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The new Khan decides to ride out and see his subjects and the young folf catches his eyes! \n\nThis is historical fantasy, not a treatise on anthropology! \n\nSequel here; https://inkbunny.net/s/3475741\n\nThis is a subscribestar [b]suggestion[/b] for [iconname]Sepfy[/iconname]\nThank you very much for the support ^^\n\nhttps://subscribestar.adult/bullubullu", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Young Sepf lives on the streets in Nishapur in the aftermath of the Mongol invasion. The new Khan decides to ride out and see his subjects and the young folf catches his eyes!

This is historical fantasy, not a treatise on anthropology!

Sequel here; https://inkbunny.net/s/3475741

This is a subscribestar suggestion for \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSepfy\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSepfy\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

Thank you very much for the support ^^

https://subscribestar.adult/bullubullu", "writing": "Bhuto Khan was riding in the middle of his entourage, back erect and effortlessly steering his steppe-horse with his knees. His green sclera glinted in the sun as his black pupils darted over the crowds that had gathered to see their new ruler. \nHis father, the great conqueror, had died a few months prior, leaving him the new ruler after his uncle had willingly accepted his ascension to the throne. Things were changing rapidly in the Mongol empire, old traditions were dying out and new ones were being adopted, many of the warriors, once drunk on war, now drunk on the fine wines and spirits their conquered peoples produced. \nBuko, his uncle, rode by his side. He shot a glance at the grizzled warrior, the golden jackal's face a mish-mash of scars, his nose bent, an ear missing almost down to the skull. Buko saw his glance and lifted his steel bottle in salute, Persian spirits poured down his throat, some of it dribbling down his chin. \nThe young khan almost shook his head in derision, alcohol had taken his father, the man a sot by the time of his death, and he feared his uncle would go the same route. Boisterous and proud, the man was an absolute menace when the drink took a hold of him. \nAlmost growling, Bhuto resumed his watch over the crowds, those furs he could see any way. Encircled by his troops from his own tribe, other Mongols as well as the native foxes of the land led and ended the procession, hundreds of bows and spears ready to respond to any challenge to their sovereign. \n\"ALL HAIL BHUTO KHAN, KING OF KINGS!\" The crier at the head shouted in Persian, the fox clad in ceremonial robes. \n\"Cursed babble,\" Buko muttered, loud enough for the khan to hear and his eyes narrowed. \n\"It would do you good to learn the language of our people,\" he chided the old warrior. \n\"They should learn [i]ours[/i]!\" The man insisted, taking another swig of his bottle. \n\nIt was an old argument, and Bhuto let it drop at once. After all, he was the one who ruled, it didn't matter what his uncle thought. Gesturing with his paw, he had the nearby soldiers make way so that the crowd could be seen properly, and so that they could see him. The master of ceremonies had insisted he be pulled around on a golden carriage to stand above the rest, but the young khan was far too accustomed to the saddle.\nBesides, the old rulers had been complacent and decadent, he had of mind to be a different kind of king.\nA proper khan.\nHe moved to the side of the procession, which had halted, and he took a long and hard look at his subjects. The foxes in the crowd bowed and scraped, some staring with anger, or with hatred, or with fear. Most were skinny, their clothes threadbare, years of war had famished the country. In between the reddish-coated people, Bhuto noticed something peculiar. He made a grand gesture to divide the crowd, and a light-blue coloured canine revealed himself. Small and runty, perhaps 8, perhaps 10 summers old, he stood apart from the rest by his build and his fur colour, marking him as something other, something [i]exotic[/i].\nBhuto leered, locking gazes with the cub who had golden eyes that were hurriedly cast down in submission. Underneath his trousers, the khan felt a heavy stirring and he had his horse move closer, until his shadow fell over the small boycub. \n\n\"Nephew? Not again!\" His uncle chided him as he rode over to see the commotion. Where the old warrior had picked up one vice, Bhuto had picked up another, his harem well-supplied with beautiful treasures he had his pleasure with. \n\"What's your name?\" The khan asked in perfect Persian and the cub blanched before answering, \"Sepf.\" \n\"Where are your parents?\" Arrangements had to be made after all, most would sell their cubs at the price he was willing to pay.\n\"I-\" The cub hesitated. \"My parents are dead.\" His accent was heavy, this boy wasn't a native to the city. \n\"Well that does it! Guards, take that cub with you, and [i]do not harm him![/i]\"\nThe runty cub was quick to turn tail, frightened by the guards that attempted to catch him, but several onlookers blocked his way and showed him to the ground, his light frame barely even kicking up dust,\nBhuto then gestured for a couple of riders whose horses carried heavy saddle bags. He reached into one of them and pulled out a pawful of silver coins, throwing it to the crowd. A roar of jubilation rang out and fistfights erupted almost at once, even as he threw out pawful after pawful of silver, the crowd soon chanting his name and his Persian title. \n\"BHUTO! BHUTO! KING OF KINGS!\" \n\nLike a piece of game, the blue-furred cub had been slung over a horse, tied securely, and he remained there for the rest of the procession, the khan riding through the entirety of the city, bribing his people for their love.\n\n----------------------------\n\nSepf's nose was thick with the smell of horse and his eyes were ringing from the shouting of the crowds. He could move his head and tried to watch the nearby golden jackals, the Mongols, the conquerors of this place. A mixed breed, he had always been [i]other[/i], but the jackals were something else entirely. Crass, crude, dangerous. They steered their horses with nimble perfection and their bodies were relaxed in the same way a cat would be, ready to pounce at any moment. He didn't know why the khan had singled him out, and the nearby soldiers only spoke to one another in their own, crude language. \nFrightened and confused, the day went on, the sun baked him dry, and only the occasional sip from a waterskin kept him from passing out. \nFinally they arrived at the palace, and most of the soldiers dispersed, only a handful of jackals entered the main building, Sepf's paws bound and the cub dragged after them. The young ruler constantly leered at him, his black eyes glinting with something that made the folf's stomach churn with unease. They arrived at a gate that was adorned with motifs of beautiful flowers painted in vibrant colours, and the others left except the grizzled old soldier who looked like he might draw his saber and cut off his head at any time based on his hateful stares. \nThe khan and the older man conversed in their guttural language and the younger jackal reached for Sepf's bound paws, undoing the knots, letting the rope fall to the ground before grabbing his paw. \n\n\"I'll see you tomorrow, uncle.\" Bhuto said, and then entered his harem. There were no guards here, for no one would dare risk his wrath, and the scent of perfumes and hookah smoke instantly filled his nostrils. \n[i]This[/i] was his vice. Not the drink, not the opium, not the hashish. No. The pleasures of the flesh. He looked down at the young canine, noting the griminess of his rags, the off-putting smell of a life on the streets. \nA fat, old man met him then, a fox like so many of his subjects, but comically rotund, with a greying face that still somehow managed to look youthful. \n\"Asal, clean up this boy and bring him to my chambers once he has been prepared.\" He gave the eunuck a certain look and the castrate bowed deeply before steering the cub away.\nBhuto almost ventured further into his harem to satiate his thirst, but he refrained, wanting his potency to be at the utmost when he claimed his new bedslave. He could hear whimpers and moans coming from behind closed doors or drawn curtains, the members of his harem spending their time practicing their skills on one another as per his command, and he adjusted his hardness, which now fully snaked down his trouser-leg, throbbing mightily. \n\n-------------------------------\n\nThe strange old man had a firm grip on his bicep, but Sepf was too enraptured by the sights to even consider an escape attempt. Expensive furs, tapestries, busts and rugs adorned every surface of this place and the smell of it had his brain almost grow light. Fragrances he had never experienced or even imagined tickled his nostrils and the sounds of giggles and pleasured moans made his ears perch from side to side as it all overwhelmed him. \n\"You have been given a great honour.\" The man said as they entered a room that was so humid that sweat instantly oozed out his pores, causing his nose to scrunch up as his own stink was dislodged. \"Yes, young man, you really [i]do[/i] reek. Take off your clothes and enter the bath.\" \nThe bath in question was a pool some 3 by 7 yards that steamed from the heat of the water. Sepf stood still, somehow sensing a trap, but the old man just 'tut-tutted' and took his own robes off, gingerly folding the pristine white linen and stowing it away before he turned to pull at the cub's clothes. \nSepf's eyes widened, the man didn't have any balls!\n\"What happened to your...\" He blurted out before stopping himself, realizing it would probably be a rude question.\n\"I'm an eunuch,\" the man explained, \"my stones were cut off when I was about your age. It's the only reason why I, as an adult man, am allowed to be inside the harem.\" \n\"Harem?\" Sepf's voice was muffled as his grimy shirt was being pulled over his head.\n\"Where the king of kings keeps his concubines and catamites.\"\nSepf's brow furrowed, he had heard about concubines, pleasure-women, but the other word eluded him, until..\nHe gasped, then turned to run, a meaty paw around his bicep once again.\n\"I don't want to!\" He exclaimed, struggling to get loose. \n\"You have to,\" the man said calmly, although his grip got tighter, Sepf meeping in pain, \"you have been chosen. It is a great honour. You will serve your king with pride and learn how to pleasure him and gain pleasure from it as well!\" \n\"Please... No...\" \nThe man simply dragged him into the pool and began to lather him in soap, the grime floating to the surface as his fur was cleaned. \n\nThe cub had calmed down during the bath and allowed himself to be felt up by the eunuch, who pried his mouth open, inspecting his teeth, then dug cotton-wrapped sticks into his ears, cleaning them, before having him bend over. Sepf blushed with humiliation as his taut ass-cheeks were pried apart and the man behind him hummed in satisfaction before he rummaged with a bottle, a flowery scent percolating into his nose. \nHe gasped when he felt a finger touch at his tailhole, then whined as it was inserted. Aided by some kind of lubricant, it didn't hurt, but it violated him in a profound manner and he began to tremble from it all. \nThe eunuch inserted his finger again and again, besides smearing his entire backside with the slick substance, then inserting his finger again. It didn't hurt now, barely felt stretchy, and the young cub began to feel a strange stirring in his stomach as it began to feel almost pleasureable.\n\"That's right, enjoy yourself Sepf,\" the eunuch said, his finger squelching as he prepared the young canine, his own member growing half-hard despite his missing nutsack. He curled his finger and brushed it against the hidden pleasure spot and the blue-furred cub tensed up and then emitted a girly moan, the fox rubbing him there for a minute, noting how his boyhood began to creep out of its sheath. \"Fascinating..\" The rotund fox muttered as he saw the black skin of the cub's erection, a stark contrast to his pinkish member. \n\"I think you are ready now.\" \n\n\nAny arousal he might have had went fully down when he was dressed in a frilly, pink silk gown that was so light it left nothing to the imagination.\n\"But I'm a boy!\" Sepf protested.\n\"You are the king's bitch!\" The eunuch retorted with a smirk, his soft paws ruffling the cub's black headfur and arranging him to be as presentable as possible. \nEach step back through the harem had Sepf's buttcheeks slide strangely against one another due to the slick oil, and he was acutely aware of what would come next. The moans and groans he heard as he walked past closed curtains and shut doors had him blush now and when they exited the harem door he almost bolted again. This time the eunuch shook him hard by his bicep. \"Don't make this difficult for yourself!\" He chided the cub, dragging him off to where the king's personal chambers were located. \n\"You!\" A slurred voice called out, and the grizzled warrior from the procession appeared. \n\"Buko.\" The eunuch said curtly, trying to walk around him. A heavy paw stopped him in his tracks. \n\"You pampered woman,\" the man slurred in Mongol, \"acting like you are better than me. Get a grip!\" \n\"The king of kings has specifically requested that this boy be brought to his chambers!\" The eunuch said in a shrill voice, also in Mongol, his tone a mixture of outrage and fear. Sepf screamed as the grizzled warrior punched the fat fox, knocking him back several feet, the eunuch landing on his back with a meaty thud. He turned to run, but the golden jackal grabbed him by the neck and squeezed his face against the wall of the corridor.\n\"I've decided to finally taste what this so-called 'civilized' practice is all about!\" The grizzled jackal pulled up the dress and dug his paw brusquely into the cleft of Sepf's buttocks, jamming a thumb inside.\nMeanwhile the eunuch scurried away, leaving Sepf alone with drunkard. He screamed in fright and pain and a heavy paw crushed his wind-pipe. Shuffling could be heard, the sound amplified by the throbbing in the cub's head and he suddenly felt something [i]warm[/i] and sharp poke at his entrance. \nHe would have screamed if he could, as the jackal's member forced its way into his slick entrance, and tears of agony poured from his eyes as the older male buckled his hips savagely, ramming his member even deeper inside, splitting him open as if a knife had been stuck inside his rectum. The man changed grip, now enveloping his snout with his strong paw, and loud whimpers and whines escaped his muzzle as the jackal's tapered cock buried ever deeper. \n\nSuddenly, the movement stopped, and a loud gurgle could be heard from behind him. He felt some kind of warm liquid splatter down on his back. The paw holding his muzzle released its grip, limp and weak, and he felt the rapist tool exit his violated sphincter. \nSobbing, Sepf turned to see what had happened, and the grizzled old warrior was on his knees, clutching his throat, blood everywhere. Behind him stood the khan, clad in a nightshift, rage on his features, a bloody knife in his paw. \n\nSepf gasped, then felt white static take over his mind. With a pitiful sigh he collapsed, passing out from it all.\n\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Bhuto Khan was riding in the middle of his entourage, back erect and effortlessly steering his steppe-horse with his knees. His green sclera glinted in the sun as his black pupils darted over the crowds that had gathered to see their new ruler.
His father, the great conqueror, had died a few months prior, leaving him the new ruler after his uncle had willingly accepted his ascension to the throne. Things were changing rapidly in the Mongol empire, old traditions were dying out and new ones were being adopted, many of the warriors, once drunk on war, now drunk on the fine wines and spirits their conquered peoples produced.
Buko, his uncle, rode by his side. He shot a glance at the grizzled warrior, the golden jackal's face a mish-mash of scars, his nose bent, an ear missing almost down to the skull. Buko saw his glance and lifted his steel bottle in salute, Persian spirits poured down his throat, some of it dribbling down his chin.
The young khan almost shook his head in derision, alcohol had taken his father, the man a sot by the time of his death, and he feared his uncle would go the same route. Boisterous and proud, the man was an absolute menace when the drink took a  hold of him.
Almost growling, Bhuto resumed his watch over the crowds, those furs he could see any way. Encircled by his troops from his own tribe, other Mongols as well as the native foxes of the land led and ended the procession, hundreds of bows and spears ready to respond to any challenge to their sovereign.
"ALL HAIL BHUTO KHAN, KING OF KINGS!" The crier at the head shouted in Persian, the fox clad in ceremonial robes.
"Cursed babble," Buko muttered, loud enough for the khan to hear and his eyes narrowed.
"It would do you good to learn the language of our people," he chided the old warrior.
"They should learn ours!" The man insisted, taking another swig of his bottle.

It was an old argument, and Bhuto let it drop at once. After all, he was the one who ruled, it didn't matter what his uncle thought. Gesturing with his paw, he had the nearby soldiers make way so that the crowd could be seen properly, and so that they could see him. The master of ceremonies had insisted he be pulled around on a golden carriage to stand above the rest, but the young khan was far too accustomed to the saddle.
Besides, the old rulers had been complacent and decadent, he had of mind to be a different kind of king.
A proper khan.
He moved to the side of the procession, which had halted, and he took a long and hard look at his subjects. The foxes in the crowd bowed and scraped, some staring with anger, or with hatred, or with fear. Most were skinny, their clothes threadbare, years of war had famished the country. In between the reddish-coated people, Bhuto noticed something peculiar. He made a grand gesture to divide the crowd, and a light-blue coloured canine revealed himself. Small and runty, perhaps 8, perhaps 10 summers old, he stood apart from the rest by his build and his fur colour, marking him as something other, something exotic.
Bhuto leered, locking gazes with the cub who had golden eyes that were hurriedly cast down in submission. Underneath his trousers, the khan felt a heavy stirring and he had his horse move closer, until his shadow fell over the small boycub.

"Nephew? Not again!" His uncle chided him as he rode over to see the commotion. Where the old warrior had picked up one vice, Bhuto had picked up another, his harem well-supplied with beautiful treasures he had his pleasure with.
"What's your name?" The khan asked in perfect Persian and the cub blanched before answering, "Sepf."
"Where are your parents?" Arrangements had to be made after all, most would sell their cubs at the price he was willing to pay.
"I-" The cub hesitated. "My parents are dead." His accent was heavy, this boy wasn't a native to the city.
"Well that does it! Guards, take that cub with you, and do not harm him!"
The runty cub was quick to turn tail, frightened by the guards that attempted to catch him, but several onlookers blocked his way and showed him to the ground, his light frame barely even kicking up dust,
Bhuto then gestured for a couple of riders whose horses carried heavy saddle bags. He reached into one of them and pulled out a pawful of silver coins, throwing it to the crowd. A roar of jubilation rang out and fistfights erupted almost at once, even as he threw out pawful after pawful of silver, the crowd soon chanting his name and his Persian title.
"BHUTO! BHUTO! KING OF KINGS!"      

Like a piece of game, the blue-furred cub had been slung over a horse, tied securely, and he remained there for the rest of the procession, the khan riding through the entirety of the city, bribing his people for their love.

----------------------------

Sepf's nose was thick with the smell of horse and his eyes were ringing from the shouting of the crowds. He could move his head and tried to watch the nearby golden jackals, the Mongols, the conquerors of this place. A mixed breed, he had always been other, but the jackals were something else entirely. Crass, crude, dangerous. They steered their horses with nimble perfection and their bodies were relaxed in the same way a cat would be, ready to pounce at any moment. He didn't know why the khan had singled him out, and the nearby soldiers only spoke to one another in their own, crude language.
Frightened and confused, the day went on, the sun baked him dry, and only the occasional sip from a waterskin kept him from passing out.
Finally they arrived at the palace, and most of the soldiers dispersed, only a handful of jackals entered the main building, Sepf's paws bound and the cub dragged after them. The young ruler constantly leered at him, his black eyes glinting with something that made the folf's stomach churn with unease. They arrived at a gate that was adorned with motifs of beautiful flowers painted in vibrant colours, and the others left except the grizzled old soldier who looked like he might draw his saber and cut off his head at any time based on his hateful stares.
The khan and the older man conversed in their guttural language and the younger jackal reached for Sepf's bound paws, undoing the knots, letting the rope fall to the ground before grabbing his paw.

"I'll see you tomorrow, uncle." Bhuto said, and then entered his harem. There were no guards here, for no one would dare risk his wrath, and the scent of perfumes and hookah smoke instantly filled his nostrils.
This was his vice. Not the drink, not the opium, not the hashish. No. The pleasures of the flesh. He looked down at the young canine, noting the griminess of his rags, the off-putting smell of a life on the streets.
A fat, old man met him then, a fox like so many of his subjects, but comically rotund, with a greying face that still somehow managed to look youthful.
"Asal, clean up this boy and bring him to my chambers once he has been prepared." He gave the eunuck a certain look and the castrate bowed deeply before steering the cub away.
Bhuto almost ventured further into his harem to satiate his thirst, but he refrained, wanting his potency to be at the utmost when he claimed his new bedslave. He could hear whimpers and moans coming from behind closed doors or drawn curtains, the members of his harem spending their time practicing their skills on one another as per his command, and he adjusted his hardness, which now fully snaked down his trouser-leg, throbbing mightily.

-------------------------------

The strange old man had a firm grip on his bicep, but Sepf was too enraptured by the sights to even consider an escape attempt. Expensive furs, tapestries, busts and rugs adorned every surface of this place and the smell of it had his brain almost grow light. Fragrances he had never experienced or even imagined tickled his nostrils and the sounds of giggles and pleasured moans made his ears perch from side to side as it all overwhelmed him.
"You have been given a great honour." The man said as they entered a room that was so humid that sweat instantly oozed out his pores, causing his nose to scrunch up as his own stink was dislodged. "Yes, young man, you really do reek. Take off your clothes and enter the bath."
The bath in question was a pool some 3 by 7 yards that steamed from the heat of the water. Sepf stood still, somehow sensing a trap, but the old man just 'tut-tutted' and took his own robes off, gingerly folding the pristine white linen and stowing it away before he turned to pull at the cub's clothes.
Sepf's eyes widened, the man didn't have any balls!
"What happened to your..." He blurted out before stopping himself, realizing it would probably be a rude question.
"I'm an eunuch," the man explained, "my stones were cut off when I was about your age. It's the only reason why I, as an adult man, am allowed to be inside the harem."
"Harem?" Sepf's voice was muffled as his grimy shirt was being pulled over his head.
"Where the king of kings keeps his concubines and catamites."
Sepf's brow furrowed, he had heard about concubines, pleasure-women, but the other word eluded him, until..
He gasped, then turned to run, a meaty paw around his bicep once again.
"I don't want to!" He exclaimed, struggling to get loose.
"You have to," the man said calmly, although his grip got tighter, Sepf meeping in pain, "you have been chosen. It is a great honour. You will serve your king with pride and learn how to pleasure him and gain pleasure from it as well!"
"Please... No..."
The man simply dragged him into the pool and began to lather him in soap, the grime floating to the surface as his fur was cleaned.

The cub had calmed down during the bath and allowed himself to be felt up by the eunuch, who pried his mouth open, inspecting his teeth, then dug cotton-wrapped sticks into his ears, cleaning them, before having him bend over. Sepf blushed with humiliation as his taut ass-cheeks were pried apart and the man behind him hummed in satisfaction before he rummaged with a bottle, a flowery scent percolating into his nose.
He gasped when he felt a finger touch at his tailhole, then whined as it was inserted. Aided by some kind of lubricant, it didn't hurt, but it violated him in a profound manner and he began to tremble from it all.
The eunuch inserted his finger again and again, besides smearing his entire backside with the slick substance, then inserting his finger again. It didn't hurt now, barely felt stretchy, and the young cub began to feel a strange stirring in his stomach as it began to feel almost pleasureable.
"That's right, enjoy yourself Sepf," the eunuch said, his finger squelching as he prepared the young canine, his own member growing half-hard despite his missing nutsack. He curled his finger and brushed it against the hidden pleasure spot and the blue-furred cub tensed up and then emitted a girly moan, the fox rubbing him there for a minute, noting how his boyhood began to creep out of its sheath. "Fascinating.." The rotund fox muttered as he saw the black skin of the cub's erection, a stark contrast to his pinkish member.
"I think you are ready now."


Any arousal he might have had went fully down when he was dressed in a frilly, pink silk gown that was so light it left nothing to the imagination.
"But I'm a boy!" Sepf protested.
"You are the king's bitch!" The eunuch retorted with a smirk, his soft paws ruffling the cub's black headfur and arranging him to be as presentable as possible.
Each step back through the harem had Sepf's buttcheeks slide strangely against one another due to the slick oil, and he was acutely aware of what would come next. The moans and groans he heard as he walked past closed curtains and shut doors had him blush now and when they exited the harem door he almost bolted again. This time the eunuch shook him hard by his bicep. "Don't make this difficult for yourself!" He chided the cub, dragging him off to where the king's personal chambers were located.
"You!" A slurred voice called out, and the grizzled warrior from the procession appeared.
"Buko." The eunuch said curtly, trying to walk around him. A heavy paw stopped him in his tracks.
"You pampered woman," the man slurred in Mongol, "acting like you are better than me. Get a grip!"
"The king of kings has specifically requested that this boy be brought to his chambers!" The eunuch said in a shrill voice, also in Mongol, his tone a mixture of outrage and fear. Sepf screamed as the grizzled warrior punched the fat fox, knocking him back several feet, the eunuch landing on his back with a meaty thud. He turned to run, but the golden jackal grabbed him by the neck and squeezed his face against the wall of the corridor.
"I've decided to finally taste what this so-called 'civilized' practice is all about!" The grizzled jackal pulled up the dress and dug his paw brusquely into the cleft of Sepf's buttocks, jamming a thumb inside.
Meanwhile the eunuch scurried away, leaving Sepf alone with drunkard. He screamed in fright and pain and a heavy paw crushed his wind-pipe. Shuffling could be heard, the sound amplified by the throbbing in the cub's head and he suddenly felt something warm and sharp poke at his entrance.
He would have screamed if he could, as the jackal's member forced its way into his slick entrance, and tears of agony poured from his eyes as the older male buckled his hips savagely, ramming his member even deeper inside, splitting him open as if a knife had been stuck inside his rectum. The man changed grip, now enveloping his snout with his strong paw, and loud whimpers and whines escaped his muzzle as the jackal's tapered cock buried ever deeper.

Suddenly, the movement stopped, and a loud gurgle could be heard from behind him. He felt some kind of warm liquid splatter down on his back. The paw holding his muzzle released its grip, limp and weak, and he felt the rapist tool exit his violated sphincter.
Sobbing, Sepf turned to see what had happened, and the grizzled old warrior was on his knees, clutching his throat, blood everywhere. Behind him stood the khan, clad in a nightshift, rage on his features, a bloody knife in his paw.

Sepf gasped, then felt white static take over his mind. With a pitiful sigh he collapsed, passing out from it all.


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