[b]Naraka[/b]


I am on my knees while he stands right in front of me, his grayish green, scaled hands wrapped around my skull. I don't touch him. My arms are at my side, hands balled to fists and squeezed into my thighs. I'm not allowed to touch him just like that. Any sign of resistance, or outright distaste of what he's doing to me almost certainly leads to immediate and harsh punishment. I can only suffer in his grasp.

I keep my muzzle stretched wide open, so he doesn't feel my teeth, which might accidentally happen, considering how impetuous he moves. The last time this occurred was quite a while ago, but I still remember lively how he kicked me in the balls for it. My mouth makes squelching noises as he thrusts into it, and beside his occasional grunts, that's the only sound I hear.

My throat is sore already, but he's done this so many times to me now, that I'm kinda used to it. Having him hit the back of my throat with his nasty prick still hurts, though. Crocodiles aren't the most well-endowed folk - this one certainly isn't! - but their dicks are rigid and firm, like a bone with too little flesh on it. He doesn't care if it hurts me, he enjoys it even!

He's holding me tight and penetrates my throat with rough, ungainly motions in swift succession, to stimulate himself, while my nose gets roughed up by his scales. My eyes water from the strain, but I persevere. I don't give him the satisfaction of choking anymore, at least not too much, I just let it happen. And while I endure the abuse, the one thought that keeps me going is how I bite down as hard as I can. I obviously never would actually do it, because that would mean the end of my life in the most gruesome way imaginable, but concentrating on the fantasy gives me the strength I need to let him use me.

It takes all of six, or maybe seven minutes for him to spill his pathetic load in my throat. It's such a sparse drop that I wouldn't even notice it at all, weren't it for the disgustingly bitter taste his semen leaves behind. Well done, lord Sampath, you're such a grand man!

Once done with me, the gharial pushes me off his dick as though I'm some kind of nasty leech. I let him, because I need to catch my breath. I cough once, but then swallow every bit of pain and humiliation down. As always, my lord takes a moment to triumphantly peer down upon me with his ugly fish eyes. I know I have but a few seconds to honor him, before he gets irate and reprimands me, so I press my palms to the ground, bow my head so low that I can smell the marble's faint, musty scent and arch my back, just the way he expects of me.

"Get yourself cleaned up. We're heading out straight after my meal," Lord Sampath said rudely, before disregarding me.

"Yes, master," I reply despite his disinterest, because every time I do miss to acknowledge his commands, he will notice and act accordingly.

Glad to be separated from the man even for just a few minutes, I hurry to the little wash room in the servant's quarters to rinse my mouth, brush my fur where necessary and put on a fresh layer of scented oil. Sandalwood, because lord Sampath prefers a natural note, but doesn't want me smelling to flowery. I hate the smell of sandalwood, purely because he likes it!

Little time later, I reunite with my owner in the dining room with the open archway that leads into the ornamental garden of his palace. I like to remind myself that Lord Sampath is not my owner, because slavery is illicit in Kalpit Pradesh, but I realize I'm telling myself a lie. I work for him, but I don't get paid, or compensated. Officially I'm a free man, but I can't go where I want, can't do what I want and am not allowed to leave my lord's service. Just voicing that wish would be reason enough for him to put me in chains, merely as a reminder whom I belong to. I hate to admit it, but, the sad reality is, this man does own me. He even forces me to wear a leather collar like some beast!

Submissively I assume my position from earlier, hands and face to the ground, back arched, while Lord Sampath sits at the table to eat fish. I simply poise like that and try to ignore the enticing smell of smoked rohu. My stomach is empty and I can't remember the last time it was properly full. I'm not kneeling beside my dining lord out of courtesy, or because I don't have anything better to do. This is just another annoyance of his to make my life awful. He enjoys to let me hunger! Sometimes I go days without proper food, am barely worthy enough to have his leftovers. When I'm lucky, he allows me to beg for scraps.

The last meal I had was a small bowl of cooked, but already cold and mushy rice, the day before yesterday. He hadn't required my services yesterday, except in the evening past dinner, so I was disregarded and went to sleep empty-handed. I have long buried the hope to ever receive a decent meal from this cruel highborn. Today was no exception from the abject diet he enforced upon me.

Once my lord was done eating, I heard a snapping bone from above the table. Then a golden brown, shrivelled fish head landed on the ground before my eyes. I swallowed when the dead, paled eye met my gaze. More from hunger than from nausea. I wouldn't spurn this meal. I virtually couldn't! Though I didn't move just yet. I feel so embarrassed at how well this man has trained me. I'm not a person anymore, I'm his docile pet!

After a moment, the ponderous body of my lord moved and he raised his foot slightly to show me its underside. It was an appendage no more appetizing than the rohu carcass. The short toes were thick and armed with gnarly, crooked claws. A fine layer of dust clung to the cream-colored, scaled sole. I've seen the view many times before and know what is expected of me.

"Thank you for your graciousness, master. I am most grateful!" I say, though my voice sounds haggard and resigned. Then I press my tongue to the offered sole and worship the man that owns me.

I call him master, but the proper form of address to use would be 'my lord'. The title of master was usually reserved for priests, tutors, or an instructor. But lord Sampath insisted. He said it sounded more regal, more befitting for a lowly servant like me to speak to a lord of his magnitude with nothing but utmost respect and devotion.

After I'm done embarrassing myself beneath the gharial's foot, I shove the fish head into my muzzle and scrape off every bit of flesh and skin it held to sate my never ending hunger. My neglected stomach growled as the taste of greasy, smokey fish filled my mouth. It was a loud rumble, a desperate plea to break the circle of starvation at last.

"What was that?"

I say nothing, since my tongue is busy podding at the fish's eyes.

"Am I not feeding you enough? Is that what you mean to tell me? Charan?!" he asks, his tone that threatening growl again.

With my mouth full, I shake my head, already afraid of how long I'm going to be deprived of food  for the audacity of my body protesting to be starved. "Ghrmpf!" I wince when the foot I had adored just moments ago came down on my head to slam it against the ground and ram a pointy bone into the roof of my mouth as it did.

"Worthless cat!" the gharial groused as he pinned me down. "And that even though this is your second helping today." He held me there for a moment and watched how I continued to suck on the dead fish. Then he took his foot off my head. "Get up!"

I swallow a final gulp of oily goodness before my mouth goes dry. Naturally I obey, though keep my back hunched and my eyes low.

"Now again. Do I not feed you enough? Answer, Charan!"

I shake my head again. "Mno, yhou pwowide-- Aurgh!" He slaps my face so hard that the clap echoed through the empty dining hall and the slippery fish head slipped from my lips.

"Take that filthy garbage out of your muzzle already! Is this how you talk to your lord?!"

My cheek stings, but I don't reach up to rub it. "I am incredibly sorry for the misunderstanding, master. I was merely delighted to enjoy the treat you so generously afforded me." The mere thought of how good that fish had tasted makes my belly growl again and I fold my ears.

The gharial's long, embarrassingly narrow snout blows a hot puff of air into my face. "Delighted?" he sneers and presses his flat palm against my sunken belly. He gives my abdomen a little push, almost kindly. "Come to think of it, I did forget to feed you yesterday, didn't I?"

I say and do nothing. Every reaction could and would be used against me regardless.

"Stay here!" lord Sampath commands, relatively calmly, and then leaves. Not through the main door, though, but through the servant's entrance, where a few storage rooms and the kitchen was located.

Standing still, I waited several minutes long and contemplated whether I would get into even more trouble were I to lick the lord's plate clean. Half of his meal was still untouched, so he would probably notice. Before I could make up my mind, the stout crocodile returned - with a large bowl in his hand!

He offered it to me. "I don't want you to embarrass me by collapsing, when we're on the stroll. Eat!"

I gulp and look into the bowl. It's filled with a brown mass that doesn't look very savory, though I can smell vegetables, curry, meat, mango and papaya, something sweet and, I think, naan, or at least what's left of it. A wild mix of leftovers, no doubt, but my mouth waters at the smell. I have no other choice but to eat it anyway, so I accept the bowl.

Not daring to question the unusual kindness, I bow my head and thank the lord most humbly, before I eat. I don't care that I have to use my hand and I don't care that lord Sampath watches me the entire time. This is the closest thing to actual food I've gotten pretty much since I took service with the gharial. It tastes like a badly botched stew, kinda smoky, but it appears edible enough. I devour it all, despite the growing, devious smile on my lord's long face, and feel sated like I haven't in a long, long while. I don't even want to know what atrocious things he put in there.

"Thank you, master! Thank you for providing so well for me!" I say, because I think he expects to hear something like that. I don't know what he's scheming, but right now it doesn't really matter to me anyway. That nasty sludge was too much of a physical relief to taint it with my thoughts.

My lord's derisive grin wanes into an expression of disgust. His incredibly long jawline folds down just at the very corner of his maw and his pale yellow eyes squint at me. "You are a disgusting maggot, Charan!" he said and left no doubt that he meant every word of it. "But you honor your lord, when you obey."

I flinch slightly with the bowl still in my hands, as he moves, though I only feel his hand pat my ducked head. I accept the humiliating gesture, but don't feel at all rewarded, or praised. Before long, his strong, thick fingers take hold of my right ear and twist it as though he's scolding a kitten. Only that he's distorting my ear so harshly that I can feel how my sensitive skin there gets stretched. I don't move at all.

"You will obey me, will you?" he asked, though didn't wait for a response. "I will meet with important and influential men today. And I expect you to behave well. Don't dare to disgrace me!"

I shudder and swallow to find my voice. I know exactly whom he's going to see today, he's been looking forward to it all week. I certainly didn't share his enthusiasm. "I will always obey you, master!" I promise meekly and, after a moment, feel him release my ear. Instead his crude hand now strokes down my formerly spanked cheek.

"That's a good kitten," he said, though without the mirth one would expect from a ruler who had just received his subject's vow of loyalty. Instead his hypocritically tender touch feels more like a reminder that -he- decides whether I'm a good kitten and deserving of a bowl of glop, or if my head will be the next one to hit the ground before the rest of my body does. "I expect you in the court in ten minutes. Saddled!"

"Yes, master!" I say immediately and lower my head deeply.

When, instead of leaving, lord Sampath then simply kept standing in front of me, I took the hint and bowed myself out of the room. He was just as perceptive of the still half full plate on the table as I was and simply didn't want me to go for it in his absence - which I would have! I take the bowl with me, though, and lick it clean once I'm out of his sight.


[center]***[/center]


I use the few minutes, before my planned departure, to dress up properly and make sure I don't reek of my dinner, or the disgusting pile of shit I just fed to Charan. It's a bit unappetizing to think of what repulsive things one could find within the palace's kitchen. I might have to replace my chef. Or feed a bowl of that shit to him!

Anyway, today, at least, it came in handy. I knew Charan would eat it without objection, after he didn't get anything yesterday. Honestly, I wouldn't have bothered to fill him, but today was kinda important and I've kept him pretty starved the past two weeks especially to punish him for that pretentious look he gave we when that stupid servant spilled my wine. The last thing I need, is him to overturn and embarrass me in front of everyone! Come to think of it, him throwing up that gross extra meal wouldn't look particularly great either. Eh, we'll see how he does, I guess.

My handsome clouded leopard arrives on time and I crack a little smile when I see him hurry up as he notices my expectant stare. His irregular, dusky-grey blotches look especially appealing in the natural sun light. But he really brings his pelt off, when I place him in one of my more wilder grown garden's corners, especially with barely anything on, though I usually don't see the need to head that far out just for a nice look. I did enjoy that one time, though, when I made him cry under the acacia.

Oh, you are in your right mind to think I'm unnecessarily harsh with him, or even outright cruel. I've done some unspeakable things to that cat! If you'd ask me why, you'd probably be disappointed by the answer. It's not because I hold a grudge against him, or for something in particular that he has done. I also don't detest felines in general, quite contrary actually. I like to see them beneath us gharials in standing, I won't lie. But they are an alluring folk. I wouldn't fuck Charan if I thought otherwise.

I simply can and enjoy it. That's the explanation. I love the feeling of power I get, when I force myself upon him, humiliate him, make him do atrocious things and he takes it all and kisses my feet to thank me for it. It gets me hard when I hurt him and he grovels before me like a slave. And I absolutely enjoy the fact that I don't have to contain myself, or mind him. If he gets hurt, he'll heal and if he doesn't, I'll get myself a new toy. So far, though, he's holding up remarkably well, which only adds to my joy.

And I don't feel sorry for that cat! I've worked hard for the privilege to abuse those beneath me and get away with it. I started off as the hire to a mere spicer, then took the risky step of expanding the business to growing actual crops. During the war, I sold food to the nobles army's and the lower castes - if they could afford not to starve, that is! I took their money, gold, jewels, houses, land, daughters and it made me rich. Today I occupy the office of lord, control one-eighth of Kalpit Pradesh's commerce and thus am one of its mightiest merchants. No one will rise their voice, or even care, when I mangle a low-born cat for my amusement!

Charan eventually arrives right in front of me and, as I've taught him, greets me properly. He gets down on his knees, hunches his back and lowers his face until he is on eye-level with my feet, where a worthless menial like him belongs. "I am at your service, master," he announces resigned and I smile with satisfaction when I see my favorite tool snugly sitting on his slender, spotted back.

"Let's not waste any more time then," I say and nudge his head with my foot.

Behaving well, he sits up immediately and even turns his back to me, so I don't have to take but one unnecessary step. I take one more second to admire the sight of his bowed form. The darkened leather straps of the harness cut through his plush fur and his back was covered by the inviting seat Charan presented to me. A simple wooden platform, lightly padded and formed to fit my butt with a generous recess for my thick tail. I take place on it and hold onto Charan's shoulders.

My well-trained, little servant waits patiently until I give him the command, "Up!" before he makes to stand.

I feel a gentle push from the saddle I'm sitting on and then a soft shaking when Charan's knees tremble as he pushes us up. My broad butt gets pressed into the little seat and eventually my feet  lift off the ground while the leopard beneath me grunts and puffs. It takes a few seconds until he's standing fully upright again. Or, well, mostly upright. With my weight added onto his back, he's got no other option but to lean forward to keep balance. I can only imagine how uncomfortable that must be. He doesn't complain, of course, only takes a moment to get used to the burden and catch his breath. I swiftly give him new orders.

"Move it already, I don't want to be late."

"Y-yes, master..." he grates out, obviously under a lot of pressure. I wouldn't call myself fat, maybe a little sturdy, which is not uncommon for gharials, but I guess I still weigh nearly twice as much as the cat. This is aggravated by the fact that, while not exactly tiny, clouded leopards definitely are a bit smaller than lions, or tigers for example.

Charan is hardly cut out for this form of transportation, but that's not my problem. Heh, no it really isn't, it's actually more of a pleasure. I love it when he sweats under me! When his light frame has to withstand the superiority of my heavy ass. I will bend and bow this cat every way I see fit.

When I look down upon him and see his arms hooked beneath my knees, so I can sit comfortably on him, I must admit that his frame isn't as light anymore as it was when I purchased him. His arms and legs have gotten visibly buff and his back feels nice and firm now, when he crooks it for me. It's not the look I bought him for, but I don't dislike his growth spurt either. It shows his suffering and hard work for me. And it also kinda feels empowering to dominate a more mature, sturdier feline.

Sturdier he might be by now, but I still do a number on him. His steps are heavy and ungainly with the added weight and I can feel and hear his labored breathing. He's looking straight ahead and goes about his task with a stoic rhythm, which I'm only too pleased to disrupt!

"Watch it! I'm sliding down too far," I complain and pull myself up on his shoulders to scoot my butt left and right a bit, before I flop down again.

He grunts loudly and bends over further to counterbalance my selfish action. "I'm, hff... sorry, master..."

Slowly me and my little retinue move onwards over my palm-lined esplanade, into the city beyond. My personal guard accompanies me, of course, as well as a few servants, my scribe, my purser, a bard and two dancers, a water carrier, my stable master with an adequate mount in tow in case Charan buckles, and my steward. And the guy that has to walk in front of me, I guess. Just the essentials, really. He's there, by the way, to guide Charan, so I don't have to shout him directions all the time. This stupid cat wouldn't be able to find the way out of his own ass!

Even amongst my staff I get some odd looks now and then, when I ride Charan like this, but most of them got used to the sight. It's indeed a rather unfitting way for a lord to travel - uncommon, but not unheard of! Most lords use litters, or rickshaws, some carriages. But this piggyback harness was more in use with the ordinary people. Back in the day, when I expanded my father's business, I used to ride a servant I hired for that exact purpose. I always liked how that felt, so I guess it became a habit. I certainly don't see a reason to stop having people carry me around, just because I'm a lord now. If anything, that's even more reason to ride those beneath me!

It takes us about two hours to arrive at our destination, the edge of lord Chaidya's estates. I normally would expect to be received inside his palace, but the elephant said he'd have discussions prior to our meeting, which probably would take longer than expected and make a proper welcome difficult. He also said it would be fun to pick me up on the way. I still don't know what he meant by that, but that fat ass always has a surprise in store. We're good friends and share a few 'interests', so I don't mind the unusual treatment too much.

Charan is swaying pretty hard by now and has slowed down to a shuffle. The fact that he made it this far, isn't terribly surprising to me, for I tend to punish him pretty hard when he breaks under me. He's panting for a chug of water, which partially might be attributed to the hand I've stuck beneath his already tightly sitting leather collar. But since we arrived a tad early, due to me arranging enough time for my beast of burden to haul me all the way here, I decide to ride him further into the gardens to find a shady spot to wait.

Eventually I bring my poor, exhausted mount to a stop under a large tree right beside the main road and Charan drops to his knees with a pained groan to let me off. I do so and reciprocate his drudging effort with a half-assed, "Well done, Charan," while he collapses in the grass to relieve the pressure on his back with a muffled whine.

I observe the writhing leopard for a moment and bask in his agony. It makes me feel mighty and sublime to be the cause of this. Right then, I didn't even mind that he forgot to acknowledge my compliment as he rightfully should have. See? I can show mercy. And I'll even double down on it!

I snap my fingers and wink the water boy over. It's a young chinkara with small horns, but big ears and he responds immediately. The large, lidded copper pot he carried on a pole, which was balanced at the other end with a stone, is put down and he bows deeply to me, the rest of his utensils clattering on his belt. "My lord?"

"Make sure that this sorry sight drinks. I still need him today."

"At once, lord Sampath!" the gazelle responds with another bow and crouches down beside Charan. Hastily he fills a cup with water and brings it to the cat's muzzle. He gulps it down eagerly.

"And you, get me a chaas!" I call to one of the other servants, to quench my own thirst.

Time passes and I use the chance to let my eyes wander over Chaidya's extensive gardens and plantations. They easily surpass my own landholdings fivefold and beyond them the elephant's palace rises so tall that my abode would fit within the shadow it casts. Numbers are numbers, but this sight always reminds me that my 'friend' is probably richer than the fucking Maharaja himself! The thought that, no matter how far you've come, there always will be someone who outdoes you, aggravates me.

Quickly done with my gawking, I seek diversion elsewhere and, inevitably, my eyes land on the still prostrated cat again. I snap my fingers. "Charan! Come here!"

I can see his ears twitch and his tail curl tighter around him, so he did hear me, doesn't respond immediately, however. I give him five more seconds, then call again, more emphasized this time and he stirs, although reluctantly. He was slouching and didn't look at me, every step he took visibly hurt him, but he came to me. "Master...?" he asked wearily, bowing his head, but omitting to kneel down for me. It's unlike me, but I let it slip.

"Get down, I need a place to sit!"

Now he does look up at me. And those tired, dark eyes that lost their glow a long time ago, give me a look of despair. I only raise my muzzle expectantly and give him a stare that makes sure he understands what will happen should he disobey.

Charan averts his gaze and shudders. "Yes, master..." he whimpers and hesitantly opens the buckles of his harness to remove the saddle on his back. He then arduously lowers himself to his hands and knees and humbly offers his maltreated back to me.

Not out of kindness, but merely to avoid getting my robe dirty, should he fall, I sit down slowly, but make sure he bears my entire weight. I feel his slender back sag under my butt and hear his anguished groaning. Kindly I put a hand to Charan's cheek, rub my thumb over it and then move lower to cup his chin and raise his head. He peers up at me with pleading eyes, to which I grin patronizingly.

"You're doing good," I say, with the slightest bit of honesty. "Be this virtuous in front of my friends and I might reward you."

"Yes, master," he said, a bit stiffly with his throat stretched like this.

"But if you mess up," I growl and stretch his throat a bit further still, "I will burn your tail with a hot iron and pickle it in brine. Am I understood?"

His wet eyes blink at me and he croaks another, "Yes, m-master..." before I release his head.

We wait like this for another quarter-hour maybe and, much to my satisfaction, Charan doesn't collapse, or begs me for a breather even once. And at long last, the richest of lords finally arrived. The sight doesn't however put a smile on my face. Quite contrary!

Chaidya humbles me and my pathetic entourage with a parade of over a hundred man, led by his very own means of transportation: A ludicrously gargantuan palanquin, carried by about three dozen drudging foxes!

I grumble as I raise from my seat, which, in turn, sighs with relieve. I see Amir's striped from on the palanquin as well, which explains why I was put off here. I know from experience that Chaidya prefers to talk business bilaterally, when possible. And I'm also aware that he and the tiger share a few inclinations that the elephant isn't fond of acting out with me. Not that I'm particularly envious of that! I'm not too prude to witness, or even partake in a little orgy, it can be quite enjoyable. But some things these two are into, I simply deem beneath me.

The massive palanquin moves incredibly slowly, so I've got enough time to rouse my servantry and make sure they look busy and as though I intended to travel lightly. Had I known that I'd be facing such a procession, I would have brought out the big guns. Now I'm left with two belly dancers, wiggling to a lone bansuri.

"Get up," I whisper to Charan and try to keep cool and collected as my host slowly approaches. A last jab towards my pretty cat helps me to relax. "You will do nothing without me saying so. And you won't talk, unless I grant my permission. Got it?"

The svelte feline stands and unobtrusively stretches his back with a soft exhale of fatigue. "Yes, master."

We then wait in silence for Chaidya's palanquin to close the remaining distance between us, but at some point I flout formality and simply walk up to them until the army of foxes halt before me. This was supposed to be a casual gathering anyway and I'm known for my big mouth besides.

I feel small, talking to them from down here, but swallow my pride, greet them casually and make a  half-hearted joke about the elephant's exaggerated presentation, to which he only says, "It's supposed to be a joyous day, so I might as well savor the brief journey with some pomp." He waves a hand at the mass of servants in his wake and the clunky jewelled rings on his fat fingers glisten in the sun.

At that moment I'm glad that gharials are generally perceived as grumpy-looking, due to our elongated muzzle and rather inflexible jaw, because I absolutely fail to uphold my smile. That bloated rodomont! I briefly consider to whistle over my steward to have him rush some embellishment from my place, to diminish my humiliation. But calling for backup now would look desperate.

When the overbearing elephant eventually makes a move to command his miserably looking legion of Bengal foxes to lower his transport, I seize my opportunity and raise a hand to stop him. "Don't bother," I say tersely and, to indicate a bit of impatience for keeping me waiting here, add, "No need to hold us up any longer than necessary."

Casually, but loudly and with authority, I then snap my fingers and Charan steps forth like a summoned animal. Before he can bow to me, though, I give him a whispered, "Down!" and inconspicuously point down before my feet. He gets the hint, doesn't acknowledge me and swiftly lays down on the street.

I'll show this trunk face some pomp!


[center]***[/center]


The sight of the giant palanquin gave me a bit of hope. At least I wouldn't have to carry my lord anymore, since there was no way he would travel more humbly than his hosts. I knew lord Sampath that well. I also should have known, that he would take every chance he got to show me off and torture me some more. I'm so sick of it. I can barely keep myself upright anymore!

But I have no other choice but to obey. Failing him in front of these other lords would mean a terrible punishment and my master has a lot of fantasy for this kind of retribution. So I swiftly follow his discreet order and lay down flat on my chest in front of him. I know what he's planning and am terribly afraid this will end in disaster!

I all but immediately feel lord Sampath step onto my back and have to bite my tongue not to cry out in pain when his weight knocks the air out of me. He's already inconsiderate on a regular day, but right now he is irate and in that state he holds absolutely no mercy for me. His insanely heavy foot stands right on my already sore spine and squeezes my lower half flat, while his other foot makes it hard for me to draw new breath. In my agony I notice a few of the litter bearer foxes looking down at me with pitying eyes and I wish for nothing more than to live one of their lives instead of this nightmare.

The gharial snaps his fingers again to catch my attention and then hisses, "Up!"

For my own safety I absolutely cannot disappoint this man right now, so I take one labored breath, then another and finally hold it in and tense my entire body. I push myself off the ground and, in agony, feel my shoulders and hip rise. Though the middle of my back, where the crocodile stands on me, is glued to the street beneath me. I feel a strain in my backbone so intense already, that it would be insane to push my body further past this point, but I do.

"Auhrrrgh...!"

I find enough leverage to lift my chest entirely off the ground and my sternum feels as though it was broken in two. Bend around my master's warm soles like this, I wheeze for a moment with wide open eyes, before I stretch my midsection and lift my hip further up to elevate my lord. My body makes horrible sounds and the row of brown foxes in front of my eyes became blurred, but I managed to raise to my hands and knees. I knew this wouldn't be enough.

My spine sagged beneath the heavy crocodile that stood on me and I was beyond pain by that point. My body was numb and throbbing, safe for the massive pinch deep inside me. I groaned desperately through grit teeth, then forced myself further up.

Carefully and wobbly, I put my hands to the ground, first one, then the other, while slowly pushing me up. I then pressed my toes and claws into the sand and heaved up my hip to keep my back somewhat level. A dangerous tremor formed in my right knee and I felt as though the sludge I've had for lunch wanted to see daylight again. I stifled both grievances and pushed the lord on my back as far up as I possibly could. If I break now, his fat ass would possibly end my life when it landed on me.

"Haghhh!"

With an agonizing pain that spread though my dorsal regions, I felt lord Sampath shift on top of me. His right foot lifted and the left one got pressed even harder against my ribs, until they popped under his ungainly step. When a moment later, my form finally got relieved of his weight, I simply collapsed.

I felt... I felt as though my life was worthless. I just got mauled and no one bat an eye, or helped me. No one cared. Not lord Sampath. Not his servants. None of the other lords, or anyone else of the hundred people present. I was just disregarded like a piece of trash. I close my eyes when I hear a loud snap with the fingers.

"Charan, get up here! You can take a rest at my feet and look pretty for my friends."

I inhale deeply and feel that the area where my lord had stood on me was oddly stiff. My limbs still tremble and I'm close to crying, though no tears come. I've shed them all long ago and am but a husk of my former self anymore. "Yes, master..." I announce with a hoarse voice and stir.

I wince and use the last bit of strength I have left, to pull myself up onto the palanquin. Exhausted I crawl towards my lord and, as instructed, lay down by his feet. With envy I look at the big pillow the gharial had situated himself on, while I feel the hard wood beneath my bones. I accidentally met my lord's gaze and quickly lowered my head. Though in the brief second we looked at each other, I think he realized that I was at the end of my rope. At the very end of it!

Lord Sampath disregarded me and occupied himself with his acquaintances for the time being, which I am grateful for. I use the time well and rest as best I can. It was a strong urge, but the one thing I mustn't do was fall asleep, for that would have disgraced my lord. So I tried to appear at ease and observed what happened around me.

My lord makes an absolute fool of himself, demanding drinks and entertainment, just to compete with lord Chaidya's decadence. I know of his common roots, and the other two lords are likely aware of it as well, though I still wonder why they put up with such a man. Maybe his attitude is just amusing to them?

I try not to stare, but my eyes keep lingering on the tiger, lord Amir, and the picture-perfect civet that accompanies him. They seem to have a relationship very unlike me and my superior. The tiger caresses his servant and gets liberally fondled in turn. Over time the civet moves into the significantly older, yet still handsome lord's lap. I look away.

Believe it or not, but I got voluntarily into this trade.

I hail from a very poor village, which was basically ruled by a priest family. They kept a pretty conservative grip around the small community and shamelessly bend our religion to benefit them. My family lived in poverty, I couldn't find work and, in an environment this backwoods, I also couldn't find love, or at least companionship. And due to my predilection, I also couldn't take a wife, so I left.

I was uneducated and without a trade, though I was blessed with youth and good looks, so I went to a local nobleman with a certain reputation. He was a very discreet noble, unremarkable. But rich! He trained and pandered women to harems all over the country. Boys too! He accepted me and I learned the trade from him. I won't say that this kind of work was as easygoing and pleasant as I imagined it would be, but I had food, a roof over my head and could explore my desires.

Eventually it was time for me to find a permanent position in someone's harem, so I traveled with my tutor to present me and others to potentially interested parties. It was a glorious time full of luxury, festivities and sex. I got to wear the finest jewels, ate like a god and danced so seductively that only few men could resist me.

Then I finally got employed - by lord Sampath!

He was a pretty gruff, direct man from the onset and I thought he just... needed some encouragement and time to embrace his time with me. He wasn't the most appealing noble I ever bedded with, but I tried my best to be a good pleasure boy and entertain him well. Nothing seemed to work, though, and he only treated me worse by the day. My nightmare began, when I found the courage to address his lacking empathy.

I open my eyes when I feel a nudge from my lord and already fear he's going to abuse me again, though thankfully he had a different target. Quite violently he forces one of the poor Bengal foxes that carry the palanquin, to suck off the equine erotic actor. They had him and his partner called up here to perform, at some point, but I didn't care enough to actively watch them. I don't need to be reminded of the best thing in the world that will never feel good for me again. Not as long as this cruel gharial is the only man in the world I am allowed to sleep with.

Once we arrive at what the three lords only called a 'getaway', I look up at a small pleasure palace that stood on an elevated citadel like plateau and was surrounded by neat gardens. And by small, I mean approximately half of lord Sampath's palace. I assume this one belongs to lord Chaidya. We are received with cheerful music, dancers, acrobats, drinks and a finely arranged group of pleasure workers of all sizes, forms and colors.

I don't care for all the excitement, it's not for me to enjoy. Though I do perk up when the elephant and lord Amir both dismiss their attendants to be led into the actual palace by the flock of beauties. Apparently, what has been prepared here, was an event only meant for the lords themselves to behold. I don't give a fuck, as long as that means I'll get some time away from my tormentor!

He's currently in a conversation with the elephant, though before they enter the palace, he approaches me. Lord Sampath stands right in front of me, though his cunning, protruding eyes stare past me in a wide circle over the beautiful garden's amenities that have been prepared for those lesser beings that have to wait outside, which would include me. Sundar and Chaidya's Nilgiri marten are already sauntering towards a decorated pavilion that entices with soft pillows, cold drinks and hookahs. Eventually my lord's cold, yellow eyes settle on me.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, though without concern in his voice.

There's not much I can say besides, "I'm at your service, mas--"

"Speak freely!" he grouses impatiently.

I swallow. "I am quite exhausted, master," I admit and consider to beg him to send me home, since I'm pretty much about to break if he demands another stunt like the one in Chaidya's garden from me. Though I decide against it. He doesn't like to be told what to do, especially not from me.

The crocodile growls inwardly, as though what he's about to say was difficult. "You've been... passable so far," he begins. "Not that that's a feat, while lolling on the ride, but whatever. You've also been noticed. I presume I'll be needing you again later this evening."

My shoulders droop and I have to suppress a shudder at those news. "I'm... at your service, master..." I reply and fail to keep the fatigue and dread out of my voice.

"Take advantage, while we're here," he then says unexpectedly and again looks past me. "See it as motivation to sit through the night, you have my permission." He huffs an annoyed breath through his long nose. "I'm not going to expect miracles from you after our ride, but I don't have to remind you that this gathering, however informal it may be, does bear significant importance to my reputation, do I?!"

I shake my head.

"Just mind your damn manners and don't embarrass me. If you do well, I'll cut you some slack tomorrow." The little sigh tells me that he's actually concerned enough over today, to keep his word. Though his lenient side is more than fragile and he swiftly resumes to staring me down. "But if you mess this up, I'll chop your pickled tail off and feed it to you!"

I bow my head to him. "Yes, master. I understand."

"And go wash up, while you're at it, before you start to attract blowflies. You smell like a piece of shit!"

Humiliated, I bow a bit lower still. "Yes, master."

With a final grumble, he then leaves me standing to follow the other lords into the building.

I relax my posture some and feel how my flesh is pulled towards the earth. I am insanely tired and just want to find a warm corner to sleep, but I'll save that plan for later. It might merely be more than my lord's concern that I won't make it through the evening without some incentive, or the fact that he simply doesn't want anyone to think lesser of him for being accompanied by a servant that gets treated worse than those of the other lords, but he did give me permission to savor my stay here. And, no matter where that more than rare bout of generosity came from, I'm not going to pass up the chance to feel like a person again!

Before long my nose involuntarily leads me towards a large tent, beneath which a little cooking area was situated. The spicy smell of grilled seekh kebabs paired with the actual opportunity to taste them, makes my mouth water. I'm not even terribly hungry, after being fed whatever it was that lord Sampath had scraped up in the palace kitchen, but I stuff myself nonetheless and wash the blessing down with some sura to ease the pain in by back. I would actually prefer to drink myself to oblivion, but I mind to keep my senses together.

To be completely honest, maybe it would be worth it to lose my tail, just to see lord Sampath embarrassed in front of the entire party by his worthless slave. I'm fairly certain, though, that this cruel monster would never let me forget this day and keep me in constant pain until the merry day he finally sends me to the gods.

Full, tipsy and just as depressed as before, I eventually hunker down on a large pidda chair by a fire. It's dark by now and this seating area was completely empty, so I thought it would be a good spot to spent the rest of my unexpected breather, until my master decides to destroy the rest of my spine to show off to his 'friends'. I don't bother to mingle with the other servants. I'm used to being alone. Lord Sampath makes sure to punish any underling of his who dares to show kindness to me, so they all shun me. I'm so sunken into my misery that I don't notice the soft-footed steps in the grass behind me.

"That's Chaidya's spot you're sitting on." The voice was mellow, but sharp.

Before I look at the man that approached me, I suddenly realize that the chair I'm sitting on is indeed elephant-sized. Three similar chairs encircle the fire pit and smaller, simpler ones are placed between them. Immediately I mean to stand up. "I'm sorry, I d--" Though a hand on my shoulder pushes me back down.

"Oh no, don't bother to get up because of me," the man says with a chuckle. I finally look up and find lord Amir's civet servant grin at me. His long, pointy face is handsome and looks a bit cheeky. Big, dark eyes stare down at me curiously. "I doubt they're even going to come here tonight. Not when there's a softer place to sit inside."

He's probably right and I frown at the sheer decadence. They have a noble seating area set up for nothing here and at home, I'm sleeping on a wooden plank bed with nothing more than a jute bag as blanket.

"Your name is Charan, right? I'm Sundar," he says as he settles down right beside me on the large chair.

I'm a bit surprised by his straight forwardness, but accept the company. Sundar is not shy and scoots right up to me. His warm shoulder feels nice against mine. "I've seen you before," I say a bit awkwardly. It's scary how forlorn you can feel in a normal conversation when all you're ever allowed to say amounts to 'yes, master'.

"So did I," the slender civet reveals. He's still young, but looks a bit older then me, if I had to guess. "It's nice to finally get the chance to say hello. Why didn't you join us at the chhatri? It's a lot more cozy there."

"I... just wanted to rest for a bit..."

Sundar's near-black, glistening eyes look straight into mine with a melancholic pity. I'm used to receive those looks. "I can't blame you for that. You looked exhausted," he says, minding his tone. "You still look exhausted, if I may say so. Our lords don't make it easy for us sometimes, do they?" To share his empathy, he puts a hand to my back.

My sore muscles rejoice under the soft, warm touch and I feel my fur bristle, when Sundar slowly drags his palm down my spine. It's such a gentle touch, but it feels so unbelievably good next to all the abuse I'm taking daily. "N-no..." I croak, desperately hoping that he doesn't remove his hand, which he unfortunately does after a moment. Only cold pain remains.

"I don't mean to pry, but I've heard some uncomplimentary rumors about lord Sampath?"

I open my mouth with the urge to tell him how right he was, though I hold my tongue. There is but the slightest of chance, though if my lord ever finds out I talk unfavorably about him behind his back, my physical integrity might be forfeit! It's embarrassing to remain silent, but I fear this man too much to partake in some gossip. Sundar notices, which embarrasses me even more.

Though instead of commiserating me further, he nudges my shoulder and tries to cheer me up with a gentle smile. "Would you like to come over with me? Chaidya's belly dancers are a real eyeturner! And they've been going at it for us the whole time. Would be a shame to miss on that. I swear that jackal is making eyes at me."

I allow his kindness to jump over to me and give him a little smile back, although a tired one. "I would like that, yes..."