The New Harem Slave

Story by Gruffy on SoFurry

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In Ancient Ottoman Empire, a captured soldier faces new life of servitude under a Vizier.


The New Harem Slave

*

Hello!

This is a rather special commission - it was sponsored by avatar?user=14478&character=0&clevel=2 Guri with characters provided by avatar?user=47374&character=0&clevel=2 frozenthrone and avatar?user=11867&character=0&clevel=2 wolfboyx9 - this one is rather strong in its themes, so please stand warned. I look forward to hearing what you think!

Cheers!

*

Aiden had lost the track of time.

The wolf-ram woke up with a startle to the sound of steps outside in the corridor, alerting his ears, tension growing in the soldier's emaciated body. He was hunched in a corner, too tired to really stay properly upright without the support the stone wall offered - damp and cool, despite the scorching conditions that existed outside, somewhere top side. He wasn't sure how long he had been in the dungeon, not seeing the sun, being kept in the darkness for most of the time, food coming without any regularity he could perceive, everything was bound to blend together into a mass of disjointed events in his mind.

The horned wolf listened carefully. Usually the appearance of steps meant they were going to bring water and food, and his stomach was empty. It even let out a hungry growl while he stayed there, waiting for the telltale click of a bolt being pulled...the blissful smell of food, no matter what kind of a foul slop it might be, it would keep the hunger away for at least a little time.

The sound did happen, and there was a scratching noise of the heavy wooden door being shifted, before torchlight appeared and practically blinded the wolf.

He lifted a paw to cover his face, and when the stars stopped bursting in his vision, he could see the robed lion standing on the doorway, flanked by a bull and a horse, both clad in leather. One of them held a torch, and the other, lengths of leather, wrapped about an arm.

The lion barked commands to the two, and they approached. Aiden tried to get up against the wall, to defend himself from the two, but he was too weak by now, from lack of food, from isolation, to put up any real resistance. He was spun around and pushed roughly against the wall, air smacked out of his lungs and making him grunt when his arms were pulled behind him, painfully, and leather was wrapped around his wrists.

The former soldier was hauled out of his chamber and into the corridor, lined with similar cells containing the trader's stock. Aiden didn't know where he was exactly, but he had no misunderstandings about the nature of the place where he was kept. It was a slave trader's house, and he had been exchanged for a few coins, once the vile heathen army had returned with him, and many of his comrades in arms held prisoners and brought along to this sun-burnt land as spoils of war.

How long time ago was that? He could no longer remember. Did these heathens even follow the same kind of a calendar as his own kind? Likely not. They were not keen to answer any questions, that much was for sure, and he had born many bruises for trying.

The bull and the horse dragged him up a flight of stairs and into a room with windows opening onto a yard, a garden, really, with fragrant plants and greenery in exotic colors unfamiliar to him.

He was walked over to a stone pillar and pressed against it, his bound paws secured onto it with further lengths of leather. Aiden was almost glad for it, to have something the lean upon, while the bull and the horse moved to the side, and the lion, in his fine, splendid robe, approached him, eyeing the wolf with horns curiously.

"...interesting..." the lion said, and to Aiden's surprise, it was the first understandable word he had heard uttered in this wretched place.

"You...speak my words?" the wolf mumbled tiredly.

"Yes...I does," the lion replied. His paw clasped onto the wolf's muzzle and pried it apart, spreading his lips forcefully while he peered into the lupine's maw. It made Aiden cough, his tail smacking against the pillar behind him. "Yes..."

"What is this?" Aiden asked.

"Inspection," the lion replied.

His paws moved over the wolf's naked body - he had had the last scrap of cloth torn off him the moment he had been brought into this place, and he had spent the rest of the time of his captivity in total nudity. There was nothing to hide any feature of his body, and the lion seemed to be keen to explore him. He poked at arms and legs with his paws, inspected the wolf's neck, his footpaws, even, especially embarrassingly, rolling the wolf's nuts in his paw and giving them a tug that made Aiden grumble in confusion and displeasure.

"You...would do well..." the lion mused, looking the horned wolf in the eye.

"What...do you mean?" Aiden questioned.

The lion shrugged.

"I trade for many things...purposes...yes?" the lion's ears flicked back and forth. "Good Christian stock...famous for it, I am..they say, ask Harith for good pagans, yes?"

The lion smirked broadly, showing a few rotten teeth in the process. Aiden shuddered. The lion was boasting about being known as the procurer of slaves captured from Europe, it seemed. What a disgusting infidel, the wolf-ram thought, and sneered. The lion didn't seem to care for his show of displeasure, but simply kept on talking in his grumbling voice.

"You...good. Will...bigger, when more food. Good...train..." the lion spoke in his broken words, "you would...make good..."

"You planning to sell me?" Aiden stated the question he had no doubt of.

The lion chuffed.

"Special...price...for special...customer..." he eyed the wolf-ram, "you...would fit...need...taming...but..."

"Taming?" Aiden spat. He was not going to be submitting to anything. As soon as he was taken out of this place, he would try to escape. He'd swim across the sea if it would come to that, the wolf thought. One lapse in vigilance and he would break the neck of any slavemaster who would attempt to keep him, and he would make his flight. There was no question of that, he thought, and growled at the very idea of tasting the lion's blood while tearing his head off.

"Yes...will...tame..." the lion smirked. "Make...good for the Master...what he wants..."

"I won't do any of his bidding," Aiden replied. "I only answer to my King and my God."

The lion growled.

"Speak no of your infidel god!" the lion yelled, spittle flying from his maw. "You mine now! Me decide! Not you king or god!"

Aiden bared his teeth. The lion gave a command, and the horse stepped forward, now brandishing a leather whip. The wolf-ram didn't have time to prepare for it before he was being whacked, the painful snaps covering most of his torso with agony while he writhed against the lengths of leather coiled about his arms to keep him unmoving.

He was panting by the time the harsh treatment finished, sore and covered in welts.

"I sent many of you soldiers to mines! To ships!" the lion growled. "They like cattle...they no worth to anyone...you...you not...you be...valuable...like gold...exactly what Master wants...you will be his..."

"I will not serve anyone!" the wolf barked, even with the threat of another merciless whipping hanging in the air.

"You no ask! You no choose!" the lion hissed. "You mine! Then his!"

The lion slipped back into his own language and ordered up the horse and the bull, whom walked to the wolf-ram and grabbed his arms. The lion made another call towards an open doorway leading into another part of the building, and out of the portal a small cheetah appeared, with a cloth bag slung over his shoulder, indeed wearing a robe like the lion was as well.

"Here...Imad..." the lion snorted to the wolf-ram, "Imad...train...for new job..."

The lion laughed roughly and spoke rapidly to the cheetah, whom responded in kind while gesturing expansively. His paws disappeared into his bag and pulled out a green glass bottle, one with a cork stopper, held carefully in his palm for it appeared to be a fragile artifact.

Another command, and Aiden received hands over his muzzle, forcing him maw wide open. The cheetah approached with a steady look over his narrow face, the bottle uncorked and held at ready. The wolf could imagine where it was meant to go, and he tried to struggle, tried to bite at the fingers holding his maw open, but they were much too strong for him to resist them properly.

"Now you...you get trained..." the lion growled to the wolf-ram.

He could smell the pungent aroma of alcohol and herbs, as the bottle was held up to his lips and its contents poured down into the gagging and coughing wolf's throat. He tried to spit it out, but the very same hands soon kept his maw closed so that he had no choice but to swallow, the concoction burning on its way down the wolf's throat.

The servants moved away, leaving the panting wolf against the stone column, glaring at his captors.

"I'll never serve anyone!" he screamed. "None will ever be my master!"

"That is what they say...always," the slave trader lion responded.

Aiden yelled at them until his head and limbs grew strangely heavy and then light, and he became too sleepy to be able to keep his head up...before darkness, and the veil of unconsciousness wrapped themselves around the wolf's trapped spirit.


*

The wolf was endlessly thirsty and felt feverish when he finally came to, lying upon a warm, smooth, and most of all, soft surface. His head felt heavy, and his breathing was rapid. He wondered if there had been poison in the draught he'd been forced to drink...whether this was a strange hallucination or a dream image, conjured up his mind under some sort of a witch's potion.

He knew he couldn't move, that was for sure. His limbs refused to answer to his desires to move them about, and when he opened his lips to call for the water the desperately craved, only a weak hiss came out.

He felt so very tired. How long had he been asleep? He had no idea of that, but at least the surface was more comfortable than the straws on damp stone floor that he had almost gotten used to previously in the dungeon.

"...w...water..."

Aiden did not know how long he laid down, but eventually, he heard movement, and someone entered into the room he did not know, and it was the cheetah whom he remembered earlier, the witch with the potion, he thought.

"Awake," the cheetah said, and Aiden found himself understanding his words, "yes..."

"Water..." Aiden groaned again.

"Soon...oil first..." the cheetah rumbled.

"Can't...drink oil.." Aiden moaned.

The cheetah had his bag with him once again, and brought out another bottle from it,which he placed down onto the edge of the bed. Aiden tried to look at it, to see what the cheetah would do, and found that he had regained enough strength to lift his head.

The sight shocked him. His legs were tied down to the bed with many ropes, and a strange white mass of bandages covered his groin. The cheetah was eyeing that part of his body as well, and began to remove the swath of cloth with his small fingers while Aiden was staring, wide-eyed and feeling like he was about to faint.

"Did well..:" the cheetah said, "little blood spilled..it is the iron, you see...hot iron, no blood..."

Aiden shivered, even if he didn't quite understand what the cat was talking about. Coils of stained cloth were removed, and the wolf started to wonder whether they had done something awful to his man's parts...branded them or pierced them with metal...he had heard of such things being done to men sold to slave, to stop them from fucking, by having their cocks stuck with a metal ring...what if they had done something as horrifying as that to him?

He struggled against the bindings, but could not move any more than an inch to any direction.

"Still...calm..." the cheetah murmured.

"What is this?" Aiden groaned.

"Put...oil...to heal..."

"Heal?"

The cheetah tugged the final lengths of bandage away, exposing the wolf-ram's groin finally and fully.

The former soldier could not imagine the horror that his eyes were met with, when the cloth was removed. His nuts were huge, black and swollen, and his sheath...the skin hung loose, and there was nothing there.

Nothing.

"AGAGHHGG GOOOD VIRGIN MARY!"

The cheetah grabbed onto the skin of his sheath and the pain that ensued was enough to make him gasp with sheer agony, besides the terror upon his mind. A thick, round, black, scabby scar remained of his cock, dark like a lump of coal. Upon the center a piece of metal glistened...was it the ring he had heard rumors of? But his cock...his dick was not there. Gone. Disappeared. Cut away. Burnt...

The wolf's lips opened in a moan of terror that became a whimper, and tears filled his eyes when the cheetah dapped oil with his fingerpads upon the cauterized stump of his manhood.

"Good oil...make...heal..." the cheetah murmured, "heal well...good..."

"W-what...God...Ggod, My God!" the wolf slurred in delirium. He could not believe what was happening, could not understand the kind of injury that had been inflicted on him...it was beyond horrible, it was incomprehensible.

"Sleep now..."

The cheetah made him drink strange-tasting water from a bottle, which caused the whimpering wolf-ram to fall into unconsciousness again.


*

Aiden had never known agony quite like the type when he was pulled off his bed by the bull and the horse and made to stand in a corner of the room while the cheetal manipulated his empty sheath.

"Piss," the cheetah had said.

"Ahhh..." the wolf had groaned.

He tugged on the ring piercing the wolf's stump, and pressed a paw hard against his belly, to force the piss out of his bladder.

"AAAAAGRHHJ!"

They had to haul him back to the bed and drop him there, where he shivered, whimpered and cried.

*

"As soon as you heal, you will go to your Master," the lion told Aiden one day, the wolf-ram unsure how long since he had woken up to discover his mutilation, "he will be pleased. Imad say you heal well."

"I'll kill myself," Aiden grunted in reply. "I am no longer a man."

The lion laughed hollowly.

"Master will not mind, half man or not," the lion spoke up.

The weak wolf-ram wanted to throttle him and dig his eyes out of their sockets.

"More honey, cake and sweet meat for you, slave," the lion told him. "Need...strength for your Master. Master likes....strength."

"I won't eat.," Aiden spat. "I'll starve myself to death."


*

But his hunger won, and the food and water, laced with the juice of poppies, unknowingly to the wolf-ram, soothened the pain from his cauterized wound. He couldn't bear himself to look at it, not even when he was to pull his sheath back and grab the hollow metal ring with its little hole upon it to allow his water to pass. He was sure to pull the long shirt he wore back down again as soon as he was done, and tried not to think about his mutilation. With so little to do in his new, larger prison room, it was impossible to keep it away from his mind.

They'd cut him...removed his manhood., and only leaving his sheath and his angrily swollen balls. They felt very sensitive to touch, sore and unusually warm. He wondered what kind of damage had been done to them - they looked like someone had kicked them, and he had seen that happen, and the end result had not been good for the recipient. It was probably not something he should be glad about, that they were still there - what to do with them when he simply did not have his manhood anymore? No more breeding women...never to sire cubs...never to experience the pleasures of the flesh anymore. They'd robbed him of that, and these infidels were to sell him into someone's service...forever to serve a master as a broken, destroyed man. As worthless as a mule, a son unable to bear fruit from his own loins, to pass on his legacy.

What good was he any more, the wolf contemplated, in many long, dark hours when gnawing his wrists open seemed like the best way to end it all...but at least a hint of his pride remained, deep within him, something that told him that such a sinful activity would only bring bad things to his people. He wouldn't fail God, whom he had vowed to serve, to fight the infidels. He would find a way to do that...to revenge...to find his deliverance from their hellish evils.


*

Aiden was sitting in his room and contemplating ways of escaping his servitude when the door was unbolted and the nasty lion entered, flanked by his ever-present bodyguards in the form of the horse and the bull, and accompanied this time by another horse, a white stallion carrying fabrics upon his arms.

"Arise, Tahir," the lion said, "it is time for you to go."

The wolf tensed, baring his teeth upon the approach of the men into his chamber.

"What?" he questioned.

The lion spoke to the white stallion, whom spread out his fabrics onto a table and laid down the tools of his trade, revealed to be that of a clothesmaker, Aiden realized.

"Your clothing awaits, Tahir," the lion told him. "Must look good for your Master."

"What is Tahir?" Aiden grunted the strange word out.

The lion, in his silks and perfume, gave him a brief glance, as if looking at the wolf-ram for particularly long made him feel displeased.

"Your name...Tahir," the slaver stated. "Tahir..."

He pointed at the wolf-ram, and smiled. The wolf sneered.

"Never!" He reared up, and the bodyguards were already moving in his direction, to put themselves between the wolf and the lion. The slaver bared his teeth.

"Lucky, you," he pointed at the wolf-ram, "others like you, mines, ships...you...body slave...will never want...you...lucky heathen..one word...and will change!"

The lion slaver's angry finger-shaking made him want to charge him...the bodyguards be damned. Perhaps it would not be a bad way to die, to get his freedom from this wretched existence. For a split second Aiden even contemplated that choice, too, before the instinct of self-preservation, the very gut feeling that had kept him alive on the battlefield.

He bit his tongue throughout the time his clothes were removed, measurements made, the quiet white stallion adjusting and pulling new, silken cloth to cover his body in a robe from neck to toe. It almost made him look like one of the local heathens, Aiden thought, uncomfortable under the sack-like attire. The wolf's displeasure only grew when his paws were secured with lengths of rope and he was walked into a carriage and locked upon its back compartment, once again plunged into almost complete darkness and heading into an unknown destination, body soon aching from smacking around against the walls of the bouncing carriage.


*

He was sore and thirsty and his arms were stiff after being forced into the same position for hours - and Aiden thought dully that there was nothing new about the situation for him, except that instead of rags or simple linen he was wearing silk now. The outfit did feel good on him, he had to admit, he felt cool and comfortable, despite its very odd, heathen cut. He hadn't become as sweaty as he usually was, even though the air was stale and hot inside the compartment in the carriage.

This is how he found himself, when the carriage was finally stopped and guards, new faces, no bull or the horse, pulled him out and walked through a tall, barred gate into the bowels of the building so large that the glimpse he managed to get before he was pushed inside did not provide him with much information about the true nature of the location.

He was walked through corridors lined with torches, nothing to describe the purpose of the place where he'd been taken, the guards walking him along until they were suddenly in the open and he was standing upon a moat - a wooden bridge crossing a waterered embankment, and beyond the bridge, another gate.

One of the guards pushed him on the back with his paw and gestured towards the gate on the other side, while the other yelled something, and Aiden could see movement above a parapet, strangely shaped and nothing like those back home, but obviously a fortification, and a brief call in the strange heathen tongue returned.

The huge gate in front of him began to open, slowly, in increments, yet smoothly, until it was up high enough for him to pass. The opened door revealed the presence of further furs, these with stern looks on their faces, strangely round and chubby, he thought. They were loose pants that ballooned about the waist and the legs so that it looked like their limbs were huge, their feet covered in pointy-tipped shoes, and the shirts they wore were silk as well. One of them, a canine of some sort, spoke some words to him in the strange tongue which Aiden could not understand. and he was gestured within, as the massive gate rumbled shut behind them.

The two finely dressed figures led on the wolf-ram, paws still tied behind his back as he struggled to follow them, taking in the sights of the ornate walls, wooden screens carved with endless holes to create pattern, rugs, carpets, incense burners, colored woven fabrics upon the walls, and endless depictions of flowers covering many of the walls and surrounding windows made of colored glass.

All this he saw, walking through the corridor and following the two men, who seemed to be free to move about as they wanted, which seemed to indicate they were servants, not slaves, Aiden thought, wondering what his ultimate destination would be in this strange place.

They reached a room, a chamber with many low seating couches, tables loaded with fruit in gilded bowls, burning oil lamps, a heavy, musky scent hovering over the room decorated with similar splendor as the rest of the rooms he had seen before in this palace beyond the moat and the tall walls. He also encountered yet another member of the household, too, a black panther, dressed in red silk, with piercing blue eyes that caught Aiden's as soon as he entered. The cat gave a few hissed commands to the servants, whom took positions on either side of the doors they had entered from.

Aiden stood still, tense, not letting the black panther out of his sights.

" Me, Nasir," the black panther stated in understandable words, "you, Tahir?"

"Aiden," the wolf growled.

The black panther clicked his tongue.

"Master chooses to call you Tahir," the cat said, "you, Tahir."

"I'm Aiden!" the wolf-ram barked.

"Nasir," the black panther murmured in his low, drawling voice, "I am the...eldest...of the Master's hareem. You respond to me for orders, and punishment."

Aiden's ears burnt with anger as they drooped against his crown.

"What?"

"You look fine," Nasir spoke, flicking an ear pierced with many golden rings, "you will...serve Master well...you...what he has been looking for some time now...from all the markets...you...what he wants..."

Aiden hissed.

"What does your...so-called Master want of me?"

The cat began to circle him slowly, his tail swinging behind him, rustling against the silk, red as blood.

"Anything he desires, Tahir," the black panther said, "he owns you now...as his property, he may...choose any usage for you as he sees fit."

Aiden sneered.

"I am nobody's slave!" he growled. He wanted to lunge at the cat, to bite his ears off...but he knew that the other servants...possibly slaves, he realized, in horror, could have moved against him and made a stop of his attempt to attack the black panther.

"You are his own now, Tahir," the cat said, "he already has marked you as one of his when he ordered your cock to be removed."

The wolf-ram was surprised at the black panther's usage of such a rude word, and it unsettled him to a degree, besides the fact that it reminded him of the terrible thing that had befallen to him. How did the black panther know about it? Was it true that whoever had bought him from the slavers had ordered him to be mutilated and cut in such a manner?

"What do you mean?" he spat.

"The Master had mind for someone like you...big...strong...handsome.." the cat murmured, "with no cock...dangerous around a hareem, such a male, if he had his equipment intact..."

"What are you talking about?" he yelled, loud enough that he could hear the rustle of silk as the furs flanking the door became alarmed by the noise.

"Your life will be that of service now," the black panther said, "when you are not expected to amuse the Master with your body, you will amuse him with you presence and your looks and your...pagan...ways..."

"I am nobody's servant but God and the King!" Aiden growled. "Your Master, whoever that is - "

"Is your owner," the cat interrupted him, "and he expects his property to behave accordingly."

"I won't - "

"This is your new chamber, Tahir," the cat said, gesturing around the room, "when you are not desired, this is where you stay. All this is for your use, given to you by your Master, and you should be grateful for everything he provides to his precious commodities. If you are sick, he will provide doctors and healers...if you need clothing, more silks will be brought...there will be no shortage of food and drink...anything...as long as you serve him."

"I'll rather choke to the fucking sand that covers everything in this fucking place!" Aiden growled.

The cat spoke something to the silk-clad slaves, whom then approached Aiden who expected a beating for speaking out of the line - but instead they simply removed his bindings and retreated out of the room, followed by the cat, Nasir.

"Rest, for you will be working tomorrow, Tahir," the black panther told before the doors closed and were audibly bolted shut.

The wolf-ram stood in the room, breathing heavily, newly freed paws clenched into firsts. He turned about to stare at the doors, covered in the same ornate carvings that mirrored the painted decorations on the walls, and hissed, spittle falling from between his teeth. His tail ruffled the silks of his robe, and he growled, unable to contain his frustration and anger any further. Trapped...one dank prison cell simply turning into one that was sweet-smelling and silk-clad instead.

He shuffled around the room, looking at the windows - which overlooked the moat, and a similarly tall wall on the other side of it, which meant that even if he would jump out of the room, there would be no way he could climb up on the opposite side, forever made to swim in circles around the moat until he would be exhausted and then drown into its murky water. The door, which he shook, was bolted shut from the outside and showed no weaknesses. The walls were solid stone, or brick, perhaps, covered in a plastering of a material that had then been painted. Little bits of it scraped off when he ran his claws over it, but he stopped that after he had managed to clip off a few pieces near the door. They might find out that he'd done it and punish him.. Aiden wanted nothing more than to smash every single item in the room into small splinters, break the clayware, destroy the chairs tables, beds, couches, tear into the fabrics...but he knew that his only way to survive this ordeal would be to pretend his agreement...to try and gain their trust until they would give him a moment's lapse...and then would be his turn to run.

He inspected the room for a long time, impossible to tell even by the movement of the sun, considering that the shaded windows did not allow him to see the sky itself. He sat down upon a low bench in frustration, ate some fruit from the gilded bowl, sweet, and staining his fingers and lips, but it did not make him feel better despite sating his hunger and his thirst. His discomfort was immense, his thoughts, wandering about. What kind of service would be expected of him? He had no skills...was he to guard the harem? He'd heard of them, of course, of these Levantine nobles who would see no qualms about cavorting with dozens of women at once, kept behind lock and key in palaces surely just like this. Had they cut him so that he could serve the women, or guard them, without being perceived as a danger to them, only the noble having the right to use them for his lustful purposes? Could that be the cruel thinking behind his injury, their mutilation of his body to turn him into the abomination he had become?

Aiden dwelled in depressing thoughts, lingering on one of the padded couches, and felt sleepy despite his discomfort. Despite this, when the door shuffled, he jumped into complete alertness, ready to fight...

...but what entered was not a cruel slaver or a feeble servant, no, the doors came into a close, and the fur that entered was nothing he would have expected.

She was a slim dog, her body covered in the lightest of silk that fell over her breasts and over her head in a kind of a cowl that revealed only her blue eyes and the mottled face, black spots upon white fur.

The wolf-ram stood still, tail rigid, staring at the woman. She was young, very young indeed, barely more than a girl, he thought. She stood upright, not a sloughing woman at all, and her eyes seemed alert and keen.

"Who are you?" Aiden rumbled.

The girl approached, a lingering whisper of scent about her, some sort of a perfume, Aiden thought. It tickled his nose and made him breathe out quickly, heady, musky smell he wasn't sure he enjoyed very much.

"Me..." the girl said in a surprisingly low voice, despite her stature, "...hello...you?"

Aiden stared as she approached, knees making the silks around her body rustle and move. He could see her breasts clearly, bare under the thin fabric. Was she wearing nothing at all underneath it? The wolf-ram tensed.

"Who are you? I don't want anyone here," Aiden grumbled.

The dog looked at him curiously, blinking at him. He could see her very long, curled eyelashes move. Her eyes were lined with a mixture of red and blue...some sort of a paint.

"Whore," Aiden snorted.

The girl's puzzled expression did not change. One of the folds of fabric moved and her paw extended about from underneath her clothing, small fingers approaching before she touched Aiden's arm. The wolf-ram growled and pulled his arm away.

"No," he said.

"Me...fuck...you?" the girl said.

Aiden's eyes widened. What kind of a sick perversion was this? Send a whore to a man who no longer counter as one, unable to sire, to mate? Sending a painted whore to throw herself at him...

"No," he said.

"Me...fuck..." the girl repeated herself.

"NO!" Aiden yelled.

The girl seemed taken aback by his outburst, but persisted.

"Me...you...fuck!" the girl chirped.

"Go away!" Aiden pointed at the door. "Go...AWAY? Don't you understand what I say?"

"Me..fuck!" the girl sounded cheerful now.

She ran her paws along her sides and suddenly, with a tug, the entire outfit came loose and fell upon the floor to reveal her nudity in his eyes - round breasts with hard, brown nipples standing firm, her attractive hips - her cunt, too, a hint of pink upon the mound, and the scent - without the clothing on her, the scent hit him full power, and Aiden let out another growl.

He knew that scent, of course he did, he was a male. She was in the beginnings of her heat, the scent she was emitting was deep and obviously only yet growing to the intensity that would signal her willingness to breed for any men nearby. He'd known the scent before, knew how it made him feel uncomfortable, wanting, needy, and he couldn't help it even now, he felt a...a shocking stirring, in his loins, that soon became painful. There was a filling sensation in his sheath, despite his cock being gone, there was a...a feeling he couldn't explain, and it was more pain than pleasure.

"Go away," he mumbled "please..."

He couldn't believe this kind of cruelty. To send her to a man who was unable to do anything about it even if she'd been willing and he...if he'd been ready to commit such fornication. He mights have slipped in the past and chastised himself for it, but this...this would've been different, if he'd gone through with it. It was like they just wanted him to do it...to remember that he simply couldn't take a woman anymore...making him suffer even more, to further extend the humiliation they had placed upon him.

"You...me...fuck..." the girl's paws fondled her breasts and slipped down onto her fragrant heat as well, poking within.

Aiden growled hotly and turned his eyes away from the lewd performance. She must've been part of the harem, he thought, trained in every possible rude act to incite desire in her master, to make use of her body.

"GO AWAY!" he yelled without looking at her. "GET OUT OF HERE!"

She moved closer again, and when her paw touched his shoulder, he snapped.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHTS YOU FILTHY WHORE!"

The girl withdrew, naked and shaking a little, towards a corner of the room. Aiden growled further and gnawed his teeth together.

He expected her to leave after his rejection, but she did not. Instead, she put on her slip of silk again and sat down by one of the small tables to eat fruit from the bowl, chattering to him in her own language and generally acting like the incident happened. Aiden ended up pretending that she wasn't even there...just another ornament, like any other part of the room. That way she seemed to leave him alone as well. Perhaps that's what she thought she was, too...just another pretty thing that was meant to blend in with the rest of the decor. Aiden thought it was a horrible existence for anyone, let alone that woman, but he couldn't bring himself to feel a great deal of pity for anyone except himself at the moment.


*

He woke up to strange sensations, warmth, movement, things he knew he wasn't supposed to be experiencing...startled into awakeness in a shock of feeling, touch, breath, warmth on his chest -

"AGH!"

An oil lamp was still burning, and in its glow he could see the girl's eyes shimmer from only inches away. She had pulled his robe open and was fondling her chest and belly, avoiding his scarred sheth but her lips were about to press onto his neck the very moment when he came to.

"GET OFF ME!" he grabbed the woman and she was thrown onto the floor in a tumble of limbs and a muffled shriek when she was suddenly manhandled away from him. The wolf-ram, his loins aching the same way they did earlier, when she had...tempted him, jumped up, the silks falling from his body so that he was standing nude by the couch he'd ended up sleeping on for the night.

The girl was moaning on the thick rug on the floor, resting on one hip, bare fur visible as far as he could tell, mottled in the same black and white as the rest of her. She was nude, and the scent of her arousal, her heat, it was so thick in the air that it made Aiden grunt almost desperately.

"NO!" he waved his arms around. "NO! NO! NO!"

He paced the room, desperate to get some distance between himself and the wench on the floor. Her scent lingered on him, and Aiden realized that she must've rubbed some of it on him, while she was lying close to him...maybe even on top of her, as if they were mating, simulating the act he had been cruelly deprived of.

"I'll hit you again if you try to touch me again, you harlot," Aiden growled to the girl.

"Me...fuck...you..." the dog whimpered.

"IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY?" Aiden groaned in frustration.

The girl looked genuinely scared, and despite her touching him without his permission nor want, he almost felt pity at that moment, watching her splayed on the floor and making pathetic noises. she was probably in pain despite the rug offering a relatively soft surface for her to land on. He'd never harmed a woman, not even a heathen peasant one...he did not feel good about starting at this moment, either.

"Just...no...no touching, yes? No...fuck?"

"Fuck!" the girl said.

Aiden grunted and moved away to one of the shielded windows, to be as far away from her as possible.

He was still breathing heavily and she was sitting on the floor, when he heard the door bolts move and the doors open, to admit male male lions, a feline woman he couldn't quite identify, carrying vats, boxes and pails, and then there was the black panther, following them all with a snug expression on his muzzle and his paws behind his back.

"Tahir..." he greeted the wolf-ram first, not paying attention to the girl crouching on the floor in fear.

"I'm not Tahir," Aiden muttered.

The black panther spoke a long burst to the girl on the floor, whom answered something Aiden of course couldn't understand. After that, the female servant who had accompanied them picked up her silk apparel and wrapped it around the dog cowering on the floor.

"Ihab says that you did not approach her," the black cat told the wolf-ram. "Is that so?"

"I am CHASTE!" Aiden snarled. "I don't want your whores."

The black cat snorted.

"The Master's girls are very valuable property, and you have mishandled Ihab," the black panther said, "that is a very serious offense by you for which you could be punished."

"I don't care," the wolf-ram grunted," you'll be burning in Hell for it."

The two lion slaves, or servants, perhaps, moved about the room while the black cat spoke, placing things down on the table in front of them, warm water, mysterious glass items, a bowl of fruit, even several bottles that looked like wine.

"It was a special gift, too, Tahir," the black cat rumbled, "the Master likes his men to be...needy...when the time comes. Hence he told me to send the girl."

"What time?" the wolf snorted. "To bow in front of your so-called Master's feet and kiss them in my submission?"

The cat laughed, a hissing, gnarling sound that unsettled the wolf-ram. The lions did not seem to care, instead, they were busy pouring water and a sweet-smelling powder onto a pail of water.

"I think he'll expect you to bow some other way and to kiss a wholly different part of his body, but I am sure he will make his desires known to you when you present yourself to him," the black cat said. "He is quite adept at this bizarre tongue of yours, so he should not have trouble guiding you, with words or...otherwise..."

"I will not bow to your...master..or anyone else!" the wolf-ram grunted.

His eyes glimpsed the sight of one of the lion servants opening a wooden box he had brought along, out of which he removed a large cylindrical object. Next to him, the other lion was pouring milk onto a pail of warm water from a pitcher before starting to stir it. His body jerked at the sight of the items in use...for he recognized its basic shape and purpose, having seen such items before.

"What are you doing with that?" he snorted.

The black panther glanced at the working lions and smiled briefly at the wolf-ram.

"The Master likes his boys clean, of course, as anyone would", the cat said, "hence, you will be getting a klyster to cleanse your bowels before he has his way with you."

Aiden felt like his stomach was about to expel its contents upon the floor right where he was standing. The furs on the back of his neck began to spike up.

"Your master is a SODOMITE?" he yelled.

The black cat flicked his ears calmly, despite the wolf's rough, raised tone.

"The Master has many tastes, when it comes to lying with his harem, including variety in the choice of...holes..."

The black male's murmured remark confirmed the wolf-ram's worst fears. That was his purpose as a new slave for this elusive' 'Master', intended for being taken for his filthy desires, bought like he was just one of those girls...and perhaps even more lowly, with his manhood gone. Made into a sodomite's plaything, the subject of his ungodly acts - of course a heathen who amused himself by keeping a whole stock of women and men, and mutilating them, would also be keen on committing gross abominations against God. He'd seen sodomites before, strung up into trees as the only due punishment for their perversion. Now they were going to -

"You can defile my body but not my soul," the wolf-ram spoke with conviction, "and I'll rather jump through this window into my death than let you to defile me."

The black cat laughed sneeringly.

"Choosing death over that one service expected of you in exchange for being allowed to live in this room, with all your needs taken care of?" the cat's tail swung about the room, to indicate its splendor and comfort.

"I will NOT let myself be unnaturally taken!" the soldier growled. "You might've taken my manhood away but - "

The black panther snorted.

"You think this is...taking your manhood away?" he pointed at the wolf who still stood naked near the window, his spot of retreat from the slave girl's advances, his clothing still strewn across the floor. "You consider this to be the end? The defeat of your manhood?"

The wolf-ram couldn't make himself glance down at his mutilated sheath, instead he kept on staring at the prickly cat standing in front of him.

The cat clicked his tongue.

"You have not experienced true humiliation and defeat yet, Tahir," the black panther murmured. "You can not have any idea of what would await you if you refuse your Master's kindness."

"I do not call this KINDNESS!" the wolf-ram bared his teeth.

"Do you not know what happens to others of your kind?" the cat sneered. "Do you not know where Harith sells his stock, beyond the special purpose you were procured for?"

"I was obviously not in a position to ask!" Aiden barked.

"Even the lowliest beast would not find work as burdening as the kind his slaves are made to do...the pits...the...mines, yes?"

"I'd rather dig the earth until my paws bleed than submit myself to your master," the wolf-ram declared.

"Many do not go to the mines...there is always a...a fire burning outside...a pyre... for the bodies of those who...who fall...the stench, Tahir...that burning flesh..."

Aiden shuddered at the idea of his comrades in arms, those proud soldiers stripped of their swords and made to burrow into the ground like rats...nothing more than beasts of burden, by the sounds of it.

"Hmppph," the cat grunted before he yelled something for the lion attendants accompanying him. They put down their klyster equipment and instead moved over to another table, to pour sweet wine into a goblet.

"There," said the black panther, "perhaps wine will help you to decide. You have two sands' time to consider your...decisions...before we'll come back. And believe me...a refusal to appear before your Master will not be taken kindly by him. He has paid so much gold for you that he could never hope to recover such investment by selling you on to the mines...he might even decide to deal with you otherwise..."

Aiden did not have a chance to speak up to the black cat again, for a quickly snapped command from him made the lions withdraw from the room, followed by the panther, who stopped at the doorway, to hold up two fingers from one paw.

"Two sands, Tahir," the black panther said.

The doors were bolted shut, leaving the wolf-ram once again alone in his prison. Aiden's tail slammed itself against the wooden, carved window sill, making a candle holder upon it rattle. He let out a dark whine and collapsed onto his bare knees upon the soft rug, shaking as he fell onto his stomach on the floor, panting with terror and pain gnawing at his insides.

His options had been laid down for him - either to submit and break his body and soul in service of this vile sodomite, or to allow them to break his body in hard labor, with no concern whether he would live or die, as long as his paws would be used to dig the hard earth until he would fall to his death with exhaustion. They would not care...he would be lowlier than the sickliest horse feebly pulling a peasant' plough.

And here, in this palace of golden walls and silk-clad servants, he would be made into a whore to a man whose beastly desires made him use males for his vile acts. How could even these heathens allow such power be wielded, power to reside in palaces like this, if his nature was corrupted down to the core of his being? Were these people truly so lacking of even the most basic natural morality, and righteousness?

He moaned and groaned in the spot, until his body was filled with such nervous energy that he could no longer stay still. The wolf-ram paced the room, clenching his paws and growling in his misery. He could not stand or sit in one spot, too restless and angry to give himself a moment's rest.

Again his eyes drew to the window...only a thin wooden, carved shade covering the pane of glass, beyond which the moat awaited. He would fall...and he would -

He groaned at the idea. Taking his own life would send him to Hell, whatever his other earthly sins were. His God would not look good upon such an act, not even in the face of such humiliation and destruction of his body and mind in the paws of these heathens.

Was he a coward for even contemplating his three choices? Was it truly even a question to choose between the mine or the depravity of the harem?

The shivering wolf-ram sat down onto one of the small wooden chairs and downed the wine that had been poured for him. It burnt, but then it warmed his stomach, strong and musky taste in his muzzle, over his tongue.

His shaky paw poured more, and he drank, grunting when the liquid heat made his stomach glow. A different kind of a burning happened in his throat and under his breastbone.

Die with a broken body...or die with a broken soul...


*

The wolf-ram's ears flicked slowly when the door finally opened, the black -furred cat entering, once again followed by the two wordless lions along with him. This time the black panther was not smiling smugly as before, but his expression was more stern, and the paws adorned with golden rings still upon his sides, silk sleeves falling upon them.

"Your time is up, Tahir," he spoke to the wolf seated on his chair, "speak your mind."

The hunched man turned to look at the one speaking to him, his eyes glazed, his tail limp between his legs behind him.

"Yes?" the wolf mumbled, his tongue thick.

"What is the word?" the black panther demanded.

The wolf let out a gurgling breath, wiped his muzzle with his paw, and sniffled.

"Whatever you want," he sounded dismissive. "Just..."

The black panther's smile returned. The poppy extract mixed into the wine seemed to have tamed the wolf-ram to a degree that he was no longer threatening to end his own life as an alternative to his service for the Master. His eyes were dull and his movements slow, meaning that he had become more than amenable, without being reduced into a sleeping daze. That pleased the black cat.

They always came around in the end, he thought.

He had as well.

He gave commands to the lions before he moved to stand directly in front of the wolf-ram, slumped on his seat and breathing heavily.

"You'll please our Master well," the black cat told the wolf, "you will do as he tells you to do...he knows what he wants and he will take it, too...he is not cruel..."

His voice was smooth, crooning, almost a soft babble while he spoke to the wolf-ram...even reached to touch the furs on his hair, over the curled horns that protruded from his temples.

"...you are a beautiful young man...he will be most pleased..." the black cat purred.

He spoke an order to the lions, who flanked the wolf-ram and pulled him up by his underarms, and walked him over towards the table where the equipment they had laid down earlier still awaited. The black panther followed, seemingly keen to observe everything there was to do, without doing any of the work himself.

"You can wash yourself with the water...it is is no longer particularly warm but it'll do for that. Take the towel, and wash yourself."

Aiden was beyond complaining about the commands. There was a fuzziness around his mind, and a quiet, soft whisper in his ear told him that if he complied, he would avoid further violence upon him, which would allow him to plot his eventual escape at peace and without the danger of being punished.

The water felt cool, dribbling over his thick fur. There was a spicy scent to it...or was it flowers? He couldn't decide. It was difficult to think, with the water, the scents, the black panther's smooth voice.

"...and he will be doing it often, he is a cat, after all..."

The wolf-ram wasn't sure what the panther meant, but he didn't really care, either.

The lions came, bringing more water, and once again mixing it with milk and some powder in a pail from which the cloudy fluid was placed onto the large klyster syringe.

"Lie down on your side," the black panther told him.

The soldier did, and grunted only softly when a slickness was pressed under his tail, followed by the blunt nozzle of the syringe pushing into his rear.

"Milk and pepper...it'll make sure you are completely empty and clean..." the black panther murmured.

Aiden clenched his eyes shut when the warm fluid flowed inside him, a bizarre, heated sensation in his loin that was unlike anything he had ever felt. Almost immediately it was followed by pains and growls in his bowels, enough to make him groan and press his paws over his belly.

"Oughhh..."

The black panther issued another command and a pail was put down into place to catch the runny release, again and again, as the lions administered further milk into the wolf whom then expelled it. He felt exhausted, and vaguely dirty, by the time simple water was introduced into his rear, and it flowed out as clear as it had entered. Afterwards he felt a finger push in, and something was spread onto his rear, leaving a damp sensation under his tail.

"All clean now," the black panther announced.

The lions pulled the wolf-ram up and and powdered him with a strange, scentless dust that was brushed into his fur by their quick paws, using several combs and brushes at once while the purring black panther watched the nude male get preened in such a fashion.

"You are splendid..." the black man stated, "I could very well see you become a favorite among the harem...as long as you make yourself...obliging and amenable..."

The cat laughed, humorless and rough, before issuing orders to the lions. They procured a length of silk they wrapped around the unresisting wolf-ram's waist as a kind of a loincloth, then thrown over one shoulder before it was secured down with a small brass pin near the base of his tail. The brief apparel left most of his body visible, his fur oddly shiny now thanks to the treatments, lingering with a soft scenting.

"Yes...just enough secrets...just enough promise..." slurred the black panther, "I think you are ready. Come. The Master has been bathed and is eager for his new entertainment."

They departed as a four, the wolf-ram flanked on each side by one of the tall lions, the black panther ahead of them. They walked through atriums filled with sunlight and fountains, past doors guarded by men with spears and precious little expression upon their muzzles...past screens with women hiding behind them and peering through the ornate panels upon the new man being escorted through the cool halls of the palace waking up into a new morning.

The room's windows crossed into the ceiling and opened into a large enclosed garden where peacocks roamed along the greenery, the light painting the interior with stripes of gold. Divans, chairs, pillows, decorated screens, chests of carved wood, precious objects of art on display, it was truly the room of a prince, perhaps.

Their entrance roused what first seemed to be simply a spread...but the mound of silk moved and a man stepped onto his paws, of considerable height and tall build, as tall as the wolf-ram, Aiden thought dully to himself, as the man made himself known. He was a lynx, mottled furs and ears pointed in the ends and decorated with little brown tufts of fur. He too only wore a simple length of silk, about his shoulders so that it hung loosely about him and was held together by a silk cord around his waist.

The three men he had entered with bowed, deeply, none deeper than the black panther, his nose almost touching the floor. He spoke a rapid burst of something in his unknown tongue,from which Aiden could only make out the word 'Tahir' repeated, his slave name, upon which the lynx looked at him with piercing yellow eyes. He spoke something in return, before the lions and the black panther bowed again, and moved to the side of the room, standing side by side.

Now he looked at the wolf-ram again, with curious, deeply interested eyes. A rumble rose from his chest...and when he walked, the steps were light and almost noiseless, upon the rugs.

They were almost nose to nose when the man spoke, his voice higher in pitch than perhaps could have been expected, and decisively feline in nature, as he spoke in unbroken words.

"Tahir...finally we meet," his words were understandable, and gently pronounced over his tongue. Was he purring? The drowsy wolf-ram was not sure. It was all a blur.

"I am Masur, the Vizier of the Sultan," the lynx said, "I am his humble servant, and for you...I am your Master...your Rais. That is what you shall call me...Rais...do you understand, Tahir?"

The Vizier looked into the wolf-ram's eyes for a long while, seeking acknowledgement to his statement. His curious gaze met that of the wolf, the eyes that were heavy and struggled to stay fully open and concentrated on the sight of the large man in front of him.

"Your...Rais...Tahir..." the Vizier repeated. "Answer me."

The earlier perfect smoothness of his voice had been replaced with an edge of ire, one that made the wolf-ram's tail rustle behind him. It drove the message across, making him react in such a visceral manner.

"R...Rais?" the wolf-ram tried.

"Yes...that is right..." said the Vizier, "Rais...say it again."

"Rais..." the soldier rasped.

The lynx raised one paw and pressed the firm pads against the wolf-ram's muzzle. Aiden's breath hitched, but he did not turn his head away, nor otherwise denied the touch the Vizier seemed to be interested in. He did not linger, simply running his fingers over the wolf-ram's jawbone, to his chin, where he removed his paw after a brief brush of his thumb against the soldier's lower lip.

"I can see a lot of fire...good," the Vizier said. "Good. The kind that rarely burns this bright after everything...necessary..wonderful. Quite wonderful."

The lynx stepped back and observed the still man for a moment, before he began to move, slowly, circling the wolf-ram like a prey. Aiden did not move. He did not have the strength left to balk under the scrutiny, of the eyes that were the color of amber, of speckled spice, deep set in the mottled face. It was impossible to read much from his face, the countenance of a man who knew how to hide everything within and only reveal it when it was prudent, or absolutely safe.

"Let's see..." the Vizier spoke, suddenly, his paw dropping onto the clasp holding Aiden's sash in place.

The wolf-ram tensed. The lynx's fingers manipulated the small metal pin and let it fall down to the floor along with a swath of the cloth. The cat tugged on it further to remove even the rest, dropping to Aiden's feet and onto the floor. The Vizier stared, from Aiden's chest to his legs, still relatively toned despite his inactivity, naturally broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped to show his strength, and his build.

The cat looked with extra curiosity at the wolf-ram's empty sheath, and smirked.,

"Hmmyes...yes...this was necessary too..."

He stepped into the wolf-ram's personal space and grabbed his testicles into his paw, holding them as he came nose to nose with the suddenly very tense, shaking male. His nuts were still in his grip, heavy in his palm, cupped relatively gently into his fingers.

"Do you wish to know why I wanted one like you, Tahir?" the lynx whispered. "Do you crave that answer to explain why you even exist? Why that filthy slaver Harith was told to look for someone who would please me?"

He gave the nuts in his palm a tug and a twist, causing the wolf-ram to gasp, to bare some teeth. It was not intensely painful, but being handled in such a fashion by a man...the very male who was also directly responsible for Aiden's loss of manhood...it made his head ache, even under the strange haze that made it difficult for him to compose his thoughts, to even walk, really, by this time, for the swimming sensation under his ears.

"I wanted one like you...strong and with much fire...fire that can never be tamed anymore...indeed...the effect is...even more dramatic than I envisioned..." the lynx said, eyeing the fold of empty fur and skin at the apex of the wolf-ram's loins."Hmmmm..."

The cat turned his head about and called out a command, which prompted the two lion slaves to move forward, to step over to where the Vizier and his latest acquisition were standing. The lions settled a few feet away and remained standing, their faces impassive, awaiting for their Master's next word.

"You see..Tahir...there are...many different kinds of eunuchs..." the lynx murmured, before another command was given in the words Aiden could not understand.

This prompted the lions to act, wordlessly, removing their silks so that they suddenly stood there naked. Their faces still did not betray a hint of emotion nor feeling, they were simply obeying their orders to show themselves as their Master commanded.

"These two, I hear, were taken as very young to be trained as servants of the highest rank," the lynx said," their...parts were removed with a hot blade...they bear little scars and no memory of it...look at them..."

Aiden stared at their impassive faces, with their blank expressions, and also noted, briefly, that their odd postures seemed to be the result of them having very long legs and arms that prompted a slouch of sorts. Their sheaths were small and understated, barely noticeable protrusions from their loins.

"...entirely innocent to knowledge of the carnal kind, really..." the lynx chuckled. "At least before they were put to serve, but they have no cravings, they have never known them..."

Aiden tried to look away from the two defiled slaves, but did not seem to have that option, judging by a severe twitch of the corner of the Vizier's maw when the wolf-ram tried to.

"Nasir!" the Vizier yelled.

The black panther, the one Aiden had already learned to hate in his own way, stepped forward, remaining near the two now naked lions.

"Rais," the black panther bowed deeply in front of his Master.

The lynx gave the dark a command, upon which he pushed a paw into a sleeve out of which a bottle was procured, the black cat smirking so broadly that his white teeth were showing brightly from his soot-coloured face. The lynx received the bottle upon his palm and held it there, looking at the wolf-ram again.

"Indeed...Nasir!"

"Rais?" the black cat's tone was questioning now.

The lynx moved with the swiftness of a predator, truly, grabbing the black panther's arm before he had a chance to react to it, and the bottle was pressed onto his face by the Vizier's other paw. Nasir's ears flattened and his tail made a sudden jump, and a quick growl escaped from his throat which was then followed by a deep hiss from the lynx, whose paws withdrew from the black panther's person.

"A little show for you, Tahir, to let you know what your place truly is," the lynx told Aiden.

The black panther sniffled, snorted and huffed, breathing rapidly. The Vizier turned upon him and uttered what sounded like a single word for Aiden's untrained ears. The black panther's ears certainly did not perk up over hearing the Vizier's statement, a command, the wolf-ram was sure, as the black panther bowed again. Aiden thought he could smell something pungent in the air, but his brain refused to identify it.

In front of his very eyes, the black cat removed his clothing, with measured slowness. His garments were finer than those of the others, to show his position, but even then again, he too, Aiden realized, could be at a moment's notice told to lose them at the Vizier's perverted desire. The black cat's body was slight, though of normal build unlike the lions and their curious body shapes, even for Aiden's eyes. The pouch between the black cat's legs, exposed into view, seemed to be there as well...not cut and left with only emptiness, like the two lions standing in attention still. His sheath, however, seemed not too different from Aiden's own mutilated body - he could see the glint of metal, the curve of a ring passing through the skin there.

The cat was looking at his feet, avoiding the eyes of the others in the room, but the lynx seemed to not want to have any of that. He gripped the black cat's muzzle and held his head up, while the other moved down onto his sheath, causing the senior slave to let out a yowl as he was handled roughly. The lynx's fingers moved up and down on his sheath in a rapid pumping motion, and then to tug on the skin down, to reveal some pink skin - his cock, obviously hard now, straining against the sheath that covered it, though forced to remain within its confines by the ring of metal that pierced the tip of his member and made sure that it could not truly come out of his sheath.

"Nasir was a gift from the Sultan," the lynx said," a nobleman...once...his family fell into ill favor with the Sultan's kin and their bloodline was to be...banished..."

The black male rumbled, but did not speak, even though he was obviously in discomfort, from the painful erection he was displaying under the lynx's grip.

"...so they put his nuts between two stones and..." the lynx detailed.

Even Aiden gasped at the description. The black panther's eyes seemed defiant, even while being stared down by the lynx who held him by his grip.

"...and it was sufficient, for most part, to make that be past him...although under the right circumstances, right...impulses can still be aroused..."

He squeezed hard on the black panther's cock, causing the flesh to strain, painfully, as obvious by the clenching of tendons and muscles in his neck even if he struggled to keep his face void of display of his utter discomfort.

"Hence, this is necessary..." the lynx tapped the ring piercing with his fingertips, which clearly caused even further painful feelings to go through the once smug slave's body, "to maintain...standards, with the harem. He has no need for his prick...it is now as useless as his broken nuts..."

He let go of the black cat's sheath but gave a rapid tug upon the shriveled tescticles in their sac between their legs. Nasir, the slave master, groaned and doubled over, left to retch on his misery while the Vizier dropped the glass bottle into one of his paws and moved away from the gasping black-furred male, turning to face Aiden. The wolf-ram felt vaguely nauseous, imagining if such a pain would fall upon him. He'd been kicked in his nuts before, the sensation was nothing one forgot, even when drunk from wine and poppies.

"But you..." said the lynx, now eyeing the wolf-ram's own pursed sheath, "...you won't be having that problem...no...no unwanted...what is that word...tumescent?"

"I don't...know what that word means," Aiden mumbled.

The lynx chuckled.

"I hope you'll be something very special for me..." the Vizier said, "a man to fuck, with the lust of a filthy concubine in heat and with no cock in sight to ease that craving in her cunt..."

The Vizier took obvious pleasure in his atrocious use of Aiden's tongue. His ears flicked cheerfully, and he eyed the wolf-ram, while making his statement.

"W...why..." Aiden slurred.

"Why, what, Tahir?" the lynx questioned. "What justification could I possibly offer for you?"

The wolf-ram blinked.

"Why...why...f....ff...fuck...a...a man?" Aiden asked.

The Vizier snuffled.

"For me, Tahir, the question has always been, 'why not'?" the lynx stated. "An ass, a cunt, I've never seen a difference...though it is a...a different thrill involved in each, I suppose..."

Aiden felt horrified by the man's lack of morality, the utter perversion of every natural impulse gathered in this single being, standing in front of him, eye to eye with him, with a dark, lustful expression over his face, and the stench of rut lingering in the air of the room.

"...to really ask it is like asking you why you want to breed a cunt..." the Vizier said, "it is that simple...really...perhaps you will understand one day...perhaps indeed..."

The wolf-ram swallowed wearily.

"I don't...I don't...think.." he said.

The lynx put his paw onto the soldier's bare elbow and squeezed it, a firm touch upon the man's body.

"It is not about thinking...Tahir...slaves do not think...slaves only...act..."

The lynx's cruel tone carried even more weight when he moved behind the wolf-ram, putting paws upon his shoulders and roughly pushed himself onto Aiden's back, his teeth finding the soldier's shoulder. The sudden bite made the man gasp and growl, his tail flying, his head turning - but the strong paws gripping him stopped him, and a rough, dangerous hiss stopped him.

"Do...not...move..." the Vizier warned.

The soldier did not move. His drowsy head and heavy limbs offered no resistance, his will locked inside the sudden prison of his head, the darkness lingering on the edges and the heavy, invisible chains dragging his arms and legs down towards the floor. The Vizier held onto him and pressed his body onto the soldier's, muscles and silk, and heat, pressing onto the nude man's back.

"Nasir!" the Vizier growled.

The raggedly breathing man walked awkwardly over to where the two stood, and Aiden could see him hand over the small brown glass bottle for the lynx. The bottle was uncorked and suddenly the strongest scent was smeared over his nose by the lynx's paw, the fingers held close, almost covering the holes through which he breathed.

"Smell," the Vizier hissed. "Deep...now..."

The wolf-ram did, taking a huge breath through his nosepad. He was struck by the musk, and almost coughed, halfway through, but the insistent fingers pressed onto his nostrils.

"Breathe, Tahir" crooned the lynx, grinding his hips firmly against the wolf-ram's rear, "it'll make things...easier..."

It was impossible for him not to do as he was told, and the musk flowed deep into his nose, filling his muzzle. He knew it, he did, he was not innocent enough so as to be entirely without knowledge of these kinds of things. The musk was that of a female in heat - the drippings of a moist, open hole of a female, ready to be bred, filled with...cock...made to receive the seed of a male in the hopes of bringing offspring, in the burst of lust that nature had created to ensure that such an act would take place, by making the female almost irresistible for the man's own nature, the need to breed and put forth his seed.

Even against his best judgment, even with his body clouded by the wine and draught, the wolf-ram's instincts were not to be dulled. Blood and heat rushed into his loins, a reflex as it was, and the stump of his lost member became painfully engorged with blood, the scar once burnt shut with a hot iron straining under the stress of his body trying to make him hard again despite the fact that his manhood was no longer there.

The intense rutting musk affected him thoroughly. It hardened the wolf-ram's nipples, made his breathing deeper, distracted him from the feeling of the foreign sensation of the man behind him. He had been devoid of any kind of touch, kind, harming, his own, or someone else's, that even such an approach seemed to be affecting his highly strung body.

They stood there for a long moment, until the paw was finally withdrawn, and the lynx let out a deep breath he had apparently been holding. Resonant, tinged with a purr, the Vizier remained close and nuzzled the wolf-ram's, shiny furs.

"You are...exquisite..." the cat whispered, "I will enjoy you..."

His paws roamed the wolf-ram's body, feeling the groomed furs, the muscled chest, singling out the sheath with its swollen stump - even the ring on the tip felt hot, under his palm, the wolf-ram tensing as he was touched in such an obscene manner.

"You are beautiful..." the Vizier's voice was even more slurred than before, "I like beautiful things...owning them..fucking them...and I haven't had anything quite as thrilling as you in a very long time..."

Again, the lynx bit the wolf-ram's neck, spreading his saliva there, marking the soldier with his scent, like his natural instinct was, to signal that the man was his property now. He pawed along the arms that were tensing under the intrusive touch

"You have no idea how desireable you are, Tahir..."

Aiden wanted to complain - he was not Tahir, he wasn't the lynx's property, nor meant to be touched like this, not to be approached - not to be held like this by the man's firm, strong arms while he was humping the wolf-ram intently.

"N...no...no.." Aiden mumbled with his dry maw.

"There is no choice," the Vizier grunted.

The soldier might've once been stronger than the feline behind him, but his strength had waned through imprisonment, hunger, weariness, shock and the intoxicating substances he had consumed to calm himself down so as not to lash out at his captor at the palace, and now, having trouble even standing, he didn't have a chance of resisting the Vizier's advance. The lynx half-pushed, half-walked the wolf-ram over to a divan sofa, backless, padded with leather and fabric and embroidered in gold, a precious-looking thing with carved legs. The cat gave the small of Aiden's back a shove and sent the male down onto the sofa - it was very firm, with little give under the leather, which meant that the big man landed with a relative thump. His knees and his swollen sheath collided with the bench-like couch and sent shocks of pain through his body, making him moan and groan. His head was swimming by now, and his attempts to raise himself from the couch were met by his arms giving out and even sending his muzzle to slam down onto the bench, almost to hang over the side like his legs did for most part.

"Ughh..."

He could hear the noise of the cat moving behind him, somewhat vaguely so, but it was there, a shuffle, a rustle of cloth and steps, a few words in that gibberish these heathens spoke, sharp and clipped and impossible for Aiden to decipher.

When he felt paws land on his back, he didn't need to be told what was going to happen. He knew that the other slaves had warned him of it, they'd prepared him for it, with their oils and klyster and with the wine he didn't know had even been spiked with the milk from the poppies, the kind that was known to make one sleepy and dull the pain. Aiden's head felt heavy and he didn't have the strengthy nor will to look at his captor, the Vizier whom now stood on the side of the couch, with a vicious smile over his thin lips.

The Vizier was nude, having dropped his clothes and then told the nude lion slaves to collect them. They were just returning to their places. drawing eyes from the Vizier to look at their rumps while they moved into position on the sidelines, by the black panther who still appeared uncomfortable and possibly even in pain from the previous rough treatment of his already broken nuts.

"A special event like this needs an audience, does it not?" the lynx spoke to his slave master, Nasir, once again flanked by the nude lions who now held the Vizier's silks in their paws and awaited for further orders from their Master.

"Yes, Reis," the black cat said.

The lynx stood in front of them unabashed, a body of mottled furs, of muscle, a tight curve to his rear and his considerably sized member standing up in its curved glory. He was a dusky pink, with numerous rows of barbs especially concentrated on the tip, an aggressive-looking cock, if any. It was fully out of its sheath and was highlighed by the curls of fur about his groin, and glistened in the firelight with his natural, musky fluids. It was the sight of a man obviously very proud of his body, and displayed that with his very pose, in front of his little crowd.

He gripped the wolf-ram's hips and squeezed at them, feeling the supple flesh under his palms.

"Wonderful...watch...you might learn a few things to do with your asses..."

The lynx's fingers wrapped around the wolf-ram's tail and dragged it up to reveal his most private of areas, furs still somewhat slick from water and oil that had been applied on him.

"Such a lovely, clean man..." the Vizier sniffed audibly, "shivering with need...poor thing..."

Aiden could hear the cat speak again, this time in words he could understand, though the content seemed to make little sense. The paws moved about him, feeling his hips, tail, even tugging on his poor testicles, been made redundant of their only way of release. That touch made his teeth bare when his upper lip curled away from his teeth, but it was only a brief move. He was simply too tired, too dazed to act much, even under the angry manipulation of his body by the lynx's paws.

"Every man's first time taking it up the ass like a bitch should be special...and I am sure yours shall be...unless you have already tasted the love of this kind...which I doubt...you do not seem the type...and I know the type..." the lynx snorted with little humor in his voice. "But you'll learn..."

The Vizier thrust fingertips against the wolf-ram's hole and forced out a deep grunt when the pursed flesh complained under the touch. It only seemed to thrill the cat more, who let out a noise of his own, deep and rough.

"..maybe even like it, eventually...even Nasir can take it like the finest sluts nowdays..."

The lynx glimpsed the humiliated black cat briefly before he concentrated his attention fully at the wolf-ram in front of him. He could never be tired of moments like this, truly breaking in a new servant, a fresh member of his always-growing harem of men and women alike, to play for his whims whenever he desired.

"...likely not as sloppy as your little cunt, Nasir," the lynx rumbled before he moved forward once more.

Aiden let out a gasp at the sensation of hot, barbed flesh against himself, how it pressed and prodded at his gates. His muscles clenched automatically under the touch, shocking in its alienness. It felt violating, even if nothing else was happening yet, his body knew what was going to happen, somehow it knew, his mind...his mind was going somewhere else, perhaps, past the haze that slowed his thoughts to a crawl.

"This will not be very gentle, but do not worry...I do not enjoy breaking your bodies...any more than necessary to gain obedience...and I only need that one thing, Tahir...absolute obedience..."

The male's hole was not relaxed, but the lynx pushed in nonetheless, helped by the oil the slaves had put into him before. The muscles resisted for a few moments, but the clenchy-teethed cat's repeated attempts at the rumbling wolf-ram's asshole were soon gaining ground, as he could feel the hole start to give.

"You'll learn to take it well...just take it..." the lynx grimaced. "Learn to...take...Tahir..."

The wolf-ram's claws began to poke out of his paws, but gained no ground, his arms hanging weakly off the edge of the divan. He felt the constant pressing and rubbing under his tail and tried to lift a leg to kick whoever was there away, the lynx...that god-forsaken heathen -

"...and you will..." hissed the cat, pushing once again.

That was how the lynx deflowered the wolf-ram sprawled on the divan sofa in his private boudoir. The intoxicated, broken wolf-ram took it up the ass with a deep, bucking thrust from the lynx' strong hips, paws gripping tight onto the wolf-ram's sides while the standing cat penetrated into his rear, muttering incomprehensible things under his breath.

It burned. It hurt, even if it seemed to be happening somewhere else, to someone else - the wolf-ram wasn't sure what was going on, just feeling heat and pressure and hearing the growls from behind him. He couldn't move -

"Sweet, sweet Tahir..."

The lynx growled dirtily and took the wolf-ram, almost fully in the clasping heat that was in the midst of uncontrolled contractions of whatever muscles were hidden inside the wolf-ram's rear. A myriad of new sensations must've been going through the soldier lying face down on the divan while the lynx hunched over him, impaling the wolf-ram on his cock.

"Now you will bring me pleasure and joy with your body," the Vizier said, "today, and again...as long as the sun rises..."

The determination in his voice translated into his actions, too, the grip of paws, the movement of his cock through the hard clench of Aiden's rear. The slick noise drew their ears, and the resulting grunts filled the room, a few back and forth motions taking the lynx deep inside his new slave again, testing the waters.

"...so very tight and splendid...perfect..." the lynx rumbled, sounding approving, though for Aiden's ears, it was a distant whisper from somewhere away.

The Vizier planted his paws onto the divan and leaned forward, to complete his domination of the wolf-ram's body by pressing his own against the large man's. Chest to back, growling, saliva dribbling from his muzzle in another act of making, his hips moved again, thrusting into the young soldier's ass, cock slamming into him with every movement.

"Aghhhhh..." the wolf-ram's moan was throaty and deep.

"..tight...fuck..." the lynx declared.

It continued, slow, steady pumping, the Vizier's ass flexing as he drove himself into his dazed slave's rear.

Aiden's rump was aflame with sensations. The barbs were everywhere, impossible to tell apart from one another, but rasping against the walls of his rectum throughout the rough, unnatural mating of their two bodies. He was truly being buggered, the lynx's hips slamming the wolf-ram's as soon as he decided that he was deeply seated and not in the danger of falling away from the new harem member's ass.

The Vizier took his prey hard. He cared little for anything but himself and rammed himself in, until his balls touched those of the wolf-ram, his only piece of masculinity that still remained, bruised yet, and then the lynx withrdrew, only to return deep inside the wolf-ram's rear with another firm thrusts.

He clawed on Aiden, hard but not drawing blood, just another cascade of sensations to add to the strange moving fullness inside the wolf-ram's ass. He was breathing hard, still slowly in comparison to the rapid panting of the lynx lying on top of him, taking the male in his decadent sodomite pleasure of thrusting his cock into another man's ass. The lynx was sweating and it only made his musk stronger, filling the nose of the male he'd taken as his partner, slave, servant, toy, pleasure mate, many things all rolled into one fur whom he lusted after, having done so first as an idea, and now, finally, in the flesh.

And he enjoyed the flesh to its fullest, fucking the hole he imagined would never be quite as tight and...complaining of the presence of his stout cock. Come the next time, the body would remember what had happened and would know how to react, at least to a degree, even if it would not yet be entirely accustomed to such an activity for quite some time yet. The lynx did not have words to express his feelings of desire at the moment, nor a great deal of wish either. He simply wished to mark and possess the man, the soldier, he had heard, from the battlefields of the Balkans where the great armies still marched into the heretic lands of north and west, further and further along.

His own conquest proceeded. He bit onto the wolf-ram's neck and hammered his ass, putting his cock deep into the soldier's asshole. Buggery was not a rare pleasure, but very rarely the holes were as delicious as the one he fucked now, full of such conflict.

Aiden laid still, unable to move, speak, nor do much. His body rocked and tingled with sensation his mind could not name, and hence he decided not to think about it. He would endure...survive, and get his own share. Let the lynx become complacent -

"...ahhh...fffffffffffff..." hissed the cat, drooling and biting over one of the wolf-ram's shoulder.

The fuck continued, hard, rapid thrusting that made the woodwork of the divan creak and slammed the wolf-ram repeatedly onto the thin padding. His bony hips were to be bruised by the time it was over, and a dull ache spread from his rear, under his tail, his hole still occasionally clamping down on the quickly moving thick pole spreading him open, the rough cat still working himself through his own lustful activities.

He muttered obscenities in his own language, bit, fucked, clawed. He messed the furs that had been brushed so pleasantly by the slaves before. He worked the wolf-ram's ass until it ached and leaked oil and a frothy fluid he had created with his constant thrusting. The lynx fucked until he felt himself tiring, and still he went going, seemingly endless in stamina, until finally, after what felt like hours for the poor immobilized wolf-ram, the lynx's hissing reached a crescendo and he jammed himself in.

The Vizier went completely rigid when he came, his cock not moving, his body still and tense over the wolf-ram's body while his seed poured forth into Aiden's rear. The heated fluid washed the wolf-ram's sore insides and added to the bizarre, nameless tingle he could feel, the one that seemed to have kept his stump firm and sore under his heavy body throughout his violation.

Dark, white and brownish drops fell from his rear when the lynx finally withdrew himself, breathless and exhausted.

"I should have you suck me clean, Tahir, but it it not wise to trust you with that yet..." the Vizier grumbled darkly. "Nasir!"

The black panther's earlier humliation was to be nothing in comparison to being told to kneel and take the lynx's messy member into his maw, to suckle on it and get it rammed into his throat and muzzle and until he was gargling...faintly heard by Aiden, who simply laid quietly on the divan, trying to steady his breaths and dare to drop his tail down to cover his rear again.

"Such a splendid fuck, Tahir, you will be a marvel," the Vizier spoke, one paw still holding the black panther's muzzle down to his pubic fur, "the envy of them all...slaves and free men...real men alike...ah...yes..."

With that statement, he withdrew from his gasping slave master, retrieved clothing from the two nude lions after a few snapped commands, and left the room, with all of his slaves in tow, except for Aiden, left to lie on the divan in his daze

He did not know how long he laid there, barely conscious to the world, to the soreness of his body, to the pain. His thoughts, nor his body moved much, not until he heard the creak of a door, and approaching footsteps.

"You new one?" a voice, speaking somewhere near.

Steps, and then paws upon his body, touching his rear, a sniffling in the air.

"The Vizier took you, yes?" the voice repeated.

Aiden didn't speak. He was too tired.

"Can you move?"

Aiden grumbled.

"Must be...not know word," the voice said," this Samir. Speak little of your language. Learned from another like you...have see many...slave...like you..."

The wolf-ram groaned again. Yet another slave, or a servant, sent to defile him further? He had touched his backside, after all. That was followed by a sloshing of water.

"Will wash. Good."

He didn't move when a wet cloth appeared and began to stroke up and down his rear.

"Who...you? This Samir? Hear there new...you new?"

Aiden didn't know what to say.

"Makes...sleepy...that drink...no like much..." the voice repeated. "Give to new ones...some old one too..."

The wolf-ram didn't even resist when the mysterious speaker washed under his tail with the cloth. He didn't seem to linger there too long.

"...you new...Vizier like new. Like new ones...me once new yes...he like...he like lot...play lot..."

Aiden's ears flicked weakly. The wet, warm cloth moved.

"...play lot with you too...Vizier like...Reis like..."

"Reis..." Aiden moaned, quietly.

"Bring drink? Wine? Food? Clothing?" the voice spoke behind him, still outside his blurry field of vision. "Serve you all ways, new one. Told to."

He could only manage a groan.

"Will bring later. Must go attend now. Will come again."

The voice disappeared, and the door closed.

Aiden let out a long held whimper and curled onto his side on the divan.


*

Thank you for reading! I hope you had an interesting time reading, and I look forward to your comments!