Beast of Burden Ch. 02

"Lady Emine, are you alright?" the man asked in alarm.

"It's nothing," she told him through clenched teeth.

The young woman bent and reached down to retrieve the knife but her knuckles slammed against the ground. She grunted in surprise at the imbalance in her proprioception, suddenly unused to the position and length of her limbs. She snatched the knife quickly to hide her embarrassment.

"They- yes, I think so," he told her, patting the mare's side while trying to divert her shame. "Others, they beat their horses to break them and leave them until they're infested. Unless it's a prize stallion. The beasts of burden, they are alive as well. They think, they play, they raise their own little families and show affection, yes. Even to me. They're beautiful creatures. We keep them and they cannot care for themselves so I do it."

Distracted by his own narration, the man smiled and brushed the horse's coat, stopping only when a cloud of dust wafted away.

Emine tentatively touched the mare and the horse's tail swished from side-to-side. The creature's muscular body felt like warm marble as she slid her fingers against its side.

"And is that what she does? Carry things?" Emine asked as she dragged her nails into its side.

"No, my lady," the man said. "She pulls. Carts or wagons or sleds."

Useful, Emine thought to herself, moving to caress the mare's haunches.

The horse's tail flicked again and she trembled to see it - thick and fine ivory strands. Paler than her own hair. Hair Davud pulled. She breathed out heavily, transfixed as she remembered it. The young woman inhaled, breathing in the scent of the stable and the sweat of the animal as her mind flashed to her on all fours in bed. The horse's tail overlaid her hair and her imagery cracked as she remembered Davud slapping her ass. The rod against her. Davud, in her imagination with the others waiting behind her. Yosef's words echoed in her mind and her nostrils flared as she felt her wetness against her thighs and her knobby knees trembled.

... beat their horses to break them...

Trained and used. Shamed and mounted to provide pleasure to those who want it. Taking from her until she begs them to fill her, to show them how useful she is. How happy she was to service them. Stabled in her bed, nude and senseless until she felt hands on her ass and a hard cock against her pussy. Waiting to be used.

"Yes," Emine whispered.

"Mistress?" Yosef said.

"I-" Emine said, stepping away from the horse. She blinked rapidly, confused by her thoughts but the urge remained. She licked her lips while forcing her trembling hand from lowering to her thighs.

Without answering, she fled, rushing back into the estate to find the comfort of her own rooms. Servants yelped as she passed but they pressed against the walls to make room. Somewhere along the way, without noticing, her feet slipped free from her shoes and she ran silently on her wide, flat feet - the thin layer of leathery padding softening her foot fall.

Bone melted away from her toes and her heel, dissolving as a pocket of fat formed in place of her shrinking heel. The remaining bones pulled back as her feet began to swell. Tiny tan hairs sprouted from her ankle and the top of her feet, short and nearly invisible against her pale skin.

Once inside her room, she threw herself onto her bed, facing away from the doorway with the knife clutched in her hand. Bending her knees, she leaned forward with her longer neck - and nearly dropped her knife in shock.

Dirt lined the skin between her toes - toes that had nearly merged into two separate groups. Thick layers of dense curved yellow nails rose from her nail beds.

Emine bit her tongue carefully as she brought the knife between her big toe and the toe next to it. The edge of the blade stuck into the hard nail but she carefully sawed through until the toes were once again separate. Once finished, she followed Yosef's example and shaved the edges into approximations of her original nails. She repeated the procedure until all ten of her toes were freed.

Despite the obvious swollen nature of her feet, she smiled triumphantly and wiggled her toes. Or tried to. The knife slipped from her fingers as she realized she couldn't feel her toes. She grabbed them in her hands, digging her fingernails in but felt dull, distant pressure in return.

"No," she whispered to herself.

She remembered, suddenly, a relative of the master who had lived with them previously. His legs and feet were bloated and he claimed he could feel nothing when touched. He had delighted in making guests feel uncomfortable by pricking his legs till they bleed - all while smiling merrily. At least until his toes began to rot away and his eyes failed him. They'd buried him months ago.

"No, no, no," she whispered frantically, rubbing at her feet. The rigid sand-colored hairs dotting the tops of her feet brushed against her palm and she found herself foolishly pleased that she could still feel something. As she set her feet on the ground, more hairs emerged from the mound of her foot, spreading slowly until they reached her ankle.

She knew she should seek out the physician. She knew she should. But, she was favored. She prided herself on her appearance and her standing. Canhabibe would eat her alive if she found one simple flaw. Something like this would destroy her forever.

No, she would hide it. It must be a temporary thing. Related to her stomach being upset. Something she'd eaten. It would settle. The swelling would go down. She was perfect. She was. She had to be.

With new resolve, she stood and swept to her wardrobe. Her collection of clothing was enormous and she remembered a dress she had that trailed on the floor. It was more ceremonial than her usual dresses but Davud and his hosts would not know the difference.

Or so she hoped.

Emine slipped out of her current dress, letting it fall to the ground where a servant would collect it later. She reached for her new dress, oblivious to how high her šalvār now rode on her legs. Although the new dress was significantly more loose than the one she'd discarded, it still felt tight against her body. She fussed with it in front of the mirror, turning and admiring herself.

The curve of Emine's hump was visible in the Italian made mirror as she stood sideways. She frowned at what she assumed was her poor posture and forced herself to stand straighter. The slight bulge at the back of her dress smoothed slightly. Flexing her back, her frown deepened until a knock sounded from her doorway.

"Lady Emine," the meek voice said. She turned to find a small boy in tan and gray, bowing at the doorway. "The caravan is ready and the master sends for you."

"Thank you," she told him, her slightly dulled mind already forgetting her concern over her back. "I'll attend mo- mono- mon- shortly. I'll attend shortly."

The boy left and she followed, the edges of the long dress barely brushing the floor. Her steps were silent on her dull feet. The sway of her dress revealed her nails spreading and reattaching. Further down the hallway, the webbing continued to grow, joining her toes into two solid lumps per foot. A tiny part of her mind reveled in the freedom of walking barefooted.

A passing servant, gray and back bent with a wooden framework full of boxes paused and stood aside ahead of Emine. The sight of the servant set an itch between Emine's shoulders as she stared at the burden the woman carried. Dream voices echoed in her mind.

Lazy beast

The hairs lining her hump spread further, completely covering the sagging flesh. She whimpered as a strange, powerful urge took hold of her.

"You," Emine said to the bowing servant. The young woman licked her lips while rolling her back. A single bead of sweat rolled down her temple. She groaned, straining her lengthened neck as the bones within elongated slightly.

She tried to resist and another bead of sweat formed. The urge grew physical. Powerful. She flexed her back at the thought of it but still, she resisted.

"My lady?" the old woman asked.

"I-"

It dug deeper inside as the dream forced its reality on her. A beast to be used, two images of carrying the heavy load while also shackled in a stall, naked on all fours with cum dripping from her gaping vagina and a lustful smile on her lips.

"I'll carry your burden," Emine gasped as warmth flooded her loins. She desperately wanted to touch herself as she pictured Yosef attending her in the stall. Kind and gentle but hunger in his eyes as his hands stroked her side. "Please."

"No!" the servant shouted, bowing deeper. "I- I cannot! Please. I cannot let you carry this! The master - he would- please, I cannot."

Emine groaned as she dug her hands into her thighs.

"Go," she said tersely, before she forcefully took the pack the woman wore. Her heart pounded in her chest as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"Emine," a deep voice said behind her, startling her.

"Davud!" the girl squeaked.

"I came to find you," he chastised her. He approached, draping an arm around her waist. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said, staring into his eyes as he squeezed her body. "Davud. We have time. I need you."

"Emine," he said, his eyes wide at her advances. "They wait for us even now. There will be time tonight."

"Please," the girl said, reaching down with her long, aching arms to squeeze his cock. "I don't care. You could- oh, oh- you could take me here. Or in the yard. I don't care. On my knees. In the dirt. Yes. I- I don't care. It doesn't have to be your room. It doesn't have to be your bed. Please, Davud, I ache."

The ring of tan fur above her breasts, where the necklace had touched her skin the night before, thickened. The short hairs pushed through her skin in a spiral that quickly filled before spreading outward to her shoulders. The hairs above her breasts grew long and curly and she moaned at the sensation of the fur crawling across her body.

"Emine," the man said, swallowing but taking her hand away. "Save your passions for tonight. I don't know what's come over you but I have no time for this now. Go. Sit with the others until you're needed."

The command vibrated through her core and the thought of being forced to wait to service him drove her wild. She twisted her legs, feeling the wetness leaking between her plump pussy lips.

"Yes!" she breathed out heavily, turning to follow Davud as he stomped through the hallway.

An image flashed, overlaid on her vision. Davud holding a rope. Attached to a halter. A halter she wore as he led her away. She moaned and stumbled and the vision cleared as bright sunlight welcomed her into the courtyard.

The caravan wound its way out past the estate and she walked the length of it slowly, losing Davud when he mounted his brilliant gray stallion.

Small hairs stood on the back of Emine's neck. She paused and turned to find Oswyn staring at her. The man's smile flicked on like the flame of a lamp and he bowed but she turned to the wagon behind him. Small slits were set into the side of the wagon and she could feel a weight behind the opening. Shivering, she continued until she found the covered cart she shared with Canhabibe and Nefise.

A servant set down steps for her and she climbed them to join the two women.

"Emine," Canhabibe said dismissively. But, as the other girl passed, the stately beauty wrinkled her nose. "My dear, did that brute not leave you time to bathe?"

"What?" Emine asked. Her ears twitched beneath her long hair as she settled herself down, folding her awkward legs to the side. Light, wispy white hairs grew out from the interior of her ears as the edges of her ears folded. She rubbed at the side of her head with both hands.

"I bathed," Emine said, waving her hand vaguely. "Yesterday? Yesterday. Yesterday morning."

"You smell a little," Nefise told her. "Like the stalls where-"

"Nefise!" Canhabibe scolded. "Too blunt, girl. Despite your feelings for another, you must practice diplomacy. Ugly thoughts manifest themselves physically."

Daxeliyne, she wanted to tell the other woman. Emboldened by her interaction with the groom, the name sat on the tip of her tongue until she swallowed it. It was foolishness. Canhabibe would just mock her further. She'd fought that battle many times in the past.

"I smell fine," Emine told her. The girl's ears shifted, tilting to angle back as the tips slid through the golden curls surrounding them. She massaged her jaw, her thumb pressing just above her mandible. "It's just the other beasts you're smelling."

The other two women stared at each other silently with eyebrows raised.

"Are you- alright?" Canhabibe asked. "Barbs aside, you sound... different."

"I'm fine," Emine said, turning to look at her. Her head moved slower than she expected on her longer neck and she was forced to push further. The silky hairs lining the inside of her ears tickled her skin and her ears flicked in annoyance. "Just tired."

And she was. Exhausted from the physical changes taking hold as well as dealing with the urges pulsing and flowing within. She lay back, resting her head against her arm as the cart bumped and shuddered into motion.

---

The cobalt evening sky welcomed Emine as she woke, stiff from her travels. She groaned when she sat up, massaging her sore neck and jaw. Camp was already set up with servants running between the carts and wagons but she'd been left to rest. As she moved, she realized her loose dress was as tight as ever, outlining her form in a way that left little to the imagination.

She pushed herself up and the dress lifted to show her bare, furred feet. The young woman stepped carefully on long, bony legs until she let herself down the stairs at the side of the cart. After many trips with her master, she knew his tent but, even without knowing, it was obvious who stayed in the largest tent at the center of camp.

Emine walked through the twilight on thick, rounded feet. The sand, still burning from the sun sitting on the horizon, barely bothered the padding lining her soles. Her hips rocked with the gait her changed feet forced upon her - raising and lowering her feet as if stamping. Sounds and laughter distracted her, forcing her hair-lined ears to swivel as she made her way to her master.

Smiling in the fading light, she could already feel his touch as her lower belly began to grow warm. She felt so incredibly empty since their lovemaking the night before and being riled all day.

When she reached the tent, the two cebelu standing at the entrance moved as if to stop her. She ignored them, pushing aside the flap to step inside.

Canhabibe and Nefise lady naked and writhing against Davud but they all stopped at her entrance. Nefise wrinkled her nose and then hid her face behind Davud's head as she clung to him with her lithe, dark body.

Davud leered at her tightened dress, staring at the way it seemed to mold itself to her sore breasts.

"Gah," Davud said suddenly, freeing an arm to wave in front of his face. "Go bathe, Emine. You smell like you've slept with the horses. Go. Go! Bathe and then come back to me and join the others."

Red crept into Emine's face and she bit her lip in shame as she stared at the rugs lining the tent floor. She breathed deeply but smelled nothing unusual and she wondered what she'd done wrong to be so insulted.

"Ye- yes," she muttered before turning and stumbling away. Her strange former grace vanished, leaving her spindly legs as awkward as before. She yelped and swung her arms as she tripped over a small stone.

"Careful!" a voice told her, catching her before she hit the ground.

It took a moment to recognize the voice through the fog filling her mind but the accent gave him away and she broke apart to find Oswyn standing nearby.

"Mistress Emine," the man said with a nod. "Are you well?"

Emine writhed as fur marched down her chest to cover her breasts, the tiny hairs prickling her skin in an intense wave.

"Yesssss," the girl hissed with fluttering eyes. Her arousal, momentarily destroyed after leaving Davud's tent, began to reassert itself as her body grew sensitive and her fur teased her soft skin. "Yes. Sorry, yes. I'm fine."

"I'm surprised to see you apart from your master," Oswyn said, glancing towards the tent.

"I'm- I was-" she muttered, cursing her suddenly slow wit. "I have to go bathe. Please, excuse me."

"Really?" Oswyn said, taking a step closer. She shuffled her large feet but avoided his gaze. "And why is that?"

"They said," she swallowed, scratching at her belly. "They said I smell. Like animals."

"Ahh," Oswyn nodded. "Ah. I see. Do you know what I say to that?"

"What?" she asked, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

"They lack passion," he whispered. "Tell me. Do you find Davud a competent lover?"

"I- I-" she stammered.

"Bathe?" he scoffed. "Where's the intimacy? Where's the passion? Where is the heat you feel standing together in the moment and you decide that you don't care about anything else than bedding your lover?"

She blushed as her body hummed with growing need.

"Do you think animals stop to bathe before breeding?" Davud whispered. "Do you think, when they mate, they stop and swim through the river to cleanse themselves?"

"I'm- I'm not a-" Emine stuttered.

"No. No," Oswyn said, whispering fiercely. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, their faces inches apart. "You are an animal. Prized and owned as a pet, your room as much a stable as your master's stallion. You're kept. Given silks and painted and shown to others as a trophy. Bedded on command. Filled with your master's seed and given in to the lusts and urges coursing through you. At your master's whim, whether it be his bed or in the field or in the middle of camp, surrounded by a leering, jeering crowd waiting their turn."

"Yesssss," Emine hissed, her eyes glazed as the heat coursed through her body to cloud her mind. She could feel the hands on her, grabbing and pulling as she offered herself up - as she pleasured the men on all fours until she lay exhausted and filled.

Her rose-colored lips, already full, began to push outward. Her right hand slid up to massage her jaw and then over, her fingertips brushing and tugging the growing flesh. Along the side of her head, her hair shifted as her ears lengthened, the ends vibrating as the movement tickled her skin. The inside of her slightly folded ears were concealed by white hairs. Her hands traveled up to tug and pull at her ears before moving down her body once more, her nails clawing at her sides.

"And isn't that right?" the Englishman asked. "Isn't that normal for a beast like yourself? To take a man's burden? To ease his stress and troubles and obey his command? To serve at his desire whenever and wherever he wants? It's natural for you to want this. Just as natural as the earth and sand and dirt around you. Animals don't need clothing or perfume or finery. Do they?

"No," the girl said, her eyes dilated as her hands roamed her body, squeezing her aching breasts and pulling at the curly sand-colored hairs lining her belly. A grating, cracking creaking sounded throughout her body as her neck elongated another fraction of an inch. "No, I don't need any of that."

Emine leaned forward, her thick lips parted as she tried to kiss Oswyn. He held a hand out gently against her breastbone and she blinked at him with her long, thick lashes in confusion. She was so incredibly horny and he was right there for her. She just wanted to make him happy.