The Beauty in his Breaking

"Take him to the baths," she instructed for a second time. "I'll not have such a filthy specimen in my home."

Wordlessly, Makaidos scrambled away from the gazelle and, head bowed, followed Selly to the door. The doe had a bounce in her step that he instantly hated, as much as he loathed how his eyes dropped to her round rump, perfectly fleshy. Tucked within his belly slit, his cock twitched. Even after that abuse, he was horny? It had been too long. It had been too long for many things.

"Oh and...slave?"

Makaidos faltered mid-step. Looking back over his shoulder, he caught the gazelle smiling pleasantly, returning to her earlier position on the sofa. Perhaps it was a favourite. She raised her paw in mock farewell, lips parting in breath.

"I'll take great pleasure in breaking you, slave."

*

Makaidos loathed training.

Better to be in the glass pen. Better to be at the paws of one that solely gave him physical pain. Better to be set chores. Better to be set tasks. Better to be forgotten. Then one could escape.

He made sure to bathe daily after the first incident. Selly kept him company more often than not, which was a cross between a distraction and a blessing. Conversation had been much missed and even her chatter, questions that went unanswered, was better than nothing. He even became accustomed to her nudity, barely noticing it after a day of learning the ropes, the basics that would be expected of him. Apparently, all slaves had to know the layout of the mansion and extensive study was required. He did not have a head for directions. But that was not training.

It was seeing Thema that he truly despised. The remainder of his existence was not so bad, if he was truthful. And he had no inclination to lie. For comfort, the simple room lined with beds for male slaves did well enough, even if one lacked privacy - it was more than he had ever had in the slave pens, that was for sure. The other slaves thought twice before challenging him at his size and bulk, a blessing of genetics. One night, a braver Doberman had moseyed up to the foot of his bed, insinuating that the dragon may be up for some 'fun'. It had not taken a genius to figure that one out, or which of them would be on the bottom of the liaison. The Doberman had not tried to take advantage again and bore the bruises for days later. Makaidos smirked at the memory. Maybe he should have mounted the dog instead of sending him away with his tail between his legs.

The sleeping quarters were not training. His rump smarted, blistering. He wished that no one else could see his shame, but the searing brand was there for all to see: the letters 'TH' within a perfect circle. He could only assume they were his mistress' initials.

He shuddered. That memory should not be re-visited. Cooked meat had been difficult to eat for days afterwards, the scents of dead flesh and his, respectively, burning too close for comfort.

Pacing a small, plain room near the entrance to the mansion, Makaidos ruffled his wings. Part of his new role was to welcome guests into the mansion and, since Thema was evidently expecting visitors, he had been tasked with manning the door. Maybe the usual slave was sick but, whatever the reason, the job had fallen to him. The same four walls were imperceptibly boring and he paced and paced and paced, three steps and back again, until the soles of his hind paws ached something fierce. He did not care. It was better than standing still. And it was better than being around her.

How could anyone put up with the same four walls for hours on end? Had it been hours? The dragon shook his head, disorientated. A window stretched across one wall, large enough for him to see the exterior and anyone approaching, but he did not need to look out of it. There was nothing to see out there anyway. The outside world was losing his interest and he feared it was losing interest in him too.

He snapped his head up hard enough to make his neck jerk uncomfortably. Outside - a vehicle purred, some distance up the drive. He would have called it a car or something akin to a limousine, yet no doubt the upper classes had far better nouns for purposes of description. He was proud that he could still remember that 'car' and 'limousine' were classed as nouns.

Little things.

A long, sleek, black vehicle, driven by a smartly dressed equine, pulled up to the front of the mansion, crunching on the gravel. Makaidos wondered if it was solely placed to announce visitors - the gravel, that is. The brown equine leapt from the driver's side of the limousine and raced to the back where the passengers sat. With the windows so tinted, Makaidos could not see the occupants until the horse flung open the passenger door, allowing his guests, unicorn, bear, alligator and okapi respectively, to emerge from the vehicle. Each movement with a great sense of deliberation, performing every step precisely, though the dragon could not claim there was any particular grace to them. They were simply...different. That was the best he could come up with. The bay horse doffed his cap, showing off a messy, black mane, moving his lips moved in hasty apology; Makaidos assumed the horse had been slow in attending to his passengers. Slave owners were so very demanding.

The four furs approached the door, making conversation amongst themselves. The unicorn's sinuous tail curled and uncurled, weaving back and forth with a serpentine twist. Fascinated, Makaidos stood and watched for several long moments, admiring their attire. He had never been able to afford such luxurious clothing, even before. Didn't he wish, hey?

Their approach continued, ignorant of the dragon's introspection. Realising belatedly that he was the one that was supposed to open the door, Makaidos scrambled from his small room into the expansive hall. The door wasn't locked - the guards protected the grounds and building day and night - so he opened it with a flourish, stepping back as the white unicorn pushed past, thrusting open the door without care for who was on the other side.

"I am weary," the white unicorn announced as he strode into the entrance hall, thrusting his heavy coat upon the stumbling Makaidos. "Are there no refreshments? Where is our dear Thema? Surely she would be here to meet us?"

"Keenan, please." The bear winced, brushing the brown fur flat on his arm. "Did you expect her to be at the door?"

"I, well, hm," the unicorn, Keenan, shook himself, tail snapping out and golden mane tumbling about his neck and shoulders. "I would have expected...more."

"Thema has sent us a fine welcome indeed," the okapi said levelly, looking Makaidos up and down with an unnervingly predatory glimmer to his gaze.

Makaidos shivered, turning aside to hang their coats. They would be taken to a cloakroom later: for now, he was to attend to Thema's guests.

He did not like how the okapi looked at him. He would have thought one of the clear carnivores were more suited to the glances and licking of lips that the okapi directed. Taking the last coat from the okapi, the ungulate allowed his fingers to graze the back of Makaidos' paw as he pulled away. The dragon flinched as if he had been stung.

Makaidos mumbled an apology - it must have been a common trait among slaves to apologise constantly - and stepped back to hang up the okapi's jacket alongside the others, all in a neat row upon the wall hooks. What he didn't expect was to feel a paw closing around his wrist, dragging him back forcibly. He was spun to face the okapi, whose black tongue traced a path across his upper lip, sharp blue eyes crystalline with intelligence. Holding the dragon's wrist in an iron-grip, he hauled him closer, a paw darting between Makaidos' thighs. The dragon stiffened, fighting against instinct to fight or flee. He could choose neither. The okapi almost curiously toyed with the dragon's slit, rubbing around the edges as it plumped, pink cock slipping into the open. Makaidos closed his eyes and tugged at the okapi's grip weakly. If only he could hit the damn hoofer. He'd show him what for if he didn't have metal around his neck.

But everyone knew what happened to slaves that fought back.

"Oh, a keen one," the okapi murmured, turning the dragon so that his backside was presented and yanking his tail up. "I see Thema's mark is already upon you."

Makaidos shuddered as the brand was grazed by the hoof-like fingertips, tail tucking down immediately.

"Um...uh..." Anger conflicted with forced arousal and humiliation: why did his cock have to be so hard? Why was he so horny? Oh, of course. That. Who could blame a male that had not gotten off in...how long had it been? The dragon trembled. "Please let go. I've got to put your coat away."

"Manners are lacking," the unicorn commented, flicking his tail at his companion. "Have him do his job, Jared. Let us see Thema."

Chuckling to himself, the okapi released Makaidos, giving his arse a quick smack as he did so. Straightening up with as much dignity as he could muster, he cleared his throat. He hung up the okapi's coat and faced them with a smile that did not reach his eyes, cock bobbing in the air before his lower abdomen.

"Thema is at the pool," he said, composure returning. "If you would please follow me, gentlemen, there will be refreshments shortly."

He would have felt more like an employee than a slave in that moment, leading the guests through the mansion with a swift, purposeful stride, if his cock was not still protruding from his belly slit. The damn thing just would not go away! He strode through the halls with as much dignity as he could muster, feeling the others at his back, their eyes upon him. Of course, they chatted amongst themselves, treating him as if he was not really there and they were just leading themselves through the mansion. Without him, however, they would have been utterly lost.

Makaidos passed the kitchen - one of several, at least - as his hard-on finally began to soften, dropping against his crotch as the blood flowed back to other organs that probably needed it more. The pool was uncovered and expansive, somewhere between a pond and a lake. How big did a pond have to be until it became a lake? He would not know. Makaidos shook his head, drawing a befuddled glance from the okapi that he did not register, caught in his own confusion. The slavers who had originally captured him had kept him locked away from the world, so he had little chance to compare the scale. To him, the pool was tantalising, shimmering in the sunlight with a tiled blue bottom. It curved around the decking, bar and sun lounges where Thema relaxed, laying with one ankle crossed neatly over the other. The gazelle peered over a pair of dark sunglasses with orange frames that, oddly, set off the tone of her coat, looking her slave critically up and down. Makaidos halted.

"Mistress." The word stuck in his throat and Makaidos ducked his muzzle in what he hoped constituted as a good enough bow. "Your guests have arrived."

Short and sweet but it suited rules and did the trick, he thought. Etiquette and doing as he was told was not the dragon's strongest point and following procedure left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Keenan, Imaran, it is a pleasure to see you again," Thema greeted them warmly, rising to lean in to kiss their cheeks lightly, on familiar terms. "I trust the wedding went well?"

The alligator, who had thus far drawn no attention to himself, nodded and bared his teeth in a smile that managed to appear both friendly and threatening in equal measures. Makaidos identified him as the one addressed as 'Imaran', leaving the unicorn to be 'Keenan', who was louder than his supposed other half. Makaidos stifled a snort. Males consorting with males? Who would have such a notion?

"And Jared."

The gazelle embraced the okapi that had caused him so much discomfort and the dragon flicked his tail, paws clasped behind his back.

"It's wonderful to see you again," Thema added sincerely, shaking the final fur's paw - the brown bear. "Anoki, I have much to discuss with you, but that can wait, as delightful as business matters of this ilk can be. Are you weary? Please - sit and drink with me. We shall have more tasteful refreshment shortly, but there is a variety available the bar, juices and mixes. Alcoholic too. What will you have?"

Several slaves - wolves, which seemed a strange choice for the pool - darted to her side, taking orders and complicated instructions with a skill that Makaidos envied; he had never been very good at such rapid retention. It took a few instances for anything to 'stick' with him. Awkwardly, Makaidos shifted his weight. Could he leave yet? It would be nice to disappear into the depths of the mansion again. The open air left him feeling vulnerable with the whole world above him, queasy even. It was also far too close to Thema.

"Leave now," Thema rolled her eyes upon noticing the dragon's persistent presence. "I will call for you later."

"Later? For what?" Makaidos' eyes narrowed and his tail flicked, catlike.

"You forget yourself, slave," Thema pointed to the ground and, grudgingly, the dragon dropped to his knees. "Apologise. You do not question me."

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he said softly, unable to meet her eyes not for shame but for fear she would take note of the loathing within them.

"What do you not do?"

Thema pressed, taking hold of one horn and yanking his head back and to the side so he was forced to bare his throat. The dragon shuddered.

"Question you, Mistress."

Satisfied, Thema released his horn, turning back to her guests.

"Very good. Now leave."

*

In the slave dormitory, Makaidos collapsed on his bed, exhaling loudly. Every muscle in his body ached as if he had been flying for days on end, though he had faced no great physical exertion since his arrival in the mansion - nothing challenging. Mentally drained, the dragon spread his wings out to their full extension, brushing the beds on either side of him. The beds were too close together, ten to a room and made up neatly during the day. They did not require thick sheets in such a warm climate, which was a blessing as the ones they were supplied with were distressingly thin and insubstantial.

What an ordeal...

"Long day?"

A small deer, a friend of sorts, trotted into the room, pausing mid-step with one cloven hoof held comically in the air. If he had been less tired, Makaidos would have laughed. But he did not remember the last time he had so much as chuckled. It was beyond memory.

"Very much so," he murmured at last, realising that Yanco, the young stag, required an answer, though he was no longer standing on two legs.

"Rest up then," Yanco advised, sinking on to the opposite bed and crossing his legs as if he intended to watch Makaidos sleep. "Though I'm sure I could occupy you if you were in need of another kind of release, of stress perhaps..."

Makaidos chuckled hollowly, the sound rasping without the humour he craved.

"Not tonight, though nice try," he said. "You never give up, do you?"

"You always say that," Yanco pouted, rocking back and forth, antlers bobbing.

"That's because I don't swing that way, I've told you."

Yanco raised an eyebrow and slid his gaze away evasively.

"I'm sure you'll open your mind soon, dragon."

Makaidos lifted his head from the pillow, muzzle cocked curiously.

"What on earth do you mean? I like what I like." He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

Yanco blinked, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish while Makaidos stared. Daft deer...

"You have no idea what Thema plans for you, do you, dragon?" The buck shook his head, falling back theatrically so that his head bounced off the single, hard pillow.

"What does she have planned?"

Anxiety stirred, fluttering in his chest like the wings of a trapped moth. Yanco shook his head again, rack dancing.

"You'll see," he grinned. "For now, you should rest. If I'm still here when they call you, I'll be sure to give you a gentler awakening."

"How did you know I was going to be called?" Makaidos asked, suddenly suspicious.

"She always calls the new ones," Yanco shrugged, neatly deflecting the question. "And you are something she'd call special, though I really don't see the appeal. Rest now, you'll need it."

Taking the best advice he had heard for the day, Makaidos folded his wings and rolled on to his side, stretching out with his hind paws hanging over the end of the bed. With the brand on his rump smarting with remembered and lingering pain respectively, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

*

Yanco was not there when they tipped Makaidos from the bed.

Three of the largest slaves, African species, that Thema owned grabbed him by the tail, wings and muzzle, gripping him tightly enough to drown out protests. The tallest - taller even than Makaidos - a rhinoceros with a fearsome horn, crushed the dragon to his chest, waiting until his eyes went wide in panic to allow him a shallow breath or two. They slammed him face down on the bed, slapped cuffs around his wrists and ankles and left him in a helpless hogtie, wriggling without use of his best limbs. Though he squirmed and snarled through the paw closed around his muzzle, Makaidos could not reach the locks that clicked on the hogtie, cuffs and connecting chains too strong to break. No keys. Thema must have the keys. Of course. Above him, the elephant leered, slapping the third slave, a buffalo with a perpetually serious expression, on the back. Makaidos closed his eyes and groaned. He did not have to ask what was going on. Maybe they had chased Yanco out of the dormitory before entering. He hoped the buck was okay.

The rhino, whose name he had never caught, hoisted him bodily on to his shoulder, letting the others support his limbs and, so far, unrestrained tail. Even if his muzzle was free, Makaidos did not have to ask where they were going as he was carted like luggage through the mansion, torches flaring into life on the walls as they approached and similarly snuffing themselves out upon their retreat. It was a neat system. But he could not think about that right then. It was night time and the pool where Thema entertained her guests drew ever near.

The cool night air licked his scales, cooling beads of sweat that had slipped between his interlocking scales; it was one of few cooling mechanisms for his species. Upon the surface of the pool, one slave or another had floated white lilies, the curled inward petals cradling flickering candle flames. Could real flowers hold wax like that? He was sure Thema had her ways. He wished he knew exactly what drove the flames to dance within the petals so.

The dragon groaned as he was jostled, rearranged upon the bulky fur's shoulder for his comfort as a shoulder blade dug into his midriff. His side ached and his head throbbed as if he had charged into a brick wall. It was okay though: the pain had a time limit. The lack of pain would not last long, however, that much Makaidos was certain of. And he dreaded every iota of what was to come.

Thema glanced up as they approached, taking pleasure in the fear in the dragon's eyes. She sipped a flute of pale amber liquid, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of moisture from the glass.

"Ah, have you all seen my new slave?" Thema queried, nudging conversation in the direction she so desired. "An exotic one. He brought you in this afternoon."

The dragon trembled. She spoke of him like a possession. He wasn't a possession. He was alive. He was his own dragon.

Or was he? He was no longer sure.

The three furs who had 'captured' him deposited him on the ground with an undignified 'thump', the decking suddenly very solid after being aloft for such a time.

"You left his tail loose."

Thema scowled, making the trio quail. Inwardly, Makaidos smirked, despite striving to remain as inconspicuous as possible.