Breaking in the new servant

The Prince's domain is what you can only describe as 'disgustingly extravagant'. While the rest of the castle has been luxuriant, it was so in an elegant and tasteful way. This. This was just obscenely gaudy. Every inch of the cavernous room was decorated in gold and jewels, enough wealth to buy several duchies all concentrated into a single place and wantonly used as mere decoration. The colossal bed on the opposite end of the room, piled high with silken cushions and draped with fine sheer curtains from the golden canopy, resembles a throne in the way it dominates the room with it's presence. It was like a miniature castle within another castle with its own servants milling about, although they weren't dressed nearly as well as the ones outside. Their clothes were very plain, closely resembling those you and other peasants wore normally, and some weren't wearing clothes at all, simply going about their tasks completely nude without a care, but all of them had the same golden collar around their necks.

"Welcome home, King Brynn." Says a morbidly obese, and completely nude, satyr holding a platter with several golden bottles of wine to the rotten prince. "How was your trip to the castle?"

"Awful. -wheeze- That incompetent tailor has failed once again. -Bruarp- and some worthless dukes -huff- tried to deny ME a new -urp- pet." He spits between labored breaths as he grabs a bottle in each of his bloated paws, jams them into his fat maw and boorishly begins to guzzle them down, not caring as the priceless drink just spills down his chins and chest, staining his pristine white fur a deep red. Within seconds both bottles are empty and he just carelessly casts them to the floor with booming -BBBBBBBEEEEEEAAAAAARRRRRCCCCHHH- directly into the satyr's face who doesn't even flinch.

"I'm sorry they fail you, you're majesty, they don't understand your greatness. Do you need someone to breed to make you feel better?" The satyr asks with the tone of a doting parent.

"No. -BWUAORP- I've got one right here." Brynn tugs on your arm and grabs another bottle of wine to chug down in one go. "-UUUUUUUAAAOOORRRPPPPP- Have the chef make me a snack. -BWOOARP- Something good, not that foie gras shit he served me -UUuurrp- earlier." He throws the empty bottle on the floor with the other two before looking at you with lust in his eyes "And get a collar for my new pet."

"Yes, your highness." He responds before handing you the platter of wine before walking off.

Brynn returns his attention to you and takes the remaining bottles of wine in his paws. "On the bed, pet." He pushes you forward before working the bottles into his insatiable maw and gulping their precious contents down. He slowly prods you down the luxurious red carpet that paves the way to the bed as fast as his bloated mammoth legs can lug his immense bulk.