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To say that Rory was stunned would have been putting it simply. In the course of a matter of hours his entire worldview had been shaken to the core.

His father, Royal Ambassador to the Sultanate Edward Clayton, upheld by all within his social circles and beyond as a rock solid pillar of what it meant to be an Imperial. The clever son of a merchant that had somehow brokered an incredible deal with the new Sultan. How he graciously allowed his father to handle some of the trade, which had allowed Grandfather Alan to retire in comfort and spend his days in Gentleman’s Clubs, rubbing shoulders with nobility as they smoked fine cigars and traded stories. His father had married into a fine family, had a pious wife, an intelligent son, all of whom observed every last holiday and tenant of the Church’s teachings. There were some weeks where Rory felt as if he spent more time in church or school than in his own home.

Yet here they were. Both males only in the lightest of clothing, both with drinks in their hands that his father was heavily imbibing from, and both reeking of sex with others. Not just others, but members of the Sultanate, who were seen as useful trade allies but not ones to ‘mingle’ with. And to top all that off, his father had just finished describing a night he’d had with four women and a man some thirty years ago. The man being the current Sultan. All before revealing that Rory had siblings by a woman that his father wasn’t married to?

Rory tipped back his drink, eyes watering as it burned down his throat. The eighteen year old stallion coming out in a coughing fit. Eyes watering as that burning warmth spread through his chest and settled into his gut.

“Easy there, Son,” his father murmured, “Meant to sip this. If you want something you can down, I could certainly call for something. Another?” Edward angled the bottle towards his son.

He shook his head and snorted as he dropped back. “How many?” Edward perked an ear towards his son. “You’d mentioned the twins a moment ago. Are they the only siblings I don’t know about?” A brow arched, “Or is it them and I?”

Edward looked him right in the eye. Then downed his entire glass in one gulp before pouring a second. “You know,” he mused as he watched the amber liquid fill the glass, “there’s a part of me that had always been excited at idea of sharing this with you one day. Now I’m just terrified that I am.” He didn’t down the glass, rather just lifted and looked at it for a while.

Seconds before Rory could grow even more uncomfortable and speak up, his father started. “There’s the twins, Ama and Mori. A boy just under a year older than you, Fynn. And little Tisa is the youngest, she’s turning six this year.” He caught the wide-eyed look that Rory was giving him and held up his hand. “Before you jump to any conclusions or judge me too harshly, I have another story for you. A much shorter, far less detailed one.

“You know Ms. Becraft, yes? Freda Becraft?” Rory nodded slowly. Ms. Becraft was over at their home often enough that she joked she might as well moved in. Which she did when there was work being done on her house. She was a Spinster and proud of it, claiming that no man could handle her. “She and your mother are… Well, they’re a lot closer than your mother and I are. I only discovered it because Freda decided to come talk with me after I began to court your mother.” He chuckled softly, “She and I spoke for a while, shared some drinks, and she threatened to plant her hoof right in my family jewels and keep it there should I ever harm Vanessa. I thought it was just the banter of a dear friend until I came back here. Nweh and Leyla burst out laughing when I recounted it to them. Told me their interpretation of it. Took me a while to get Freda somewhere I could ask her in private. Even had to share some of my secrets with her to gain her trust.”

He looked right at Rory, “There isn’t an adult in this world that doesn’t have some form of secrets hidden away, Rory. Don’t trust anyone that says otherwise.”

Edward sighed, “I wish dearly that your mother and Freda could be together as they wish. Just as I wish that I could be with Batool. Rikh and I have both been working to influence our cultures as much as possible where we can, but it’s like punching a mountain. Only so much can be done but sometimes all you need is that little crack you can wedge open.”

Arasha draped her arms around Edward from behind, the lioness having slipped up on the pair, “And your father is very good at wedging open cracks.” Her smile was wide and eyes practically glowed, “Am I interrupting something special?”

“Yes you are, you overgrown house cat.” Ed’s voice was soft even as he leaned back to kiss at the lioness’ neck. “Would like your input on the matter as a whole though since I am sure you have been listening.”

She laughed and roamed around Edward’s chair before practically flowing onto the couch Rory occupied, “Yes, as has Talir.” The cheetah blushed hard from the doorway and half ducked back. The pale white lioness smirking as she leaned against Rory. Not in a sexual way, but in rather friendly manner. “Father and Edward have been playing the long game. When you were born I had questioned why they didn’t raise you equally between the two kingdoms, Rory.”

Edward’s sigh reminded Rory of a teacher who was beyond weary of explaining something to a stubborn student. “I had suggested it to Vanessa. She came with me, toured the city, saw the sights, but was somewhat reticent when you were left with the harem to be watched over.” He pointed at the lioness, “Young Arasha was more than happy to take care of little Rory, as was Batool.”

A sniff came from the lioness, “She hadn’t weened Fynn yet so she was ore than ready and pleased to tend to her third son, as she called you.”

The older stallion snorted, “While I don’t fault your mother for wanting to stay closer to her lover, I do wish that she had been a little more lenient with allowing you to travel. Could have eased you into it a bit more over time rather than just dumping it all in your lap.”

Speaking of his lap, Arasha’s claws were steadily working towards his lap. Rory’s eyes dancing from her hand up to his father and back.

Edward heaved a sigh, “Are there any other questions, Son?”

Rory shook his head, trying to ignore the hand that was steadily creeping up his thigh. Nostrils flaring to pick up the lioness’ scent as she lounged against him. Finding it impossible to ignore her warmth as it pressed to his side. “I… I’ll have to think about all this, finding it a little hard to focus.”

Glass came down with a soft clink, “Then I’ll let you think about it. Take all the time you need, Rory. You know where to find me if you have any other questions that you want answers.” He gave a stretch and groaned as his weary bones creaked and popped. “Not as young of a beast as I used to be, late nights are not becoming of me anymore.” Standing, the stallion worked his back slowly, “And son?” Rory tried to answer, but it came out as a somewhat surprised snort as her hand found its way under his clothing to stroke his manhood. “I’m sorry for all this. I never wanted to make you into anything you didn’t want to, but I did want you to have a more open worldview than you were allowed.” Edward started off, “And Arasha, don’t break my son please.”

“I make no promises.” She grinned as she fished out that cock with a grin, leaning in to lick over the thick head.

Rory full on fell back against the couch, “Ah, I should really be getting to bed…” stalling as he bit his bottom lip, watching as the lioness lowered her maw over his cock. Warm lips and tongue brushing over his flesh with a hungry growl. Nostrils flaring again as he shifted, moving to stand up. Her maw shook with a low growl, claws extending just enough to prick at his belly fur. Only retracting as he relaxed again.

Arasha’s tail flicked behind her as she bobbed her head on his cock. Easily and readily taking him deep with each bob of her head before pulling back. “Young Rory Clayton, all grown up.” She flashed a grin as she looked up at him, locking eyes as she lowered her head to lick over his balls. “I have been wanting this all week now.” His breath was coming in faster gasps as her rough tongue groomed his sac and up to his base. Kissing his cock lightly, “Do you really want me to stop?”

“N…no.” He panted. Oh fuck, he couldn’t have said no even if he’d really wanted to. Felt like there wasn’t a single drop of blood flowing to his brain right now. Her tease in the harem had only been a taste. He was seeing the future sultan in all her glory right now. That intense stare driving him back into the couch as her tongue bathed his flesh. Low growls rolling up as she crawled over his body.

At the harem, she’d nearly brought him to finish with a tease. Now, under the sheer intensity of her predatory nature, he knew he wouldn’t be finishing until she allowed him to. By the same token, he’d never been this excited in his life. Cock rigid as it could be, standing against her belly and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He could only watch, chest heaving with anticipation, as she crawled over him. Silken fur giving way to the warmth of her excitement. Entrance toying across his head before the lioness sat back.

Twin cries lifted through the air as his girth spread her. Arasha rocking back with a pleased yowl as she was spread by the stallion. Rory squealing as her warmth engulfed him, grasping at the couch.

Her hands swept over his head and drew him into a kiss. Tongue driving right into his maw as she growled lustfully. Her heels hooking under his thighs as she pulled herself down. Breaking the kiss with a gasp the instant their bodies met with a solid clap of flesh on flesh.

“Oh,” she growled happily, pressing her groin tight to his as she ground into him. “I think you might be a little larger than your father.” She smirked and leaned back, rocking her hips against his to grind him within her walls. Leaning back, she smiled down at Rory. Somehow looking every inch the royal predator as she perched atop her throne of flesh. “Does it feel good?’

Arasha lifted her hips, letting him see how her juices were clinging to his shaft before dropping with the heavy clap of ass on thighs.

Rory gasped, “Y-yes!” and arched again, fighting to keep from bucking into her.

Elbows rested on his chest as the lioness leaned forward. Nose nearly touching his as her eyes bore into him. “Then fuck me like you mean it.” Grabbing his mane in one hand, she dove down into a hungry kiss. Body lifting enough to draw him out, only to drive back as his hips stirred and tried to buck up.

The stallion grunted with the buck and kiss. Going cross-eyed at the intensity of it. His hands tried to come up to grip her. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head. Rory tried to lift his legs and plant them on the couch, but she denied him again. Insides clenching about him as she drove her weight back, knocking his legs flat again. Low growl pressing through the kiss as she rolled her body into him. Only moving just enough to keep him worked up.

Rory twisted and tried to pull away from the kiss, she wasn’t even giving him that. Nostrils flared as he snorted under her. Squirming under the lioness as he tried to buck or grab or do anything. Body arching under her, physically lifting the lioness. She growled and tried to push him back down, muscles rippling under that snowy pelt.

Her body crashed against his as he twisted. Kiss breaking with a surprised yelp as the pair of them tumbled off the couch. Rory’s larger frame crashing into hers as they landed with the lioness on top. Arasha’s hands flying up under his arms and around his chest as she arched under him. Rory snorting as hooves clattered off the ground before he dug in with a hard thrust. Rocking her body under him with the force of his next instinctive thrust.

Body pulled back and hesitated as he realized just how hard they’d both come down. “Don’t you stop now,” she growled into his ear, planting a bite there.

Rory grunted and slammed in, rocking Arasha under him. She groaned and wrapped her leg tighter about his body, driving up into his thrust. The lioness knew he was inexperienced, her heels digging into his rear and guiding him into each thrust. While he focused on the most basic part of it, she was rolling and lifting her hips. One hand freeing itself from his shoulder to slide between their bodies, fingers brushing over her clit. Voice lifting up towards him as her lips found his throat.

It was an entirely different beast than Talir. It wasn’t just having sex with a woman, but Arasha was completely different in how she wanted it. Form twisting and writhing under him. Urging him to take her that much harder. Coaxing him, pushing him, drawing him deeper as she gasped and cried out under him. Expertly working the stallion into a frenzy.

Consumed by the act, Rory lost track of everything but the lioness under him. He wasn’t even aware of when he was driving against her. Just that one moment he was pounding and the next he was balls-deep within her. Balls jumping as he loosed his load into her depths.

Rory shivered over her and lowered his head. Panting as Arasha pressed her cheek up against his and nuzzled. “There we go. Are you feeling better now?”

A shuddering sigh came from Rory, relaxing slowly now as he lay over top her. “Yeah,” he admitted, blinking as a shiver passed through him. The lioness smiled up at him and wiggled her hips, pushing at him ever so lightly.

Rory’s ears perking as he sat back and watched his cock slide out of her. Arasha’s fingers dipping down to rub her pussy lips as he came loose. “Look at how messy you are.” She looked past him with a smirk, “Talir, do you want to join us? Maybe help me clean up your stallion?” Tongue rolled against her lips as she stared at Rory.

The cheetah came around the couch, looking both timid and excited at the same time. Low purrs rolling up his chest as he slunk up beside Arasha. Both lioness and cheetah bringing their tongues to bear on his flesh. Drawing breathy huffs from Rory as hands and tongues brought him to mast again. “Oh my,” Arasha purred, “Would you look at that. What do you think we should do with our stallion, Talir?” Tracing the pulsing vein that ran up the side of his length as she grinned.

Kill him at this rate, Rory huffed as his ears fell back. Seeing the devious grin that was spreading across the cheetah’s lips as well.

——————

Try as they might, and they did try very hard, Rory survived that evening. And many more evenings, not all of them as intense as that. What surprised him most was that his father gave him room. While it didn’t feel as if Edward were avoiding him, Rory couldn’t help but notice when his father would avoid a room or cut breakfasts short.

At first, he’d been worried about it, but Arasha pointed out that Edward was only wanting to make sure to give him what room was needed while he thought about everything.

It was still a little disconcerting, try as he might. Rory did find himself thinking on it a fair bit as he explored the town and palace. Talir always at his side, ready to help take his mind off it one way or another. More than ready to take Rory some new place to experience something he’d never dreamt of.

Which is where they were going now. Talir had something he wanted to show Rory and the cheetah was practically bouncing with each step. “And you won’t tell me where we’re going?”

Talir flashed a wide grin, “And ruin the surprise? Please Rory, you must be having patience.”

His tail twitched behind him as the cheetah rounded a corner, nearly running face-first into Rory’s father. He skidded ever so slightly and stopped, eyes wide, “Apologies, Sir.” Talir offering a bow and stepping closer to the wall.

“That’s okay, Talir.” Rory stopped just around the corner and looked. His father was wearing some finer robes, a zebra mare with some gray showing in her stiff mane a step behind him. Behind her was a quartet of other zebra, all looking from Rory to Edward a bit. Each one wearing fine, light robes done in earthy colors and sharp patterns. His father’s ear twitching before he looked at the matriarch of the herd. “It’s okay, I finally let him know,” voice just above a whisper.

“Oh praise the heavens, about fucking time you did.” One of the mares called out and bustled forward. She was easily a head taller than even Rory, muscles rippling about her bare arms as she slammed into the percheron. A collective sigh from the herd following in her wake as she literally lifted Rory in a hug, swinging the stallion about. “Oh I have wanted to do this for years!”

If the sudden hug and lift hadn’t stunned Rory, the fact that his face was buried between her ample breasts would have.

The pair rocked as something impacted the mare’s back, “Ama!” came a sharp voice, “You let the poor boy down now before you kill him.” The voice was deep and rich, “Tsk, would have thought I raised her without manners.”

“Sorry mother,” the mare laughed, setting Rory down and giving his shoulder a hard clap as she backed up. “Sorry Rory.” Lips pulled back into a wide grin, “We have all heard endless praises about our brother-from-another for many years. Getting to see you finally is something I have thought about for many years.” Both hands fell to his shoulder, “It is good to see you.”

Rory’s ears lifted then fell back as he looked over her. Instead of the stark black and white of her mother, who had to be Batool, this Ama had a more grayish hide, stripes giving way to dappled pelt along her arms. Arms which were positively rippling with muscle.

Looking past her, he saw a stallion about the same age and nearly same markings, though more Rory’s height. Must be Mori, the other half of the Twins. Another stallion looked to be about Rory’s age and height, looking nearly full zebra with strong white and black stripes, though a hint of gray about his ears and peeking out from under his clothes. And the last a younger mare whose pitch-black pelt only bore the faintest ghosts of stripes, still pressed closed to her mother and watching with big eyes.

Edward took a step forward, “Ama, please do not crush him yet.” He began to introduce each in turn, “Ama you already know. Mori, Fynn, Tisa, and of course Batool.” He stepped closer to the mare and gently draped an arm around her. The zebra giving him a look before pulling him tighter to her side. “This is Rory and Talir.” Talir bowed towards the others before stepping closer to Rory, though staying out of Ama’s grabbing range. Rory hesitating before bowing as well. “While I have finally told him about… everything now, he is still processing it all, I believe.”

That arched brow was something all too familiar. Rory’s ears falling back before lifting slightly, “It is a lot to take in.”

Batool’s hand stilled against Edward’s arm to keep him from responding, “And that is understandable.” She smiled at Rory, “You take all the time you need, and whatever is chosen will be understandable to us.” Her hand lifted to swat Edward’s chest, “I told you to fill him in over time, not dump it all at once. Tsk.” She heaved a sigh and smiled, “Not your fault, Rory. Nor exactly your father or even your mother’s. More,” she waved her hand, “that place.” Her expression softened and she flashed a smile, “So where are you off to?”

Rory found himself relaxing a bit at the zebra’s matronly tone, “Ah, Talir was going to take me somewhere, which he hasn’t said where yet.”

Eight equines turned to look at Talir, the cheetah’s ears falling back, “It.. It is a surprise for Rory, something he might enjoy to take his mind off…” Fingers tapped nervously as the cheetah backed up a half-step, “Things.”

A snort came from one of the zebra group, “It’s fine, I had things I wanted to go do.” The stallion about Rory’s age gave the barest of bows before he was off.

“Fynn!” Edward called, then let out a sigh and rubbed his head.

Batool stroked Edward’s back, “It is fine, you know that Fynn does not do well with new people. And Rory,” her tone immediately had the draft horse’s attention. Her smile soft as she nodded her head, “Go, have fun with Talir. We will be around for many weeks if you wish to talk.”

Then she was gone. Herd following and even Edward moving without complaint, the matriarch’s hand never moving from the small of his back.

Rory found himself watching after them. Ears pinning back a little as Batool leaned against his father’s shoulder and said something that made the elder Clayton laugh. It was a strange sight for certain. He couldn’t even recall seeing his father hold his mother’s hand, and yet here he was, laughing with his arm draped about this other woman’s shoulders with their children ranging about them. There was a pang of something within the stallion that upset him. Was it jealous? Hurt? Certainly both. Rory wondering why he had been relegated to being isolated from everything for his entire life.

A light hand brushed the small of his back, “Come come, Rory.” Talir’s warmth pressed to his side, “Unless you’d rather stay here?”

He sighed, looked at the herd, then draped his arm around Talir. “No, I need to get out of here for a bit.”

The city surrounding the palace was a familiar sight. With Talir as his faithful guide, Rory had ventured down a great many of its streets over the last few weeks. Having permission from the Sultan and being who he was allowed the pair to linger in places where Talir had only gotten to walk through before. There were plenty of times where they just kind of wandered about at their leisure. Rory in awe and Talir always ready with some place to visit or food to try.

Rory found himself lost in thought, merely following Talir as the cheetah roamed through the city streets. Thoughts returning to everything his father had told him. Much as he was loathe to admit, there was a cold logic to what his father had done. Get down to it and the Sultanate and the Empire were more similar than not, two sides of the same coin. While one appeared freer and more relaxed, Rory knew from history that the freedom came at a price and only to the most privileged. Things had improved and moved forward, but there were still people like Talir’s mother and siblings who lived in squalor. His mother having to literally sell herself to survive.

Likewise the Empire was rather restrictive unless you were privileged enough to have some vices, yet all called. Or poor enough that none cared. Where, if one was caught living outside of what was Righteous then Atonement would be sought. Atonement being anything from service to the church, to loss of property, all the way to arrest or execution.

Things had been relaxing, and he had always known that his father had some small voice in that. Starting small with relaxing some standards for the occasional visit from Sultan Rikh and his entourage. Little changes that were rippling outward with each passing year.

Then there was him. What on Earth was he supposed to do? He was only just an adult. He still had university before him and he didn’t even know what he wanted to do beyond that. What could he do beyond that? Follow in his father’s footsteps? Become the Ambassador to the Sultanate? He’d have to work his way up through so much stuff and put up with even more restrictions. All for what? The chance to come here and unwind? And what of Talir? He knew that the cheetah didn’t like women, but could he reasonably expect the cheetah to stick around just for him to visit for several months out of the year?

A bump brought him back. Talir looking up at the taller stallion with a curious expression. “You’ve been off in a world of your own. Is everything okay, Rory?”

“Lot on my mind.” He tried to smile for Talir, but it was a weak thing. It faded with a sigh and Rory found himself stepping off the street to lean against a building. “Talir… I don’t know how good of company I’ll be tonight. I don’t want to ruin your surprise, I mean you planned all this out and…”

Gentle fingers brushed over his muzzle. Talir bringing his muzzle down so they could look eye-to-eye. The cheetah smiling oh so sweetly, “Life sucks.” His expression soured a bit before he breathed out a sigh, giving the percheron’s cheeks a light pat, “It is entirely unfair to all likes to hit us all with surprises.” Talir shook his head, “The surprise can wait a day or two. Come find me when you are feeling more yourself, Rory Clayton.”

He blinked in surprise as the cheetah stepped away, holding one of his arms as he started off. “Talir…” the cat didn’t look back as his stride lengthened. “Talir!” he called, but the cheetah was ducking into an alleyway. By the time Rory got there, his friend was gone.

In an instant, Rory was angry. Teeth grinding as heart pounded in his ears, limbs shaking. How dare Talir just walk away from him! After everything they had been through, after everything he’d done…

Fingers relaxed as Rory slumped against the wall with a huff. He couldn’t stay mad at Talir, not when it was his own damned fault. Staring into the alley, he found himself thinking back to when he’d first got here. How he’d been so nervous he could barely get his words out. Unsure of every word that came out. Talir had gladly accepted his role as given by the Sultan and Rory saw the cheetah as easily the closest friend that he’d ever had. Well, he was more than that.

Talir had been beyond patient with him over the last couple weeks. Listening to Rory talk and debate. Though he was a bit hesitant to distract the stallion. Something that Arasha had no qualms about doing if she felt Rory had been brooding too long. He had jut been feeling like he could come to terms with things. Which is why they were heading out today to do some exploration and whatever surprise.

At least until they’d seen the herd.

“You are looking rather sorry.” Rory’s ear twitched at the strange voice before turning to look back to the main street. He had to shield his eyes against the brightness of the street, squinting as the figure stepped towards him.

Fynn crossing arms over his chest, “Thought you were going off somewhere with your friend.”

Of all the people that could have found him, why did it have to be one of them. Rory grumbled as he pushed off the wall, “Something came up and Talir had to head home. We’re going to be meeting up later.” Squaring his shoulders, he made for the street, “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s rather warm and I’m going back to the palace.”

Without thinking, Rory bounced his shoulder into Fynn’s as he strode forward. Rory hadn’t done it terribly often, but large as he was it didn’t matter. This time, he was trying to check a stallion that was his equal in size and build.

Rather than pressing past, Rory found himself spinning off the sturdy stallion and into the wall. “Are you certain it isn’t your charming personality that drove your chew toy away?”

Teeth ground as Rory bounced off the wall, “Don’t pretend like you know me?”

Flynn met him chest-to-chest with a snarl of his own. Lips peeling back to reveal teeth as his ears folded flat, “I don’t?” They were nose-to-nose, chests pressed flush, ears hot with anger as the zebra-percheron shoved against him. Rory’s hooves digging into the ground to keep from sliding back. “I don’t know about Rory Clayton, the golden child? I didn’t grow up hearing Father sing the praises of Rory Clayton? How strong Rory Clayton is becoming?”

Ears were growing hot as Flynn growled at him, “Oh family, you won’t believe how wonderful my son Rory is doing at school. The teachers do nothing but praise him. No matter what is thrown at him, Rory Clayton only rises the to challenge!” Fynn’s breath burned as it puffed against his face. Eyes darted a bit as he snorted. “Surprised that my Father never mentioned how pretty you are as well.”

Hooves dug into the ground as Rory pressed back, knocking Fynn back a step. “You think it’s been easy? Father glaring down his nose at me. Never a word of kindness. Always pushing me because it was never good enough, my pronunciation wasn’t tight enough. Words were slurring, hand writing was sloppy, I didn’t carry a fucking two.” Breath was coming faster now, lip just starting to quiver, “Sit up straighter, don’t fidget, listen to every word that your teachers, that your preachers say, everything must be adhered to.” A lifetime of having to hold myself to standards that he couldn’t even hold himself to? Told that I couldn’t even think about sex outside of marriage all while he had a whole family that I never knew of? Siblings that I never got to meet? A loving, laughing mother. Beautiful sisters. Handsome brothers…”

Striped ears fell back before stood again. “Oh boo hoo, you pretty boy. Get anything you want, fine foods, fine clothes, the best education that Father’s money can buy.”

They stared at each other for a moment, fine hairs on their muzzles tickling each other. Staring into each other’s eyes as they vented every bit of pent up shared frustration over their different upbringings and experiences with their father.

Velvety lips met Fynn’s arms wrapped about him, the pair falling back into the wall as they pulled into that unexpected kiss. Angry snorts turning into throaty grunts as forms were pressed against close.

Quick as it begun, the kiss parted and Rory’s ears fell back for a second before one crept forward. Meeting Fynn’s gaze as the stallions panted at each other. He licked his lips, still close enough that his tongue brushed over his half-brother’s. “Pretty?”

A snort came from the dappled hybrid, “Handsome?” His hands roaming up Rory’s back and pulling tighter. Both stallion’s blushing hotly as they realized that their sheaths were pressed tight to each other. Both coming to the surprising realization at how thin either of their garments were. Erecting lengths throbbing against one another, riled by the other.

Rory took a quick step back and cleared his throat, doing his best to reach down and adjust himself without being too obvious about it. “Seems we might have a lot to talk about, Fynn… do you have a last name?”

Despite his blush, Fynn leaned against the wall with a smile, “No. And great many things, Rory Clayton.” He licked his lips and reached to grasp his own bulge, “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

Even though they shared a laugh, Rory found himself looking over the unknown sibling with thoughts that would most certainly be frowned upon by countless numbers of his elders. He cleared his throat and shook his mane out, “Would prefer somewhere private, personally.”

Fynn was next to him in a moment, arm draping about his shoulder and pulling him close, “Come then, I know of a place we can talk.”

Steps were quick, easily matching Fynn’s stride. Though there was a slight shift to Rory’s walk as he tried to keep his rising excitement from being too obvious as they roamed through the streets. Ears folding back a bit with a quiet whuffle as the lighter fabric of his clothes kept teasing over his length.

“Where are we going?” he asked after a few streets.

A quiet snort came from Fynn, “Place I know, has private rooms so we can talk.” His ears fell back, “Seems we have more in common than I would have thought.”

Rory nodded, the other stallion’s words still ringing in his ears. “Let me pay for it though.” He reached for his wallet, paused, “Ah, how much is the private rooms?”

Fynn slowed a step and looked over, “If you don’t have the money for it, I will cover, Rory.”

He shook his head, “No no, I just didn’t want to pull it all out at once.” The way those brows bounced and that smirk made him bluster, “I mean… I don’t want to pull out all the money at once.” He snorted, “You’re right, I am a bit of a rich kid.”

“We can work some sense into you,” A heavy hand clapped on his back as Fynn told him how much the rooms generally were. Both brows lifting as Rory fished out the money with some extra, “You weren’t lying.”

Handing over the money, Rory tucked the rest away, “I try not to, it would be unbecoming.” Rory rolled his shoulders a bit, “Would have a great deal less if it weren’t for Talir dickering over prices.” A frown started across his features, “Really screwed that up.”

Another of Fynn’s hard shoulder pats brought him back, “If it is important then it can be fixed. Ah here we are.”

Rory had probably walked past the building a dozen time without glancing twice at it. There was no name over the door, just a simple sign showing a drink and food. A beaded curtain leading way to a rather open public area. Despite being early evening, there were only a few people lounging about.

Fynn gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Wait here,” and moved to the bar where a rather weary looking cape buffalo was cleaning cups. Leaning into the counter, the stallion flashed a smile, joked, and exchanged money for a key. Waving for Rory to join him as he ventured down a hall. “We have the room for as long as we need to talk. Drinks and food coming soon.”

The room was at the end of the hall and was rather plain. Piles of cushions that had seen better days tucked into one corner around a low table, a bed, and an unlit lamp hanging from a chain. Everything looked clean enough.

“Not the best of places,” Fynn snorted, “but it’s away from the Palace.” He cast a smile over his shoulder, ‘Come here when I get tired of hearing about Rory Clayton.” Features twisted a bit as he angled his head. Tail twitching a bit behind him as he thought over it. “Now I am bringing Rory here to talk. There’s a word for this in Imperial that escapes me.”

“Irony?”

Fynn snapped his fingers and dropped onto a cushion, “That is it.” His ears laid back, “Would you mind if we speak in the Empire tongue? I wish to practice.”

After weeks of speaking only Sultanate, it was weird to turn, “I wouldn’t mind it. It has been weeks since I spoke it myself.” He barely sank into a cushion himself before there was a sharp knock at the door. Just the single rap before the buffalo came in with a tray that he set down and left. “Well,” Rory blinked, “rather quick service.”

“He is good about that,” Fynn mumbled, words slow and heavily accented. “As I said, not best, but clean, good food, and private.”

Rory nodded and sank back into the cushion, watching as Fynn poured whatever drink he’d picked into two cups. Sliding one towards Rory’s end of the table before taking one for himself. A soft cough coming from Rory as he shifted, “So… show me yours I’ll show you mine? What was that about?”

“Take off your clothes and I’ll let you know?” Fynn smirked over his cup, nearly choking on his drink at the shocked look on Rory’s face. “I half-kid. It is something from our tribe. Men are encouraged to be with others about their age, keeps in fighting down.” He rolled his shoulders in a broad shrug, “Helps relax, so if you wanted to,” he mirrored stroking a cock, “before we chat, could take a few.”

He looked at the stallion for a long moment, trying to decide if he were lying or what. Fynn was a hard read and it actually made sense, in a strange way. Even with his somewhat limited sexual experience, Rory knew how relaxed he was after. “Well… alright.”

Fynn was hard-pressed to hide his surprise as Rory actually began to disrobe. His eyes dancing over Rory’s form as it was bared. Dappled gray hide rippling across muscles built by a youth engaging in sports and other such ‘manly’ pursuits that were seen as healthy by those within Rory’s social standing. There wasn't’ a single blemish on the percheron’s body, not a hair out of place. And that cock, oh that cock was looking very nice too. Even half-erect as it was, it was deliciously thick looking and swayed nicely as the stallion sat down again with a quiet huff. Cheeks coloring and ears folding flat before he started to stroke his member.

A cloth landed next to him, “Hassim knows what I often do in here, so he gives some towels.” Fynn smiled as he started to undress.

Rory found himself staring at his half-brother as the male bared himself. They were built along the same lines. Broad, strong chest, muscles won over a lifetime of work. Though while his were from fun and games, Fynn’s body bore a few scars that suggested the zebra had a rougher life. His stripes faded to a familiar dappled gray about his chest and back. Dark cock swaying between his legs as he stripped down.

Whuffling quietly, the percheron leaned back and closed his eyes. Stroking over his cock steadily, Huffing as precum spilled over his fingers. Letting him ease over his flesh that much faster. Ear twitched, bringing him the sound of Fynn shifting about. No doubt seeking similar relaxation methods before they talked.

A rougher hand closed about his shaft and soft lips lapped at his tip. Rory’s eyes flying open to find Fynn kneeling between his legs. The hybrid smirking up at him as he lowered his head. Long muzzle readily sliding down the draft horse’s mighty cock with a slurp. Tongue rolling about Rory’s member and easing it against flat teeth and the roof of his mouth as Fynn bobbed his head steadily.

Rory’s maw fell open in a gasp as his half-brother went to work. Countless voices of how wrong this was being silenced by the skill of his tribal sibling.

Hips jerked as those lips curled about his tip before bobbing down, Fynn brushing Rory’s hand aside so he could take the stallion’s cock right to the root. Not something that Talir or even Arasha had readily been able to do for long. Yet here he was with Fynn’s muzzle buried in his lap for a surprising amount of time. Lapping at his precum as I spilled freely onto the zebra’s tongue.

Thighs spread as the stallion sank back with a groan. Hand falling to his belly as Fynn smiled up at him. Tongue rolling over the shaft before he drew back and off with a huff. “I told you that men are encouraged to be with others about their age. Includes frolicking together.”

Breath was coming in shorter huffs, “Oh,” as he squirmed “Makes sense now that I…” He arched with a groan as Fynn’s fingers pressed against his rear. “Ffffuck.”

Fynn’s ears shot up, “Now that’s a word I don’t recognize. Should I stop?”

Rory was shaking his head with a groan, squirming as the fingers probed his rear. “N-no, it’s… it’s good.” His rear clenched about the finger as he gasped. Talir had played with him in similar ways before, so he wasn’t entirely a stranger to it. However, Talir’s fingers weren’t nearly as thick nor was the cheetah as aggressive as the hybrid.

He barely had a second to breathe before Fynn’s maw was engulfing his cock again. Bobbing hungrily as he slurped about the cock. Humming happily as the cock throbbed within his maw. Fingers driving into the rear and hooking. Rubbing Rory in just the right way to make the draft horse rock and groan.

Between Talir and Arasha, Rory liked to think that he was getting some education in how to last. Not to mention building his stamina.

And Fynn was absolutely ruining any soft of control he had. He was every bit as assertive as Arasha was, but with all the skill Talir had. Tongue dancing against Rory’s crown then slurping over his entire length. Keeping the cock buried within his muzzle for longer and longer periods of time. Each time that Rory would just start to catch his breath, those fingers would press in and rub against his prostate, sending him right back up, bucking into Fynn’s maw.

No way he was going to last and Fynn knew this.

Lips and tongue were playing with Rory’s tip, catching every drop of precum the instant it appeared. Hand steadily working over the shaft and down to tease the stallions’ balls. Weighing and rolling them. All while the fingers kept pumping in and out of his rear. Lips sealed about his tip and the hand jumped to his shaft, pumping madly a mere second before Rory felt that familiar clench and release as his orgasm hit.

Muzzle vibrated around his length as Fynn breathed out a deeper noise. Swallowing readily around the cock as Rory unleashed all he had and more. His half-brother dutifully gulping down every last drop that was offered up.

Rory fell back with a huff, reeling from what was perhaps the best blow job he’d ever received. “That was amazing,” he muttered, head reeling from it.

Strong hands gripped his thighs and lifted them, pressing Rory back into the cushion. His eyes opened right as Fynn’s maw pressed to his, cum-covered tongue pressing into the surprised male’s mouth. Rory’s cheeks colored as he tasted himself on the male’s tongue, suckling on it as his hands came to rest on Fynn’s powerful, broad chest. Kiss breaking with a huff, “Then perhaps it shall be my turn.”

A firm warmth pushed against Rory’s rear, tail twitching as a broad cock head was pressed under his tail. Rory gasped at that, squirmed, and worried his bottom lip as Fynn rocked against him, “J…just be careful, I hadn’t been with another guy like that.”

“Then it will be my pleasure, Brother.”

Fynn was gentle, but there was only so tender a stallion as large as he could be. Even with his rear prepared by the fingers and cock slick with his own precum, Rory found himself tensing and grabbing at Fynn’s shoulders.

“Easy,” he whispered into the ear, nuzzling as he drew back. “Relax or it’ll be unpleasant.” Nodding, he buried his head into the male’s neck and tried not to tense as Fynn pressed in again.

It took a little working. Pressing forward and easing back, each thrust coming with a little more pressure and intent, but Rory could feel his rear spreading further. Steadily stretching about the heavy cock before that fat tip was shoved through with a breathless gasp.

Body shaking, he clung to the other stallion, nose buried into that neck as he whuffled. Each puff bringing him the male’s powerful scent. It was strange, being on the receiving end of such attention, but Rory found himself happily craving it. Looping his legs about Fynn’s waist as Talir often did with him. Awkwardly trying to lift his hips to let the stallion have a better angle.

Fynn shifted over him and, with a final thrust, buried everything he had within Rory. The stallions sharing a groan as balls clapped off rear. Holding still for a moment while they enjoyed embrace.

Bodies began to move n their own. Balls clapping off Rory’s rear as Fynn found a pace that was good for both of them. Rory’s breath coming in shorter pants as that tightness started to grow in his gut. Each thrust met with a clench from him. Spent cock firming between their bodies until he was throbbing once more.

A low mumbled came from one, answered by a grunt from the other. Forms shifting on the cushion and hooves clopping off the floor. Thrusts shortening now until only a couple inches were worked through the tight rear. Rory gasping at the sharp pleasure at it, nails digging into Fynn’s back as he pulled the hybrid closer to him.

Excited as he was, seemed that Fynn was equally as worked up. His thrusts faltering every few thrusts as pleasure spiked. Muzzle rubbing the top of Rory’s head as low, braying noises started to build.

To this day, Rory still didn’t know what drove him. One moment he was nuzzling into the neck, lipping at it lightly. The next he found his teeth were pressing into the throat. Lips closing about the neck with a suckle as he shook under the zebra. Every nerve humming with the pleasure that was threatening to spill over.

Fynn gasped at the neck bite. Hips jerking mid-thrust before slamming deep. Cock flexing within the rear as he spilled his load deep within Rory’s body. The stallion breaking the hold with a call of his own as he came harder than he’d ever done in his life before. Rear clenching about the invading member all while hot seed stained their bellies.

Wordlessly, the pair rocked against each other, riding out their nearly simultaneous climaxes. Fynn was the first to move. Drawing away until his cock popped free of Rory. A gasp coming from the percheron as warm seed ran down his rear. Just going limp on the cushion as the zebra collapsed beside him.

It felt like every hair on Rory’s body was vibrating, that’s how intense his orgasm had been. He lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling for a long moment and focusing solely on breathing. Beside him, it seemed like Fynn was doing the same thing. Each of the males panting and breathing in the heavy scent of stallion that permeated the room.

As he lay there, Rory looked over at Fynn and began to laugh.

Fynn rolled his head to look at the percheron, ears perking a bit, “What is so funny?” He asked after a bit had passed.

“I was just thinking,” Rory winced as he tried to move. Taking a slow breath before grabbing the towel to start cleaning up. “How I spent many years wishing for a sibling. I even remember asking Father if I could have one for Christmas.” His ear twitched, “Christmas is this…”

Fynn held up a hand, “I know what it is. Father would come buy with presents every year, ‘I know it is not the right time of year, but this is late Christmas presents for you.’ And give us these toys or things.” Ears perked a bit as he rolled his head to look at Rory as well, muzzles close enough to nearly touch. “I knew of you because Mother did, as did Ama and Mori. ‘Father, can you bring Rory to visit? That would be Christmas enough for me.’ I would ask.” He smiled a bit and lowered his head, “Said that he couldn’t bring Rory.”

That smile turned into a harder frown, “I would be so mad at him. Would leave and refuse to speak to him for days at a time. He started to bring me books. Wonderful books. History, math, literature,” his hand rolled to indicate it went on. “Every book he brought I devoured. Eventually my request started to be for school. Father took to teaching me while he was here. Buying these,” he frowned as he thought.

“Course books? Work books?”

Fynn nodded and snapped his finger, “Those. He couldn’t convince a tutor to come out here, so did the best that he could. I thought that maybe he was teaching me so I might go to school, but…”

Rory rolled his head, “When you asked about school the answer was that he couldn’t send you because…” A frown and head shook, “I’m sure he thought up some excuse. Schools wouldn’t take someone from the Sultanate, family would miss you, something.” He snorted, “Probably afraid someone would grow suspicious and figure you were his…” Rory almost said bastard, “you were his son.”

Another snap, “That one.”

He stared at the ceiling, “I don’t know if you would like it there.” Rory waved a hand, “This,” he ran the cloth over his belly slowly, “isn’t just frowned upon. They have stopped burning people for it, but that won’t stop people from dragging you into a back alley and…” he shook his head.

“I could adapt, could learn.” Fynn gave Rory’s chest a light slap, “Do not think that I am all about the rutting, Brother. It is fun, but that is only part of me. As it is part of you.”

Rory found himself looking over the zebra-percheron again. This time looking closer at the male’s eyes and thinking about his words. A quiet hum rolling up, “School is hard, believe me, but I think you might be the toughest thing to go through those doors in ages.”

Fynn looked at him, then smiled. “You’re better than I though you’d be.” Ears folded back as he looked a bit nervous, “I… I want to say sorry for insulting your friend. Uncalled for.”

Rory and Fynn spend the night talking. Sharing stories of their youth growing up in two vastly different societies. Despite how restrictive the Empire was, Rory did realize how lucky he had been as he grew up. Fynn voicing how great fun he was that he was allowed to grow as he wished, though he still longed to learn more. The two sleeping where they lay rather than deciding on who went where on the bed.

Come morning, they cleaned with a damp cloth and dressed before making their way to the Palace. Still talking as they roamed the halls.

“Rory Clayton, where have you been all evening?” Edward’s voice boomed down the hallway.

He winced at the voice, starting to shrink back. Taking a breath, he turned to face his father as his back straightened, “Good morning, Father.”

Edward’s steps were sharp and powerful as he stomped towards the pair, all his attention focused on Rory, “Don’t you ‘Good morning Father’ me.” He pointed sharply at Rory, “You didn’t come back, and when I asked Talir he said you two had parted ways.”

Rory’s ears perked, “Talir is here?”

The elder snorted, “Of course he isn’t, if he can’t keep track of you then he isn’t doing his job. So I sent him home.”

If Rory hadn’t had a good reason to have some steel in his spine he did now.

Back shot ramrod straight as his ears stood upright. He snorted and stepped towards his father, “Talir is not yours to dismiss. He was neither my watcher nor my guide.” Rory took a step forward, Edward looking somewhat surprised and taking a partial step back before stopping himself. “Nor am I a child who needs to be watched at all hours.” He pointed sharply at his father, finger jabbing into the older percheron’s chest. “I have spent the entire evening speaking with the brother you have chosen to keep from me.”

Edward looked honestly surprised that Rory was speaking to him like this. It took him a full second before, “You dare to speak to you father like that?”

Never in his life had Rory wished to punch someone more than he did at this moment.

A hard impact of hoof on tile was the only warning before a fist impacted with Edward’s jaw, sending the elder Clayton to the ground. Fynn casting a smirk at him and shaking his hand, “Kinda feel he deserved that after everything.”

Rory blinked as Fynn strutted off, shaking his hand still. Attention shifting back to his father. “I am going to find Talir, and when I get back we will be having a long talk.”

Others were coming out into the hall now. Batool and Tisa as well as Arasha, some guards starting to poke their heads into the corridor at the sound of yelling and something heavy hitting the ground. Their eyes dancing from Rory to Fynn and down to Edward. Moving to block the percheron as he walked off.

“Let him leave,” Arasha’s voice called out. The guards instantly freezing, looking to Rory. “Did I stutter? I said to let Rory Clayton pass. No move your tails before I chop them off and make a belt out of them.” she snarled. Guards immediately backing up to let Rory pass. As he rounded the corner, he heard a chuff, “Are you really surprised, Edward?”

Whatever response his father might have had was lost as Rory left the palace faster than he’d arrived. It had been many weeks since he’d been to where Talir’s mother lived, and as far as he knew, that’s where the cheetah might go.

It took a little time and Rory got lost, but he did find his way out to the slums until he recognized the house. Though the only reason he recognized it was because of the cheetah that was lounging outside. Dressed in a familiar loose shift.

Her eyes lifted as she approached. Ears perking as she looked over the large, foreigner draft horse that was approaching. “Hello,” she chirped in broken Imperial, “you come for fun?”

“No,” he purred in his best Sultanate, “I was looking for a friend of mine, Talir?”

She stopped, looking taken aback for a moment as she looked over Rory with a critical eye. “Like the boys? Shame.” Rolling her head, she looked towards a window, “TALIR! Have person for you.” Upon which time she seemingly lost all interest in Rory, eyes turning back to the street.

Seconds ticked into minutes, Rory shifting as he waited. And waited. Some time passed before the cheetah appeared in the doorway, looking at Rory briefly before casting his gaze elsewhere. He was back in the plain clothes that had had been the first time Rory had seen him, fur a bit damp and disheveled. “What do you want?” He asked, tail flicking behind him in a way that showed off just how agitated he was.

Rory wanted to lunge forward and grab the cheetah, to pull him into a tight embrace. His upbringing urging him to stay back and hover. He compromised by stepping in, “I want to start by apologizing.”

Talir’s ears lifted towards him, but the cheetah still didn’t look his way. “My father had no…” he started, feeling the ire rise. Ears falling back as he breathed out a low sigh, lowering his head. “I was wrong to let my problems bother me as much as they did. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about the last couple weeks.”

Fingers brushed his cheeks and drew him down, Talir’s head bumping against his lightly. His voice barely above a whisper, “It is both our faults, Rory.” A sigh puffing against his muzzle as Talir nuzzled. “Your hurt was hurting me too and just…” he shook his head slowly as he smiled a little. “Got to both of us.” Lips brushed in a soft kiss.

Now Rory couldn’t help himself, arms wrapping about Talir and drawing the cheetah against him, “I…” he breathed out a sigh, “I think I’ve got a handle on it though. There are things I’ve got planned to happen, but before then,” he stepped back and smiled at Talir, “I believe you wanted to show me something?”

Talir’s ears folded back, “But your father dismissed me,” he sniffed.

Wrapping his arms about the feline, Rory drew him close, “He had no place to do that.” Ears tickled his chin as the cheetah perked up, “You weren’t his to dismiss.” Rory nuzzled before stepping back and looking at the cheetah. “If you want to come back, that is.”

“Take the job and go back before your sweetness makes me sick,” Talir’s mother coughed.

He frowned towards the older cheetah before smiling up at Rory, “Let me go change.” A soft kiss was planted on a cheek before he whispered into an ear, “Meet me before Auntie’s stall.”

Talir gave his cheek a stroke and headed back inside. Rory’s ears perking as he watched the cheetah vanish back inside. He cast Talir’s mother a look. She grinned up at him, “Sure you don’t want another?” she purred towards him.

“Ah… no thank you, Ma’am.” He gave a slight bow and headed out.

Rory hadn’t even made it back to the gate before a body bounced off his back. Rory snorting in surprise as Talir curled an arm around his waist and fell into stride beside him. “Hey.” He flashed a smile up at the draft horse. Ears standing tall before laying back, “Rory… thank you. You didn’t have to come and offer me…”

“Myself?”

Talir’s ears fell back, “I… was going to say a better life.” For one of the first times since they’d known each other, the cheetah actually blushed, leaning his cheek against Rory’s chest. The smaller male practically vibrating with the force of his purrs. “That is most welcome too.”

Rory hesitated for a second before draping his arm around Talir as well. “I owe you a great many things, Talir. I couldn’t begin to thank you for all that you’ve done.”

Muzzle wrinkled with a low purr, “I think it is mutual doing, yes?” Ears angled back, “Speaking of, might be early for surprise but they do work early some days.” Ears perked again as Talir drew away from the embrace and headed forward. Rory looking over the cheetah again. Talir was happier again, low purrs still rattling from him as he lead on. Dressed once more in his harem clothes, finer cloth whispering across his cleaned body.

“So what are you wanting to surprise me with?” Rory called out as he stretched his longer legs, wanting to keep up with the feline.

Head tilted as Talir called over his shoulder, “If I told you, it wouldn’t be surprise, no?”

Rory couldn’t help but smile even as he heaved a sigh after the cheetah. As he followed, he became keenly aware that he hadn’t changed clothes since the day before. Granted, he hadn’t worn them for a good part of the evening, but still meant that his skin was crawling a bit.

Putting it out of his mind with a sigh, he followed Talir as the cheetah hurried ahead, ducking into one entry way after another. Each time chatting with someone before drawing away with a chuff. It took a few before he perked up and waved at Rory. “Good they are open. Come, come.”

His ears were perked curiously as he looked about for any sign on the door. He got the briefest look at one that read Theater before Talir grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

Inside was a rather plain amphitheater. Tiered rings covered cushions formed a half-ring about the stage. An open roof gave lighting for whatever play was going on, while wide, thin sheets of cloth provided enough shade to keep it somewhat cool. Rory had lounged in areas under similar curtains in his time here and knew how blissfully cool it could be even under the height of the day.

Still pulling at his arm, Talir guided Rory over to one of the seats along the side, “Here, good spot here,” he chirped before dropping to a cushion himself. “Lucky we are early, no one else took this place.”

Rory sank down beside him, “So we’re at a theater? Must admit, I hadn’t had the time to catch a show about here.” He settled down, sinking into the cushion with a heavy sigh and closing his eyes most of the way. It had been a trying couple days for sure. Mostly emotional, but last night with Fynn had been rather physically taxing as well.

Just thinking about it made his rear clench and ache in response. As it turns out, his half-sibling’s method of releasing tension involved lots of fucking. And Fynn was more than ready to switch where he was, but seemed to prefer being on top. Sometimes tender, others not. He’d read Rory faster than the stallion did, always keeping right in that zone of what felt good. Seems that not only was his sibling rather well educated, he had a lot of practical knowledge too.

A soft hand brushed over his chest, “Do not be falling asleep on me,” Talir purred low in his throat as he tucked against Rory’s side.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he kept his voice down but didn’t bother to open his eyes. “After you headed out yesterday, I spent all night talking with Fynn.” Tucking an arm behind Talir, he told the cheetah about his evening and the talks had with his sibling. While his voice did drop each time he came upon a time where they had intercourse, and he’d just wave it away, Rory didn’t have the first qualm about holding Talir even in a semi-public space like this.

Talir breathed out a quiet purr and nuzzled into Rory’s neck. Just lounging and listening as the stallion half-droned about his evening. Nuzzling into Rory’s chest as the theater filled.

It was approaching midday before a bellow roused Rory. Ears perking and eyes opening as he watched the actors came out. He watched as they began to march about, half-singing their lines in a form of the Sultanate tongue that he didn’t recognize.

“I don’t think anyone understands what they’re saying,” Talir purred at him, voice low. Cheetah curled against his side as fingers idly stroked over Rory’s chest. “Just old old stuff,” he nuzzled and settled there.

Rory took a look around the theater, seeing others lounging about in the shade. Some were chatting, some were watching the show intently, and others just seemed to be here for a place to get away from the heat of the midday sun. Humming quietly to himself, he shifted his focus back to the play. While it was a bit hard to follow, it became easier once he thought of it as an opera. Watching the movements and body language first and foremost.

Story seemed to be some tale about a war between two nations. Well, tribes more likely if his history about the Sultanate was right. Or could be a fable of some sort. Always hard to tell when you can’t understand what people are saying.

And then Rory remembered a warning he’d been told early on. Specifically a warning from Talir about a play about the gods and creation of the world. A play that involved the Goddess of Life and a very vivid scene involving the creation myth. A Goddess who was being played by an elephant female who was very fitting for the role. With a voice that was as sweet as could be, wide hips, ample breasts, and not a stitch of clothing on.

Large as she was, the actress moved with a grace that surprised Rory. Swaying and dancing with her partners, voice lifting with theirs, seamlessly harmonizing with one then the other as she seemingly flirted with one deity after the other.

Rory’s eyes going wide as she was laid down, still singing, and approached by the other deities, many of them males.

Then he nearly leapt out of his skin as Talir’s hand dropped under his clothes to rub his privates. Eyes going wide and darting to his companion. There was a playful smile on the cheetah’s face as he toyed with Rory. Fingers easing up and down that erecting length. “It’s okay, Rory,” he purred, “Just relax and enjoy the show…”

Lips bushed his cheek in a kiss before the cheetah slipped down. Deftly opening Rory’s robes so he could lean in and kiss that cock. Nose bumping the hard flesh before allowing his tongue to glide over the stallion’s glans. Just the quickest of kisses before Rory was struck by the familiar feeling of Talir’s maw stretching over his cock. Touch light as the feline played with his cock, bringing it fully to life as his head bobbed. Lips vibrating as his partner purred around his girth.

Rory wanted to stop Talir, but his hands were frozen in place, gripping the cushions as tight as he could. He glanced about the theater to see if anyone was watching what the cheetah was doing.

A couple patrons glanced their way, only to offer a smile then turn their attention back to either the play or their own partners. Though one shot him a bit of the evil eye. Possibly because his partner had winked towards Rory and blown a kiss.

Freeing a hand from the cushion, he reached down to rub Talir’s head lightly. A shiver racing up his spine as the cheetah’s purrs only increased in volume.

Talir didn’t stay down for long. Pulling back with a gasp and grinning up at the percheron. Sleek body rolled as he stood up. Rory thought, for the briefest of moments, that Talir was coming up to kiss. The cheetah once again catching him off guard as he turned. A roll of his hips making his pants drop to reveal a bare rump. The cheetah flashing a grin as he turned, lifting the cock up as he sat back with a purr.

Rory ground his teeth with a groan, watching Talir’s rear spread about his cock as the cheetah gasped. Body twitching over him as the leaner male sank down. Tightness spreading about that Imperial Ramrod as the sweet Sultanate settled down.

His breath came in shorter, nervous pants as he felt the cheetah’s body settle against him. Talir leaning back and draping arms around Rory’s neck with quiet moans. Hips rolling ever so slowly as he rode his partner gently. Each motion was only the barest of moves. Talir’s hips and core doing all the work as he rode the stallion with a throaty moan.

Eyes darted worriedly about the theater again. Rory’s muscles tense as Talir rode him in a fairly public space.

No one was paying attention to them.

Well, that was not entirely true. A few glanced towards them, at least one with wide eyes at the percheron’s size. Glancing from their joining up to Rory with wide-eyed awe.

It took the stallion a few moments to realize that they weren’t the only ones going at it. Some were far more vigorous, others were even lazier than they were. But all were quiet other than soft gasps and moans. Quiet hisses and growls easing from the crowd. The lustful sounds practically drown out by the actors on stage. Actors which had moved onto the next scene. More singing and acting, though most lacking in clothes and/or still messy from the earlier scene.

Breath came in shorter huffs as the stallion wrapped his arms about Talir. Thrusts coming nice and sow as he pressed into his partner. Head resting on the cheetah’s shoulder as his eyes narrowed. Low, quiet huffs easing from the stallion as he fell into it.

Strange as it might seen, he felt it finally solidify that he was in a strange place with different rules. Even after several weeks and witnessing clandestine, almost secretive trysts it had never really clicked in his mind just how different this place was. Ears rolling forward as he remembered back to his father’s story. The fable of what a sultan was doing when he took rule would dictate what type of sultan he would become. How much of this place had been like this before, and how much had been Rikh’s doing?

Fingers ran over Talir’s body, massaging the cheetah’s core as quiet groans started to lift from him. Eyes narrowing as the stallion’s pace increased slowly. Steady thumping of his body matching the pace of unseen musicians. Rory leaning his head into Talir’s neck as he breathed out moans.

Talir had to bite his bottom lip as the stallion started to thrust into him. Gripping his mane as he shivered. Biting his bottom lip to hold back his moans. Entire body shaking as hard cock pulsed. Both working together as eyes fell to the actors. Only giving them the barest of attention as bodies shifted together. Soft and sweet moans coming from each as they groaned.

Lithe frame shook against him as Talir threw his body back with a breathless gasp. Rear clenching in the familiar squeeze of the male’s climax. Nostrils flaring to pick up Talir’s scent as Rory’s hands stroked the belly and sides. Sac slapping off the backside as Rory’s own pleasure built.

Rory managed a few more thrusts before driving in with a throaty grunt. Even spent as he was from the evening before, there was plenty left over for the cheetah. Thick seed thumping against the male’s insides.

A quiet purr rolled from Talir as he leaned back with a smile. Body vibrating with his pleasured noises, savoring the feel of Rory filling him to the brim with that wonderfully thick seed. Rory’s fingers brushing over Talir’s body, ignoring the seed that his fingers trailed through with each pet.

The play went on for a bit longer before an attendant came around with a basin of water and a cloth. Waiting as they cleaned up before moving to the next. Though the jaguaress winked at Rory as Talir cleaned him up, low chuff rolling up her throat.

Despite the time in the show, the sun was still high as they made their way back to the palace itself. Guards lingering in shaded areas as they approached. Waving at the pair to go through before taking a second look and jumping to their feet. “Hold,” a voice boomed. A rather large lion with sandy pelt stepping forward, “The Sultan has asked that we bring you to him when you arrived, Mr. Clayton.”

He could feel Talir shift beside him, but he put on his best face, filing this under the same type situation as if he were called to the dean’s office. “Talir, would you mind going back to the apartment?” He flashed his best smile, “I’ll be there in a while.”

Talir looked from Rory to the guard and back, “Oh… okay.” He hesitated before hurrying off. Guards only watching him go before motioning for Rory to follow them.

Rory looked about as the guards led on. He’d had plenty of time to explore the palace over the last few weeks. Wasn’t too long before he started to piece together where they were going. Or at least where he thought they were taking him. Suspicions which were confirmed as they passed the harem doors and ventured down a hall.

Sure enough, he was led to a door that had to be the one from his father’s story. Guards knocking and opening as a voice called out. Rory was ushered into the now cleaned and bright room. Sultan Rikh was lounging on a pile of cushions, gripping a hookah pipe in his fingers. Smoke trailed from the naked lion’s lips as he looked over Rory. Edward was seated next to the Sultan, one of his eyes swollen most of the way shut. Fynn was in the room as well, though separated from the other two by a short distance. His ears perking as Rory was pushed in and the doors shut behind.

“Sultan,” he nodded towards the lion, “Father.” He nodded at the elder, “Brother. Nice to see the three of you in here, because I had a couple things I would like to talk about/”

Edward grumbled, “Damn right we have a few…”

He trailed off as Rikh held his hand up. The snowy lion taking a slow draw off the pipe before allowing another trail of smoke to roll from his maw with his words, “Do you now? Please, speak your mind, Young Clayton.”

Rory offered a bow towards the Sultan then faced his father. “I have had time to think about everything. While I am not fond of your methods, I can understand them.” Edward began to say something, “However,” he silenced his father, “now that I am fully aware of the situation and certain I know my role within it, I have a few concerns. Namely how unfair the whole ordeal is.” Rory nodded towards Fynn, “To my brother.”

That made Edward’s jaws drop teeth clicking as he shut it just as quick, “Unfair in what way?”

Brows arched, “Fynn is intelligent, I dare say that he is more intelligent than some I have been schooled with. I am starting university this winter, and I would ask that you sponsor Fynn as well. I have been given every opportunity to better myself, it’s only fair that he is given the same.”

His ear twitched at the surprised snort from Fynn. Edward blinking, then frowning, “Rory, you know very well why I cannot sponsor Fynn.”

“Oh,” Rory stopped, looked at Fynn, then back to Edward, “Because he is your son?” He made a point to walk over to Fynn and leaned in, looking over the striped body. “Funny, because I see a large zebra who happens to have a bit of dappled gray. Granted, he is large, but with the right clothing…” Rory sat back to think about it, rubbing his chin, “Besides, wouldn’t it ingratiate you within certain circles if you are seen as benevolent?”

Fynn hummed and nodded, “You know better than I about your social circles, Brother.” Standing up, the naked male nodded and rubbed his chin, mirroring Rory’s motions. “Though I recall hearing of some that wish to seek the betterment of the savages.” He snorted, “I mean, the ‘lesser educated’ people of the Sultanate.”

More smoke puffed out as the Sultan laughed, “Edward Clayton, you father some clever children.”

His father’s ears fell back, “I would love to sponsor Fynn, I really would, but…” all three of the other males looked at him, waiting for an answer. Edward stopped, looking from the lion to the two stallions. Looking over them side by side. He started and stopped a half-dozen sentences before heaving a sigh. “You’re right,” a look towards Rikh, “And I bet if I didn’t sponsor him you would?”

“In a heartbeat, Friend. Rory is very much right that it has been unfair to both. Least as far as I can tell from Rory, and as for Fynn?” He snorted, “You forget who has my ear and how many things I hear.” A slow puff rolled from his lips, “Why do you think your Ama is in my guard? Or why Mori is with Naji learning his skills?” Rikh smirked as he took a slow draw off the pipe, “So what says you? Shall the venerable Edward Clayton sponsor a promising young native, or shall Sultan Rikh call in a little of his clout?”

Edward rubbed his head with a groan, “You three are going to give me even more gray hairs than I already have.” He peered out from behind his fingers at Fynn and Rory, “Of course I’ll sponsor you. But…”

“I shall keep my grades up, Father.”

Edward looked towards Rory, “And I shall have him schooled in social norms and will ensure that he keeps it in his pants. Outside of private areas, of course.”

Rikh’s hands clapped, “Then it seems we are settled, yes?”

“No Rikh, we still have a lot to…”

Another clap and the door opened, “Arasha! Daughter, we require some celebration, yes? Yes we do, what do you suggest?”

The lioness breathed out a purr and leaned against the door frame, “Well Taruh has just come into season if you want to see about having another to your brood, Father. And there is Alhena, Rory you will just love her. She is this lovely Arabian mare.” I am certain I can find a few others as well, plus refreshments.”

“Wonderful!” Rikh bellowed, waving at his daughter with a grin.

Edward sighed and rubbed his head, “Rikh, I swear you are going to kill me one of these days.” His ear twitching as fingers massaged his finger.

The lion grabbed Edward by his mane and pulled the stallion in, forcing him into a kiss. His mighty hand coming down on Edward’s backside with a loud clap. The kiss was heated and lasted a long moment before the lion pulled back with a grin, “You only complain because you always lose these celebrations, Friend.”

Edward snorted, “Fail?” and wound his fingers through Rikh’s mane. Pulling the lion into a deep kiss, shoving his tongue right into that waiting maw. Rikh’s tail twitched as the lion grunted, then groaned as he pressed into it. Edward breaking the kiss, “We always seem to finish about the same time.” He fell back with a sigh, “Think we can show these two young bucks a thing or three?”

Rory and Fynn shared a mildly disturbed look, wondering just what they had gotten themselves into. Especially as the door opened and a half-dozen men and women filtered in, all very much naked and all smiling. An Arabian mare stopping, looking at Rory, before giving him a knowing wink.

Oh what was he getting into?

——————————

A carriage pulled up to the university, several students gathered outside glancing towards as the door opened. Rory stepping out and looking at the grand building. Now that he was back home, he was once again dressed in the familiar wool of one of his favorite suits. The percheron glanced upwards towards the building before seating his hat.

“Rory,” called one of the students, waving at him as he approached with a wide grin.

He gave his best grin in return, “Ambrose, so good to see you.” Stepping in, he clasp hands with the other student, “Surprised to see you out here. Figured you would’ve been inside.” Breath fogged briefly with each word.

The other horse snorted, “And miss seeing one of my favorite classmates? How was the Sultanate, heard that you spent the entire summer there. Tell me, what is it like among them. I hear so many rumors.”

Rory let out a slight sigh, “Well yes, and I have heard all the rumors, believe me. Not all of them are true, you’ll have to believe me on that. The people of the Sultanate are far more civilized than the rumors would have you believe.”

Ambrose laughed, “I will believe that when I… see… it..” His attention shifting to look past Rory.

Moving smoothly, he planted a hand on his friend’s shoulder and nodded towards the carriage, “Ambrose, my friend, I would like for you to meet Fynn.” He waved a hand towards his half-brother as the zebra stepped out, carriage bobbing as the springs were relieved of his weight. The large hybrid looking about curiously and drawing his heavy coat tighter about his frame. “A member of one of the Sultanate tribes that my father is sponsoring.”

“Must be as a favor to the Sultan.” Now there was a voice that made Rory wince. “No other reason they would let one of his kind in.” Zackary Spain stood with back ramrod straight as he approached, each step sharp and sure as he did his best to look down his muzzle at the others.

Rory put on his best half-smile and turned, “Good to see you again, Zackary.” He looked past the badger and hummed, “Must say that I am pleasantly surprised to see you as well.” He angled his head towards Ambrose, “I have been absent from the Empire for a few months, but I do recall the Spains making a sizable donation to the school didn’t they?”

Zackary’s back straightened even further and head tilted to look down his muzzle at Rory that much harder, “Father’s donation had nothing to do with my acceptance to University. Unlike some, I was able to get here without a letter of recommendation.”

Fynn’s voice lifted in a low rumble, “Brother Rory, I had thought you said that they were mannered here in the Empire.” His voice was smooth and soft, only the barest hint of an accent flavoring his Imperial. He bowed his head slightly, “I am Fynn Batool, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Voice dropped into a near whispered Sultanate, “Tell me is it not this cold inside.”

Rory’s ear twitched as he tried to hide his smirk, “It is, but you’ll have to get use to it.” Switching back, “Fynn, this is Ambrose Holloway and Zackary Spain.”

The uptight Zackary was practically bristling, “Pardon me, but did he call you Brother?”

A heavy sigh heaved from Rory, “It is a term of endearment. Closest thing we have in Imperial to match their word for a very close friend. Spending months over there, plus weeks on the travel back has gifted us with many chances to share knowledge.”

Zackary hummed, looking over Fynn, “Well, greetings and salutations and all that.” He waved a hand as he strode off, steps sharp as he grumbled something under his breath.

Eyes rolled as Ambrose stepped in, “Charming as always.” He looked over Fynn and whistled softly, “Didn’t think they came that big over in the Sultanate. Think he’s larger than you are, Rory.” Ambrose put on his best smile, “Pleasure to meet you, Fynn. I hope you enjoy your stay here.” Eyes darted over the zebra again before looking over Rory, “Rory.. What is that on your finger?”

Rory lifted his hand and looked at the band, “Ah… it is a very long story best held inside. Shall we?”

Ambrose nodded, hurrying ahead to get the door. Fynn smirking at his back and rumbling in the Sultanate tongue, “He has a cute rump, think he would mind helping me warm up there, Brother?”

“Please keep it in your pants, Fynn, at least outside the house.” Rory strode shoulder-to-shoulder with his half-brother, “Going to be hard enough explaining why I got married. Much less why I suddenly have you coming to school with me, or why Talir is my valet.”

Fynn snorted, “Could tell them you are starting your own herd to corrupt their ways.”

“Helpful as always.”

“What else do you expect?”