It was a stunning sight to behold, really. The room itself was suitable to be a home all its own, with two levels of flooring, a massive amount of space, and an attached greenhouse-style garden. The Lady had always had quite the eye for décor, and it certainly showed through most in her bedchambers. The room somehow managed to remain quite modest and non-intimidating, while leaving not a single shred of doubt that this bedroom belonged to a member of high society. The furniture was constructed with a fine olive-ash burl veneer that matched beautifully with the mixture of light, natural greens and dark, passionate reds that made up the room's overall color palette. This high-class furniture was counterbalanced by the paintings adorning the wall—all of which were personal photographs and hand-drawn pictures in wooden frames that contained obvious sentimental value. They were tastefully scattered throughout the room, decorating nearly every inch of the room's massive walls, hung at a whim. And in a corner of the room that had been deliberately lowered to provide a greater sense of privacy, an extravagant canopied bed, with floor-to-ceiling curtains. The Lady very much appreciated her privacy.

And this fact was unsurprising, once you took a closer look into the room and spotted what was perhaps The Lady's most prized possession of all. There, tethered via a collar and leash to the post of the canopy bed, was her personal slave.

Like many members of royalty, The Lady had quite a taste for the exotic. It came as no surprise, then, that such tastes should extent to her choice in slaves. He was from a unique tribe of Blossom Bat—one of only a few anthropomorphic members of his species left. What transitioned him from exotic to absolutely unique, however, was his partial albinism, leaving most of his fur a skin-tone cream color, as well as a little bit of red fur on and around his ears, grown slightly longer than the rest (as instructed by The Lady, of course.)

His personality, however, was much more of what's expected from such a small, pray species. Standing at only five feet tall to The Lady's six, he was very meek. Even alone, his body language portrayed this, as his head was bowed ever so slightly in submission. He had been born in the mansion, and this was the only life he knew.

The next major surprise would come if you were to look yet closer at the slave. As an almost imperceptible, but undeniable smile gently adorned the bat's face, which was certainly unusual for a slave in that particular castle. He sat in his smaller bed, nestled at the side of it's larger, canopied counterpart, with his knees drawn slightly towards his chest, supporting a small Saikei garden that he was tending to dutifully. Penjing—miniature gardening—was his one hobby, which The Lady generously allowed him to engage in once he finished his various tasks for the day. Chances are that if he wasn't tending to the Garden, straightening up the room, or servicing The Lady, he was exactly where he is now—in his small, but comfortable, bed, tending gently to one of his many miniature gardens, a skill he had learned from his mother. The Lady had actually taken quite a liking to them—as they were both beautiful decorations and a great, unusual conversation starter.

In fact, The Lady frequently had him show them off—she loved the opportunity to show off both the decorations and her slave. She also loved to watch the blush show through his fur as the shower of compliments to both he and his gardens embarrassed him to no end—though despite that, there would be an even larger smile on his face at these times, as he took great pride in his penjing.

His relaxed demeanor immediately changed to an excited one, though, as the turning of the door's handle singled to him that The Lady had returned. He placed his garden gently back onto the nearby dresser, where it belonged, as his mistress strolled over to her bed without a word.

Very few words were exchanged between him and The Lady. After all, he had been raised as her slave, and had done nothing else his entire life—he was acutely aware of her needs much in the way that a long-time lover would be (and indeed, serviced those needs frequently as well.) Words were often an unnecessary burden. He removed her shoes and began to help her out of her outerwear, folding and setting aside each piece to be washed later.

Still silent, she laid back onto the bed and gestured to her feet. This was a signal he knew well, and he immediately gave a soft nod as he crawled to her feet and picked one up to massage it. The bat was proud of what he did, and even a simple footrub was a tender affair to which he would dedicate himself to in full. He gently massaged her soles and the back of her feet, before stooping down and giving each toe a gentle kiss. The Lady had a slight foot fetish, and while these massages were sometimes simply what they appeared to be, they would other times serve as gentle foreplay.

Lady Nyla gave a gentle sigh as he switched to the other foot, glad to be done with the day's events and back with her favorite slave. While not exactly a recluse, she never really did have a taste for the social aspects of high society. She attended that which she knew she had to in order to maintain her station, but she much preferred the solace of her bedroom and the company of her servants and close friends.

“The garden looks great today, Blossom. I can smell the flowers from here. What have you grown in there today?”

“Thank you, M'Lady. Mostly Hibiscus and Spider Lilies today, with some chamomile as well as the usual fruits and vegetables.”

“Wonderful. Would you go fill a vase with them and bring it to my bedside dresser?”

“Gladly, M'Lady!” Blossom responded, gently placing The Lady's foot back onto the bed and moving calmly, but quickly, over to the garden.

And this is where the other reason that Blossom is such a favorite of The Lady shows through. Many of the species in the world were capable of some form of 'magic' (though the use of the word was often discouraged despite the conspicuous lack of a better term.) Blossom's species' was special, actually, in it's lack of affiliation to any sort of school of magic. Instead, they possessed only one ability, unique to their race, that no other could perform.

As he walked through the garden, gently cutting various flowers, he would also pull a small seed from a set of pouches kept in cupboard in the greenhouse. He gently pressed it into the dirt, and then placed his hand over it—and with a light glow, a new plant would rapidly grow in to replace the old one.

This skill alone is what inspired Lady Nyla to have the garden put in when her room was constructed. His task, every day, was to replant every garden. This is what occupied most of his time in a day—gently harvesting the edibles and using his magic to wilt the rest of the plants before adding them to the compost heap. The food that he planted was part of a very special deal with Lady Nyla—the ladies were generally forbidden by the King to allow slaves to practice magic, for fear of that magic being used in a revolt. Lady Nyla, however, had struck a deal with Blossom once he had earned her trust. In exchange for not reporting this to the King (even slaves were generously rewarded for reporting such things), she allowed him to grow a garden of food which he was allowed to share with other slaves in their quarters (despite the fact that he, himself, generally slept in her chambers instead.)

He promptly returned with the bouquet and went to the kitchen to fetch a vase. When he returned, he was greeted with the stunning sight of a fully-disrobed Lady Nyla. He hesitated for just a moment before forcing him to keep walking. Despite a lifetime in her service, her body never ceased to stun him. She was a beautiful white-and-gray vixen—a Kitsune, as she referred to her species—and despite her height, carried herself with a great amount of grace. Her fur was always neatly trimmed, allowing her gorgeous figure to show through—a model-quality physique, but one born of athleticism, not of starvation. That neatly trimmed fur also allowed her pert nipples to show through, sitting perfectly atop her modest C-cups. In her hand she held a book—Lady Nyla was an avid reader, and was very rarely found without her nose buried in a book at home.

Lady  Nyla, however, wasn't exactly one-hundred percent  lady.  In fact, between her legs she was very, very male—no slit to be found. Her sheath and balls were trimmed with the same meticulousness as the rest of her fur—a fact he was very aware of, as he was the one to trim her.

And as she stood, he took his cue to do exactly that, following her into the bathroom and fetching the necessary equipment. Roughly an hour later, they emerged—her nose still buried in her book as they walked. She laid back on the bed and read for a moment more, before taking mental note of her page and shutting her book.

“That was very relaxing, Blossom. I'd love a massage to follow that up.” she said, and same as before, he acknowledged it as he moved into position to do it. Lady Nyla scarcely ever worded her orders as an actual command—she treated her pets right and instilled loyalty in them, and Blossom especially was more than willing to do this for her without being ordered. He set to work giving her a gentle massage, slowly working his way deeper into the muscle tissue as he swept his way up and down her back with various kneading, pulling, pinching, and chopping motions. This set of actions, too, lasted about another hour, as he moved on from her back and massaged her legs and arms as well. And while he was happy just to give her a massage and lay with her, he couldn't help but become excited in anticipations of where these massages usually lead.

“Mmmm... Wonderful again, Blossom. Sometimes I forget that you're even a slave—no lover has ever given me a massage that tender.” Her words brought a blush to his face—an admittedly easy feat, given his meek nature—and she turned over, presenting her front and giving him a view of her already-hardening cock poking out of her sheath. “Now, present yourself.”

He barely managed to whimper out a “Yes, M'Lady,” as he began to harden in anticipation. He got onto his knees beside her, sitting upright and spreading his legs to present his groin to her. Her soft furred fingers began to immediately caress his torso, stopping momentarily to tweak and rub his nipples or play with his ears, coaxing him to a full erection before even beginning to trail down his body. Her other hand began to gently roll his balls around in her fingers, kneading them pleasurably while the first hand teasingly drew it's way down his stomach towards the aching hard-on waiting for her. Even a seasoned slave like Blossom couldn't hold back a gasp as her hand wrapped around his shaft, not that she would have wanted him too—she loved hearing his moans, and was pleased as she earned more of them when she began to teasingly stroke his shaft.

Blossom's focus was simply on remaining still—made harder still as she began to occasionally twirl her furred fingers around the head of his cock, lightly overstimulating him and making him shudder and whimper. He knew better than to ask her to go faster—she was lenient in many ways that the other ladies of the castle weren't, but sex went at her pace, or not at all. All he could do was sit back and enjoy it, letting out the cute little moans that she loved to hear.

Finally, the pace began to increase at a steady rate, her stroking hand slowly working it's way up to a normal pace. He began using his usually tricks, controlling his breathing and his muscles to preserve his endurance, but that ended quickly when his Lady spoke yet again.

“This is just foreplay, Blossom—the main event is yet to come. Don't hold a single drop back.” The gentle, sensual smile on her face earned another whimper from Blossom, as his experience told him exactly what she planned to do. Her shaft was still fully erect, a small drop of pre present on its tip. She loved taking his rear, but she preferred a much more natural lubricant to the harsh, artificial ones used so commonly. And she intended to coax that lubricant out of him.

His moans and whimpers reached a crescendo as the edge approached. She wanted to use his cum to help her fuck him, but she always preferred him horny when she took him—which means that there was no way he would be having a full orgasm. And the loud whimper as he reached his climax signaled exactly that, as the stroking hand ceased its motions the moment he went over the edge and instead a single fingertip bent his cock downwards, her other hand collecting his cum as his cock twitched in protest at the ruined orgasm.

“Flat on the bed, slave. I want that beautiful ass of yours tight tonight. And not another word.” Her voice was still tender, despite the rare formal order from her. He silently assumed the position she had referred to, laying flat on his stomach on the bed, with his legs spread slightly. This position was a favorite of hers, as the inability to spread his cheeks fully both kept him tight and allowed her to thrust at full force without either of them experiencing the pain of bottoming out, as at seven inches, she was slightly too large to comfortably thrust at full speed in more open-legged positions(though that rarely stopped her from somehow forcing her knot in during her climax.)

She let out a gentle coo at the sight, spreading his ass gently with her clean hand so that she could smear his cum onto his ass. And in return, he let out a low moan as her first finger began to penetrate him, twisting and thrusting to loosen him up. A second finger soon joined the first, causing Blossom to gently hump back against them, simultaneously rubbing his shaft into the soft silk sheets below him. Lady Nyla seemed particularly impatient tonight, however, as despite the slow, teasing work-up, this was something she had been looking forward to all day. Blossom whimpered when the fingers withdrew—whimpered out of both the emptiness his ass felt and the fullness he knew was coming as he felt her shaft line up with his hole.

But that fullness didn't come.

See, Lady Nyla loved embarrassing Blossom. A comfortable position like this was a rare treat, as she was usually quite partial to spreading him wide and exposing him for her, and anyone else in the room, to see. So it seemed she was going to embarrass him in another way, today...

She was going to make him beg for it.

He tried to resist—tried so hard. But years of being fucked on a semi-nightly bases have turned it from a habit into a full-on addiction. He needed a cock in him—needed her cock in him. And normally, he would get it—while their lovemaking sessions were always tender, she knew what she wanted, and rarely wasted time in riding his ass long into the night. Instead, today, she was grinding that amazing, wonderful, delicious cock into the crack of his ass, stopping momentarily to poke and prod at his entrance. He squirmed, gripped the sheets, balled his hands into firsts, and pushed back against her. She had told him not to talk—and he wanted to be a good boy, he wanted to so badly. He knew he'd be punished if he talked. But she had to be doing this on purpose—she was humping his ass so earnestly that her knot was even starting to take form, and as pent up as she was, she might blow her load all over his back and deny him any pleasure at all if this keeps up...

“PLEASE, LADY NYLA!” he finally gasped, caving in as she began teasing his nipples while she humped him. “Please fuck me... I'm so sorry for breaking orders, but please... I NEED it...” his voice trailed off into a whimper.

“Awww, I know you do, Blossom. But I still can't let you get away with disobeying me so directly...” She whispered into his ears seductively. He knew better than to contradict her—and at this point, he wasn't sure he cared, as long as he got fucked. She would change that, though. She detached his leash from the bed and began to pull him out of the room. “Come!”

She grabbed a small harness from her dresser drawer on the way out, nearly inciting a protest out of him—he knew better, but terror had been added to his arousal at mere sight of the harness. It was an ordinary strap-on harness, with a shiny pouch for her balls and no dildo—and the only reason for her to wear that is so people wouldn't know that her cock was real, the shiny pouch making her balls appear artificial.

Which meant he was about to get fucked after all—and as he was lead to the slave quarters, he knew exactly where. A stage had been set up there for public punishments, to be an example for other slaves. He was pulled onto stage and then secured onto a bench—a slanted one that brought his ass high into the air and pushed his cock back, ensuring that he would be totally exposed even as he got fucked.

But first, she came around to the front. She brought her cock right up face... And started stroking it. Inches from his face, just out of reach, she started stroking. That wonderful cock just barely out of reach. It was enough to drive him mad, and that was before Lady Nyla leaned down and whispered to him.

“Since you decided to disobey me and beg in there, I figured you'd like to let them hear you beg. If you beg, I'll fuck you right here, right now, as hard as you've ever been fucked... And if you don't, I'll cum on you, right here where they can't see, lock you in your chastity cage, and bring you back upstairs.

Her words made his eyes go wide with terror and arousal. As much as he wanted to disagree, as much as he wanted to be mad at Lady Nyla for this, he was tremendously turned on, and the idea of  not  getting fucked tonight at this point was terrible. And with the cock that his clenching hole craved just inches from his face... Pre-cum dripping on his face... He let out a slutty moan as his self-control and shyness finally crumbled.

“Please, m'lady...” he begged, but she ignored it. She smiled, and he knew that he wasn't going anywhere unless the room could hear him. He whined, as with his ass to the crowd, he had no idea who was present. Whether his friends were there, ready to watch him beg for the 'strap-on' to finally penetrate him. Whether the other nobles were there, ready to watch his humiliation at the hands of the exotic beauty that was Lady Nyla. But whatever laid behind him, it was what laid right in front of his eyes that finally drove his decision.

“...P-P-please, Lady Nyla,” he started, interrupted as she reached around him and grabbed his cock, gripping it hard and giving it an agonizingly slow, firm stroke.

“Beg properly, now, or you will not cum, Blossom.”

“PLEASE! PLEASE FUCK MY ASS LADY NYLA, I NEED TO FEEL YOUR COCK!”

Without a word, she swiftly got behind him, being sure to angle her first thrust to both slam his prostate and expose the initial penetration to the crowd behind him, many of who were gasping and snickering at the display. But what made it both terrifying and incredibly arousing was the idea that the crowd behind him had no idea that the cock in his ass was real. They saw a slave being punished by a mistress with a strap-on, but he was a servant, willingly tied up with his lover's cock hammering his ass infront of both his peers and his superiors, and he was absolutely loving every second. Even as his cheeks burned with shame and humilation, his cock dripped below him, threatening to let loose his second load of the night.

And then she did the unthinkable. Without even removing her cock from his ass, she turned him around to face the crowd, pulling his hair and forcing him to look directly into the crowd as her knot started to bang against the rim of his ass, threatening to go in at any moment. And he saw that his worst fears were more than true—his close 'friends' (who had, at Lady Nyla's request, fooled around with him several times), and many nobles stood to watch him. But it was the girl standing in the balcony, watching intently with her hands pressed against the front of her dress, that finally did him in. The wig didn't fool him, as she was a close friend of Lady Nyla's. And the terror and arousal finally got the best of him as he let lose a humiliated, slutty moan. His cock started squirting on it's own accord as he realized that it was the princess herself on that balcony, watching him, one of the few people who knew full well what Lady Nyla was. And as the knot that had been knocking at his backdoor finally slammed home, he knew that she, and only she, knew that there was real cum filling up his ass at that very moment. Knew that it was a real cock lodged into his asshole, making him cum like a whore for a roomful of slaves, servants, and nobles.

And with that his orgasm complete and the adrenaline wearing off, he heard words that made him shudder with a different kind of warmth. “I love you, Blossom. Rest now.”

He passed out on the spot.

He woke perhaps a couple hours later back in his room, shocked to find the princess-in-disguise there as well, watching over him patiently as he rest in Lady Nyla's arms.

“That was a great performance, Blossom... I love to see you and Miss Nyla having fun.” she said with a childish innocence that seemed almost inappropriate, given the extreme carnal act that she had just witnessed. “Sorry to intrude, I just had to make sure you were okay... That looked... rough,” she said, with a nervous giggle that portrayed that she indeed was still a little innocent to all things sexual. “But it looked like you liked it... I-I hope I get to see it again one day!” And without further ado, she gave him a blush-inducing kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room with the usual skip to her step.

But as he looked up at his Mistress and saw the look of pride and satisfaction on her face, he suddenly didn't care. He didn't care about the shame or the embarrassment. He didn't care about the cum dripping out of his abused hole. All he cared about is that he made Lady Nyla proud—made his  lover  proud—and had just had one of the most amazing rounds of kinky sex he'd ever had in his life. And that now he was cradled in her arms feeling warm, safe and satisfied.

“Thank you, Lady Nyla. I love you too.”