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Chapter 1 On this morning, the Nones of October of the 803rd year since the founding of Rome, I achieved the greatest victory of my career thus far. Eighty hardened legionaries under my command stood against the barbarian forces over thrice our numbers. The foxes had the confidence to meet my Century out on the field in front of their fortress rather than hold their defenses. They fell right into my trap. Out here on the fringes of Britannia, on the north coast of the ‘Cornish’ peninsula, these simple rabble have yet to meet any of the forces of Rome, in war or in trade. They didn’t realize just how backwater their land truly was. If it wasn’t for the silver mine this tiny fiefdom’s hillfort sat upon, the area wouldn’t even be worth the attention of a single Century from Legio II Augusta. These foxes out here in the middle of nowhere, when they go to war, it’s disorganized chaos. No formations, no armor, not even chariots like the more civilized tribes further east in Britania. They fight simply; throw more numbers at the other side. That doesn’t work against the Legion, and I showed this barbarian chief just how pitiful his attempt would end up. I am Lucius Quintius Sabinus, eldest child of Marcus Quintius Sabinus. You’ve probably heard of my famous ancestor; yes, he went back to his farm after stepping down as Dictator. Back in those days, you could quit being leader of the Republic. Simpler times, before the civil wars, before Roman fought Roman. My family learned a critical lesson way back then: stay out of Patrician politics in the Senate, tend to our farmland, but always be ready to fight for the Legion against barbarians. This creed kept us safe during the turbulent times of civil war and ensured we remained respected even after other Patrician families fell. Cicero might have been right to try and save the Republic, but he ended up a skinned pelt hung on the Senate halls’ door. Keeping a low profile was simply the safer option. It was the more lucrative option, too, as my uncle likes to say. A lot of Senators ended up dead, a lot of prime land in Italia became available for the first time in generations. The Quintius clan made sure to get as much of the fertile Sabine hills as we could get. That land feeds the large number of cattle that in turn feed the hungry masses of Romes’ lupine population. This means there’s always a seat at a banquet in Rome open for a Quintius, mainly because we’re probably the ones that catered the feast to begin with. Now, I could have just coasted along and lived a privileged life of luxury. Instead, I’m here in this dark, filthy fort in this muddy land far from home. Why? Well, glory of course! There isn’t much glory to be had herding cattle. Coin, sure, but little glory. I wanted to experience the thrill of battle that my ancestor did, fighting for Rome. A few months into my 18th winter, as I considered the time-tested Cursus Honorum, the Course of Honors, track of positions and appointments for Patrician men, another opportunity appeared. In 796, Emperor Claudius announced a campaign to subjugate the unruly tribes of Britannia and avenge the overthrow of an allied tribal king. Of course, we didn’t truly care much about this dethroned barbarian king, it was just a wonderful casus bello for us to expand the Empire even further. Julius Caesar made the famous crossing to this rainy island almost a century prior and Claudius intended to go back with intent to stay. Conquest of a whole new land, an adventure like that of Caesars expedition into Gaul? This was the opportunity of a lifetime. So instead of fighting tooth and claw for the slim number of yearly promotions on the Cursus Honorum, I followed the family creed and joined the Legion. I made that decision 7 years ago, clawing my way up the ranks of Legio II Augusta from command of a single tent of my fellow soldiers to now holding command over a full century. My wolves made me proud today, defeating these barbarians. Now, hopefully, we’ll all be able to have a quiet winter, occupying and fortifying this rather primitive fortress. It took most of the remainder of the day to secure the keep and run down the dozen or so foxes that made a break for the forest. Sorting through the supply, prisoners and goods seized from the hillfort took hours. This tribe of foxes had brought most of their women and young into the fort before the men staged their ill-conceived resistance; this made our job of gathering slaves for tribute back to Rome rather simple. The peasant women would be released to tend to their farms along with any girls. The boys who pledge fealty to Rome, Emperor Claudius, General Vespasian and Legio II Augusta would be turned loose as well. I’m a kind wolf and I don’t see why I must make all these former enemies into slaves. Of the men who survived the battle, half we executed immediately, including the former ‘king’ of this fort. The obese fox cried the entire process, begging to be spared in exchange for all of his subjects. I instructed my wolves to go slow with the coward. The other half of the menfolk were shackled and to be sent to Londinium in the spring, I’d have them used as labor around the fort while we quartered here. The ‘nobles’ who took refuge in the keep were another dilemma altogether. This petty king apparently had taken dozens of wives and sired that number many times in kits; the keep was simply filled with ‘princes’ and ‘princesses’. None of them held any true value as a royal prisoner, nor did most seem to possess any useful skills. I couldn’t even dump most of these foxes off at some farming village, they’d simply be more mouths to feed for the peasants over winter. For now, I had them relegated to one of the unused towers of the fort. It was in a state of disrepair and unoccupied, however my wolves would need the more livable sections of the hillfort. We’d have to sort through these extra ‘nobles’ as the winter went on and figure out what to do with them on a case-by-case basis. By nightfall, my century was settling in for our first night in this new place. I sat with my officers in the ‘royal dining hall’. I occupied the largest, best constructed chair, probably intended to be the throne but a rather archaic thing by the standards of home in Italia. Adjusting my tail in the unpadded seat, I cleared my throat, “Well, my brothers, today couldn’t have gone more successfully. General Vespasian will be pleased we secured this silver mine. It’s probably the most valuable thing on this damn peninsula!” That elicited a chuckle from the men. I continued, “As for the actual fighting, you all lead your men with exceptional valor. Mars showed us his favor, and we did him proud. Praise Mars! Praise Iupiter!” “Praise Mars! Praise Iupiter!” “I want to personally congratulate all of you, and your wolves, on a successful campaign season and I look forward to another one come spring. To the Legion!” I raised my cup for a toast and the others followed. “To the Legion!” ~~~The following week was uneventful until the messenger arrived. We had been merely reinforcing weak points in the walls, adding palisades and earth works outside the walls. The lookout tower I had ordered constructed early on spotted the pair of riders long before they were visible from the keep. It was a standard messenger pair, sent with new orders regarding winter quartering from the General along with news from the rest of the Legion. The messengers saluted me, one a wolf the other a cheetah, probably from the province of Africa or maybe Cyrencia. I returned their salute and took the coded documents from them. Standard protocol for order dispatches while a legion is on campaign. I pulled out my cypher key, a metal rod with multiple sides, each engraved with lines of letters that would correspond to the false letters of the message. By turning the rod one rotation, I could convert the false letters into the true ones, thereby deciphering the messages. This took some time; I scribbled my translations in shorthand onto my own parchment. As I went, I nearly dropped my quill and spilled my ink pot halfway through in surprise. I wanted to howl for joy right there but I kept transcribing just to make sure what I was reading was correct. When done, I was certain: General Vespasian had gotten my message about the capture of the hillfort, was pleased, and was giving me a promotion. Three additional centuries and an equites cavalry unit would be assigned to me, sent within a week to spend the winter here and be ready to start the next season under my command immediately. Two more full centuries would join me in the spring, providing me a full Cohort. I had been promoted to a full Tribunus Cohortis, Cohort Tribune of Legion II Augusta. This news immediately forced a flurry of new work expanding a cleared area just outside the hillfort entrance for a large encampment as well as refurbishing the stables and repurpose every structure in the fort that we could make do without. I ordered some of the fox ‘princes’ be gathered up to help with the labor. I’d need every paw available to get this muddy pile of stone fit for occupation over the winter.~~~ Thraintar had barely registered the last several days. It had all been a blur. He remembered the battle, the wolves from across the water winning without much of a fight. His people were cut down like bales of hay used for practice. No, not his people. His father’s people. That arrogant bastard actually thought he could fight the wolves? He got all of them killed just to protect his silly ego. Every traveler from the east, every merchant from Gaul, they all said the same thing: don’t resist the wolves, their army is unbeatable. Their empire covers more lands than you could dream of. Thraintar tried to tell his father that fighting was suicide. He didn’t even acknowledge him, but his half-brothers did give him a beating. They did that pretty often, Thraintar thought. He wasn’t sure why they liked beating him so often. He wasn’t the youngest (there were dozens of younger siblings) and he wasn’t the most outspoken. Is it because they knew? No, how could they. It didn’t matter anyway, the majority of his older brothers were killed in the battle. Half-brothers. His father made a point of knocking up every vixen he could find and making her another of his ‘queens’. Thraintar’s vile father would need to be reminded which vixens where his own daughters far too often. The red-furred fox shuddered in disgust. Thraintar sat up from the sleeping mat he’d claimed in the Nobles Tower. That’s what the wolves had begun calling it. Nothing noble about this wreck. The roof had gaping holes in it, furniture was rotted and any cloth was moth eaten or mold infested. He was lucky to find a mat that was simply just threadbare. The irony is the wolves hadn’t even been at fault for the state of this tower, this was how his father had left it. The outsiders from across the sea had spent days trying to restore the fortress. Making it better. Thraintar didn’t understand why. The room was formerly a larder, now empty of stocks, centralized where the wolves could properly manage supplies for the winter. Across the room, Thraintar saw his sister’s cot empty. Kintra had kitchen duty this morning, probably still across the fort. He got up and dressed in his coat and boots then went for the window. It was quicker than having to pass through the mess of corridors and rooms occupied by the rest of the ‘family’. He’d rather set the rest of the tower on fire than consider those evil women and their offspring his family. Ever since his mother passed away last spring, his family was just his sister Kintra. Thraintar leapt from the ledge of the first floor window down to a small nook behind a covered well. Around the corner he heard voices speaking Latin, the tongue of the wolves. Thraintar only understood some of it, having picked up partial fluency from a trader who stayed one winter two years ago. The young fox had been straining his limited proficiency this last week to try and learn about what the wolves planned for them. “Round up some of the fox boys, we need more paws for labor” “Yes sir” Shit, Thraintar thought. Looks like they’ll have a use for him after all. He’d wondered when this building frenzy by the wolves would require more labor. Maybe he could use this as an opportunity to prove himself useful to these Romans? Thraintar thought quickly. A few days before the battle, the fort blacksmith had been making a large quantity of nails for trade purposes. Thraintar had been nagging him once again to give him more lessons that day, but he’d been rebuffed yet again. The few lessons he did get taught Thraintar that the old smith kept bulk items like the nails in a bucket in the back of the smithy, maybe the wolves hadn’t found it when searching the keep. If it was still there, turning it over might get him excused from hard labor. Thraintar slipped off to the blacksmith shack, not far from the Nobles Tower. Getting across the courtyard was tricky but with all the activity in the fortress no one paid much attention to one of the many foxes running about doing tasks they were ordered to do. Thraintar slipped into the smithy, which lay idle, and shut the door. The wolves deemed it unsuitable for use and instead had been using their portable forge equipment. The fox spent nearly ten minutes rummaging in the filthy back closet before he found the bucket. His cream-colored chin was covered in soot. With a groan, he heaved the bucket of nails out and began dragging it towards the door only for it to fly open as two wolves walked in mid conversation. “I know it’s primitive, but we need all the metalworking we can get, Atticus,” the tall black wolf in steel armor said. “I’ll make do. When we get the supply wagons from the 3rd and 4th centuries, I’d like to make an upgrade of this shack a pri- Oh, what’s this? A fox in the forge?” A brown and white pelted wolf with a grey tinged muzzle leered down at Thraintar. “Hold, Atticus. Fox, what are you doing here? Do you speak any Latin?” the black wolf said. Only after the well-dressed black wolf spoke did Thraintar realize what he had meant by ‘hold’. The brown and white wolf had his paw on his short sword, about to draw it. Thraintar tried to respond in broken Latin, “Yes, sir. Little Latin. I bring metal to you.” He said with a smile, trying to be friendly and non-threatening, presenting the bucket of nails to the wolves. The black wolf reached down, lifted the bucket lid and examined a paw full of nails. “Oh, Fortuna visits us, we need more of these. How’s the quality?”, he then handed a few to the older wolf. The black and white wolf examined the nails as if he was scrutinizing a gold coin. “Adequate craftsmanship. More than sufficient for our needs out here on the frontier, sir. If this fox made all this, I’d say he’d be quite helpful to us. I’ll take him and see what else he can do”. Thraintar swallowed. He hadn’t meant to imply he made all these nails. He did learn how to make nails, so maybe he could forge a few and show that as the extent of his knowledge? Making nails wasn’t impressive smithing work but it was an important basic step, and the Romans needed a lot of nails right now. The black wolf looked directly into Thraintars eyes, lupine blue meeting vulpine green as the officer took a moment to think. He turned to his subordinate, nodded, and left the smithy. Atticus the smith dropped the bucket of nails outside the smithy door and grabbed Thraintars shoulders. “Wood. Bellows. Tinder. We are lighting the forge.” Atticus ordered and Thraintar got to work. ~~~Everything had been going smoothly for my century since beginning the occupation. The news from the General had been wonderful. The first outriders of my two new centuries arrived this morning and the rest of the force would be at the fort by nightfall. Just in time, too, because the first snowfall of the season came down last night. Everything seemed to be coming together. Then we heard the scream. One of the fox women, a shrill scream let loose at the top of her lungs. I drew my blade and met the guards responding to the disturbance in front of the Nobles Tower. The solid oak doors to the old tower of the keep were flung open and a vixen woman stood half clothed carrying a dead body. The corpse was of a young fox girl, maybe 15 winters. Her clothes were torn to shreds and her throat cut open, blood still dripping out on the snow. From the rambling of the older vixen in her native tongue, the other officers and I gathered that this had been her daughter. She found her dead and violated in a room on the ‘princes’ side of the tower. She had accused one of the older remaining princes, Volenax, of the murder when a pair of foxes loyal to Volenax beat the old vixen. Her story explained her disheveled state and the condition of the body, so I was inclined to believe her. I ordered this Volenax and all the male foxes who witnessed the beating be brought out of the tower so I may interview them. This accused prince, Volenax, was an intimidating figure of a fox. If I was a vulpine, I’d consider him a threat. However, I’m a wolf, so I stood a head and shoulders over him still, but even I could be impressed with the smaller male. He was well groomed, fur colored primarily russet red with a cream chest, neck and chin like most other foxes here. His black paws and forearms looked almost like stockings. His eyes were a harsh yellow, like the sand of the wastes outside of Aegyptus. I could sense a venom from him like that of the cobras of that mystic land. Volenax of course refuted the accusation and instead placed the blame solely on his two followers who carried out the beating. He claimed they acted without his blessing and that they confessed to him that they had murdered the girl. The two younger foxes denied this. Volenax’s remaining followers sided with him. Of course, I didn’t believe the arrogant little bastard of a fox for a minute. I’m pretty sure he led the two minions in the act and simply wished to cast all blame upon them. Without evidence, however, I was left with just witness testimony. I had the two accused brothers put to death by crucifixion. The grieving mother was given her freedom. I made sure this compensation for the mother was clearly explained; all the foxes that remained in the Nobles Tower were still mine to do as I wished with. Whether they ended up executed, marched in chains back to Rome as slaves or left in peace as free peasants of the Empire was purely my discretion. I wanted the rest of the barbarians to remember that I’d be keeping tabs on them and it would affect the outcome of my decision.~~~ Thraintar wasn’t sure if he could sleep with the howling. And the screaming. The former was from all the new Roman soldiers that had arrived this evening. They were apparently celebrating the Tribune, some sort of honor for their new commanding officer. That had been the handsome black wolf Thraintar had met in the smithy the other day. The Tribune had apparently been happy enough with Thraintars work in the last couple of days even though Atticus kept reminding him how poor his work was. The brown and white wolf was a good teacher but a tough one so far. At least Thraintar was proving himself useful to Atticus and the Tribune. Especially seeing as how the black wolf had ordered two of his half-brothers executed this afternoon. That’s the source of the screaming. Apparently, this crucifixion thing is really painful because they’ve been screaming all night. Thraintar knew they deserved it though, those two assholes had always gone along with Volenax when he wanted to beat him for no reason. They most certainly would have gone along with him in raping and killing poor Kanna. Thraintar looked over at his sister. Her sleeping form was not affected by the noise outside. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do to Volenax if he’d done that to his baby sister, Kintra. He shook his head, ah, who was he kidding, he wasn’t ever going to be able to challenge Volenax. If it came down to a fight with his bigger, stronger half sibling, he’d just be beaten to a bloody mess again. Or killed now that the asshole has no father to answer to anymore. Volenax deserved that awful punishment outside more than any of the scum he was unfortunate to call ‘family’. There was a knock at the door, and it slammed open. A large golden feline in segmented armor grabbed Thraintars arm and growled something about needing more kitchen staff. Thraintar wasn’t sure he heard him correctly, he spoke Latin with a thick accent. The young fox had never seen a person like this soldier before. The cat stood even taller than the wolves and had to hunch his way through the hallways, let alone the doors. He had a bright gold colored pelt with extremely thick fur around his neck and head. This headfur was several shades darker than the thin golden fur of his body. Thraintar barely made sense of his first statement by the time he was dragged out the door and realized he was being given more chores. It dawned on him this soldier was one of the new ones and likely mistook him for his sister, which is why he was being dragged to the kitchens. Probably for the best to let Kintra sleep, Thraintar thought to himself, he could manage a couple more hours of light work. The massive soldier pulled Thraintar along until they got to the front of the Nobles Tower, where a dozen other foxes were just exiting the tower. Volenax among them. Thraintar winced. He got a whack on his leg from the massive legionnaire with his thin, golden tail, and the fox took that as a signal to move with the rest of the new kitchen staff. ~~~“So, the tail-kissing little scribe put the scroll on the table, right? The table right by the hearth.” “Oh no, what did you do?” I looked at the badger telling the story, half in horror, half in amusement. I’m shocked this man only got demoted and not sold for half the stupid shit he’s been bragging about half the night. The badger continued, “I gave the table a little kick. Just a little one, no one even noticed. No one noticed until they smelled burning parchment after the scroll rolled into the fire! That arse licker got flogged for incompetence the next morning for ruining important records. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw the flames!” the Centurion broke out laughing again. “Alright, alright, you always hog the night with your stories, Marcus. How about I get a turn to share one with the Tribune?” Sennelius, the big lion Centurion of the 4th Century was from Cyrenaica and most of his century was from the eastern half of the Empire. I looked around the table at the other officers. Atticus seemed as if he was about to fall asleep onto his plate and Julius was leaning back in his seat downing yet another goblet of wine. Boredom was clearly beginning to set in; I was feeling it too. “No, Sennelius, no more stories. There will be plenty of time for those this winter. How about the entertainment I was told you arranged?” The lion's eyes lit up at that suggestion. “Ah, yes, I took the liberty of selecting some of the more attractive slaves from the fortress stocks and dressed them more appropriately.” He stood up and rang a little bell. Before I could question what he meant by this, the kitchen doors opened for a troupe of a dozen foxes in scantily clad gowns. Someone in the kitchen was playing exotic music from the east and the foxes were swaying to some sort of dance they clearly didn’t understand much of. Under my fur my face must have been flushed, for I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My new officer seriously had the audacity to arrange some sort of brothel performance. A mostly nude vixen approached me and tried to take my paws, which I rebuffed. Another began touching my neck from behind. I was on the verge of shutting this embarrassment down and putting Centurion Sennelius in the stocks when I spotted him. Volenax was on the other side of the room, dressed like a female and looking horribly embarrassed by his circumstance. Behind him stood the hearth of the great hall, a newly made shrine to Vesta atop the mantle. A divine sign if there was one. Certainly, the Goddess of the household and virgins wanted me to take this opportunity to avenge the death of one of her own. I relaxed back in my seat and undid a strap on my tunic. All the officers were in casual wear with just a simple belted tunic and warm padded sandals while in the officer’s wing of the keep. My queue was the go ahead to the others who began to also remove their tunics. Sennelius was down to his under garments as quick as he could be while the Badger Marcus threw his tunic over the top of his head. Atticus got his paws on a nearby vixen and held her while she danced on his lap. Julius, the new wolf centurion of the 1st and my successor in the field held back and watched. As the dancing foxes circled the table with occasional gropes from the officers, eventually my sighted prey circled around to me. Volenax probably thought he could just dance right passed me. I grabbed him by his tail and yanked him into my lap. The shock on his face was priceless. I pulled the rest of my tunic off and threw it to the side, the fox got a full look at the muscles rippling under my fur. I grabbed his arms and pinned him back against me. “Hello, Volenax. How lovely to see you here. I’m going to be far less gentle with you than you were with your sister. Behave and you might live to see the morning. Do you understand me?” I growled into his ear. The terrified fox nodded. I could hear his breath hitch in panic. Good. I abruptly stood us up, pinning the fox’s arms to the small of his back with one of my arms and his chest to the table. His face pressed against the hard wood surface, his cheap headdress thrown to the side. With my free paw I pulled the string of my undergarments free and dropped them. The fox gave a pathetic whimper when I yanked up his dress and pulled his tail up with it. The thought of claiming this fox, of showing him what a real male was had already aroused me in my sheathe. This coward took prey too weak to resist. I conquered him, his people and this very fortress. Now I would conquer his body. Sennelius laughed and slid a bottle of olive oil across the table to my side. He wore only his golden fur, his red prick at full attention and being serviced by two vixen. Their nimble fox tongues darted across his barbed penis. “So the Tribune is a pēdīcātor and likes bottom boys. Good to know. It’ll make it easier to provide gifts to you in the future, sir.” Ignoring the cat's obvious attempts to garner my favor, I took mental note that the lion was only five inches long at full staff. Pathetic for a male of his stature. I suppose it’s true what they say of cats then. With my free paw, I tipped a far from adequate amount of oil onto my paw. It’d only be enough to get started. I wanted this fox to feel it of course. Once satisfied, I unsheathed my wolfhood, a sizable nine inches of a lupine spear. The olive oil slathered a thin layer across my length. I lined my tapered tip up with Volenax’s tailhole, his cream-colored fur surrounded by a pink star of a pucker. His balls were pulled up tight but the red of his tip peaked out of his near white sheath. I held his waist from behind and with a single powerful thrust, I hilted the fox. Before he could scream, before he could fully register how full his ass had just become, I pulled back to just the first inch of my wolfhood. The fox merely whimpered. I re-entered him, down to the hilt once again, then back out to just the tip just as fast. It was in this manner that I broke in my new vulpine fuck toy. Across the table Marcus was beginning to plow a vixen. Atticus had the muzzle of a fox wrapped around his wolf cock and Julius was following his lead with a fox’s face buried between his legs. Sennelius had his prick in one of his two vixens already. In my haze of bliss at having an exceptionally tight tailhole wrapped around my cock, my eyes continued to wander around the room. Most of the foxes were vixen and had already been claimed by one of the officers. Only a couple of the women were left. One of the remaining foxes was another male, a green-eyed young man I’d seen before at the smithy with Atticus, the apprentice who made the nails. We had made eye contact then and I had liked his eyes; they reminded me of a lake back in Italia. His eyes were not on mine right now, however. They were fixed on my cock and his brothers’ ass.~~~ Thraintar had been shocked he’d been drafted into some sultry, low-brow show. He’d been shocked that he didn’t actually mind it that much. It shocked him when that wolf grabbed his brother and began undressing. But what shocked Thraintar the most was that he found himself staring at that striking wolf’s cock burying itself in his brother's rump. Over and over again, it’d disappear in that monster Volenax, come back out and then go back in, all the while making that cretin squeal. Thraintar was shocked that he found himself envious of his brother once again. Why had the wolf chosen him? That gorgeous wolf was plowing an unworthy waste of flesh. It should be him that sat upon that marvelous black-furred throne with that red spear inside him. Thraintar found himself on his knees beside the Tribunes throne just watching. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d thrown down his loose fitting garments and completely stripped himself. ~~~ My fox admirer sat beside the chair, clearly enjoying what he saw. I didn’t plan on disappointing him. The fox underneath me wasn’t enjoying it as much. His sobs of pain were being broken by yips of pleasure as I slammed every sensitive place deep inside his body. He’d clearly never been touched like this by a male before. I kept hilting him until I felt my knot begin to swell. It soon became too difficult to force my bulb in with a single thrust, so I kept the momentum with the forward seven inches. I adjusted my angle to accommodate my engorged knot. This must have had a positive effect on the fox, because his hole clenched down hard and he began yipping wildly. My ears twitched to the sound of splattering on the rug underneath the table as Volenax came. I groaned and the increased tightness of the fox. Getting my knot in now would be a challenge, but I would break this fox if I had to. I began to trade speed for power. Each thrust took longer but slammed into the soft backside with greater force. Like a battering ram in a siege, I would hammer a breech in his defenses until my weapon could get inside. The pressure in my groin built up, I could feel the need to breed. I leaned forward a growled into his ears. I wanted him to know this would hurt. He understood and began sobbing. Each bash against his tight vulpine hole only angered my knot further. The bright red orb throbbed with need for entrance into this fox. His pink ring kept stretching with each of my strikes, each time accepting just a little more of me. A tiny tip of my claw distance at a time; I battered my knot in. I needed the tie to release the pressure held back behind my swollen knot, it was the only way to relive it. Eventually I got to the middle of my knot, and that signature piece of lupine flesh sunk into this wailing fox with an audible pop. Even Sennelius heard it from across the room and in the middle of his second fox fuck. I growled and slammed forward as much as I could. With a final baring of my teeth, I bit the neck of the fox, the pressure in my cock bursting free finally. I came in this fox, filling him deeply. After my first few spurts of wolf seed, I threw my muzzle back and howled. I could taste blood on my tongue as I did, so I knew I bit him pretty damn hard. Not that I cared. Volenax was sobbing underneath me for the full minute while I came in him. When I finally fell from my conquest high, I slumped down on the devastated fox, knocking the wind out of him. I pressed my muzzle to his ear and whispered, “Now how do you think that girl you raped felt? Do you think I should finish cutting your throat like you did her?” He cried, “No, please, I’m sorry, I never should have done it. It started as a joke, we were just fucking her. But then Dymon said we might have made her pregnant and then the gods would punish us with monsters for breeding our sister. So I killed her because I was scared. It was better for her too, so she wouldn’t have monster children. Please, understand, I was trying to be merciful.” Volenax pleaded. Merciful? Ha! I stood up, pressed both arms firmly against the small of his back and yanked my cock back as hard as I could. There was a tearing sound and a trickle of fluid as my wolfhood slipped free of Volenax’s ruined ass. A puddle of wolf cum drained out of the fox, who had at this point gone limp. I assume he fainted from the pain. My cock was still coated in my own cum and still throbbing hard. I turned to the smith’s assistant and held my roman spear just in front of his muzzle. Looking down at him, I said, “Would you like to enjoy what this slave didn’t appreciate?” Thraintar leapt forward at the proposal, wrapping his muzzle around that handsome wolf's dripping cock. The taste was divine. It was strongly male, slick and salty from his cum but oh so warm in his muzzle. Thraintar’s tongue danced around the tip and veins of his wolf cock. His lupine scent overwhelmed his nose as he pressed it into the wolf’s pubic fur. Thraintar could get his jaw around that massive knot, but he could not get his lips and tongue to properly service it, wrap around it and give it his love. His paws wrapped themselves around his muscular thighs, gripping his master harder. Ahhhh, this fox knew how to give a proper oral service. I hadn’t been blown like this since arriving in Britannia. I could feel my knot swelling back to full size again, that unique pressure of a good cum edging closer again. I gave the smiths ears a rub and massaged his head to let him know his work was appreciated and to encourage him on. I liked this fox a lot more than the other one. Thraintar could feel his lupine master getting closer, the pulsing of his heartbeat was getting faster. There was something special about feeling your lover's heart in your mouth, throbbing and telling you their life and love for you was there on your tongue. The young fox male moaned and sucked on his prize, eager to get as much of the precious seed from his master as he could. It had been so long since he’d had a partner to share this with, this special bonding of the soul. His father couldn’t stop him from drinking deep from a male this time. I felt my walls crumbling once again, this time to a truly passionate embrace. My cock jumped inside his muzzle and I howled in ecstasy as I came again, right down this smithy fox’s throat. All the excess filled his muzzle and even dripped passed his lips. He just kept sucking on my lupine cock, kept drinking my seed down as if it was the only thing he’d had to eat in months. I felt a splatter at my feet as he came too. His paws never left my thighs; he didn’t bother to touch himself. By the time I finished filling this amazing fox, I could breathe again. I rolled his useless brother out of the way and sat back in the chair, pulling him into my lap with me. He panted heavily with need for air and my scent. I took a moment to glance around the table. Marcus had a vixen draped across his seat and he was playing with her lower pairs of tits, his limp badger cock hanging between his legs, clearly spent for the night. Atticus was knotted with one vixen and made out with a second: the old, perverted dog. Julius had his vixen tied, seated in his lap facing forward and rubbing her swollen belly; he had clearly filled that fox quite well. Sennelius’ tiny cat prick had retreated to its golden pouch, his first vixen fuck lapping at his balls with her tongue and the second getting her topmost pair of nipples nipped by the large cat. I felt confident in my two conquests, with plans for more with this pretty green-eyed fox in my personal quarters. My officers couldn’t say I wasn’t able to keep up with them. I pressed my muzzle to my pretty fox. “I am Lucius Quintius Sabinus, Tribune of the 3rd Cohort, but you may call me Lucius. I’m happy to see you again, my helpful little fox. I didn’t expect you to have such… roman tastes. What may I call you?” He blushed profusely, visible even under his red fur. “I am Thraintar. I suppose I am just a smith’s apprentice now. It’s my honor to serve you, Lucius.” The red fox paused for a moment. “Can I ask a question?” “Yes, of course.” I said, as I gave a little lick to his cheek to try and calm his nerves. His shy demeanor was quite adorable. “Why did you take my brother-half before me?” His Latin wasn’t perfect, but his message was understood. I rolled my eyes looking at the fox passed out on the floor. “Your brother was suspected in killing a girl, another sibling I’m told. I wanted to get him to admit it, which he did. I’m going to have to execute him in the morning. I hope this isn’t a problem.” To my surprise, the little fox growled, turned and spat on his brother. “Brother-half. Not surprised he is a murderer. He beat me many times. Threatened to do worse. He deserves worst thing you can do to him for all the pain he has caused. Old king, my father, was not much better. He hurt women too.” I thought for a minute. This poor kid had gone through a lot of abuse, a really shitty family here in this fortress before I showed up. I nuzzled his face a bit more and gave him more comforting licks. He shifted in my lap and gasped when he felt my wolfhood stiffen back to attention against his butt. With a shift of his tail, he tried to press my tip to his hole, eagerly trying to get me in him again. I gave him another lick then said, “Hold on, Thraintar, I can give you that but let us go somewhere more intimate”. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew they were sparkling with excitement at that. I carried the small fox bridal style out of the dining hall, still in just my fur, up the step to my personal quarters. A four-poster bed had been erected in place of the nest of furs that had formerly been the king’s bed. I laid the fox down on it and admired his body. Slim, agile and delicate. His fur needed a cleaning, but it had a vibrant color to it, far brighter colors than my midnight black. He reached out to grasp my paw and I held his. We just looked at each other for a moment, his green eyes to my blue. His eyes eventually drifted once again to my red wolfhood, prominently standing out against my dark black fur. His eyes widened looking at the size of it. “Are all wolves of Rome as large as you, Lucius?” “Hahaha, no, of course not. I’m bigger than average but there are bigger wolves still.” The fox smirked, “I saw the big cat, he was very small, small like small fox. Even I just as big.” I splayed a wide grin at that, “Yes, that is Sennelius, he’s quite small, isn’t he? That surprised even me. I guess it doesn’t bother him much since he’s such a kissass.” Thraintar looked confused. “He puts his tongue in assholes?” “Oh, haha, no, sorry, my bad. It’s an expression. He likes to grovel to others rather than brag about himself. That’s how he makes others like him.” I explained. Thraintar to the opportunity to grab my cock and squeeze it. “Very big. I want it in me.” I smiled. Stepping from the bed for just a moment, I dug out another jar of olive oil, this one with special herbs and spices mixed in specifically for intercourse. I grabbed a stick of incense too and quickly lit it. The room filled with a gentle waft of sweet smoke, enough to be pleasant but not enough to overwhelm canine noses. Thraintar took a big whiff of it and seemed to enjoy it. He rolled back onto the bed and I could see his fox cock halfway out of his sheath. The incense of Venus was working already. I crawled into bed with the red fox and held him in my arms. Staring into his eyes again, I pressed my lips to his and kissed him. He whined and his ears fell back, giving me his total submission. I pressed my tongue to his lips, asking permission for entry and he returned with his own tongue to meet mine. Our pink canine ribbons danced in our joined muzzles for some time before we had to break for air. “I liked that. It has been long time since I had someone to kiss” Thraintar said with a wistful look, lost in a memory for a moment. “It’s been a long time for me since I’ve had a kiss like that. Like one from a lover rather than a brothel.” I agreed. I didn’t use brothels often, only when I couldn’t take the lack of sex any longer. It’d been almost two years since I lay with someone. I dove back in for another kiss, this time exploring every nook and cranny of my fox’s teeth. He still had most of them, and the ones missing were from damage not infection based on taste. Probably those beatings he took. I rubbed his head while tasting him, his tail thrummed the feather bed incessantly. Breaking apart again, I looked at him and asked, “how would you like me to take you?” Thraintar panted heavily and rolled over onto his back, using his legs to lift his butt up so I could access his tailhole. “I want to see you when you knot me,” he said to me. I licked my lips. I liked how this fox thought. I reached over to the end table and grabbed the special olive oil. Applying a copious amount of oil to my shaft came first. Then, I added another pawful to Thraintars tailhole, pressing a single finger inside gently to get some of the oil in. He winced at first but after a moment I was able to add a second finger and then a third. More of the oil went inside him along with my digits. I gently worked him, giving his insides a rubbing and working out some of the tension. This would make it easier for my shaft to take him. After a few minutes of opening him up, I pulled out my paw. Thraintar panted with excitement, and I leaned in closer, lining my tapered penis with his opening. I looked at him and said, “I promise to be gentle. If you need a moment, please tell me to stop. I want to pleasure you, not hurt you. Do you understand?” Thraintar nodded enthusiastically and said “Yes, I say stop you stop. Please keep going.” I smiled and pressed my tip to his hole, his warmth kissing my wolfhood. The stretching I gave him allowed for an easy entrance of the first four inches of wolf into fox before he really felt any discomfort. It wasn’t until the sixth inch that he winced in pain, and I stopped. He breathed in and out. “Go. More please.” I nodded and slid in another two inches before the next barrier; this time he cried out in pain. Now I was getting worried, but the look on his face didn’t match my worry. It looked like pleasure. “More. Go more.” I obliged once again and he moaned in relief, enjoying this. I must have been pressing on his sensitive regions by now. I reached the bottom of my ninth inch and gave my own groan of pleasure at hilting this tight fox. He whined again, this time a mix of pain in the pleasure. “Are you alright?” I asked. “Amazing. So full. Please stay for moment.” He asked. I figured he’d need some time to adjust when I bottomed out, so I gladly gave it to him. I was happy to have warm fox wrapped around my cock again. I think Thraintar might actually be tighter than his brother’s virgin ass was. His tongue fell from his muzzle and he stared deeply into my eyes again. I almost got lost in those green orbs before he started rocking his hips on my spear, signaling he was ready for me to thrust into him. I started very gently, taking my time to pull fully out and then sink fully back in. Thraintar enjoyed it quite a bit based on his moans. He threw his head back, whined and yipped with glee. “Yes, oh, yes, just like that. More wolf, more wolf.” He begged me. How could I refuse him? I picked up my pace gradually. I had no way of knowing how long I pressed my hips into this red-orange fox, stretching his tailhole around my cock. We existed outside of time, just in that moment. The only rhythm of our world set by my thrusts and our heartbeats. Somewhere in that time, Thraintar had another orgasm. Fox cum sprayed across his chest, legs and onto my fur too. I kept prodding his insides and he gripped the sheets tighter, squealing with pleasure. I felt my knot swell again around the time he stopped cumming the first time. His hole was exceedingly tight now, almost too tight to even hope to get my knot in. But I heard his pleading whimpers. “Knot me” he begged openly, pleading to me to tie him. I had to at least try. I picked his hips up to give myself more room to work, eliciting another squeal from the fox. Instead of slamming my hips forward, I began slamming my hips down, hoping to use the pull of Gaia to drive my knot home. With this new attack angle, I could feel his tight rear loosening in response to my cock. I was almost there. I felt my balls tighten up and my knot get as hard as iron. I was getting close. I had to get in my fox. With a few more forceful pushes downward, the last thrust struck true and secured the tie. I felt a wave of relief and pleasure wash over me as I let another load of puppy cream into a fox. I howled as Thraintar yipped with his second release. I grabbed his fox cock and squeezed it, getting rewarded with a splash of fresh fox cum which I wiped up with a paw and tasted. It was salty like other males, but it had an herbal flavor I couldn’t place. It wasn’t bad. I gave his knot more squeezes to maximize his own orgasm. I collapsed to the bed then pulled Thraintar onto me like a blanket; one leg draped on either side of my hips, his chest on mine and his head nestled in the crook of my neck. Of course, he couldn’t move much given that my cock was tied in his ass. I don’t think he minded the arrangement, though. “I think I like you, little fox”. I was feeling vulnerable, and it was easy for me to admit how I felt to this forward vulpine. “We can do this more? I would like that. I like you. I like Lucius cock.” We both laughed at that admission. “Yes, we can do this all winter long. I’m in charge of everything that goes on here until spring comes, no one can tell me otherwise. That’s the power of being Tribune. I still must do my duty and make sure my wolves are ok, but this is winter quarters in a fortress in a pacified region. We’re just going to be sitting on our tails all season long trying to keep warm. I would like to keep warm by staying in bed with you, Thraintar.” “I would like that too. Every night. Day we do work, night we fuck.” He said. I laughed again. “Oh, you still want to learn the blacksmithing trade? I can have Atticus teach you as much as you want to learn. He’s got plenty of maintenance work to do and he could use the help.” Thraintar smiled. “Yes. I would like that. Atticus tough but good teacher. I do not want Attitcus knot, only want Lucius knot.” I gave the fox a short kiss on the lips. “Don’t worry about that, I’ve known Atticus for a while now, he only likes females. The others all prefer females too. I don’t know about all the wolves under my command, but they know not to touch someone claimed by an officer, let alone the Tribune.” Thraintar looked thoughtful for a moment. “Can you protect someone else too? Can you protect my sister?” I raised an eyebrow, he said sister not half-sister. “Sister? So, you had the same mother? Yes, of course I can protect her. I will have a necklace made that shows she’s a free fox and off limits to any of my wolves. You are free too. I can’t make you a citizen, but I can ensure you remain a freeperson, able to come and go where you please across the entire Empire.” I could see tears forming in his eyes. “Thank you, Lucius.” I gave him another deep kiss, enjoying my larger lupine tongue as it played against his vulpine one. We sat there for some time, alternating between kissing and just pressing our faces together. At some point I licked him and said, “We don’t have one here, but I’d love to give you a proper Roman bath. A lot of people outside the Empire think it’s odd, but it’s practically a required tradition back home.” He looked puzzled, “Bath? Like with water, clean fur?” “Yes, for the most part, but also for enjoyment. It’s for relaxing and getting clean.” I explained. Thraintar turned to look at me in the eyes and asked “On condition. I want you to take me from this place away. Take me and sister away, across the ocean to this Rome, to better places. Take me to all the baths you want, far from here.” I smiled. “That’s bold of you to ask, but I can arrange that, yes.” In all honesty, I think I wanted nothing more than to take this pretty little fox with me wherever he wished to follow. His request was the best promotion gift I could have imagined.