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Entranced Performance

Another long day came to an end and I panted, sitting behind one of the tents I had set up and took refuge from the last rays of sunlight. Really now, I deserved a break! Fanning the side of my face with my paw, I felt the metal cuffs around my wrists chafe once more.

It was a reminder of what I was now.

Gone were the days of hosting parties with sumptuous delicacies and rich alcohol from lands far away. The debt from such ventures accumulated but it never seemed like the interest would become a problem until...

"Slave!" a voice barked from the other side of the tent. "I can smell you slacking off! Get back to work!"

The steel collar around my neck grew warm and I grunted, trying to snap back with a refusal, even though I knew it was pointless. My lips moved on their own, "Yes, master!" I said cheerfully.

Brushing my burgundy gambeson, the one luxury I was able to keep for my creditor, who thought it would help sell me; and wiping some dirt off of my leather loincloth, I skipped around the tent.

Bruthal, the caravan leader of whom I belonged to, was grumbling as he banged flint and a steel knife together over a pile of wood and tinder. The gray wolf's pelt was covered in old scars and at this rate he was going to add another to his paw if he kept striking the knife carelessly against the flint like he was.

"Get the fire going, Tadhg," the wolf snorted and stood up. As I passed Bruthal, the wolf grabbed me by the base of my tail and stroked it, forcing me to shiver. My cock tingled, threatening to escape my sheath. "Don't fuck it up or I'll have to punish you."

I forcefully stopped my tail from wagging when the wolf released it. Bruthal was a very uncreative wolf and his idea of punishment consisted entirely of sodomizing his slave, a very wolven punishment for disobedience. It was a little hard to disobey with the collar demanding my consent for every command but somehow I found ways to provoke his ire.

The problem was that I found such punishments more exciting than anything. The loss of control, the feeling of strong muscles holding me down, sharp fangs poking against my neck...

"Quit daydreaming, fox, and get to work! I'm fucking freezing out here!" a shivering hyena dressed in a heavy fur coat snarled at me. Odal was a mercenary Bruthal hired who had originally come from the far south and never quite adapted to the overall cooler temperature up north. I personally found the current summer unbearably muggy but this merc was acting like it was the dead of winter.

That was one thing that I had learned about particular caravaneers. They liked to portray themselves as adventurous and rough individuals but the richest ones couldn't so much as cook themselves dinner without a camp slave doing most of the work. This meant a lot of chores for me to do every day with minimal help from my lazy masters.

They're fun lays, but what I wouldn't give to have been sold to someone holding a more comfortable position, I scraped the flint against the steel, spraying sparks across the tinder. I mean, really now, a handsome fox like me is wasted on starting fires! My paw pads are going to get horrifically calloused!

Sighing, I narrowed my eyes at a spark that had landed on the tinder and refused to die. Truthfully, I did not know a thing about starting a fire with flint and steel, but I had managed to fool them for now.

Envisioning a roaring fire, I concentrated on the spark. Pressure grew in my head and the collar felt like it was constricting around my neck until I closed my eyes and felt a rush of heat wash over me. When I opened my eyes, the campfire was ablaze.

Affirmations? Some kind of buried magical talent deep with me?

Who knows...all I cared about was it ended one of my least favorite chores quickly.

"Thank the gods!" the hyena bellowed and sat across from the fire, teeth chattering. "Slave, put those paws to good use, will you?"

The inference was clear but the collar was not smart enough to catch up on it, just only smart enough to know that he wanted something, "Whatever do you want, master?"

"Reach inside my blanket and I'll show you."

The collar guided me forward and I slipped my paw underneath his covers. Immediately I felt the hyena's cold paw pads grip my paw and guide it to his warm cock. My pads rolled over his barbed shaft, unable to put up any resistance thanks to the collar's enchantment.

Odal was by far the member of the caravan I had the least attraction for, not only in physical appearance but in his personality. I had no respect for someone who constantly complained about the cold in the height of summer, but there was something about being forced to serve someone repulsive.

Were I given a choice, I would have said no and been happy. But the collar made me say yes and somehow that made it feel more exciting. I was helpless to resist this mercenary's demands.

"Ahhhh!" the hyena suddenly moaned and I felt wet spunk shoot onto my palm. I was hoping it would have hit his stupid blanket but I wasn't that lucky.

As I removed my paw from his blanket I felt my nose curl at the smell of his semen. I knew what was coming next and between enchanted orders, I was allowed to have a moment of disgust.

"Lick it up, slave."

My frown turned into a smile and I gleefully ran my tongue along my black pads and fur, lapping up every drop of cum. The collar was merciful, its control made the taste and smell more palatable.

Satisfied, the hyena turned his head away from me and went back to desperately trying to keep warm inside his thick blanket.

A tongue suddenly darted around the rim of my tall ears and a cold, scaly arm wrapped around my shoulder.

"Good work, slave," Jalith hissed playfully.

Each of the crocodile's fingers had rings of sapphire, ruby, and topaz glimmering in the campfire's light. Jalith was a slave trader, though he currently had no stock, and the caravan had rented me to warm his bedroll most evenings on the recent trek.

I leaned my head against his bare chest, rubbing my face along the smooth scales. My nose could practically smell the reptile's consistent desires and he was starting to talk about his home and how big and lonely it was. A perfect chance to get sold to a richer and more comfortable master, no doubt.

He was also a very, very good lay. His cock was like a damned ballista when it shot out of his slit and despite living a comfortable life he was in prime physical shape. Very much my type, someone a fox could live in the lap of luxury with.

Safe in his arms from the demands of labor, I was about to drift off...

"Hello there!"

I snapped awake and Jalith stood up, pushing me aside. When I got to my own feet, Bruthal and Odal had drawn their sword and ax, snarling at a shadowy figure outside of the dimming light of the camp.

"Who goes there!?" Bruthal growled.

"Just a wandering minstrel who happened upon a group of fellow weary travelers!"

Bruthal growled deeply as the figure took a step forward. It was a coyote dressed in a purple doublet with puffy arms and green puffed trousers. A feather stuck out of a silk hat atop his head.

"The name's Benny!" the coyote took off his hat and bowed, curling his light brown tail behind him. "And if you'll let me share your fire I'd be happy to provide entertainment for the evening!"

"Ah, a mummer!" Jalith clapped his powerful hands together. "Sir Bruthal, I would ask that you let him join us!"

"Not a fan of bards myself," Bruthal grimaced and snorted.

"Ah, I hate them myself!" Benny smiled and stepped forward into the camp. "Most ridiculous creatures, you know? All singing and jokes and whatnot! Dreadfully silly!"

Suddenly the coyote broke out into a double cartwheel and landed on his haunches before me, pointing a claw in my direction.

"A slave, perchance?" Benny asked with a mock bow towards me. "He could lend me a hand as a jester of sorts, would you allow it?"

"Who said I was gonna let you stay?" Bruthal gripped his sword tight.

"Fuck, just let him," Odal let his ax fall to the dirt and returned to the fire, huddling for warmth. "Only thing he's armed with is a concealed flute."

"An excellent observation, good hyena!" Benny flourished his paw and retrieved a long, slender flute from seemingly nowhere. The short mouthpiece of it was made of wood while the rest of it was made of a silvery metal. "Now then, could you lend me your slave? I promise you, it will be a show to remember!"

Bruthal rubbed the bridge of his snout, something he was quite prone to doing when a migraine was incoming, and rolled his eyes. He waved his paw at me, "Slave, go do whatever he asks. Suck him off if he so pleases."

Without any warning the collar forced me to my knees and my tongue ran along my lips before I eagerly stared up at the coyote with my tongue panting.

"Ah," Benny cleared his throat and tugged at my sleeve for me to stand, "that won't be necessary!"

I continued to pant with my tail swishing behind me in the dirt, waiting for his cock.

"Eh, it's that fucking collar again, it only takes orders from his owners," Bruthal growled. "Tadhg, don't suck his cock, just do his stupid performance."

Finally, I was freed from the collar's curse and stood up, following the coyote.

"Come along then, eh, what was your name?"

"Tadhg de Volpini-Sforza" I replied as I followed him across the campsite.

"Ta...ayg..." Benny slowly repeated my name as best as he could and didn't even bother trying to say my title, "is that a slave name or-"

"It's my original, I was allowed to keep it along with my title," I sniffed. "The slaver thought it would make me sound more exotic."

"I can't say I've ever heard of House de Volpini-Sforza before."

"We're a small, but proud house," I raise my muzzle confidently.

All titles were to be stripped upon my enslavement, of course, but the slavers insisted that the title, which I fairly bought from a bankruptcy auction, was illegitimate and had no power to seize it. On the one hand, I considered that an insult, on the other it meant I could still call myself by that name.

The coyote suddenly leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "Are they treating you okay?"

"Hm? Ah, they work me to the bone! But it's okay, I think I'll be elsewhere sometime soon."

"Oh?"

"See that croc?" I nodded towards the very handsome slave trader. "I think he's got a thing for me and might want to buy me from the caravan and not as part of his usual resale merchandise."

"He's a slave trader then?"

"Yes and quite a rich one it seems," I smiled as the crocodile waved at me, his jeweled rings dancing in the firelight. "I think I'd be quite comfortable living off of his wealth. Incredible in bed as well."

"Living off of wealth gained from the sale of slaves?" Benny said.

I almost suspected a bit of venom there, but his smile and excited voice was enough to set me at ease.

"I figure I'm due a little luxury again, whatever the cost of that may be."

"I see," Benny twirled around to face the campfire.

A few more of the caravan members had gathered around, sitting on logs around the fire. A cask of ale was tapped from one of the alcohol merchants traveling with us, horns and wooden cups were distributed, overflowing with foamy brown ale.

"Just follow my lead, dear fox!"

Benny pressed the flute to his lips and began to blow. A gentle little song came floating out, something one would imagine playing in an idyllic country field.

I stood there staring at the coyote. Perhaps I should have mentioned I was tone-deaf and a terrible dancer. I really didn't know what his lead was supposed to entice me to do but whatever it was, I was terrible at it.

Bellowing laughter broke out from the audience and they were pointing their fingers at me. I felt my skin burn, as a slave I was quite used to humiliation, but in a more sexually charged way, not like this.

Coughing, Benny broke away from his song and patted me on the shoulder.

"Just do whatever your heart tells you to do," Benny smiled at me.

I smiled back sheepishly at him as he fiddled around with a knob on his flute. I wasn't aware flutes needed tuning but clearly I was an amateur here.

"Feel the flow and express it," the coyote nodded and waved towards the audience. "They will love you for it."

Rolling my eyes, I watched Benny press the flute to his lips once more.

As the first note left his instrument I found my left foot shooting forward. Without so much a beat, Benny began to play a fast-paced jig and my legs and arms began to stomp and wave to the tune.

Some kind of enchanted flute? I was only used to the collar's magical controls and while under normal circumstances I might be more amenable to being enthralled by it, I was not at this moment. I tried to force my limbs to remain still, my muscles ached as they resisted in vain to overcome the power. It was no use, for any moment of freedom I was able to achieve, my limbs would snap back into the dance a mere second later.

Contrary to Benny's insistence, the crowd did not love me for it. They were laughing even harder now, I felt like a clown, not even a jester with their royal privileges, just a damned clown.

Even Jalith, my handsome rich crocodile, was laughing. I could only imagine how much of a turn-off this dance was.

"This is rapidly diminishing my sex appeal, bard!" I hissed as low as I could to the coyote, whose eyes were shut as he playfully fingered his flute. "At the very least switch the song to something that won't make me look like a damned fool!"

Without missing a beat, the coyote raised his head and adjusted his fingers. The notes on his flute went low, just enough to give a bit of a suggestion to the new song. It was very much a song that would play in a tavern when the more exotic dancers came on stage.

Smiling lustfully, I stood tall in front of the crowd and looped my claw around the strings of my doublet, pulling the knot away in one quick movement. The white fur of my chest was exposed, much to the cheers of the audience.

Grinding my thigh up against the palm of my left paw, I slowly unraveled the next set of threads on my doublet.

Bruthal whistled merrily, contrary to my expectations. Odal's blanket was rippling as he clearly rubbed himself off. I'll give the hyena that much, his refractory period was brief.

The tempo increased and sped through the last threads, tearing them away and tossing my doublet to the side. The crowd cheered and I had to admit, I felt proud they loved my body so much.

Benny made a quick little comedic sliding noise on his flute and I found myself flipping my loincloth up, exposing my erect cock, its tip oozing with precum. I couldn't help but feel an intense arousal burning in my loins. I wanted to give the crowd a real show with an explosive ending.

Grabbing my cock, I stroked it to the tune of Benny's flute. I closed my eyes as Benny's song grew into a crescendo, furiously stroking the shaft of my cock and the bulbous knot swelling at the base, feeling it twitch and throb until the song reached its zenith and...

A chill washed over me and I found myself unable to orgasm, my knot having deflated in record time. I panted, clearly having overexerted myself, but still tried to stroke and stroke, hoping to reach that climax once more. My knot swelled again and a few more dribbles of precum eventually leaked out, but nothing more.

What the hell!? I've never had this problem before! Gods damn it, I'm still young!

Thankfully, my future patron was far too amused at my erotic display to notice that I had failed to orgasm. Perhaps the crocodile even thought it was part of the show. I sure as hell hoped so, he had quite the love for me cumming on his chest during our nights together.

My crotch was aching with unachieved relief. Gods, I wanted to cum so bad.

The coyote cast a smirk in my direction. He was behind this, wasn't he?

I was about to force myself to step forward and object, but Benny began to slow his tempo as he switched to another song.

My arms slowly began to wave in an arc to the tune, a more elegant tune often played to ballet troupes. Truthfully, as much as I fancied myself a fox of culture, I never cared for the ballet and had no interest in participating in such a humiliating affair.

Most distressingly, my arousal was still growing, but I found no relief once again.

"Enough!" I growled and spun around on my toes. "Stop this at once!"

"Slaves don't give orders!" Bruthal clapped, the surly wolf having finally found joy at the worst possible time for me. "Keep going!"

After my pirouette was complete, I found myself closer to the coyote and mustered all of my strength to swing a kick at him and disrupt his performance. Alas, as soon as I swept forward, I found myself leaping into the air with my loincloth flapping in the wind. I landed just before the campfire and felt my heart race the moment my legs muscles began to twitch.

With another leap, I found myself spinning sideways in the air as I was magically flung over the campfire. I felt the heat of the flames dance along my legs and only opened my eyes, gasping for relief, once I felt the dirt hit my feet.

Despite all of this, my cock was still bulging with need, jetting out from my loincloth like a monolith. Benny's flute whistled a crescendo and I found myself curtsying, using the flaps of my loincloth in lieu of a skirt.

I thought this disgrace was over, but Benny's tune started to speed up and I found myself on one foot spinning yet again. This time though, I would not stop at mere one, I was forced to spin and spin while my loincloth's flaps fluttered out from my thigh, assisted by my rock hard cock. I could hear the crowd clap to the beat of my spins.

I wanted to lie down, but most of all, I wanted to cum and go to sleep. The coyote would not let me and between the blurs of my spins, I caught him grinning mischievously behind his flute. What had I done to deserve this?

Eventually, Benny blew one final crescendo and I leapt up straight into the air and flipped backwards, landing firmly on my feet. The crowd cheered and I was forced to bow. My cock was practically screaming for relief and was downright swampy with precum.

Some of the crowd, including my aspiring master, decided to catch a quick feel of my cock. Indeed, the smooth scales of Jalith's hands would have, under normal circumstances, been enough to get me off.

However, once again, despite the flute having stopped its enchanting tune, I felt the cold feeling wash over me once more. Just for a moment, I saw black magical symbols materialize around the base of my cock, right where my knot was, before they faded away.

Finally free, I felt an unusual amount of shame for myself, and immediately grabbed my doublet and wrapped it around my chest like a towel.

"What's a matter, slave?" Odal jeered. "Feeling shy?"

"Typical fox," Bruthal grumbled. "They act lewd but the moment you make them do something in public they get all shy."

I wrapped my tail around my thigh, hoping to hide my still raging hard-on, and began to make my way to my tent. The audience began tossing tips at Benny, even Bruthal whom I had never seen the slightest hint of generosity from in the past.

I rested alone that night while the rest of the caravan had a merry time. They did not ask me to do chores nor did anyone sleep with me.

And I did not sleep very well, not with my constant on and off arousal that I still could not find relief from.

By the time I had woken up the next morning, Benny had gone his separate ways and I could not be more relieved. The coyote had humiliated me in a way that I hardly found fun, which put me at odds with my owners who loved it.

My hard-on was gone now but as I was performing chores I noticed that the slightest thing would cause it to return. My loincloth brushing a little too firmly against my sheath, washing my privates in the nearby stream, or even just sitting on a log or the wagon bed. If it chafed, it aroused.

And the constant loin teasing had invaded my brain as well. I was not just thinking of Jalith and how I might win his heart, I was all but begging Bruthal and Odal to give me a toss. I did not even realize I was lifting my tail and exposing my rear to Bruthal when we were unloading cargo at the next site until the wolf gave me a few quick grinds before telling me he was busy.

This left me very unfulfilled. At least until I got word that Jalith had paid Bruthal extra for my services in exchange for immediate servicing, skipping my early evening chores.

I took off my doublet and left the loincloth on, for he loved to see his slaves wearing such gear more than them naked, and laid down on the floor of my tent. My arousal, so easily provoked, was returning and I found myself hugging my cock with my thighs, trying to stop myself from finishing before the crocodile got here.

"Looks like someone's eager..."

Growling lustily, I admired the crocodile's thick form and felt his smooth belly scales as he lowered himself and pinned me down.

"I don't get this eager for just anyone, my lord," I whispered, leaning forward and running my tongue across the scales surrounding his slit.

Jalith reached for the jar of olive oil and stuck his fingers in. He then stuck a clawed finger up my rear and I yelped, my cock throbbing.

"Master please, hurry," I pleaded. "I've been aching since last night."

"I can tell."

Without any warning, just the way I like it, he grabbed me by the legs and forced his thigh up against my crotch. His cock burst forward out of his slit and hit me like a battering ram. Somehow the crocodile always hit my prostate with the first thrust and I rolled my eyes, my claws digging harmlessly into the scaled arm I held, held hostage by the intense stab of please.

Jalith pounded my rear and I was helpless to resist, I was just a weak little fox slave after all, nothing but prey to the big bad crocodile. I was practically paralyzed with lust by the fifth thrust, unable to do more than moan and sigh.

Though the crocodile was a good lay quality-wise, that battering ram cock was something else after all, he was not one to last very long. Cold semen shot into my rear, an unusual feeling for those not acquainted with cold-blooded folks but let me tell you, it is better than it sounds.

Ever the thoughtful slave master, Jalith began to stroke my throbbing cock.

"So I was thinking..." Jalith paused, an uncharacteristic bit of shyness catching his throat, "...how much did the caravan buy you for?"

"Mmmm..." I moaned as his scales slid across my cock, "...five thousand Crowns."

Jalith puffed out his chest. I knew what he wanted and tried to concentrate, this was the moment I was waiting for.

Pleasure welled up in my cock as my knot grew. I could feel it, my balls shuddered, my cock throbbing, it was going to come any moment now.

Suddenly, those black enchanted markings appeared once more, followed by another chill. My knot deflated and my cock shrank.

A voice whispered in my head.

Slaves need to ask permission.

It was Benny's voice. That damned coyote put a curse on me.

And for what? What did I do to him!?

I silently begged in my mind while Jalith grew increasingly still. He wanted my hot seed on his chest, that was the clincher, that's what I needed to give to get what I wanted.

But there was nothing coming.

"That's...a lot," Jalith muttered. It wasn't, it was damned affordable even if he doubled it. "Well, uh..."

"I can still make this work! Just give the order!"

"Cum, slave!" Jalith sneered suddenly. "I command you!"

The collar heated up and for a moment my cock entered a new level of pleasure that I hadn't been able to achieve since that damned coyote entered my life. My body grew numb with pleasure, save for my throbbing cock, and...

Slaves need to ask permission.

Once again, I begged the voice to let me cum, at first inside my head but then I spoke aloud.

"For the love of the Gods, please let me cum! Please!"

Confused, Jalith pulled out, allowing cold semen to drip out of my ass. The crocodile put on his vest and turned to the tent flap.

"Uh, I paid for the night so you can just rest, I guess..."

With that, the crocodile stepped out of the tent, his thick tail trailing behind him until he vanished.

"Damn you! Why!?" I growled "Why would you inflict such a curse on me!?"

I could have sworn I heard chuckling in my head but I got no answer other than that.

And worst of all, I still felt intense arousal. Arousal that I could not sate.

And the gods only knew when the coyote would show mercy on me, if ever.