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Nyman played with his hooved fingers on top of the smooth oaken table. He tried to improvise a nice rhythm to his tune, but it was chaotic, and his makeshift drum was meant to hold plates, cups, saucers and cutlery, not make music. It appeared to discreetly annoy the person in front of him, so he stopped fiddling on the table of his private dining room. "Private" was a relative term. The zebra ruler had two guards standing by, three servants -- including his favorite one, an antelope named Lorris -- not to mention his guest. They sat very close. The rectangular table was small, meant for one.

Nyman's chin left his palm, and his fingers traced along the side of his long and noble muzzle as he straightened up, and renewed his courteous smile.

-- So, my friend, have you taken that walk along the White Moss River after all?

The sturdy blond horse had a cream-colored, nearly white mane. Just like Nyman's black-and-white crescent of thick short hairs, the horse's mane stood straight up following the arc of his neck. Brush manes, as they were called, symbolized virility and martial readiness in both of their respective cultures, and so the two wore them as befitted warrior males of high status.

The guest kept his faint content expression, and helped himself to another serving of golden-crusted vegetable potpie. It smoked deliciously when the large wooden spoon dug into it and the horse poured it into his plate, but Nyman wasn't very hungry, and preferred to nibble. He sipped a bit of the bitter, foam-rich, undiluted ale that his visitor had brought as a gift, and he had to concede that it was extremely well-suited to his tastes. That kind of quality brew was a rare, magnificent gift, and he had two more unopened casks of it. That wasn't even the best gift he'd received. It was almost too much. Then again, the visit was unexpected. Technically, King Yedezh was an enemy. Though their countries hadn't been in a state of open hostilities for many years, they weren't at peace. Still, this was a diplomatic event, and Nyman had welcomed the rival leader with honor.

-- I have, the horse responded unhurriedly while placing the spoon back into the dish. Your man Lorris made for a most agreeable and interesting companion. We talked about many a fascinating subject and, I must admit, your lands hold some truly splendorous sights.

Nyman nodded approval to his loyal servant, but the antelope didn't react -- he probably hadn't noticed. Lorris stood patiently by the side of the table, draped in the elegant, baggy white clothes of the higher servant classes. His dark twisting horns waved inconspicuously with his breaths, but he was otherwise statuesque in his diligence to his task of ensuring the royal meal would proceed without fault or interruption. The half-moon markings under his eyes -- which were the same dark brown color as his coat save for his white face, belly and inner limbs -- gave him an everlastingly sad expression that never failed to charm his king. Lorris was adorable. Nyman rewarded the devotion of his servant regularly, and decided to do so again very soon.

The zebra pushed his chair back a few centimeters when he slowly got up to his hooves with his cup. Behind a thin red veil that allowed comfortably subdued light to get through sat an elevated balcony with a gorgeous view of the city, and the savanna beyond. The king of this land was both wise, and in his prime. Yedezh was a tad younger. Nyman knew this for a fact, because he remembered his father and mother taking him and the rest of the royal family to a feast which had been thrown in honor of Yedezh's birth when he was five. Since then, the relationships between Nyman's country, Massidia, and Yedezh's nation of Berogh had broken down, and had only lately begun to mend. Nyman wasn't sure yet of what it was that the proud stallion was seeking with his visit, but if there was an opportunity for peace, then this interested him. Nyman was always interested in peace. He viewed himself as a shrewd negotiator and an expert administrator, and considered that his accomplishments in these domains made his grandeur, rather than his also considerable martial talents. Oh, yes. He too was prideful.

He lifted the veil out of his way, ducking under it, and leaned against the balustrade. Wind blew with dedication on this day, so it was colder than usual despite the sun, but Nyman had dressed appropriately. He wore a colorful felt coat, in yellows and oranges, over a textured black silk shirt, and dark-brown pants. He took in the fresh air, to clear his mind. He sipped some ale, and then he turned his head to the side, speaking loudly enough to be heard beyond the curtain.

-- I thank you for the kind words, my lord.

It wasn't long before Yedezh joined him on the balcony. The ambitious young stallion's outfit was much more casual than Nyman's, but nonetheless appropriate to his rank. His impressive upper body was covered by a slim layer of flowing white cotton, masterfully crafted, but it had too many trimmings in the zebra's opinion. He wouldn't wear that in public, but Yedezh somehow pulled it off with his confident and cocky smirks. It suited him, in some ways, and so did the equally ridiculous black leather pants, with their lacings along the legs. Nyman found something compelling and beautiful in the act of wearing such strangely feminine apparel with poise, although he didn't care nearly enough about fashion styles to pay it any extra attention. If Yedezh was comfortable with it, good on him. He certainly wouldn't be the one to comment on it.

The stallion took place next to him, and crossed his arms over his chiseled chest. They gazed at this imaginary distant place where the warm blue sky met the dry lands of Nyman's kingdom.

"Servants! You are all dismissed."

Behind the kings, the tableware was quickly and expertly picked up by the servants in a quiet storm of porcelain and metal. In a flash, the table was clean, and the servants gone.

The zebra stared at the crossed arms of his neighbor. He drank.

"Why are you here?"

Yedezh smiled.

-- You are a skilled manager, my friend. My father always said to "watch out for those Massidians! They're crafty devils that fight to the end. Never invade them!"

Nyman laughed at the loving but flawless impersonation of Berogh's last monarch and his booming voice.

-- Good advice.

-- Yes. But your nation is too small to stand alone. Sometimes, I wonder if you aren't too proud to see it. You must consider your situation lucidly.

Nyman chuckled.

-- Is that so?

Yedezh remained neutral.

-- I'm certain it's not pleasant at all for you to consider. I personally have always hated looking at my own weaknesses. If I had your hooves, I imagine I'd be tempted to brush myself off.

Nyman kept his peace. It was true that he didn't enjoy the notion that Massidia might fall under the influence of one of its much bigger bordering countries, realistic as this was.

"It's been a long time since you've given your people a strong sign, hasn't it? No conquests. No marriages."

The stallion marked a pause.

"No alliances."

-- My people are loyal to me. They don't require being dazzled.

-- That's not what I meant. Stagnancy is worrisome. It precedes the fall.

-- Spoken like a pushy young colt. Stability is the mark of a true king.

Yedezh recoiled at the unforeseen insult.

-- And you behave like a gelding! Are you?

There was a moment during which the equines locked stares, but the tension climbed no further.

"I see you enjoy your gift."

-- All of them, responded the zebra, lifting his cup.

The horse wasn't talking about the ale, however. He was looking at the royal band around the base of Nyman's black-and-white neck. Massidian royalty wasn't symbolized by crowns, like in Berogh and most other nations. They wore a wide ornamental metal band around the lower neck that rested against the king's chest and shoulders. The device locked at the front, and a colorful scarf was usually knotted at the back to hide the device's hinge. Nyman's previous one had been an aged golden band with a blue cloth, passed down in his family, but the Beroghan king had offered him a new, much larger one of platinum and red silk. It was an astounding gift, and diplomatic tributes offered by rivaling nation leaders made for very potent symbols of power. It was undeniably showier, but Nyman hadn't been able to resist. He'd put it on immediately, and had sent his family heirloom for display in a place of honor. As soon as he'd seen the precious band, Nyman had begun to think about what he'd give back in thanks for this wonderful object, for he had no intention of letting such a thoughtful attention go unanswered. It would have to be as valuable and personal for Yedezh as the band had been for him, and he was genuinely excited at the prospect of trying and discussing different ideas with his entourage. Would it be jewelry? A house somewhere nice in his lands? A piece of art, perhaps? He didn't know yet.

None of this, nevertheless, changed the fact that he wasn't about to allow this foolish horse -- barely out of his teenage years -- to attempt to coerce him in his own residence. Luckily, Yedezh toned his attitude down a bit. He put on a pained expression, and rubbed his forehead.

-- I apologize. I didn't mean to insult you, or to be pushy.

-- No, you did mean both, but it's all forgiven.

The horse withheld an overt reaction, but his eyes squinted.

-- Thank you.

Nyman swallowed more of his bitter ale. It was refreshing.

-- I am willing to listen to you. You spoke of an alliance. What terms did you have in mind?

The wind blew right through Yedezh's thin shirt. He shivered.

-- It's a bit cold out here, isn't it?

-- Let's head back inside.

Nyman lead the way, and the rivaling kings escorted each other to the throne room. It was small, modestly furnished -- the throne was a bigger, prettier chair -- and, at that moment, empty. Only one guard followed them. Yedezh spoke.

-- The war with my despicable cockroach of a cousin is not going as well as it could. We aren't winning fast enough, and the tide could still change.

Nyman nodded. He listened.

"I'm looking for help in my campaign to reunify Berogh. Massidia hasn't been at war for a long time. Your forces are plentiful, trained and ready for battle. You have the means to fund troop movements. You would prove to be an invaluable ally. A unified Berogh under my rule could guarantee Massidian independence. Our families have been friends for a long time. This is a mutually beneficial opportunity."

The zebra ruler reflected.

-- I can see the benefit for you. Where's the mutuality?

The stallion sighed.

-- You're kidding, right? The alliance! The strong sign! The plunder of my cousins' positions and traitorous cities! The protection afterwards!

Nyman shrugged.

-- You're asking me to plunge my country into war. You say I need a sign, but I disagree, so that's not something I want. The plunder would be nice for some of my most influential vassals and their troops; I'm sure they'd love to get richer in your war at your cousin's expenses. But for most of the country? They'd rather have peace. As for protection, that's not tangible. That's a promise, and once I've helped you, I won't have any leverage. I'll be defenseless. You could renege on it and attack me. So, I ask again. What's in it for Massidia. What's in it for_me_?

-- I can't believe you. Do you even hear the words you speak? You want guarantees? Fine! Fight at my side, and I'll make Massidia an officially attached, but fully independent province. How could I possibly attack you then?

Nyman casually wandered around the room, looking at his hooves, until he happened upon his throne. He sat.

-- So, you want my help in your war, and in exchange, you offer to annex my country?

The stallion exploded.

-- Independent! It'll be. Fully. Independent! I just said that! This is pride, then? You refuse because it feels distasteful to you? You won't lose any power! Your people will be safe! You can't possibly refuse that. Berogh will eventually be united again. If my cousin wins, he won't owe you. If I win, but you didn't help, I won't owe you. Don't let your arrogance blind you, this is a good deal. I'm not trying to screw you over!

-- I believe you.

There was silence. Yedezh breathed heavily.

"You mean it when you say this, but you're the one who's blind. You want my help and obedience, but you offer only the promise of being a fair master in exchange."

-- Obedience? I said nothing of the sort!

-- So I won't have to swear homage to you?

The horse buried his tough snout into his large hands, exasperated.

-- Of course, you'll have to swear homage...

-- So my "independence" will depend on your whims. My answer is no.

Yedezh's arms fell limply to his sides. He paced before the throne. All friendliness left his face.

-- Incredible. You arrogant son of a whore! I tried. I tried to do this the right way; the respectful way. You just spit to my face. Let's drop all pretenses.

The horse inspired, and plunged his cold blue eyes into the zebra king.

"You have no choice. We both know why."

Nyman struck his armrests, truly infuriated. He burned with anger.

-- I do, actually. I can prove it. Guards!

The horse king opened wide eyes.

"Clean up this rabble and throw it in the streets where it belongs."

-- What!? Don't touch me!

The stallion fought back, but the multiple armed Massidians pouring into the room quickly overcame him.

-- Lift up this trash so it doesn't stain the floor on the way, and throw it out!

The guards struggled with the strong warrior king, but soon they had him up by the arms and legs. He trashed about powerfully, but he remained suspended, undignified.

-- How do you dare! How do you fucking dare!

Nyman pointed a condemning finger, wrathful.

-- I warn you, "king" of half of Berogh! Do not return here uninvited! Now, away from my sight!

Yedezh fought and screamed hysterical insults and threats, but the guards carried him helplessly until he disappeared into a corridor, to be thrown into the dirty streets like a common beggar or a drunkard. Maybe being treated like a sac of refuse would remind him of the importance of context, when dealing with others.

"Damn," Nyman said to himself. "Now, that gift will have to be really good."

The zebra was disappointed. This encounter hadn't happened in a good way at all, but he was_not_ going to be insulted in his own castle. His response had been firm, but Yedezh would cool down, in time, and diplomacy might resume with a more respectful young stud.

Nyman left the throne room, and sought out his favorite servant. He found the antelope on the way to his chamber. Lorris was very slowly moving toward the throne room. The servant bowed humbly.

-- My liege.

Nyman smiled.

-- My room?

Lorris appeared faintly embarrassed.

-- Is this the time, my liege?

The zebra king wrapped a strong arm tightly around the lean shoulders of his cute servant.

-- Oh, sure, sure. My guest has gone on his way, for now.

-- I see...

Nyman initiated the movement, and the antelope followed without any further prompt.

-- Come along, now. I'd like to talk on the way. Tell me more about King Yedezh. Did he discuss sensitive topics during your walk?

The antelope nodded.

-- He did, my liege.

-- How much does he know?

The servant hesitated briefly.

-- He knows about the delicate situation in our kingdom. That was made very clear.

Nyman pondered this information that he'd feared. It was quite upsetting. It might lead to some dire discomfort. The lands of Massidia were divided between a few very important lords from old families, as well as a multitude of much smaller ones that more directly depended on their king. The small ones were easy to manage, but the older families were a more complicated matter. They possessed their own massive armies. Together, their forces compared to what the king himself could raise from his quieter vassals,and_his own royal troops. It was critical to keep their support, but these days they'd been grumbling. They felt that the kingdom was strong, and wasting an opportunity to expand, but Nyman wasn't keen on waging war upon other weaker lands for no reason. Berogh was a massive, aggressive nation, and any military mistake leading to a state of weakness would undoubtedly result in their invasion of Massidia. Then, of course, Yedezh's father had died, and the Beroghan civil war had happened. With the Beroghans busy fighting each other, the lords' desires for war had only increased. Reminding them of their places would be annoying and awkward, but Nyman would do it if he had to. He knew how to handle them. They were_his lords.

-- Did Yedezh mention any concrete plan to use this to his favor?

-- No, my liege. That would be fairly dim-witted.

-- I agree, but he's not smart. Did you get the impression that he has established contact with the great lords of Massidia already?

Another hesitation.

-- No, but I could be wrong.

-- Yedezh said the war isn't going as well as he'd hoped.

-- It's entirely possible that he's losing, my liege. If he's here, he's desperate.

-- I agree.

They reached the door to the royal chamber, and stopped. They didn't touch the handle.

"Did he scout you?"

Lorris squirmed.

-- Yes, my liege.

-- Obviously. Why else would he tell you so much? Did he offer you something very attractive?

-- Yes, he did.

-- And you said...?

The antelope stared into his king's eyes.

-- The truth, my liege. That my feelings on the matter were not wavering.

-- Excellent!

Nyman drew his servant against himself, and rubbed the top of his head, teasing his soft, white ears. They were in public, though, so the antelope didn't respond to the contact.

"That's my good, faithful Lorris. This is why you deserve every bit of your reward. Do you want it?"

Lorris blushed and lowered his eyes.

-- Yes.

The king opened the door for him.

-- After you!

The pair stepped into the shadows, and the servant stood in the middle of the room, as silent as usual. The zebra lit an oil lamp, and went around the room to share that flame with all of the many candles that he had around to set a delicate, personal mood. When he was done, the lighting was soft and warm, but they could see well enough. Nyman briefly slipped his hand up under the servant's shirt, and patted his lower back to nudge him gently toward the bed.

"Go ahead, please."

Lorris did as his king suggested, and sat over the edge of the large, fluffy bed with a gold and purple bedspread. The two looked at each other lengthily. His shoulders dropped a tad as he began to relax and overcome his impression of doing something inexcusable.

Just like he always did.

"So? What will it be? Clothed or nude?"

The servant grinned shamefully.

-- Nude, please.

Nyman chortled as he began by removing his coat, which he placed delicately over a chair. He also unlocked his royal band, depositing it with the coat. Then, he took much more time working with his black silk garment. He crossed his forearms to draw his elbows and shoulders closer together in front of him, and pinched the hem of his silk shirt with his fingers on both sides. He could've instantly pulled the piece of clothing up over his head, but he didn't. Instead, he slowly rolled it up to reveal his striped, short-furred flesh, gradually offering his waist, his abs, and then his black nipples and pectorals for the servant's viewing pleasure. Nyman saw Lorris' hands move together subtly below his waist and press just a bit more tightly, and he decided that it was the cutest thing. The king initiated the final movement, and slowly pulled his shirt over his shoulders and head, blinding himself momentarily. When he could see again, with the silk bundled around his arms, Lorris had leaned forward, and grinned much more happily than before. He waited for the rest of the show.

Nyman was glad to indulge him. He extracted his arms from the inverted shirt, and turned around, displaying his flawless and muscular back. Making deliberate movements, he carefully straightened up his shirt before placing it with the coat, on the chair. When he bent to place it down, he did so excruciatingly slowly, and then rose at the same speed. He turned his muzzle to the side.

-- Is that enough? he teased.

Lorris giggled.

-- No! More nude than that!

-- That's hardly an appropriate way to address your king.

The antelope shut his eyes in embarrassment, hiding them behind one palm, but his grin was wide and happy.

-- Ha! Ha! Ha! I know!

-- Ask again.

-- More nude than that, please, my liege.

-- Much better.

The warrior king resumed his task of unclothing himself. Waving his back one last time for Lorris, he rotated to face him. He unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor. He undid the first button of his pants, and then the second, but then he did nothing more and waited. He waited long enough for his servant to wonder what was going on.

"Want to help? You are my servant."

Lorris laughed again with his clear voice, and it filled the king with delight as it always did.

-- I guess I don't have a choice, my liege!

The antelope moved forward, and knelt before his sovereign. His lithe fingers neared Nyman's waist.

-- No, no. Not like that. No touching. The legs.

Lorris bent his head in acquiescence. He cautiously used the tips of his dark fingers to squeeze the fabric over the zebra's knees. He looked up with an amused face.

"Any pace you want. You decide."

Lorris pulled delicately, at first. The pants were still a bit too tight around Nyman's robust hips and firm butt to slide easily, but slide they did. His underwear began to follow, revealing more and more of the king's pubis. Lorris' expression changed to mischief, and he brutally shoved the legs downward, and the king's underwear went with the pants, stripping Nyman utterly. His flaccid black cock rested over and between his dangling testicles. Even at rest, he was impressive. Lorris trailed his sight along the powerful thighs, descending to the knees, the calves... Then he couldn't help himself, and it snapped back up to the king's manhood.

"Now, look what you've done. You've burned some steps and ruined all the fun."

-- Ha! Ha! I don't know! This looks like it might be fun to me...

Lorris turned his gentle hand white palm up, and moved to cup the king's package.

-- No! No touching.

-- Oh, but I just-

-- No, servant.

-- But I-

-- Servant!

That last exclamation had been considerably sterner. Lorris backed off.

-- I'm sorry, my liege. I got carried away.

Nyman's voice reverted to being serene and playful.

-- It's alright. Go to bed.

-- Yes, my liege.

On that the antelope's tiny insurrection was tamed, and he sat deeper into the bed than before, so he would have enough room to lie down, soon. Nyman whipped his tail left and right, and stepped out of his crumpled clothes. The king put his royal band back on. He loved the feeling of the cool metal on his naked skin, and the gentle tickling of the red silk against his upper back. As the bare warrior crossed the comfortable room, Lorris watched him approach with trepidation, but he turned around to lie flat on his belly when the equine reached the bed. The latter climbed on it and settled on his folded legs, very close to the antelope. Lorris moved his arms up above his head, and let them rest limply. He was relaxing, at last!

"This still feels strange, each time. It's like I'm too lucky, and I shouldn't see any of this, or- Ah!"

Nyman had gone in with force. His agile hands had pulled up the waistline of Lorris' shirt, and had begun kneading the tense muscles of his lower back and sides. The servant soon began to moan softly as the pure ecstasy of respite filled him.

-- Don't be stupid, you deserve every bit. It's only fair that I show you how much your devotion means to me. You offer me your skills, insight, and your trust, so I want you to have something personal of mine in return. Besides, you're always tense. Am I working you too hard?

Lorris simply breathed out, emitting vague whispered vowels, eyes closed, but he shook his head. Nyman made certain that the presence of his arousing nude body -- he had no fake modesty -- was sensed deeply by his servant. He poked his sides with his knees, sat over his legs, leaned deeply over his back... He kept changing positions regularly to shift his weight around and remind his precious Lorris that he was there, with him, close to him, and, in that moment, for him. The offered king massaged his antelope with great care too, pushing his thumbs into his back, squeezing his shoulders, kneading his arms while nuzzling the back of his neck, and, naturally, lowering his pants to palm his rump and thighs. Eventually, he took his servant in his arms and hugged him tightly against his uncovered flesh as a special treat. Lorris clutched him right back. It seemed to pull the servant out of his contented trance. Nyman sensed his delicate hand brushing his mane.

-- I'm worried about the lords, admitted Lorris.

-- Don't be. I'm not.

-- You should be. They're very angry.

-- They'll get over it. They don't understand the military value of peace.

-- Regardless. Will you consider King Yedezh's offer? Just look at it seriously is all I'm asking. It could really be what we need. The war in Berogh won't last forever. They'll recover fast.

-- Alright, I will.

Nyman was lying. There was nothing to consider. He would not bend to the wills of the lesser-minded, incapable of considering what was right in front of them. He was the king. He would make them all acknowledge it if he had to.

Hours later, it had become late night, and the zebra had his amazing servant sitting on him, and was petting his back. They heard a large commotion, and sudden silence. Lorris instantly tensed up, which profoundly irritated the king at whoever was responsible.

-- That's not normal, warned the antelope.

Lorris' anxiety gained Nyman, but he kept it under control.

-- Take it easy. I'm sure it's nothing. Stay and I'll check it out.

-- No. That sounded really bad.

The servant hurried out of bed and straightened his clothes. The king was positive that his friend was correct. The silence made it sound suspicious.

-- Damn them.

Nyman jumped out of bed and caught Lorris, holding him close and staring into his eyes.

"Listen to me. No matter what it is, stay calm. Everything will be fine."

-- There's no time for this! We should call the guards and-

Nyman gave a small impulsion to his servant's shoulders.

-- We will. Listen. Be calm. Whatever it is, I'll handle it. Don't get involved.

-- No! You're not infallible!

The zebra laughed joylessly.

-- A popular theory that has yet to be proven.

-- Stop it! I'm not joking. Get dressed and slip out discreetly before they get here. Let the guards handle it.

-- If it is what I think it is, it's not something the guards will be equipped to handle.

Lorris escaped the hold, and moved toward the door. He listened against it.

-- I can't hear anything. I think it's safe.

-- No! Don't go there!

It was too late. His faithful antelope had opened the door and slipped out. He instantly heard voices. Lorris was arguing with a guard, but there were more people. Much more.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck."

The king hurried and tried to dress up, but he'd barely taken his underwear into his hands when there were knocks against the door. It was the guard.

-- My liege, the guard said through the door, there's some kind of problem.

Nyman slapped his underwear against his crotch, and grabbed his pants.

-- Let me guess. People are here to see me?

-- Uh, yes, my liege.

-- I'll be right out.

Lorris protested on the other side of the door.

-- No! Can't you see it's a coup? Do your damn job! Don't let them see him! Attack!

The guard sounded afraid and disturbed while responding.

-- Lorris, those are lords of the realm, and they brought soldiers. I can't do that.

Nyman began to fasten his belt.

-- No, do not attack them! Let me handle it! It's fine, said the zebra king.

Suddenly, there was heavy movement and shouting.

-- Stop them! implored Lorris.

-- Uh, they're coming in my liege.

The door blew open before Nyman's belt was buckled on. Two lords that he knew well entered the room in arms. The king saw that he was out of time, and ceased struggling with his buckle.

-- What is this?

Lord Donuem, who was also a zebra, talked first.

-- King Nyman, we need you to come with us. We must have a little chat.

-- We certainly do. Can it wait long enough for me to-

Another stepped forward. Lord Olmen. He was a discolored buffalo. He grabbed the king's arm most discourteously.

-- I'm afraid it can't wait at all, my liege.

They brought the half-dressed king out of his room by force. The great lords of Massidia and some of their troops waited in a large semicircle. King Yedezh stood among them, near the middle. He looked angry, and obscenely pleased to see Nyman dragged before him bare-chested, with only his royal band.

It appeared that he had, after all, established contact.

Nyman's first instinct was to yell at them. He wanted to let them know that they were all critically understaffed in the brain area if they thought dragging the mighty king of Massidia out of his room at night was a good idea, but he contained his anger. It wasn't the right time for it. In this moment, they probably thought they had_him_ under control. They'd brush off hostile behavior, and would only feel provoked, and less inclined to listen. He needed them to listen, because their stupidity wasn't dangerous only to themselves. The intensity of the denial into these people was unimaginable! He would set them straight. After that, they'd remember their place for a while. As for Yedezh...

-- King Yedezh, spoke the zebra calmly. I ordered you not to come back.

The blond horse wasn't in his casual outfit anymore. He wore a quality chainmail over a coat, padded pants, and a battle circlet. The king of Berogh was geared for conflict. He smirked, and looked around. A chuckle ran among the Massidian lords.

-- Yet, here I am.

Yedezh pointed to the zebra's naked chest.

"And more importantly, here you are."

Nyman squinted.

-- You think getting me out of bed at night will improve your position? You're in my castle. Those are_my_ lords. Oh, they aren't always, wise, true enough, but they're mine, in the end. They're like family. I love them, even when they're behaving in the most outrageous, treasonous way. You can't get rid of family, can you, Yedezh?

Lord Donuem stepped forward in front of his half-naked king, and placed a condescending hand on Nyman's shoulder. He almost got punched in the face. Almost, but Nyman controlled himself.

-- This would be a good time for you to cease talking, "king", and begin listening to us, and to King Yedezh.

Nyman boiled. He showed a straight face.

-- Alright. Let's do that. I want to know what you all have to say.

-- What you want is irrelevant! shouted Yedezh in a fit of anger. I came here to offer you help! Help you can't refuse! And you insulted me! I tried to show respect, when I could've forced your hand at any time, but your pride made you refuse me! You threw me out like some common thief! So let us make things clearer for you.

The strong hands of Donuem and Olmen pushed on Nyman's shoulders until he fell to his knees before Yedezh and the assembled lords. The floor was cold, and the soldiers shoved him with enough weight that his bones hurt against the stone. He winced.

-- You have no choice, my liege, stated Olmen.

The old buffalo waved two fingers, and a trooper left the crowd holding a parchment and a wooden plaque. Another brought an inkpot and a plume. Olmen continued:

"You will sign the treaty, declaring war upon the usurper of Berogh, and swearing allegiance to King Yedezh in exchange for protection. This will secure Massidian independence. Since we can't let you jeopardize this alliance because of your damned arrogance and you have gravely insulted your own guest the King of Berogh, you will surrender yourself as his hostage until the war is won, and he feels that you have been suitably... disciplined. We will lead the armies ourselves. Now, sign."

Lorris, outraged, made a move toward his king, but he was immediately caught by the conspirators, and forced down to his knees as well.

-- This is insane! You can't betray the king!

-- Don't get involved, warned Nyman.

-- Listen to him, Lorris, laughed Lord Donuem. Your courage is commendable, but it would be too bad if things happened to you. It's King Nyman who betrayed us, by ignoring us, and treating us like servants.

-- You are his vassals! You are his servants!

The troops shoved a cloth down Lorris' mouth, and gagged him, forcing him flat on the floor with needless brutality. Nyman didn't enjoy seeing that.

-- We'll teach this one some manners too, said a soldier.

They laughed and patted the side of the antelope's muzzle while he squirmed hatefully. The treaty and plume were presented to the zebra.

-- Sign, repeated Olmen, or we will take some time to teach you humility first. Your life hangs in the balance, my liege. You have no choice.

Yet another soldier grabbed a coiled whip from his belt, and extended it. It was the exact kind of implement used to punish disobedient slaves. Nyman couldn't believe how far they were taking this joke. He shook his head with a sigh.

-- It looks like you guys have thought of everything, said Nyman.

He never made the slightest move toward the plume.

"I'm curious, though. Obviously, I have no other option but to bow to your demands. All the same, what do you think would happen..."

The zebra king let the silence linger.

"... If I still said no?"

-- You can't say no, pointed out Yedezh.

Nyman gazed at his lords. He talked to them.

-- Yes, but imagine that you went ahead and whipped the monarch of Massidia -- your own liege -- and ended up having to kill me, like idiots, because you underestimated how flawlessly stubborn I can get, this early in the morning. What would happen then?

-- We'd sign the treaty ourselves! blustered Olmen. And you'd be dead!

-- Of course! But which one? Which one of my dear, proud lords would sign the treaty as the new ruler of Massidia? You can't all sign it, can you? That would look ridiculous. So who?

Nyman turned to his left, and stared venomously at Donuem over his shoulder. The zebra lord puffed up his chest, and withheld his king's gaze, but he leaned back almost imperceptibly.

"What about you, Lord Donuem? Will you place your old friend Olmen on the throne? Will you swear loyalty to him, as his vassal? He is your equal. Will you lift him up at the cost of lowering yourself? Will you bear the weight of this new king on your shoulders?"

Nyman turned to his right, and glanced at the old buffalo.

"Good Lord Olmen, my friend for years. Can you hear your own voice thanking your new young master King Donuem for his time when he will accept to see you? Say it for me, in your head.Yes, my liege King Donuem! Thank you, my liege King Donuem! Whatever you say, my liege!"

Olmen remained stone-faced. Nyman faced the other great lords and their troops. He straightened his back and his head, and the royal band shone with the flickering lights of the torches.

"Let's save some time, and immediately take a few seconds to think about it, something that, obviously, none of you has done. Which one of you proud lords_doesn't_ see himself ruling in my stead? By all means, join me on your knees! That's where you will end up anyway if I die. There must be a new king, but only one, so who will kneel first?"

The stillness was absolute. Suddenly, the atmosphere was sickly and hot. No one was comfortable. The king of Massidia pressed his case.

"Let's imagine further. I'm dead, and with me, so is Massidian unity. Your little leaderless coalition seizes my castle to declare a war that the vast majority of the other lords_don't_ want. These lords -- who loved me -- what do you think will be their reaction? What will my personal commanders and generals do, when they learn that you sold Massidia to our weakened enemies? Will they pledge to a king that doesn't exist yet while you fight each other like fools? Or will you all be put down like dogs? Is this the war you wanted, then? It will happen here, not elsewhere. Your own lands will be burned and pillaged. There won't be much profit in it, I assure you, and Massidia will be conquered, but not by Berogh."

Nyman stared at Yedezh. The blond stallion looked around.

-- What are you doing? Just stop him from talking and make him sign!

The master of Massidia ignored him.

-- I'd like to point out, right now, that on the off chance that after this cute little event of ours, I might still be the ruler of this country, whoever will still have their hands on my servant by the time I'm done talking will be made to eat those hands.

The soldiers leaped back away from Lorris, but did nothing further. The room was confused. The antelope stood, tearing off the gag, and spat at the lords' hooves, rubbing his shoulders. Nyman turned toward the blond stallion slowly, ominously.

"At last, Yedezh, I would address you as well."

The King of Berogh crossed his arms over his armored chest, defying the kneeling zebra.

"Exactly how much help do you think a team of dead or exiled traitors will be for you in your war? It seems to me that, if I die, Massidia dies, so even if I were to refuse all of your absurd demands, my lords would still lose much more from taking me down than bowing to my will. They're fools, but they're my fools, in the end. Did you consider what would happen if, suddenly, something reminded them of that?"

-- It would change nothing, hammered the horse. You must still pick a side. Do you truly think my cousin will offer you better terms? He doesn't even know you. Massidia would end up annexed anyway. Help one of us, or don't help anyone, there are no other choices, and only I am offering your nation independence. Even now, I'm still too strong for you to attack alone.

-- That's a very interesting point of view. It's shortsighted, though. Can you picture how terrible it would be for you if I simply decided to wait?

-- To wait?

Nyman adopted a cheerful tone.

-- Yes! To wait! My lords here want a war. They've been wanting me to expand our nation for a while. I refused them, so they got impatient, as usual, failing to recognize my strategy. They want to join your side because you offer them a war, but what if, by some miracle, they suddenly remembered that I'm smarter than them. What if they took their hands off my shoulders, and that we rose as one force to fortify along your border, and wait? I don't think your cousin would be very threatened, do you? Would he abandon his claim to the throne because we're threatening to steal some of his enemy's lands? I doubt it. I think he'd welcome it. The way I see it, you, Yedezh, don't have a choice fighting this war, but we do. You will keep fighting, and weaken, until nice, wide strips of your lands are ripe for the picking. We can invade only then. The fighting would be easier for us, and the reward much greater than if we fought your cousin right away. Alternatively, I guess you could surrender to your cousin to preserve Beroghan unity, but I don't imagine that would be a pleasant end for you. I can't quite visualize you choosing that. It's obvious to me that Massidia and the Massidian lords would benefit much more from following my lead rather than that half-baked scheme of yours. In the end, the choice is theirs, however.

The young stallion responded nothing. He simply kept his head high, frozen. Nyman breathed deep. The time had come.

"Donuem, Olmen, my lords, help me up."

The disbelief was dreamlike. The lords of Massidia looked on as King Nyman slowly rose from his knees. He faced Donuem, who was about his size and build.

"Take off your tunic, Lord Donuem."

The other zebra seemed startled and afraid.

-- My liege, why-

-- Because you dragged your king out of his room in the middle of the night, and without a shirt! You will drop to your knees! You will remove your shirt, and you will shut the fuck up, right now, or I will have you boiled and skinned alive!

By the time Nyman had finished screaming into his vassal's face, Donuem was down and busy taking off his armor and tunic. Soon, he was offering it to his king in silence. Nyman covered himself.

"Everyone else, on your knees as well."

The great lords of Massidia appeared much less like warriors at this point. Yedezh looked on with authentic dread as they surrendered in shame. Suddenly, he was alone.

"You too, Yedezh."

The kings defied each other for many seconds. The horse bowed his head and descended to his knees. Nyman walked around his chastised vassals.

"You, my lords, are very lucky to betoo fucking stupid for me to take seriously, or you would all be tortured to death for this highly treasonous act. I am the king of Massidia.Me! I brought this tiny nation to political and military relevance, and I won't allow you to ruin it. Return to your lands, and gather your troops. In reparation for this offense, you will donate three quarters of your yearly collected rents and tariffs to the kingdom. You'll get your war, but you'll remember your places. I negotiate. I decide. You will obey, or you'll meet the limits of my mercy. Understood?"

No one dared answer.

"Did I make myself clear?" screamed the undisputed ruler of Massidia.

The room mumbled disorganized approbations.

"You may all take your leave."

The exode began. Movements were subdued, sounds were muted. The vassals and their troops disappeared in shame. Only a pale stallion remained in the end, alone, curved over his knees. Lorris joined his king, and was welcomed with an affectionate stroke of his back. They gazed at the horse.

-- Please, he said. My cousin is winning. I need this alliance. I just wanted your help.

The zebra moved closer.

-- You should have said that in the first place. You should have said it like that, instead of trying to present it as if you were doing me a favor. We would've talked it out, and found a real mutually beneficial deal. Instead, you tried to coerce me. You threatened me. You tried to steal my nation. You_are_ a petty thief. Just not a smart one.

The sounds of breathing.

-- I, I know. I'm sorry. You're right. But maybe we can-

-- I don't want to talk to you. I'll watch your cousin devour you, little by little. When the time is right, I'll deliver the final strike, and profit from your defeat as much as I can. Berogh will be too weak to do anything about it, by then.

-- My cousin isn't a merciful soul. My end will be gruesome.

-- Strange, I don't seem to care.

Nyman motioned to leave. Yedezh raised his desperate face.

-- Please! It'll be in your favor!

The zebra stopped, and frowned.

-- What will?

-- The alliance. We'll make the terms in your favor. Heavily in your favor! I'll accept any deal that saves my life and my kingdom.

Nyman pondered, but shook his head.

-- I don't trust your words. You've shown that you have no respect. You're lying to me.

Yedezh dragged himself a few centimeters forward onto his knees.

-- No! I mean it! Please, I'm desperate! I'm out of allies! You're my last chance. Dictate the terms you think are fair, and I'll follow them to the letter! I'll do anything!

-- No, you won't.

The stallion got angry, and shouted.

-- Yes! I will!

Nyman wasn't exactly in the best mood either. He could barely believe how insistent Yedezh could get. He shared a look with Lorris, and then he smiled cruelly.

-- Alright. Take off your armor.

The horse hesitated.

-- Why?

Nyman turned away and walked toward his room with Lorris.

-- As expected. Have him thrown out.

-- No, no! I'll do it! Look.

Nyman stopped again. True enough, the young monarch removed his chainmail, and placed it in front of him. He also removed the blue padded coat. Underneath, he wore the same light cotton shirt as he'd worn earlier.

-- Your weapons, belt, and padded pants.

-- Alright.

Yedezh worked as fast as he could, but Nyman could see his fingers tremble. He unfastened his belt and placed it over the blue coat. He pushed the padded pants down, revealing long beige trousers that he'd traded for the leather pants. His blade remained with his belt.

"Here. I'm entirely harmless."

Nyman rolled his eyes.

-- Oh, I know.

He tapped his right hoof against the floor, making a decision.

"Let's see how committed your really are to these peace talks first, and then we might discuss the alliance."

Yedezh brightened up.

-- Yes! Thank you! That's all I ask.

-- Follow us.

The horse jumped to his hooves and quickly joined Nyman and his servant. Lorris opened the door to the king's room, and let both royal-blooded equines in first. He closed behind them. The atmosphere inside hadn't changed. The candles burned. Nyman walked to the bed. Lorris followed him.

-- You were sleeping with candles? asked Yedezh.

-- Shut up.

The pale stallion couldn't avoid feeling wounded. It wasn't right to address him in this way. Then, he reminded himself that he'd just threatened Nyman in his castle, using his own vassals, and that he needed his help. He stood alone in this strange room, and felt vulnerable. He really didn't want to provoke Nyman further. He'd have to swallow his pride until the zebra calmed down. He simply nodded.

-- Yes.

The zebra responded while sitting on his bed.

-- While you are here as an uninvited guest, you will address me properly.

-- Yes, my liege. I understand.

-- Good. Take off your clothes.

Nothing happened. Yedezh snickered, as if it was some bizarre joke. Nyman and his antelope servant both stared at him from the bed, looking awfully serious.

"All of them."

Yedezh ceased smiling, paralyzed.

-- What? Why? I don't have any weapons.

-- Consider it as a reminder of your place, here, relative to me. You will stand right where you are, and you will strip fully, or I will have you thrown out, and you can solve your issues with your cousin using conversation, as is appropriate with family.

Yedezh fidgeted nervously. He couldn't stop looking at Nyman, and then at Lorris, and then back to Nyman...

-- You can't be serious. I'm the king of Berogh! I can't just... do that... like a...

His sentence trailed off.

-- Yes. I can see the depth of your commitment now, spat Nyman.

Yedezh was outraged.

-- You can't treat me like this! This has nothing to do with the alliance!

-- I'm afraid that's for me to decide. I'll make it easier for you. If your shirt isn't on the floor in five seconds, I'm calling the guards. Five.

-- This is crazy!

-- Four.

-- Okay, okay! I'm taking it off, please stop counting down. I'm doing it!

Yedezh angrily pinched his left sleeve, and slipped his arm out of it. He then pulled his right arm inside and passed his cotton garment over his head. It fell to his hooves. He breathed heavily, feeling his naked torso observed. He'd been bare-chested before, but it had never felt remotely as degrading as it did then. He stared down and covered his nipples with his strong arms, feeling perfectly ridiculous.

"I get it," said Yedezh. "That's how you felt when-"

-- Shut up. What do you think, Lorris?

The servant smirked, and rubbed his chin.

-- I really can't say yet, my liege.

Nyman agreed with a gesture.

-- Right. No hasty decisions. Pants.

The horse squirmed.

-- No, not that. Please...

-- Five.

King Yedezh gritted his teeth, and began to undo his trousers. He chattered all the while.

-- Look, I swear I understand. I regret, I really do! I'm sorry. I have to do what you say, okay? And I will! I'll negotiate in underwear. I'll do it.

The leggings fell off, revealing tight grey undergarments that descended along his muscular legs no further than a few centimeters below the horse's distinctly outlined genitals. The equine stopped covering his chest to hide that instead. He focused on the mattress under Nyman and his servant. He couldn't look at them in the eyes anymore. He spoke again. His voice wasn't nearly as loud as before. He made longer pauses between sentences. He was very soft, all of a sudden.

"I'd like to stop there, my liege. No more, okay? I, I think I'm already plenty humbled, I swear. I assure you, I won't be feeling like making any arrogant demands like this. I understand my place... Please?"

Nyman examined the chiseled, elegant body. The blond horseflesh was smooth and enticing. He gently elbowed Lorris.

-- So, what about now? asked the zebra.

-- I like the begging.

-- Me too.

-- It might be easier to make up my mind if he didn't place his hands in the way so much.

On this, Nyman scowled at Yedezh until the latter forced his arms to hang limply at his sides. The horse had never felt so exposed before, and certainly not in front of a servant.

"It's better," commented the antelope, "but what about the other side?"

-- Revolve, simply ordered Nyman.

-- If I do, may I keep my underwear?

-- Revolve.

Yedezh gradually rotated to show his backside. He shivered in shame. He sensed them detailing his cream-white tail and mane, his well-defined back and the shape of his bum through the extremely light final piece of clothing he was wearing.

"Stop."

Yedezh faced away. He didn't know what to say, or how to plead anymore, so he said nothing.

-- Yeah, I like him, decided the antelope. He looks good like this. I'm pleased. What about you, my liege?

-- No. It's not nearly enough.

There was a pause.

"Take off your underwear, king of Berogh. I wish to evaluate my potential ally."

-- No.

There'd been no doubt in Yedezh's mind. He couldn't.

-- Too bad. Lorris, fetch the guards and have him thrown out as he is.

The horse begged.

-- Mercy, my liege. At least, not in front of your servant!

-- If you don't want to strip, you can walk home in your underwear, Nyman added callously. I'm sure your court will understand if you explain well, and won't view this as a further sign of your weakness.

Yedezh moaned in distress, but the threat sufficed. His guts knotted, and the underwear came down. It happened in a flash. The blond stallion had bent and pushed his last remaining covering to his knees. The sad garment fell, and the king of the mighty nation of Berogh was fully stripped. The magnificent stallion stood in the middle of the room, still facing away, knowing that the candlelight danced on his offered rump. He expected something, anything, but no. Lengthy seconds passed and he was merely observed. At least, he assumed so.

"Stay where you are. Stand straight. Leave your arms to your side. We want to look for a while."

Yedezh stared at his hooves, thoroughly humiliated. He imagined they'd make him bend over and spread his buttocks apart, or turn around and lift a leg high to better display his stout cock and balls, which were nested into short, soft down of the same milky color as his mane. Yedezh could've never imagined he'd one day undress tamely for other males. This should've been unacceptable, but he had no choice! Nyman held his fate. He had no alternative but to comply with any command. He felt so weak, so helpless! The horse was voiceless and immobile, but he produced a few faint words to demonstrate that he understood his position, in order to appease the angered ruler.

-- Should I take off my circlet too? he whispered, barely audibly.

Nyman looked to Lorris.

-- Circlet or no circlet?

-- It's cute, said the antelope.

-- Keep it on, lest we might forget that you're the king of Berogh, and mistake you for some shy new slave.

The Massidian king laughed and went on:

"How does it feel to depend completely upon someone else, without any recourse? That's what you tried to impose to me and my people. Discipline me for my offense? Did you think I missed that part? I gave you what you deserved. I warned you, yet you returned and pushed me even more. I should lock you up in the middle of a market square, tell my people what you've done, and leave you in their care while I negotiate your price with your cousin. I'm sure he wouldn't mind the state in which you'd be delivered."

Yedezh wanted to say that he was sorry, and grateful for Nyman's mercy, but he had no time. As soon as he began to make sounds, the Massidian ruler sternly interrupted him.

"I don't think you need to be talking right now. You need to be standing naked for us, and be prepared to obey further orders. Turn around, and move closer. It would suit me to examine your front."

Yedezh compelled his legs to move, and obey the distasteful order. Carefully, he turned around, and walked away from his bundled clothes. His hefty male organs hung in full display. He couldn't believe how alien it felt to sense the air on his sensitive bits while standing to attention in the same obsequious and wordless way as a slave would. He stopped and kept his place two meters away from the bed.

Nyman and Lorris leisurely moved their eyes from his shoulders, passed over his defined pectorals and nipples, contemplated his visible abs, and landed on his penis. They turned to each other in shared amusement. Yedezh blushed harder than he would've thought possible, praying for it to be unnoticeable.

"Somehow, I expected better."

The antelope shook his head at his king's words. He stood and approached Yedezh gently.

-- No, no. He's not bad at all, just a little timid.

Nyman flicked his hand dispassionately.

-- Respectfully, King Yedezh, stretch your thighs so that I may appraise the size of your cock more easily. Put your hands behind you.

The once proud stallion had no desire to comply with this, but this was a curious situation he was in. As moments went by, disobedience appeared less and less like a viable option. He was already engaged on this path. As much as the disgrace of being treated like a cheap whore twisted his guts, he sensed that resisting then would be utterly futile. There was nothing to do but to be patient and give the Massidian monarch everything he demanded. He moved his hooves aside, one after the other, until his legs were spread wider. He placed his hands behind his back, and this -- by some miracle -- managed to make him feel even more helpless.

"Now, pull up your dick, so that I can see your entire kit."

As usual, the stallion took a few seconds to react, but he complied. His right hand moved to the front, took his cock, and brought it up. He discovered unforeseen new depths to embarrassment.

"Harder."

The hand pulled more, and the large ballsack was lifted along. They watched his dangling testicles.

-- See? said Lorris. He can behave. He merely needs a hand.

The lowly antelope's hand moved toward Yedezh's balls. He jerked away with a step back, forgetting his stance. The change in Nyman's face was plain.

-- Get back in your place, you dumb horse! Pull up your dick, and politely request that my servant entertain himself with your nuts, and then thank him. Otherwise, get out! We'll let your cousin get creative with them instead.

Yedezh whined.

-- But-

-- Shut up and obey! You'll know when I care about your opinion.

Nothing else was added. The disciplined horse returned to his place near Lorris. He pulled his cock up to his navel to offer his privates away again. He mouthed the words as best he could with his clenched teeth.

-- Please entertain yourself, sir.

-- Very kind! said Lorris.

The fuzzy hand quietly slapped under Yedezh's maleness, which jolted the blond naked body. The pain was brief, however, and only a tiny startled moan escaped the stallion, but he shot the servant a deathly glare. They were waiting, so he forced himself and stumbled on the words. The effort drained his rage.

-- Th-thank you, sir.

Yedezh burned with intense febrility when Lorris palmed his orbs to weigh them. They were pushed up, and the hand closed around them with the exact tightness before which it would begin to hurt. The firm fingers wiggled slowly to knead the sensitive protuberances, shoving them left and right. Getting handled in this fashion made the horse uneasy in a very different way. He recognized the feverish feeling in his lower abdomen. He worried. This couldn't be. He couldn't be attracted to this disgrace! Lorris' grip was warm and expert, but he tried to ignore it. Nyman was attentive.

The servant drew insistently. Yedezh recognized his control immediately, and stepped as required to relieve the tension. Soon, he witnessed himself being led by the balls by that antelope... He followed passively, as the grasp on his testicles directed. Lorris walked him around the room in silence, while Nyman simply smiled at the appropriate show that was being made out of the disgraced monarch of Berogh.

-- What a nice, calm stud! remarked Lorris after their lengthy promenade around the room.

The zebra nodded.

-- I can see the improvement in attitude.

-- It's all in the handling. Look.

The clutch intensified. Yedezh's large globes squeezed together. He whimpered.

"Down, stud. Down for your master."

Lorris squatted little by little, bringing the horse lower and lower until he was on his knees before Nyman. The antelope turned him so that he'd face away. The sour pain was steady. Yedezh couldn't wait for it to cease. He wanted that mitt off his damn balls!

"Bend forward on your hands, stud. You know your place in these walls. Fall to it."

Yedezh fought himself. The last thing he wanted was to crawl pitifully before those two, but perhaps if he demonstrated sufficient surrender, Nyman would be more inclined to forgive him and help. He didn't want to lose everything, and flee in exile from his cursed traitor of a cousin! He didn't want to live in hiding and fear, in the courts of strange countries where he'd be considered as little more than a glorified beggar, to be shown around by his hosts as a proof of their influence like some rare collectible! To avoid all of this, he needed Massidian assistance. He'd been so certain that Nyman would take the deal. What had gone wrong? How had this wily zebra king turned his plan around so violently? He couldn't even fathom it. How frustrating!

Yedezh sighed. In the end, he took the position, and went down on all fours, fully beaten. Fully lowered. The servant corrected the stance a bit, curving the stallion's back, widening his knees, lowering his shoulders and head with a forceful caress over his brush mane. Lorris enjoyed sensing the stiff hairs, and continued to touch him even when the pose was duly adopted, but he eased his hold on his nether parts. Yedezh's bent, exposed body was stroked noiselessly for what seemed to him like a full minute. During that time, on his hands and knees, he felt his cock growing with wordless horror. He focused on that_not_ happening, to little effect. Soon, it would no longer be possible to overlook. He wished Lorris would stop stroking him, stop fondling his balls, but the antelope had too much fun. He petted the stallion's neck and spoke softly.

"There's a good stud, all ready to be broken in. It's near criminal to waste such a feisty male by not riding him frequently."

The antelope inclined his malicious head. With a spirited fistful of pale mane, he rubbed his lean muzzle against Yedezh's square one. Then he blew gently into his blond ear to tease him.

"Do you have someone at home to ride you, King Yedezh? You seem awfully eager. No?"

Naturally, Yedezh said nothing. Lorris finally let him go, but it was too late by a long shot. His massive shaft was stiffening in plain view between his broadened legs, and he couldn't do anything about it. The servant stood, smacked his ass, and the blow waggled his dick. It stung, but the furry hand patted the struck cheek as if to make it better.

"See, my liege? He's not mean, he likes you! You have yourself an enthusiastic, juicy royal butt to pound at will."

Yedezh struggled to deal with this absurd arousal! It made no sense! How could this degradation affect a stallion warrior in such a way? He sure as hell didn't desire this, and yet staying in place, sexually presented to Nyman and his perverted servant, sensing their gazes under his tail and on his full-blown erection while he wasn't even allowed to protest, knowing how they could use him as they pleased... He hoped his glorious ancestors weren't watching then.

Nyman shook his head at his servant with a sneer.

-- Don't be crude, Lorris. Yedezh isn't a cheap whore. He is the rightful heir to Berogh. This is a diplomatic meeting. If he keeps up his excellent behavior, I_will_ accept to discuss the alliance once more.

Yedezh's ears perked up. He'd feared Nyman had forgotten -- or that he didn't care. If the Massidian ruler could be convinced to let him go and grant full military support to his claim, the Beroghan civil war would be short, and Yedezh would preserve his father's legacy. If Nyman was serious about this, then this ignominious defilement of his honor could possibly be worth it. Once back on his throne, with a reunified Berogh behind him, the horse king would indeed be in control again. That overconfident zebra would have to readjust his attitude, then, and it would be more than sweet to watch Nyman bow in fearful reverence, knowing that_he_ now depended on Yedezh's forgiveness... It would do much to soothe his mutilated pride.

Nyman pushed himself up from the mattress of his rich bed, and advanced upon the shivering stallion at his hooves. Lorris stepped aside, eager to see this powerful enemy king reduced to learning about dominance from a different angle. Nyman crouched behind Yedezh, close enough for his waist to brush the blond rump, and then he merely placed his hand over the top of the rounded right buttock. His fingers tapped on it, but it made no music.

"Do you know what the point of a diplomatic gift is?"

Nyman talked to Yedezh. The horse knew that he was being talked to, but he didn't know if he was supposed to answer. The zebra didn't wait long. He curved over Yedezh's back, wrapped his left arm around his chest and shoulders, and pulled him back up to a kneeling position. Yedezh leaned into Nyman's chest. The black-and-white equine enveloped him, and the naked horse experienced the eerie sensation of feeling simultaneously less exposed, and more owned, as the zebra's clothes pressed against his flesh.

"The point of those gifts is to express commitment. Negotiations can't happen without trust, and a precious gift is a nice way of showing good faith. You give something with no strings attached, and the other party knows you are serious about that relationship."

Nyman's right hand left the rump, and slid along Yedezh's inner thigh. The horse breathed sharply when he sensed it moving toward his erection, but it stopped at the base of his crotch. The index folded, and the knuckle nudged his balls. The stallion's shaft twitched, but he tried to focus and listen.

"You gave me amazing gifts, Yedezh. I was happy that you were serious about us. I wanted to talk to you. And then this. You immediately try to force my hand, and you betray me. I don't see respect. I don't see trust. How can we make a deal if I expect you to turn on me at the first opportunity? Do you really think I'll help you regain Berogh if I anticipate you to seek vengeance afterward? Answer me."

-- No, my liege.

Yedezh closed his eyes when the firm grip reached his hard sex. Nyman played along the length. The intimate touches couldn't be ignored. Nude within his captor's hold, the stallion struggled to concentrate on why he was passively allowing this to happen. He tried to think of his duty to his country, of his pride as a leader, but no matter what thought he conjured, it returned to the sizzling hand stroking his massively erect penis, and to the antelope servant greedily observing as Nyman made him his plaything.

-- You will call him master, stud, coldly asserted the antelope. Otherwise, you will be disciplined.

The horse looked up despondently into the servant's profound stare, and whispered quietly.

-- Alright.

The hand stopped moving, but the hoofed thumb kept waving back and forth against the tip of his cock, provoking noticeable waves of itching pleasure and excitement in the strong body. Yedezh couldn't control it, but he tried to hide it by avoiding speaking. He didn't want his voice to tremble.

-- Lorris is being harsh, commented Nyman, but it is_his_ reward that you rudely interrupted. You should apologize.

The striped arm clasped Yedezh's torso and shoulders more securely. He sensed the zebra breathing over his nape.

-- I'm sorry, sir, he said to Lorris.

The antelope's mocking smile shone through the dimly lit room.

-- How could I stay mad with such a polite stud?

They fell silent. Lorris walked to Yedezh, and touched his ears and mane. While he got petted, Nyman's hand returned to the base of his dick, and massaged it. It overwhelmed him. He felt completely lost in this humiliation, this hurricane of his senses, telling him that he was much too vulnerable while also bombarding him with unwanted pleasure. Stuck between these two, he was absolutely confused until Nyman helped anchor him by speaking.

-- I think you should offer me another gift, before we negotiate a treaty that will be hugely favorable to me. I want something now, because I don't trust your promises.

Yedezh wondered.

-- What sh-should I give, master?

His voice had wavered, because Nyman had returned to the tip of his cock, and had squeezed it in his hand while he spoke. He felt defeated that his arousal was so obvious. Ripples of pleasure ran from his tamed dick and gritted his teeth. To his surprise, neither Nyman nor Lorris gave him a hard time about it. The servant simply moved his soft hand to his face. Yedezh had to shut his eyes again as the sides of his head and muzzle were fingered with gentle insistence. So was his snout. He endured it. Nyman intervened.

-- You wear obedience well. We fully appreciate what a personal thing this is to share. I want to ask you, and I want you to be honest. Have you ever bent for another male before?

-- No.

There was a short pause while Yedezh caught himself, and cursed his own feebleness inwardly.

"No, master."

-- I'm not surprised. This is considered shameful, and sometimes unpleasant. It represents a form of submission in both of our cultures. Males who engage in this do it secretly, and only for those that they trust. It is certainly far beneath a king under normal circumstances, but these aren't normal circumstances, are they? I must admit that I find the prospect of sinking my length between the broadened buttocks of the king of Berogh to be considerably enticing. It would be very sweet if you were willing to offer something like this for me. I feel that it would be appropriate considering what you attempted to do. If you trust me with this, I may become inclined to trust you in return. Leave him, Lorris. Let him think.

The antelope stepped away. Nyman also ceased rubbing his rod, but he kept it in hand, possessive. Yedezh understood very well what the zebra king wanted. With his back, he sensed Nyman's immense arousal through his pants. He would have to whore himself to keep his status and kingdom. It was terrible, and he had to fight himself over the notion. The blond stallion actually wondered if he had a choice. He wondered in what world it would be reasonable to give up everything -- including his life -- to avoid getting sodomized. He already was under Massidian control, and he'd just given the king ample reasons to detain him, lock him up, and use him however he wished. He couldn't refuse, but it was truly disturbing to ask himself if his reasoning would have been different if Nyman's hand hadn't been resting over his erection while he considered his answer, because a tiny part of him wished he'd resume handling his sex.

-- Okay, he mumbled.

-- Say again?

He enunciated.

-- Okay, I will bend in this way for you, master.

Yedezh pictured Nyman's pleased grin. The hand resumed stroking his length, and he held back a meek moan.

-- Very good! It is settled, then. You will stay here as my guest for a few more days, so that I have sufficient time with you. You will be prepared, I will ejaculate up your butt a few times, when I feel like it, and then, if you've been behaving to my satisfaction, we will strike a deal which will be highly favorable to me. After this, you will be able to return home with Massidian military support, and enforce your legitimate claim over the throne of Berogh, for you_are_ the rightful king of your country, and I don't like your cousin at all. He sounds like a colossal prick.

Prepared? A few times? Yedezh did worry about those words, but he was also distracted by the end of the declaration, which filled him with hope, as well as the grip on his dick. He couldn't bring himself to risk these gains by arguing anything.

-- Yes, master.

The hand job became more vigorous. Nyman used the hardened tips of his fingers to pinch the engorged head of Yedezh's cock, and he rubbed harshly. The chafing hurt, but it also provoked shocking ecstasy against the hard flesh.

"Ah!"

The yelp had escaped the horse king. Infuriated, he lowered his snout in burning indignity, unsure if he was more angered at Nyman's uninvited fondling or at his own vocal reaction. Lorris -- this hateful lackey -- dove in and forced Yedezh's defeated expression up into the light with a push under his chin.

-- He knows what he deserves, commented the servant. He wants it rough. Don't you, stud? You're proud and tough. You don't need to be pampered. You need the discipline.

Before he could even begin to form a thought concerning a response, Yedezh was brutally pulled low by the neck. Lorris tore him from Nyman's hold, and he fell on all fours again. The antelope stared him down with soft, merciless eyes.

"Admit it. Say it now!"

Lorris seized the blond left ear, and twisted it. Yedezh winced in pain before the demanding servant.

-- I want it rough! I need the discipline! he blurted.

His ear was released, and Lorris immediately went back to his appeasing stroking of his neck and mane. He giggled.

-- Yes, you do.

On this, the lowly servant firmly slapped him in the face. Yedezh contorted in fury. He began to open his mouth, but the other side of his face was struck by the backhand. He jerked his head away as much as his submissive stance permitted, and shook his head.

-- How dare you, you filthy-

He was slapped a third time, even more hurtfully. The blow echoed and made his eyes water.

-- Shut up, stud, commanded the antelope.

Nyman moved his weight behind him, releasing his cock. Yedezh felt the zebra leaning heavily onto his lower back, with one hand. The other clutched into his mane, and pulled him back into place, so he'd face Lorris and wouldn't move.

-- You just asked for discipline, pointed out the Massidian ruler. Thank him.

The horse was silent for a time. He simply looked at Lorris. His lower lip trembled. He was a king. He was a king!

-- Thank you, sir, he miserably produced.

Nyman released him, and returned to his crouch behind him. The zebra cupped his round bum with one hand, placed the other around the base of his left thigh, and used it to press the crack of Yedezh's ass against the swelling under his waist. Lorris condescendingly patted the top of his head, gripping under his chin.

-- Much better, stud. Wasn't that better, my liege?

-- It certainly was. He remains in dire need of a rigorous spanking, but we can take care of that later. It's too early in the night to awaken one of the slave handlers. Besides, I might want to assemble the court, first. It would benefit many of them to witness how low even the noblest bloodlines can be brought by a bit of punishment. The others should simply be amused. It would be a rare display to watch a Beroghan king squirm and beg, naked under the paddle or the lash.

Yedezh could visualize the described scene with plentiful detail. He'd often witnessed servants or soldiers getting lashes. It wasn't a rare occurrence. He didn't relish this image of himself bound in their place. He turned his head to the side, as much as Lorris' hold allowed, pleading modestly with Nyman.

-- Please, master, that won't be necessary. I'll conduct myself humbly, and I'll accept my punishments, from now on. I'll be respectful to Sir Lorris.

-- Good, said Nyman, because Lorris will be in charge of you during your stay. As for your request to be spared the spanking, I'll consider it.

Nyman brought his fingers to Yedezh's stiff cock one last time, and tickled its tip. The zebra arose and walked away. When his sex was abandoned, Yedezh couldn't ignore a twinge of regret. His erection pulsed uselessly a few times, but overall, he estimated that being made to ejaculate before Nyman and his servant would've been way worse.

"In the meantime, you'll follow him and he'll set up sleeping arrangements for you. I suggest you get as much rest as you can before sunrise. The process of your preparation will begin in the morning."

The stallion was astonished.

-- So, there won't be... anything tonight?

The zebra scoffed at the absurd proposition.

-- No, said Nyman. You're here for my satisfaction, and you're barely presentable as you are. That's not the way I want you. Not remotely. I have more refined tastes than this. Now, go with Lorris.

The servant hoofed back a few steps, waving his hand toward his chest. Behind, Nyman went around the room, unhurriedly extinguishing the candles one after the other. Yedezh found himself worried about being left in the antelope's care. In the twilight of the room, his twisted horns and shadowy face gave the horse serious chills. Lorris leered.

-- Come along, stud.

Lorris turned his back and left by the door, leaving it open for Yedezh. Knowing that failure to follow would result in unpleasantness, the horse king pushed himself up, and quickly caught up with a last look to his abandoned clothes.

The nightly castle corridors were grounds to no encounter, luckily. From the moment he left the relative warmth of Nyman's chamber, Yedezh shivered both from the cold, and from the terrifying prospect of being witnessed like this, stripped and closely tagging along the Massidian king's servant like... well, like a new slave indeed. The cool air helped his erection resorb quickly. Still, he turned frantically and glanced at the closed doors they went by as if they threatened to jump at his throat. He scrutinized every somber corner and every far end of the hallways in a paranoid impression of being observed from everywhere. There was no one, however. The castle slept. Soon, Yedezh recognized the path they were treading, because they'd taken it in reverse when he'd arrived with the Massidian great lords. He clopped a bit faster until he was right behind Lorris, and bowed forward to whisper in his pointy white ear.

-- Are we headed to the throne room?

The antelope kept walking, rudely ignoring the monarch. A renewed wave of hot anger flushed to his head. Even without King Nyman in the room, this simple servant's defiance was boundless! Yedezh knew that he couldn't do a thing about it, there and then, and that was undoubtedly the worst part of it. Back home, he'd have that servant flogged and branded in public for such disrespectful attitude. It sickened him to have to kowtow to this... Lorris, but he did. He breathed deep, and tried to forget that he was naked.

"Are we headed to the throne room,sir?"

Lorris sighed, and mocked him.

-- Of course not. If I made you sleep in the throne room, the court would see you in the morning. Word would spread fast. If we are to be allies, then it wouldn't be very nice of us to undermine your reputation like this. Don't you think it would weaken your position if it was known, how easy it is to break you into a cute slut? Don't you think it might worry your vassals to learn that you strip, kneel and spread your cheeks on command for other kings? They might doubt your ability to defend their interests.

Sleeping in the throne room? What the hell was that about? That wasn't what Yedezh suggested at all. Why would Lorris assume that was what he meant? How could one sleep in a throne room? There wasn't even a bed!

-- I didn't-

-- Shut up, stud.

-- I'm the king of Berogh, you insect! I may have to put up with your master, for the sake of our alliance, but you're a simple servant, and you will treat me as is appropriate!

They reached the throne room. They crossed it, and Lorris lead the way silently through a discreet side door, obviously meant for service. Yedezh had time to regret his irritated outburst. He wished the antelope wasn't so discourteous, but he knew he wasn't in control of this situation. He feared he'd just made it much worse, and instantly imagined himself silently and wisely accepting the offense. That would've been the smart thing to do.

-- You're right, milord. I apologize deeply. I got carried away. It's the emotions of the attempted coup, you see? I got a little scared, there.

The servant sounded blank. The response was ironic, but not nearly as aggressive as Yedezh expected. He seized the opportunity to walk back on his words, a little.

-- No, no. It's alright. I shouldn't have said that. I'm aware that you're in charge, here. I'll do as you say... Simply, please don't talk to me that way, sir.

Lorris came to a stop, turned, and beamed, but there was no warmth in his sad-looking eyes.

-- Of course, milord! I understand completely. Now that we've been honest with each other, we can rebuild a much healthier, respectful relationship. Don't we feel better?

Lorris resumed walking. Yedezh's shoulders dropped, and he tailed the servant through a few shorter corridors that weren't quite as clean, well-lit and nobly decorated with paintings and colorful banners as the rest of the castle. They went under a tall double door, and Yedezh looked around. The large room was tidy, with armies of orderly pots and pans classified by size occupying lengthy counters. There were multiple large water basins, some for cleaning dishes, others were held over large pits by metallic frames for cooking. One such pit was for spit roasting, but it was obviously not used often. Relatively fresh-looking bundles of root vegetables hung from hooks, and bags of salt, spices and other dry goods lingered in corners. This was the castle kitchen.

"Here we are, milord! This seems fully appropriate, as I can assure you that no Massidian lord will set hoof in here."

Yedezh didn't understand. They stood in the middle of the kitchen. Lorris was pointing at the floor.

-- There's nothing here, sir.

-- No, there is not, happily confirmed the antelope. And yet this little spot of nothing is all yours.

The horse king looked at the cold stony floor, and understood with a sinking sentiment.

-- I, I have to sleep on the floor?

-- Not at all, milord! You may remain fully awake if you so desire, or you may leave the castle and return, bare ass, to your country at any time. You are King Yedezh of Berogh! It wouldn't even occur to me to attempt to impose anything to you. By all means, try our accommodations before you decide one way of the other! You_are_ an honored guest.

Yedezh didn't move.

"Go ahead, please," slowly articulated Lorris without a trace of amusement left in his voice.

It was too unimaginable to be real. He couldn't truly be expected to sleep there, in the middle of this open room, where anyone might walk in and watch him sleep.

"You should probably hurry and get as much rest as you can. Tomorrow will be an exhausting day, for you, and the morning kitchen staff will come in, in a few hours. Don't worry; I'll put up a sign telling them to ignore you."

Yedezh stared at the spot at Lorris' hooves. He stared at the wide room and its many doors. He couldn't.

-- Please, no. Everyone will see me.

The servant squinted meanly.

-- Is something wrong, milord? Is there anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable? More_appropriate_?

Yedezh knew, then, that he wouldn't escape it. He lowered his head in painful docility.

-- At least... can I have a blanket, sir?

Lorris grinned.

-- Can you?

A pause.

"But, certainly! I'll fetch one for you right away."

Lorris stood immobile.

"Oh, no! How appalling of us! I must apologize again a thousand times! I've just checked the reserve, and we don't have a single unused blanket left in the castle. It's true this is an exceptionally cold night. Luckily, the kitchen will warm up quickly when the staff gets to work. I'll ask for something hot for breakfast, so they'll have to start a fire."

Yedezh tried, he really tried to lower himself to his knees, and then down to his side, but it was as if his muscles refused. He gazed at Lorris, and was outright amazed to hear himself try pleading again, despite his certitude that it wouldn't help. He'd never realized how easy and natural it could be to beg, in certain circumstances.

-- Come on... you won't make me do this, will you? Please, sir, surely there is some other arrangement we can come to.

Lorris raised his hand to his chin, and wiggled his fingers, imitating deep thought.

-- Well, I suppose I could have you on the floor of my own room, sleeping by my bed, but that would be a bother. Sleeping is very intimate, you know? It would embarrass me to sense your presence there, and it would be unbecoming for you. I'm an insect compared to you! So that's not very tempting at all.

Lorris adopted a cruel air, and crossed his arms.

"Tell you what, milord. If you flatten yourself before me, right now, and lick my hooves of your own free will, I'll know that you don't mind my lowly status after all, and I'll consider it."

Yedezh had never felt so trapped. It was ridiculous to even be considering any of those two options. Yet, he couldn't help but view sleeping by Lorris' bed, in a warm private room, as a much less upsetting scenario. However, he had to... Ugh. He didn't even want to formulate it in his mind, and much less imagine doing it. But if... if he did do it, it might please the servant, and get him off his damned back! All he had to do was to lie down, and lick his hooves. It would take thirty seconds, and then he could forget about it, couldn't he? The servant would remember it, however. Knowing how Lorris would probably spend the rest of his life boasting smugly about that time he'd turned King Yedezh of Berogh into his personal bitch, making him throw himself at his mercy, stripped and licking his hooves, that seemed to be the worst part by a lot.

It still seemed like the worst part while Yedezh slowly descended to one knee, and to both knees, and when he leaned forward to lie onto his belly, his hot flesh directly against the cold stone. He saw Lorris' smirk, towering above.

"Do it, milord."

The horse placed his hands around and behind the hooves. His face neared them. He opened his mouth, and against all probability, against every desire he had, he gave a short lick. He tasted some acrid dust against his tongue, and its terribly unpleasant powdered mineral texture.

"You can do better."

Yedezh mustered his resolve, extended his tongue, and licked lengthily against the side of the rough, cloven hoof. He tried to spit, but the film of dust was too thin for him to easily get it off his tongue. He breathed heavily. Adrenaline had shot into his blood. His body reacted as if he was in danger. He begged Lorris with his eyes.

"Hooves. That's plural, milord. A deal is a deal."

The wet hoof moved and landed gently and dominatingly over Yedezh's back while he attended the second part of his task. He tongued the other hoof once, with a strong, lengthy motion which increased the unpleasantness in his mouth. It was over. He'd obeyed that servant's mortifying command.

-- Am I done, sir? he asked wretchedly.

-- Yes. It was the saddest display I've ever seen. I'm positive that even insects don't grovel that pathetically when they get caught in some spider's web. And I'm merely a servant. I'm not the spider, am I? You did fulfill your part of the deal, though, and so will I.

Lorris stepped away. He jerked his head to the side with a deceitful expression.

"Hmmm," he produced, in a transparent travesty of a moment of careful deliberation. "I've considered it, but you didn't seem to enjoy being under me, and I wouldn't want to impose myself to you, milord, so the answer is still no. You'll stay here. Thanks for cleaning my hooves with your tongue, though."

Yedezh lay in dazed, defeated silence, abandoned in the middle of the cold kitchen, as Lorris simply walked away.

"Good night, King Yedezh!"

It was not a good night.

The hard floor absorbed his warmth. He shivered endlessly, and kept turning to peek into the darkness, expecting people to stumble upon him at any time. Whenever he managed to rest, it was in brief bouts of a few minutes at most, and then the cold woke him up, or the discomfort. When the kitchen staff came in, hesitantly at first, surprised by the written signs warning them that there was a king being housed in their workspace, and that they were not to interact with him, Yedezh got paralyzed. Any movement appeared to him like it would draw more attention, and provoke increased subdued whispers and confused chuckles. Despite the cold, the weakened horse king festered in feverish rage at the terribly unfair treatment, genuinely doubting that Nyman approved it, or was even aware.

One of the pits for boiling water was soon filled with lumber and lit, to make oatmeal, and as Lorris had announced, it made a noticeable difference. Many windows and a wide roof opening were unblocked, to ventilate the room, and the already warm wind of the savanna morning helped as well. This was a hot country, and lying directly on the chilly stone had caused most of the problem.

About five hours after he'd left, Lorris reappeared. He held a gray blanket. The servant knelt over Yedezh and wrapped it lovingly around horse's naked flesh.

"Here, milord. This one's mine, but I'm up, now, so I don't need it anymore."

Yedezh knew well that there was no blanket shortage. The soft fabric was still lukewarm, and did, in fact, bear Lorris' faint scent, but he didn't care. He clung to it, enveloped himself more tightly, and instantly felt less exposed, warmer, and better in every imaginable way.

"I have orders to begin your preparation now, but it can wait a few hours. It won't take so long if you behave. So, how will you behave, milord? Like a pompous little king, or like a compliant stud?"

Yedezh fought to unclench his teeth, but he spoke evenly.

-- Compliant stud.

Lorris furrowed his mane, and the king blushed in shame.

-- Smart choice, stud. Get some rest. Then, you may have a hot bowl of tea for breakfast. After that, we'll see about ensuring your body is purged and clean, and your attitude is properly adjusted for tonight.

Very little of this had been reassuring to hear, but Yedezh was too exhausted to anticipate what this insane antelope meant. It turned out surprisingly effortless to find rest, even in the middle of the busy kitchen, since he wasn't freezing and naked anymore.

He slept.

Yedezh carried his bowl of tea close to his chest like a precious treasure, and he'd drained it by the time Lorris led him through the castle to a bathing room. More servants waited for them in there, but they seemed like the ordinary, non-terrifying kind of servants.

Lorris made him abandon the blanket, and he was given a decoction of herbs he didn't recognize, as well as multiple cups of water to drink. As it turned out, getting 'purged' meant something unmentionably unseemly. The process was repeated twice more over several hours until he was -- indeed -- thoroughly cleaned inside. To ensure it, the servants placed and held him on his back over a bench, with his legs spread, and a knot of soapy strips of cloth at the end of a stick was pushed repeatedly between his buttocks while Lorris silently supervised and approved, explaining that purity would make him much more pleasant to penetrate. When he thought it impossible to be humiliated further, Yedezh was handed an extremely sharp blade and a bucket of hot water. The servants giggled at his face when Lorris clarified that he had to shave the milky-white fluff around his genital area and his butt, and that if he refused, they'd do it for him. Lorris didn't even bother removing the servants from the room while Yedezh shaved his sex like he knew some male whores did. The antelope argued that they'd still need to wash him after he was done, as well as brush and oil him. Lorris was unsatisfied with his job, however. The antelope took the razor. After sternly recommending for Yedezh to remain perfectly immobile, he quickly and expertly pressed the blade hard against Yedezh's most personal and fragile areas, and did the finish himself. It freaked the hell out of the horse, but he wasn't cut, and the blade was taken away. Yedezh was bathed by the many servants, and carefully dried while his mane was brushed with extreme precision. His tail was elegantly braided at the base so that it would stand raised. As they had done at noon, the servants took a break when it was time to sup, but instead of heading out to eat with them, Lorris stayed behind, this time. He offered the horse king some water.

-- No thanks, he said moodily. I've had enough of liquids.

-- I understand.

Lorris walked around the sadly curved blond shape, sitting patiently on his bench. He rubbed into his hands some oil from a vat waiting under the bench, and placed them onto the droopy shoulders. Yedezh tensed up. The hands balled into fists, grabbing the flesh harshly, and then releasing, moving, and kneading again. It was nearly painful... but not quite. No.

"You did very good, today, King Yedezh. You're not quite done, true, but my part will soon be accomplished, and your complete cooperation has been duly noted."

The massage continued. Yedezh had no idea anything could feel that way. With every firm touch, more tension evaporated from his shoulders, and this serenity seemed to slowly spread further and further. His head dropped forward, and he sighed loudly. The oil had a faint aroma of olives, which wasn't unpleasant in the least.

"You've shown real generous efforts for me, even though you must be tired, hungry, and possibly quite angry with me. I honestly doubt that you're going to do anything to mess this up, now, so I think that you deserve good things to happen to you. I hope you will become our ally, and you are sadly mistaken if you believe that I won't share my impressions with my liege."

The strong fingers created persistent electrical tingles of pleasure. It was heavenly. Yedezh wondered how ordinary flesh being touched could elicit such an intense response. He also wondered about Lorris. Why was he so unexpectedly kind? Was it a new trick? The skilled hands left his shoulders and neck, rubbed together in oil again, and returned.

"Give me your arm, please."

Yedezh warily lifted his arm for the servant. Lorris took it gently, and began to squeeze and stroke. He was careful not to tickle his armpit, using clear, vigorous caresses. Yedezh's state of relaxation continued to increase. He couldn't possibly wish for this to cease.

"You must still please King Nyman, of course. He will make the final decision about your request. You should display full obedience, humility and enthusiasm while satisfying any desire he may have. He will want to see that you understand this is a tribute from you to him; that it is for his benefit alone. His time with you will be a very bad moment to argue or plead anything, even very politely or submissively. I would also advise you not to speak unless spoken to, and a response is clearly required. Don't show outrage, but don't be more pathetic than you need to be either. Comply out of respect for his anger, not out of fear. It'll impress him more. Hopefully, his anger will subside. If it doesn't, well... there's no need to dwell on that."

Lorris said no more. When the other servants returned, he let them take over. Yedezh's entire body was oiled, and Lorris was as callous and demanding as before. He called him 'stud' and led him around with impatient pushes to his back, and degrading smacks to his offered rump.

They stopped before the door to the king's chamber. Yedezh was grabbed surprisingly roughly by the smaller antelope, who passed an arm around his neck and forced him to bend. Every second, the warrior king thought about how he could snap Lorris in two without breaking a sweat, and yet he remained bowed into the headlock. Even through the servant's clothes, the body was soft and warm against Yedezh's face. Lorris fondled his slick side, and then his rear. His fingers slid between his cheeks, in the hot, slippery crack, and he groped acquisitively.

"You're a spiritless stud, here to provide sexual gratification to your master, correct?"

Lorris tightened his hold around his neck.

-- Yes, sir, Yedezh grunted.

The fingers pushed against his tailhole, hard. Yedezh squinted as his body reacted to this intimate invasion.

-- He will break you and you will let him ride you because that's what you deserve, right?

-- Yes...

-- Say it.

Lorris left his ass and grabbed his balls. Yedezh moaned, hurrying his response.

-- Yes, I deserve to be broken and ridden!

Lorris didn't relent. He pumped the heavy orbs repeatedly, and spoke fast, leaving Yedezh no time to think about anything. The horse's body twisted, but Lorris held him.

-- Say it. You want to be taught your place by a real male.

-- I want to be taught my place by a real male!

-- Keep going. What else?

Yedezh was lost. His malehood was squeezed again, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

-- I want to please King Nyman!

The hand pumped again.

-- What else?

-- I want to be fucked like a bitch!

The hand moved up to his hardening cock, and hooved fingertips dug into it. Lorris waited.

"I want my ass to be reamed! I want to take Nyman's seed! I want to be made his! Isn't that enough?"

-- Yes.

Lorris released Yedezh's neck and patted his shoulder blades encouragingly. His other hand was still stroking his sex. When it was set free, it didn't fall down, but remained standing, and kept growing. Yedezh stared at it with despair, and looked elsewhere.

"Now, you can walk in there with a nice, visible erection. You can thank me later."

Yedezh fumed, but he said nothing. Somehow, this seemed way worse, and he wondered if he would manage to make it deflate before...

Naturally, Lorris knocked on the door. Yedezh heard the zebra king's voice from inside.

-- Come in.

He hesitated.

-- Well, stud? said Lorris. Go on, and obey. You'll get what you deserve, in the end, you'll see.

Yedezh sighed. He had a distinct impression of walking into a trap, or a cage, or some kind of visible threat that he had to throw himself into. He focused. This was his escape; the only way to evade his wicked cousin's grasp, but he couldn't shake the worry that Nyman might have no real intention to help. Perhaps he was simply getting baited in a cruel game of demeaning submission in vengeance for the coup. Yedezh took a moment to ask himself if, with the roles reversed, he would help Nyman, and found it unlikely. He would hate him as much he hated his cousin, who actually_was_ attempting to steal his throne! In this moment, Yedezh was utterly demoralized. He no longer had any doubt about it: no, Nyman had no intention to help him gain a situation in which he would have power over Massidia. It was impossible. He wouldn't trust him, but most importantly, he wouldn't forgive him.

"What are you doing? You're taking way too long!" warned Lorris. "Go in!"

He heard steps on the other side, and the door opened by itself. King Nyman stood holding the door, dressed in a simple light shirt, deep burgundy in color. He also wore his new royal band, as usual. He raised an eyebrow.

-- I said to come in. Did you not hear me?

-- Oh, we heard, confirmed Lorris. But I think out friend is experiencing a little case of... anticipation. It's too bad. He was doing so well thus far!

Nyman noticed and smiled at the stallion's erection.

-- I see.

He detailed Yedezh in silence. He nudged his hip to turn him to the side. Yedezh sensed his oiled back and raised tail examined. He'd never felt so much like an object.

"He looks perfect, exactly the way he should. Amazing work, Lorris."

Lorris bowed.

-- Thank you, my liege. I don't know about his attitude. He was great until just now. I'm not sure what happened. He simply froze.

Yedezh lowered his head. He fixated on the floor.

-- You're not really going to help me, are you? There won't be any deal. There won't be an alliance between us.

Lorris loudly slapped his hand over his own eyes and forehead, and shook his head in disapprobation. Nyman remained stone-faced.

-- Of course not. Why would I ever do that?

-- I don't know, admitted the horse. I believed it, for a while.

Nyman stepped out of the way.

-- Are you coming in?

Yedezh wondered. What else could he do? Why not terminate this perfect humiliation, indeed, since he was so foolish? There was nothing to gain or lose.

-- Would you really have negotiated with me if I hadn't tried to force your hand?

Nyman leaned forward, to let Yedezh appreciate how gravely serious he was.

-- Yes.

For reasons beyond his understanding, Yedezh walked his erection and himself into the room. He heard Nyman thank and dismiss his servant, and the door closed. Nyman went to the single source of light in the dark room, took the lamp, and handed it over.

"Light the candles."

Yedezh obeyed. He strained to locate the candles, in the dark, but remembered more or less where they were. He went around the room and lit them all, and at no point did he cease to question why he was still doing Nyman's bidding. Maybe it was merely because he was hungry, naked, shaved and oiled, and felt completely subjugated. He didn't doubt that Nyman would let him leave. It would be embarrassing, sure, but he'd find some clothes, somehow. He had no armed escort, because he'd entered Massidia accompanied by Lord Donuem, afraid of his cousin's spies among his own vassals and soldiers, but he was a warrior, and he'd make it home. That, however, wouldn't do him any long-term good. He wondered if, perhaps, it wouldn't be best to beg Nyman to simply keep him. It was a crazy idea. He knew he wouldn't do it, but it did enter his mind. He realized he'd finished his chore.

-- I don't know what to do, he stated.

Nyman shrugged in the twilight. He was so calm.

-- Obey me, then. Place the lamp down on that table.

Yedezh put the object in the designated area, and joined Nyman. They stood close. Nyman was tall and strong, Yedezh thought. For some reason, he'd always believed that he himself was a bit taller and stronger than the Massidian, but he could see, then, that it was not the case. They were exactly the same.

"You are truly magnificent, my friend. You'd make an astonishing slave. You wear docility just as well as that circlet of yours."

Nyman took the steel circlet, and examined it. The servants had polished it as well.

"Amazing craftsmanship."

The zebra held it in the air for a few seconds, and then he lowered it, and hung it on Yedezh's rigid dick. He laughed.

"Fitting. Stay that way, for me, so that I may bask in your kingly splendor."

Yedezh stood. The circlet remained in place. Nyman watched.

"True art. It's good, seeing you like this. Very good. Almost good enough, but not quite. That's still not the way I want you."

Nyman took the circlet, licked it playfully, and threw it onto his bed. He poked the tip of Yedezh's hard, shaved penis, and then waved his finger to tickle it. Even this light touch created an intense sexual burn in his sensitive cock that the horse would've loved to hate, but he didn't. He'd been naked all day, and had been handled and touched in all manners of ways, and he could see then that it had primed his body. He wished for more. He needed more. Or he needed for it to stop completely. He wasn't totally certain which one he craved the most, but the occasional teasing was becoming torturous.

"Come with me."

Nyman let his hand smoothly slip from his cock, causing more quiet thunder to explode in Yedezh's flesh and mind, and he impulsively followed it. Gosh, did he ever feel tamed and meek. He tailed the Massidian monarch closely. The zebra reached a low table, with a big drawer underneath. He turned to face Yedezh, snapped his fingers, and pointed to the floor.

"Sit."

The stallion knew he would sit, like a dumb animal at his master's heels. He tried to work out the reason. Perhaps, in the end, it was simply because he was lost, and Nyman told him what to do. In a bizarre and bitter way, it reassured him to receive the orders and to carry them out.

He sat on the floor, for Nyman, his legs folded to the side. The zebra approved.

"Yes. That's it. That's your place. Doesn't it feel safe?"

Yedezh failed to bring himself to reply. There was no need, anyway. Nyman clearly knew the answer, and he expected none, so he turned around, pulled the drawer open, and rumbled inside. Heavy metal clanged.

"You figured it all out, right? You're so smart. I was leading you on to torment you. All I wanted was to lure you into obedience, to push my length into your tight hole as an ultimate act of revenge. And yet, you're here, docile, for me."

Nyman pulled free a lengthy, hinged piece of black metal with an unlocked shackle at the open end. He showed it to Yedezh, presenting it with both hands. When it was closed, it formed an iron collar linked to two smaller cuffs to the side. A yoke.

"And you'll wear this, as well."

Nyman allowed no interlude. He quickly placed one half of the open yoke against the back of the blond neck.

"Put your wrists in their place."

Yedezh squirmed, pleading mutely with a sorry look.

"Don't give me that. Do it. That's the way I want you. I'll take you like a slave, bound and helpless. Don't worry. You'll like it well enough."

Nyman's eyes went down briefly to his stud's raging erection.

"Hurry up, and I'll tell you why you did it as a reward."

Breathing deep for courage, Yedezh complied. He held his hands up, and watched himself get locked up. The yoke was cold and heavy. He tried to move his arms, and couldn't. He felt completely offered with his hands up.

"Good."

Nyman flipped around again, and took another, much smaller object with leather straps.

"I also want you properly silenced."

The bit gag was placed against Yedezh's mouth. The Beroghan shook his head, but Nyman walked around him, and pulled hard from behind until the metal bar hurt his teeth and he opened up to let it slide in. It was fastened behind his head.

"No, no. There won't be any arguing or begging. Only obedience. One more thing."

Yedezh heard a cloth being pulled from a pocket, and his world went dark as the blindfold was tied around his head.

"Here. All done, my friend. You're mine, now. That's the way I wanted you."

Nyman pulled onto one of the bars for the yoke, and the restrained stallion complied with the movement swiftly.

-- Hmngf.

-- Stand for me, so I that I may contemplate my new property.

It wasn't too long that Nyman couldn't hold back, and cackled, examining poor Yedezh in iron, gagged, and blinded, standing by nude and oiled like a fool -- an athletic, elegant, dreadfully attractive fool.

"Oh, it's everything I imagined and more. You should see yourself! And this, this is an exquisite touch."

Yedezh's stout shaft was seized, and Nyman gave it a few loving strokes.

-- Hnmgh!

-- Yes, I know you like it. I'll give you a bit more later. Needless to say, I'll have to teach you to walk in step, but that can wait. First, I'll tell you why you accepted all of this.

Nyman stretched his arms up and his back, in a yawn of satisfaction. He cracked the joints of his fingers.

"It's because you're tremendously dumb."

Yedezh squeaked unhappily. It was too late, however. There was no longer any possibility of escape, or fighting back. Nyman simply caught him by one arm, and led him in a direction.

"You purebred idiot, you total fool. You're as thick as a plank; as thick as my castle's walls. You're as thick as thick gets. You walk in here and start by calling me a liar. Fantastic, I love that. Already you demonstrate how little you trust me, so why would I trust you? On the other hand, you're here with me."

They reached another piece of furniture. Yedezh bumped into it, and assumed it was another table when he was forcefully bent over it. Nyman bent as well, leaning against his offered rump, over his back, and spoke into his ear. The zebra caressed his sides, feeling his ribs with his fingers.

"It was unfair of you to accuse me of deceiving you. Out of the two of us, I'm not the one who proved disloyal. I've been testing you. I wanted to know if you could play by my rules, even at cost to yourself, in exchange for a promise of the very thing you want. Then, you displayed your lack of faith, and I confirmed your suspicions. If you'd decided to leave, then, I would've let you walk away to your doom, but you didn't. You stayed."

Yedezh was kept down on the table. Simply that. He was kept down and Nyman talked. It was comforting to listen, even with Nyman's significant presence behind him, between his legs, controlling him, and soon, stroking him again. He trembled. He wanted more, but Nyman was careful. It was insanely good though, or horrible, in a way. His cock twitched persistently. He whimpered in supplication, but the Massidian spanked his right buttock once to remind him of his place, so he endured in silence.

"You said it yourself. You don't know what to do. You're in a bad place, my friend, and I think you decided to stay even though you imagined there would be no alliance because you still hoped, despite everything, that I might help. That I might provide guidance. So let me do just that."

Nyman moved his arm, and displaced some objects on the table. Suddenly, Yedezh felt a quill placed in his right hand. A large piece of parchment was unfolded, and one of its corners was slipped under his hand. He sensed the texture of it. It was real parchment, not cheap paper. It was meant to last, for important documents... like treaties. His erection was left throbbing by itself during that time, but afterward, Nyman attended it again, rubbing its tip between fingers and thumb. The helpless stallion was so wholly grateful he could've cried.

"Here is my counsel. The smartest thing you can do, right now, is to accept to be mine. Under you lies a treaty, the terms of which I dictated. It will grant you the alliance that you need. The terms are harsh, because you need the alliance, and I don't. It doesn't matter what they are. I'm not giving you a choice. Your clueless ass wouldn't be able to negotiate with me either way. To use crude language, this treaty makes you my bitch, my dancing puppet, and as such, I will allow you to rule Berogh. It is designed to look acceptable at first glance, but it will cripple your ability to do anything without my consent. I'll be holding you by the balls."

Nyman illustrated his words. He took the sack in his hand, but he didn't squeeze. He held.

"That's what the treaty will feel like, all day long, but you will survive, under my lead. You won't be alone in this anymore. We will crush your cousin, and you will be king of Berogh. You will be_my_ king of Berogh. I'll invite you here often to remind you of your place, and it'll suck. Sign it, Yedezh."

The quill touched the parchment.

"That's right. Right there."

Yedezh waited. And waited. On what? He had no idea. It certainly occurred to him that signing such a document blindly was an extremely bad move. Problem was: it was his only move. When Nyman's middle finger gently began to extend and retract, leaving his sack to tease the base of his dick, he gave up.

The quill grated, and then it didn't.

Nyman grabbed the treaty from under the stallion, releasing his captive. He held the parchment up in his hands and swirled elatedly. Yedezh, blindfolded, tied up, and bent over a table, merely heard his happy dance.

"Oh, my friend. I can't wait to see your face when I decide to show you what you just agreed to. It'll be grand!"

Nyman put the treaty away, in safety.

"To our next order of business, then. The deal was for you to stay a few days, granting me satisfaction, and you'll honor it. Have no fear. I plan to be much gentler with your rear than I was with your political interests! I have to admit that I'm unmentionably excited to be the first one to break in a proud male like you."

-- Fgmh!?

Nyman took his new stallion by the collar, brought him up, and, with one hand covetously groping his thigh, he walked him toward his bed with minimal trouble.

-- Fine, fine. First and only one...

The zebra king turned his head to the side, and mumbled:

"... Probably."

Staring at the mattress, Nyman changed his mind, and decided that the floor would be plenty for the king of Berogh. He lowered Yedezh to his knees, and curved him forward, holding his yoke so he wouldn't fall face down.

"Time to spread your cheeks, Yedezh. Just like a good slave."

Nyman hurriedly undid his belt and pants. He swept the whitish tail away, but when his massive black cock approached Yedezh's quivering buttocks and he saw his tiny anus, he immediately realized the problem.

"Damn. The oil will never be enough."

He traced his index along the crack of the offered butt, and tested the texture. He certainly had more oil somewhere. Lorris would know where, but Lorris wasn't there. He'd have to search a bit...

"Bah. I'll be even gentler. It's not like you'll complain. Do try to relax."

-- Hmmf!

Yedezh sensed the cock brush the insides of his buttocks, and then he discovered what it was like to stretch. As his asshole made way for Nyman's conquering limb, he emitted muffled whimpers in surprise. This was incomparable to the fuzzy ended little stick that he'd taken earlier. Silenced and immobilized, he finally understood just how much he was at Nyman's mercy. The zebra enjoyed every part of it too.

-- Oh, yes! Huuf. That is tight. Definitely your first time. This is going to be a wonderful finish!

The penetration occurred gradually. It was excruciatingly measured. Yedezh's vulnerable rear was invaded more and more, and he couldn't believe that Nyman wasn't completely in him yet. He felt filled in an extremely dirty, utterly intimate way, and the knowledge that he'd_agreed_ to experience those new and troubling sensations for Nyman's personal entertainment was almost too much for him to bear already.

"Come on, Yedezh!" laughed the zebra. "I've barely entered you. Stop squirming, have some dignity, and take it like a willing whore. I assure you that I'm... aooh! I'm beyond gentle."

-- Hmphmmm! Hmngngn!

-- Don't worry. Submissive slave studs can get pleasure as well. But you really have to relax.

It moved further in him! This was another male's giant cock, raking deep into his backside! Yedezh shook helplessly in outrage, within the Massidian's hold, and Nyman lowered the horse's upper body a bit more to enjoy his asshole more comfortably. Yedezh clenched powerfully, and the hurt blazed into him. He moaned in distress. Nyman instantly responded by ceasing all movements, and the pain quickly began to subside.

"Alright, stop, stop. Relax. I'm merely making you mine, so get used to it. Don't fight it. No one will know if my dick made you squeal in pleasure. Only I will know. And you, obviously. Relax, and it'll happen."

Yedezh most absolutely didn't want to squeal in pleasure. That wasn't the problem! And yet, when Nyman resumed giving his attention-starved erection what it direly needed with a solid grip, his resistance melted a little bit despite his will. By his ancestors, did he need to ejaculate! But not like this! Not on his knees and with Nyman's cock in his rectum! That'd be too much disgrace! Too fucking much!

Yedezh thrashed about briefly in his bonds and into Nyman's hold, but had little effect, except to wiggle his rump along Nyman's hard erection, pleasing it some more. The zebra huffed with amused sexual gratification.

"Oh! Ah-ha! Careful. Are you done? Let's see, then."

Yedezh's collared head and bound hands were placed directly on the stones. With his free hand, Nyman stroked his nude, muscular back. The other hand continued to hold and tease his effervescent shaft. Both touches were firm and smooth.

"That's all part of the experience. All part of my tribute. Soon, I'll have the colossal recompense of watching your tamed ass wave and wiggle while I pound it. Have no fear, I'll have satisfaction. We'll keep going until I do, but it won't take long. Teaching you to calm down and accept your place before me is merely one of my delights. I'm truly quite glad that you came back and threw yourself under my influence. You'll learn to like it, there. You'll learn a lot of things."

-- Hrrrmf...

Nyman proved patient. Despite the aggravating words, the steady combination of the soothing strokes to Yedezh's back, and the insanely arousing manipulation of his needy male parts eventually did bring the horse king into a more accepting state. Nyman's half-sunk dick remained as noticeably present between his buttocks, but Yedezh had not clenched on it for many minutes. His hole still seemed irritated. He felt a slight burn, but in truth it was more uncomfortable and alien than painful. After such a significant time having his displayed back petted without interruption, Yedezh noticed the change without delay when Nyman moved his hand to his straight mane, and played in it. It threatened to undo his calm. The fingers kneaded the flesh, and pulled on his hairs hard enough that he felt the tension, but it didn't quite cause any hurt. The bound stallion soon relaxed into that as well. The attentions to his lower parts had lately been directed to the base of his balls, and to that sensitive area between his sack and his tailhole. It was getting pinched and pressed into, and this indirect stimulation had confirmed itself to be plenty in order to keep his arousal up. It was obvious to Yedezh that Nyman knew what he was doing.

-- Good buck, affectionately whispered the zebra. See? It's not nearly so bad to be broken in by your master. Now, let's try mounting you some more. Stay nice and obedient, and it won't hurt.

Yedezh was, once more, quite startled when he discovered that a strong fistful of his mane could be used to elevate and maintain him without pulling out his pale hairs. It did, however, sting slightly when Nyman began using that grip for leverage to force more of his huge cock deeper into his dominated round rump. Refraining from clenching undoubtedly helped a lot, but this claim of 'not hurting' was pure nonsense.

As a result, poor Yedezh droned softly when his penetration resumed. The modulations of the muffled sound provided Nyman easy feedback of his stud's comfort. The zebra encouraged it with a return to rubbing Yedezh's length.

"Smart. Make yourself easier to manage. Very dutiful. Now, it's time for you take it all."

The droning violently broke into a high pitched yelp when Nyman simply shoved forward for the rest of the distance his cock had to go to be fully embedded into Yedezh.

-- Hrmrhmrhf!

The Massidian monarch puffed in ecstasy, pulled out slightly, and shoved in again with increased power.

-- Oh, yes! Yes! Huh! Take it Yedezh! Take it all like a slave!

Yedezh was merely getting his ass fucked. He was sure that Nyman wasn't even being particularly rough, but it appeared harsh to him all the same. The vigorous dick thumped into him against... something. Whatever it was, this massive intrusion struck some inside wall, and caused a reaction_into his teased shaft_. Yedezh was taken by storm, perfectly disarmed, as he soon heard himself moan in cadence. He didn't understand how such intense burning pleasure could hide in this... absolute debasement, but his dick was responding, and hard!

Nyman humped steadily, invading and retreating without pause, hesitation or apology. The pulls on Yedezh's mane became downright hurtful, but the horse didn't even try to do anything about it. His focus remained elsewhere, on his own appalling pleasure. The unyielding might of Nyman's movements, as he occupied every dark corner of Yedezh' intimacy, as he had his fill of the stallion's feebleness, was merely a background event that fed into both Yedezh's sense of crushing defeat, and -- inexplicably -- his exploding and yet still growing desire. The sensations of his sensitive ass filled and callously worked by the zebra's inflated dick evoked the dirtiest, most taboo impressions.

"Yeah! You're mine, slut! Heck, this is... beyond... Ah! Ha! Ha! Taking you is amazing, Yedezh! Yes, squeal for me. Squeal!"

That was when the warrior king of great Berogh, connected with the simple fact that, naturally, Nyman could also hear his moans. Flushing with boiling embarrassment, he tried to bury them, and succeeded for a few seconds. He was shoved into tirelessly, and he brutally realized that his spread-open kneeling stance was stressful to his legs and thighs. The thought disappeared almost as quickly, replaced, quite simply, by the overpowering experience of Nyman fucking his rump.

"I ordered you to squeal! Obey!"

Nyman squashed the engorged tip of the stallion's erection. It combined strangely with the irritated ache into his laboring anus, and Yedezh squealed. Uncontrollably, pathetically, he squealed through the gag. His cock was burning, and he felt it, unavoidable, rising like some unstoppable wave. His pleasure! It seared! It was... it was...!

In a gesture of pure spite, Nyman's hand disappeared from between his legs. No! Yedezh kept squealing, progressively more pleading and frustrated as the ever so close obsessing pleasure escaped him. It wasn't too late, though. He was incredibly close to an inconceivable climax! Gone were the matters of honor. Gone, his desire to withhold from the Massidian the satisfaction of seeing him ejaculate from being ignominiously treated like his bitch. Unstoppable earthly powers possessed him, and he shoved back. Yedezh shoved his ass back in cadence into his conqueror's vindictive engorged penis. He waved and undulated, squealing for Nyman's cock. That stimulation alone might suffice! It might suffice, it was_so_ close!

The zebra guffawed in high, elated triumph when Yedezh succumbed to the anal. He grabbed his broken stud's leg for leverage, and switched his other hand from his mane to his shoulder. He pounded him as if with a hammer. He breathed heavily between words as the start of his world-bending orgasm made him lose focus.

"Yes...! I knew...! You would...! Easy to break...! This great...! I... Aaaah."

Nyman saw tiny insects of light flying around. He pushed and ejaculated. He pushed and ejaculated again. He did again and again, filling his defeated and humiliated rival's bum with his semen. It was a perfect moment.

Yedezh moaned powerlessly as it happened. He sensed it all. Nyman finished using him in the expected way, and hot seed poured in his mistreated rump. A lot of it. It began to seep even before Nyman retracted. It trickled mercilessly along his balls, along his thighs. The cock pushed in a few more times, with lessening power. Then the hard dick pulled out, and whiteness oozed out of the stallion's tailhole in thicker streams. Yedezh had never felt so messy, soiled and, when Nyman placed a hand over his lower back, so ultimately owned. It was quiet, save for his sorry moans, and all he could think of was how he was still pent-up, aching with arousal, unsatisfied. He begged with his body, imploring Nyman to finish him as clearly as he could. He'd provided everything Nyman wanted! He'd humiliated himself to the core for his satisfaction! The zebra couldn't possibly be_this mean_, could he? He quivered his thighs, bobbed his dripping, white-splashed blond butt, humped the air with his desperate, lonely erection, but Nyman kept him in place until his last hope for sexual relief died, and he was forced to accept it.

"In time, you'll learn to find your pleasure with much less than that."

Nyman straightened up, gloating, contented, over the sweaty and shivering horse king, and dropped him to the floor. He wiped his deflating sex with Yedezh's tail, and hid it into his pants.

From behind, Yedezh heard the zebra amble quietly toward his bed. The yoke made it nigh impossible, but the captive attempted to pick himself up. As soon as he began moving a stern warning flew.

"Oh, no. No. Stay exactly the way you are. There's still something more I want from you tonight."

Nyman's bed creaked a little when he sat on it. He undressed. Yedezh heard the sounds of the folding fabrics. What in the world could Nyman still possibly want?

"I have a fantastic view of you from here. You'll stay in place so that I can lie in bed admiring this display of the great ruler of Berogh in his proper place."

Yedezh was tired. He was sexually frustrated to an epic degree. His rear was on fire. His knees hurt and his entire body was sore. He was also pretty sure that he'd just signed control of his country away. Yet, the single worst thing in that moment, for him, was knowing that, while he'd spend the night there, the sight of his open legs and spunk-splattered cheeks would entertain Nyman, someone he'd assumed to be a pushover, who led a kingdom not even a third of the size of his own. He wished he'd listened to his father, and had stayed away from Massidia. He should've gone to that weird frog kingdom, instead. He'd met its wandering prince once or twice... He sighed.

Nyman heard him. The zebra got up. He walked all around Yedezh, crouched in front of him, and removed the blindfold. He also unfastened the bit gag, which fell to the floor. The black-and-white arms gripped the sides of Yedezh's face.

"Oh, don't be so glum. You've secured an important alliance between Berogh and Massidia, which will strengthen our nations, and preserve your ability to rule independently... under a discreet but utter fealty to me, of course. You said yourself that it was a good deal when you offered a strikingly similar one to me, yesterday. So, I guess that you won, after all! May I be the first to congratulate you on your negotiating skills and political acumen! Bravo."

Staring into his new proprietor's craftily inflexible dark eyes, Yedezh wondered about something. He made up his mind to go ahead and ask. To take as little risk as possible, he placated the Massidian king to the best of his abilities.

-- Master?

Nyman looked at him curiously. He waited.

"I know it's out of my hands, but... Are you ever going to forgive me? Or will you prefer making me your bitch for the rest of my life?"

-- This is not the end, for you. In fact, I can assure you that it is only the beginning.

The zebra stood.

"Before you return home, in a few days, I'll even have a personal little gift ready for you, in return for all those nice things you offered me. It'll motivate you to come back and visit me soon."

Nyman smirked, but it was friendly, somewhat.