The Lion and the Ram

Story by theotoko on SoFurry

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#1 of Lion and the Ram

Sophie, a strong willed lioness, is sold into slavery as her society collapses and the power shifts from predators to prey. She has to watch as her friends and companions are subjected to complete sexual servitude, and witness her own defiance begin to dissolve under the severe training of her ruthless master. Follow Sophie as her own heat is used against her to totally break her spirit.


The overthrowing of the society went as they always do. It was prefaced with protests, which were followed by riots, and finally came the calculated movement of the lower class. The upper echelons of society had seen it coming, but did not expect it to come so far. They, as had many before them, wildly underestimated their opponents. The predator class had assumed their oppressed prey to be weak and fearful, much too fearful to complete the final step of organized revolt. They had assumed the fear to be inherent to their kind. They were not wrong in some ways, but they had underestimated the strength that a herd mentality could bring to a group coming to power, the cohesion that would rise from the unified fear.

Sophie had had an idea of what was going on, but like others, she hadn't put much thought into it. The young lioness was approaching her prime, and her concerns were less political than personal. She was nineteen, recently graduated high school, and was mapping out her college and the career to follow. It was that summer that her life changed forever.

Sophie had been out of town, staying at a friend's rural cabin for the week. Amaya Hunter was her best friend, an arctic wolf that she had known since childhood. They were a beautiful pair, never failing to draw the eye when out together. Amaya had a plush white coat, perfectly groomed and coiffed, the fur gently brushed back from her striking face. Her eyes were a rare blue, shining and bright like the sky. Her family owned half of the land in Alaska; Sophie's parents had masterminded many of her relationships. Sophie herself was also an heiress. She was the only daughter of the long lived Strong Pride, a family line tracing back centuries in Africa, and one of the first in North America.

Where Amaya was lusciously soft, Sophie was sleek and strong. Her coat was burning gold, with eyes to match. A softer cream streaked down her neck and belly, and the tips of her fingers and toes. Her body was taut and muscular from years of sports, as well as superior top predator genetics.

Sophie and Amaya had been spending the weekend in rural Carolina, enjoying tanning at the secluded ponds and hiking scenic mountains. She had missed some calls from her parents, but no messages. She didn't worry too much. It was when the two went to town to restock supplies that her life changed forever.

She had been mid-laugh, pink tongue just visible as she giggled, when a rough bag was violently pulled over her head, and she was yanked off of her feet.

Sophie's first instinct was to scream, which she did. Next, she struggled, which did her no good. Whoever was holding her had a significant weight advantage. Sophie fought to calm herself; she came from a large and wealthy family, and had been schooled in kidnapping scenarios since she was young. She was still confused; this cabin was very secret, and Amaya's family owned the town. No news should have left of her whereabouts. But...she knew that her father would pay her way out. He could meet any price demanded, he had many assets and would do anything to protect his only daughter.

She was thrown into the back of a truck, possibly a pickup? She could feel the open air. Any thoughts of jumping out went out the window as she felt them bind her arms and legs tightly, then wind a chain around her waist, locking it into the bed. Sophie whimpered, especially when she felt the warm touch of another creature beside her. Somebody else was in the back? From the responding whimper, it was another captive.

The truck started up, and Sophie was struck with further confusion. There was no top to the truck, she was in plain view! Sophie cried out, her voice muffled in the sack, but was met with no response. Couldn't they see her?!

She continued to scream, but as the truck started moving, it became clear that help wasn't coming, for whatever reason. She continued to scream all the way until her voice ran out and she shivered from the cold wind whipping over her unprotected body. She fell silent and leaned into the person on her right.

Amaya! Her nose picked up the she-wolf's scent, and she cuddled into her frightened friend. Their tails intertwined, both trembling with fear and trepidation. They hunched down and tried to endure the freezing ride.

It must have been hours. Sophie fell asleep at some point, despite her fear. She was exhausted from the cold, but the shared heat from her friend had been enough to lull her into slumber. The truck shuddered and slowed. Sophie's ears pricked up, straining to catch any hint of where they were, but all was silent. They flattened in disappointment as the back of the truck thunked open.

"Goddamn, it's been a minute since I got my prick wet," huffed a rough, deep voice. Sophie's lips curled as she realized that a ransom wasn't the worst of her problems. "Think I can get away with stuffing that cute kitty cat?" Sophie's hair raised on end as she felt a hand touch her chin. "Let me see that pretty face, kitten!" A growl rose in her throat as she recognized the smell; a stag! A fucking deer was touching her?! He dared to even dream of breeding her?? It bubbled up through her lungs, emerging in a throaty snarl.

"Not that one," replied a second voice, equally rough. "She's got a big fat price tag if we bring her in as-is, her and the wolf. If we fuck them, we cut our own paychecks in half. Take the mutt, she's just a stray. Nobody important, and probably has some well-used holes on her. She's not bringing in much anyhow."

A movement and a shrill yelp followed this, with the sound of scraping claws and thrashing limbs. One jerked and struck Sophie's leg; she pulled it back defensively.

Another movement, and strong arms encircled her again. She shivered, slightly reassured that they wouldn't be holding her down to rape her. She could hear the other girl crying and begging horribly, the sound of her clothes ripping off raising a chill in all of them. To be raped by a stag...how shameful.

A click, and the chain popped loose. Sophie couldn't think about running though, not with the way that her ankles were tied. She could only lie limp as the male lifted her. She caught a whiff as he heaved her over his shoulder; a horse, and a big one. Definitely a stallion. She sighed in disgust, hoping that her father would come for her soon. All of this handling by prey was nauseating. He carried her into a building, some sort of abandoned barn by the smell of it. He dumped her gently onto a stack of hay, the sound of a wooden door sliding shut reverberating throughout the building.

The bag on her head was ripped off, and she flinched back from the large bay horse. Ears splayed, she watched with distrustful eyes as he untied her legs. Her eyes darted to the door, but he laughed heavily.

"I don't think so, honey. Even if you can get to the door, I'm pretty confident that I can out-distance you. You big cats aren't known for your stamina." She growled, knowing that he was right. He moved towards her, grabbing her tightly bound arms, and wove soft leather straps around her wrists, cutting the hewn ropes that had held her before. They were more comfortable, but equally restraining. Her arms began to ache.

When he pulled a leather hood towards her face, she jerked back, snarling. His hand shot out and he grabbed her thick scruff, causing her to go limp. Hissing and spitting with fury, Sophie could do nothing to prevent the hood from being pulled over her and fastened at the back, complete with a small lock. She couldn't see anything but black.

"You're lucky that your pretty mouth is off limits, or else I'd throw a ring gag in there to keep you quiet. But I don't want to tempt any of my guys into breeding your throat, so you get to keep it closed for now. I wouldn't count on that for long," he chuckled.

"Please, my father will pay you," she whispered suddenly, realizing that this was her only chance. "Whoever you're working for, he can double it if you get me home tonight!"

The man laughed, and the sharp click of a knife cut the air. Sophie felt her breath fall away as she stepped back in new terror.

"Honey, your father isn't in the best position to be throwing money around," chortled the horse. Sophie stiffened, shocked. What happened to her father? What had happened to their money? Had he lost a bet? Her mind rattled with unpleasant thoughts, but all of that was interrupted when the stallion grabbed her shirt and cut straight through it, ripping it from her body.

Sophie squealed, but to little effect. He tore her bra away easily, revealing pert young breasts. Sophie cried out in fury and shame as he whistled, tears wetting the fur on her face.

"Nice rack, even if it's a little small for my taste. Those cute puppies won't be doing you any favors." Sophie blushed furiously; her breasts weren't small! They were a plump,gorgeous C, perfect and proportional to her build. He scruffed her again, lifting her with one arm and unbuttoning her jeans with the other. Sophie wanted to struggle, but there was little that she could do. Tears streamed as he eased her out of her pants, then her little pink panties. "Even better ass, you're going to murder on that catwalk. I wish I could be there for your first sale."

Sophie had a thousand questions, but once she was totally stripped, he dropped her back on the hay and the door slid open and closed again, marking his departure. Sophie was alone.

Sophie curled into a ball, struggling to stifle her fear and humiliation. Her breath hissed quickly in and out, skin crawling. Tears flowed freely, wetting her face until the fear dissipated and determination returned.

She lay quietly, listening to the struggles and cries of the other females as they were secured into separate stalls. Sometimes the men raped them, and she had to listen to their muffled squeals echo in the building. It was hard to tell what species they were from this distance, but she knew that there was one other dog, as well as a mink.

The barn finally became quiet. She heard the truck start up again, and when the sound of the old motor faded into the distance she rose to her feet and began to inspect her pen.

Since she didn't have the use of her hands, she began to nudge around with her sensitive nose. The walls were solid wood; she lay down and gave them a few kicks, but they were heavy and reinforced. She continued, pressing her face into the open slats dividing the stalls. Beside her was the mink, her scent tainted with deep fear. Sophie also caught the musky smell of horse semen, and her lips curled back. She left that side quickly, unable to endure the pity. Minks were naturally delicately built creatures; she couldn't imagine that a horse cock was fun to take.

She got to the door, and gave it a hard nudge. She didn't expect it to give, and she was right. It was very tightly secured. She threw her body against it, but it was no use; it didn't budge.

Sophie tried a few more times, but stopped when her shoulder began to ache sharply. The door didn't give even slightly. Sophie lay back and began kicking it, but it still didn't move. She spent the night moving to different walls, testing the wood until exhaustion finally took her as the sun began to rise.

Dreamless sleep blessed the young lioness. It felt like only a few seconds before the sharp smell of meat struck her nose. Sophie wasn't deceived for a second; her back ached from the hard floor, and her throat ached from screaming. She knew where she was immediately, and a snarl rose up at the smell of stag.

"Shut it, kitten," yawned the deer. "This is all you're getting today, and you'd better eat it. You're all going to the holding house later this week. If you don't eat it all, I'm going to have to force feed the rest to you. They don't take starving girls. Too weak."

Sophie didn't move until she heard him walk to the next stall, echoing the sentiment. She slipped quietly towards the smell, finding a bucket on the ground. With a small growl, she sniffed it. It smelled like feral chicken and pork, mixed with the mineral smell of vitamins. She didn't detect anything nefarious, although it wasn't the most appetizing scent.

Still, she had too much pride to lap her breakfast from a bucket. When he returned and found the bucket full, she met his loud sigh with a snarl.

"Fucking lions. You've all got your heads stuffed up your asses. Too good for a bucket? Sorryma'am. I hope you're not too good for a hose!" He opened the pen, but Sophie was ready for him. She slammed into him immediately, her heavy body checking him as she continued and dashed through the open gate. The sound of cursing faded behind her as she used her superior sprint to put some distance in between her and the-

A slam threw her off of her feet, and before she knew it the world was tumbling around her. Sophie gasped for breath, unable to orient herself without her sight. She had been close to a forest; if she could reach the woods, she could hide herself until the left! But a powerful grip shook her free of that dream.

"I told you cat," rumbled a familiar voice. "I can outdistance your kind in a second." Sophie felt despair as she was lifted off of her feet. "I'd love to warm that cute ass of yours, but your pricetag gets cut if I put hands on you more than necessary. They want you as good as free women. Now come on. I heard that somebody needs to learn a lesson in appreciating food."

Sophie screamed, her clawed feet lashing out. She heard the horse grunt as she struck his thigh, but his grip on her didn't slack. It transferred to her neck, and she was carried humiliatingly like a cub.

"Fucking bitch! If you didn't have a bounty on your head, I'd be making you take a fat horse cock balls fucking deep in your ass right now!" He dragged her back, yowling the entire way.

The rest of the week was a flash of nightmares for Sophie. It was the same thing, over and over. Listening to girls get raped, sometimes in the ass, sometimes muffled screams from a mouth stuffed with cock. The horse sitting on her chest as the stag forced a hose down her throat, pumping meat slurry into her until she was crying. Cold nights, listening to Amaya sob in the stall next to her. There were no baths, and outside of forced feedings, the males didn't interact with her. Mercifully, Amaya was spared the same fate as the other common girls.

Finally, after a seemingly endless stream of totally blind days, she was once again tucked into the back of the truck. Sophie immediately found Amaya, who cuddled up to her right away. They sniffed at each other, each relieved to find the other free of wounds.

"Amaya," whispered Sophie below her breath. "Why is it taking so long for our ransom to come through?" She asked a question that Amaya couldn't possibly know an answer to. Her friend stifled a sob, hunching down as the truck started up.

They shivered, the wind even colder than that first day in the truck. It was late November, and the cold cut straight to the bone. Luckily for them, the drive was a short one.

This time, the sounds and smells of the city struck Sophie. She struggled with intense bewilderment again. Why was nobody helping them?? She could hear the sounds of other cars, footsteps and muffled conversations that should have prefaced their rescue. But nobody paid the girls any attention at all, even when Sophie cried out for help.

In fact, once the horse popped out, he stuffed a gag into her mouth, tying it quickly behind her head before grabbing the back of her hood and leading her inside.

She heard and smelled animals as she passed them; a hyena, a mouse, a rat, several horses, a boar...none of them spoke to her. The boar stopped the horse leading her and asked him about some raffle, but didn't even mention the tightly bound lioness that he was escorting.

"Hey Damian," a bull greeted the horse. His tone was gruff, and by his smell he was an older male. "Nice catch. Does she have a warrant or is she a stray?" A warrant? She couldn't be under arrest! She hadn't done anything!

"Hey Sirius. Yeah, she's got a big fat warrant. Sophie Strong, daughter of Goliath Goldencoat and Lilliana Strong. I tracked this bitch and her friend down the second that I saw that price tag. Here, go with the nice doctor honey. Have fun at the catwalk!"

Somebody else grabbed her leash; a female rabbit, by her smell. Sophie wanted to resist, but as she pulled backwards a strong hand pushed her forward.

"I don't think so," growled another bull from behind her. Some sort of security, she assumed, for the stronger girls. With a muffled hiss, she followed the doctor.

The door shut behind her, and the heavy clank of a lock made her heart sink. So much for escape.

"Sit," ordered the rabbit. Sophie edged her foot back, detecting a chair behind her. She sat. With a click and a pull, the hood was pulled from her face, along with the gag wrapped around it. Her arms remained bound. The bull secured the straps to the back of the chair.

Sophie glared with open hostility at the small bunny, a fellow female selling her out. She would have mauled her if not for the burly bull standing watchfully at the door. The doctor, a small white bunny with splashes of brown, went through a quick and thorough inspection, checking her eyes, ears, and throat, giving her a once-over for blood or bruises and pleased at finding none.

"Good," she sighed, scribbling into her clipboard. "I hate when they bring you in all roughed up. Makes my job harder. Age?"

She looked expectantly over her glasses at the stunned lioness. Sophie felt rage and indignation rising up; she wasn't even entitled to an explanation?? The rabbit's expression turned stern.

"I can make this very hard for you. It's within your best interests to answer me honestly and respectfully. If you want any answers, you'll have to give me full cooperation." Sophie's golden eyes narrowed, but she knew better than to act out. This might be her last chance to find out what they wanted.

"...nineteen," growled the lioness, her hackles raised. "Where am I?"

"You're in Healing Hooves Hospital. Sexual experience?" Sophie jerked back in surprise from both replies, ears flattened.

"Do you mean Healing Hearts?" she stammered, choosing to ignore the question. This did not go unnoticed by the rabbit, who stared her down over her glasses. Dr. Pawmire, her nametag said. Sophie stared at the nametag. Doctor? Prey weren't doctors. They were assistants, at best, not even nurses. "Where is the real doctor?"

With a sneer, the rabbit pushed a button on her own chair. Sophie screamed as white-hot pain flooded her body, unbearable agony that seared her nerve endings over and over. Her throat burned from the strength of the scream. It felt like minutes, but it was actually only seconds when the rabbit released the button. Sophie's head hung as she sobbed and panted.

"I am a real doctor," snapped Dr. Pawmire, cold fury in her eyes. "I went to eight years of medical school, fought for the scholarships and the loans, and graduated at the top of the academy. I didn't go through all of that to be a hospital's fuck puppet." She enunciated the last two words with a great kick at the side table, upending it entirely. Her rage simmered into a controlled anger, and the clinical voice returned. "No more questions. What is your sexual history? All of it. If you leave anything out, I have no qualms punishing you for disobedience. As long as I don't leave a mark, the head of hospital doesn't care."

Sophie flinched, ears lowering. She glowered at the rabbit but didn't talk back. "I...I had a boyfriend. I lost my virginity to him two years ago." The rabbit jotted it down, but looked back up expectantly.

"More detail. Oral, anal, and vaginal history. On a scale of one to ten, how experienced would you describe yourself sexually?" Sophie blushed hard, but didn't break Dr. Pawmire's eye contact.

"We did it three times, vaginally," she growled in a low voice. "One time oral. Nothing else, with anybody else." Shame darkened her cheeks, easily visible under the lighter fur inside her ears.

"Great. No further questions, it's time to start the nerve testing," said Dr. Pawmire. She lifted a syringe filled with a clear liquid. Alarm bells rang in Sophie's head, but before she could even open her mouth to scream, the syringe was darted into the side of her neck, and she blacked out.


Sophie felt her head swim as she slowly came to. She was in a warm bath, her limp body being washed thoroughly. She groaned, wondering if she was finally home. Her nose twitched; a zebra was bathing her, female by her scent. Was it a slave? They didn't have any zebra maids.

She was being quite rough with the scrub-brush. Sophie opened her mouth to complain, but it merely fell open. She felt so weak, she couldn't control her muscles at all. She had no choice but to allow the mare to scrub her down.

Her strength returned just enough to be guided from the tub, but she didn't recognize where she was. It was a very dark room, and somewhere in the distance were voices yelling loudly. She couldn't make out a word of it though. Perhaps her father had finally found her. The mole blow dried her gently, the warm air fluffing out her sleek fur. She applied a scented oil to her coat, brushing it until she shone sleek and beautiful. Sophie sighed and smiled under the pampering. She had been through...a rough...

Her eyes snapped open, breath drawing in quickly. Where was she? Had she been found? She turned to the zebra, who didn't meet her eyes. Where was her father?

She was pushed to her feet, the primping complete. Sophie tried to protest, but she had her ass sharply slapped as she was shoved towards a set of towering curtains. She resisted hard, but the zebra snapped a thick leather collar around her neck and handed her off to a bulky black stallion.

Cowed, she resisted the leash but she didn't fight. He yanked her through the curtains.

Sophie gasped, her ears flat against her head. Lights blew up the catwalk, shielding the crowd from her gaze, but illuminating every curve of the naked lioness's body. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but the stallion yanked her forward with him. He walked her down the catwalk, holding the leash taut enough to put pressure on her throat.

At the end of the endless platform, he grabbed both hands and fastened them to a long cable hanging above her. Her eyes filled with tears, her own pounding heartbeat the only sound that she could hear. A buzzing voice battled with it until finally it penetrated her consciousness.

"Sophie Strong, only daughter of Goliath Goldencoat and Lilliana Strong. Heiress to the Strong Estate. Five foot nine, nineteen years old, one hundred and forty pounds of muscle and curves. Lightly used. Sexuality rating is very high, folks; her clitoral sensitivity is a solid nine out of ten, nipples are an eight. Orgasmic sensitivity is nine. High athleticism, very rebellious, and a medium tolerance to pain; she's a great starter for a Master looking to train a real wildcat into a purring pussy. The bidding starts at fifteen thousand dollars."

Sophie couldn't see the cards as they were raised, but the auctioneer called out the bids as they shot up. Tears streamed down her face, tears of shame, confusion, fear, and rage. She struggled against the cord, but her jerking thighs and rippling breasts seemed to only drive her price up.

"Sixty thousand! Do I see seven-yes! Seventy thousand!" shouted the auctioneer, each shout pulling a furious snarl from her. Her snarl was deep throated, intimidating, and incredibly enticing to the masters looking for a slave to break.

"You fucks! You sick, perverted fucks!" she shrieked, realizing how hopelessly she was trapped. Her rage echoed over even the voice of the auctioneer. "Go to fucking hell!"

"One hundred and twenty thousand!!"

A sharp stab at her ass, and Sophie was screaming like a feral cat, pain ringing in her ears as she was tased. The last thing that she heard before she passed out was the slam of the auctioneer's gavel. She didn't even know the price at which her freedom had been sold.