Ignoble Fates [Commission]
An anonymous commission picking up where Descent Into Dishonor left off. Keep in mind that like the previous installment, this one's fairly grim.
The crash of the gavel on wood cut through the shouting and clamor coming from the crowd as another fate was sealed. Sobha watched as one of her younger sisters was led away while some of the gathered Kosith jeered at the nubile feline. She knew a little of the canines' tongue, but wasn't surprised she couldn't understand the things being shouted at the broken Hatar. She had a good enough ear to pick up the tone, and doubted that she'd ever come across the sort of vulgarities that the young female was being pelted with.
But it was only the common Kosith who were shouting, those who couldn't afford slaves but showed up for the spectacle anyway - a parade of exotic feline slaves, all female and all superb physical specimens. That had been the way the auctioneer had described them to the more serious looking canines, ones who observed with a keen eye and raised their voice only to bid. Ones who didn't balk at the fate of consigning a sentient being to a life of slavery, for it was on the backs of slaves that the Kosith had built their empire.
The Kos behind her urged her forward, keeping a firm grip on the hooked pole caught on a ring in the Hatar's iron collar. Perhaps he'd heard the stories the soldiers had told, of just how many they had lost when they set out to capture end enslave the once proud warrior-priestesses. Sobha had been surrounded by the bodies of dead or dying Kosith when she was finally netted, a small consolation as she took the few steps up to the platform. After all, the canines she slew had fallen in battle while her victory had bought her a life of shame she never imagined possible.
On the platform she could see just how big the crowd was - the spacious marketplace packed with Kosith, both buyers and voyeurs. And as lewd as the cries that had greeted the feline preceding her had been, the chorus that greeted her was worse by far. The Hatar knew why, of course, since she was reminded of the fact since every hobbled step she took pushed some of the mess from between her legs.
The thought was enough to send Sobha's mind careening, and suddenly she wasn't in front of the crowd, but prone on the ground, her head resting against the dirt as rope was tied around each knee and fastened to the rings of her iron collar. With her chest against the ground and her rear in the air she expected to be subjected to yet another rape by a disgusting, knotted canine shaft.
She was surprised when her nose caught the familiar scent - that of a Hatar male. Sobha had mated before, and for a brief moment the musk of a male brought back the memories of those joyous few nights and the beautiful baby boy they had left her with. But as her mind drifted back to the reality she was subject to, the scent suddenly became menacing, terrifying.
"Be still..." the words were spoken in Hatar, in a rumbling but cold and dispassionate voice, just as a strong hand gripped the base of her tail and pulled it up. Cries of anguish had been her companion ever since their defeat, but the one Sobha heard just then had been new and chilling. Form her vantage point she couldn't see what was happening and to whom, but her mind quickly supplied an image when the Hatar's next cry sounded, shaking with what must have been the thrusts of a male into the feline making it.
Sobha folded her ears and clenched her teeth when she felt the pointed tip of the nameless Hatar male wedge between her lips, managing to stifle her own cry as her sex was immediately invaded and the feline mounting her began to piston in and out in a steady, almost practiced rhythm. No sounds came from the male steadily rutting her, and the penetrated female guessed he must have been broken long ago. How else would he consent to sacrilege such as this? Rape was a grievous crime in their culture, but to take a priestess like her by force was unheard-of blasphemy!
And there was a deeper sin being committed here, one that became even more apparent when Sobha's body began to react. It was an instinct so deeply rooted that neither her despair, outrage nor disgust could quell it. This was different than the rutting the Kosith had forced upon them with their alien manhoods. The shaft now sliding in and out of her was studded with tiny barbs, and every time the Hatar behind her pulled out of her they served to stoke the heat burning in Sobha's belly. Although her eyes remained as clenched as her teeth she could feel tears streaming from them, knowing that the sniffing Kos had correctly guessed she was fertile, along with several other of her sisters. They were brought here to be bred, like common cattle - mounted and rutted by these poor wretches even now pumping into their raised behinds.
But it was not the seed of that first rutting leaking from her slit as she stood in front of the leering crowd. That mounting had done its damage, and a Kos doctor had confirmed what the priestess already knew - that there was life growing in her, a child she was doomed to birth into this wretched existence. A design had been painted on her still perfectly flat belly, but the auctioneer had ordered all the pregnant females covered once again. She caught enough to understand that he was concerned that their bodies didn't look soft enough to suggest pregnancy, so he wanted them to have a freshly-bred look when he displayed them for the crowd, hoping it would serve to drive the price up.
She'd had a rudimentary grasp of the Kosith language, and had been forced to learn more during her time in captivity. As she stood naked and broken in front of the jeering crowd, she wished she'd been ignorant of both the words coming from them, and those of the man standing beside her with a gavel in his hand.
Occasionally he would order her to turn or raise her arms as he pointed out any quality he felt would fetch him a better price. He did not balk at hefting one of her breasts to demonstrate their weight and fullness, nor from raising her tail when her back was turned to the mob, a novel indignity even when Sobha was certain she'd been subjected to every degradation conceivable. Even the fresh scars she bore were turned to selling points as the auctioneer insisted that the rod hadn't been spared and that any disobedience was beaten out of the Hatar standing before them.
He opened the bidding and hands or painted fans rose from the crowd every now and again while the Kos at the podium strived to drive the price up. After a while the gavel was in the air, but Sobha found herself being shaken awake before it fell. Not that it changed anything. The gavel had fallen months ago and her fate was sealed, but the scene was one she'd relieved dozens of times in her nightmares.
She was lying on her back on the straw-filled sack that served as her bed with a middle-aged Kos kneeling by her side, her scowling face clear in the light of the lamp beside her. Sobha recognized the wife of the man that had bought her, but wondered what the woman wanted as her sleep-fogged brain tried to make sense of the canine's mutterings. It was still pitch black, so she knew she hadn't' overslept. And if she had she doubted the mistress of the house would have woken her up so gently. Despite the fact that her belly was now gently curved she didn't think for a moment it would have stopped the testy Kos woman from waking her with a kick if she perceived her slave was lazy.
She was still trying to puzzle the irate canine's mutterings in a language that she was still struggling with when she decided to make her intentions plain. Sobha soon found the Kos female throwing one leg on the other side of her head, lowering her now splayed sex towards the Hatar's muzzle. She caught the words 'useless wretch' and thought the almost growling female was referring to her until she realized they were spoken as to indicate a male.
It was only when her mane was grabbed and her mouth pushed violently against the canine gash that she understood the source of her mistress' frustrations. The taste of her master's seed was hardly unfamiliar to her, and it was that which was even now filling her muzzle as the canine straddling her face held her still and began to grind her femininity against her mouth. It would seem that her mate had performed his husbandly duties without bothering to satisfy his lady wife, and Sobha could sense the woman's frustration as she sought release at the Hatar's expense.
The once proud priestess had nether the predilection nor the experience at pleasing other females, but knew she had to make some effort. Her mistress had not approved of her husband's purchase, especially after she'd heard how much he'd spent on Sobha. But since she couldn't take her anger out on her mate, she made sure to do it with the feline he'd brought home. As she dipped her tongue into the cum-slicked canine slit, Sobha knew she could expect no gratitude from the female now riding her muzzle, but she also knew she could expect even more cruelty from the woman if she failed to please her.
The Kos continued muttering even as her voice turned into a growl, alternating between cursing her husband and the 'incompetent' Hatar delving her tongue into her. But despite the fact that her tone remained filled with spite, Sobha could see the woman was breathing harder, the nipples sticking out and stiffening on a modest pair of breasts that rose and fell with every lungful. The feline had quickly cleaned up what her husband had left within her and her tongue was now licking at the canine's own mess. While far from palatable, at least she found the feminine secretions to be less slimy and bitter than what the male Kos had left in there.
She was hardly surprised her husband lacked the stamina to please the bitch even now grinding against her mouth as if she intended to push Sobha's muzzle in. A day had not went by so far that her master didn't mount her, but the Hatar noticed he did seem to avoid doing so where his wife might see them. On one occasion he'd even pulled a fully swollen knot from her, the feline hissing from the searing pain blossoming between her legs as her master quickly tucked his shaft back into his robe. She'd guessed that a male spending some excess energy on a slave would be considered normal, but that things might be different if after such dalliances he didn't have enough to satisfy his mate.
So now they will both use me instead of turning to each other the Hatar thought bitterly as she dove her tongue in and out of the canine sex. The Kos female's spiteful words had faded into low, urgent growls, her grip on the feline's mane becoming painful as she pushed the slave's mouth against her sex. Her licking must have been doing something for her mistress, unless the frustrated canine was getting aroused by the fact that she was abusing her husband's new 'pet'.
The groggy Hatar was taken by surprise when the Kos mounting her face suddenly pushed her between her legs even harder just as the slender thighs closed around her head. The canine femme was almost snarling now, her whole body tensing as Sobha struggled to breathe with her mouth and nose pressed firmly against the canine crotch. She could feel the other female bucking her hips against her muzzle, strangely similar to what her husband would do when he had his cock pushed down Sobha's throat. The slit drooled into her mouth while the canine woman's legs maintained a vise-like grip, loosening only when the Hatar was sure she would pass out.
Her head was released and she lay there gasping for air as her mistress rose on slightly shaky legs, smoothing down her nightgown as she retrieved the lamp and left the panting feline with a mess on her muzzle. Whenever her master took her he'd always offer a degrading compliment in the brief post-coital haze, calling her a 'good slut' or worse, but it seemed that even that was too much of a kindness for the female who'd just used her muzzle to vent her frustrations. Not that it made much of a difference in the nightmare that was Sobha's life.
*******
"Aster!"
The word was shouted loud enough to break through the haze, but not enough to pull Pari out of it. The young Hatar clung to the fog swirling within her head, the blissful lack of thought or sensation that was her only escape from what her life had become. There were other words being thrown at her, but 'Aster' seemed to come up more often than others. It should have some significance, she knew, but it was hard to grasp what sounded like muted gibberish.
The water did what the shouting failed to do, what seemed like a cold deluge crashing against her face as the panicking feline clawed at empty air as if she was in danger of drowning and trying to take hold of anything just to stay afloat. But it wasn't waves she was sinking under, but rather the sheets that she'd become entangled in. The water had come from a nearby vase that had held flowers, the half-wilted blossoms now clutched in the paw of the angry Kos female glaring at her as she stood over her. It was then that Pari remembered that 'Aster' was the new name she'd been given when she was bought by the brothel.
As she fought for air she tried to piece together what had happened before she'd... damn, she'd drifted off again! There had been a client, a somewhat young Kos soldier who'd just been promoted to an officer's rank and had come to the pleasure house to celebrate the occasion. An attractive male, albeit anything but gentle. She had lit the pipe resting at her bedside to relax herself for what she correctly guessed would be a violent rutting. Just a few drags though. But the young canine had a more savage appetite than the middle-aged men Pari usually ended up entertaining, the pent-up husbands that couldn't wait to tie with her before they got too winded. The young Kos had waited so long that the Hatar was sure the swollen knot had torn her, and had taken just a few more drags to ease the pain.
"Awake are you? What have I told you about smoking to much?" the angry old female scolded, the words of the tongue she'd been forced to learn finally falling into place in the feline's still cloudy mind.
"Apologies mistress, it won't happen again..." she muttered mechanically, the first phrase in Kos she'd learned "...but I... that is he..." she said, trailing a hand down to between her legs and brining a paw up to inspect the wet mess. She was surprised to find nothing covering her fingers apart from the canine's copious discharge, the seed feeling almost cold and hinting at how long the Madame had been trying to wake her. Too long! She'd been sure there would be blood down there. After all, the pain was terrible, bad enough to make her reach for her pipe... or had it been?
"This..." the stern Kos said, holding the long stem with the by now extinguished bowl. "...is a privilege, something to help you work. Not something to abuse to the point that you pass out while with a client. Do you realize how lucky you are that I bought you? You could have ended up in some flea-bitten shack full of wretched whores there to be used while they lasted and then sold off for a pittance. This is a house with a reputation, and a select clientele. And it was in order to preserve our reputation that I had to give that man's money back with my apologies."
Pari just lowered her muzzle to the floor at that statement. Even though she'd been among the youngest of the sisters taken, her body and mind had been shaped for a life as a warrior priestess. The Kos woman berating her would have been no challenge even in Pari's weakened state, but that pride and fierceness was something she'd left in another life. It had been drained from even the elder sisters during their gruesome trek to this city, and even further during their time in the slave-pens. Pain meant little for the ascetic felines, but the Kosith handlers had been clever.
Failure to obey would be punishable by a day in the stocks, their bodies free for the use of any passer-by. Some of the more temperamental sisters had been put in those contraptions the moment they got to the city, and just remembering the sight of them when they were brought back made the young Hatar's chest tighten. They had been some of their strongest and fiercest warriors, and they had to be dragged back - their will broken by their ordeal and the seed of countless males staining the fur of their thighs.
"I... I will do better mistress. Please give... please give me a chance." She managed to get out, still stumbling around the strange tongue she'd been forced to learn. Pari knew that even though her life seemed like hell it could easily get quite worse.
"You'd better. I have a client that has requested you for this evening and paid for the whole night. Use the day to get some rest, but I expect you to be bathed and perfumed by sundown. I'm tempted to take this..." she said, still gripping the long pipe "...away, but he is an Aroh. If you're to take that bovine cock of his without yowling like a feral street cat, you'll need a little bit to relax. But mark my words - if he walks out of your room with anything other than praise and a promise to return again you are done with smoking! You'll be confined to your room while your body purges, and if you make it through the shakes you may continue to work here sober. Otherwise I'll cut my losses and sell you cheap. Is that understood?"
"Yes mistress." Pari replied, the phrase coming easily to her tongue after the practice she'd had saying it.
She did as she was told, making sure to make herself look presentable before it was time for her nightly debasement. She'd taken a few drags from the pipe, since the smoke helped her forget who and what she'd been not so long ago and come to terms with her shameful life. The bull that entered her room was massive, and Pari might have mistaken him for a builder or some similar laborer if it wasn't for the richness of the fabric covering him, and the gem-studded rings wrapped around his polished horns.
The dose she'd smoked proved just enough to relax her while enabling her to mutter pleasantries without slurring them as she helped her client disrobe. Despite the fact that he'd paid for the whole night, the bull seemed impatient to begin enjoying his whore and Pari soon found her muzzle buried in the Aroh's crotch as his cock slid into her muzzle. She had never even seen one of the bovine males naked and as the bull's member began to slide down her throat she wondered just what she'd be forced to endure.
She wasn't sure if the bulky bull was unsatisfied with her muzzle or just eager to try more of her, but she guessed it was the latter since the big male didn't complain, instead eating the slender feline up with his eyes as he told her to lie down on her back in Kos almost as badly accented as her own. Pari did as she was told, but almost paled when she caught sight of the monster sickling out from the bull's crotch. He stroked his cock as he watched her and more of the pink length slid out. The thing was slender and pointed but got disturbingly thick the nearer it got to the base, and Pari found herself grasping her pipe at the mere thought of taking something that big into her body.
She'd meant to take a single puff, but as the smoke filled her lungs she found the temptation to loose herself in it too strong to resist. She reasoned that with that monster pistoning in and out of her there was no way she could pass out, so the client wouldn't know any better. The tip of the bovine male proved easy to take, but the Hatar had to fight an urge to hiss in pain as the remainder of the cock pried her open as much as a Kos knot did, but without the hope of the pain receding once the thing was pushed within her.
She caught appreciative words mixed in with the bull's groans, the large male obviously enjoying how tight the sinuous feline was as her body strained to accept him. Pari was amazed when after quite a lot of pushing and nudging her body managed to accept the entire thing, the bull easily holding her up by the hips as he knelt between her legs with his mammoth member hilted in a female almost half his size.
The bovine shaft leaked within her and as the bull began to slowly hump against her crotch Pari found the pain fading even as a familiar fog welled up in her mind. She knew she should fight it, that she had to stay conscious, but it was too tempting to run to that place where shame couldn't reach her. She'd been lost in blissful oblivion until she felt soft blows land on her face, pulling her out of the haze. When her eyes opened she realized the bull was angry and that his slaps hadn't been nearly as gentle as they'd felt. The grumbling bovine pulled out and Pari realized with a surge of panic he was getting ready to leave.
"P-please don't! Do... anything..." she muttered, trying to piece together enough Kos to save herself from the fate her mistress had promised. The drug had at least made the plea sound breathy instead of desperate, and she saw the big bull hesitate and turn to regard her for a moment.
"Do anything..." she repeated, trying to pour as much feminine allure as she could into those words, knowing that she was destined for a fresh new hell if she failed to satisfy this male.
With rekindled interest shining in his big brown eyes, the bull approached her once again, grabbing her hips before flipping the startled Hatar with astonishing ease. It hurt when he grabbed her tail and yanked her rear up, but Pari did her best to make her mewl sound more aroused than pained. She was ready to feel that mammoth rod forced past her lips once again when the slim tip prodded against and then suddenly pushed past the pink ring hidden under her tail, followed almost immediately by several more inches of the Aroh's length.
Pari's tail hole had been claimed by the soldiers even before she'd been made a whore, but she'd never taken anything as long or as thick as the bull back there. It was small consolation, but his grunts as he pushed himself into her rear were approving, the words he was muttering between them failing to hurt her as much as his throbbing length. She felt him grab her wrists and soon her arms were pulled back and her chest pulled up from the bed as the burly bull sheathed himself.
He called her 'whore' and worse as he began to breed her behind with obvious delight but little restraint. Pari did her best to keep herself from crying out, knowing that the massive male behind her would want to think that she was enjoying this despite how painful and demeaning it was. Her tail-hole burned and she was almost grateful to the big bull for the iron grip he hand on her wrists, keeping them from reaching for the pipe just a few feet away from her.
Without it she was forced to suffer through the Aroh's rutting of her behind and more. The male had taken her up on her offer and had spent hours doing anything that came to mind to the feline that could only endure and pretend she was enjoying it. Even though he'd paid to have her until morning the Aroh had spent himself long before that, as evidenced by the mess he'd made of his Hatar whore. Pari wasn't sure if those heavy orbs swinging between his legs _could_run dry, but the bull had apparently spent his last drop both on and in the thoroughly used feline. But despite the detestable names he'd called her he walked out of her room looking quite happy, and the ruined feline tried to take some solace form the fact that she'd managed to avoid slipping into an even worse abyss than the one she lived in now.
*******
As Arwa blew softly into the slender flute, she couldn't help but think it had been a mistake to make it despite the sweet, familiar notes she drew out of the reed. She'd been out fetching water when she spotted a promising stalk, and had cut a suitable length on instinct. She'd worked on it by moonlight - using whatever she could get her hands on to make the carefully spaced holes until she could draw a good sound from the hollow rod.
It had been comforting at first - a little secret and something to remind her of what her life had been like before. She would slip out into the fields in the dead of night, sacrificing what little time she had to sleep to play the music she'd been taught at the monastery, closing her eyes and doing her best to forget the miserable fate that had claimed her home, her sisters and herself.
She had been either seen or heard on those supposedly private excursions, and when her new master summoned her and inquired about the instrument, she was sure she'd be punished. They been told time and time again in the slave pens that they were to forget their old lives, and that obedience would serve them better in the years to come than dignity.
The Kos that had bought her had inspected the instrument and Arwa had been surprised when he handed it back to her and demanded she play. She performed as instructed, and the canine seemed delighted by what he'd crassly called "a strangely pleasant heathen melody". Arwa's fate had changed since that day and she spent less time laboring and more time either performing or serving her master. The rough-spun garment she'd been given was replaced with white linen, and even though the light fabric was more comfortable by far she still felt uncomfortable whenever she put it on, knowing that instead of a worker she'd become a decoration or a sort of pet for her master, much like a bird kept for its sweet song and bright plumage.
And she remained his whore, of course. Her master was fairly young and remained unwed, although she doubted her fate would improve much once he took a wife. From what she'd seen and heard of the Kosith, they didn't consider anything done to a slave to be infidelity. After all, one could only cheat on a spouse with another person.
But she was playing the part of a songbird now, her fingers slowly moving over the holes as the splash of a nearby fountain provided a natural accompaniment to her music. Her owner had brought her along to attend him during a meeting with a business partner, showing off the feline he'd bought as if she was a pricey new garment or piece of jewelry.
"Amazing..." her master's host said, even though nothing in his voice suggested he was truly moved by the melody. "And you say she made that thing she's playing herself?"
"Yes, from nothing but a piece of reed, if you can believe it!" Arwa's owner replied, reaching out for a tidbit from a nearby tray before reclining once again in his divan. "Hardly a real instrument, but it is amazing what these heathens can cobble together. A guard overheard her playing in the field and had her brought to me. Imagine my surprise at that piece of luck!"
"I'll say! Can you imagine what that auctioneer would have asked for if he knew she could play?" their host asked and the two wealthy canines rolled their eyes at the thought.
"Well, I understand the expedition proved costlier than they imagined. Apparently these females had killed a great many of soldiers before they managed to take them. Not that you'd tell by looking at them. Just look at your songbird here and try to picture her as some sort of savage killing machine! The people at the market really do a splendid job of breaking them in..."
Arwa had a good enough grasp of Kos to catch what they were saying, and it took all of her self-control to continue playing with merely missing a note. She wasn't sure if she'd been more offended by being referred to as a savage killer, or by hearing the people at the slave market being praised for what they'd done to her and her sisters. She felt bile rise in her throat and she forced herself to swallow it along with the memories of the humiliations, beatings and degradations they were subject to in order to break their wills and pride.
"But when all is said and done, neither of us wound up where we are by paying exactly what the goods are worth..." Arwa's owner said, and the two canines raised their glasses in a silent toast.
"Too true. I even managed to snag a little gem at that very same auction - a virgin Hatar." The other Kos said, but even with her limited grasp of their tongue Arwa could hear the boasting tone in the seemingly casual statement.
"Truly? I thought the pillow houses always picked those clean before they even got to the block." Theo other Kos said, casually describing the way the youngest and most innocent of Arwa's sisters were condemned to a life even worse than her own.
"This one got passed over. The brothel mistresses must have thought she was a runt. Truth be told she did look fairly scrawny when she came up for bidding, but what can you expect with that gruel they feed them? You should have seen her after a week with me... oh but what am I saying? Eryah..." he called, addressing the Rokar woman standing attentively by his side with a pitcher of wine "go and fetch the Hatar girl, will you? Just be quick about making her presentable."
"Yes master." The jackal said, giving the Kos a quick bow before setting the wine down and rushing off.
When she came back, Arwa found tears welling in her eyes despite the fact that she thought she'd spent them all. She recognized Sidhi, a girl that had been accepted as a novice a little before that fateful day when their lives came crashing down. The girl seemed to recognize her but gave no sign or greeting, instead just clutching her hands between her bare legs and trying to maintain some modesty.
"Apologies master, but the mistress had her scrubbing pans and her shift was all wet..." the Rokar woman spoke, explaining why the young Hatar was standing in front of them without a stitch of clothing on.
"That's fine. I wanted my guest to get a good look at her anyway..." the elder of the two Kosith said, not bothering to hide his pleasure as his guest looked over the girl with obvious envy.
"My, my... it looks like I wasn't the only one to snatch a treasure form that auction. Why didn't you have this girl serve us? You're obviously not bothering to hide her from me..." he said, and the two shared a laugh, ignorant or uncaring of the girl's distress as she stood naked in front of a stranger and an acquaintance from a past life.
"I would have, but my wife is really putting the poor thing to work now that she's got a little meat on her bones. I think buying such a young girl made her feel her age a bit and now she's taking it out on her."
"Such a shame. She is a lovely young thing. Here's a thought - why not have her dance for us? She's sure to know the melody."
"Now there's an idea! Well you heard him girl - dance..." the elder Kos spoke addressing Sidhi. The girl looked shocked by the suggestion, even though Arwa was sure she'd been subjected to worse indignities than this. She doubted the Kos giving her the order paid extra for a virgin so that he could protect her innocence. The young Hatar stood still, still seeming unsure of what was expected of her. The sisters of the temple could dance, of course, since it was considered both a good way to keep their bodies limber and a celebration of their faith. Sidhi's eyes caught those of her elder sister and Arwa gave her a barely perceptible nod, urging her without words to comply with the order and avoid even worse pain and humiliation.
To help her, the Hatar stopped her previous song and started a different melody, one that would certainly be familiar to the former novice and one that she judged would be the least sacrilegious to perform in front of the leering canines. The young feline seemed to agree, her eyes taking on a distant quality as she launched herself into the steps of the dance performed by Hatar by the light of the full moon.
The girl seemed to be doing her best to throw herself into the dance, her feet led by a familiar melody coming from Arwa's flute. Any significance of the performance was lost on the two watching males, but neither bothered to hide just how much they were enjoying the sight of the elfin feline moving gracefully over the polished marble. Nor did they spare the dancing Hatar their comments on just what they thought of her lithe body being put on display like this. It was something Arwa had noticed among the Kosith - the spoke around their slaves as if they were cattle, expecting them to be deaf to anything but a command or a question.
"Beautiful. I must admit I'm quite envious..." Arwa's master said, his eyes glued to the slender form of the still dancing Hatar.
"If you'd like I'd be happy to loan her to you for a few days..." their host graciously offered.
"Oh, I couldn't take such a treasure from your home, even for a couple of days."
"Well, why not enjoy her while you're here? Girl, go over there and see to my guest's needs." The older Kos said, and Arwa stopped playing as his intent quickly dawned on her.
Sidhi's movements spoke of one who'd had the disobedience beaten from her, and it was with far less graceful steps that she made her way to the reclining canine's divan. Arwa's owner opened his robe and positioned the girl so that she'd prostrated herself with her arms on the marble floor and her rear hovering above the male's crotch.
"Such a pretty sight..." the Kos said, admiring the feline femininity even as he positioned the girl's rear over his erect shaft. "Arwa, go and show our host the same courtesy..."
The elder of the two Hatari laid her flute down and shed what little clothing she wore as she did as she was bid, assuming the same position as her younger sister. She tried not to tense at the sensation of a stranger's hands grabbing her curved behind and nudging a red tapered cock to her bare slit. A quickly muffled hiss made her look up in time to catch the pained expression on Sidhi's face. She was sure the girl's maidenhead had been claimed already, but judging by the groans of her master she was still too tight to comfortably take a Kos member.
She felt a similar shaft invade her as her rump was pushed down, the vile length sliding between her lips in this perverse parody of a true mating. The eyes of the two felines met briefly before they both looked down in shame as they began to raise and lower their rears in a slow, steady rhythm, their feline slits polishing the red rods that they were never meant to take. The males continued to converse between grunts and huffs and Arwa wasn't sure if she should be grateful that they at least weren't paying attention to the shameful service the two Hatari were forced to provide, or insulted to be ignored in this way.
The sounds of the fountain failed to mask the increasingly wet noises of the twin cocks diving in and out of their respective slits. The elder feline felt paws once again land on the top of her behind, gripping the cheeks as the male began to buck his hips up. She steeled herself for what was to come, biting her lip in time to stifle a cry as her rear was pushed down to meet the swelling knot at the bottom of the canine member. Her hopes that her master hadn't noticed that his host had tied with her were dashed as Sidhi failed to muffle her own cry, the sound cutting through the conversation of the two Kosith as tears glittered in the young Hatar's eyes.
Arwa lowered her head to the floor at the sight, looking as defeated as she felt. There was nothing she could do for the girl, and even offering her some comforting words could get both of them in trouble. Sidhi let out a few whimpers as the bulge trapped in her sex grew to its full length and then went as silent as the elder feline as the two wordlessly accepted the load they were forced to take as the two canines began to empty themselves in the once-proud females.
*******
Ikari stood stock still, face staring blankly ahead as she held a pitcher of wine in her hands. She only occasionally dropped her glance to the glasses on the table, to check if any needed filling. It was her duty on those frequent occasions when the daughter of her master entertained her friends. And as easy as the job was, the Hatar would have preferred a menial task. Labor was at least honest, and preferable to listening to a gaggle of vapid, spoiled young women who always found something to bemoan about their easy lives. Usually one thing, as a matter of fact.
"Dillia, I forgot to ask, how did things go between Xavier and your father?" her young mistress inquired, immediately souring the mood of her friend as the young Kos opposite her began to pout.
"Oh, dismally! He liked him at first, but then he went to meet with his father to talk about a betrothal, and they couldn't come to an agreement."
"Oooh, such a shame! You would have made a lovely couple..." Clio comforted her friend, but Ikari knew for a fact her young mistress had been dreading the thought that her friend might wed before she did.
"Ughhhh, I'd wed a Rokar at this point if it meant I could finally sleep with a male! No offense Naari..." the would-be bride bemoaned, quickly adding the last part although her tone suggested she wouldn't have been mortified if she had offended her friend.
"Oh, none taken!" The young jackal girl quickly replied, knowing full well she couldn't afford to take offense. The Rokar had become servants in their own homes when the Kosith had swallowed their small nation into their empire. Many Rokar had been enslaved, but Naari's father had been a shrewd merchant who'd quickly broken with his guild and their intention of boycotting trade with the invaders, embracing the Imperial Peace and making a quick fortune while his former colleagues had gone bankrupt. The man was devoid of any shame, and was immensely proud that his little darling socialized with the daughters of prominent Kosith, even hoping to find her a husband among the wolf-like canines. Ikari doubted that even with his profiteering the wretch could afford a dowry big enough to make a Kos parent consider blessing such a marriage!
"It really is unjust, isn't it?" spoke another vapid young female who'd never experienced injustice. "I mean, if we'd been born as boys we would have been free to mount a slave the moment we were old enough to have the urge to..." she continued, but this time there was no concern of offending someone, even the Hatar standing by who had been subjected to that sort of behavior many times after her capture. "Even common young men have options. But we are forced to remain chaste just because we have the misfortune of being born with a maidenhead!"
Hearing her words, Ikari looked at the decanter in her hands. More than half empty, and this was their second one. It wasn't a lot, but the young ladies hadn't been old enough to drink wine for very long and it took fairly little to disinhibit them, at which point their conversation would veer towards a singular subject.
"You know, I've heard from a friend whose name I couldn't possibly divulge..." Clio began in a conspiratorial tone.
"Melicant?" one of the young canines asked.
"Oh, guessed it in one!" Clio said happily, showing just how much she valued her supposed friend's trust. "Well, she's been seeing that boy whose name escapes me and she told me in confidence that she'd allowed him... you know... _inside_her!" she announced in a hush, to the astonishment of the young ladies.
"What on earth was she thinking? Why, if her father finds out that she's no longer a virgin she might get disowned!"
"You don't understand - she slept with a male but she's still got her maidenhead..." Clio said, her voice dropping to a slightly slurred hush.
"Y-you don't mean..." Naari began but the jackal didn't seem to have the courage to finish the question.
"Mm-hmm. Under her tail." The Kos hostess replied, making the assembled girls both blush and wince.
"That sounds horrid!" the jackal girl said, although her expression hinted a certain perverse curiosity. "Anyway, I don't think a man could fit his... thing... back there."
"Well, we can check, can't we?" Dillia said, and dashed off before anyone could ask her what she intended. The intent became suspiciously clear when she came back holding a slim courgette. "Oh don't give me that look and don't tuck your tails! There's no need for any of us to try it..." she said, turning to look at their hostess. Ikari had caught on to the young Kos' idea and had hoped her mistress wouldn't.
"Oh! Well, I have to admit my curiosity has been stirred..." the girl said before turning to the Hatar standing to the side "Ikari, would you touch your toes for us?" she asked without so much as batting an eye.
"Mistress?" the Hatar feigned ignorance, hoping that the spoiled girl would give up and continue chattering with her friends.
"Turn around and touch your toes. Or shall I call father?" Clio asked as she arched one eyebrow. She was always lenient with Ikari, but had no qualms about summoning someone with a more disciplinarian bent if she felt her slave was being disobedient.
Swallowing what little pride she had, the Hatar set the pitcher on the table and did as she was told. She could hear the chairs scraping against the paving tiles as the girls left their seats and came closer to inspect her rear. Her young 'mistress' (she was of course her father's property, but the young Kos liked to pretend she had a servant of her very own in front of her friends) had so far merely been casually callous, treating the once fierce warrior as a sort of pet. Ikari suspected she was about to be humiliated more profoundly, a suspicion that was confirmed when her linen shift was lifted out of the way, followed soon by her tail.
"Well, here you go Clio. She is your property after all..." the one called Dillia said and albeit upside-down Ikari saw her hand the long green vegetable to her mistress. The young Kos considered the courgette in her hand and the feline pucker now on display to the whole group before pushing the blunt tip of the vegetable into her muzzle.
"Goodness Clio, look at you! Your future husband certainly has something to look forward to!" Dillia teased and the bent-over Hatar caught a glimpse of the vegetable as it left her mistress' muzzle.
"Instead of trying to be witty, be a dear and spread her cheeks so we can see if this works. If it feels good, this could be the solution we've all been waiting for..."
Ikari knew for a fact that 'it' would work, but she kept her tongue between her teeth as one of the girls spread her wide, exposing her even more to the curious gazes of the deviant young females. The courgette was roughly the size of the members Ikari had been forced to take during both her trek to this city and her time being 'broken in'. The difference was that a Kos cock was pointed, while the saliva-covered vegetable now being pressed against the pucker was blunt, so much that her young mistress seemed to have a little difficulty pushing it in.
"I think she's tensing up..." she heard Clio say behind her, catching the irritated note in the girl's voice.
"Well, let's see if we can get her to relax for us..." Dillia said, and before Ikari could puzzle out the girl's intent she felt two fingers being pushed past the lips of her sex as if they had every right to be there.
"Goodness! She's, uhm... not a virgin I take it?"
"Oh for Heaven's sakes Naari, you have eyes don't you? Look at the size of her teats! She's obviously had cubs before..." Clio spoke, the Hatar folding her ears at the casual yet callous way she was demeaning her even as she diligently worked the courgette past her straining ring. "Keep doing what you're doing Dillia, I think I've almost... there!" the girl finished triumphantly as the tip as well as several inches of the vegetable sank under Ikari's tail.
"Ooh, that hiss just then made it look painful." The jackal said from behind her, but Ikari knew it was not concern for her in the girl's voice. She'd obviously been considering trying this herself and the Hatar's predicament was giving her second thoughts.
"Well I'm sure it wasn't this way for Melicant. If any of us were to try it we would be sure to use oil back there and make our male go gently. But why bother with a slave?" Cilia asked, pushing more of the green rod into the lioness, driven by a perverse curiosity and a complete lack of empathy.
"Believe me Naari, my fingers wouldn't be this wet if this didn't feel good for the old girl..." Dillia said, still pumping her digits in and out of the feline muff, although Ikari could no longer understand why. "Besides, mating always hurts for her kind. You should hear the racket they make when getting mounted!"
"And how would you know?" Cilia inquired, obviously eager for gossip even as she violated the Hatar's tail-hole.
"Oh, haven't I told you? Father had bought a Hatar male some time ago, and after this lot of females arrived he's been making him a small fortune in stud fees. Why just the other day someone had brought a feline girl over, probably in her first heat. They had the stud breed her right there in our courtyard, and you should have heard the sounds she made while he was on her! Scared me half to death, but the little slut wound up moaning when her stud gave her what she needed..."
For a brief moment Ikari had forgotten her own indignity and the pain coming from below her tail, the blood in her veins seeming to turn into ice as she imagined two of her kind subject to such an affront to basic dignity! She could well imagine the girl's distress, as she was mated far too soon by what was sure to be a fully grown male, both of them treated with no more consideration than one would give cattle. She wondered if these people would ever truly run out of atrocities to commit as her mind struggled to banish the image of this latest abomination.
"It's because of their members, you see - Hatari males have these little barbs running all along their shafts." She finished, and Ikari couldn't help but wonder how she'd gotten such a good look. And if this monster of a girl decided to get more than that, what would be the fate of a male who wound up claiming her virginity? She shuddered to think what people who were cruel even without trying would inflict on a slave who 'raped' a noble's daughter.
"One more reason to be glad we aren't Hatari." Her mistress said, and the others shared her laughter. Even Naari, despite the fact that some of her kind had ended up as slaves for resisting the Kosith occupation. "Ooh, will you look at that - I've managed to get the whole thing in!" she exclaimed, holding on to the stem as Ikari's pucker twitched around the length stretching her tail-.hole.
"Well go on Clio, she's your slave - give her a good rutting and let's see what it feels like..." Dillia said, although the Hatar wasn't sure if she cared to find out as much as she was enjoying helping her friend humiliate the feline forced to endure and obey their every whim.
The canine directly behind her didn't need much urging, and soon Ikari felt the sickening and all too familiar feeling of a hard mass moving in and out of her painfully stuffed rear. Clio began slowly but built up a more vigorous rhythm, no doubt staring wide-eyed at the pink ring wrapped around the invading length. The force the girl applied was nothing compared to a male Kos' rutting, including that of her father, but unlike an actual shaft the vegetable produced no lubrication, something that the girl no longer seemed concerned with now that she'd successfully penetrated her slave.
Her sex was another matter entirely, and to her shame the Hatar could feel her lower lips dripping around the fingers pumping it. She felt nothing but shame at this new humiliation she was being subject to, but her body was responding to the stimulation whether her mind objected to it or not. The Kos girl's digits pumped in and out, prodding and curving as the young woman explored the slave's sex in a way she couldn't explore her own without losing her precious maidenhead.
Through it all Ikari was aware of the eyes glued to her, the curious stares of the young females that had been raised in such a sick environment that they felt no guilt whatsoever about subjecting her to such a humiliating fate. She had her eyes shut, but her ears could pick up the quickened breathing of the girls as the sight of her being violated stirred their own urges, her nose soon catching their own personal scent washing away the perfume they'd dabbed between their legs.
"She... seems to be enjoying herself..." The voice was that of Dillia, the girl busily pumping her hand against the Hatar's sex even as her own no doubt moistened from the sight.
"Well, let's just keep going. No point getting the poor thing worked up and leaving her like this..." spoke Clio, and Ikari almost begged her mistress to stop. Pain she could endure, and the frustration she'd experience if she failed to achieve release at this point would pale to the embarrassment of climaxing from having these sick young girls rut her tail-hole with a vegetable to satisfy their curiosities and their own repressed desires. But she kept her muzzle shut, knowing that it wasn't concern for her that drove the young Kos to pump the green shaft in and out of her rump, but rather her own need to see if a female could achieve climax from such an act.
To her shame, Ikari knew she might. Her hatred for the Kosith and what they'd done to herself and her sisters burned fiercely within her heart, but there were those moments when the need in her loins overpowered her sensibilities. Even as her young mistress pistoned the vegetable in and out of her pucker she remembered her father mounting her, taking her not by force but with the assurance that she was his to do with as he pleased. The notion was sickening, but his body and his member had been warm, the friction of a male between her legs familiar despite the unwelcome intrusion of a knot. He'd taken her many times since she'd been purchased, and Ikari knew she should be glad that she'd only succumbed to the physical stimulation a few times. But it was those few occurrences that burned her soul with shame.
"It... it seems to be working. Just listen to the sounds she's making! I think she's about to..." Naari said, and it was an almost growling noise from the Hatar that made her stop.
Ikari folded her ears against her head, but there was little point. The noises she was desperate not to hear were coming from her own throat as her slit pulsed around a pair of curious fingers and her pucker clenched around the courgette stretching it. She felt a new level of shame at the thought that it was almost children who'd driven her to this - young women forbidden from exploring their own bodies who'd instead chosen to play with hers instead.
"Eww, look at the mess she made of my hand!" complained Dillia, the girl who hadn't minded pushing that hand against the Hatar's mound all this time.
"Oh, well have her lick it off. They clean themselves that way, you know..." her mistress replied, mercifully puling the green rod from under the Hatar's tail.
"She does seem needy, poor thing. Maybe you should get your father to talk to mine about breeding her..." Dillia suggested as she shoved her drenched paw in front of the feline who had little choice but to lick her own juices off it.
"Now there's an idea. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing that! And just picture what an adorable cub she'd have..."
The words, even though spoken in a girlishly-wistful tone almost caused the Hatar's heart to seize up. She had indeed given birth before, and even though a sister of the temple was used to the thought of giving up her child, the idea of birthing a cub to this sort of life almost made her sick. She vowed then and there to make more of an effort when the girl's father came to call on her again. If she did a good enough job of pleasing him, he might be hesitant to share her with another male. As detestable as the idea of willingly becoming the man's whore was, Ikari suspected it was better than becoming his brood-mare.
*******
"Twenty!" the Kos bitch grunted, setting down the wooden paddle she'd just used on the bent-over Hatar girting her teeth soundlessly through the ordeal. "And you should count yourself lucky to get off with such a token punishment." she finished.
Asiyah fought to keep her tongue still at that. A sister of her rank endured flagellation as a matter of training, but the fur around her eyes was nevertheless wet with tears. One reason for that was probably that she'd never been subject to a beating like this at the monastery. She was told by the mistress of the house to touch the ground with her hands and the miserable canine had taken a sadistic delight at swinging the length of wood against the Hatar's exposed slit, a beating that would have had any other slave-girl screaming enough to wake half the city.
"Th-thank you for your kindness, mistress." She forced past her lips, knowing that was what the Kos wanted to hear.
"As well as you should be! Walking around like that... supposing that a guest at this home saw you, what would he have thought of us?" the woman said, and Asiyah did her best to bite back any reply, but failed.
"It was your so... I mean the young master that bade me do it..." she said, words that even though corrected mid-way she knew were not what the bitter bitch wanted to hear.
"I should have your tongue torn out for telling such lies! My son is of noble birth and has been raised as such! If he decides to take what belongs to him it is your duty to clean yourself up afterwards. I don't care if you use a bucket and brush or if you lick yourself clean like you cats are known to do, but I will not have a slave walking around_my_ house with streaks in her fur and reeking of rut!"
"Yes, mistress..." Asiyah said. But it's what your son wants... she thought.
She knew there was no point arguing. The Kos woman would believe her child over a slave if he claimed the sky was green and water was dry. She'd never raise a hand to the twisted young man she'd raised, but she'd beat a slave purple over her spawn's mischief. As if it had been the Hatar's idea to walk around with dried cum caked in her fur, with streaks everywhere from her face to her backside.
And the young wretch hadn't been alone when he'd inflicted this new humiliation on the once proud warrior-priestess. He'd had her attend him without a stitch of clothing on, which had become a habit of his. He didn't bother hiding how much he enjoyed making his friends jealous by parading her around - his own personal toy for all the other twisted youths to envy and drool over.
The one who came to visit earlier that day had apparently had enough of merely looking. The boy had stolen something from his father - some of that revolting rot the Kosith stuffed in their pipes and smoked, probably to banish what little conscience they had. He'd offered to share his spoils with her master, providing that the young Kos shared a treasure of his own.
Asiyah had found herself on all fours soon after that request, with the young man clumsily guiding his shaft between her folds as her young master gripped her by the ears and forced his own knotted member into her muzzle. The youth pumping her sex was no less wretched than the one she'd been forced to endure since being bought. The young Kos had praised her tightness, complaining how his own house slave was a mare who'd been bred before he'd been old enough to rut her himself, and how a stallion's cock had 'ruined her'. With the spoiled youths using both her mouth and her sex as if she were nothing more than a toy, Asiyah found herself wishing a stallion would rut her if that meant the Kosith would no longer find her feminine parts of any interest.
It would doubtlessly have hurt, but she could handle agony better than shame. And her young master enjoyed inflicting shame upon her. Even as he rutted her muzzle he insisted she look up at him, urging his friend to yank her tail and 'let her know she's being fucked'. She wondered if the sight of her almost choking on his pistoning shaft as she looked up at him was what did it, or if he enjoyed the sight of his guest using her more than he did breeding her mouth, but either way she saw his knot sell just outside her muzzle and was surprised when he pulled the red shaft out of her.
Every time so far he'd enjoyed forcing her to swallow every drop of his slimy seed, and for a second the Hatar wondered if she'd somehow pleased him enough that he was willing to spare her that humiliation. She was proven wrong when the youth pointed his cock at her face as it released, the first jet hitting her in the eye to her master's amusement before she closed them shut and he began to spray his seed all around her head.
His friend must have taken that as a hint and a second later Asiyah had felt an almost fully swollen knot being tugged out of her sex before warm streaks of canine seed began to rain over her rump and back. She knew from shameful experience that the Kosith males climaxed for quite a while, and by the time the young males were done she could feel the slimy streaks soaking into her fur. Her master had insisted that she now looked like a 'proper whore' and told her not to bathe until he ordered her to.
She did so now, pouring cold but thankfully clean well water over herself and running a rag over her fur (gently over her still sore mound!), all under the supervision of her young master's mother. She knew the spoiled brat would blame her when he saw her clean, rather than the woman who'd given birth to him. She knew as well that he'd waste little time thinking up an appropriate and no doubt humiliating punishment for her. Asiyah knew she was cleaning herself only so that she could be soiled even worse, either physically or emotionally. It was dangerous, in her new life, to expect anything apart from pain and humiliation...