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Captain Danirus Hudson

Expedition One

Chapter One

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

2nd July, 2019

All Rights Reserved.

Captain Danirus unconscious form was lashed to a large branch by the ankles and paws, before being carried down the mountain on a secretive track only the captors knew.

As he lay unconscious, his mind began recalling memories...

*

Being a Whitetail Anthromorph was hard - there weren't many of, well, any Anthromoph's! He had studied extra hard at school, then University, where he'd finally earned his Doctorate in Archaeology.

He was beyond pleased, when the leading University in London accepted him as an Associate Professor. He was loved by his students, mostly, because of his easy going manner, his infectious laughter and his unique way of presenting his lectures.

He wasn't some stuck up, shrivelled up has-been, like many of the Professors and Associates, especially those in the Archaeology department! They had looked down at this youngster with apathy at best, or outright derision and disgust. They were shocked and horrified, that their 'Esteemed Halls' were - quietly whispered - polluted by his presence. For over five hundred years, humans had ruled this domain - and only in the last twenty years - had Anthromorph's made their way in.

His colleagues and associates laughed at him, when he presented his paper on a missing tribe of Anthropomorphic Wolves. No-one had seen, or bothered, to go look for them in over a century. They were believed to have been exterminated - their culture, language and ways buried and forgotten.

Resolutely, he had stood his ground at the podium, in the lecture hall, speaking with eloquence and conviction, that he believed this was not the case. He was laughed at, insulted, ridiculed and almost shouted down. Yet he retained his composure and self control. He knew in his heart, much of it was their natural bigotry towards him and his kind.

At last, he took an extended leave of absence from the University - not that any of the staff would miss him. He had made his own way, funding his expedition from his inheritance.

For over a month, he'd been living rough in the jungle. Bugs drove him mad during the day, as he was constantly swatting at them. There were all kinds of animals he'd never imagined inhabiting the jungles depths. Leeches craved his blood and in his mind, he knew there were predators - predators who would turn a foolish young stag into a lovely hot lunch...

He was adamant in his convictions, All his research and study during his off hours had narrowed the scope to a fairly inhospitable patch of land, that was still nearly twenty miles in diameter.

After a month of teasing hints and setbacks, he felt he was on the very edge of a major discovery. He could almost feel it, feel that...

*

Feel...

*

Feeling come back to him, as a agonising pain that lanced from his head, as he moaned in agony, then instinctively, he tried to reach back. He found his paws and ankles bound, as he felt himself being carried. Nausea gripped his entrails, as the pain flashed across his mind again.

"Mmmph!" He gurgled, finding himself muzzled as well.

Some sort of thin, but strong vines bound his muzzle shut. He blinked, groggily trying to focus his eyes, as they watered from the suspected concussion he must have. Again pain ripped through him, making him flinch and whimper in fear and sickening agony.

He was carried into their township - assorted Wolves of all sizes watched - some curious, some angry and some - with distinctly predator gazes that made him whimper again.

Control your fear! He commanded his mind.

It ignored him...

Struggling futilely against the bindings, he moaned and whimpered piteously, before he was brought to the central square and unceremoniously dumped on his back, He felt the air crushed from his lungs, as the log he was strapped too crashed down on top of him.

Wolves howled in unison, whether it was laughter, hunger or something unrelated, he had no idea. His paws were cut free, then his ankles as he felt a tight leather rope slung around his throat and pulled tight.

"Urk!" He gasped, before someone kicked him in the back of the legs and he dropped to his knees.

An ornately dressed wolf, seven feet if he was an inch, dressed in an ornate headdress of feathers beads and metal, slowly descended the stone stairs, carrying a staff in his left paw.

"Chieftain - " His mind filled in for him.

_Thanks, I'd never have guessed -_He retorted mentally.

Keeping his head downcast, he swallowed once and tried not to quiver. His life was in their paws, he knew it. Should he speak, should he stay silent? Should he...

With a startled squeal, he felt strong furred fingers grip his chin and pull his head up, making the knot at the back of his head throb intolerably. He found his green eyes locked on the male wolf, who stared down at him with a look of...something...

Was it a predator looking at prey? Was it amusement? Was it some emotion he couldn't think of? Danirus had no answers. All he could do was stare wide-eyed like a fawn, looking out the top of his eyes. His ears splayed out sideways in what he prayed would be seen as a submissive gesture.

Some guttural words were voiced by the chieftain, who grinned at Danirus, revealing long, yellowed fangs.

"I'm dead..." Danirus's mind moaned.

"Please, your magnificence, I am but a humble creature, unworthy to bow before a creature of your stature! I beg forgiveness for trespassing on your sacred lands and -"

With a snarl, the wolf growled - this growl was able to be misunderstood. Shutting his muzzle, Danirus shivered.

Again, there were words - Danirus had _no_idea what they meant, before he squealed as his nape was gripped and a strong paw slid under his jaw and pulled it open.

"Urk!" Danirus squealed like a hind, before his bladder let go and a dark stain spread across his shorts.

He watched, wide eyed, as the Chieftain tore his loin cloth off, revealing a large, canid sheath that quivered, the furred scrotum beneath it heavy and ponderous. Slowly, the Wolf pointed at the deer, then at his sheath, before resting both paws on his hips.

He can't be serious... Danari's mind whirled, his ears flattening back and eyes widening to their fullest.

Again, that gesture, before the Chieftain gripped the stag's ears and cruelly pushed his muzzle forwards, so his leathery nose pressed hard against it.

He IS serious...

Not knowing what to do, Danirus swallowed as best he could, his aching jaw held fully open as he started exciting his salivary glands. Impatiently, the Wolf growled again, before gripping Danirus ears cruelly, making the stag whimper. Timidly he lapped at the firming sheath with his tongue, which seemed to meet with something that might have been laughter from the assembled wolf pack.

Without warning, about seven inches of wolf penis presented itself, the sheath snapping back and Danirus squealed, then tried to shake his head, but his ears felt like they'd get torn off his head.

"Nnnn..." Danirus gurgled, eyes watering in fright and pain.

With a grunt, then stag's muzzle got filled with the thickening wolf length, before his muzzle was pressed closed by iron like fingers and he felt a cold blade held to his throat. Whimpering, Danirus got the message and began suckling and licking the member that threatened to be shoved down his throat.

After a few moments, the Chieftain growled something, then relaxed his painful grip and gave a weak petting to the ears. Danirus shuddered, closing his eyes as his whole concentration was on orally pleasuring this wolf - he was certain his life depended on it.

For what felt like an eternity, Danirus did as he was commanded - tears squeezed from his eyes as he felt the sharp knife pricking the skin beneath his fur, before the chieftain began huffing - then Danirus squealed and gagged as jets of hot, sticky semen spurted down his throat and filled his muzzle until it began dribbling down his chin. He swallowed as fast as he could, his stomach roiling and churning at the unwanted salty gift.

Finally, he opened his eyes then they widened in fright - as he seen the large knot down at the base of the sheath. He knew, instinctively, there was no way he could have had _that_shoved into his muzzle...it was bad enough what he had managed to no gag on. With a grunt, the Wolf nodded and pet Danirus on the dead, before he stepped back and the knife was removed, before Danirus dropped to his knees and began retching violently.

His body convulsed, again and again, as he struggled to vomit, but nothing would come. Part of him loved the salty fluids that filled his stomach, deer did_love salt, after all... Part of him, wished he could throw up and purge his stomach, the sickening texture, the _taste, the...

He squealed as the leash, at least that's what his mind told him, was cruelly yanked and he staggered after the chieftain, who led him up the stairs, presumably, to his private quarters.

What would become of him? Danirus didn't know...

To Be Continued...