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The Outsider walked away toward his throne, and I remained, sullied, in the center of the room. Minutes later, a servant began to invite Southern lords, one by one, to swear homage to their new king. They came in from the entrance hall, richly dressed, sometimes accompanied. They moved awkwardly around me, and addressed the Black King, obviously destabilized by the sight of my vicious degradation. The Outsider systematically put them at ease, welcoming them warmly, stating that he understood these were uncomfortable circumstances for them, and assuring them that they didn't have to make an impression -- this was strictly protocol -- and he would take the time to get to know them, little by little. He was all charm. I was the implicit threat, an example of how obscenely cruel he could be, so he could allow himself to be affable. He proved extremely efficient at this. He promised to grant each of the lords at least two thirds of the lands they previously ruled, and, when asked, didn't rule out the possibility that they might keep all of their domains. They left at peace. There was no significant reaction or outrage at my display as a beaten, abused thing, splattered with thick white seed. If there was, they hid it well.

Possibly the worst part was that small voice in the back of my head, that told me they might like it. Even the ones most morally repelled, most genuinely compassionate to me might find that, deep down, in the realm of their most intimate fantasies, that image of me was exciting. Would they feel guilty for this? Wouldn't it become easier, then, for them to accept the proposed idea that I was an object? People were protected by the law. They had rights, and if their dignity was violated unfairly, there was a social price to pay. By accepting the order offered by this new king, they implicitly recognized that I was an item, an anal fuck-toy. They might find my fate tasteless, but they wouldn't get up in arms about it. They had to watch out for themselves; as defeated lords, they stood to lose everything. Humiliated, broken, I pondered. How long would it be before I too bowed to that order? I already felt so wretched, so worthless. What if I couldn't deal, and truly became a servile, mindless, fearful pet that the Outsider would train however he wished?

A dozen aristocrats had been sworn in when a voice, asking for permission to approach, dragged my mind out of the sinister place it had wandered in. I turned my muzzled snout to my left, and watched the tall, slender mass of long, white fur pass me by. Baron Jan Maran had grown his late father's estates into -- arguably -- the wealthiest, most densely populated, most productive lands in the Southern Kingdom. He wasn't content to merely benefit from his lands; his mindset was that of a merchant or an artisan. He invested, and innovated instead of concentrating on military matters, which disinterested him. Some other lords scorned him for these characteristics, and also out of jealousy about his success, but most adored him. He wore red floating silk, trimmed in gold, because he was rich, extravagant, and unafraid to flaunt it. More importantly, I didn't merely know him. The wolf was also one of my friends. He saw my offered stance, and my disgrace, but when he spoke, he was diplomatic. Nothing showed of what he might have been thinking.

-- Great king, I come to you with respect, to offer you my allegiance for your mercy. If you accept it, my honor, my abilities, as well as my undying honesty will be yours.

The words and the form were from the classical Southern oath, not so much in use anymore since nobles were encouraged to craft longer, custom vows for their liege. There was a slight change in it, though. The usual words were "honor, abilities, and undying loyalty" not honesty, but the Black King was from the Northwest, and was unlikely to notice the difference.

The Outsider turned his palms up, and smiled.

-- Baron Maran, welcome. I was quite excited to meet you. I have heard that you are a valuable subject to have. I hope you do not mind my saying.

-- Of course not, my king, Jan responded with calculated detachment. You're very welcome to say whatever you please.

Jan spoke with perfect self-control. He could give the Black King a run in terms of tactical impassivity. Far from being upset at this, the king sat further into his throne, content. He wasted no time with additional pleasantries. The treasurer handed him a small rolled parchment. He slowly pulled it open, and studied it while he addressed the main issue.

-- I understand that you were in charge of all the lands between the Salt River and the Low Hills in the name of your previous king. Is this correct?

-- Yes, my king.

-- This is a sizable portion of the kingdom.

Jan stood strong. A lesser noble might have scrambled in a doomed attempt to deny the king's assertion without giving offense, but not Jan. It _was_a sizable strip of land, and he knew it well. The king's attempt to fluster his guest backfired into a clumsy pause. The reptile had to say something; he couldn't expect the baron to acquiesce every time he made an obvious statement. Dropping his parchment on an armrest, he ran a finger up along the side of his forehead, and poked the base of his horns.

"What, will you not protest?"

-- No. I agree. The Maran Barony is vast, and persistently growing stronger...

A brief break in the rhythm, for effect.

"Under my care," Jan added.

The duel had been short, and Jan had wiped the floor with the king. The latter was taken aback, notably impressed. He squinted. He wanted Jan on his side, and Jan knew it.

-- I have half a mind to increase it... he mumbled darkly, but audibly for any canine.

The Outsider kept going:

"Would you be comfortable in continuing your charge in my name?"

-- Yes, my king, I would.

Relief. I detected relief. He didn't care about me either. He was just happy that he didn't lose any land. I was a failed hero, granted, but come on. I thought this guy was my friend. I'd never felt so hollow before.

-- In this case, said the Black King, I accept your offer of allegiance. I restore all of your rights over your land save for the right to raise soldiers. Should the need for any military force other than the protection offered by the city guards arise, you would be directed to-

Baron Jan interrupted the king with a brusque hand gesture. I was just as shocked by the bold move as the king.

-- Before we discuss this any further, I feel that, under my promise of honesty, I must say something right now.

-- Oh?

The Black King sounded more intrigued than irate. Jan breathed in heavily. What he was about to do probably required every bit of courage he had.

-- This is wrong.

He was pointing at me. He was standing up for me. I was astounded, and I hoped, I really hoped Jan wasn't going to pay the high price for what he was trying to do. As the king responded, I could sense the venom concealed by his calm tone. I begged for Jan to comprehend the razor's edge he was walking along.

-- Please, continue.

-- This is a respectable warrior with a right to dignity. This display is offensive. No one, not even an enemy, deserves to be dishonored so. You may believe treating him like this reinforces your image, but you're wrong. What you're doing is beneath a king.

The king's grin swelled.

-- I know.

I wouldn't even have needed to see the scene. The measured way he articulated made it obvious that his grin morphed into a cruel, ironic smirk. I suspected Jan was startled, for there was a moment of silence. The king rose from his throne. He paced leisurely around the Baron.

-- You spoke of honesty. I could not agree more about the importance of this principle. I am fully aware that my display of your disgraced comrade is unsightly for you. But I am not a Southern king. I will not passively wait out my reign, kindly wearing my duty like a chain. I will not drown my boredom in luxury to preserve the illusion that I am like you. I am not like you. There is_nothing_ beneath me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I want you to know that I am limitless. I do not hide what I do, or why. You witness now the crude truth of my vengeance, when you begin to recognize the glory of my rule, you will know it as the truth as well.

-- Why wreak your vengeance upon him, then? We all fought against you!

-- You are here, now. You are speaking your concerns to me. You halted the fight when it was lost. Even now, as you disagree with my actions, you consider your situation, and offer something that I want before you attempt to make requests.

The Black King spun toward me, suddenly furious. He waved his clawed hand at me. My stomach twisted into a knot.

"Him? Let me tell you about him. His arrogance was such that he failed to respect my power even as I stood victorious. He exhibited his blatantly insulting opinion of me by provoking me to a duel when he realized that my army could not be defeated, as if I would be dense enough to risk my victory, when I could, instead, easily end his campaign of resistance. And for what? His ridiculous challenge? I was so incensed that I actually went to the duel with my guards to witness the arrest of this insolent fool. To my utter disbelief, I found out that he had even come alone, assured that I would play into his laughable plan! Some challenge he turned out to be. My trap revealed itself to be profoundly unnecessary."

Jan seemed considerably less confident, but he attacked again for my sake.

-- You're imposing such degradation to him because you're insulted that he believed you would fight honorably?

The Demon snapped at Jan with a violent twist.

-- Honor?

The king burst into genuine laughter. He folded over and laughed, and laughed again. In a flash, he was serious, which hinted that the laughter had been, after all, affected. I couldn't read the Outsider as well as I thought.

"Do not throw your hypocritical morals to my face while you stand here to change your allegiance. Had I been a southern rebel lord in a bid for the throne, he would never have challenged me. He would have expected me to be tricky, and deceitful. He would have expected me to cheat. Did he believe the wild, peasant-king from the Lowlands to be of superior moral stock than his own civilized countrymen? No. He simply thought that I would be too _fucking_stupid to understand betrayal. He staked his life on an absurd attempt to slay me, and he failed. His life is mine. If I had executed him, everyone would have understood. You would not be here arguing. Instead, I chose to use my property differently, to teach him a lesson. Now, you are here throwing morals to my face. Why? Death would have been better? In this case, let us put this matter to rest."

The Outsider marched to me, unstoppable, while Jan observed helplessly. The Black King towered over me, squashing me with his presence. I trembled.

"Slave, useless stain, tell us. Do you want to be put to death? I shall arrange it shortly. All will end. You will end, erased from this world like an unheard whisper. I will do it. I swear that I will do it."

It happened so fast. I'd not seen it coming. I comprehended the meaning of "mortal terror". I abruptly saw myself teetering on the verge of the final abyss. I was close, so close to death. If I merely gave the wrong answer, or if my panicked squirms were interpreted badly, I would die. I would really die. Now that I had the choice before my nose, I couldn't consider it with any sort of cool bravado. I whimpered tearfully, shaking my head, gawking imploringly to my owner, feeling my spirit shrivel as I discovered what a coward I was.

The Black King wallowed triumphantly in my abjectness.

"Are you sure? I will beat you. I will treat you however I want. I might keep you chained in the kennels. I might lock you into a tiny cage, next to my throne, force-feeding you purée, just to hear you going insane inside. Just say yes, and I will be unable to do any of these fun-sounding things. Say yes, and the baron will not have wasted his time."

I kept groveling wretchedly. I wanted this to end. I wanted to stay alive. The king's boot crashed into my face. It hurt. I went back to groveling, and shaking my head.

"I am not sure my guest is quite convinced yet."

The Outsider seized my ears by their black tips, and turned me around so that I knelt facing the entry hall instead of the throne. He lowered my head, making me kiss the ground through the leather.

"Show how happy you are, here."

I didn't know what to do. I wanted the deathly threat to leave. With an approving yelp, I wagged my tail, and bobbed my matted, seed-caked ass and balls up and down as much as I could. My owner laughed at my wiggling. Mercifully, I couldn't see Jan anymore.

"See? There is nothing to worry about."

I heard only the footsteps of the king as he went back to his throne.

"Your request for your friend's freedom is denied. I trust you will now drop the matter entirely, and for good, or should I find someone else to serve me as a less competent Baron of the Maran estate?"

Jan reflected. I could only imagine his contrite expression.

-- No. I will await your further instructions pertaining to the management of the lands entrusted to me. I look forward to assisting your endeavors.

-- Excellent. You may leave.

I heard the sad resignation in Jan's voice. He had tried. He was probably about halfway toward the main entrance when the Black King spoke again.

"Loyalty."

No. I couldn't bear this. I screamed internally. The Demon had noticed that Jan had subtly replaced the word loyalty from his oath. I knew Jan. He hated breaking his word. I didn't want this to happen. I closed my eyes, and silently prayed "please no" about a dozen of times during the interval it took Jan to reply.

-- I'm sorry? said my friend with poorly feigned confusion.

Jan had walked into my field of view. When he turned, I saw that, at last, he was frightened of the Black King.

-- The oath. It is loyalty, usually, not honesty. Am I wrong?

-- You're right. I thought that honesty did a better job of setting up what I was about to say.

It was a plausible explanation. My heart stopped. I perked my ears for the reaction. What I heard blew me away.

The king was back to charm.

-- Good answer. Truth is respectful. Will I dispose of your loyalty all the same?

Jan hesitated, but he was cornered.

-- You will.

The king breathed deep. He was calm and friendly.

-- Please do not abuse my trust.

Jan bowed, and left. I breathed again. The large wooden doors to the entry hall shut close.

-- Anyone else? asked the king, nonchalantly.

Meleth and the treasurer appeared to wake up from some sort of stone-form curse. They confirmed that all Southern nobles were dealt with for the day. They picked up their scrolls, and left by the side door. Only the guards remained. And the king. And me.

"Slave!"

The Outsider could project something fierce. I quivered, and turned around laboriously on my knees. I didn't want to get him angry. I didn't want anything to do with him. I wished, oh-so-hard, that he would be content to leave me there.

He pointed near his feet.

"Heel."

I got up, weakly. He yelled.

"Do not dare stand without permission!"

I collapsed. I crawled, interminably, moving one knee for a few centimeters, and then the other, unable to even go down on all fours without my arms. I dragged my soiled remains the entire distance to the steps, surrounded by quiet emptiness, and then, I dragged them up each step. I reached the designated spot at his feet.

"Down."

I lowered myself completely on the ground. I folded my legs as much as I could under me, to make the smallest possible mound. I lay like a sad, flat rug. Lost. Blank. The Outsider sat immobile. His eyelids were heavy.

"Always pick survival. I would have done that too. I did."

It took me a moment to assess what he said. I was too weak, too neglected to think straight.

"I have to sleep."

The king was melting. Every few seconds, his head bumped up, and immediately resumed drooping. With an ultimate burst of wakefulness, he got to his feet. As he slid away, he proclaimed:

"If anyone feels like pleasuring themselves over the Silver Warrior, that is allowed."

The Demon disappeared. Four entrances gave in and out of the throne room. Each had two guards. There were five Boneheads, and three Black Guards. They all looked at each other, and remained put.

I was awakened, later, when one of the Boneheads changed his mind. He seemed embarrassed, at first. He stroked himself faster, and chuckled. Eventually, his spurts of hot feline jizz landed over my back, and on my head. My nose received a few dribbles. He put his sex away, and returned to his post. One by one, the other Boneheads followed his example. I watched them all masturbate until I was wet. When the new shift replaced them, they took their turns too, informed by their comrades. No Black Guard moved.

While I was showered in glory, I reflected upon some of the things the Outsider said. He'd been, perhaps, a tiny wee bit right. I wouldn't have challenged a Southerner.

My thought was interrupted by sticky liquid landing over my left eye. I closed it. I struggled, half asleep, to remember what the thought was. Only when one of the barbarians had the particularly amusing idea of putting his cock directly up against my nose, and to ejaculate over my nostrils, did it come back to me. I blew to avoid breathing it in, but it kept seeping back in, so I breathed some anyway. That's when I caught my fleeting thought.

The Black King hated me. Apparently, he also found me good enough to fuck, so why would he ever hold back? I realized something simple, and deep. I realized why I was so much more terrified of rape than any other form of violence. It wasn't that it was especially destructive. A thousand other things could hurt or debase. No. It was because it was so damn easy. All that was required for it to happen endlessly was a plain failure of empathy, combined with the absence of a social price to pay. No other form of abuse had a fundamental component of pleasure. An excuse, an opportunity, and wham: another one pulled my tail, and came all over it, purely because it wasn't too dirty yet.

I was in real, serious trouble. As the Boneheads had their fun, I wished that I had the courage to end it.