[b]Those who Rule and those who Bow[/b] Since it's such a beautiful day, I decided to move my work outside today. Nothing is more depressing than writing letters indoor under a candelabra, while the world outside is so bright and lively. I opted for my favorite chhatri, nestled into the herbary and close to the mango plantation. The octagonal pavilion stood slightly elevated and grants me a nice view over all the busy bees working for me. I think it was worth it having my desk and stationery brought this far out here, even though it was a bit troublesome. For the foxes carrying it, anyway. And certainly for the foxes carrying me! I enjoy the sounds of all those little paws shuffling about beneath me. But now, when I'm trying to write a letter of condolence to lady Lilavati, commemorating her husband's unexpected passing, I find the servants dancing around me annoying. They bring pastries, biscuits, every fruit my gardens have to offer, neatly sliced up and arranged in a star pattern... I'm not having a banquet here! Eventually I'm brought a cup of fresh chai, which fills the air with a faint, sweet smell. I raise my hand to the muntjac deer who'd set the cup down and say, "That's all. Leave me alone now." To indicate I mean all of them, I wave my hand in a wide circle and swiftly the clutter of bowing servants disappear. "Hmmmf..." Finally peace, I think and take a sip from my tea. It tastes exactly the way I prefer it. For a little while I tinker with the letter and manage to come up with something that expresses my heartfelt pain for her tragic loss, while also indicating my readiness to find an eligible match for her eldest son and hire. It's about time, now that his father bit it! And luckily I know just the right girl for him - a close acquaintance of my own family, of course, that will bring house Jasrotia even closer to my thick, greedy fingers. Before long, though, I get bored with the closing paragraph and put the quill down. Might as well leave the rest for my secretary. Instead, I finish my chai and let my eyes wander a bit. The skinny wolf, plucking mango over at the plantation, apparently has noticed me watching. He's turned his back towards me and is trying pretty hard to look busy and hard working. I like it when they do this. Shows that they have respect for me, even from afar. Eventually my eyes flick towards the herbary, where a flashing yellow something stands out from the green bushes of fennel. The boy is topless, as is pretty much mandated by me for workers around the palace, so his strikingly colored chest is on full display. He's a Nilgiri marten, tall and slender. Oh, so slender! Quite dutifully and with a faint smile on his black, handsome face, he weeds the little patch. He hasn't noticed me yet, or goes about his work as usual, thinking the big lord won't ever regard a simple farm worker. Oh, I'm going to take advantage of that! Calmly I watch the boy for a while, until he's done with the fennel patch and moved on to the next, which happens to make him turn his back towards me. I stand and immediately frown at the two attendees that rise with me. They've been hiding a bit offside, but still close enough to be called over in case I need more pastry, or run out of ink. An annoyed wave with my trunk keeps them at bay. I know I can be a bit of a clumsy man, but even my ungainly stompers manage to carry me over quite enough, so that the marten, bound up in his work, didn't notice me approaching. "The basil is coming along nicely, is it not?" I ask and see his cute, round ears twitch. He chuckled faintly, his voice a soft, boyish chirp. "That's sage, actual--" Then he freezes when he turns and sees me looming above him, those dark, brown eyes wide with shock upon my noble countenance. "Lord Chaidya!" he announces, tossing the bundle of weeds eh was still holding aside to dust off his hands and assume a more straight pose on his knees. Then he bows, palms and forehead to the ground, showing me that willowy, black-furred back. "Please forgive me! I didn't knew it was you." I chuckle amused and let him kneel there for a moment, enjoying the view. I love being born a noble! Though eventually I allow him to raise his head. He's very shy, tries to maintain eye contact, but quickly falters under my gaze. Even though I pull my robe up as I crouch down beside him, the pristine blue fabric touches the ground. I couldn't care less, though. I'm not short on expensive fabric and no one's even going to dare mention that I have dirt on me. "So sage, huh?" Carefully I reach for one of the rugose leaves to inspect it as if I have any clue. "Can't say I've ever been much of a botanist." The marten struggles to say something, though eventually probably comes to the conclusion that not talking to the lord he worked for was inappropriate. "I'm still learning myself..." Good boy! "And do you enjoy gardening?" His eyes flick away for a second, then return to the sage in front of us. "It's... hard work sometimes. But I enjoy seeing the plants grow." While he keeps staring ahead, I peer down between us and, eventually, curious me can't keep his hands to himself any longer. Reaching down, I grab his hand to bring it up and have a look. He flinches, surprised that a being like me would deign to touch his dirty body, but he doesn't dare to pull away. Well, I'm certainly not afraid of a bit of garden soil. He's got large hands, for a person this petite. Large paws too, which, I guess, is characteristic for martens. I brush some of the earth away and run my crude finger over his pads, which are still soft. "You're new in the palace?" I assume. He blushes, then nods, then shakes his head, while I won't let go of his hand. "I've been here for three years now, my lord. I used to help out with the laundry, but now that I'm of age, I got assigned to do field work as well." I raise a brow when he mentions that he's been here for this long. Maybe an orphan, or the later-born of a poor family? Too young and frail to do hard labor, but at least handsome enough to serve in the palace. I probably shouldn't bring this up. Not that I care, really. I mean, I like the caste system, however unfair it is - it benefits me! But I'm not a man who despises someone based on where, how, or what they were born. Should this marten really hail from such a low standing, many a lord would never even allow him to set foot on their estate. But, as far as I'm concerned: He's obviously got two able hands, so... "Apparently, taking care of the herbs is supposed to prepare me for work on the plantations, which I assume is going to start this harvest." "Nonsense!" I declare with a dismissive flap of my trunk. "It would be a waste to ruin these hands in the garden, digging holes and climbing trees." I can find better use for them! The boy is apparently a bit perplexed by my concern and struggles for a reply. "W-well... I still mainly work in the palace's baths. I like that. It's warm." "Splendid!" I say and stand back up. The marten immediately moves his head down towards the ground again to see me off, though I have other plans. "No, no. Stand! And tell me your name, please." Carefully, but as instructed, the young man rose and, honestly surprised me a bit with his actual height, now that I see him fully upright. That lanky midsection sure is giving him a bit of a boost. Not that I mind. His proportions are exquisite! His belly is flat as can be and his lowest ribs show. I like them skinny. I could probably wrap my trunk all around him, so that's what I do. Who's going to stop me?! "Ah! I'm... My name is Quarin, my lord!" he squeals surprised as I squeeze his midsection a bit. He smells of earth and all sorts of herbs, I don't care to discern. "Now, Quarin. As chance would have it, I was just thinking about having a bath," I lie and possessively pull the boy a bit closer. "And I really could use an attendant for that. Come with me." Naturally I don't wait for a reply and pull the marten along, though I feel him meekly push against my trunk. "My lord, I would be delighted to serve you, b-but..." he whispers and then sheepishly looks down on himself. "I-I'd need to clean up first." I take a look too and find his paws and hands still full of soil, as well as two brown spots on his simple, linen dhoti where he'd knelt down. "Well, what do you think baths were made for? Accompany me. I'll watch while you wash yourself, then you can help me." I smirk as I see his flummoxed, blushing face. Quarin is hesitant, but of course he would never dare to deny me! "A-as you wish, lord Chaidya..." [center]***[/center] Once we're both in the water and naked, Quarin becomes even more shy. I had to tell him twice now not to hide his body from me, which he still is trying to do at any occasion he thinks I'm not paying attention. But my eyes are fixed on his tender form, much to the poor, blushing boy's dilemma. He's scrubbing his dark pelt in front of me. Literally scrubbing - he's probably too nervous and new to this to mind moving in a manner that pleases the lord's eye. His earth-caked hands are soon clean again and he rinses his face, making the scented, milky water ripple down his vibrantly yellow chest. I just sit at the long end of the basin, both arms stretched over its rim, enjoying the warmth around my thick gut. I merely watch Quarin, let him do as he sees fit, giving him all the time he needs to feel presentable again. And then I give him even more time. He's so jittery and afraid to mess up somehow, that he stubbornly keeps washing himself. The bowl of jasmine oil is half empty already and lingers strong in the bathwater now. "If you keep going like this, you'll look as slippery as an otter," I say and wipe my sweating forehead with my trunk. Nothing better than a good, long, hot bath! "I think you're clean enough now. Time to take care of your lord!" The marten stiffens, then bows courteously to me. "O-of course, lord Chaidya. Do you prefer hard soap, or the lotion?" he asks on his way to the tray at the edge of the bath to pick up some care products. "Hard soap," I say. "And leave the cloth. Your hands will do just fine!" Quarin whispers a soft, "Yes, my lord..." as he timidly returns with nothing more than a fresh piece of honey milk soap. He's a bit hesitant, but apparently still remembers what he's learned, while working in the palace. With quick rubs he makes the soap foam in his hands, then applies the suds to my left arm and shoulder. I chuckle as his faint touch feels like a fly scuttling over my thick hide. With a swift motion I then pull my trunk from the warm water and sling it around Quarin's neck. He gives a jump, but I don't intend to harm, or scare this precious boy - not too much at least. I can only assume that, during his time here, he happened to hear quite a few rumors about me. Not every horror story my subjects tell each other are true, though some do bear a grain of truth. Anyway, I merely pull him a bit closer and push his chin up when he tries to look down. "I'm not a dainty princess, Quarin. Wash me properly!" He nods vehemently, then drops the soap when I put one of my hands around his hip. "M-my lord?!" he asks confused as I feel up his pristine fur. It's dense and soft, but a bit more bristly than I would have imagined. Naturally I take the liberty to let my fingers roam. "Keep going," I tell him calmly and let my trunk slide over his yellow chest once I release him. The smell of jasmine is strong there, but I wonder what his scent is like without dirt, or essential oils masking it. Quarin complies and his smooth, but strong fingers start to work my shoulders with some actual vigor. I close my eyes, let him do his work and keep his flat butt cupped by my large palm. The lingering tension in his movements is palpable, but he's trying his best to be professional. He lathers my arms and shoulders, then my pudgy chest and finally begins to rub the top of my gut, where the water line breaks calmly from his motions. I squint one eye open and find the boy tensely repeating the same move over and over again from a lack of direction. He's probably afraid to touch his lord improperly, that innocent lad. I wonder if he's still a virgin? He twitches out of his little stupor when I coil my trunk around his wrist. Gently I guide his hand a bit lower and murmur, "Continue," into his perked ears. He obeys me again, although a bit more hesitantly this time, and slowly works his way in the desired direction. I notice the boy's astonished expression when he rubes further and further and further down, only to find more and more and more of my extensive belly. Yes, I'm a big lord - in all the right places! "Hmph!" Afraid he suddenly retracts his arm when he touches something that is neither my trunk, nor my knees. "I... am sorry, my lord..." Quarin stammers and applies his hand to the top of my stomach again, to start over, as he seems fond to do when insecure. Though my trunk grabs his wrist once more and I bring him right back down where he'd left off. With a grin I feel how he's pressing his hand flat into my pudge just below the belly button to avoid any further 'encounters'. When he hesitates, I encourage him with a patronizing, "Go on." Quarin lets out an unsteady breath, peers over to me, though quickly averts his gaze again. Then he carefully continues to rub my hide until, eventually, his hand sinks into the deep fold my overhanging paunch creates right above my crotch. Again he stops and blushes hard. "A..." he begins to say uncertainly. "Are my services... desired there as well, my lord?" the marten finally manages to ask. "Very much so," I confirm with a dirty grin. "I need to be cleaned everywhere." He swallows anxiously, but knows better than to reject me. Timidly his hand moves again, out of my belly fold and over my thigh, further and further towards my knee - bashfully avoiding the one area I want him to touch most. I say nothing for a few moments, give him a false sense of security and Quarin calms a bit. Though when he means to work his way up my other leg, I open my eyes, turn my head his way, so he notices, and give him a quizzical look. "Quarin. Touch my dick!" I say and lace my voice with just enough authority to make sure he understands that I won't tolerate any more dawdling. The marten's narrow face twists at my words, though he does his best to force a smile. It's adorable. "Y-yes, lord Chaidya..." he whimpers and reluctantly feels for my most prized appendage in the milky water. He doesn't have to search for long and finds my penis swollen already, although not quite at full hardness yet. Quite redundant in his motions once again, he rubs his palm up and down my shaft in a manner which I think is his rendition of 'washing' it. He swiftly cringes again when he notices just how much I pack down there. "Imposing?" I ask confidently, knowing all too well how much my fat cock makes little boys squeal. "Ye-... very..." Quarin whispers and, honestly, sounds more afraid than impressed. I certainly like to 'intimidate' my harem boys a little bit, especially the new ones, which I think Quarin will join right after this. Though I'm not a cruel lover. Rough and hard to please? Yes. Demanding and unrewarding? Absolutely! But not needlessly cruel. This marten seems like a particularly delicate flower to me, so I don't think I'll overdo it just yet. With a more gentle tone again, I ask him, "Have you ever touched another man like this before?" He shakes his head before his muzzle moves. "No, my lord." "Do you like it?" He says nothing, probably afraid that either answer would get him into trouble. "I enjoy it," I say to encourage him a little, then add, "Grab me a bit tighter." He does so and now I get some actual pleasure out of this. Leaned back, I exhale audibly and squeeze my new toy's butt. "Hmmf... go faster." Finally getting into the right mood, I move my trunk under the water's rippling surface and bring it to Quarin's crotch. Unsurprising, he's not aroused and flinches from my touch with a soft whine. But I don't care and keep fondling his little balls like they're mine - because they are mine! This entire marten is mine now. His work, his life, his body. Mine, to do with as I please! "Uhg...!" Quite delighted by Quarin's humble efforts, I feel my lower regions twitch. Though I know this bit of stroking won't push me over the edge. "Mrrf!" With a sudden motion I grab the lightweight marten under his arm and push him forth, which leaves my member unattended and throbbing for a few cruel seconds. "Kneel before me, hff. And use both hands!" I order, possibly sounding a bit more gruff than I intended to. He hunkers down quickly between my massive legs, however, and now only his yellow chest is still above the water. I can see him trembling despite that, though. And his face is obviously distraught now. I thump my foot on the ground when he grabs me again and continues to rub. I urge him further, regardless. "Hrrf-faster, Quarin!" I puff, feeling my stately length dwarf his otherwise big hands. He moves them rather fast now and clumsy from his lack of experience and the flustered state he was in, so I can't help but feel his pointy claws now and then. I might have him file them down later, but right now I kinda enjoy the sense of danger whenever they pinch my flesh. It's nothing a man like me can't handle. Despite the fact that Quarin is far from enjoying his current task, he does his best to pleasure me the way I demand and having that power over this gorgeous, young marten boy alone, makes my balls spasm already. I could demand every vile, or nasty infamy, one could think off, from this lad, and he would obey his lord! I could shove my trunk into his muzzle and he'd never dare to bite. I could turn him over and take his undefiled ass like the horny beast I am, without getting a single 'no' from him. Heck, I could order him to drink my filthy bath water and he'd drain the basin, or die trying if I want it so! To Quarin's luck, I'm not that ferocious, though. I certainly love to push my subject's limits, and definitely intend to expand the marten's horizons, but, for now, having him service the fat, old lord in his bathtub ought to be harsh enough on this gentle lad. I bet he'd be glad to be back in the garden now and pluck weeds. I feel my body tense with anticipation and want Quarin to tickle me a bit more targeted, so I say, "Focus on the tip." The marten does as asked and encircles the thick end of my member with both hands. "Uhrf!" He does, however, not adjust his speed, or technique for the more sensitive spot and now it feels more as though I'm tortured. The oily water eases some of the friction, at least, but he quickly has me sore and twitching. I don't stop him, though. Being handled a bit roughly by my servants was a rarity and felt quite exciting. Within seconds I was fidgeting on my seat, breathing heavily through my mouth, while I watched the humiliated marten pump my shaft with that obstinate forlornness of his. I grunt and thrust up into his hands. "Aurghf!" A thick spurt of my seed erupts from the water and splashes my chest. "K-keep going!" I tell the startled boy and spill the rest of my load into the bath under his shaking hands. Quarin looks a bit disgusted, which only makes me chuckle. Not how you imagined your first time to be, huh? Oh, don't worry, I'll teach you how to embrace and love your lord's physical needs! As before, Quarin aimlessly continues the task given to him and mindlessly work's my penis, despite the state of sensitivity it is in right now. I see it as a challenge and try to withstand him for a moment, but swiftly crumble under the intense sting in my glans. "Th-that will do," I mumble and push his hands off. My balls feel heavy in the warm water now. Timidly the marten remains kneeling between my legs, his head bowed and those beautiful, dark eyes trained at the water's murky surface. I can't help the thought that he must feel dirtier than ever before, right now, despite probably never being more clean in his low-born life. When commoners think of a harem, they often imagine halls of marble and silk, filled with beauties, treated like little princesses, feeding grapes to their lords, while brushing each other's fur. Reality is seldom an ideal dream, though. Oh, I do take very good care of my flock of boys, mind you. But I also expect them to work for the luxury I afford them. Quarin will learn this very soon! Idly my wet trunk brushes off the fluid I splashed on myself, while I consider how to commend the newest addition to my stable. I want to say something that makes him feel appreciated to welcome him in his new position. This antsy, little guy has a mallow way about him that makes my fat heart soft. "You did good, Quarin. I am very satisfied with you!" He humbly bows his head and whispers, "Thank you, my lord..." "I will have Madhav show you the ins and outs. And in no time, we will both enjoy our time together even more!" When the marten's ears twitch as he recognizes the name and I see his worried eyes, a lofty grin creeps over my face. Yes, Madhav is my harem master. And he does have a reputation! "For now, though..." I announce and lazily sprawl out a bit to dump my thick, heavy stompers right onto the naked boy's fuzzy lap. "You can go on and wash my feet!" Distressed, Quarin lowers his head even further to hide his wet eyes. His nose is almost touching the water. "Of course, lord Chaidya..." [center]***[/center] I have washed men before. Many times actually, it's part of the job. I prefer the rare occasions a woman desires my services, though, simply because I enjoy the view a lot more and females usually don't want you to touch them too much. A little help with the tail a nice back rub, but mostly they want to feel desired by the handsome, young man working in the baths. Sometimes they want more, but I've never been in such a situation. Some men also want more, but - fortunately - I've not been in such a situation before either. Until today. At first, being a bath attendant felt a bit awkward, but you get used to it and, at some point, one body is like the other. You go about your job, wash them, rinse them, dry them, oil them and then you clean up after them to accept the next person in need of a cleansing. There actually are a lot worse jobs someone like me could end up in! I grew up in a relatively well-off family, actually. My father could read and write and was employed as scribe at a wealthy house. I never picked that up, though soon would learn to at least read as well, as lord Chaidya had told me. But merely to recite poetry to him. Anyway, the reason why I ended up where I am now, was that my father wasn't my actual father. I never knew the man who sired me and my mother died when I was still young, so her uncle adopted me. It was a decent family and they took good care of me, but I always came in last. My uncle's actual sons would inherit his profession, house and wealth and his daughters were given to promising husbands. Without an inheritance and profession, my father had a hard time trying to marry me off. At the same time he couldn't simply put me into physical labor, because that would be unheard-off for a family from our caste and disgrace him. I don't know how exactly, but my caretaker eventually found a position for me in the service of our local potentate, lord Chaidya. Nothing exceptional, just a humble job as bath attendant, but I was duteous and tried to honor my family by working hard. I wasn't prepared for what happened after Lord Chaidya approached me in the herbary! The elephant was pretty nice and pleasant, despite the fact that he intimidated me. In my line of work, I usually only had to do with guests of mild importance, ambassadors, merchants, or palace staff in higher positions. In all the years I already worked here, I never even saw my lord this close up before. I was ashamed having to greet him with dirty hands! Naturally I tried to appeal to my better and serve him well. I was a bit flummoxed that this man, this noble, would require the service of a grubby garden boy like me, of all the hundreds of servants he could pick from. As far as I knew, the lord had his very own bath attendants that only served him alone. I at least was glad he demanded me for something I knew how to do. When things developed in a different direction, however, I wished he would never have noticed me!I was glad for the chance to show my skills to the man I worked for, but I never wanted to touch lord Chaidya indecently. He was a man, for one, but he also was... well... voluminous. And I don't just mean the fact that an elephant was way bigger than an adolescent Nilgiri marten, or the frighteningly huge member of his! This man was - and I don't think there's any better way to say that - fat! Elephants almost always lean a bit towards the chubby side, but lord Chaidya was simply fat. Which alone wasn't a problem for me, I've washed several portly men in my career, I even have one, or two regulars. But pleasuring this man? I was so afraid! The baths are a place for rumors and, naturally, I picked up some gossip. It's not a secret that the lords of this land live a rather hedonistic life, while legions of us low-born folk bend and bow for them. It was also a well-known fact that lord Chaidya fancied some rather unusual kinds of amusement. Though he was also told to be rigorous with those that failed to meet his expectations. I never felt, but feared this man's whip. And that was hardly the worst thing a lord like him could bestow upon a nobody like me! I did everything he asked of me. I showed him my body, washed his, and then I... pleasured him with my hands. I took care of his obnoxious feet. Washed them, rubbed them, let him press those clumsy, round stumps to my body and when he asked me to, I also applied my tongue to his rough, wrinkly soles. I knew he could see my reluctance. It didn't stop him. Nothing could, or would even dare to interfere with a man this mighty. Certainly not me. When my lord finally heaved his enormous ass out of the water, I felt relieve. I was done serving him and would soon be allowed to return to my daily life - or so I thought! But apparently, lord Chaidya indeed intended to make me one of his personal servants. He introduced me to a man named Madhav right away. The tiger looked big and powerful, kinda a bit rough too, and more like a soldier, or guard rather than the custodian of the palace's harem. I would henceforth be tutored by him to serve my lord even better. I bowed to him, even though my stomach churned. For the evening, though, lord Chaidya decided to keep me around despite my lack of training. We headed into the lord's chambers, which alone had to consume a quarter of the palace's extent. Gold, silver, colorful silk and only the most beautiful servants filled these sacred halls in abundance. It was hard to imagine that, mere hours ago, I was rummaging through dirt, with no other worry in mind, than to get done on time, so there would be enough curry left for me when I returned to the servant's quarters. Now, I mind every single step I take, every word I say and every glance I throw, just so I don't accidentally offend the man my life belongs to. I was led into a room with a ceiling trice as tall as everything I've seen before. Numerous candelabra were already lit, despite the lingering sun. In our quarters, we had to share three candles! "I don't think you will need this any longer," lord Chaidya suddenly spoke and indicated the light bath robe I was wearing. He wore a similar garment, although much more pompous, of course. I swallow my discomfort down and bow. "As you wish, my lord." I guess there's no going back now. No way out for me, so I better accept my new lot and behave well. Maybe he will eventually tire of me? Lord Chaidya's harem was rumored to house hundreds of men and women from every exotic corner of the realm. I doubt it's really that many, but I know it had to be at least eighty, or so of them. One of my friends worked in the kitchen and he told me that, even if no guests are around, about a hundred meals go to the harem every day. I can't be that special to hold my lord's interest for long. With nothing on but my fur, I expect to freeze, but the palace is warm. My long tail still curls around me and I have to remind myself not to cover my privates with it. Lord Chaidya doesn't like it when I do that! He casually leads me over to a large planter's chair, that was obviously crafted to support an elephant. It's legs were made of thick, sturdy wood and the seat and backrest merged into one, curved surface. It didn't have any padding, but was made from cane matting. "Sit," my lord ordered and naturally I comply. As he moves along to pour himself some wine, I take a moment to inspect the carved desk that stood right next to me. It was packed with a silver tea service that looked already used, a bowl of cashews, some sort of artistic figurines and a whole lot of books and lose papers, of which I could read nothing. There also was a little vial with a liquid in it that looked too ordinary to be here and some tantra illustrations that made me look away. What I saw then, though, was far worse! Lord Chaidya was naked as well now and came towards me. Internally, I was already begging him on hands and knees not to demand more pleasure services from me, but my outside tried its utmost best to give the self-confident man a gentle smile. I gulped, though, when I peered down to what dangled beneath his gut. After putting his wine glass down on the table, he made to reach for me and my first instinct was to fend him off. Though of course I didn't do that. I allowed his large, gray hand to push me back into the chair and then felt him grab me by the hip to adjust my position further. "Out of fairness, I'd like to advice you to keep calm, Quarin," Lord Chaidya chuckled as he looked down upon me with lewd eyes. "But I certainly don't mind if you squirm a bit." His ominous words make me even more nervous. "I... m-yes... lord..." I stutter quietly, failing to sound polite. He doesn't seem to care and simply turns. "Ah...! My lord?!" I squeak when his enormous, bare butt suddenly came forth. Again my lord didn't mind me and continued to descend his rump. I soon felt his flabby cheeks settle on my lap and noticed how warm and heavy his fat was. Anxiously I pressed myself into the taut backrest of the chair, but wasn't able to escape. He slowed down, standing crooked with his rump looming over my slender form. Though I could feel him adding more and more of his tremendous weight onto me. His round, gray hide rolled over me, buried my hip and most of my belly too. I almost lay on the giant elephant chair thanks to lord Chaidya's adjustment, and thus was in serious danger of being crushed if this continued. I already felt a strain in my knees as his thick thighs settled down on my legs. Panicking, I reared up, but couldn't pull myself from beneath his ass anymore. "Lord, Chaidya! Please, what...?" "Stay calm," he said idly, but sounding amused. "I'll be gentle with you." Though at his words, his butt sagged further and knocked a breath out of my lungs. I inhaled frantically, feeling the unstoppable weight settling on my heaving chest. "My lord, plea-uhff..." Even more weight settled on my stomach and flattened it painfully, while the elephant's sizeable buttocks spread over, engulfed and immobilized my slender body in a tight squeeze. I coughed with panic and my ribs pushed hard against the mountain of meat that was sitting down on me. My struggle didn't stop the lord, though, and finally, with one horrible creak of the chair beneath me, his entire weight settled fully on my form. "Hmrrrgh!" I held my breath, tried to move, but I was completely trapped beneath this monstrous ass, forced into the shape of the planter's chair. I tried to collect my thoughts, process what's happening here, but it hurts. Being sat on my an elephant hurts! My thighs are squeezed to the chair's seat, while my lower legs feel cold. My hip is under a lot of strain and my belly feels as though a heavy stone was put on it. I briefly consider to voice my complain, or at least beg him to get back up, but I'm too afraid of what this man might do to me if I displease him. "I knew you would be a perfect fit, Quarin," he chuckled above me. From around the elephant's obese back, I could see him reach for the wine glass and feel - literally feel! - him take a swig from it. His long trunk then picked up a book. "You are a very comfortable marten!" "Agh! Aourgh!" I suddenly shout, when he leans back on top of me and his rolling butt crushes my ribs with enough heft that I can hear them pop in my chest. I accidentally breath out and his ass immediately sinks further into me. "AURGH! L-lord Chai-d-ya...sto... uhmff... p-plwss, help!" I barely notice when he looks over his shoulder. "Shhh. Stay quiet now. I'm trying to read." A gargling plea for mercy was the last thing my lord heard of me that night, as his flabby, gray back came down further still to press me completely into the chair and thus stifle every further sound from me. I was totally crushed by this fat, naked man. Trapped between his unbearably heavy body and the caned backrest, which now cut through my fur and squeezed a pattern into the skin beneath. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, was barely able to breath with that much weight resting on my flattened chest. It was horrible! I seriously thought I would be smothered to death beneath my lord's ass that day, but I survived. I don't know how long lord Chaidya sat on me, and I don't remember when he got off, or what happened after, but I survived. [center]***[/center] I would later find myself under Madhav's tutelage and learn about my lord's predilection. The tiger was a relentless teacher and I hated him, but, in retrospect, I can't deny that he prepared me well for my new life in the harem. I was not only taught to read, so I could render poetry, but also how to behave and move alluringly, how to speak and what to say, how to dress, make my fur and what scents to use. And of course I also was taught how to be... intimate. I trained with tools, other members of the harem and also with master Madhav himself. He was rough and incredibly hard to please. I still think with dread of the first time he mounted me, though in hindsight it was nothing compared to the training I went through in order to accept an elephant into my body. It took weeks before I was able to! Relatively quickly, in contrast, I managed to find some new friends in the harem, which was a huge help in accepting my new profession. I always imagined a harem to be full of catty concubines in a constant fight for the lord's favor. Well, I mean that did happen sometimes, but most people were really friendly and supportive. Not that there was much to fight about anyway. Lord Chaidya had his favorites, but he also went round quite lavishly. Actually, there wasn't terribly much to do at all in the harem, besides intercourse, being lectured and generally looking pretty. We kept ourselves busy with the newest gossip around the palace. During all the time I spent in training, my lord never lost interest in me, as I initially had hoped. He stopped by to inspect my progress often and sometimes wanted to be served by me regardless of my still incomplete tuition. I don't know what it was about me that had him so transfixed, but over time I not only became one of his regular boys, but also one of his favorites. I served my lord many times, in many different ways. It was a tough process to feel comfortable around this lecherous man while fulfilling his eccentric fantasies, but I'm glad I can say that things did get easier for me eventually. I might not always feel at ease, but I'm content with my life. I work hard for my master. Often harder than I did as bath boy, or while weeding herb patches, I dare say. But I also live a life of luxury many can only dream about, with good food, fine robes and an ever growing affinity for the intimidating elephant that abducted a guileless marten from his humble work in the garden. Lord Chaidya is not a bad man. Demanding and strict and greedy, yes. Oh yes! But he's taking good care of me. There definitely are moments when I doubt my words, but, honestly, in general I'd say that I like serving under lord Chaidya.