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The Carlisle Estate

Part 2: Rude Awakening

The Carlisle Estate weathered the storm, and come morning, the gray of the clouds were breaking to spackle the manor with the glistening rays of dawn. The first of the servants had gotten to work preparing the master’s morning bath and breakfast, but the workers, the men that amassed the master’s wealth, were roused by the sound of mourning doves and robins.

Aspen wasn’t so lucky.

The stallion made mare was awoken by the splash of cold water. The horse’s eyes shot open as he nickered and snorted out his nose causing droplets to spray from his nostrils.

“That’ll be all,” a Doberman at the door waived off another servant holding a now empty bucket.

“The fuck!” Aspen shouted and stood up, the water running down his body.

“Well,” the Doberman didn’t even flinch, he merely cocked a brow. “I needed to wake you up and you were positively filthy. What other way would have achieved both at the same time?”

Aspen balled his fist up and swung it at the man, but instantly his body froze, his muscles cramping in the opposite direction, causing him to stumble to a stop. The reality of what happened to him came flooding back as he felt the warmth of that brand on his ass cheek keeping him from striking the Doberman. He stepped back, his breath labored as the events of the day before flooded his mind. He had a growing sense of dread as he realized the lack of something heavy pulling at his loins. His hand went down and he almost sobbed and moaned as he found his mare maker gone but his rough fingers played with the petals of his loins.

“Master did say you’d be an unruly one,” the Doberman adjusted his glasses with his gloved hands. “Now why don’t you pat yourself down and get a move on. We’re already behind schedule.”

The Doberman handed him a towel, the fabric thick and pristine. Aspen snatched it and pulled it to himself for both warmth and decency. Normally he would stand with his dick out proud, loving how people shrank away from him in inferiority. He covered himself up and the Doberman sighed.

“You know how to clean and dry yourself? I wouldn’t want to assume you’re a simpleton, but if the master wishes to have someone with the wits of a coat rack I could have just saved him the money and dressed up the one in the foyer.”

“Shut up,” Aspen huffed, rage burning away the bloom of fear in his gut. “You fucking freaks are absolutely disgusting! Fix me right now—”

Aspen’s voice hitched in his throat as sudden warmth welled up in his abdomen. It felt so good it hurt. It was like a blade of pleasure stabbed him right below his belly button.

“Master has a grasp of how this kind of magic works,” the Doberman started. “But he has always been so sloppy, ever since he was a young man he had a tough time reeling it in.”

The Doberman walked into the room that appeared to be some sort of stable master’s quarters. A brick house off of the stables with a small bed of hey and an old fireplace with nothing but fresh ashes in it.

“I’d have hoped to have trained him better than this, but his magic is all over you,” the Doberman continued, adjusting his glasses, the lenses glowing with runes as he looked over the horse. “Sloppy form, hastily drawn runes, poor penmanship, truly he is as much a failure as a student as I am a teacher.” The Doberman kicked the door behind him closed with just enough effort for it to gently close on itself. He slowly came over removing his gloves one finger at a time. “You see, what you felt last night was nothing compared to what a real savant can do with proper training and discipline.” The Doberman put his gloves in the breast pocket of his vest, his right hand coming between Aspen’s legs.

“What are you doing, don’t touch me,” Aspen huffed.

“Move your hand,” the Doberman was looking up into the massive stallion’s eyes, easily a full head shorter than the massive cunt man, but bulky and strong in his own way. He wore a suite much like Gage did before, but instead of trousers, he wore the panties similar to what Marco wore.

When Aspen didn’t comply, the canine narrowed his eyes and the stallion felt a sudden bloom of warmth in his abdomen again. Aspen gasped, his fingers going away, only to be tenderly replaced by the Doberman’s skilled ones. It was like his hand was made for handling pussy, the massive stallion’s legs shaking as the dog’s fingers slipped inside him, his thumb lightly petting his clit.

“That’s a good boy,” he murred, the word echoing deep into his loins and making his abdomen burn with pleasure. He was starting to sweat, his body shaking from the intensity of it. It was almost like that fucking cougar asshole’s dick plunged into his depths again. “My name is Eric, and I manage all the cunt boys and new recruits on the grounds. When I tell you to do something, you’re going to listen and obey, am I clear on that?”

Aspen was racked with waves of powerful pleasure, those talented fingers slicking in and out of his pussy slowly and methodically. Every time a more powerful wave of pleasure would strike him, those fingers would adjust instantly to tease and press on those sensitive spots. Aspen choked back gasps in his throat as he grit his teeth, not wanting to admit he was enjoying this. He couldn’t, it wasn’t pleasure, it was some fucked up magic trick! A really, really good magic trick.

“Aspen?” Eric cocked a brow, another stab of pleasure struck him deep in his core, but this time it didn’t back off. “Do you understand?”

Eric’s fingers slipped easier in and out of that puffy peach, each of his knuckles soaked in the heat laced juices of that needy pussy. The slow and methodical sound of dripping pussy slick smacking the dirt floor filled the room like the ticking of a sadistic clock.

“YyYYYes…” Aspen managed to grit through his teeth.

“Good,” Eric pulled his fingers out, whipped them and the juices off like a thick slime trail before pulling his gloves back on. “It’s time to show you your duties here at the estate and we’re already behind. Hurry up and dry yourself off.”

Eric turned and opened the door to leave but paused when the stallion was still standing there dumfounded. Just a single raised brow sent another shot deep into Aspen’s loins, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as that Doberman kept causing his body to flare up with need.

“Each time you disobey or make me wait, your heat will only get deeper,” Eric commented. “Now march!”

Aspen grit his teeth and went to walking, drying himself off as he did so. Eric was giving a speech about how long the estate had been in operation, how many generations had walked these grounds, the origins of it all. Aspen couldn’t have cared less. He was just trying to cover himself up as quickly as he could, his body being cleaned up as he trod his way along the stone path. He would normally roll the towel up and hang it around his shoulders, letting his boys air out on display, but he felt the need to wrap it around his waist instead. If he walked a specific way, it was like the rippling of the fabric was showing a dick swinging beneath that fabric.

“This here, is the kitchen,” Eric gestured as they came in the back, a duo of cunt men in basic clothing working on getting breakfast ready. “This is the servant halls over this way. Now be sure to wipe your hooves. I won’t have you tracking mud on my floors.”

He paused, looking for a place to clean his hooves and Eric turned to look at him. The Doberman rolled his eyes.

“The bucket and cloth, use them please,” he pointed to a pale of water with a rack of rags. He dipped his own feet in the water, then grabbed the cloth, washing his paws and getting any residual dirt off them. “You’ve never set foot in a real manor before, have you?”

“I…not before the floors were put in,” Aspen answered. “I helped build the Ramsey estate. The wood for their dining room was crafted in our shop.”

“Hm,” Eric cocked a brow. “The dining room in that estate is the only room worthy of praise. Glad to know we secured a potentially capable workhand.” The Doberman sighed, pinching the bridge of his muzzle and rubbing his eyes. “Use the cloth like you’re polishing shoes, please.”

“I…sure,” Aspen cleaned his hooves as best he could, any dirt or residual pieces of dried on mud turning the pale of water into a milky brown.

“That’ll do I suppose,” Eric took a cloth and did a quick rub over the stallion’s arm. “Hmm…so it is the color of your fur. With how much you’re dirtying up the towels, I half expected your coloring to be different layers of dirt. Glad to know you’re not as messy as you look.”

“Quiet, you fucking pompous pup,” Aspen growled through clenched teeth.

“Strike a nerve?” Eric adjusted his glasses.

“This coat is the only thing I have left of my dad,” Aspen huffed. “The rest of his life’s work burned down with our shop.”

“My apologies,” Eric sounded less than sincere. “Such a sad story, but know this house is filled with them. You’re not the only one who was dealt a raw hand and given a second chance on this estate. Your tale is hardly unique, and it is far from moving. But you can change the next chapter in your story by making something of yourself here.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Aspen snarled, having tried to play the sympathy card and only getting a bigger one in return.

“They all call me that,” Eric adjusted his glasses. “At the start at least. But we’ll clean your mouth as much as your body here.” He turned and went down the servant’s hall. “All our suits are custom made. You will be fitted next week, for now though you’ll be wearing what is available. Currently, the only things on hand are with the semesters.”

Eric opened a door where several clothes were folded on racks and tables. An empty stool in the center by a table with patterns and designs.

“Looks like they’re out doing other chores. Picking up the slack from my absence I’m sure.” Eric entered the room and pulled something from a pile. It was a set of tinny panties that Aspen didn’t think would fit him regardless if his dick was gone or not.

“The fuck is that?” Aspen demanded.

“Put it on, now,” Eric handed it over. Aspen huffed, but a slight narrowing of Eric’s eyes told him this could get a lot worse. “Listen, I’m sure you’re already deep in your heat. Irritability is one of the symptoms, but if I keep needling you with it, you won’t be good to anyone. We don’t need someone hopping on anything that looks remotely phallic like in the shop. Not again anyway,” Eric pushed himself up on his tip toes, his tail hiked up before he composed himself. “Now put it on before I need to get more forceful.”

“What could you do, you little shrimp,” Aspen huffed, snorting out his nose as he looked down at the Doberman.

“Are you threatening me?” Eric had to hold back a scoff, a hint of a smile creeping into his voice. “I’m sure, even before the Master of the house put that brand on you, I could have you on your knees calling me daddy in a matter of minutes.”

“A lot can happen in a few minutes,” Aspen cracked his knuckles.

“You would have a few minutes,” Eric took his glasses off and stared Aspen dead in the eyes. “If we hadn’t already branded you.”

Aspen gave a deep gasp, his throat feeling raw as he panted, his legs giving out from under him as he fell to his knees.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Eric cupped Aspen’s muzzle and forced him to look into his eyes. They were glowing red with a lustful power. “My glasses keep me from making little unruly skanks like you from dripping all the time. Can you feel it? I’m in your head right now, playing with the folds of your mind.”

Aspen moaned as his pussy dripped, his towel parting to reveal the winking folds of his pussy. It was like a talented tongue was slowly working over his petals, but also in the folds of his brain. His head was ablaze with burning pleasure, and that tongue was a cooling numbness that flittered and flicked over the most burning spots, soothing them, but only making the heat in his loins blaze more. He was hot, his brow glistening as he gulped air.

Then something touched his pussy. Erick had lifted his foot paw, the soft upper side of that paw gently rubbing his pussy, getting his toes slicked with his juices. His thighs shook as Aspen bit down on his tongue to hold back his gasp. It was so intense. Even more so than just a few moments ago. He could feel every hair, every cell of that foot paw brush over his folds, goosebumps running up his abdomen and down his legs as he was played with like a fucking whore.

“The problem is, fingers won’t cut it with this magic,” Eric smirked, his eyes glowing an intense red. “Only dick can make it go away. The only thing that’ll scratch that itch.”

“I’m not a fucking fag,” Aspen snarled.

“Sure you’re not,” Eric cooed through a condescending smirk, his foot paw gently rolling back and forth in tender circles. “You’re not on your knees, a dickless slave, having his pussy played with by another pussy boy, huh? You’re a fucking stud, right? A big dick stallion who demands to spread his wild oats?” Eric fanned his toes so he could gently tweak and pull at that clit, using the hood to sweetly play at that little love button. “Yeah, you’re not some play thing for some other pussy boy, right? I don’t have my glasses on, so maybe this isn’t what it looks like. A little whore moaning on a cunt man’s toes because anything remotely phallic will do when you’re dripping for dick. Even the delicate, manicured foot paws of a fag like me. What would that make you? A fag’s faggot? What’s less than dirt in your eyes? Shit?”

“Fu-Fuck off,” Aspen’s muscles twitched, his back rippling as he tried to hold it together, but it was a losing battle.

“Okay,” Eric pulled away, not far, just enough that his fingers were out of reach, a single strand of pussy juice connecting his toes to those quivering folds.

A deep fear filled Aspen’s guts. The feeling wasn’t getting any less intense. He blinked as he felt those fingers on his muzzle again, those toes sliding up against his pussy.

“Don’t touch me you fucking fag!” Aspen snarled.

“I didn’t move an inch,” Eric smirked putting his glasses back on and moving a quarter step back. Again, so tantalizingly close. Aspen noticed it this time, his back ached like he was trying to hold back a boulder on a mountain slope, he leaned forward, his muzzle sliding into that open palm, his knees shakily moving forward until his pussy was on those beautiful toes again.

“What did you do to me? Why...Why am I like this?”

“You’re dreadfully dimwitted, aren’t you,” Eric said it like it was a compliment. “I never once tried to hide how this works. Normally I like my men big and stupid, but your roll here isn’t going towards our service tops. No, you’re far too skilled to be a pussy drunk Blank Chuck. It’s almost a shame. You and your dick wouldn’t be dry from dawn till dusk, but because of your upbringing, I get to break you into a good beast of labor.”

Eric stepped away, further than just a tantalizing few inches and used a scrap of cloth to clean the pussy juice of his toes before presenting the panties to Aspen.

“Now, put them on, or I’ll stop playing nice,” Eric almost growled.

“No,” Aspen huffed,

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