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The Vixen Princess

Life was mostly good.

That's a little bleak, I suppose, but it's honest. I understand things were a little better before our little Duchy got taken over by King Yliter the Fox and his horde of anthro mercenaries, but that was a long time ago and I hadn't been born yet. My parents used to tell horrors about the carnage they inflicted, but now, things were...okay.

I was a mere palace servant, a poorly paid and dull job, but I was not a slave. I mean, I couldn't exactly just quit and leave, but I still wasn't a slave! And I lived and worked inside King Yliter's palace, the safest place a man could be, second-class citizen or not! His guards, mostly foreign dogs and wolves, kept us safe, even though they gave us a hard time sometimes.

And best of all, I had a girlfriend. She was a scribe as well, pretty much the best job a human could hope for in the palace. She even had her own personal room, something I'd never imagine having in my entire life here.

So yeah, life was mostly good. It could be better, a lot better in fact, but it was mostly good and I didn't expect that to change.

The day began like any other. I awoke at the crack of dawn to the sounds of Old Seamus, the head servant, banging a pot and pan together as he marched through the bunk-room. Like every other day, I wished that the old ghoul would drop dead already, but I quickly composed myself and began getting dressed. This was just a fact of life, one of many things that we had no control over.

Our uniform was completely white, save for a black sash tied around our waist. It was a tightly-fit robe that slipped across our shoulders and trailed to our knees, where a pair of matching trousers ran down our legs towards our shining, black leather shoes. Not a stain was to be upon our clothes, nor a scuff upon our shoes, and Old Seamus would check to make sure of it, lining us up and staring us down with his one good eye. The nobles despised seeing dirt on their servants or any foul odors that only their noses could detect, and often delighted in giving ironic punishments to those who let the standards slip, such as forcing them to spend the night in a pigsty.

For what it was worth, I liked the outfit and donned it each morning like an officer donning his uniform. Old Seamus never found a single stain on my clothes, nor did any of the nobles. I had a perfect record that I was a little proud of, which caused some of my fellow servants to refer to me as a “Brown-noser," or a “Noble's pet," but I was none of those things, I merely liked to keep my head down, which led to a more comfortable and stable life.

Old Seamus's vein on the side of his forehead nearly burst when he stopped at the final servant: Young Seamus, his youngest son, of which he had far too many. The old man ordered the rest of us to get to work while he began a roaring tirade against his son for having a tear in the armpit of his robes, threatening that if he doesn't have it sewn up within ten minutes, he'd sew his mouth shut. Poor kid.

After the roll-call was over, we were assigned our jobs for the day. I was in luck, I was assigned to clean the hallways outside the royal apartments. Most people unfamiliar with the job might think that this was a high stakes job, but it really wasn't. The nobles were often out and about at this time of day or sleeping in, so they would never notice if I was a bit late, nor would they care, so long as their suites were clean, but they had dedicated personal servants for that. The personal guards outside the apartments were professional, quiet and disciplined wolves raised from birth to be elite guards, they never harassed us servants like some of the others. Best of all, it gave me a chance to stop by and meet Rosemary.

My mop as my sword and my bucket as my shield, I emerged from the dim candlelight of the servant's bunkhouse and into the dull rays of the early morning sun. The anthros seemed to like getting up earlier than most humans and pairs of green and yellow dots reflected off around the courtyard, making it look like I was surrounded by hungry predators, which wasn't necessarily false.

I made my way to the side entrance to the main hall, pausing to bow as a noble fox burst out, dragging a naked human behind by a leather leash. The fox kicked him to the dirt and lashed at him with a short whip, cracking across his back. I stared in awe as the slave cried and begged for mercy from his master. He didn't try and fight back, the whip continued slapping violently against him, turning his back bright red, but it never broke the skin. There was no doubt what kind of slave this human was, if his master was using a whip that kept his skin smooth and unblemished. Any lingering doubt was dashed even further when the human crawled to his knees and the noble began undoing his breeches, revealing the tip of a red cock peeking out of a sheath surrounded with cream fur. I couldn't help imagine myself in his position, at the mercy of someone with so much power, and my own trousers began to feel stiff in the crotch area.

The fox glared at me with a snarl and raised the whip. I bowed in apology and shuffled off into the doorway, never catching an inch of the lash. I was good at keeping my head down, very good. I was not a slave, I was a servant. I was a free man. The anthros ruled us, but they didn't own me.

The halls were narrow and dank, with one a few solitary candles lying atop sconces on the wooden walls being the only source of light. They were meant for servants to get around without disturbing the nobles, but the nobles often used them for covert liaisons as well, much like the fox and his slave outside.

Entering into the library was like stepping into a different world. You could feel the air change tone, it was now dry and warm, for the library had hundreds of candles burning brightly, many hanging from iron chandeliers that a human clinging onto a tall ladder leaning against the bookshelf was replacing with fresh candles. Despite being early in the morning, the room was as bright as mid-day and the room was full of the whispers of quills on paper as the many scribes, mostly human, sat at their desks and wrote copies of poems and histories.

Rosemary stood out like a sore thumb among the scribes, she was drop-dead gorgeous, with short-brown hair tied up in a bun at the back. Despite her looks, she was quite shy, in the most adorable way. She was not the only woman working there, indeed the room was almost half female, but she was by far the youngest and the prettiest. However, she was not working like the others, in fact, she was wringing her hands together, anxiously staring at stack of papers with writing on them.

I crept up behind her and planted a kiss on her cheek, causing her to jump in shock.

“Danny!" she shrieked, slapping me across the chest before turning away from me in a huff. “You jerk!"

An old scribe glared across the room and shushed her, obnoxiously pressing his finger to his lips.

“Rosie?" I asked, placing my bucket on the ground as I hugged her from behind with one arm. “What's wrong?"

“I have a lot of work to do, okay!?" she whispered in a harsh tone. “We've received a lot of requests for diplomatic letters and, my god, the upcoming visit by the Musil Kingdom, there's just so many things that need to be sent out and the Princess has been wanting a copy of a poem, which I only just completed, a day late!" Rosemary breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself down. “She's going to have me thrown out, or worse!"

“Come on!" I whispered, rubbing my nose against her cheek like the anthros often did to their lovers. “It's not that bad!"

“You know how the Princess is!"

“Tell you what, I'm cleaning the hallways outside the apartments. I know the girl who does the Princesses' room, I'll get her to slip it in and she'll say it arrived last night."

Rosemary looked back at me over her shoulder, her blue eyes watering, “But what if…?"

“No what ifs, okay? Trust me, it'll all work out fine and you'll be in the clear!"

“Okay, okay, okay," Rosemary nervously shuffled out papers from the stack, forming a new stack that somehow looked just as big as the old one despite having less pages. She delicately passed them to me and I grabbed them.

“This is a poem?" I asked, staring at the thick pile I was holding. “I thought poems were supposed to be short!"

Rosemary chuckled, “Oh, Danny!"

“I mean, not that I can read or anything, but I can try and make heads or tails of this," I squinted at the characters scribbled on the pages. One word stuck out at me. “Cock!"

The scribes all stared at me with an intense hatred. Rosemary on the other hand, settled for humiliated outrage, jaw hanging open in surprise and her cheeks burning bright red.

“I, uh, I get the feeling this poem isn't talking about a rooster, is it?"

“Just go! Please!"

“Love you!"

She sighed and blew me a kiss as I tucked the sheets in my armpit and picked up my mop and bucket. I would have caught it, had I any hands free.

“And be careful with it!" she called back at me just before I slinked back into the servant's tunnels.

There was nothing for Rosemary to worry about and nothing for me either. Around this time of day, the Princess would be out hunting or mingling with the other nobles, activities they loved doing so early in the morning. I didn't understand it, but it meant this would be an easy job, chances are the Princess hadn't even noticed the poem wasn't delivered yet.

I began ascending a narrow, spiral staircase, leaning against the outer wall of it with my shoulder. Pausing, I listened carefully for any footsteps or claws clacking on the stone floor, but heard nothing. The last thing I needed now was to step aside on the staircase in favor of a noble, there was no way in hell I could do that with all the things I was holding and not spill either the water in my bucket, the poem, or both.

At the top of the staircase was a short hallway where a brown, unassuming wooden door stood that lead to the royal apartments. Two guards stood at attention, both dark-brown dogs with short fur and ears flopping down from under their iron caps. They each wore a cuirass of boiled, lamellar leather and had steel halberds leaning against their shoulders. Their brown eyes locked on me as I approached, with the one on the left smiling wickedly.

“Looks like we have a trespasser!" the smiling one laughed, stepping out of rank and slipping behind me as I walked forward. I shivered when I felt the cold of his nose brush against my cheek.

“I'm here to clean the hallways of the apartments," I said, standing perfectly still while they examined me.

Hot breath swept against the back of my neck, followed by the moist leather of the guard's nose. He was smelling me, it was how they detected lies. Well, that wasn't entirely true, they couldn't smell lies, but they could smell anxiousness and if they did, they'd feel perfectly justified in ruling that the human is lying, whether they're nervous because they're saboteurs or because they're scared of the beast-people wielding weapons. It didn't matter to them.

But I wasn't nervous, not even when a gloved hand grabbed my crotch and rubbed at it, feeling it up. The guards liked to give us a hard time but I learned not to take it personally.

Sharp teeth gently nipped at the back of my neck before the guard pulled back and stepped in front of me, waving me in while his companion pushed the door open. I didn't hesitate for a second and continued through the door, jumping a little bit when one of their paws slapped me on the ass as I passed them.

It could have been worse. There were plenty of servants who were forced to humiliate themselves at the guard's whims. The very first week I had the job, I caught two guards forcing a washer-woman to suck their cocks, pretending that she didn't have the right to pass them.

I was now in the Royal apartments, where the Royal Guards ruled, and they didn't tolerate such shenanigans. I could do my job in peace and complete Rosemary's task in peace.

Especially since the apartment halls were empty. I just about pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. Normally, there'd be at least two guards by each family member's door at all times, with teams of patrols pacing the corridor. There was no way to get in here without being within an arm's reach of an elite anthro guard at any point in time.

But now, it was empty. Every footstep I made echoed down the smooth, stone hallways. I nearly jumped whenever I heard the wall tapestries flutter with the wind pouring in from the narrow slit windows. I passed doors and kept waiting to hear a noise inside or a bark of indignation, to have the guards summoned and apprehend me for questioning. I had every right to be here, but it didn't feel that way right now.

Even King Yliter's room was unguarded. If I was a rebel, I could have slipped inside the massive, ornate door guarding his chambers and hid in there, waiting for the fox to come in drunk and strangle him in his sleep. It would have been that easy. Part of me wanted to place my hands on the door, on the snarling, iron fox head that was the door knob, and cracked it open to have a peek. I resisted the urge, for all I knew Yliter himself could be in there and he was not a fox you wanted to disturb.

Princess Ylita's room approached at the end of the hallway and I placed my bucket and mop against the wall. Like her Father's, there was a carving engraved in the dark wood of the door, of a young vixen placing the tip of her nose in a flower that she held between her claws. Carefully, I leaned against the door, cupping my hand around my ear to listen: silence.

The Princesses' cleaner wasn't here yet. This was good. In truth, I had lied to Rosemary, I barely knew the cleaner and it was extremely unlikely that she would have accepted the poem and not mentioned that it was delivered late to the Princess. I could slip in and out without anyone being the wiser.

I placed my hand on the doorknob, this one a wolf's head that was smiling uneasily with a full row of teeth. Peering behind me, I saw nothing but an empty, drafty corridor. Gulping, I turned the knob and pushed.

The door creaked violently and once again, my eyes darted back, expecting to find guards closing in on me. I was still alone. I steeled my resolve and pushed the door open just enough to allow me to slip in, shutting the door behind me.

The room was smaller than I imagined, most of the room being taken up by a large bed with disheveled, ocean-blue sheets and a matching canopy above it. Thick, white curtains trailed from the canopy, surrounding the bed on all sides and blowing with the wind that breezed in from the small balcony on the far side of the room that overlooked the courtyard. An oak armoire leaned against the wall next to the balcony doorway and a narrow fireplace on the other side, along with a tall-backed, soft, leather reading chair.

A slightly musty odor hung in the air, the Princesses' personal scent that she, along with the other anthros, covered up with perfumes in public. Many humans considered fox musk to have a rancid scent to it, but I found it nice, it had a personal intimacy to it, like I had my face leaning right into the Princesses' neck, rubbing my nose against it sensually while she caressed my…

I was here for Rosemary, not the Princess. I snapped out of my daydream and looked around for a good place to place the poem. A tiny writing desk was pushed into the corner, three leather-bound books laid atop it stacked upon each other. I wasted no time and placed the papers next to the books.

Outside and into the hall, I heard the distant noise of a door shutting. I froze, peering at the door and listening carefully, hearing a pair of footsteps, a pair at least, were marching down the hallway.

Shit, shit, shit! I cursed to myself, looking around for a place to hide. There was no telling where the guards would check and if I was caught in here, that would be it. I considered the bed, the canopy curtains were thick enough that I probably wouldn't be seen, but then I realized that with the wind breezing through, my scent would be picked up by the anthros and even if it didn't, what if the Princess was among them and decided to take a nap? I'd get worse than death for that, I'd probably be castrated and thrown into an oubliette for the rest of my short life.

There was an armoire leaning against the wall by the balcony. It was my only hope. I crept to it and pulled its tall doors open, revealing a large chamber with dresses hanging from the top. It was just large enough for me to fit in and I tucked myself in, gently closing the doors from the inside until the world went dark.

The clothes were clean but her scent lingered on them, suffocating me. The earthy, musty scent of her musk was intoxicating and now there was no escape from it. I didn't dare move, but in my position, a cotton dress was brushed against my cheek and it felt like I was leaning into the Princess herself. My trousers grew tight as my cock pressed against it and I tried to will it back to sleep.

I nearly gasped when I heard the bedroom door open and two people walked in. One of them spoke in a very familiar voice, one I had heard make many speeches in the great hall before.

“Dear, please be reasonable," King Yliter begged while the other person paced around the room, claws clacking against the stone floor.

“I am being reasonable, Father!" the other voice barked back. It was higher pitched, though all foxes had a whine to their fox, but it was still noticeable. No doubt it was Princess Ylita herself.

“No, you're not! You're throwing a fit because you're not getting what you want!"

“All the other women my age have one! Princess Meira of Musil has countless!"

“And you can buy as many slaves as you want, so long as you pay for them!" Yliter sighed. “You'd be able to if you didn't spend your royal allowance on other frivolous things!"

“Poetry is not frivolous!" she growled, followed by the fluttering of papers. “Why can't you just grab a human from the servants and give him to me?"

“I can't do that."

“Ha!" she laughed, slamming the papers back onto the desk with a loud slap. “What happened to King Yliter, the Bloody Red Fox, who took hundreds of captive women to bed with him? Did you pay for them back then?"

“That..." Yliter cleared his throat, “was a different time. We're at peace now and have to reign magnanimously."

“You're full of shit! Yo-"

“Don't speak like that!"

“Or else what?"

Yliter growled but held him back from snapping at his daughter. There was heavy breathing and after a long pause, he spoke calmly, “You can buy one or you can ask one of the servants IF they agree! That is final!"

The room shook as Yliter stormed out, slamming the door behind him. A heavy thud rang out, followed by pages flapping, Ylita must have thrown one of the books against the door in a rage. She shrieked indignantly and another thud shook the armoire I was hiding in. I wobbled, falling onto the side of my hip inside it.

She didn't seem to notice my movement, but I was now in a very awkward position, with my shoulder leaning against the wall of the armoire. It felt like I could slip at any moment, so I slowly edged back onto my butt. My arm collided with something metallic and hard, that rolled over and thumped against the wall. I bit my lip, cursing myself silently for my stupidity.

The Princess went silent. I expected her to call out for the guards any second now and was already working on a story for why I was hiding in the Princesses' room, none of which were convincing.

A click of claws broke the silence, followed by another, this time closer. She was slowly making her way to the armoire. The doors shuddered as she placed her paws on the handles, hesitating before they were slowly pulled open.

I panicked and my mind sprang towards the first plan it could think of. I grabbed one of the dresses hanging around me and covered up my face and body with it. My justification was that the anthros had stronger noses than eyes and that if I covered myself up with her scented clothes and laid very still, she might not notice. However, it didn't take more than a few seconds before the dress was ripped away, revealing myself.

Princess Ylita stood before me. Her amber eyes were full of confidence as she peered down at me, not at all surprised to find me here. She wore a green dress that hung across her shoulders and trailed down to the floor, covering up her tail and feet; it complimented her fiery, red fur that was long and fine, having had her winter coat grow in. A tiny smile grew on her cream muzzle.

“What have we here?" she clicked her tongue.

“I-I can explain!"

“I don't think you can," she reached down, never keeping her eyes off me, and grabbed the metal object that I had knocked over. It was a smooth, gray, metal sculpture in the shape of a canine's phallus. I blushed, averting my eyes from it.

“I-I was-!"

“Take off your clothes," she fiddled with the tip of the fake phallus, running a black claw along it.

“Princess?" I stared at her in disbelief.

“Tale off your clothes," she repeated, “or I'll call the guards."

“I-I don't under-!"

“Have you got a knife hidden under that uniform?" she snorted. “Guess I should call them..."

She cupped her paws around her muzzle and leaned back towards the door. I stammered, stopping her from continuing.

“Okay, okay! Please, just don't..." I untied the black sash tying my robe to my waist.

“Pass it here," she ordered, pointing the fake cock at me.

I placed the length of the sash across the shaft of the phallus. The Princess pulled it off with her free hand, running her black nose along it, taking in my scent before tossing it behind her.

Next came my robe, which slipped off easily without the sash. Once again, I passed it to her and she examined it with her nose. She breathed in deeper this time, lingering on certain areas.

Finally, my trousers. I shifted them off awkwardly, still sitting on my bottom in the armoire not daring to move, but eventually they came off. Ylita grabbed them with her paw this time and she sniffed it, giving particular attention to the crotch. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply this time, a moment of weakness. Had I been an assassin, this would have been the perfect time to strike.

Goosebumps rose on the surface of my skin and I shivered. A chill, autumn breeze was entering the room and once again, I wished I was able to grow a winter coat.

“You're cold," she said with matching warmth and motioned towards the back of the armoire, “there's something in there for you to wear."

I kept my eyes on her, groping blindly into the opposite corner of the armoire, catching soft fabrics of different kinds, all of which Ylita would shake her head at. Finally, I felt something that was metal, just like the phallus, but it was circular and had a gap in the middle. Ylita nodded.

I retrieved the object and it rattled as an attached chain dragged along the wood. It was a thin, iron collar that had a loop on the front where the chain was attached. A key was sticking out of the back in a keyhole.

“Put it on," she ordered.

Twisting the key, the collar popped open, just wide enough for it to fit around my neck. I placed my neck in the enclosure, the cold iron making me shudder and I closed the collar shut, turning the key with a click.

“Give me the key."

I obliged, taking the tiny key and placing it in her outstretched palm. Suddenly, she grabbed the length of chain and yanked it, forcing me forward and onto the ground.

“It's cold, build me a fire, slave."

“Wait, I'm not-!"

Her feet stomped on my neck, silencing me. Her claws dug into the back of my neck, just strong enough to make me feel it without cutting me.

“You're my slave and we will make it official come the afternoon, but for now, you need to be trained," she pressed her foot harder against my neck, “or I could call the guards and have them entertain me with you, would you prefer that?"

Cold metal pressed against my butt checks and I yelped. She was rubbing the metal canine cock against me, letting me know exactly what she meant by entertainment.

“I-I'll build you a fire, m-mistress."

“Master," she corrected, “it sounds stronger."

“Master."

“You learn fast," she gave a little laugh. The chain rattled as she leaned down and I felt the pads of her palm stroke the side of my cheek, they were as soft as the finest silk linens that her family owned. I closed my eyes as her grip tightened slightly, her claws clutching at the bottom of my jaw gently as the ball of her palm massaged my face. I wasn't surprised when I felt my cock start to harden.

She let go and gave a shake of the chain towards the fireplace. I crawled over to it, keeping my legs tight together to hide my erection, as I had no idea how she would have reacted to that. Ylita followed behind, keeping my leash tight and close to her, walking me like a pet.

There was already tinder and a fresh log in the fireplace. I grabbed a piece of steel and flint lying on a tray next to spare logs and began scraping them, spraying sparks on the scraps of wood. The wood was a little damp from the rain but not soaked, it wasn't impossible to get it lit, but it would take time.

Wood scraped against the stone floor to my right, but before I could turn to have a look I felt a weight thump on my back. The sensation of soft, leathery pads surrounded by a coat of short fuzz gave me an idea of what to expect and I peeked to see Ylita leaning back in the reading chair, resting her feet on my back. However, that was not what caught my attention, what did grab my eye was the bottom of her dress, which hung limp to the ground, and I was able to get a clear look at her tail, bushy and wagging happily, and the slightest glimpse of her white underbelly and the pink folds it surrounded.

Her eyes narrowed after she realized I was watching her and she gave a sharp tug on the chain, nearly knocking me over.

“Perhaps the guards would be better at lighting the fire, hm?" she didn't sound irritated despite the threat. It was hard to gauge their voices, but it almost sounded like she was intrigued by me trying to catch a peek.

“I-I can light it, Mi-Master!"

“Then..." she paused, lightly scratching at the side of my face with the sharp claws on her feet. I found myself unconsciously leaning into her soft pads, despite almost getting cut on the nails, “...get to it."

I was used to taking orders and keeping my head down around the anthro over-class. The other servants liked to make fun of me, but I always felt I wasn't the bootlicker they made me out to be. Now though, I wasn't so sure. I found myself excited as I continued to scrape the flint over the logs, almost thrilled to find out what she had planned for me, despite the threat of the guards being called in creating a fear lurking in the back of my heart. But then, I remembered the conversation with her Father, she wanted me and I thought that even if she called the guards, she might still want me. The guards would be unpleasant, especially if I understood what she meant by entertainment, but I felt I could live past it.

Smoke started to rise from the tinder, along with the start of a flame. I quickly grabbed the bellows, jostling Ylita's feet in the process, and began pumping it, breathing air onto the growing fire. Finally, the log caught aflame and I sighed with relief, grabbing a second log from the metal tray and tossing it into the fireplace.

Ylita gave a low laugh and I turned to her with a smile just in time to catch something green slap me in the face. I shook it off onto the floor and my eyes widened when I saw it was her dress. Blushing, I slowly turned my head up to see the Princess sitting there completely naked.

She removed her legs, black like they were covered in knee-high socks, and planted them on the floor, spreading her hips to show off the narrow slit between her cream-furred thighs.

“Come," she beckoned with her finger, “I would have you snuggle with me by the fire, slave."

The Princess raised the chain, lightly pulling me towards her, which I needed no prodding to do. I crawled over, shaking from the disappearing cold and the fact that I was about to become intimately acquainted with the King's daughter.

Resting my head in her lap, I leaned my face into her belly, the long, white furs tickling my face. Her scent was at its strongest now, a strong, musty scent that many would describe as acrid, but right now, it felt like it was just another part of her that was dominating me and that excited me. Further exciting me was the slightly sweet smell wafting from her thighs and I didn't have to be an anthro to be able to smell what that meant. She grabbed my head in her palms, caressing me as we relaxed by the fire.

She lowered her muzzle to my face, brushing the leathery tip of her nose against my ear and whispered, “Slave, are you experienced in country matters?"

I gasped, catching the double-entendre immediately.

“I, uh, I am. With my girlfriend, I..."

Oh, Rosemary, I'm sorry. I had no choice. I was enjoying it, sure, what man would not? But I felt a strong sensation of regret, of wondering whether I could have done things differently. The Princess had so much power and I so little, she would understand, I hoped.

The Princess smiled, tilting her head slightly, “Naturally, a handsome slave such as yourself would have a lady of his own."

“I'm sorry, master, I didn't mean-"

“Fear not, I am not a jealous master. Your lady will understand and if the stars align, I would not object to having her up here as well."

“Thank you, master."

Her claws suddenly reached forward and wrapped around the back of my collar, “But for now, you must attend to my matters."

My face was shoved into her thighs and my nose danced at the sweet smell of her slit's scent. I breathed it in deep into my lungs, wanting her scent inside every crevice of my body as it should be on her property.

Gently, I extended my tongue, letting the tip of it run along the outside in the garden. Some hairs stuck to my tongue, but the taste was delicate and sweet, like honey.

The Princess moaned and clutched my head in her thighs like a vice while I dived in further, sticking my tongue into the folds and probing around for the curtain hiding the secret to driving her wild. It took a bit of time to find it, it was located slightly differently from Rosemary's, but I found it and the Princess responded by nearly shrieking with pleasure and squeezing my head tighter with her thighs until it felt like I was about to suffocate.

Suddenly, she stopped, releasing her grip on me. Worried that I had done something wrong, I slowly pulled my head back and looked up, finding her panting with her long tongue hanging out.

“Get on the bed," she gasped.

“Master?"

“Get on the bed, slave!" she growled, lashing the chain violently.

I complied, pushing the canopy curtain away and slipping inside. To my surprise, the chain had gone limp and I pulled the entire length along with me into the bed. Beyond the thick, white curtains, I caught a hint of Ylita's silhouette as she rubbed something onto a long object.

Finally, the Princess pushed the shades away and joined me, crawling onto the blue sheets towards me, a hungry look in her yellow eyes. In one of her paws was the metal phallus, glistening with some kind of a grease.

She pounced atop me, pinning me down like a predator on its prey. Her thin, sharp teeth clamped around the exposed part of my neck and I went limp against the pillows. Behind her, her fluffy tail wagged victoriously.

“Caught you!" she giggled between her teeth, a single eye peering up at me with wild mischievousness.

“I'll do anything you ask," I said, not able to help myself from laughing, the feeling of her fangs against my flesh made me feel helpless but strangely happy.

“Take this," she motioned towards the phallus.

I grabbed the canine phallus by the tapered it, the grease making it hard to grip, and pulled it towards myself for further inspection. I looked at her, but she wasn't in position for me to use it on her, so I wasn't sure what to do.

“Take it like a vixen, slave."

I clenched my thighs together.

“If you do, slave, I'll make sure you enjoy it," she whispered, grinding her cunt across the tip of my cock. It was so sensitive now that it almost hurt from arousal, but I wasn't going to stop her even if I wanted her to, “And if you don't, I'll call the guards and you'll take a real cock like a real bitch. Either choice is fine with me."

Nervously, I gripped the phallus by the shaft, just below the metal knot, and lowered it to my legs. The grease clung to my fingers as I lined up the tip with my rear and with great hesitation, pushed it between my cheek.

The metal was ice cold and I gasped with a shiver. It was better than the alternative, I told myself while I pushed it further, reaching the ring of my anus. It was then that I found resistance and began having trouble pushing it past the threshold.

“I-I can't!" I grunted as the edge of the tip slipped out.

“Yes, you can."

I tried again, but it was denying entry to the tip of the cock, pushing it out whenever I tried to slip it in.

“I can't!"

Ylita sighed, “Do I have to do everything?"

She grabbed the base of the cock and without warning, gave it a strong shove. I yelled with pain at first, as the phallus was shoved violently into me up to the top of the knot, but then it gave away for something almost pleasurable that fell over me. Ylita thrust and pulled on the cock and each time the pain grew less, while the pleasure increased. Something deep inside me was screaming with joy when the tip of the cock rammed into it.

“Such a sweet vixen," she cooed, running her claws through my short hair while she pounded away at my ass, “aren't you?"

“Y-yes, master!"

“It's time to breed you like a vixen now."

Before I could ask her what she meant by that, I was overcome by a sharp pain once again as the phallus was buried deeper. The tip was now resting against whatever it was that gave me such pleasure on the inside that the pain was starting to subside. Gasping, I leaned forward and nearly yelled with surprise when I saw the knot on the phallus was stuck in, past my anus.

Ylita pushed me back down with the palm of her paw. She grinned, showing off her fierce fangs as she crawled forward, lining up her slit with my erect shaft. She stopped at touching it, denying me the pleasures of her flesh, and pressed her wet nose against my own nose, her long tongue darting out and running across my lips. I licked back, our tongues meeting in a type of kiss. Her tail was swishing back and forth wildly now.

“Beg for it, my sweet vixen slave."

“Please, master!"

“Hm?" she tilted her head, pricking her ear. “Did I hear something?"

“Master, please! I want you, master! I'll do anything for you!"

Chuckling, she lowered her thighs atop my cock, the tip meeting up with her slit with ease. The tip screamed with joy as it slipped inside her and she began sitting down slowly onto her legs, careful not to hurt me, until her butt was on her legs and my cock was nearly entirely inside her.

I had never done anything like this with Rosemary yet, for we were not married yet and she was afraid of getting pregnant. It felt wrong having Ylita make me my first, but I didn't have a choice and I couldn't deny that I was enjoying it.

Ylita slapped her palm atop my chest as she straddled my cock with her thighs, sliding up and down. I arched my legs to give her some support, her furry back leaning into them as she continued her exercise.

God, it felt so good! With all the fur on the outside of her, her slit was like a warm, fur blanket over my cock. I moaned, thanking my master for being kind to me and showing me such mercy.

I reached up and ran my hands through the long fur on her white underbelly. I wanted to see if the stories were true, which I quickly had confirmed. She had multiple rows of nipples on her chest and belly; she moaned as I fingered and pinched them, each one increasing the intensity of her noises until I counted eight nipple in total.

Pain raked across my chest and I winced, looking down to have found that Ylita lost control and scratched my chest. The cut was shallow, but some blood began to pool up in the cracks along the four lines left behind. I grit my teeth and kept my silence.

Pleasure ached in my cock, growing in intensity until it felt like it was going to explode. Ylita must have felt the same way, because she arched her back and gave one big gasp with joy, just in time for my cock to shudder and spurt inside her.

My cock slipped outside of her cunt as she fell over beside me, one final rope of cum landing on her belly, blending in among the white fut there. She nuzzled me in the cheek, her hot breath making the hairs on my neck stand up.

“Did you enjoy that, slave?" she whispered.

“Yes, master."

“Would you care to be my slave forever?"

Was she giving me a choice? She sounded almost sincere but I couldn't tell for certain. I wanted to go see Rosie and tell her I was sorry, but there was still something thrilling about being the slave of this stunning vixen Princess. But then, I knew I didn't really have a choice.

Rosie would understand, I repeated to myself, hoping for it to be true. Ylita had done things I would never imagine Rosie would do in a hundred years, but we had a personal connection, a true warmth that made me not want to lose her.

“I would like that very much, master."

Giggling, I felt her wet tongue lap against my cheek, “We'll go see Father this afternoon and make it official."

It was already official. I was now just a piece of furniture for the daughter of the most powerful anthro in the Kingdom. I was nothing but a sex toy, much like the phallus that was still stuck in my anus. She could toss me aside at any moment and she wouldn't care. My eyes began to feel watery, for the first time tonight, it all felt real and my life would never be the same.

“What's this?" she suddenly said, breaking my growing sorry.

She was looking at the blood on my chest, tracing her claw across one of the marks left behind. I winced in pain as she did this.

“Did I…?" she paused before quickly leaning her muzzle forward and licking at the wound. Between licks, she apologized. “I'm sorry."

“It's okay," I sighed, feeling some relief from the pain as she ran her tongue across the wound. Hastily, I realized I had forgotten to address her, but she didn't seem to notice. “Master."

“I have some bandages," she muttered, leaping through the curtains.

I saw her shadow walk along the perimeter of the bed, followed by a rattle as she rifled through the writing desk. Finally, she violently pushed the curtains aside once more, returning with a roll of bandages and began wrapping them around my chest. It was a little overkill for the cuts, as they had already stopped bleeding, but I appreciated the gesture. It seemed like the Princess had a tender side to her as well.

“I have to take care of my property," she said as if reading my mind and correcting me in an attempt to be as prickly as possible.

I couldn't help but laugh.

She responded by grabbing me by the collar and wrinkling back her snout in a snarl, her eyes blazing with anger, “Did I give you permission to laugh, slave?"

“No, master, I'm sorry."

My master gave a snort and then gently brushed me on the cheek once, “Good."

Sighing, she laid down on the bed next to me, cupping my head in her arms and pulling it close to her chest. My master was smaller than me, but I felt protected and secure right now, like she could guard me against any danger. Occasionally, her tail would thump against my leg, my master unable to hide her contentedness no matter how sharp she made herself appear.

I closed my eyes, rubbing against her thick coat of fur and began drifting off to sleep.

“After we register you with Father, you can go see your girlfriend."

My eyes flung open.

Rosemary, what was I going to tell her?