage lion have?

"So Taris. Have you touched a stallion before?"

The prince shook his head in surprise. What kind of a question was that?

"Ahh...yes...of course..."

"No Taris. I mean really touched. Explored with your touch, your fingers, your claws. Made a full and satisfying meal even just from touch. Have you done that?"

Now he was intrigued, if a little bored. He had gotten enough moans and whinnies from the studs, he thought he knew how to touch more than...

"Think I'm full of it don't you Taris."

The young lion had succumbed to his greed, and reached for another Gerenta fruit. He stopped in mid peel ...now his expression was wide eyed and appalled.

"Taris Taris Taris. I think I need to give master Draelan a new job. You are too obvious my boy, still. Be honest, you think I am reaching. You think a few stolen trysts with my harem have you an accomplished stud. That is what I need you to unlearn, Taris. You are still a novice; but your education begins again today. Now, come here!"

He obeyed with alacrity. No sense in annoying his royal father any further. Soon the Prince stood beside his former lover, the scent of stallion pungent in his nostrils. Vannik stared straight ahead, wondering and waiting.

"Now son, watch and learn."

The King reached out slowly, running his paw across a perfect expanse of stallion flesh, claws retracted. Barely touching the soft furs, he traced a line across Vannik's chest, then down his belly, playing with each tensed abdominal in turn, then the deep well of his navel. The stallion kept his posture, upright and attentive, eyes wide and ears flat in submission, but otherwise unmoved. The paw kept moving though, down to the lips of Vannik's sheath. That got a reaction, the stallion's nostrils flaring wide and a slight nicker coming from his muzzle.

The older lion just grunted and kept touching, still gentle, now moving his paw over the flanks and rump of his stallion. His stud was well, trained; Vannik raised his tail without orders, and tensed but did not resist when a finger circled his fat tailhole. The King was in a talkative mood now, and as he continued his exploration, suddenly letting his claws extend to dig into a sensitive stallion perineum, he kept up a commentary for his awed son.

"Have you seen the stallions of the plains in their own lands Taris? No?" And then he dug one claw into the middle of Vannik's sensitive taint, drawing single drop of blood. The stallion's eyes widened, and he gave his first nicker.

" I will have to take you on my next Royal Progress. It is fascinating, and exciting. They are primitive, in many ways, but magnificent nonetheless." He brought his claw to his lips, savouring the taste, before returning to an exploration, now rasping his clawtips across the mounds of a muscled stallion rump.

"A young stallion like Vannik here has an interesting life. The herd stallions take many mares for themselves, and let only the biggest and strongest studs take mares under their herd and usually more than one each for the lucky stallions. It means there are many mature or semi-mature stallions in a herd who are yet not allowed a mare. They spend their lives with their fellow stallions almost exclusively, the herd stallion is too wise to let them near mares or fillies. Instead, they prepare for the day they hopefully are allowed to mate."

"In the mean time, they learn how to be warriors, and stallions. They spend every day in competition with their fellow males from puberty until mating, always fighting, wrestling, striving as well as working for the herd. And fucking...yes, the games are serious, and the winners take their fill of the vanquished."

That drew a gasp from the young lion.

"Yes, impressive is an understatement son. Imagine a herd like Dalith's, where Vannik here was selected for tribute as a colt. A hundred eligible stallions and older colts, testing themselves against each other every day. A typical stallion would expect to mount or be mounted by his fellow stallions at least four times a day. Imagine that; one huge freewheeling wrestle and orgy of stallion mating going on every day right there in front of you. Big studs colliding, grunting, screaming out their whinnies of triumph then mounting helpless compatriots and filling their tailholes. It sounds barbaric but it is...so beautiful to watch."

The Prince had to nod; at the very least, it made his balls ache and his cock poke from its sheath even further just imagining watching that. And as King, what he could command...

"And they are surprisingly tender, Taris." Now the King matched his words with actions, licking the neck of the helpless stallion, while gentle fingers played with his sheath, stroking the very tip of his sheathlips while his other hand circled the ridge of a well-trained equine tailhole in loving slow motions.

"When the winner takes his prize, it is harsh and punishing at first, but it soon becomes loving and pleasuring. The idea is to make your conquest cum as many times as possible; it is considered bad form not to, a matter of shame for the stallion. And afterwards, ahh they always nuzzle and groom and stroke each other, reinforcing the herd bonds that may be lost in the heat of combat. There are never any ill feelings, only respect and loving. And then the next one, and the next...all day. The scent of horse seed is so strong, you can cut it with a knife."

"The secret is in their bodies. A stallion exists for sex, and mating, and fighting. They are hard, as well as tender. A stallion is a creature of pure sensuality, as well as brute strength. They need it when they love as much as the power. And it means their bodies are alive with nerves and sensation, nerves that are so beautiful to play with, sensations that are sublime. And we get to play them like our own fine instrument. A stallion like Vannik here is a work of art. You don't fuck him, you play him like a lyre."

The King was behind the stallion now, who had stood still through a long slow touching with fingerpads and claws, only flicking his ears and mane occasionally. His tail still rode high, and now the King had his paws on the stallion's rump again.

"Go on Taris. Try him out. Start with the nipples."

The young Prince was startled out of his thoughts, and hesitated a moment before obeying. It seemed a straightforward enough proposition.

Bending forward, he let his muzzle close on one perfect nub. The stallion had a pair of fine large pink nipples, surrounded by broad flat brown areolae that stood out invitingly against the shiny silver of his coat. Taris had already enjoyed some suckling, and the stallion had voiced his approval well and truly. With practiced ease, he closed his lips and sucked, slowly bobbing on the left nipple as it swelled under his touch.

It seemed this was not good enough for the King though.

"Enough!"

The Prince backed off, surprised and blinking.

"Basic, aren't you Taris. Now, try it again, but this time do what I say. Now, lick everywhere but the nipple itself. Let him anticipate, almost but not quite..."

Taris felt inwardly chagrined, but he bent forward quickly, eager to try again. He had forgotten how good that nipple felt in his muzzle and he wanted any excuse for more. This time, he did as his father said, playfully licking the areolae, letting his tongue come within an achingly small gap of the erect flesh of a stallion nipple but never quite touching. The stallion began to sweat, and his mane flicked as he fought for control.

"My apologies Vannik. You are permitted to react. That was thoughtless of me."

The stallion gave a whinny of appreciation before relaxing imperceptibly. Now as the Prince lapped at his chest, he let out a series of soft groans, light whickers and gasps, but he remained upright and rigid, a stallion under control of his master.

"They are superbly trained Taris. If ordered to remain impassive,they will do so. And they will only cum on command. You should see the training son. A young trainee stud is tied to the licking frame, with one fellow stud's muzzle on his tailhole, one on his cock, and one on his nipples. He must learn to last from sunrise to midday without reaching climax before he is permitted to leave the training harem. It is an arduous process, but they learn control as well as pleasuring. Very useful...as I am sure you have found."

The Prince gave a slightly embarrassed meow, but kept on with his task. He had found a spot on the inside of each nipple where the stallion was at his most sensitive, and lapped hungrily drinking in the beads of sweat that began to form. Every new lick now drew a soft whicker from the stud, and a shudder through his muscled frame. He let his paw reach for the sheath so very near, but drew back at the last second. His father gave an amused chuckle

"Of course you can touch...they like as much stimulation as possible, from everywhere at once. On a stallion's foaling day, six of his fellows will pleasure him with their muzzles from dawn to dusk. Six studs to one lucky recipient...two lions shouldn't tax his control one little bit."

The Prince felt his cock stirring, and he loosened his pants slightly as he went about his task. He found he was enjoying taking his time, no longer worried about discovery. He could explore at his leisure, and he found new delights in a stallion's sheath. His paw cupped the heavy fleshy mass and rubbed once, slowly, as his tongue finally flicked the tip of Vannik's left nipple. He was rewarded with a full throated whinny, the first, and a smile from his father.

"Keep it up son. And I think I should join in..."

Taris felt the stallion give a sudden shudder, and his eyes widened before closing partially, control returning. But he hadn't been able to totally mask his reaction to the first penetration from the royal paw, a pair of thick powerful lion fingers parting his pucker and sliding in just to the tip. The King let his muzzle rest against Vannik's neck, licking the tightly corded muscle playfully as he edged his fingers deeper into a musky tunnel.

"Now you can get rougher son. Use your claws."

"Claws? Where..."

"Nipples...sheath...they love it. Play with his nipple and his sheathlips, you will hear some whinnies then."

The emboldened lion prince grinned evilly at his lover. There was a silent plea in those shining eyes, but he chose to ignore it for now, and toyed with one well licked and aroused nipple. Left first...it was the most swollen, and the most aroused. He extended his foreclaw and pressed it into the tip of Vannik's nipple, while he extended all the claws on his other paw and raked them down the length of the stallion's sheath. Now the whinnies were loud, just as his father said.

"Go ahead...pierce it."

"What?!"

"Run his nipple through with your claw. Claim the stallion...he won't resist."

Taris waited for several heartbeats, expecting either his father or the stallion to stop him. When neither happened, he felt a surge of power overcome him, the pure erotic pleasure of controlling a magnificent male like Vannik. He pushed his sharp claw against the side of the stallion's pink nub, watching as the flesh resisted, bending in as the stallion let out short complaining nickers, then suddenly the skin gave way and he felt his claw push in quickly, then slow as he kept on pressing penetrating and gouging deep into nerve-rich flesh. He looked up to see the stallion biting his lips with eyes closed, his muzzle shaking. Taris groaned, and his cock spurted a large drop of pre, and he shook all over like the stallion until he saw the shining point of his claw emerge from the other side, followed by a trickle of blood

"Now drink it..."

Panting harshly, Taris pulled the claw from Vannik, staring at the red liquid on his claw before suckling it hungrily into his muzzle. It tasted sweet and harsh, metallic and rough, and he wanted more. He latched onto the wounded nipple with his muzzle, sucking as much of the precious fluid as he could get, tongue and lips milking the abused flesh as the stallion struggled for control before crying out as a sharp incisor found the same hole and widened it painfully with one deep bite.

He jacked the stallion's sheath, feeling it pulse with life, plump and heavy, but there was no feel of cock to revel in. He pulled off the stallion's chest, leaving the gasping horse struggling for breath as his pectorals danced, little droplets of blood marking the silver coat with a pattern of pain.

"Why isnt he erect father?"

"You have not commanded him son."

"Commanded?"

"Yes. A Royal Stallion waits for the command to drop. Until then, his cock remains in its sheath, even if it is filling with blood. Uncomfortable, but an important sign of obedience. A stud's cock belongs to his master; it is his master's to command."

"Should I let him?"

The King laughed now, and licked luxuriously along the nape of Vannik's neck. He rammed his fingers in hard now, and the stallion struggled but relented.

"Perhaps not yet son. There is another delight you need to learn. An aroused stallion's sheath is a real valley of delight. Scent and taste and feel. You can probably smell him already."

Taris opened his nostrils wide, drinking it in. It made him meow and roar just from the scent, so potent and delicious. Now his cock was fully hard and leaking, but he dare not let it out before the King.

"Try this. Vannik...lift your arms."

The stallion obeyed, lifting his hands and entwining them in his mane. His deep arm pits opened wide, with a delightful dusting of silver/gold hairs that glistened with sweat.

"Now explore."

In a trance, Taris bent forward. His wide open nostrils almost recoiled at the rich deep scent of stallion, the sweat-filled musk of young stud. It felt almost indecent, and he blushed under his fur even as he sniffed. He couldn't resist though, opening his muzzle wide to lick at the deep cavern of Vannik's pit, tasting and smelling and filling his brain with sex. He lapped hungrily, even as the stallion moaned at the feeling, and ignored his pleading as he playfully pulled out a few hairs with his teeth.

"Now try exploring his sheath with your fingers."

Lion muzzle never left the deep aromatic cave of stallion flesh he had found, but his fingers were already cupping the stallion's sheath, so he knew where to go without looking. He found the gaping sheathlips with his fingertips, before sliding them inside the hot wet depths until he found a pulsing mass of stallion flesh in the way. There was fluid everywhere; his fingers came out dripping, and he finally turned his head from the pleasures of stallion pit long enough to marvel.

"Taste..."

Hungrily he licked, sampling the tang of stallion precum. Excitement in liquid form. His body burned.

"Good isn't it."

"Ohhh yes father."

"Wrong! Barely interesting. Get back in there, but don't withdraw this time."

Chastened, the young lion slid his fingers back inside, until they touched the quivering tip of the stallion's cock again.

"Now, this time, go deeper."

"Deeper?"

"Yes, slide your fingers under the meat of his cock and against his sheath. Plunge in as far as you can go. Do it!"

The Prince wasn't so sure, but he hastened to obey, even as the stallion stiffened. He managed to push his fingers between cock and skin, roughly ramming in deep even as Vannik squirmed. He was determined to prove himself to his father though, so he kept at it until he felt his fingers suddenly coated in thick liquid and he stroked the base of Vannik's cock.

"Ohhhhhh..."

"Feels good doesn't it Taris. Now pull your fingers out."

Reluctantly, the Prince obeyed. Now his fingers were coated in a thick sheen of slick fluid, and as he brought them to his nose he almost fainted. Pure sex filled musk, essence of stallion. He reached out the tip of his pink tongue to sample, and the taste made his head swim.

"Now feed our stallion one finger. One only mind you..."

Lost in a trance, he looked at the stallion, still standing obediently with his hands laced in his mane. Vannik's eyes glazed over as the kitty finger approached, and his lips trembled. Taris smeared the thick fluid on his lips, and pressed his finger hard against the yielding lips. They opened, and a hot tongue lapped at his pad, while the stallion groaned.

"Excellent. Now, the last best use for stallion sheath musk. Come around here, behind him."

The aroused Prince now stood admiring his stallion from behind. It was a highly charged view, the muscles straining as he stood rigid with arms raised. His back formed a perfect V shape, every muscle group outlined, down to the magnificent rounded mounds of stallion ass. A shiny black tail formed a cascade of night lifted high against his back, exposing a long black crevice of velvet, one big muscled tailhole, a long soft perineum, and a pair of heavy testicles.

"I think you know what to do son..."

Grinning, the Prince nodded. He pressed his slickened fingers against that thick donut and pressed, and felt every perfect moment of that tailhole taking his fingers, the spread of muscle, the twitch of sensitive skin, the heat and the pressure as the stallion's tunnel closed imperfectly around his digits and he sawed in and out while the stallion opened his stance to take the penetration easier. It felt incredible, almost as good as his cock had filling this same stallion in the Rose pavilion the first time. The heat and the pressure had proved too much and he seeded so quick, but now he could savour with his fingers as the stallion's own musk made his penetration impossible to resist even had he wanted to.

"Can you find his prostate?"

"I think so."

"Know so. I want you to find it for me."

The young lion gritted his muzzle in concentration, and slid his fingers around experimentally. Finally he found a spot that seemed promising, a nub of flesh that reacted when he pressed. He pressed again, and the stallion's anus suddenly clenched hard.

"Good. Now, Vannik...drop for me."

The stallion let out a thankful whinny and his cock suddenly shot from his sheath. It was already semi-hard from all the stimulation, and as the Prince fondled his nut, he felt his cock spread and swell to full erection, a majestic pillar or horseflesh. The tip drooled, and his urethra spread and pushed forward like a straw, the flare pulsing angrily.

"Now I will show you the power of control son. I want you to pleasure my stallion with your fingers, and I will do the same. And he will not climax; not until I grant him permission. Which I may not...after all, there is the little matter of his disobedience with you to be dealt with. And I will deal with it..."

Taris was too far gone to hear the warning and the steel in those words. All he could concentrate on was the heat of the stallion's ass around his fingers. He had found the magic spot, and it fascinated him every time he touched it now. He slid a third finger into the depths of that ass, spreading them wide at the knuckle, and rapped the soft spongy nut in a gentle needful rhythm as the stallion began to squirm and shake.

"Harder Taris..."

The Prince needed no encouragement. He roared as he felt the tight anus contracting painfully on his paw, the fingertips spread to rub each side of the stallion's sore prostate now, and he rested against the body before him. He sniffed, enjoying the sweaty scent of stallion in heat, and licked, this time along Vannik's neck. It tasted so good...and then he bit.

Vannik felt his ass warming, and a fog of pleasure descend that filled his whole body. The constant pressure on his prostate felt too good, and then the young lion began to nibble his neck. He genuinely liked Taris, and the feel of the teenage lion inside him was one of his fondest pleasures. Now he struggled for control again, and found himself losing the battle as the King began his own pleasuring. There was a reason of course...one that he shuddered to remember. He had to resist...but with every new touch on his already needy prostate, he felt his training failing.

The King felt his stallion in a turmoil, but did not think he would disobey. He cupped the heavy scrotum, feeling the delicious weight and the feel of rolling stallion balls as he stroked the underside then cupped and squeezed. He knew Vannik liked rough handling, and he enjoyed giving it to him. He squeezed harder, and used his claw on the pillar of horseflesh, finding the wide open urethra and sounding it with one claw while his palm stroked the flare. The stallion whinnied loud, stamping his hooves to try and resist a little longer.

Taris felt it first, the strong rhythmic contractions of Vannik's anus on his paw. The soft tail suddenly began to slap his chest and belly, and he bit hard on his neck in excitement, drawing blood. That was the final straw for Vannik, and he screamed out a terrified whinny as his cock began spewing forth a torrent of horse seed over the King's paw and onto the ground at his hooves, spurt after spurt of rich thick stallion seed in a constant outpouring of bodily disobedience he could not prevent. When it was over he stood there panting with his eyes down and ears flat, waiting for the worst.

"Well father...it looks like this one might need more training..."

The King was too angry to bite back. Instead, he pulled Vannik's arms down and entwined the mortified stallion's mane with his own paw, pulling the stud's head up and commanding him to look.

Vannik opened terrified eyes to look into the King's. Wide open golden equine eyes pleaded. For mercy, forgiveness, anything.

"Vannik...did I give permission..."

"No Sire!"

"Vannik, why could you not hold on?"

"I...I don't know Sire. Honestly! It...the Royal Prince felt too good, and you...I couldn't..."

"Hmmm....we shall see...you have shamed me Vannik, in front of my own son. That is not something I forgive easily. Kneel, horse!"

The stallion was whimpering now, his head shaking in desperate attempt at apology. He knelt, humbly, his head down and muzzle pressed to the floor, tail splayed on the marble. The Prince was affected by the display, and bent down to stroke his lover's mane, trying to comfort the horse as he turned to look at his father.

"You like him, don't you son."

"Yes father. Please...I know it is your decision, but do not punish him too far."

"We shall see. Perhaps it is time for you to have a servant of your own..."

The Prince suddenly stopped still at that. He dare not say a word, or make a gesture, but inside his whole being sang. His father's most prized stud...for himself. The possibility intoxicated him.

"Let me see how good he is with you. Let him suck you."

The young lion gave a sudden start.

"Let him what my lord?"

"Let him have your cock, let me see if he is worthy."

Taris blushed hard, but his cock spurted harder. He stared into his father's eyes, seeking out any hint as to whether this was some test. The Royal Countenance was impassive as always. Eventually heat conquered fear and embarrassment, and the young lion slowly dropped his pants, letting a red raw erect cock spring into the air. His tip pulsed in seed, dripping like the stallion had, the barbs twitching as his cock flexed with his heartbeat.

"Good. Now use him."

Overcome with need now, Taris wrapped his paw in the stallion's mane. Vannik was still prostrate with fear, his head shaking, and it took all of Taris' strength to haul his head up until a warm stallion muzzle was lined up with aching kitty cock. He bucked his hips, hard, slapping the stallion in the muzzle. Vannik clenched his muzzle shut, even when the Prince angrily pulled hard on his mane and rammed his cock against those warm inviting lips.

The King grunted.

"Maybe worthy after all."

"I do not understand father."

"I have not released him yet. He is awaiting my command, as he should. A loyal stallion servant still. Vannik, pleasure my son, and obey his commands."

Now the stallion obeyed, willingly, needfully. Warm lips engulfed the lion's overheated cock, and Taris let out a long deep sigh as his length was drenched in heat. Lips slid down his length, while a long and mobile tongue lapped at his tip and slipped under his length to massage the urethra. He felt his orgasm growing, and it built fast once a big stallion hand cupped his scrotum and fondled with an expert touch.

Taris felt his father beside him, watching, waiting. The King lifted his son's paw to his nostrils and sniffed, then let out a grunt.

"Ahhhhh Vannik...Vannik my sweet stallion..."

The Prince was too lost to care, only feeling the incredible sensation of an experienced stud stallion on his cock. One more bob of Vannik's beautiful head and he felt his length fully engulfed, complete in the delicious warmth of a stallion muzzle. He roared appreciatively, and his cock jerked on the edge.

"And I wonder if you have betrayed me too son..."

Suddenly, the Prince felt his tail lifted, and a heavy paw pressed against his tight pucker. He let out a scream of need as he felt his tailhole spread and the King suddenly thrust two fingers into his tunnel, delving deep into his hole and roughly spreading his pucker as he fingered him into climax.

Taris lay his head back and let out a deep throaty lion roar, a roar of pleasure and triumph as he conquered a stallion muzzle with his cock, absolutely and totally, thrusting wildly in his climax as he sprayed lion seed over and over into the willing muzzle of his stud. Heat filled his cock, his balls, his clenching hole, and all he could feel was pure pleasure as his father's claws suddenly scraped his nut and drew a second screaming orgasm from him to fill a greedy stallion gut. His cock went hypersensitive, and he pulled the stallion off roughly, hurting him in the process, but he didn't care. He felt immortal, for a few brief moments as his body bathed in post orgasm bliss.

"You both disappoint me in so many ways. I don't know which of you more, you Taris or you Vannik."

The two lovers suddenly turned to face the King, the stallion still on his knees, the Prince standing but with his pants around his ankles. He saw the expression on his royal father's face though, and it made his blood run cold. He snatched at his pants, trying to drag them up as he backed slowly until he stood behind the stallion.

"You first Vannik. Tell me, which of my bull guard is it."

Vannik stared in horror, shaking his head.

"Father, what are you talking about?"

"Son, you will learn many things if you are able to survive long enough in spite of your stupidity. One is the unique scent and taste of bull semen. It is distinctive, and pungent. It was all over your fingers, after you had fingered Vannik's hole."

The Prince stared at his paw for a second before lifting it to his muzzle for a lick. There was something there...something that wasn't horse, anyway.

"So, Vannik. I assume that was why you couldn't hold on. One of my guard at least has been sampling the delights of a Royal Stallion; recently enough that you were already well on the boil when you were brought in. My son is bad enough; but my guard are expressly forbidden, on pain of castration or worse from interfering with the studs. They cannot be trusted to guard them otherwise. Which was it Vannik. Tell me."

The stallion shook his head sadly, still pleading with his eyes. The King sighed a long sigh and turned to his son.

"And you Taris."

The lion made a gesture of supplication.

"Father, I am sorry for fucking the studs. But I thought we had gotten past that!"

"Yes, we had. But I had suspicions, my son. Suspicions I needed to confirm. And when I fingered your hole just then, I found something too. Not bull semen though...horse."

Taris stood stock still, though his heart beat wildly. They were caught.

"Yes son. You know, as do my studs. A Royal tailhole is inviolate. Only one of Royal blood may fuck a Royal Prince. It is treason to try. But one of my studs, one of my personal harem, has been there and plucked your cherry anyway. I don't care if you begged, ordered, pleaded, damn it I don't care if you tortured him and tied him up and mounted his cock like a slut. He should not have. So who was it Taris."

Now it was the turn of the lion Prince to shake his head silently.

"Will you tell me Vannik? Was it you, my twice disloyal stallion?"

Vannik stared, trembling in fear. The King sighed again, and shook his own head.

"Chamberlain Parget, bring me guard Captain N'khard, and head stallion Rothistan. And have them meet me in the Royal questioning room."

There was a meow, and a nicker of fear.

"Father! Please!"

Another shake of the head from the King.

"Son, do not fear. It is merely another demonstration for you. For your little horse though...it might prove much more painful. A demonstration of the need for loyalty...which includes answering my questions, even when the answers may be bad for you. A good lesson for you my son. An overdue one for Vannik, it seems."

The stallion felt two guard bulls behind him, and the Prince felt his own pair. The ones behind Vannik, put cuffs on the helpless horse, his merely acted as escort. But he was under no illusions about the difference in their situations. It was merely a matter of degree.

He watched the proud back of the stallion ahead of him as they were marched down a corridor. And all the way he tried to work out how to get them out of this mess, and how to save his true love. He had not found a way though by the time they reached the Royal questioning room. Taris had to laugh at that, even though this situation was anything but funny.

A suitably banal name for a torture chamber. And this would be his first time inside. The King seemed to sense his thoughts again.

"About time you were introduced to this room Taris. Another lesson my son, in the craft of Kingship. Welcome to my own little pleasure dome."