<div class="floatright">(https://static1.e621.net/data/a8/31/a831f2c6a31cd147493a9d43ebb2d684.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Zkulu (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1714186)<br/><strong>Time of day:</strong>Mid morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The crowd<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Queen<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>None<br/><br/><br/>Zkulu looks at his queen for long moments, his hands resting on his knees as he kneels before her. His ears pink slightly more as she disrobes, and he considers his situation.<br/><br/>Finally, he licks his lips before beginning. “We live in the world, each in our place, and if we are good people, then we do what is needed of us, as best we can. King, Queen and slave, we are who we are. It does little good to wish otherwise.”<br/><br/>He finally dares to look up at her, trembling a little because, despite her words, he knows he is a slave and she is a queen. “Perhaps others are different, but were I not a slave, I would still be who I am, and I am not a person who will hesitate to help another, or to serve my country, or to give what little relief I may to those whose tensions and pressures make their lives difficult.”<br/><br/>The zebra leans forward slowly, his nostrils flaring as he drinks in her scent. “Were I not a slave, my queen, my answer would be the same, unchanging.”<br/><br/>Zkulu places a warm, gentle kiss above the cloven mound of her sex, his soft brown eyes gazing up her sleek belly to meet her own. Slowly, he closes his eyes, and lowers his lips, letting his long, strong tongue tenderly and carefully go to work. Every bit of concern for his queen’s and country’s well-being are conveyed by how deliberate is his use of that hot, slowly shifting muscle as he does his absolute best to please her and help her understand that, slave or no, queen or no, he is doing this by choice.