Catch and Release

Story by Whyte Yote on SoFurry

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT. OTHERWISE, ENJOY.

FEEDBACK ALWAYS WELCOME TO:Â [email protected]

***

Night has settled in for a deep rest when the fox awakens. The darkness is complete around him; not even the slightest bit penetrates around the perimeter of the window shade. The wolf has seen to that.

Damian blinks away the last bits of sleep from the corners of his eyes, and starts when he hears what must have roused him. The gentle jingling of keys in the lock of a door, in the next room. The soft click of the tumblers as they glide into place, followed by an equally soft creak as the door opens.

Master is home.

The wolf is a creature of habit, and order. First, the heavy rustle of the coat on the leather easy chair. The keys follow, muffled in heavy fabric. Damian's ears prick forward, catching every slight nuance of Master's movements. He sits up in the bed, slowly, supporting himself on his arms, stretching out his nubile yet curvy body. His pulse quickens just enough to make him anticipate Master's entrance.

Oh, God.Â

The wolf enters, silent but for the sound of the door on the carpet. Damian sees nothing but a faint silhouette in the weak light, but the musk that strikes his muzzle is enough to tell him what his eyes cannot. The fox licks his lips involuntarily, one paw straying to his sheath but meeting metal instead. He swallows his whimper and pulls the blankets back over himself.

"Damian..." comes Shadow's voice, low, strong, predatory. "I can see you breathing under the covers..." The fox holds it in, trying to remain motionless, knowing there is nothing he can do to sway his master from what he wants...not that either of them would dare deny the other such a thing. Not after this long. No...tonight the denial ends.Â

The touch starts at Damian's still-socked feet: he feels the tip of a claw run its way from his toes up the inside of one leg, following the gentle convex of his thigh, deftly avoiding the fox's more sensitive areas. Up over his belly, higher and higher until Damian can no longer keep quiet. He gives his assent in the form of a throaty moan that vibrates over Shadow's pawpads as they caress the exposed flesh of the fox's neck.Â

"Have you been good, like I asked you?" Shadow inquires, his unseen smile evident in his voice. Damian nods against his Master's paw.

"Didn't touch yourself all week?" The fox shakes his head vigorously, and it's the truth. Even with the cage on his sheath, he could get himself off if he wanted to, but Shadow requested chastity, and chastity is what he received. The patience and strong will of a pet dedicated to his mate and alpha, hanging on every word, obeying every command. And as he feels the wolf's paw between his thighs, cupping his bloated sac, his days of dedication are all worth it. He can't help but spread his legs, making sounds he knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it. It feels so foreign to him, and so good.

"Good boy," murmurs the wolf, watching the fox in the darkness. He needs little light for the task. The lock makes minute clinking sounds against the metal plate of the chastity device, and Shadow tugs on it, putting pressure on Damian's already swollen sheath.

"Ahh!..." The pleasure is unexpected but duly appreciated. There is some minor discomfort, but nothing he hasn't experienced before, and nothing he can't get used to.Â

Wolf musk starts to drift up from the other end of the bed, intoxicating in its own right. It tells Damian that he's doing a good job, doing what Shadow wants, and that is his one and only goal. But it's difficult to concentrate when his balls are being played with. Still, he manages to snake a paw downward and find one of Shadow's knees, and follow it up to the familiar curve of his scrotum.

There is no sheath to fondle, though. What the fox finds is a fully engorged shaft; one he knows has already turned from its normal shade of red to an erotically charged black. Right away he grasps it, sliding his pads along it, unable to tease like his Master can. Its surface is slick with precum, and the fox licks his lips in hopeful anticipation. But for now, the fingers on the fox's balls, and below, will suffice.

"I thought you would never get to that," Shadow says, turning a bit to achieve a better angle. "Is that what you want?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay then." He feels the wolf shift his weight, walking on his knees up the length of the fox's body, and Damian's heart skips a beat. The lupine scent becomes magnitudes stronger now, sending the vulpine's salivary glands into overdrive. It's another way of seeing in the dark without really seeing, but it still doesn't keep the wolfcock from slapping him in the side of the muzzle. It leaves a sticky trail wherever it goes.

Shadow may be calm and measured on the outside, but the fox knows that just under the surface boils an arousal that, when unleashed, can be a force with which to be reckoned. Damian knows this all too well, from previous experience, and the memory of a pleasantly sore tailhole serves to enforce that. As much as the wolf is a creature of habit, he can surprise too...and those moments tend to be the most fun.

The scent of lupine deep in his nostrils, the fox opens his mouth and leans forward. Hot flesh moves between his lips, stretching them wide as the familiar contours of Master's length enter slowly, inch by inch.Â

"There you go..." Shadow says, his normally confident voice now airy and slightly staggered. Damian knows exactly what to do to provide the most pleasure with his muzzle, and he immediately goes to it. He craves the reaction, craves the paw on his ear, driving him with a gentle force that tells him what to do without actually telling him what to do. "What an obedient little fox, eh?"

Damian nods imperceptibly, working the movement into a bobbing motion. He takes the length all the way to the knot, the girth bumping up against his lip-covered fangs, and lashes out his black tongue to tease along the underside of the bulge. Watery precum squirts into the back of his throat, its odor drifting up through his sinuses and making his head fuzzy with lust and desire for releaseâ€"both his and Master's.

Before too long, the wolf begins to thrust, and he holds the fox's head still so he can maximize the motion. Damian has no problem with that, because he's now able to concentrate on the claw that's pushing its way under his tail and making him fight to hold back his moaning. His sheath presses uncomfortably against its cage, rattling the lock holding him in, relentless. He can feel his pubic fur soaking through already.

"You're tight tonight, fox," the lupine says, bending down to speak into one laid-flat ear. "Just like every time I leave you alone for a while." Damian exhales out of his nose, feeling the claw find its way past his ring and slide in an inch or so, agreeing with his Master's statement. He knows it all too well: swollen sheath, bloated sac, and a tailhole that twitches with need after just a few days. If there's any pain at all, he's too horny to feel it, and even if he did he wouldn't care much.

With one final push into the fox's throat, Shadow withdraws both his cock and his finger and throws the fox onto his back, climbing between his legs and pushing them up against his shoulders. Damian's heart jumps at seeing (or feeling) his Master's forceful side suddenly shine through. Only a moment later, he feels the moist heat at his entrance, and only a moment after that he is penetrated, and quickly.

"Gah!" Damian barks out, suddenly filled with three inches of wolfcock. "Oh, ffff..." Shadow bends over him, grabs the fox's shoulders and sinks in the rest of the way until that big black knot bumps up against his sphincter. The pressure on his prostate is too much, not painful, but it triggers something deep inside him that he can't stop. He feels his balls pull up as much as they can against the sheath locker, the tip of his pink foxcock bumping up against the piss hole as seed surges through it and soaks his groin. He can do nothing so much as breathe into Shadow's neck. Words fail him as he feels the puddle grow between his and the wolf's bellies.Â

Shadow laugh-growls. He knows. "Couldn't hold it, could you?"Â

The whine that escapes Damian's throat is pure submission. He is flushed with a humiliation that is short-lived because he knows Shadow gets off on seeing his fox in such a position of desperate need. He continues to thrust slowly, deliberately, making Damian feel each and every inch as it enters his body, only to leave again. Pre slickens the way in copious bursts the fox can feel. Spittle drips onto Damian's head from Master's muzzle as he sits still, helpless to do anything but enjoy the ride.

Shadow walks up closer on his knees to he is pressed right into Damian's wonderfully snug round vulpine belly, panting as his climax nears. His thrusts become more erratic, the telltale sign of an impending end to what they've started. The fox wants it to last, and he knows the wolf wants the same, but after both being denied for so long, there is no use in trying to hold off the inevitable.Â

Damian begins to clench against the lupine length, milking it of its precious seed. "Oh, you bad boy, not fair..." Shadow sinks his claws into the vulpine's shoulders, but it's a punishment that only heightens the situation.Â

"So what?" asks the fox, the first actual sentence he's spoken tonight. Normally, it would be considered insubordination, but Damian has a feeling his Master is too far gone to care.

"You're going to make me come."

"Duh."Â

Shadow grunts and speeds up. "Fine then..." Damian's feetpaws are up near his ears, his hole as open as it can be. He feels it spread each time Shadow bottoms out, a wonderful sensation of fullness that can be matched by nothing else. The shaft swells one last time, accompanied by a lupine snarl, and the seed begins to flow deep into Damian's rump.

The fox's prostate goes crazy again, and the effect is immediate. His whole lower body convulses in a second climax with just as much cum as the first, spraying right through the sheath locker and into grey and white belly fur. The combined effect of slippery wolf seed and Damian's spasming sphincter allows Shadow to pop into a full-on tie, the last couple of inches trapped behind the fox's ring.

"Dammit...nnnghhh..." Shadow cusses through the rest of his climax, clamping down on Damian's neck as the fox can do nothing but be filled as full as he can remember. Finally, the wolf's hips stop and he collapses on top of his pet. Silence once again rules the room, save for the beating of two canid hearts and the throbbing of two canid erections, fully spent. There's no telling how long it is before Shadow speaks up.

"You know, I was going to surprise you with an espresso vodka afterwards, but since you made sure I can't go anywhere, you can get it yourself."Â He presses his nosepad against the fox's, cold and wet like always.Â

Damian wriggles his hips, doing nothing to help Shadow deflate. "Aww, that was sweet of you. It's the knot...er, thought...that counts, right?"

Snickering, the wolf responds, "That was awful and you know it."

"Yeah, I know it." The fox also knows that his wolf is smiling, his green eyes squinted up in that way that only a smile can bring. Shadow gives a tug, finds it fruitless, and sighs.

"Happy birthday anyway, even if I can't get to your other present for the next half hour."

"That's okay. I don't mind waiting." And as his lips meet the wolf's, Damian knows that can be said for the both of them.

11/14-11/28/09