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For Hundredand

Settling the Score

Putting a pup in his place doesn't just feel good. Sometimes, it just has to be done.

Greg had been lounging at home that evening, eating his dinner and watching the box. Sure, it might have been stereotypical for a single man, but when you're stuck in the suburbs, out of a job, and freshly divorced, there isn't usually a heck of a lot else to do. At least money wasn't an issue. UI and Severance Pay were generous enough, so he'd be in house and food for a while yet. And all in all, it wasn't a bad life. TV dinner, a cold brew out of the fridge, and a couple of late-night ladies for company. The show was some typical free-to-view breast-fest, the old sexy-eyes big-tit shake-your-tail flick. But hey, if it got results, why bother paying for more? Even better, Greg had the house completely to himself. At least until Jason got home.

Jason had been out again that night. He was nineteen now, and Greg wouldn't have minded Jason going out so much, if only his son knew his limit with drink. But the times he'd come back late, completely wasted and making a racket... that was really starting to get old.

And that was when Greg heard the crash outside.

He hoped against hope he was wrong, but that sounded for all the world like a car. Fucking hell. That had better be Jason, and he'd better not have done anything stupid.

Shutting off the TV with the remote, the chubby wolf hauled himself off the sofa with a low growl, steadying himself on his paws. He scratched himself as he walked from the TV room into the living room, flicking on light switches as he went. He tried peering out of the living room window, but the drive was in near total darkness. Heading into the hall, he opened the door and flicked on the porch light, his eyes widening in an instant.

"Fuck!" Out on the drive stood his pickup, with a second car rammed into its front. The bumper was crumpled; a repair job for sure. Great. So now he was without a truck, and he didn't even want to think how much it would cost to repair. Yes he had insurance, but that wouldn't cover the whole bill. Quite simply, it was money he didn't have. And then he saw the young wolf now clambering out of the car, staggering a little on the driveway, and that only made him angrier.

"Fuck, Jason," he whispered to the wolf, not wanting to wake the neighbours with his language. "Right, inside, now."

The younger wolf, his son Jason, traipsed into the house, and Greg slammed the door shut behind.

"Right, I'm not even gonna say anything this time. I've said it all before, you've heard it all before, and you still ignore me. That's bad enough. But now you've come in, in the dead of night... and you've been drinking too."

Jason scoffed, smelling the cheap lager in his dad's breath. "So what? I'm under the limit."

"Even if you are... so what? It's some sort of goal for you? To get as close as you can to that target number? No of course, it's not like there were any other consequences to you drinking tonight. Oh wait, there were. You just wrecked my car!"

"So? At least I'm driving places, getting out there and seeing folk. What do you do all day? Just sit around all day watching TV, pawing off to some drugged-up vixen."

"Right, listen. I'm down that Employment Office every week looking for a job. When are you gonna start searching? Instead of just wasting money on booze... or worse."

"Hey, I get down that gym most nights a week. Coach says I'm dead cert to qualify for State Wrestling Finals next month, and I'm a good bet for a medal. So I'm moving up. That's my future, that's what I'm aiming for: going pro, the big time. Something you never did."

At once, the anger swept over Greg. A low rumbling started in his chest, very quickly growing into a vicious snarl. Jason smirked. He'd got the older wolf riled up, and he wasn't going to stop there.

"Besides, when's the last time you won a bout? Months ago, I bet. Cos all you do now is sit around getting lazier, and fatter, and slower."

Greg stepped up to Jason, muzzle-to-muzzle with the younger wolf, snarling and slavering like he'd just spotted the world's juiciest deer. "So, you think you're better than me? Well how about we find out now? How about we settle this the proper way? Like fighters, in the ring, right now, wolf to wolf."

"Alright, you're on. Let's do this."

They marched through the house and into the kitchen, Greg taking some towels from the dryer. Then the bigger wolf lumbered out of the back door, flicking on the patio light. Out in the back yard stood a wrestling ring, which Greg had had since way back in his amateur days. When Jason was just starting out as a teenager, the two wolves would often have the odd grapple, for a bit of practice. Nowadays though it was just Jason who used it, whenever he brought back one of his gym buddies for a spar.

Greg tossed the towels onto the ropes. He laid his paws on the ring, resting them there for a moment, feeling the canvas under his pawpads and sighing heartily. Then, he hauled his hefty body up and under the ropes, clambering back to his paws with a grunt. It sure felt good, standing here in the ring once more. He stretched up high and growled with relief, the joints of his arms and knuckles cracking. In the opposite corner Jason was limbering up, jumping from side to side with short sharp breaths. He pulled his shirt over his ears, chucking it out of the ring, leaving him wearing nothing but his shorts. Growling himself as he felt the cool evening air against his fur, Jason stretched right out. His stomach was only slightly defined, but his chest and arms were strong.

The two wolves came to the centre, Greg in his tank top, Jason bare-chested. "Okay, the rules are simple. We fight until one of us gets pinned or forfeits, without any time limits or timeouts. Just a good old-fashioned slog."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go!"

Slowly, the two male wolves started circling, growling, their eyes locked. Jason was nimbler and quicker on his paws, darting side to side and looking for an opening. Greg didn't bounce, but rather sidestepped around the ring, meeting Jason head on, his eyes never leaving the younger lupine. Greg knew that Jason's posturing was all a bluff. How many youngsters had he seen try that, moving around the ring faster, thinking that alone was intimidating? Your preparation can be impressive, but your tackle needs to be exemplary too.

The great grey furred wolf drew nearer, growling louder, his paws raised and his claws outstretched. Jason could mess about all he wanted, but sooner or later he was going to have to move in and face those claws. His bright golden eyes narrowed to slits, fixing the younger wolf. Jason appeared to be backing into the ropes, drawing Greg in, but suddenly he launched forward, catching Greg mid-step and moving to take him down. He hesitated however, having misjudged the older heavier wolf's weight, and this gave Greg enough time to recover. From there the two wolves grappled a short while, body to powerful lupine body, neither of them finding any real opening to tackle the other. They snatched forward and pulled away just as quickly, fur bristling and lethal fang-filled jaws snapping. Faster and wilder they spun, their grabs becoming more and more erratic. They broke contact and immediately Greg swiped forward. But Jason ducked straight underneath, bobbing up and slamming his shoulder hard into Greg's gut.

"Ha! First hit to me!"

Only, Greg barely flinched. He did wheeze a little, his eyes widening, taken by surprise since he wasn't fully warmed up yet. But apart from that he stood his ground, absorbing the blow with his heavy belly. He shook off the attack, facing Jason once more. The younger wolf was bounding around the edges again, no doubt calculating how else he could take Greg down. They launched in a second time, Greg aiming for a high tackle and Jason fending him off easily enough, before they broke apart again. Okay, okay, his dad was strong, but he was holding up so far.

Greg started to step forward, and seeing his chance Jason again darted in, catching the heavier wolf off guard and moving to throw him. But he'd rushed in way too fast, throwing himself off balance in the process, and though the impact did make Greg spin around Jason lost his grip too and the wolves flew apart, landing on opposite corners of the mat. They both got back to their feet and straightaway tried tackling one another, but this time Greg got his shoulder in low, lifting Jason off his paws with surprisingly little effort and dumping him hard on his shoulders. Jason gave a sharp 'Oof!' as he hit the mat, screwing his eyes shut as a jolt of pain shot through his back. He did roll away just before his dad got to ground and pinned him, but that attack had certainly left him battered. He staggered to his paws, panting. That was much too close. It wasn't just a simple throw either. The bigger wolf had pummelled him into the ground. Oh God, his Dad was serious. The huge timber wolf was actually fighting hard.

The bigger lupine was now prowling in the centre of the ring, his neck and shoulder fur bristling, his hind claws scratching the canvas. Jason was dazed, but it was nothing he hadn't handled before. Greg attacked next and Jason blocked with his arms, catching Greg's paw awkwardly and deflecting everything to the side, and quickly seeing the opening Greg brought his free paw up in a fist and slammed it high into Jason's gut.

Jason barked, his eyes snapping open in shock as his stomach tensed agonisingly around the wolf's paw. With a snarl of satisfaction, Greg held Jason still and twisted his fist into his son's stomach muscles, grinding his knuckles deeper into that flesh, making the slimmer wolf cough and splutter as his whole body trembled.

"That's for my car."

Wait, now his dad was punching? In a tournament that would be illegal, and Jason certainly wasn't expecting his dad to resort to illegal moves. Still, who could he complain to? This was just a dirty backyard scrap, anything goes. But it also meant that Jason was in trouble, and he knew it. Grappling was one thing: his speed was an advantage there. But he could only fend off so many punches from the bigger wolf. Oh God, what had he got himself into? Maybe he'd gone too far. Still, he couldn't back off now, not this early in the fight anyway. He just had to finish this off quickly.

As soon as Greg let go, Jason took a deep gasp. He coughed once or twice, hawking then spitting over the ropes. That was a serious blow and no mistake, but he still had plenty of fight left in him. And so the wolves met in the centre once more, Jason ignoring the wincing in his stomach as best he could. Jason feinted to the side, and when Greg moved with him, the nimbler wolf darted in, landing some rapid uppercuts to the wolf's stomach. Jason had boxed before so his own punch was fairly strong, and most furs would have crumpled over from that onslaught by now. But after a few hits Greg tensed all the rolls of stomach muscle which sat underneath that gut, absorbing those blows effortlessly. Jason realised his attack was ineffectual and tried to step back, but Greg took his shoulders, lifting him high and driving his knee into Jason's groin with a sickening crunch. Straightaway Jason threw his muzzle back, letting out a shrill whimper, his muzzle quivering and his eyes watering. Once he was released, Jason stood clutching himself and swaying slightly. He had to take a few deep breaths before he could face Greg in the eyes.

"Come on, I'm giving you a chance here!"

From there, both wolves moved quickly around the ring, twisting and snaking around each other, Jason blocking and ducking away from Greg's paws and fists. Jason thought he was holding Greg off fairly well, but Greg was playing a longer game. Attack Jason just a little higher each time, get him to stretch up nice and high, exposing that bare stomach of his, and then - yes, right there! - Greg outfoxed him again, jabbing his elbow into Jason, and as Jason recoiled in shock Greg swung his head down, slamming a headbutt straight into those weakening stomach muscles. Jason's eyes bulged and he coughed sharply, flecks of drool flying from his open muzzle. He stumbled back, very quickly losing his footing and landing on his rear with a pained groan.

Hey, this was his dad. Sure his dad might want to rough him up a little, but surely he wouldn't beat him really hard?

The instant Jason was back on his paws Greg was attacking again, tackling him hard, and Jason barely had time to react before he felt the corner post slam into the small of his back. He let out a loud 'oof!' as he was impaled between the unyielding post and the even harder lupine. Straightaway Greg landed two, three, four crushing blows to his bare short-furred gut, and the younger wolf wheezed and wheezed on each impact. A wave of nausea swept over the wolf and he choked, then gagged, before leaning over the ropes to heave and vomit all down the side of the ring and onto the yard below. He choked once or twice, fighting for his breath, before pushing on the ropes with his arms shaking, and straightening himself up. Back on his paws, he wiped his muzzle clean with his arm. His muzzle hung agape, his tongue protruding and his breathing heavy, the fire and hunger to fight dimming rapidly in his eyes.

He had to stop, he had to stop. There was no way back into this fight. Head swimming, he stumbled to the ground with a weak moan. The pup wanted mercy, and Greg wasn't going to give it.

A meaty wolf paw gripped under Jason's muzzle, jerking him up off the ground, only for Jason to cry out loud as a solid knee slammed deep into his stomach, followed by another, then another. Jason cried out with each blow. His abs were weak, fatigued, and Greg drove his knee high and deep into the younger wolf. As Jason's eyes rolled back in their sockets Greg threw in some punches as well, catching the wolf from different angles and leaving every part of his stomach aching and bruised. Greg practically rolled around Jason's body, smacking and beating the pup's gut from every direction, revelling in the sound of Jason's dull groans. One heavy punch smacked into Jason's kidney, and the shock of that blow jarred Jason back into action. He pushed himself away, half-heartedly squaring back up to Greg. The two lupines drew in close once more, grappling and spinning in the ring. They broke apart and Jason rushed in for another tackle, only for Greg to drop to all fours and slip to the side before kicking backwards with a wicked clawed paw, hitting Jason square in the middle of his back and slamming him front first into the canvas. His vision blurred, and his nose fizzed, the cartilage of his nose having taken the full force of his impact with the floor. Thankfully though, it didn't feel dislocated. However his back stung wickedly, and he knew straightaway that his father's hind claws had drawn blood. Every movement of his back opened up those wounds, and he knew they would be a serious distraction from now on.

He clambered to all fours, only to feel two powerful paws reach around his waist, pulling him to his feet.

"Come on, pup," a gruff lupine voice said. "Fight like a wolf!"

Yes. That's what he had to do. This was it. Last throw of the dice. One last time Jason rushed in, arms outstretched and looking to tackle the bigger wolf, but for Greg it was now a simple matter of sidestepping Jason and swinging that meaty hind paw to collide with Jason's groin.

Jason gave a sharp bark, followed by a high-pitched yowl as he struggled to register the heavy paw embedded in his crotch. Grinning, Greg flexed his toes, knocking the wolf's tender nuts and drawing out a long agonised whine from the battered young wolf. Grinning, Greg drew his foot away, ready for Jason's next assault. But Jason was far beyond fighting now. He swayed on the spot, his chest heaving as he sucked air into his lungs. His eyes were swollen and bruised, and a trickle of blood ran from his nose. Greg offered him one last chance to forfeit, and the younger wolf shook his muzzle.

"Well, you had your chance."

As Greg stepped closer, Jason staggered forward and practically collapsed onto him, and so planting one paw flat on Jason's back to hold him still, he swung his other paw up, using all the upper-body strength he could muster to land a powerful uppercut right in the middle of Jason's stomach.

Jason stopped still in an instant, too anguished even to shudder. He gasped, a desperate hoarse sound, eyes opened wide and muzzle contorted with pain, paws clenching and unclenching, teeth bared at an enemy he could neither fight nor resist. A trickle of drool dropped from his open maw, and he clutched at the paw embedded in his abdomen, trying in vain to pull it away, trying to relieve at least some of the pain rippling through him.

With a gruff grunt, Greg wrenched his fist out of the younger wolf's stomach, watching with a satisfied smile as Jason slumped straight to the floor, lying curled up on his side, sprawled on the ground Both his paws clutched at his stomach as he felt it spasm, choking and gulping, fighting to draw in some air. His eyes were wide with shock, his tongue slopped out onto the mat, drool pouring freely from the corner of his maw. He tried to move, even to roll over onto his front, but his whole body had shut down. He heard the rustle of a towel dropping by his side, followed by the low growl of his father's voice.

"Clean yourself up, I'm off to bed. Dinner's in the microwave."

By Ziegenbock