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The Amazons returned from their harrowing war game and along with it, the Harem Sluts. Eleanor needed some relief after it turned into a stunning orc bloodbath, and that very night visited her lover, Max, to pounce his thick rabbit cock.

Her breasts thundered in front of her as Max drove hard and fast up into her pussy, a bouncing, relentless cowgirl fuck that culminated in a roaring, gushing orgasm from them both that had Max praising the great Goddess and Eleanor squealing to the ceiling. Their thighs wet and a sloshing puddle of male and femcum soaking into the sheets around Max's rump, the male rabbit suddenly furrowed his brow at the sensing of a subtle unease of his lover.

Tweaking and teasing the stiff nipples at the end of Eleanor's heavy tits, he asked, "Eleanor, as hearty and feral as our fucking was,your passion sounded a little forced. Is there anything wrong?"

The rabbit on top immediately withdrew, a lewd slurping sound sputtering out as she dismounted nearly nine inches of veiny rabbit dick. His cock slapped soundly against his toned stomach, and when he backed up to sit at the head of the bed, dragging a slime trail of cum behind him, Eleanor joined his side, idly stroking the firm, spent monster laying over his crossed calves.

"It was all I wanted. I only lasted so long because I was thinking about the Amazons ..." she said.

Max shrugged and lay an arm over her shoulders, brushing his paw over the top of her tit. "That'd make me last less, honestly."

"No, no, not about their ravenous lust or their perfect statuesque bodies!" she exclaimed, thumbing the slit of his cock to make him shiver, "It's about their war talent, them and the Harem. Their peerless prowess on the battlefield: it made me feel I've nothing special to offer."

Max laughed, his muscular forearm flexing as he lifted Eleanor's breast with his paw. "Nonsense, dearest. You make me cum so hard I could carve marble with the spray. You're brave, resourceful, sexy, and I know our Prince would say the same in a heartbeat; he loves you as deeply as your comrades."

"It's a start, love," she sighed, lifting his cock up and shivering as she compared its girth to her wrist, "but aside from our bond there's nothing in what you just said that couldn't describe every other Harem Slut defending Jahaliya's grace. I want to offer something special! Jessica is a scholar and Goddess does that predator's fangs feel good on my clit ... Corsi is a water warrior who's outmaneuvered dolphins, Natasha is the best marksman bar none of this continent--and can dance to make a dragon and his cock cry--and Tina ... she catapulted me up on a three-story roof when I needed to retrieve a lost discus."

"You're in distinguished company, Ellie," he said as he pulled her into his lap, she straddling his cock so snugly it looked like it was her own, "and the Prince wouldn't hold you against them unless you were their equal."

"I'm the extra body," she groused, frotting her wet netherlips against the body of his shaft, "I'm a counterweight so the boat doesn't capsize."

"What about your singing?" he asked, groping her firm, round hips. "I've heard you in the shower. The walls vibrate with sound! Depending on the song, it makes me feel like a kit fresh from the litter, or a man hungry for conquest of women and foe."

Eleanor froze, having wrapped her breasts around his girth and nibbling at the tip with her buck teeth. "Hey! What about my privacy?" she exclaimed.

"You left the door open, and I had to freshen up for training. I thought I was the shy one here."

Max's voice was deep and soothing: while he was reserved in public, his lust always seemed to unlock a cool, unflappable hero within. His presence, in private, was like a soothing magic mist that made her feel at ease, whether she consciously wanted it or not. Eleanor relaxed against him, feeling his pecs flex against her shoulder blades.

"No. Perhaps. I'll think about it," she said, and then opened her mouth around the wet, sticky head of his shaft so she wouldn't have to talk anymore.

Max moaned, feeling his aching, spent balls tighten against him for round two, and as she bobbed her mouth and her tits around his cock, he grunted out,

"I'll make a few inquiries; I'm not done with you yet."

The next week, Eleanor was busy in her boudoir, head turned over her shoulder as she carefully trimmed the tuft of her tail to make it a perfect leaf. The more she looked at herself, the more she blushed: when her gray fur was brushed and conditioned, it shimmered like steel, and gave fluidity to a svelte, angular body worthy of statues. She hummed a delicate, contemplative tune, consciously unaware of the dulcet notes that tickled her whiskers and licked at her nipples.

Max knocked on the door when she set the scissors down, and her humming immediately ceased. He had a suave, passionate grin on his face, and held in his hand a strange bulbous wand that Eleanor thought was a sex toy.

"May I see you?" he asked.

"Why ... yes, of course," she said, clearing her throat. She turned to him and curtsied, but he waved it off. "Better to see me than hear my silly singing."

"Yes, about that," he said, the caramel-brown rabbit striding into the room in nothing but gallant black boots, a harness and a grin. His plump sheath bounced between his hips, though it was sealed. He seemed to be exercising a lot of restraint, which made her all the more hungry ... and curious. "You'd think the people would have had it with the silly little love songs, but Jahaliya's not heard them in the first place."

He tapped the wand in the palm of his paw, pacing right up to Eleanor, then around her. "I'll have to say, Ijs is one hell of a mage. I though of going to John first, but he's still a relative beginner at this. But Ijs is into cold-play, surprise surprise, and so you'll credit my efforts as a labor of love."

"For an arcane dildo?" Eleanor asked, watching him spin it between his fingers.

Max grinned as he held the device to his lips. "If you wish," he said, and his voice thundered throughout her chambers, making her ears ring. It was the bellow of a dragon, and she stumbled against her vanity, knocking her scissors to the floor.

"What in blazes?!" she gasped.

Max couldn't contain his smile. His buck teeth, broad as a paw and white as a cloud, sparkled in the low, amber light of her dressing room. "Ijs, that brilliant Amazon, heir to the thrallship should Governor Cyndra fall ill, has been studying interdimensional planes and vibrational acoustic links. She explained this to me while attempting to snuggle--you're much better at it and most other things, by the way--and while I was perfunctorily nibbling on her ice-cold anus she elaborated that there is a subtle psionic connection to people crossing these planes. This wand harnesses the static psionics in a series of organized tones, and can project it as I've just demonstrated."

Eleanor rubbed her temples with her paws; her eyes were wide and her brain throbbed as her warrior lover gave her a dissertation on arcana.

"Good Goddess, Max; you're sounding like Jessica or John ... how did you remember all those terms while balls deep in that Amazon sorceress? Did you enjoy it?"

"It was all for you, my love, and so I hung onto every word better than my jizz hung from her whiskers. It paid off considering I procured this for you," he said, holding it out to her. She reached out for it, but a sudden thought made him pull it back. "There was an odd term that came with this public projection of one's spirit through song ... Ijs whispered it as she inserted ice cubes into my sheath; quite strange."

" ... the ice cubes or the term?"

"The ice cubes were merely awkward. 'Kerry-Okey' was the term."

"'Karaoke,' are you sure? That is strange," she said as she took the wand from him. Power shot up her arms and then back into the device, which proceeded to glow with red runes reading "On/Off." "What if it's another trick of the Poacher Queen?"

"From Myscindyr Thrall Ijs?" Max laughed, "Impossible, but I had it checked anyway by Spymaster Sumber. The device actually has anti-Poacher Queen spells interwoven into it; it'd go off like a bottled fireball spell should she or her royal guard touch it. Which, speaking of, do not hit a PQ council-member with it; it'll blow your arm off."

"Can I shove it up their ass?"

"Only if you have Natasha throw it," he said, and they both laughed. The wand caught Eleanor's voice and a glass on her nightstand shattered. Max beamed. "See, I couldn't do that. Why don't you give it a try?"

"Here?"

Max took her up in his arms, the tall male rabbit beaming down at his lover. Their fur intermingled, and his nethers glowed against her stomach. "Exactly, my love."

Eleanor nodded, looking down at the netted overlay of the wand's head. It looked like a drain filter. "Sure," she stuttered, her voice echoing through the room, "I'll try it out. Do you know John Denver?"

"I've never heard him in my life," Max purred, "but I'm sure you'll sing it better."

Eleanor barked with a bashful laugh. "If I match him, I'll be Princess of Jahaliya," she said, "but I think you'll like it, even though it's kinda forward."

"A love song, then?" he said, weaving his fingers above the small of her back, his claws playing with her groomed tail, "Then I hope you don't mind if I listen with ears fully cocked."

Eleanor giggled, batting at his firm jaw with her free paw, and then eased into "Annie's Song," her voice warbling as she stared into his chest, and then it rose to perfection as she looked up at his face.

Her voice filled the room like sweet ambrosia, raising a shiver along Max's back and along with it, a familiar firm warmth that rose between her legs and nudged against her netherlips, which were wet with anticipation. As her voice poured into his ears, so with it came familiar old-world instrumentals, accompanying strings to bolster Eleanor's cover, and when the femme leaned against him to take his shaft into her cunny, Max instead took her free paw in his and led her around the boudoir in a waltz.

Eleanor's heart skipped and she almost missed a line, but instead only peppered her words with a giggle as a warm blush spread under her cheekfur, her thigh-high boots padding on the lush red carpet beneath. When the song ended, Max leaned in and kissed her deeply, holding her tight against his firm body as their tongues played between their mouths.

When their lips parted, the femme rabbit fanned herself as the rush of the song gushed through her body, and when she sat on the lounge at the end of the bed she noticed her nipples were rock hard, and her labia thrummed between her damp thighs.

"By the Goddess, Max, I didn't know you could dance!" she laughed, resisting the urge to frot her feminine need against the chiffon cushions.

Max shrugged, his broad white buckteeth on display, his cock stiff and jutting out in the humid bedroom air. His eyes were wet, and his lips quivered. "Neither could I," he said quietly, "But as the Goddess strengthens our natural talents, that wand has brought a blinding brilliance to a voice that already glimmered, and on my honor I swear it could bleach the darkest of hearts."

Eleanor sandwiched her paws between her thighs and mewled in pleasure, grinning back at him. "And now you're sounding like Prince Ryoga at forum! Has Sylvia been giving you lessons?"

Max's eyes widened. "No... but I think that wand has unlocked secret chests stashed in my mind's dungeon."

Eleanor snapped her fingers. "It's the gift of music. Simple as that. And Max, bless me ... I think this is the best present I've ever got, behind coming here. Bar none; I wouldn't take a ten-hour fuck from you over this, as glorious as that would be."

"You'll get that anyway, if you keep singing."

"Yes, well, the servants have to change the sheets sometime, and I digress. Do you want to go out tonight? There's a restaurant at the city limits, it's a little rough around the edges but I desire that kind of energy. Too many more love songs and I'll be demanding a litter from you and a cottage on the top of a hill."

Max blushed severely and dug his booted footpaw in the carpet: in discussions of their relationship, he shied away from serious commitment. It was his philosophy that if he were to do it, he'd require of himself no less than to be the paragon of matrimony. Anything less, and he'd consider himself a fraud.

"I said I digress!" Eleanor laughed, "I couldn't deprive the world of your randiness, or lace any of your lust with guilt! And petty guilt's not allowed in Jahaliya, is it?"

"No."

"So then. Let's have a double-date. Or a two-point-five date, since Tina has Vin and Brath. The orange cat and the otter, remember? We can play pawsies under the table, over mugs of lavender ale and grilled thistles."

"Fried thistles, probably."

"I could use the grease. Let's go!"

***

The Harem Slut and her warrior date got strange looks from a pair of grizzled and scarred mutt bouncers when they arrived at The Dropjaw Harbinger, and the patrons near the door paused as they entered. Everyone inside wore the traditional Jahaliya flair, but their harnesses and boots were of a rough, weathered quality. These were the laborers and farmhands who could afford a nutritious meal but could not buy one finger of one glove of Perslaman silk with their life savings.

Eleanor bowed to many of them, and in response they lifted their mugs and gave a salutary nod. Even in her own casual harness and semi-polished running boots, she felt like royalty and feared herself flaunting.

The inn was loud: its all-wood construction bounced sound at chaotic angles, elevating raucous banter into a cacophony. Its acoustics were either very good or very bad: she couldn't tell with all the rambling.

They found a booth in the corner, near a pressboard stage where a shaggy Komodo dragon troubadour with an undone harness, straps hanging from his waist, recited aloud raunchy poetry while he picked a splintered mandolin with his claws, all with a half erection. The occasional patron listened in, idly playing with their food or their genitals.

Eleanor frowned, holding a paw up to mask her expression. "He's not very good ... I don't think I could enjoy a 'juicy, passionate meat tornado.' His mandolin is also out of tune."

A string snapped and the Komodo dragon paused, then re-fingered on the remaining strings and sang in a worse key. "Goddess," Eleanor moaned. Max reached across the table and gave her a reassuring smile as he squeezed her paw.

"'Sup, Sluts?" came a boisterous female voice.

"Tina!" the inn shouted, hoisting their mugs high as the stocky, muscular skunkette swaggered in with a man's waist in each arm.

Tina gave a hoot of acknowledgement, then plopped herself down next to Max as her two male escorts slid in on either side of Eleanor. "Sure you know Brath and Vin," she said to them, then smiled up at the innkeeper as he dropped her food and a mug of drink right in front of her.

"I come here often. Everyone's spoiling for a fight, or at least a good cuss-war," she laughed. "Surprised you two lovebunnies would enjoy this rugburn establishment.

Eleanor nodded happily. "All for those reasons you described," she said, "I wanted a little grit."

Another string on the Komodo dragon's mandolin broke, and then he launched into caterwauling about unicorn cock-horns and tentacle tits.

Eleanor cringed again. "That and I heard there was an open stage."

Tina laughed, already lounging in her booth, tossing an arm over Max. Eleanor looked down and saw that both of the skunk's feet were buried in the crotches of the males on either side of her, kneading their balls. "Yup, and I told you it's terrible. If you ever feel like a talentless hack, come here and you'll feel proud you can fry an egg."

"Eleanor's quite talented, actually," Max said as he casually stroked Tina's fluffy jawline.

Tina leaned forward with a lurch, and when her paws slammed down on the table her drink bounced into the air, sloshing some lavender onto Max. "And you're here to show the world!" she gasped.

"Well, I was thinking ..." Eleanor started, but Tina was already gone, leaving the rabbit between an orange cat and an otter with throbbing erections, Max on the other side with a smug smile stretching his face.

The skunkette was up on stage, and wrested the Komodo dragon's paw away from his mandolin to deposit a few tiny gems into his palm.

"Well, thank you, Noble Slut, but I ..."

Tina then stole his mandolin and smashed it against the back wall.

"Sorry," she said, then kissed his cheek and patted his bottom as he slumped offstage.

The audience cheered, to which Tina thrust her paws out and silenced them in an instant.

"Apologies for our haphazard friend; even the Goddess can miss a spot."

They laughed at her near-blasphemy, knowing it was all in good fun.

"I've given him cash for singing lessons and a good mandolin. There's potential in us all, folks. But I want to show you someone who's already exceeded her potential! This is the crowned mage of talent, the warrior paragon of wonder! May I present to you Eleanor, Goddess incarnate with the power of--!"

And then she stopped. She looked out at her captive audience, who were leaning so far out of their chairs and booths, they were almost levitating. Her eyes skipped over to Eleanor, who was pinned, petrified, against the back of her booth, holding tightly to the otter's and cat's erections as if she'd fly into space without them. The males' teeth were clenched painfully tight, their cocks beet-red from her iron grip.

"Shit. Eleanor, what are you good at?" she called out.

"Everything?" the rabbit stammered.

The inn burst into laughter in unison, a raucous avalanche of hooting and howling. Tina laughed with them, swinging her fist in a circle above her head as she reveled in this lovely new thrill of being an emcee.

"All right, quiet down, you savages, before I put you all in loincloths. Presenting Eleanor, who will do everything onstage!"

The audience roared again, and when Eleanor saw Max across the table with his arms wrapped around his torso, tears spilling down his cheeks, heaving with silent laughter, her cock-musky palm slapped her forehead. The rabbit scooped up her wand and hopped free of the booth.

Her cheeks hot, her ears hotter, the rabbit brought the device to her lips and immediately launched into song. Eleanor's heart raced as her voice burst throughout the room, flooding it, electrifying it, soaking it like a fast thunderstorm, and it wasn't until the second verse that she realized she was broadcasting Elton John's "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting"

Emboldened, the rabbit continued, and was dancing about the stage with her eyes shut, the lyrics and the music driving her on, the sounds of wood snapping and torsos compacting all part of the song to her, and the more she sang, the hotter burned the spectacle. There was even a faint voice amidst a flurry of thudding punches and footclaws gouging the wood floor: it seemed to say "Eleanor, Goddess toss you; you're pouring oil on a fire! Shut up, you idiot! You're too good!

Haters would be haters. Eleanor found it strange that such sounds would be coming out of the wand; perhaps it was imitating a performance of Elton 'Eleanor' John where he suffered an intense heckler. She was glad she didn't live in such a belligerent, warring world.

On the second chorus, a dismembered mug handle hit the back of her knee, and Eleanor opened her eyes. To her horror, it wasn't a misdirection from the wand: it was her.

Max and the Komodo dragon picked Tina up in a double suplex and slammed her through a table, high-fiving each other before sparring back-to-back with Brath and a bouncer, with Max coming out on top. The Komodo dragon was a surprisingly good fighter, but then, a sudden change of alliance brought the muscular fist of Eleanor's lover across his jaw, and then he sailed through the kitchen door as Max roared.

"Saturday night's all right for ... crap, crap, no; crap!" Eleanor sputtered, then ducked as Max threw a booth at her, her lover in full Hulk mode. Tina sprang up and punched him in the gut, then she and five other patrons tackled him into a wall. Vin smashed a chair over Max's head, then they all dropped the rabbit and fought each other.

Eleanor needed a new song, but what? If an aggressive song could so soundly cause aggression, then what she needed was ...

She needed time to think. "Stop in the Name of Love?" "Stop, Hammertime? Stop, collaborate and listen?" she asked herself. "I need time, dammit; it's ticking away! Only time. Wait, Enya; yes!"

With desperate inspiration, Eleanor sang "Only Time."

And then she knew that the acoustics in the inn were excellent. As her soothing voice and the peaceful instrumentals washed back over her, her wand fed off of the feedback and grew warm. Instead of re-broadcasting the wash of sound, it made the spell more powerful, and Eleanor ducked another mug of ale, flying in real time, as she watched the brawlers around her slow to a crawl.

Gravity and the rest of the natural world worked as usual, but the patrons around her slacked in their efforts. Still intoxicated with the rush of violence, they performed their normal actions at quarter-speed, and when Tina's heel pushed into Brath's face at the completion of a roundhouse kick, he merely followed through with the expected blow, pantomiming a dazed spiral as he tossed himself back into a booth, knocking it over.

This was interesting, Eleanor thought, and she walked off-stage at normal speed, ducking under a punch thrown by Max as he "connected" with one bouncer's gut. Amused, the femme petted her lover's flexed arm, then strutted off to retrieve a basket of fried thistles left in the kitchen window. She popped one in her mouth during the song's bridge, then slipped a gold piece in the innkeeper's apron as he swung a club at her shoulders.

She walked around it and returned to the stage, sliding right into her next number as it was clear that everyone had transitioned into a theatrical play-fight. "Music can soothe the savage beast," she remembered the old idiom, and then hopped into "Give Peace a Chance."

Tina threw a chair at her, but moving at quarter-speed she gave it no momentum, and so it toppled to her feet in one piece.

"Sing ... something ... faster! But ... peaceful!" she said in agonizing slowness, going so far as to deepen her voice. It looked particularly silly against the generous, fluffy fur on her tail and head, which blew as normal when a gust flew in from the open front door.

Super. I'm in the middle of a riot and my emcee is micromanaging me, Eleanor thought.

Eleanor switched to The Eagles with "Take it Easy," and people started returning to their chairs--what chairs were left whole, at least. Plenty of patrons had to remain standing. They nodded their heads in time, enjoying the breezy harmonies and the medium tempo, and the innkeeper sent one of the waitresses around to hand out more drinks and appetizers, which they enjoyed for themselves by actually consuming them.

Eleanor elected to seal the deal with another Eagles tune, "Peaceful Easy Feeling," and its lyrics were more relaxing with a gentler tempo, suggesting that her listeners lay back and relax.

It worked, and when she was done she curtsied into a pleasant surge of applause and affirmative cheers. No one was screaming at this point--in fact many of them were pretty busted up--but they all smiled, best they could, against myriad swelling as a squad of city guards rattled through the front door.

Back to his senses, the innkeeper of The Dropjaw Harbinger immediately fingered Eleanor and her friends, pleading with the handsome, nude wolfess captain that he didn't know these aristocrats would bluster into his humble establishment and party like selfish hooligans.

He was crying crocodile tears--every last drop--Eleanor thought, and she had half a mind to sing something fierce to get the place going again. She took the nobler path, and instead let herself, along with Max, Tina, and Tina's lovers, be escorted off the premises.

"Innkeep says you started the mess," the wolfess said, scribbling notes onto a scroll pinned to a clipboard, "Harem Slut Eleanor, with all due respect, is any of that true? We always regarded you as the quiet and sweet one down at precinct barracks."

"She'd sooner seduce a fly than squash it, ma'am," Tina said, "Why just the other--"

"Hush, Tina," Eleanor interrupted. The guards and her friends looked at her with surprised stupor. "All of it's true. I accidentally lit a fire under all their butts, and an inn-wide fight broke out."

The wolfess let out a low whistle, and her feather pen blazed across the page. A fellow guard held out an ink-pot and she re-wetted the instrument. "Accidental, how? You're not practicing arcana, are ya?"

Eleanor shrugged, blushing. "Maybe I am," she said, holding her wand aloft.

A guard behind the wolfess rattled his crossbow. "Is that a weapon?"

The wolfess held up her paw. "She's on the same side, private. Eleanor, is it?"

"A wand, yes; got it today," she explained, and when the wolfess held out her paw, the rabbit carefully set the wand in it.

"It's not unstable, is it?" the wolfess asked, coolly dropping it into a satchel hanging off her harness.

"So far, no. It's very effective and ... very easy to misuse."

"Like any weapon worth its spunk. What's it do; thunderbolts and lightning?"

Eleanor gasped at the thought. "Oh, Goddess; if I sang that song I don't know ... maybe. It seems to influence behaviors depending on the music."

The wolfess flipped her scroll over the clipboard, then paused on page two. She frowned, looking up under her smart brimmed cap. "Music, Slut? It works by singing?"

"I sang and the inn broke out in a fight. There was blood, but nothing serious."

The guard behind her began to idly hum, then the device in her satchel began to glow. The wolfess smacked him in the chest and he stopped. The wand cooled down.

"Singing, then. A musical amplifier, arcana based. Goddess, if tonight didn't have enough paperwork ..." she grumbled, removing her cap to wipe her brow. "Is that the truth?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The wolfess wasn't done. "Honored Slut, I can see this kind of destruction at a big concert, with dancers, pyrotechnics, and enchanted mandolins, but at The Dropjaw Harbinger? This little crack in the ass? What did you do onstage, and more importantly, why in blazes would you fuss with arcana, in public, if you didn't know what it did?"

Tina butted in, pushing Eleanor aside as she squared up to the stirred policewolf. "You forget your place, Captain! She doesn't need to be lectured; she's of the Crown Prince's Royal Harem! What's your name?"

The wolfess cleared her throat. Though the muscular skunk was in her face, she did not back down. Their noses touched. "Viralyn. I'm only a Lieutenant, Slut Tina, and may I remind you that I am under sanction of the King's city force. I keep order and you trounced it. There will be fines and damages, all coming from our esteemed Prince's purse, which partly in turn comes from taxes paid by civilians such as the ones you inspired to thrash each other--"

"Lieutenant, enough!" Eleanor shouted, "What are the damages? I plead guilty; I'll pay it myself. I discovered a wonder and then it got away from me."

Viralyn smiled at this, and put away her scrolls. "Restitution, perfect. I'll finish this up and the Prince will get a copy of your citation. Might I say, off the record," she started, taking off her cap. She had lovely silver fur, shorn short as per guard standards. "This is a surprising case. For you to start an inn-wide riot without the Poacher Queen's rage gas? I'm impressed. Once we analyze the wand, pending any malicious enchantments it'll be returned to you ... pending fines and damages."

"Spymaster Sumber already checked it," Max said.

"Have you his paperwork?"

"At the palace."

"Then he can check it again."

Eleanor's ears burned as they drooped; this was a humiliating end to a bizarre night. "Tina, let's get out of here," she said.

Tina's fur was raised; she was short of growling at this bitch-wolf. "I'm thinking this Lieutenant's overstepping her bounds."

"Tina, now!" Eleanor shouted, grabbing the skunk's thick bicep with surprising force. The wand rattled in Viralyn's pouch, and the wolfess put a paw against it to stop it. "Are we free to go?" Eleanor asked her.

"Of course. Have a good night, Sluts and Gents," she responded with a tip of her cap.

***

Eleanor crashed into her bedroom and tackled her bed, motorboating her silk pillow as she screamed into it. She'd catch hell for all this, not to mention she'd lost Max's present. All in all, a buffet of misery.

Sylvia politely knocked on her doorframe. "You came in late, dear; did you have a good time?"

Eleanor raised her head to the Harem Matron, who was gracefully posed at the start of her room. The lioness inclined her chin to the sight of the rabbit's fallen ears. "I suppose not. What's distressed you so?"

Eleanor told her the whole tale, alternating between happy giggles and vicious punches to her bedcushions. Sylvia listened patiently, and when Eleanor got to the end she merely shook her head and crossed her arms under her breasts.

"Dear me," she said, "and the city guard cited you?"

"It's going straight to the top."

"Then you're going to bed now, dear."

"What?"

"You're talking with Ryoga at sunrise."

"But he has his morning routine."

"Well I guess that'll be your morning routine tomorrow! His mood's much better around dewy grass and brisk, fresh air, away from the courtrooms and royal forums. Better sooner than later, my dear!" she said, and then left the room before Eleanor could retort.

The bunny's head thudded back against her pillow. If she had her wand, she could soothe him with a nice song ... but that'd be trickery. Might as well face the music as nakedly and honestly as she could.

***

Eleanor followed Ryoga around as he jogged in his harness, a flexible set of boots, and a small napkin of a cape to reference his vaulted royal standing. He welcomed her and charged her to read him his reports and daily news and then plunged into his regular program of weights, calisthenics, and stretches as she struggled to keep up with him across the vast, verdant courtyard.

"Count my reps, would you, dear?"

"But I'm reading the ..."

"There's a clicker counter in that pile. You have two paws, don't you? Right brain, left brain."

So equipped, Eleanor got to work. There was a pile of news and reports to get through, and though Eleanor was rattling off numbers and figures, political bills and thrallship requests so fast she forgot every other sentence, Ryoga responded to each bullet-point and equation as if reciting the alphabet. On the other paw, Eleanor's thumb clicked down Ryoga's every rep with automated precision: it was soon as natural to her as a sorcerer's talisman.

Eleanor got a break when a chariot came by, summoned to pick him up, but the wolf yielded it to her as they were not done with kingdom updates.

"Follow," was all he said, and then ran alongside Eleanor's horse and chariot as she finished with addendums and projected activities for next week. In the distance, Tina exercised with Sylvia, and shook her head as the chariot rattled off down the hill, their Crown Prince keeping up with it.

"Does he ever tire?" Tina asked, helping Sylvia stretch her leg. A sweet, tangy scent hit her nose, and she gulped as she looked down straight at the older lioness's tight, smooth slit.

"He's efficient, dear," Sylvia said as her muscles buckled, then a rush of endorphins sizzled through her. She purred as she felt a curious pair of fingers slide down her thigh. "Really, Tina; first thing in the morning?"

"Can we?"

The lioness tossed her legs over Tina's shoulders, her tits flopping upwards on either side of her chin, and grinned at the skunk with pearly white fangs. "You only had to ask," she said, watching the young skunk lower her muzzle down on her glistening labia.

***

All done, Ryoga dipped himself in a river that ran through the field, then came back up and shook himself off. Eleanor had given him the story as soon as she ran out of reports. The last leg of their journey had tired even the horse.

"You simultaneously embarrassed the entire Harem and discovered a potent technique," he stated, stepping back into his boots. "It reminds me of my puberty. What a youthful cataclysm. I'll have you back at that hole-in-the-wall to make amends. Reputation can't be recovered by money alone. How are you with carpentry?"

"I've never tried it, sire."

"Then sing something to inspire the laborers, provided you don't burn the place to the ground. Or did I misconstrue how this device works?"

Eleanor cringed. Even as this handsome, carved, naked wolf fiddled with his harness and stretched out his small, decorative cape, he carried on him the same royal prestige he displayed on a balcony, in full regalia, speaking before thousands.

"That's what I've found so far."

Ryoga inclined his head to the crest of two sunlit hills before them which obscured the palace of Jahaliya, and smiled as two chariots crested the top.

"That's why we have our archivist and a mage working on it. Already got the device back from that wolf officer through Sumber; he was astonished by its abilities on a second look."

Sylvia and Tina emerged from the bushes with wobbly legs; the insides of the lioness's thighs was coated with the same sweet, sticky substance Tina's right paw was. The skunk sucked on her fingers.

Lydra purred as she and Jessica carried a few scrolls to the wolf Prince and Eleanor. "So early in the morning, Harem Matron?" the mage asked as she dismounted her chariot.

"We had a free moment," Sylvia chuckled. Ryoga was aroused at the sight, and he nodded approvingly with a grin.

"Maybe Tina could do me next after we're done with business," the fox stated, then quickly thumbed through her notes. "The wand is quite powerful, and just as Eleanor suggested through the Lieutenant's notes it's a sort of arcane resonance magnifier. And, just as Eleanor's citation suggests, an excellent energy can really set the thing off-course."

"Hey!" Eleanor objected.

"It's a compliment, dear," Lydra interrupted, "However, a bull in a china shop is still a bull. What say you to a little practice in the firing range, so you can tiptoe around the teacups?"

"In the Majordomo's spell dojo?!"

"Where else? You started and stopped a riot with your voice."

Ryoga set his paw on the rabbit's shoulder reassuringly. "You've the opportunity to be a key Slut in my Harem. Take it. That's an order."

Eleanor's mind was spinning. Just what power were they seeing?

***

The indoor firing range was a vast, jagged cavern walled with dark, gleaming obsidian. Fire spells did not bounce off the walls so much as they absorbed into them, adding to the cavern's ethereal, ambient light. Horace met them at the entrance, and Lydra saw, past the bear's body, a variety of arcane testing equipment set out on a broad table in the center, the biggest of which was a large mounted crystal that seemed to sip light out of the air.

"I've only seen this equipment in books," Eleanor guiltily observed, "Did you really have to drag all this out here for me?"

"Yes, of course," Lydra said as she grabbed the rabbit by her bicep and pulled her into the room. Horace adjusted the mounted crystal filter to face Eleanor, then gave it a few taps with the back of his knuckle. A dampening breeze gusted through the room.

"Let's start at the very beginning," Lydra said, maneuvering the nervous bunny into position. "The logical place."

"D-do you mean the musical scale?"

Lydra seemed a little bemused. "Of course," the panther said, her ears falling back on her head. "Unless you'd prefer an opera to blow up half the kingdom."

Her sarcasm was noted. "Without my wand?"

"I don't think you'll need it, dear."

Eleanor cleared her throat, and slowly went through the paces of "Do, Re, Mi."

The rabbit was not halfway through the scale before the crystal began to vibrate, and as she progressed she saw the panther's claws, whiskers, and eyes begin to glow.

At the final "Do," the crystal cracked, and Lydra's paws were thumping against each other as she let out a cheer.

"A strong mana reaction!" she whooped, "A new power! Where did you learn it?"

"In the shower, I suppose."

"So much inspiration comes from there," the panther mused, pacing the room. Her tail snaked behind her excitedly, and her thigh-high boots clicked in the obsidian chamber. "Magic in music, a revelation in song; where did you get the wand?"

"Max?"

"Then he's more brilliant than I thought!" she exclaimed, "almost clairvoyant! No one's seen this ability before and here comes our shy warrior to pick out the perfect channeling device."

"The Goddess could have a hand in this," Horace added.

Lydra cupped her breasts and pointed her head at the ceiling in tribute. "Then bless Her as She blesses us all."

Horace rumbled low as his fat sheath swelled and Eleanor smiled at his sincerity.

"Let's continue with the tests," she interrupted, rearranging items on the table. There were potions, magic dust, metal wire structures, and small esoteric fetishes spread out before the rabbit. "I want to see exactly what we're dealing with."

Eleanor ran through each of the panther's strange trials through all these mysterious accessories, she singing arpeggios, pitches high and low, loud and soft, phrases from spellbooks and lyrics from songs that sprang from her mind in bursts. Horace followed the femmes, fastidiously taking notes of each result, alternating between satisfied grunts and perplexed harrumphs.

Eleanor ended the tests on a literal high note, and Lydra gasped as she fell to her knees, her pussy pulsing as her thighs ran wet.

"That's it, that's it! Keep going! Make it--Oh, Goddess..." she moaned, sandwiching her paws between her legs as she seeped.

Horace was rock hard, absorbed in his notes, but drooling pre-cum all the same down the base of his shaft, the sticky clear liquid slithering through the fur of his sac. He was panting with his mouth open, and Eleanor saw just how long the bear's tongue was.

"This must continue erst I bounce, unsatisfied, from cock to cock from here to Myscindyr and drown myself in Cetaes fucking a whale. Eleanor, sing something!" Lydra demanded as she turned around, slipping on her knees and landing tits-first in her puddle, "Ouch, damn ... Horace, bring that tongue over."

Eleanor's mind spun once again: she'd just caused a mage to orgasm and was about to take out a bear. The thrill of it was dizzying.

A strange song popped into her head, something brash, rude, and punk; something to throw away all pretenses of propriety as the mage panther sprawled out on the floor, legs spread wide with puffy pussy lips pulsing needfully, still leaking. Eleanor launched into the Yeastie Girls' "You Suck," an aggressive song all about what Horace was about to do.

The bear dove between Lydra's legs and dragged his massive tongue against her labia, flattening the broad muscle to caress the panther's entire crotch. He lapped up her juices as he pulled every inch of his footlong muscle across her slit and her clit.

Lydra howled in need, thrown straight into a second orgasm, and Horace ducked down again, pushing his cold wet nose against her bean as his fat tongue slithered into her tunnel, the silken walls squeezing and sucking him in, and when the majority was inside her and his muzzle opened around her pelvis to feed her the final inches, the panther threw her legs around his head and fucked herself on the wriggling leviathan.

"Oh Goddess; your tongue is power!" Lydra said to them both, beating the stone floor with her fists, "Give me more!"

Horace lifted her into the air, slobbering inside her and out. Her juices dribbled down his chin as he pulled out with a pop, teased her tender lips, nibbled the clitoris, and then with a loud, lewd schlorp thrust high and deep into her canal, which burned, sparked, throbbed so rapidly that the panther smacked his felty ear to get his attention.

"Turn me upside down. Now."

Eleanor saw the reciprocation, saw the dark panther flip herself on him like a feral beast, and comprehending what Lydra was doing, the rabbit quickly flipped the cunnilingual lyrics toward fellatio as the femme opened her muzzle wide, her hips still banging against the bear's muzzle, and swallowed a cock larger than her forearm.

The rabbit fanned herself, feeling herself grow nuclear below the waist and hard like twin diamonds above, her lust-soaked brain concentrating as hard as it could muster as she saw the bulge of Horace's cock travel from Lydra's lips, to her cheeks, to the base of her throat. Lydra's heavy tits swung on either side of her greedy jaw, and Horace above tore into her pussy like a starved werewolf.

I've turned a mage into a berserk nympho, Eleanor thought.

Eventually, this all came to a roaring, shuddering end, and as Eleanor capped the song off at the four minute mark, Lydra was gushing over Horace's muzzle while down below, the bear pulled out and hosed the panther's face with thick cords of cum, panting her face white and threatening to drown her as it rolled up her upside-down face and hung from her eyebrows and ears like rubbery stalactites.

Horace gently let Lydra down to her hands and knees, thumping her on the back as she coughed up gooey white wads. The nude femme panther was positively coated, the top half dripping in man juice while the bottom half ran with saliva and femmy nectar.

"Too much of a good thing ..." Horace nervously chuckled. "I came this morning; I didn't know there'd be a reserve ... motherlode ..."

"Fatherlode," she sarcastically corrected. Lydra lifted her arm and pointed straight at Eleanor. "Horace, don't underestimate your balls or your body with her around."

Eleanor gasped, frantically waving her paws. "I didn't mean it!"

"Yes you did. And you're fantastic. Now give me a song about rain; I need a shower."

The rabbit paused, crinkling her muzzle. "But those arcana tests ... I never summoned anything; didn't pull anything from thin air. That's not how this works."

"It's not thin air," Horace returned, pulling at his cock and shaking the residue off, "Air's real moist in here, especially after, um ... that voracious scene you inspired. I think my jaw's going to be sore for a month. Just channel the humidity, and make it snappy. My fur's drying."

"No worries," Eleanor said with a smile, and without her wand, quietly thanked a fellow rabbit as she conjured a tiny storm with "Though April showers may come your way/They bring the flowers that bloom in May..."

***

Eleanor was bounding through the rest of the day, skipping so high that she threatened to knock her head on high archways she passed under. When she found Max she nearly tackled him, leaping at him and swinging around and around his neck before he could finally catch her and trap her against his body. She kissed him deeply.

"Everything came true, Max, better and bigger that we could ever have imagined! Your gift has helped me discover my gift; I finally have a talent to rival the other Sluts! Of course, you know that; you were there ... how's your head?"

Max's smile beamed down at her: it was more soothing and invigorating than any of her songs. "I'm sure I could have taken five more chair shots before feeling it. The peaceful songs you ended with were better than a surgeon's needle."

Eleanor chittered and nuzzled herself into Max's breast. "Oh, I just wanted to tell you; I had to tell you as soon as possible. Can I see you tonight?"

"Well why not? I love you, don't I?"

"More than anything; you're the best," she said, standing on tip-paw to claim another kiss.

***

That night, Eleanor got her wand back. Lydra gave her a conspiratorial grin as she handed it over, saying, "Now you watch yourself. Don't want the Poacher Queen hearing you."

The rabbit rushed to Max's room, dodging servants, guards, and staff with the worry that if she'd slowed down, her heart would burst through her chest and roll there without her.

Max had prepared his bed with thistles and lavender petals, and lay nude among the delicious treats, his harness hung on the wall and his boots stacked together below it. He looked like a marble statue; Eleanor could hardly believe that it was sentient, furry, and most importantly, her lover.

"I thought I'd start with a song," she began, whispering into the wand. The room hummed warmly with her voice and poured it back into her ears like the Goddess' own Blessing.

She chose "Afternoon Delight," by the Starland Vocal Band. Her own voice was joined by an ambrosial gang of harmonies, and as it filled the room Eleanor saw Max's body brace itself, he propping himself on his elbows as his sheath swelled and brought forth a most resilient nine-inch erection, the hot rabbit flesh hard above his stomach, swaying heavily with his faint moments on the bed.

Eleanor wasted no time and crawled up onto the silk sheets, cradling his hot shaft against her cheek and nuzzling it as she continued to sing. The skin was soft but his cock was hard, a delight to the nose and her lips, but she had other plans for it. During breaks in the song she dragged her tongue across it, teasing the head and lavishing the length. The wand took care of the instrumental bridges, leaving Eleanor to fondle his musky sac and squeeze a few drops of pre from the shaft. Halfway through the song, when her lover's length was wet and glistening, she sat up on him and lowered herself down.

His cock pressed between her velvety labia and Eleanor pulled a paw through her headfur as it gradually split her, her pussy wrapping around it as it filled her. Skin against skin, she gyrated her hips against him, resisting the urge to groan as she took his admirable mast, and then stretched every wall inside her as she invited his release.

The song matched perfectly with their rhythm, surrounding them in an ethereal mist of harmony and passion. Eleanor stroked her lover's firm abdomen as the lewd, slurping sounds of sex interwove themselves with her lyrics and provocation. She saw Max's eyes glaze over as he resisted the inevitable, but the grey rabbit kept at him as his legs bucked behind her, her tail wagging as her cunny pulled at him.

Finally, it was too much, and Max's caramel body went stiff as he gushed inside of her, filling her tunnel with a sweet, hot stream the likes of which she'd little known. Eleanor felt her groin swell as her canal filled to capacity, and when she began to leak Eleanor kept the deluge going with an orgasm of her own, groaning as she she set the wand down and braced herself against Max.

Her pussy cramped, clamping down on his cock as it milked it for all it was worth. She bucked against him and he thrust back; she gasped as it jabbed into the final inch of her cunt and locked herself tight against him. The blaze in her loins washed over with a perfect sense of relief, and as she rested her sweaty brow against his jaw, she noticed that her nethers sloshed and squished against his.

"Oh Goddess, oh, Goddess ..." one of them said. The other assented: this revelation in song was a truly potent ability, one that Eleanor would only make better with every indoor fight ... and every fuck.

Max eventually recovered, and sat up on the bed with his lover firmly positioned against him, around him. He chuckled, "I only wonder what to get you for your birthday."