This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All characters in all of my stories are over eighteen and legal adults in all sexual situations.
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Slaves and Studs
Part One
The boar rubbed the back of his paw across his snout, eyes narrowed against the bright gleam of sunshine. But he wasn't destined to be out in the glare of it for too long, his rough coat of hair, which covered his body like fur, neatly trimmed and his tusks polished to a gleaming shine, denoting his status in the world. Boglan was not a boar to be taken lightly, by any means, although there were some out there that thought that they could misuse his money and take advantage of his position.
They were mistaken. Sadly, sorely, mistaken.
The smooth, sliding doors of the auction house beckoned him and he stepped inside to the air-conditioned confines with a soft grunt, heavy steps following him. Of course, Boglan was rarely alone and the master boar towed behind him a studly bull slave that maybe should have been dominant for the set of his chest and the ripple of muscle in his body. His muscled bulk was rendered sharply cut with definition and suited his frame well but the lines of fit and well-kept muscle in his body boasted of time spent working out. Boglan liked his slaves to look good, after all, and Marcus was, at that point, the best of the best, the crème de la crème of the slaves in his household.
The bull looked down as he walked, ears twitching, his blue coat of hair off-set in the sunshine. He didn't get out much anymore, just when Boglan wanted him to, and he went bare in his cloven hooves, the rest of his body just as naked while his master was well adorned. A chunky, leather collar had been locked around his neck for the outing but it was not a fetish accessory but rather another brag of wealth on the part of his master, the stitching fine and the leather, surely, from some kind of rare beast that was difficult to acquire at the best of times. The lock on it, however, was gold, reinforced where needed, and the weight of the clunky block against his throat could not have denoted his status under Boglan's hoof more appropriately.
Yet Marcus knew that it was just his lot in life. At some point, he had become a slave and that was that. He'd been with Boglan for maybe a year or two, time not holding too much meaning for him anymore. There was nothing more a slave could do about their place in the world and he knew that, before, he had done something, worked hard, done something...but what? There were few memories of life before and he grunted softly, quickening his steps to keep up with his master as the leash tugged taut.
"Quick."
His master was not to be disobeyed. Marcus snorted softly, trying to appease him as his hooves moved more quickly, the harness around his torso tightening and pulling as he half-trotted along, even though his legs were actually longer than the boar's own. There was no sense in spending time thinking of his life before when his current one was as it was. A slave, however, did not like or dislike their existence, merely existing as their master's and overseers deemed fit for them.
He had learned that a long time ago.
Stepping into the cool of the auction house, Boglan sighed minutely, adjusting his collar. The heat of the day out there, a burning, unbearable swelter, was not for him, not at all, but it was worth pushing through for the spoils that were to be found in the auction house.
The reception area was large with a long, sweeping staircase above the reception desk to take viewers and visitors to the first floor but Boglan had barely approached the deer receptionist when his old nemesis appeared. The boar stiffened noticeably, though it was not through any sense of fear but a deep dislike of the fur barrelling his way towards him with an eagerly snorting, twitching nose: The Engineer.
He can smell my money a mile away.
The hyena with his dark hair slicked back as if kept in place by too many hair products, smiled and clapped Boglan on the shoulder, although he was hardly larger than the bull. He was slimmer in stature with more muscle around his strong thighs, lean and mean and someone who always knew just where to sniff out a deal.
"Boglan!" The Engineer boomed, clapping him for a second time on his shoulder, even though the look of distaste on the boar's face intensified. "And I thought that you had tired of the wares I have to sell!"
"Engineer." Boglan nodded stiffly, greeting him so curtly that one could have mistaken the two of them for enemies. "It's a pleasure. As always."
It was very much not a pleasure but merely a necessary evil for him to come up against The Engineer.