Thread: Fit For A Royal (PsionicCuttlefish & Frogger)

Somewhere in the royal castle, a large figure lay on a bed, hidden by curtains. What's more, he was chained to the bed and perfectly naked his legs spread apart with each ankle chained to each lower bedpost, and both arms stretched above him diagonally outward, also chained to each of the upper bedposts, making his body form a vague 'X'. He shifted a little, idly fidgeting with the shackles with his fingers, though he wasn't actually testing them or trying to break free. In fact, he wasn't concerned at all. He liked the chains, they were familiar to him. Comfortable, even. Like an old friend. They were something he had grown not just to accept, but to find satisfaction in during his years of training. Still, he signed through a canine muzzle as he waited. He was no human, but a grey wolf anthromorph, and he was an exceptional specimen at least seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and powerfully cut muscles, the body of one who had an intensive workout regimen. Covering his body was a layer of absolutely luxurious shining grey fur he had been washed, dried, and groomed twice prior to being placed here, and his pelt had achieved a state of silky smoothness and fluffiness, the kind of fur a woman could just bury her hands and face in to enjoy for hours. And yet, it was even groomed in such a way that his highly toned muscles were visible even through the fur, something that had taken a great amount of time, care, and finesse to trim in just the right way, but no expense had been spared. His fur was also slightly fragranced from the washing, though his sensual and exotic masculine musk could still be detected in close proximity, in a very pleasant way. And the wolf-man's face was like a wolf's, but with humanlike features imposed over it deep green eyes and a fully expressive mouth, giving him a soft, friendly appearance. Rook shifted on the bed again, not out of discomfort, but out of excitement. He couldn't wait, it had finally happened! All his years of training to be the perfect slave, the perfect pet , had led to this him finally being purchased permanently. He was brought up as a servant when young, and then ever since he had grown old enough to develop sexual capability, he had been trained and conditioned by professional mistresses to be an obedient pet who lived only to pleasure his owners. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been owned. The slavemasters had raised him from a pup not even yet able to speak, he had no idea where he came from, whether the slavemasters had obtained him from somewhere or if he had been bred and born into their possession, but neither did he care...his memory was nothing but just years of both mental and physical conditioning, going through several professional trainers and several temporary owners, molding him into one of their highest-class goods. Everything was to be of the highest quality, meant to be sold to nobility or wealthy merchants, they even told him he was a pet fit for a royal. And they were right! Just days ago, the Queen of the local realm herself had visited the guild that he was kept with, and out of the lineup of the three absolute best slaves the trainers had to sell, he was the one picked! The Queen told him he was a gift for one of her many daughters, her youngest daughter in fact he belonged to her now. And he couldn't wait to meet her! He couldn't wait to please her, to make her happy in every way he was capable of. What would she be like, he wondered? Petite and dark-haried, and would love to cuddle her large toy? Tall and developed, and would really put his skills to the test? It didn't matter, in the end. He'd make her happy all the same. Pondering all the things his new mistress might command him to do--or do to him--almost aroused him, but no, he didn't have permission yet. His manhood, impressive though it was when displayed, was sheathed between his legs and obscured by a bulge-tuft of fur. Even his heavy, apple-sized testicles were half-hidden from view. Still, he was told he wouldn't have to wait long, his new Mistress would be here soon, and--was that her? Someone had entered the room. He heard the door to the bedroom open, and saw a feminine silhouette on the other side of the curtains. This was it! The thickly bushy-furred tail between his spread legs wagged excitedly, waiting for the silhouette to approach and pull the curtains aside. His expression was radiant and happy, almost puppylike in its eagerness, despite the fact that he was naked and chained to the bed. He didn't make a single sound, not even an anticipating whine, oh no. Mistress must speak to Pet first...