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Exile

Brutus the Plower.

The paragon of foxes. A true Hero of the Republic.

Alpha Firat Pasha declared an end to fox overlordship over wolven lands. The Alpha led a fierce horde into fox lands, making it as far west as Vulpezzia.

Brutus met him there. The Alpha, so brave when he was against fearful peasants, now cowered before one who showed no fear. Firat Pasha was at the back of his horde, barking orders, when Brutus charged forward on his old plowing horse, dodging and weaving arrows and lances thrust at him by countless rows of the horde as if he were atop a youthful stallion.

Brutus split the Alpha's helmet and his skull with one blow from the blade of his hoe and the nomads, fearful of the courageous hero, dispersed.

He was immediately declared the Hero of the Republic and Dictator, which he would occupy the post for a mere month, abandoning it as soon as he cleaned up the rest of the wolves who invaded and put a more docile Alpha in control of the Alphate.

Thus ended the brief and pitiful Pasha Dynasty, if it can even be called that.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months...

Yes, it had been months since my exile. How many, I cannot recall. I dated every letter I sent back to that despotic pirate Philippe, but I never was able to recover them, nor could I remember the contents of them, save for the most memorable. The task I was assigned to here was even more worthless than Philippe could ever have imagined and not a single pirate ship passed by. Endless foxen trade cogs sailed by from the African colonies, mixed in with the occasional fennec fishing boat. My guards grew antsy whenever the latter approached, keeping their eyes trained on them and their paws on their hilts until they had passed out of sight. The fennec clans had a bit of a troubled relationship with the Republic, with us having occupied and colonized every major part along their coast and press-ganged most of the occupants into indefinite, unpaid servitude. The nomads felt a little entitled to the wealth of the colonies as a result of this and often raided settlements, so I could understand a bit of the anxiety my guards felt, but the fennecs had nothing in the way of a navy and mounting a raid on an island like this would be impossible for them.

I would document every such sighting and then send it off when the courier ship arrived. It was then that I received a letter as well and I learned that the former Admiral's torments would not cease with my exile.

General Marco,

You will be pleased to hear that we are at peace.

As discussed just prior to your ocular surgery, we met with an Alphate peace delegation and have negotiated a very generous peace settlement. We now control our rightful territories west of the Danubian River and trade has began to flow once more between us. Your little Pesht-Kutlar pup has been returned to his family, shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

You'll also be pleased to hear that your dear sister, Sophia, played a role in these negotiations. Being such a beauty, I proposed marrying her into Alpha Aokus's harem as a sign of friendship between fox and wolf. The ambassador had to, sadly, politely refuse on the grounds of some obscure piece of harem protocol, but not before him and his delegation examined her very closely. Not an inch of her body wasn't groped and smelled by the wolves, truly her beauty is one that can be appreciated by all children of the Gods.

Please attach your report and write up a personal letter. I would like to hear what you think about my letter and I would prefer you address everything I covered and give me your thoughts. I do not like being ignored.

The whole time I read the letter, a pain in my empty eye socket grew. It got even worse when I was escorted back to the lighthouse and into my office by Two-Lips and the lion, and forced into my desk. I wrote up the most milquetoast and forcefully polite reply to his reprehensible letter, resisting the urge to tell him what I would do to him if I were in Vulpezzia after what he did to my sister, and instead thanked him for letting her be felt-up by a filthy wolven dignitary, but requested that I handle all matters of her courtship and marriage.

This was how every exchange of letters went with Philippe. He would begin with some proclamation of triumph about some new adventure or political reform and then finish with a disturbed fantasy of what he could do to Sophia: from marrying her to an inbred dog King to having her mounted by the entire crew of his flagship. The worst one was when he described in great detail, my sister being raped by a horde of wolven nomads, followed by their horses. On rare occasions, his letters would just outright threaten to have her killed at the first sign of disloyalty from me.

He did this because he thought it would hurt me and he was right. Every letter was a torture far greater than the pain in my eye-socket. The fantasies he wrote down were twisted and the worst part about them was that some of the less elaborate ones were chillingly plausible and I could only presume he was capable of pulling them off.

I would have given anything for a pair of ears in the city loyal to me. But all I had was Philippe.

Hilboun Island was tiny. Aside from the three-storied lighthouse that I wrote my letters in and tended to the fire crowned atop it, there was only a small field in front of it that was mostly sand with a few strands of dried grass. The sun blazed as if we were only inches away from it and the sky rarely had more than a few tiny clouds in it. I don't think it ever rained once.

The ocean was a vibrant blue that I lost myself in for hours on end. If you squinted really hard, you could see the tips of old human buildings drowned in the sea, made from that strange gray stone that they were made of. There were a few days when I was almost tempted to go diving for treasure to stave off the boredom, like I did as a kit with my friends at Vulpezzia, but it had been a long time since I had done that and I was not familiar with the waters. I couldn't risk anything happening to me as that would have consequences for Sophia that I tried not to think about.

I spent most of the time fishing using a pole I found in the cellar, using a small piece of meat from our rations as bait. The guards didn't stop me, with either Two-Lips or the lion hovering around me silently while I did it, probably because I actually caught a fish once in awhile which I shared among us.

Other times, I would draw up battlefield strategies in the sand from battles both real and imagined. I tried to teach the guards a bit of the art of strategy, but grew frustrated when Two-Lips wouldn't stop arguing when I kept pointing out that fixed fortifications meant nothing when you had enough troops to cut off all supply lines, and the lion, having lived most of his life as a personal bodyguard and a failed bachelor pride leader, had no patience for strategy beyond rushing the enemy and killing them. The rest of the guards showed no interest in such things.

It was during such an argument that a guest arrived.

"No! No! No!" I shouted, slapping the X's drawn in the sand with a stick to represent Two-Lips's Republic militia. They were lined up in a series of straight rows, each one with at least one flank exposed. In contrast, my army, which I based on the Wolven Alphate's, had several cavalry divisions that were in a prime position to maneuver around my foe, along with a front line of infantry and archers that would skirmish with the militia in the meantime. "Your flank is exposed! Even a kit who was dropped on his head a hundred times wouldn't make such a mistake!"

Two-Lips spat sharply, "You told me not to guard my flank. Make up yer damn mind!"

"Not if you insist on clinging to static, unimaginative stratagems like this! The wolves will only charge into a pike wall if they have no other choice and in this case, they have about a million!" I drew lines from my cavalry divisions showing them slamming into Two-Lips' flanks, along with a third that managed to slam into them from behind. "You're surrounded because you didn't have any cavalry, light or heavy, guarding your static flank; what now?"

The blood-red fox threw up his arms, "I surrender."

"At least you know when you're beaten..." I muttered, drawing another line leading to a series of small houses, swishing the homes out of existence with the trip of the stick, "...the wolven commander accepts your surrender and sodomizes you in front of all his soldiers. While he's doing that, his cavalry raids the village, raping and murdering everyone you love."

"Come on!" Two-Lips complained. "Only the nomadic wolves act like that!"

"War brings out the animal in all of us. Once you surrender, everything is up to an animal's mercy, remember that and thank yourself that they don't eat you like an animal would!"

"Fine, next time I'm going to fortify the town again."

"Back to static fortifications again, I see..."

The lion suddenly snapped his jaws, breaking us away from the sights and smells of a blood-soaked battlefield and back to the sandy, dreary existence that was Hilboun. He was glaring at the ocean with unusually aggressive eyes, even for a lion. It didn't take my eye long to see what stole his attention: a small, brown boat with a single occupant, and it was rowing towards the shore.

"Canis be damned!" Two-Lips spat, snarling at the approaching visitor. "What's the deal!?"

"What's the problem, exactly?"

"We weren't expecting no visitors, that's what."

"This is a lighthouse," I motioned towards the bright, orange flame atop the tower, "stands to reason that we'd get a few people needing rescue."

"That's not-"

"Quiet," the lion growled as the boat got near the shore. The rower was a fox with brown, matted fur and wearing a sea-soaked burlap tunic. He looked positively overjoyed at spotting us and waved.

"Just stay calm," Two-Lips muttered, padding across the beach towards the water.

The boat was quickly beached and the fox stumbled out, falling face first into the sand. He pulled himself to his knees and crawled towards us like a starving pet, falling at our feet and staring up at us with his hands clasped together.

"T-thank you! Canis, Felis, Ursus..."

"What's your business here?" Two-Lips demanded.

"I was shipwrecked en-route to Iberia from Malta! A caravel rammed into the cog I was on and I just barely got onto the life-boat in time! Gods, I hope the others made it..."

"Uh huh..."

"It was a damned wolf ship! I saw their banner! Those gray bastards have been flaunting the treaty!" his amber eyes locked onto me and his pupils narrowed to a paper-thin slit. "Wait, aren't you...?"

"Let me get this straight," Two-Lips said, taking a seat in the sand next to him, "you're the only survivor of a shipwreck and no one along the African coast is expecting to see you alive anytime soon?"

"I-I guess, but I don't-"

The lion scooped up the emaciated fox in his arms and took him to the water. The fox struggled, clawing at the lion's eyes, but the lion quickly secured his wrists and stopped any resistance. Upon reaching the water, the lion throw the fox down face-first into the water and grabbed the back of his head, holding it underwater.

The fox's legs kicked as he thrashed violently, struggling until the very end and only slowing down when his end drew near. Then he went limp.

Two-Lips spat upon the body and walked away, heading back up to the field in front of the lighthouse. As he passed me, he made sure to remind me to include this in my report.

"Marco shrieked like a bitch in heat as the muscular lion pounded his ass from behind with his barbed cock.

"More! More!" the General begged as a trickle of red ran down the white fur around his anus.

The three foxes ejaculated ropes of white cream and Marco opened his slender, fragile maw to swallow the spurts."

I found a copy of this story in the Republic's archives. It appears to have been crafted under Philippe's orders and read aloud by bards and storytellers for the adoring public. I could never find anyone who admitted to performing it nor anyone who claimed ownership of the words. However, I do know that many foxes have a few strange ideas of what occurred on Hilboun.

Despite being alone on an island with only a few equally alone guards, nothing at all like Philippe's erotic drama ever occurred. There was one incident that stuck out as a result of the lack of intimacy.

I was sitting on the rim of the stone, circular roof of the tower, next to the roaring lighthouse fire. A haze of smoke mixed with the night sky, blotting out the entire world. My concentration was broken by he clack of Two-Lips' claws scratching against the stone floor as he clamored up the ladder behind me.

"Hey, stop rubbing one out! We're putting out the fire!" Two-Lips barked, pulling up a wooden bucket full of water that someone passed up through the trap-door.

I jumped up in surprise, leaping towards the guard. I grabbed the bucket and began to wrestle for control of it.

"What the hell are you doing!?" I snarled.

"Give me the fucking bucket!"

"No!"

"Dammit, cyclops! We're going to scuttle that Alphate ship we spotted before sundown!"

"That's idiotic!"

"No! Think about it! Think about what they're carrying! They're carrying freshly caught slaves to Fox territory for sale!"

"And!?"

"We could save them! And keep them on the island for company!"

I lunged forward and geckered fiercely at Two-Lips, "I'm not going to kill a bunch of merchants so we can keep a bunch of smelly humans here!"

"Wolven merchants!" Two-Lips snapped his jaws back at me. "And fucking a couple of humans will beat rubbing each other's knots while talking about vixens back home!"

"There's a treaty!" I growled, giving the bucket a sharp tug. Two-Lips stumbled forward but kept his claws stuck deep in the wood. "I don't care if it's a bullshit one, there's still a damned treaty!"

"They've already broken it!"

"You only-"

Two-Lips let go of the bucket and I clutched it to my chest tightly, but this was all part of the guard's plan. I looked up to see his ebony claws sweeping towards my remaining eye and I dropped the bucket, covering my eye up with my paws.

My ear twitched as I heard the splash of water sizzling on hot coals. Steam filled my nostrils and I coughed violently. Tw0-Lips slapped me on the shoulder and stepped towards the rim of the lighthouse, illuminated dimly by the few remaining embers. His bushy tail wagged eagerly and he smiled towards the darkness.

"Just wait cyclops..." Two-Lips muttered, rubbing his paws together. Even over the water vapor and smoke, I could smell his rancid, amorous musk, "...soon we'll have company..."

They never came. Two-Lips spent three whole days peering through the spyglass while the rest of us explored the coast over and over. On the fourth night, we started up the fire once again and that was probably only because our monthly supply ship was going to arrive soon. Two-Lips' fear of starvation or piracy laws overrode his carnal desires.

It was a year. It must have been a year now.

I was on the beach trying to teach Two-Lips and the rest of the guards how to effectively perform a Francian pincer against a horde of Ursine heavy infantry, while Two-Lips led the Ursines and was doing a terrible job at it. It wasn't long before I had his army in a pincer and was about to make the final, killing blow when he started laughing.

"Something funny?" I asked.

"Nah, it's just I know what's gonna happen," Two-Lips covered his nose to muffle his snickers.

"If you saw what was going to happen, then why didn't you win?" I scraped a stick across the sand to show my army advancing on Two-Lips's exposed rear. "My army charges through your defenses and I capture your general-"

"And then let me guess, you fuck him in the ass in front of his men?"

The lion began to laugh along with his fox companion.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Every time we do this, it always ends with sodomy, sodomy, sodomy!" Two-Lips made an obscene gesture with this fingers. "Yeh've got a real fixation on this, yeh know?"

"I do not!"

"Ain't nothing wrong with you wanting a thick wolf cock in the ass. Ain't judging!" Two-Lips then broke out into guffaws as he put his arm around the lion's back while they shared a laugh.

The lion then pulled out a piece of parchment, the latest letter from the Dictator. Two-Lips snatched it and began reading out his latest sexual threat against my sister, this time involving her getting gang-raped by a pack of Hyena's to break her before getting sold to their Queen.

I would kill them all one day, I promised myself as Two-Lips stroked his crotch when continuing his depraved narration.

But my murderous thoughts were interrupted by a small, brown rowboat gradually drifting towards us. Another fox was in the boat, this one's bright orange fur sticking out like a sore thumb.

"Oh look, another dead fox," Two-Lips snickered.

"Canis! Can't we just let him go!"

"Not if he's as dumb as the last one."

It was all so pointless. The murder of the last shipwreck victim, the endless days and nights where nothing happened, and now they were going to kill another innocent victim. War was a lot more honest than this, there were clear actions and consequences, not mere punishment for being in the wrong place and time.

The fox landed on the beach with haste. Unlike the last one, his clothes were dry and intact, a simple white shirt with brown trousers tied to his waist with a belt of rope. He had two black streaks running down the front sides of his cream muzzle. His left ear had a long tear running from the outside flap to the center of it, looking like it would only take one sharp yank to rip the entire thing off. He was standing tall and strong, not the least bit disheveled, and save for him smelling like stale salt water, he looked like he hadn't spent a single minute adrift at sea.

"Greetings! Have you got any tar to spare!"

Two-Lips looked to me and then the lion.

"This-this is a Republican outpost ain't it?" the visitor tilted his head to the side slightly, pale yellow eyes twitching in the lion's direction.

"Yeah, it is," Two-Lips finally said.

"Great!" the newcomer clapped his paws together and sighed deeply. "Name's Angelo. Rowed all the way from the African coast, got our ship anchored there for repairs and we'd rather brave the waters in this here rowboat than search the fennec lands for supplies!"

"So, someone's waiting for you, hm?"

I screamed in my head at him to be careful, to say the right words. But I couldn't say anything, if I did, they'd kill him and then probably report it back to Philippe, giving him reason to act on his sick fantasies.

"Yes! The captain is impatient, so if you have any tar, I could really use it."

I sighed in relief.

"A lot can happen to a fox who rowed that far..." Two-Lips muttered to me and the lion. I chewed on my lip nervously.

"The, uh, the tar?" the visitor asked, having stepped dangerously close to me and the guards. He took out a lacy, white handkerchief and gently dabbed at his salt-soaked brow, a strange possession for a sailor.

Two-Lips grinned widely, a painful-looking expression thanks to the split in his snout that gave him his namesake.

"If you've got a bucket, we've got more than enough to share," Two-Lips said.

"I do! Here, hold this!" he passed me the handkerchief. "It's my sister's, don't want to get tar on it!"

With a happy swish of his tail, the visitor spun around and made his way back to the rowboat. I saw Two-Lips put his paw on the cudgel tied to his hip and slowly creep up behind the fox.

I wrote off the visitor at this point. He was dead, nothing that could be done about that. Far too trusting, that was his sickness. At this point, I figured I might as well make use of the handkerchief before the rest of the guards had a sniff of it and covered it in brand new fluids, so I pressed it to my nose and inhaled deeply.

My muscles eased up. Beneath the briny musk of the visitor was a complex mixture of herbs that seemed to take my worries away. It was strange, normally such a mixture would give me a headache, but breathing it in now was relaxing, almost intoxicating.

And then I took in the base of the scent. A floral aroma that was distant, as if it traveled from across the world. Lilac.

My eyes flew open.

Sophia!

I darted past Two-Lips, who had lifted the cudgel above his head, ready to strike a fatal blow; and tackled the visitor, pinning him face-down in the sand.

His arms thrashed about in a panic but I was able to wrap my arms around them, securing my grip. He whimpered as I bit down on the scruff of his neck, forcing him to go limp.

"Play along," I whispered.

A single fearful eye stared back at me. As soon as he began nodding in response, I stopped him by slapped him sharply across the face.

"I've been wanting that sweet ass since you landed here!" I growled, freeing on of my paws and reaching around the front of his trousers, pulling the rope belt away. I guided his tail through the rear hole and yanked the trousers down. His tail tucked through his legs, covering up his rear. I pulled his tail up, causing him to yelp and his fur bristling up, revealing the tiny, pink hole that was surrounded by soft, white fur.

"Think we've been making fun of you too much," Two-Lips remarked with a pained sigh as he slipped the cudgel back into the loop on his hip. "You tryin' to prove something or what?"

"Two-Lips, I've been on this island for too long without a good fuck and I'm not going to let this one get away!" I growled huskily as I rubbed my thighs up against the fox's rear. "You've been desperate too, don't fucking deny it!"

"Cyclops, you got some serious issues," Two-Lips groaned, "but you ain't wrong. But this ain't a slave, he's a free fox; he'll be trouble an' so will we if someone comes sniffing around."

"Oh no! We'll keep him in the cellar and I'll have him broken by nightfall. He wouldn't dare try to escape," I gave the fox a slow lick, letting a thick glob of drool trickle down his cheek, much to his disgust. "I told you how I broke that wolf on the campaign, didn't I?"

"Only about a hundred fucking times," the lion grumbled, breaking his usual silence.

"Take him to the cellar an' don't ruin him, ya hear?"

I wrestled the fox to his feet. He jolted, trying to break away in a moment of weakness, but I twisted his arms behind his back, forcing him to yelp in pain. I nipped at the scruff of his neck once again and ground my sheath against his rear, letting him know who was in charge here.

He didn't resist any further as I pushed him across the beach and up the small hill leading to the lighthouse. Two-Lips followed close behind, palm resting atop the grip of his club, ready to strike just in case he needed to.

The entrance room of the lighthouse was bare of any furniture, save for the wooden ladder leading up to the bedroom and the fire-pit above that, and a trapdoor built into the rough, wood floor that was very easy to make out as a good chunk of the floor-board next to it was broken off. I released one of my paws from my hold on the fox and leaned down, flipping the trapdoor open, revealing a dark pit with a thin, ramshackle ladder vanishing into it.

"Go!" I barked, prodding him forward. He didn't budge.

"Looks like yer having some trouble there," Two-Lips hawked up a glob of spit onto the floor, "why don't ye let me handle it. Go back on the beach and draw yer pictures in the san-"

Two-Lips stopped abruptly as I stormed to the front of the visitor and slapped him across the face with my paw, catching the side of his muzzle with my claws, which I had been keeping sharp on the island. He spun around from the impact of the blow, reeling over and stumbling from side to side until his foot landed on the empty space below the trap door and he fell, slamming his back against the rim of the door and disappearing below with a thud.

"Oh shit!" I snapped, scrambling onto the ladder and sliding down. I didn't mean for that to happen, I just wanted to give a little show to make Two-Lips back off. It worked in spades, Two-Lips was now howling with laughter and he kicked the trapdoor shut, giving me exactly what I wanted: privacy.

But all of this wouldn't matter if the visitor split his head open! I was barely able to make out the fox laying prone at the foot of the ladder through the dim lantern light that escaped through the broken floorboard from above, and jumped off the ladder, dodging a pile of twine carelessly trailing from an open crate and knelt down at his side and shoved him.

"Hey! Get up!"

His eyes opened narrowly and he tilted his head to stare at me. Two crimson claw marks ran across his cream muzzle and blood was slowly dripping out. I lapped at the wound, the salt from the blood tasting unusually good, until the bleeding began to slow down.

I was worried that he had struck his head, as he was not making a lot of noise or moving much, so I began feeling around his body for wounds. I rubbed my paws against his head, but found no trace of any blood and he didn't react as if there was any fresh bruising underneath his fur. Then I moved underneath his shirt, running along his back and to the front, he yelped when I did this, but it didn't feel like he had any broken ribs.

It was then that I heard the heavy footsteps of Two-Lips from above, stepping out of the lighthouse and closing the door behind him.

"We have time to talk," I whispered, slapping him lightly on the unharmed side of his muzzle. I took out the handkerchief and shoved it into the tip of his nose. "Where did you get this?"

His eyes grew wide and his pupils dialated wide, even for the dim lighting we were in. Rotten fear wafted from his scent glands. For a brief moment, I grew afraid that I had just kidnapped an innocent bystander. A fox who had just happened to have a sister with a similar scent to Sophia's, whom I had just doomed to a nasty, short life in the cellars of the lighthouse.

"Sophia sends her regards," he muttered, "and she wishes to let you know that she's safe."

My heart fluttered with relief and I, who have never been the most pious of foxes, desperately thanked Canis in my head.

"Thank Canis!" I repeated, out loud this time. "She hasn't been mistreated by that pirate, has she?"

The fox slowly rose up, onto his rear and titled his head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Philippe has been sending me letters about the things he'll do to her if I try to escape from exile!"

"He'll have a hard time doing anything to her," he shook his head with a smile. "She's in Dalmatia under the protection of General Vito. That giant of yours stumbled into our camp one night with her in tow. As soon as you didn't come out of the Senate, he sensed something was wrong and got back to your home before the Dictator's men could."

Relief washed over me and for the first time in, gods, it must have been a year at this point! Goliath and Vito, I was blessed with such true friends! Relief soon mutated into a cold, silent anger. A dim fire burning in my heart, a fire that hungered for Philippe's pelt for tinder and his snapped bones for kindling.

He fooled me for a year. Stranded me on this shit-hole for a fucking year! Made me read and respond to every one of his depraved fantasies and the whole time, I didn't know that they were as impotent as the wolven Alpha.

I would kill him. I would drag him from the Senate, into the streets and have him humiliated before the city. I would break him upon the wheel and leave him there until the sun burned his fur away and the crows pecked out his eyes.

And now, with Sophia safe, I had something even more dangerous: patience. I wouldn't rush into things the same way as before, I would bide my time, let the Dictator gargle the finest wines and enjoy the best meats that Europe had to offer. He could have the position for five years and it would mean nothing, all that mattered was that I would dethrone him.

"You served Vito?" I asked calmly, mind still focusing on how I would destroy Philippe. "I don't recall you in my army."

"Joined up shortly after you left for Vulpezzia," he explained. We grabbed each other by the shoulder and leaned in, taking a sniff from each side of the other's cheek. His scent was briny from both the sea salt in the air and the blood caked against his fur, "name's Laurent. Was part of a theater troupe that got stuck in Pest until you saved us."

"Hah! We were probably the ones that got you stuck there!"

"Well, yes, yes you were! You really raised hell!" Laurent laughed, slapping the side of his knee. "But things were better once you liberated us. Couldn't so much as go to a neighboring town without a wolven auditor stopping us to review our production notes or demand a bribe."

I smiled, "I can proudly say that I killed every corrupt wolf in town during my brief governorship. I like to think I made the world a better place."

"Yeah, but then that Philippe put some sycophantic boot-licker in charge of the area and then he started punishing the good wolves," he paused for a second, scratching his chin. "Good might be too strong a word. Necessary would be better. Anyway, he ordered the theft of all wolven ranches in Carpathia and gave them to his pals from Vulpezzia who ruined just about everything. A lot of stomachs went empty that season and people got desperate..."

"I don't like where this is going."

"Emir Pesht-Kutlar came riding across from wolven Carpathia, carrying a train of food into Pesht and a horde of nomad mercenaries. There was no choice but to accept his food and all the terms that came with them."

I snarled, tightening my paw into a fist, claws digging into my palm, "Are you telling me that Carpathia has gone back to the Alphate!?"

"Worse! Emir declared himself Alpha of the Free Alphate of Carpathia and now lords over both the Republican side and the Alphate half like a robber baron. He lets his nomads ride free across the lands, raping and pillaging at a whim, so long as he gets his share of the trophies. Neither Philippe nor Aokus dare to intervene, for fear of starting another war between wolf and fox!"

I knew from the very moment Philippe had told me his hare-brained plan for peace in Carpathia that it would fail spectacularly, but I never expected it to be this bad. It was almost like he wanted to lose Carpathia just so he could say that he destroyed my greatest military accomplishment.

"General Marco..."

"I'm not a General anymore."

"General Marco," Laurent repeated, "General Vito is anxiously awaiting your return so that we might liberate Carpathia and then use it as our base of operations to overthrow the Dictator."

"A lofty goal," I smiled, "I'm in. But first, how do you intend to escape?"

His ears bent back and he frowned, "The plan was to row to Africa and-"

"And how are we going to do that?"

"Oh..." he trailed off, nibbling at the tips of his claws, "...we might need to revise the plan a bit..."

Above us, came a slow creek as the door the lighthouse opened. Footsteps followed.

I shoved Laurent onto his belly and pulled down my trousers.

"Please! Don't!" he begged pitifully. It was a good performance, he really must have been in an acting troupe.

"Such a sweet little vixen, aren't you?" I stroked his cheek with one paw while rubbed the tip of my cock with the other, goading it to come out of hiding from its sheathe.

"N-no, I'm-!"

"Yeah, you are. You're like a vixen in heat, the way you're thrusting your ass at me. You want me so bad, don't you?"

Two-Lips laughed from above the floorboards, "Let us know when yer done with him!"

The footsteps trailed once again outside of the lighthouse and the door shut behind him.

Laurent relaxed with a sigh, but I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck tightly. This time, he whimpered for real.

"What are you doing, General?"

"Putting on a show for the guards," I reached over to his thigh, cupping his fuzzy balls in my palm. "They're going to check you over, you know that?"

He whined, long and drawn out.

"Come on, you were in the army. Are you trying to tell me that you never tried-?"

"No!"

I laughed, "Gods, that Vito needs to get laid. Even his soldiers aren't getting their cocks wet!"

"I have a vixen back home waiting for me!"

Grabbing a vase, I poured out some olive oil onto my cock, lubricating it so as to make things easier for Laurent. I had plenty left over on my paw, so I gently stuck the tip of my finger into his anus. He yelped as I probed inside of it, loosening him up and making it slippery enough to allow easy entry. I was careful not to scratch him with my claw, even when my finger was in up to the knuckle.

"What happens in the army, stays in the army, okay?"

"I don't know..."

"Name your favorite hero of the Republican military and I'll tell you who he's buggered."

"General Vito."

I paused. Laurent was on his knees facing away from me, so he couldn't see the disapproving look I cast down at him.

"Name your second favorite, smart-ass," I grumbled.

"Brutus! Brutus the Plower!"

Smirking, I leaned my thigh against Laurent's rear and nuzzle against his cheek gently with the tip of my nose. He tried to resist moaning as the tip of my cock teased his hole.

"Brutus plowed more than just wheat fields," I poked my nose into his damaged ear and whispered lowly, "after he killed the rebellious Alpha and resigned as Dictator, he returned to his farm, but not because he was humble and thought that he accomplished everything he sought out to do, no, it was because he had a young stable-hand who worked on his farm that he wanted to see again after a long war.

He met him in the stables. The air reeking with manure and horse-sweat. Their eyes met and the said nothing. Brutus grabbed him by the shoulders," I put my palms on Laurent's thin shoulders, "spun him around, leaned him over, pulled his pants down, and with one mighty thrust..."

I shoved my cock into Laurent's rear, forcing him to scream in surprise.

"Canis! Gods!" Laurent gasped as I continued plowing him from behind, not relenting for a second. Who knew how closely the guards would care to look him over? If he wasn't a little bit sore, they'd think I was going soft on him.

Still, I didn't want to hurt him too much, so I tried to make it enjoyable. I probed around with each thrust, trying to find the right spot to make him squeal with joy. Eventually, I found it and he responded with a sharp gasp.

"Yeah, you like that?" I growled, gnawing on his scruff. He arched his back in ecstasy.

"Yes! Ow! Don't stop...!"

"Brutus plowed his lover from behind and the young fox whined like a bitch in heat," I released my bite and gave Laurent a few friendly licks on the cheek, "he loved his master and was so happy to see him alive."

"Gods! This is...!"

My knot began to swell. Part of me wanted to spare him this for his first time, like any decent fox would do for his male partner, but it wouldn't be doing him any favors if the guards got their turns. I shoved my cock in as deep as I could, illiciting an ear-splitting scream of ecstasy from Laurent as I slammed into the right spot deep inside him.

"Brutus's knot swelled up, tying the two lovers together," I whispered, breaking the story for a moment. "Brace yourself."

He gnashed his teeth together as my knot grew, the ring of his anus forming a tight seal around it. Laurent gasped after it reached its zenith in size.

"Wasn't so bad..." he muttered.

I continued thrusting as well as I could, but the tie was so tight that I could barely move at all inside him.

"They knew they would be together forever..." I whispered.

My cock throbbed and a jet of semen shot out into his rear. Laurent panted, tongue lolling out in exhaustion, as I noticed that his cock was doing the same thing, spurting out a puddle onto the dark, stone floor of the basement.

We collapsed onto the floor, Laurent's belly landing on his own semen. I reached my arm around his neck and hugged tightly from behind, running my claws across his chest, occasionally flicking one of his nipples. It would be some time before the knot would loosen up, so I tried to make him comfortable and nuzzled up against his face. His tail wagged happily.

"What happened with Brutus and his lover after that?" Laurent asked like a kit who wasn't satisfied with the ending of his bedtime story.

I licked the tip of his ear, forcing it to flick instinctively. I did it again, eliciting the same reaction.

"Stop it!" Laurent giggled, gently trying to slap me from behind.

"Alright," I chuckled, "him and his lover remained together until Brutus died. After that, the lover helped take care of Brutus's widow until she died."

"Did she know?"

"Probably," I sighed, "don't worry about your vixen back home. You don't have to tell her and if she finds out, well, if she loves you, she'll understand the circumstances."

"I hope so."

"We can do it again sometime if you like. I enjoyed myself," I nudged the back of his neck with my snout. "Might not want to after the others get done with you though."

Laurent fidgeted, adjusting his hips so as to be more comfortable. He hummed lowly, as if in thought, seemingly ignoring the dire warning I just gave him about what the guards intended to do with him.

"General, I think I have a plan."