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The night air was cold, a sudden chill descending from the mountains on the city to freeze the unwary. Even the birds and animals, normally fairly active around the forest, seemed to have decided to pack up and spend the night somewhere warm.

Not us though. No, we were nowhere near as sensible, traipsing through a wood on the edge of the city in the freezing weather. I needed a drink so bad, or better yet, a fire.

"Not much further."

That was Gavin, the leader of our merry band. A big burly bear, with a musclegut and plenty of padding. He didn't need the fire, he took his own insulation with him damn him.

"How are you going with the shovel there Ronnie?"

And that was Cal, a lean and vicious tiger with a grin like the mouths of hell. Appropriate, from what I had seen of him. This was one mean cat. He never spoke to me without a sneer, and I could understand it. In a short time, I had become Gavin's favourite, his protégé and even more his bedmate, with potentially bad consequences for Cal. I figured he probably didn't need any reasons to hate me, I was already everything he detested in one easy package, but the wedge I was driving between him and the gang leader added plenty of spice to his malice.

Fuck, if only he knew.

"I'm doing fine, but fuck it's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out here. Why did we have to come right now again?"

"Now now Ronnie, a nice pleasant walk in the country on a beautiful crisp night like this? Who could ask for more? You should count it as one of life's great blessings my beautiful corgi boy. After all, 'one touch of nature makes the whole world kin'"

"Hehe I know that one. Measure for Measure?"

And that was the bull, slow, stolid, dependable Vince. Muscle, 100% pure beef, and no additives like a brain. He served his purpose though.

Cal gave that supercilious smirk again, casting 400 watts of pure contempt from those slitted feline eyes.

"No Beefy. Troilus and Cressida..."

"Well done Calvin. We will make you a cultured cat after all."

Cal grinned, and Vince glowered, and we all continued our walk through the underbrush. I was glad Gavin knew where we were going, there seemed to be precious few landmarks out here but he appeared sure of his path. Gavin was always sure of his path, in everything.

That was what made him the most successful drug baron in the city, and the most feared.

"Have you got a quote for us Ronnie?"

"I met a fool I'the forest; a motley fool."

That drew a laugh, a deep warm gravelly laugh from the bear. And a snort from the tiger, which I liked even more.

"As You Like It. Good choice Ronnie, though I am not sure I approve of your message. Am I a motley fool?"

"I still don't know why we have to do this tonight. Why not in the morning when we won't trip over every fucking branch and root on the way?"

"Because my dear little pup, there are no eyes to see us now except the occasional owl, and that is much better for what we need. And I need this taken care of tonight. And besides, what about that sky? How many stars, so beautiful; you don't see these in the city, all that light pollution. No way to see 'these blessed candles of the night' in all their true glory."

"Merchant of Venice!" piped up the bull.

"Hallelujiah, he got one. I might have misjudged you Vincent. Keep it up."

We continued on in silence for a little, every one of us seemingly wrapped in his own thoughts. For some reason, I was drawn back to the time I first met Gavin. I was in a bar, his favourite, and the big bear was holding court in his usual style, a whisky in one meaty paw and using the other to emphasise points from his monologue with stabbing thrusts. His audience looked on enraptured, their eyes blazing hungrily unable to conceal their desire for what the bear could bring them. I played it cool, sure in my allure. It had worked a treat.

A couple of hours later, while I nursed a soda, I felt the nuclear fire of his gaze on me, my fur prickling at the sensation. I gave a slight smile, my tail flicking nonchalantly, and sure enough I heard the sound of a chair being moved aside and felt a presence beside me.

"A soda! Quite a blameless drink, for a young pup like you."

The bait was out, the fish nibbling the hook.

"Maybe. Or maybe I just don't like strong drink...after all, 'it provokes the desire but takes away the performance'...and I like to perform."

His laugh was genuine, and warm, and I had smiled, feeling the sudden surge of potential success overriding the fears. I knew I could have him.

"And what would a young pup like you know about strong drink...or lechery for that matter. Though at least you know your Shakespeare...so you aren't a complete loss, unless of course that's the only one you know."

"Buy me another and you can find out on all three counts...drink, lechery and Shakespeare."

The smiling bear had settled in next to me, and the hours passed without either of us noticing. It was the first inclination I had that I could face the age old problem here, the one I had been warned about in every briefing and every lesson.

The trouble with being undercover is that it requires an assumption of character so complete to ensure survival. Yet not many can assume a character as completely as is required to fool the people they are with 24/7 without becoming that character on some spiritual level. Bonds form, lives join, and suddenly the line between the character and the individual blur. That is one reason why we train you so hard, why we never let an assignment go on too long, and why we spend so long on debrief. Losing your character, your legend, is like shedding a soul, and it isn't achieved without great suffering, but it has to be done.

Thank you Senior Sergeant...that will be all...

I had tried remembering that introduction to undercover work speech when I first got Gavin to take me to bed. I was playing the role well, Ronnie Alban, age 17, cute little pup from a broken home without a dad, toying with the underworld and getting hooked. Not because of the money, or the excitement, but because of the one need that couldn't be satisfied; a daddy, to hold me and be proud of me. And, when the time came, one to fuck this naïve but willing bottom pup hard and thoroughly.

From the briefings I knew this was the foolproof way in. It was why I had been chosen for this assignment, a slight undersized gay corgi cross who could pass for 17. I would take one for the team, right up the ass.

Except; I had not been prepared for how much I had liked it. Or how much I had liked him. I really didn't have a dad, or at least not now, my memories full of a drunken corgi who liked to swill beer in front of the TV in his boxers while sneering at my taste in books and music. And my taste in friends. Fast with his fists and slow with his brain, when he found me in bed with my stud colt jock from school he went ballistic and nearly killed Jamie before he ran out of puff. GBH, ABH, with his record and priors he was going away for a while. He never wanted to see me, even when he got day release.

When I joined the force, it was an uphill struggle to get them to trust me because of my dad. I had shown my wares though, earning a sterling reputation before volunteering for the toughest gig in the book to prove I was as much a man as anyone. Every day, in every way, I felt like I was leaving him and his contempt behind.

Until this assignment, until Gavin, until he took me to bed, a young and inexperienced pup, part protégé, part son. And we made love like no one had ever done to me before.

I'd always been a total bottom slut, that much I knew about myself. What I didn't know was how much a bid daddy bear like him could turn me on, being just rough and strong enough to make me a little scared, and just warm and gentle enough to calm those fears in an instant. He had undressed me, then made me stand in the middle of the room, just stand while he circled me, touching everywhere while I hardened like a steel bar, and then he took me into his arms and just lifted me off the ground and I melted.

When he lay me on the bed I moaned, and he delved between my legs, suckling my ferociously hard cock before nuzzling under my balls, lapping out my ass and delving into my tunnel while I cried out and begged. Then he mounted me slow, an inch every minute, waiting and rocking slowly before burying the next thick piece of bearcock, then waiting and kissing till I begged for more. And then he fucked me every way imaginable for hours.

THen he stood on the floor while I lay back on the bed, the position giving him perfect control and admirable leverage to test out the depths of my ass once I had accustomed myself to 8 inches of thick bearshaft. He had slowly upped the ante, first easing in again like a lover, then raising my legs, until finally he pulled me almost upside down and pounded into my tailhole, big musclegut slapping into my legs while he fucked.

Then he threw me like a rag doll onto all fours, climbed on the bed and banged me from behind while I whined like a bitch in heat, one meaty paw wrapped around my cock and knot drawing spurt after spurt of cum before rounding into another wild humping fuck and sending me over the edge again.

We lay, I thought exhausted, my big bear daddy wrapped around me, spooning my small body from behind, my ass leaking a stream of thick bear seed onto the blankets, with my tailhole feeling that pleasantly tingly painful numbness that comes from a really hard wild session, and I prepared to fall asleep, but not with this bear. His cock hardened against me, and he took me again, this time slow and sensual from behind, just as we lay there. This time was all for me, every thrust and stroke, and I cried out again and again as his paws found every erotic zone I had and some I never knew while he kept up a steady gentle rocking thrust into my ass.

Then he had held me, warm and tight against him, our bodies radiating heat and scent like fallout, and kissed my ears while he picked up a book from the bedside table. It was Henry V, and my bear daddy read to me, his newly adopted son, his sonorous voice warming my heart as I heard the passioned cry to arms, and the speech that was always my favourite from Shakespeare.

We happy few, we band of brothers...it was what I had craved and feared all my life. So now I did the most solitary of jobs, dedicated to betrayal and deception. So much for the fantasy.

My own dad had once read me Wind in the Willows, holding me in bed to get me to sleep, but it was a long time ago and in another world for me. One before I became such a crashing disappointment, and his addiction to the bottle became his sole defining feature of note.

I could still picture that last loving fuck from our first time, the way Gavin looked at me all the time he was inside me, the tenderness. It unhinged my brain, and the hinge had never been totally repaired. Before my deployment I knew him as a monster, with a penchant for fucking underage guys, a mania for Shakespeare, and an ability to kill on a whim. And yet, those eyes told a different story when we fucked, or at least added a substantial footnote to the briefing.

Every time since had been the same, wild, hot dominant but also caring, and I saw his eyes change too, into something approaching deep affection.

Don't you hate it when your target makes love just like you craved all your life? Maybe they need to add that one to the classes. Like to see Senior Sergeant Tate deliver that speech.

"Here we are."

We had come into a small clearing finally, nothing really to distinguish it from any other in the forest. I could hear possums scurrying in the branches, and make out the occasional beady eye, but nothing much of note. The ground seemed normal, grassy and clear with occasional daffodils marking the ambiguous days of early spring. Otherwise, I had no idea what we could be here for.

"Righto Ronnie, you're up."

A slight query entered my mind then. This did not make a lot of sense, and I needed information. This could be part of a network of safe drops or stashes, the gang had been known to use them to store big shipments of cocaine after import, allegedly by ship. If this was a major waypoint, it could be the link to their main suppliers and importers we were looking for. I needed to play for time, and test the waters. We were close to breaking the operation open, and swooping on all of them but not just yet. Soon.

"Papa bear, what am I looking for?"

I loved using my special name for him sometimes, mainly because it made Cal angry. Like now; the cat was scowling up a storm.

"Don't you trust me pup?"

"It's not about trust...I just need to know what I'm doing. Am I burying or digging up? Is it fragile, small, large? And where exactly am I digging?"

Before he could answer, an insistent buzzing made itself apparent, that annoying mechanical noise that meant mobile phone. We all looked at eachother for a moment before Cal gave a sheepish grin and fished the phone from his pocket, walking away from us a little before answering.

"Hello?"

While we waited, he listened, nodding a couple of times as if in response but making no sound, until a final curt "understood!" and he closed the cover on his phone.

"Gav, we have a problem. The Chinese are trying to mount a raid on the warehouse again. Looks like your message didn't get through. They are aiming to hit it tonight, we believe, about 2 am. I need to go and get onto Deng before this gets out of hand."

"Agreed. Go Cal, and get him to see sense. Otherwise his nephew will wake up without balls one morning, and I don't think he wants that. Go on, we have things covered here"

"Can I take Vince? I think we will need him."

"No, I want him here just in case."

"But..."

"No buts Calvin. You have your orders. Oh, by the way, have you got a quote for us before you go?"

The cat fixed me with a stare, triumphant and amused, and surprisingly angry.

"How about...'If we meet again, why we shall smile. If not, then this parting was well made.'"

"Julius Caesar! Excellent Calvin, most appropriate. Off you go now, and don't hold back with Deng. He needs the lesson."

The tiger gave me a half mocking salute, turned and ran through the trees, his swaying tail soon lost in the darkness of the night. I watched him go, my brain churning at a rate of knots.

Why that quote? Why?

Brutus and Cassius before the battle of Philippi...where Brutus died in battle. He saw his ghost the night before, and knew he was to die...

"Papa Bear...the digging...how do you know where?"

"Anywhere here will do."

"But, what are we digging up?"

"Not digging up, so much as burying, pup."

My fur was all up now, standing like my cock did before him of a night. I saw the look in his eyes, and the love was still there, but something else too. Regret, pain, loss.

"' Though those that are betray'd do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe'"

His paw reached for his side, and I heard Vince moving behind me, the unmistakable clack, clack of a shotgun being cocked. The eyes told me all I needed to know, even without the quote.

My voice was strangely calm, in spite of everything. He may know me as many things, but a coward wouldn't be one of them.

"I don't know that one Papa Bear."

"No pup, I haven't yet had the chance to read you Cymbeline. A pity...it is one of my favourites."

"Papa Bear..."

"Save it Taylor. Don't say anything more; it would only be 'a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing!"

"Hey! Macbeth!."

"Vincent, if you have no more sense than God gave a donut, then don't speak. Not when I am showing my one time beautiful pup that he is to die, and definitely not to use the name of the play you are NEVER...FUCKING...SUPPOSED....TO...USE.... YOU... STUPID SIDE OF BEEF!"

The bear's words started out soft, like a sigh, but grew in power until he was screaming loud enough to shake the branches, spittle forming at his mouth and flying about the clearing as he raged at the unfortunate bull. I didn't see Vince's reaction, but it must have been good. I was too busy taking in the sound of my real name, coming from Gavin's lips.

I am Ronnie Alban, 17, lost alone frightened but willing. I am detective constable Taylor Whiteside, 25, attached to B division special group narcotics....I am....I am.....I am dead meat on a hook, either way...

"Papa Bear, what are you talking...."

"Please, don't. For the sake of what we once had, don't. Don't call me that, constable. Do I need to quote your badge number before you admit it? You are blown, shot, done. Made, hopelessly. And now it is time for some rapid house cleaning."

The paw was out now, holding a very efficient looking 38 special, the muzzle glinting in the moonlight. I could almost make out the individual cartridges in the revolver; I recognised the gun, a Smith and Wesson detective special. I had to clamp down on the need to laugh at the irony. My sense of humour was one of my downfalls.

"Ohhhh Taylor. I am sorry, really. At least, for the sake of Ronnie. I still think of you as Ronnie, though to me Ronnie is already dead, my beautiful pup, lost and alone. You killed him, Taylor. You killed him when you entered my life with your made up legend and took my heart. Did you think at all of me when we fucked, pup? Were you thinking of me in prison, when I filled you with seed? Were you imagining your medal and your fucking promotion when I sucked you off like the beautiful pup I always wanted and you cried my name? Did you? DID YOU!!"

I swallowed, hard, adrenaline cutting in and making my mouth taste harsh and metallic. There was only a slender hope, and I had to keep him talking.

"No Gavin. I am not that good a faker. What you saw was real. I really did love you Papa Bear."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!!"

His eyes bulged, and his finger tightened on the trigger. I needed to risk it all, even this, if I was to get through to him, but it might end at any moment.

"I love you. The first time you made love to me, I loved you. I never had that, not with anyone. My dad, my real dad, is a drunk and a violent bastard, who beat the shit out of me and nearly killed my boyfriend when I was in school. I never felt safe and whole after that, until you. I know you don't believe me, but it is the truth."

His eyes misted then, and his grip loosened for a moment, but it returned, hard and cold. I sighed a little inside.

"Nice sob story kid. Or should I say detective. Tell me, how old are you really?"

"Twenty five."

"I should have known. No seventeen year old can fuck like you."

"No seventeen year old can love like I do, when I find the Papa Bear I always needed."

He couldn't look at me for a moment, turning his head to the side but looking out his left eye, as if trying not to see. The gun dropped, and I relaxed, and was about to hold out my arms in supplication when he brought it up again, aimed at my chest, and the aim did not waver. Then his thumb moved to cock the revolver.

Click Clack

"Dig, like a good pup. Dig well, and I will make it fast, and clean. Don't, and I will let Vince take his time, and Vince likes nothing more than a nice slow execution. Don't you Vince?"

"Hehe course. Maybe I can start by 'unseaming him from the nave to the chops'."

"Miracles do occur, my bull got a quote right. Though I'm not sure we want too many from the Scottish Play tonight, do we Taylor? Now...if you want to avoid that, dig."

Metal scraped on earth, the sound harsh in the still night air of the clearing. I was secretly relieved, as much as I could be. Time. I needed time.

I took it as slow as I could, while Vince and Gavin traded quotes, the hole getting deeper and wider. I wasn't a big guy, that was part of my attraction to the bear, and how I was able to play the youngster so easily. That had it's disadvantages now though; the grave didn't have to be that big.

"That's enough Taylor."

I knelt, hope gone, against the hole, while the bull and the bear faced me together, the muzzles of their guns pointing at me. Judgement was coming, and it could not be far off.

"I have no reason to lie now Gavin, none at all, so you need to believe me. What I said about you and me...I meant it. And what I said about my dad...it was true. His name is Graeme Whiteside, and he is in St Albert's for GBH. I know I can't ask, but I'm going to anyway. Please, whatever contacts you have, please let him know I'm gone. And...and tell him I forgive him."

I closed my eyes then, waiting for the whipcrack and the thud, but it didn't come right away. I opened my eyes cautiously, seeing Gavin with his gun lowered.

"I will lad. Taylor...you were my son. I loved you..."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as me."

"Papa Bear...can you do the speech from Henry V one last time?"

He nodded his head sadly, while the bull just looked on stolidly, and at last he intoned in that deep gruff voice, the one I remembered as I lay against him, snuggled and satisfied, for the first time six months ago. It seemed a decade or more in reality.

If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires. But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive.

As the verses rolled on, I became aware of something out of the corner of my eye. A little dot of red, bright and moving like a willow the wisp against the forest wall. It moved quickly, crossing the grass, then up the left leg of the bull to somewhere near his chest. I tried not to look at it, concentrating on the voice, while my breathing quickened and my pulse sang.

Once more into the breach...

The loud crack filled the clearing, making some unsuspecting birds suddenly take off from their lofty perch and flutter amongst the trees. A hole appeared in the bull's chest near his right shoulder, followed by a gout of blood. Vince fell, bellowing in shock and pain, the shotgun flying to the side out of his useless grasp.

The bear appeared in shock, his eyes wide as another red dot appeared, this time centred on his chest. The revolver rested by his side, and he stared at me as lights came on blinding us both.

"Drop the weapon! Put your hands in the air! Now!"

Figures moved in the darkness, screaming the same command over and over as the approached.

I saw Gavin looking at me, his face a picture of indecision. His arm twitched, and I saw him fighting the impulse to raise and fire, his eyes on mine, so full of pain and hate and love.

"Please Papa Bear...don't."

He turned his head again, looking at me out of the corner of his left eye like he had, and I thought he would try, but instead he gave a sort of mental shrug, dropping the revolver to the grass just as the armed response officers reached him, pulling his arms roughly behind his back and cuffing him while pressing the muzzles of their rifles against his neck. He could still raise his eyes though, and he looked at me, eyes boring into my brain while they restrained him ready to take him away. Others had reached the screaming bull, cuffing him in spite of his injuries as he bled onto the grass.

"Well, looks like you won after all pup. Any last quotes?"

"Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent undr't"

He winced, but still smiled, the charismatic smile I would always remember.

"I told you no more Macbeth tonight."

He saw my eyes widen reflexively.

"Well, there really isn't any worse luck that can come to me tonight is there. I just hope the same can't be said for you Taylor."

And then I was in the arms of the special group while they bundled him away towards the spot where a helicopter was hovering waiting to land, its rotors making the trees sway like grass in the artificial breeze. I looked up at the chopper, and the starts beyond.

The blessed candles of the night...I would live to see them again after all.

And then I cried.

*****

"Did you get Calvin Gutowski?"

"No, he evaded the net. We were a little late to the party, and it was pure luck we had enough time to get to you before it was too late."

"Yeah, I should have twigged earlier, though I wouldn't have been able to get a message away without drawing attention. How did you know?"

"The intel guys had been honing in on some of their practices for a while, and one of them was using the edge of the national park forest for executions and body dumping. Sorry we couldn't warn you beforehand, but they didn't even tell me so I couldn't tell you. When comms group picked up your signal heading there, the Chief Inspector got his knickers in a twist and decided to call in the cavalry. As usual, I was the last to know. You know the rest...just as well he is a paranoid bastard."

"He survived this job, he needs to be. Fuck, I need to be more paranoid."

"You did good pup...with what you have already given us, we can put Gavin Reynolds away for a long time.Your testimony will seal the deal for all of them."

"How...how is Vincent?"

"Touch and go. Still, no great loss either way. He is a pretty violent type, more than enough killings to his credit. We will see if he turns, or takes it all himself."

I nodded, too emotionally wrecked for much else. I couldn't see Vince turning, not the bull. Loyal, gentle, devoted. I saw the other side too, and I doubted he would betray Gavin, or anyone else.

My handler gave me an appraising look, his muzzle not unkind. He was a good horse, Declan, and he always looked out for me. I could tell he was worried sick, and trying not to show it. He went to stroke my ears, but instead thought better of it and touched the spot below my armpit.

"Just as well we did this, even though you protested."

A grunt was all I could manage. I had not wanted the tracker implanted when I started, but it had proven its worth. Now I wanted it out, and soonish. Like me...out. Enough. But that was a conversation for tomorrow.

"Anyway mate, get some sleep. The full debrief will commence tomorrow morning at oh eight hundred sharp, and we need you bright eyed and bushy tailed for that. The board will want to grill you, but it's all routine."

The thought of grilling triggered the next thought though, one I couldn't avoid.

"Declan, thanks for everything, but there is one thing I still need to talk to you about. How...how did they make me? Any ideas yet?"

The horse's eyes bunched up, and his muzzle drooped. I knew it wasn't a popular topic, but I needed to vocalise. It had almost got me killed.

"We don't know Taylor. Obviously, it's a topic of discussion, and you wouldn't believe the stuff flying around, but its all hush hush. OPI and central investigations, all over it. I'm just a drone; they won't tell me until they are ready for the show trials."

"Thanks mate...it's good to know you are keeping an eye out for me anyway."

"No worries Taylor. And keep your head down, take it easy. You need to unwind, and the state is paying for the privilege. What could be better?"

I grinned at him and gave my handler a high five, before he headed out the door and I settled into my gilded cage. I was in a nice room, spacious and well appointed, in a city hotel a long way from the gang and my double life. A nice apartment, with kitchen and bar fridge full of booze, and cable and nice fluffy towels and bathrobes. In a small meeting room on the conference level tomorrow I would start my formal debrief, and for however long it went and however long it was needed, I was an inmate of this Medina and it's industrial carpet and furniture.

Trying to unwind, I watched some movies, and downed the spirits in the minibar. Unfortunately, there were only four small shot bottles, and that was nowhere near enough for the purpose. I turned the TV onto a pay per view site, searching desperately for porn, but all I could find was straight.

Damn their heterosexual hides. How discriminatory.

My mind was still racing, and I couldn't settle. I knew I couldn't sleep, and I knew I didn't want to be alone. Thankfully, in these classical four star city apartment hotels, they were used to catering to those needs.

I dressed casually, jacket, black jeans, shoes over my footpaws, and headed for the bar I had seen in the lobby. It looked busy, full of the usual corporate warriors who frequented these places, company reps and low level business development types on a meet and greet frenzy. The senior ones got better hotels, with better bars.

Heading for the bar, I caught sight of a guy in a leather booth by the corner. He looked a little more my type, a big beefy bull with a silver nosering and tastefully decorated horns. He had the look of someone up from the shop floor into sales, a veneer of civilization over natural tendencies for rougher amusement, about mid thirties and still ripped. And he was drinking VB beer; a sure sign.

Taking a chance, I headed to his booth, nodding to the bull while he returned the nod calmly, eyeing me up with an appraising glance that showed very little.

"Hey. I'm R...sorry, Taylor. Pleased to meet you."

"John, pleased to meet you too R...Taylor."

His grin was infectious, and I matched it with my own, seeing his eyes twinkle. I sized up the bull, taking in his bulging muscles and wide hips and chest, and the cutest tail tuft that swayed behind him. My loins began to tingle, knowing what they needed to take away the mood.

"What are you here for John?"

"Work, the usual. Just finishing up though, should be leaving town tomorrow. How about you?"

"Yeah, conference, the usual. I'm blowing off the sessions though to go tour the city. Not much worth listening too."

"I hear you, my work is like that sometimes. Still, at least they put us up in a nice hotel eh?"

"Yeah, nice. Well, at least the bar is stocked. How about we test its top shelf and see what we can find to load up our corporate Amex with."

The bull grinned, a big white toothy grin.

"Sounds like the best idea mate. Your choice first."

We bonded fast between the Johnnie Walker blue and the cognac, and soon the bull and I were as thick as thieves. It was getting late, and my loins were raging now. I had gone in for some discrete gropes and cuddles, feeling the bulk of the big daddy bull without drawing any negative response, just a shy grin a couple of times and a wink. I felt secure, but needed to know before popping the question.

"So...ah...don't know about you, but I don't think much of the porn in this place."

He gave a big half drunken snort, his nose ring flying up and down from the draft.

"Yeah, fucking hell. Give me some good twink action any day...oops! Sorry...I..."

"Hey, don't worry mate, I agree with you. Though, my preference is for twinks being pounded by big muscled daddy studs...like a bull, for example..."

His eyes locked on mine, and I detected a deep sensual interest under the look, the wheels moving inside. Subconsciously he spread his stance at the table a bit more, opening up his groin to view, and I could see a massive bulge in his pants that hinted at a night of just the kind of fun I was looking for.

"Well...that sounds kind of good too...what do you say you come up to my room and we see if we can make up for the lack of decent porn ourselves?"

I counted every second it took the lift to arrive with three heartbeats of my own.

We reached his apartment, the bull sliding the security card into the lock with a reassuring bleep followed by the sound of a lock opening. We only made it as far as the entrance hall before he was on me, big bulk holding my lithe frame against the wall, his groin pressed against me. I whimpered shamelessly as he reached for my junk, one big paw wrapping round my hardening doggy cock through my jeans and groping without any finesse and a lot of lust.

He practically tore my clothes off, throwing my jacket to the floor and shredding my t-shirt in eagerness while I laughed and moaned at his ferocious foreplay. He knelt in front of me, wrenching open my jeans and pulling them to my footpaws in one unceremonious motion before his muzzle opened and he engulfed my cock to the hilt, my spreading knot easily accommodated in his broad muzz.

"Ohhhhh fuck yes!"

It felt so good, so warm and inviting, and his tongue knew just how to pleasure, wrapped around my shaft and licking the tip while his lips bobbed on my knot. Then I felt his fingers roughly part my cleft and two digits suddenly spread my pucker while I yelped. He rumbled deep in his chest, the vibrations stimulating my cock further while he drove his thick digits in to the hilt, drawing more yelps and cries until they hit paydirt, both thick tips slapping into my little doggy prostate and grinding against my sensitive nub while he suctioned my cock sloppily.

"Ungh...yeah...oh....yeah....fuck....yes...yes....yes......wait...I'm...I'm..."

I wanted it to go on, so much, but I wanted this first cum too, and I held his horns and used them to pull my new bull daddy onto my cock harder and rode him like a rodeo bull until I exploded in his muzzle, seeing stars as the wild tide of orgasm filled me and I filled his muzzle with doggy cum until it became almost painful he was sucking so hard.

I pushed him off me, not gently, and he looked up at me with that same wicked sexy grin and look of lust in his eyes. Bulging arms gripped me and he hauled me bodily to the bed, throwing me down and parting the small mountain of carefully placed pillows and cushions as well as the complimentary mints.

"Time for your daddy bull to have some fun now mate."

I lay back and wagged my tail in rapt anticipation as I watched him strip. He was everything I had hoped for, not your usual corporate expense account warrior at all. Under the clothes loomed a muscled bull god, his fur gleaming with sweat, muscles bunching and relaxing. I drank him in while he posed shyly, a warm smile on me as he flexed and I enjoyed the show. His shoulders were broad, chest loaded with muscle and tapering to a still broad waist and powerful hips then flaring out to bulging thighs.

His musculature was only part of the package though. He had the most amazing tattooing, black on his brown fur, a tribal pattern down one arm, across his hips and down his thigh. I could see it on his sheath too, the thought of this stud enduring the exquisitely painful experience of tattooing there with stolid indifference making me almost cum on the spot. His tail still swayed behind, that cute brown tuft like a pendulum drawing my eyes momentarily before I looked at a different pendulum altogether; a massive thick bullcock swaying in the air as it filled with blood.

"Ready for this puppy?"

"Ahh...yeah...do you have any...I mean..."

He grinned wide then.

"Sure. Just a moment."

I saw him reach for the bedside table, carefully opening it just a fraction to pull out a box of condoms (extra large bull) and a big bottle of lube.

"You do it for me pup...make me ready for you."

I needed no second orders, and as he walked to the bed, I reached out to take the rubbers and the lube, taking the thick mass of bull meat into my paws and rubbing longingly before I slid the condom down onto its thick mass. One squirt, two, then I just shrugged and unloaded half the bottle, reasoning the more the merrier really, and I coated that tower of masculine bull perfection in a thick layer of lube before cupping his heavy calf makers and squeezing gently.

He let out a loud bellow, deep from inside his chest, and fixed me with a wild stare before I felt myself taken, hard, fingers gripping my shoulders to hold me down as his muzzle devoured mine. My legs were spread wide, powerful bull paws throwing them over his shoulders with ease until I was bent double, paws to the ceiling and my pucker clenching in anticipation of the mother of all fuckings. Gavin was a daddy, but this guy was the daddy of all daddy's, as well as having a good few inches and several pounds of muscle on the bear.

"Ready pup?"

"Ready as I'll aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhhhh!"

I felt him press against me, my pucker parting wide to embrace the thick head of his bullcock, but he didn't stop there, driving in half way in one thrust as I dug my claws into his shoulders hard, drawing blood on one side where the black tattooing decorated his frame. He appeared not to register pain though, or at least if he did it seemed to act as additional erotic stimulation, as he bellowed again and pulled back before driving in almost to the hilt, spreading my tunnel painfully wide and deep and drawing a strangled yelp from my muzzle. I was about to let out a pained yell when I felt his paw covering my muzzle, drowning my cries as he pulled back again and my eyes went wide as saucers looking into his, expecting a piledriving thrust that would tear me apart.

Instead, I saw his look turn tender, and he slid inside slowly, over long seconds as my heart beat its way almost out of my chest, until I was gripping his muscled ass with my claws and pulling him in deeper, body demanding those last inches now to make me feel complete. He took his time though, even when my claws dug in hard, slowly filling my guts until with a final heave he hilted inside me and I whimpered into his palm.

He waited, just waggling his hips to tease my bowels and make my tailhole itch, as I slowly relaxed against him, before he took his paw off my muzzle and kissed again.

"Am I your daddy bull pup?"

"Oh yes...please...fuck me.....hard..."

And he did, starting with a slow rocking motion and building into a wild hard fucking, pounding me into the bed and drilling deep into my ass as I held on, tongue lolling out and uttering a string of obscenities, my paws clamped on his butt and feeling every thrust.

My cock was hard and needy, trapped between my belly and the writhing abdomen of the bull beast, every thrust stroking it a little between out fur, until I couldn't hold on any longer, my senses on overdrive as I unloaded my second cum for the night between our bodies, coating our chests and bellies with a thick white layer of doggy cum. And still he hadn't cum himself.

"Please cum...please..."

"Not yet pup."

I felt him grip me tighter then, arms wrapping around and under me as he inched backwards on the bed. His hooves slid off onto the floor, and he gave a great heave and suddenly he was standing, with me cradled in his arms, cock still buried to the root inside my ass.

"Oh God...oh God..."

"Kiss me pup..."

I did, hard, my arms wrapped around his flanks and linking behind his back, my legs crossed in the small of his back. He put both big paws under my ass, fingers flexing into my butt, and then I felt his body sort of writhe as he bucked against me, his cock sliding into my ass while I moaned and cried into his kiss. I held on tight while he fucked, wild and strong, his tail swaying still and his tongue delving deep into my throat as his bullcock pistoned inside me, my daddy bull with eyes closed feeling it all.

Then a noise began, a deep rumbling moo, louder and louder and he suddenly held me tight against his body while I felt a deep warmth inside, the condom containing his cum but still letting me feel its heat deep inside my bowels.

Suddenly his eyes opened again, and he smirked at me eyes twinkling. I was panting hard, and expected him to be too, but he seemed to be panting only lightly, though sweat poured from his chest to coat us both and mix with the layer of cum still clinging to our fur.

"Not bad R...Taylor. Not bad. Good start."

"Oh fuck!"

He was true to his word, laying me down again on the bed while he knelt between my legs on the floor. My daddy bull pulled me onto my side then, letting one leg point out straight while he lifted the other over his shoulder, spreading me almost painfully wide. He pulled off the condom, carefully tying it off and placing it on a towel on the bed, before pulling out another one to cover his magnificent bull meat. I wished I could have it naked, but I could understand not wanting to take a risk on a casual fuck in a city hotel.

"Now time to ride the bull mate...see how long you last."

He slid inside,the new position making my ass feel tighter and the sensation was incredible, every inch of his cock rasping over the skin of my tunnel. Then he began to fuck, long slow sensual strokes, one arm crooked over my leg on his shoulder, the other resting on the bed, his paw wrapped around my cock and jacking in time to his thrusts.

I lost all sense of time or place, aware of more than one powerful orgasm spreading from my ass into my balls and out in a fountain of cum, all the while my new daddy bull keeping up his steady rhythm, filling me deep and taking possession of my body. I would miss him tomorrow; he could easily have taken possession of my soul too if he wanted, and he seemed to see that too, his eyes misting with something as we rutted.

Eventually he came for a second time, finally collapsing over me before pulling his still semi hard cock from my now aching ass, the second condom joining the first on the towel. He lay me down comfortably on the bed, a longing kiss on my forehead while we held, and he took the towel and placed it carefully by the bed. Some guys had strange hangups I guess. I had some deeply kinky ideas of what I would like to do with that condom.

"Don't know about you mate, but I'd like a drink."

I did like a nice post fuck whisky, and I was just unwound enough now to almost sleep. Maybe another shot would push me over the line.

"Me too. Make mine Johnny Walker if you have any left."

"Coming right up."

"So...what industry are you in John?"

"Ahh...waste management. Growing industry, trust me."

He poured the rich brown liquid into a tumbler, handing it to me as he lounged on the side of the bed. I threw it back while nonchalantly playing with his cock, still feeling so warm and heavy in my paws. The liquid burned its way beautifully into my body, filling me with warmth and comfort.

My daddy bull was looking down at me, his eyes warm and bright, when I began to feel the warmth spreading and engulfing me, sleep beginning to whisper loudly in my ear as my body felt heavy. The day, the sex, the alcohol were taking their toll. I grinned up at the bull, sleepily poking my tongue out before trying to apologise for flaking after sex, but my muzzle wouldn't work properly and all that came out was a sort of incoherent woof.

I tried to sit up a bit, but my muscles wouldn't work either, and I had a momentary flash of panic as I saw the bull still calmly watching me. My eyes locked with his, and I saw him give a flash of recognition before he nodded, once, slowly and stood up.

I saw him take the tumbler, the one he gave me the drink in, and add it to the condoms on the towel. He walked to the cupboard, taking out a bag and placing the towel and it's contents carefully inside while I tried unsuccessfully to get up. Then he turned back to me, his muzzle covered in a sad smile.

"I'm sorry Ronnie. Cal says hello by the way. He does thank you, you cleared out Gavin for him and now he can take control, but unfortunately not enough thanks to let you live. You know too much."

I tried to fight it, tried to pull myself off the bed, but the paralysis was spreading fast. My eyes bulged, and I tried to speak, but all that came out was a grunt.

"Ughh...unghhhh...."

My daddy bull nodded, crossing to the bedside table. This time he opened it wide, pulling out a revolver and a long dark metal cylinder. He stood, an incongruous sight, naked, massive, male, his cock still semi hard as he prepared for my end, screwing the silencer into place with practiced ease. It was only then, to my cost, that I noticed the gold necklace around his throat, a celtic design in white and rose gold hanging from its length. I knew one like that, one I remembered seeing only today. Declan...oh God, not Declan.

The bull made the final twist, testing the action as he walked towards me. I stared at his necklace, holding onto it as my one link to reality as my world went to hell.

"Yes...you recognised it too late. I should have taken it off, careless but no harm done. Dec asked me to give you one last night to speed you on your way. He isn't the jealous type, and he did like you. I think he secretly wished it was him fucking your brains out. I hope you enjoyed Ronnie. I did...and for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry."

As my body went slack, I fell against the bedhead, my neck unable to move. All I could see was a picture on the wall, the corporate art now my last vision of this life.

It was a poster for a version of Macbeth at the theatre next door to the hotel. There stood Macbeth, in all his tortured grandeur, and Lady Macbeth, and the trees of Burnham Wood. And on the poster, in stylized designs, were flowers and serpents, writhing and blooming against the red.

"Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent undr't"

With my last muscle control I managed a grim smile, the irony too much to resist even now. At least the coroner will be left to wonder why I died with a smile on my face.

"I would say nothing personal, strictly business and all that mate, but I'd be lying. This one is personal."

"This is for Vince...my brother."

Click Clack