Chapter 21 A Cock in King Bastian's Court
#22 of Fox Hunt
A Cock in King Bastian's Court
Chapter 21
"The story," said Thandanani, "is called . . . Fox Plays a Trick."
_ _Little Ukudlala's eyes grew round and he clapped his paws. He, Aina, and Nhlahla were in Aina's home, sitting at the feet of the old fox as he conjured shapes from the blue fire in the center of the room.
_ _Thandanani was perched on a stool, clad in a deerskin skirt. Around his throat and lying against his flabby chest was a necklace of blue feathers, feathers which had been gifted to him by the great Ti'uu bird. His red mane was down around his shoulders, and his brown eyes were warm with affection as he looked upon the three children.
_ _Aina rolled her eyes. "I'm tiiiired of stories. Can't we go play?"
_ _"Aina!" Nhlahla scolded. It was disrespectful to complain to an elder, especially when they were imparting wisdom.
_ _Aina hunched her back and folded her arms, seething. "But this is boring."
_ _Thandanani chuckled. "This is the last one, my daughter. I promise."
_ _"Aww, really?" complained Ukudlala, who never got tired of the elder's stories.
_ _"It begins when Fox was traveling alone through the forest," said Thandanani. He blew a bit of dust off his black paw, and blue light leapt before their eyes, twisting into the shape of a fox. "She came to a path that was blocked by a dog. . ." A dog took shape in the light, blocking the little fox. "Dog demanded that she yield what was in her basket in order to pass."
_ _"And she killed the dog right?" Aina said hopefully.
_ _Thandanani shook his head reprovingly. "Death is not an immediate solution, my daughter, but a last resort. Violence is the way of the dog, not the way of the fox."
_ _"Don't worry, Aina," Ukudlala said brightly. "I would protect you from the dog!" He sheepishly put his paw on her knee and she smacked it off. His ears flattened as Nhlahla giggled at him.
_ _Thandanani cleared his throat, and the children fell silent. "Fox told Dog that the bread in her basket would go better with fish. She took him to a nearby lake, which was frozen to ice. They cut a hole in the ice, and Fox suggested that Dog use their tail as bait. The Dog agreed. Before long, the basket was filled to the brim with fish. Greedy for more, the silly dog stuck its backside in the icy water . . . and it froze."
_ _Little Ukudlala clapped his paws and laughed. "Ice butt! Ahahaha!"
_ _Nhlahla giggled behind her paw and elbowed Aina, who was holding back. Aina gave away to a grudging smile.
"Dog howled, and as he tried to pull his tail free of the frozen ice, Fox ate the fish and skipped away." Thandanani waved his paws, and the blue light took the shape of a running fox, even as the dog behind rubbed its backside and howled.
Ukudlala giggled shrilly. "Another, Elder? Please?"
Aina scowled. "Oh, come on!"
Thandanani smiled. "I believe that is enough. We have tortured Aina sufficiently for the day, no?"
_ _"But what's the moral of the story?" Nhlahla wondered. She put a thoughtful finger to her lip and a lick of white mane tumbled in her eyes.
"I know!" Ukudlala blurted and threw his paws above his head. "Bullies always get what they deserve! Dog should never have tried to bully Fox! If he wanted some of food, he should have asked nicely."
Aina rolled her eyes. "But dogs don't ask nicely. That's the point! Fox could have gotten away much quicker if she just killed Dog."
Thandanani shook his head solemnly. "And then how would Dog ever learn the error of his ways?"
Little Aina had no retort, so she curled her toes and stared at them.
"Not every dog can learn, it's true," Thandanani went on, "but some can."
Aina looked at her father with large, uncertain eyes. "But how can you tell the difference?"
"Sometimes you can't," her father told her gently. "Sometimes you will make mistakes. But you will learn." He eased up from his stool. "And now to prepare supper, hmm? You three go wash up."
The children dutifully bounced to Aina's room. It was not long ago that Nhlahla and Ukudlala lost their parents to the foxhounds. For the time being, they lived with Aina and her father. Once Nhlahla learned to properly cook and sew, the two of them would move back into their own burrow - where Thandanani would still check on them from time to time.
The children gathered around Aina's washbasin. Aina and Nhlahla lifted their deerskin dresses and bathed. Ukudlala watched the princess with popping eyes. At ten years old, Aina was developing small, sharp breasts. They shivered with her every movement, and he licked his lips.
Aina splashed her face. She tossed her mane back and ran her fingers through it. When she opened her eyes, it was to find Ukudlala staring at her tiny breasts. She scowled and smacked him over the head.
"Ouch! Aina! I wasn't . . ."
"Disrespectful," Nhlahla hissed. "Turn around!"
"No," Ukudlala said stubbornly. "Her breasts are already mine!"
_ _Aina and Nhlahla looked at each other and laughed.
Ukudlala's face screwed up. "It's true! One day I will win your heart, Ainanani."
"Oh?" Aina said, pulling her dress back down around her hips. "And how will you do that?"
"I - I don't know," Ukudlala admitted.
The girls laughed again, and his ears flattened miserably.
"But I swear," he said and took Aina's paw. He smiled into her eyes, "I will protect you."
Aina let the memory slip away as she knelt between the throne chairs. Poor Ukudlala. He had wanted so desperately to protect her, and yet in the end, had not been able to protect her from himself.
"Hurry up," said the queen's bored voice. "I tire of this. Move on to the anal."
Aina sighed. She was kneeling beside the dog queen's throne, in the grand castle of the dog king. The pair of them were easily the most beautiful dogs Aina had ever seen -- though the queen's beauty could never touch Evelyn's, Aina's thought. _ _
Queen Donica was an Andalusian hound, something she announced with pride each and every ten minutes. Her face, back, and shoulders were rusty red, her snout long and almost pointed, her slanted eyes green. Her paws, her cleavage, and - one could only assume - her belly were snowy white. The fluffy white fur pressed against the high collar of her tight fighting gown, from which her breasts practically poured, laden as they were by necklaces. Her skirts ballooned over the seat of the throne, hiding the tiny slippers that cased her tiny feet. On her fingers were many rings, glittering with deadly jewels that cut the faces of the servants she often backslapped. Getting spanked by her while wearing those rings was no picnic either - as Aina learned the first time she spilled a pitcher during a banquet. She couldn't believe it when she was thrown across the queen's lap by a towering male servant - then spanked raw by her open paw. And not only were Aina's buttocks spanked, but her sex as well. The queen forced her thighs apart and slapped her sex until the lips were swollen and moist. She then had a male servant kneel at her side . . . and lick Aina clean of her juices. Aina bucked and rocked on the queen's lap, straining to avoid that hungry tongue until she exploded. The queen giggled, and the court happily followed her lead, laughing eagerly. When Aina humbly climbed off the queen's lap, it was to find the king watching her keenly. It was the most humiliating ordeal of her life. But it worked: she never spilled a pitcher again.
The queen's long mane was red and swept partially into a high bun. The rest spilled down her narrow back and shifted prettily around her shoulders each time she moved her long neck. Her white cleavage had a way of heaving when she yelled that often made Aina drip between her thighs. She was a gorgeous female, all straight-backed pride, elegance, and command. It only took Aina a day to realize who was _really_king of the castle.
King Bastian, by sharp contrast, was always smiling and calm and barely if ever spoke. He observed all around him with quiet gray eyes, and whenever he did deign to speak, all the room hushed to listen, even the queen. His breed was known as King Shepherd, a fearsome sort of beast, large and imposing, self-confident and powerful, yet self-contained and quite protective.
Aina picked up on the protectiveness right away. The king was constantly coddling the queen, fussing over her when she stubbed her delicate little toe and begging that she take care as he walked with her on his arm. He was so large a creature with his golden fur and calm eyes that it was quite amusing to see him so easily leashed by his tiny queen. But the queen had everyone on a leash.
The servants, meanwhile, were all male and were all of one breed: sleek black Beaucerons with dark brown paws and snouts. They walked about the castle completely naked but for the gold chains that linked their nipples. Muscular and hard-bodied all, they knelt on paws and knees, and with flexing buttocks, scrubbed the floors, bent with tight ass cheeks to make the beds, carried wash to and fro with swinging penises, scrubbed dishes with bare chests. Aina caught a glimpse of them once, in the kitchens, butt naked as they chopped sausages. The tight muscles of their backs flexed as they polished the windows, as they lifted bundles, as they opened carriages. They would hose down the drive, and for the queen's pleasure, would hose down each other, their black manes glossy in the sunlight as the water sent their brown penises flapping under the pressure.
One servant in particular was named Primus. He was the queen's personal bodyguard and was known throughout the court as the shadow over her shoulder. He stood eight feet tall - even taller than Long Face, Aina realized - and had a penis the size of one of the giant sausages she'd seen in the kitchen. He was the one who had licked Aina's sex after the queen spanked her, and she remembered gasping to see how large he was when hardened from doing it. Since the incident, his brown eyes always looked at her with longing. But he never made a move to touch her.
And he could have. From the first day Aina arrived at the castle, she was put in the care of Primus, who bathed her every night, brushed her fur and mane, and left her chained in a dark room. During those few moments he spent alone with her each evening, he could have done anything to her. But he never did. And what was more, he never spoke. Aina was beginning to wonder if he could speak.
It wasn't long before Aina realized the servants were not mere servants . . . but slaves. Apparently, the beautiful Beaucerons were a silent breed, gentle and good in nature, and had easily been conquered into submission as sex slaves. None of them spoke. And what was even more bizarre, they did not seem to resent their lot in life. They went through their duties each day, and never did an unhappy expression cross their faces. It upset Aina, and she couldn't understand why. They seemed content enough. But she knew they should not have been content. When the queen backslapped one of them, they should have been angry!
Aina glanced at Primus even now and had to wonder what was going through his mind. He stood beside the king's throne, groomed and handsome, his black mane loose around his powerful shoulders. His quick, intelligent eyes were fixed on what was happening on the floor below the dais.
Down below, two naked servants were wrestling. Their fur had been oiled so thoroughly that they were slipping against each other and struggling to hold on. Their nipple chains had been removed, and Aina could see their dark brown nipples hard as rocks against their bulging pectorals. Their fur shimmered black in the bright light of the throne room as their tails slapped the smooth white floor. Along the walls, nobles stood and sat, sipping wine as they watched the erotic proceedings. A few ladies giggled behind their fans, a few gentlemen coughed uncomfortably as they resisted arousal.
The males grunted and groaned, large penises flapping as they rolled across the floor. One managed to mount the other's back. He pinned him by the neck to the ground, forcing his hard buttocks in the air as he slowly looked at the queen.
"Anal, I said," Queen Donica snapped and waved her scepter. "Fuck him already!"
The slave obeyed. He turned his indifferent eyes back to his defeated opponent, and his eyes danced over him as he smoothed his paw over his muscular body. His opponent trembled a little as he was touched. Aina saw his penis stiffen slightly. Kneeling with tail in the air and face on the floor, he closed his eyes as he was fondled. He slowly grew hard in other slave's paw and grunted weakly.
"Slowly, take your time," Queen Donica called to the slave. "He is a succulent meal and you are starving. But you must savor every bite."
The slave obeyed. He slowly fondled his defeated opponent into throbbing excitement. Aina saw him getting hard as he touched him, saw him swallow hard as if to hold back. He kept his paw on his opponent's neck as he spread his hard cheek . . . and slipped inside. His oily penis slid in with a squelch. The slave moaned into the floor as he was ridden, slowly and sensually, under his tail.
"Ah . . . ah . . . ah . . ."
"Umph . . ."
"Ahhh . . ."
"Uh . . ."
The slave's strong paw tightened on the other's neck. He hunched his back and humped him deeper but just as slow. All the court was still as that thick erection fed slowly in and out of those hard buttocks. The queen shifted on her throne, and Aina's heart fluttered when she felt that small paw touch her mane.
"Should I have you placed between them?" the queen said to Aina. "You are dripping, little love."
Aina lowered her lashes and said nothing. She was never supposed to speak to the queen anyway - not unless directly commanded to. But it was true: she was getting wet. She bit her lip and tried to drown out the sounds of pleasure that filled the vast silence. But she couldn't. Watching the slaves make love kept taking her mind back to CelankobiForest and that sweet night she had spent in Evelyn's arms. She remembered slipping her fist in the tight walls of Evelyn's hot sex and how that sex gushed over her fingers. She slid her little fist slowly and deeply, and lying in the leaves, Evelyn had twisted and gasped, panted and slowly turned red as her big breasts jiggled at the sky.
Aina heard a small sigh and glanced over at the king. He was growing stiff in his trousers. He sat on his throne, legs wide, one golden finger stroking his lips as he watched the proceedings with narrowed eyes. He was wearing a fine blouse, tight slacks, and heeled shoes that curled on the back with superfluous ribbons. His golden mane was pulled back in a tail, and around his throat hung a heavy red jewel. Like the queen, his fingers were laden with rings, but never did his paw lift to strike but to beckon. His crown was nestled in his mane, glinting in the bright light of the hall as softly as the queen's slender diamond tiara.
"This is torture," the king muttered to the queen. "And we both know that once we're off to bed, you will do nothing about this." He gestured at his lap.
The queen laughed softly and Aina knew why: the king was teasing. The fact of the matter was, the queen simply adored him. She would pleasure her king in any way in any position. He had but to ask. Sometimes they kept Aina in their bedchamber with Primus holding her leash, and she would watch with a moist sex as they made love over every piece of furniture present.
The slave frowned and finally climaxed in the anus of the other. The one beneath dare not squirt on the floor. He allowed his opponent to flip him on his back . . . and devour his erection until it squirted. The court clapped, fluttered their fans, whispered, and giggled. Both slaves crawled to the dais, and on paws and knees, they bowed their heads to the king and queen.
"Well done!" the queen said cheerfully. "And now that the night's festivities are over . . ." She paused to let the court laugh. "I must bid you goodnight. My king has . . .needs."
The court laughed again.
Aina moaned. Primus would now take her away, and she would be groomed, chained, and left alone in the dark. Or perhaps Primus would take her to the royal bedchamber, and she would be forced to watch as the king and queen made loud, passionate love. She didn't know which was worse. She was tired of being unsatisfied!
No one had touched Aina since the first day she arrived at the castle. She was forced to come to a state of arousal, forced to go about with a throbbing hungry clitoris, with swollen lips, with the juices of her arousal coursing down her slender thighs. But she was never allowed to touch herself. And no one was allowed to touch her. The only exception was the time Primus was ordered to lick her sex. But even then, she was forced to arousal all over again.
Aina was the queen's trophy, and sometimes just to show off, Queen Donica had her tied to a table and left on public display. The nobles would gather around to gawk and admire, and only then were they allowed to touch her. Aina would lay helplessly, wrists and ankles tied, as fingers pinched her nipples, glided in her sex, explored her anus, pinched her swollen lips. A male noble once slid his finger in her sex, and after pulling it out and sucking on it, he told her she was sweet. A female noble sucked her nipple as everyone watched and squeezed her breasts, announcing loudly how delighted she was by their youthful "ripeness." Aina was a pretty possession on display, a toy that could never be played with.
It was killing her.
Sometimes she looked at Queen Donica and wished desperately that she would play.
"If I could request but a moment of your time, your highness!" someone called.
Queen Donica had taken King Bastian's paw and both were elegantly rising when a figure moved toward the thrones.
Curiosity aroused, Queen Donica slowly sat again, her ballooning skirts rustling. She twirled her scepter in her slender fingers and cocked a brow. "Yes? And who might you be? I hope you are someone of great import to delay your queen's rest. For _your_sake."
The court laughed darkly.
Sitting back on his throne, King Bastian slowly smiled. "Wait, darling. I'd know that figure anywhere. It's Evelyn!" he cried and failed to notice the sudden angry flaring the queen's nostrils did. "The Duchess Evelyn Lorraine Kingsley, come to my court at last?"
Aina stiffened as the figure removed their hood, and Evelyn's white curls blazed in the light.
Evelyn smiled at the king. "At last."