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The Bouncy Bunny Burglar

by

Gruffy

2016 - 2017

*

A commission for Heru , that patron of butts, who keeps nudging me with ideas. I hope you'll have an interesting time reading, and I shall look forward to reading your comments as well! Remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy!

Cheers ^^

*

Ciarán was a stranger to the town, but it did not require him much effort to find his mark. The bunny, clad in tanned leather, slipped easily into the back alleys of the little town and stayed away from the main streets that not only boasted the unpleasantly noisy cobblestones but were also partially lit by another invention the townspeople were so very proud of, lamp posts with oil fires on them. Both the light and the rocky surface were hindrances for someone who aimed to stay out of the view and undetected by the passers-by as much as by the guards who occasionally roamed the streets with their truncheons and their lanterns.

The bunny had chosen his timing well. On such an evening, the shops were already closed except for the public houses, which meant that the townsfolk were either already in their homes for most part, or enjoying the ale in merry company. This meant that the bunny could slip through the town without too much trouble or the danger of being seen. He was quite sure that he would not be recognized - he had made sure to pass himself as a general laborer while he had scouted the town before - but for now his clothing was best suited for a wholly different purpose.

He enjoyed the sneaking aspect of it, although it also made him very nervous. His ears kept perking at the slightest noise. His movements were jerky, and consisted of a brief pounce forward on the alley before he would press himself flat against the wall and wait, listening for any signs of movement. It was nerve wracking even if he was confident that he would not be caught. The chickens mulling about behind the houses were a bigger danger to his nerves than the guards who occasionally wandered beyond the stone walls he used for cover.

The house he wanted to reach was impossible to miss. It stood two stories tall like most of the stone buildings in the town, but this one was of much greater size. It had several rooms on both stories, with many shuttered multi-pane windows that he knew were painted a gay shade of green. Besides its large size, there was also a courtyard that was lined by the household buildings on either side of the main residence of the obviously prominent family who might call the house home. The smell of cow dung intensified when Ciarán climbed over a low stone fence and then crept swiftly through the potato crops and closer to the house. He wasn't bothered by the earthly scents rising from the huge pile of the natural produce that he could see, obviously where it was shoveled directly from a hole in the wall of the cow shelter. A mellow moo prickled his ears.

The stinky approach was part of his plan. Anyone with a particularly acute nose would find it very difficult to discern the scent of a stranger approaching the premises. Ciarán was quite confident that he would not be in danger of encountering anyone in particular there. At this hour, the work of the day was over, and the darkness that prevailed would have made it difficult none the less.

The bunny reached the wall of the cow shelter and pressed onto it. A quick glance showed him the wooden gate, separating the wall of the shelter and the fence and encircled the courtyard. The moo of a cow was the only noise that picked his attention for the moment.

This is how this happens.

He wasn't going to enter through the gate, that was too obvious. Yet he crept directly over to it and peeked into the courtyard through a crack in the wooden construction.

Ciarán saw a mild glimmer of light. He was not too alarmed. He had expected to see some. There were over a dozen workers who tended the cows, the fields and the house. At any time, many of them would be present in the house, either in the main building or the outlying structures where at least some of them lived. He had not had the time to track the movements of everyone who worked there, but he knew enough of their schedules to make his sting with confidence.

He circled along the fence, past the cow shelter and its content occupants, to the rear of the building. The fence became slightly taller there, taller than he was himself.

Ciarán smirked. He was not a bunny for nothing, he thought, when he crouched just a little and sprang himself up.

He flew up into the air, and landed almost noiselessly to the spot where he had launched himself from. Ciarán released the breath he had been holding and let his mind run through what he had seen through the momentary glimpse onto the yard. Apple trees stood there, covering most of the backyard, with a door that led into the kitchens, he was quite sure. There was light in one window on the left, but the upstairs windows were all dark, just the way he had predicted.

The look he had taken during the falling part of his bounce was as important as the rest and came to be of greatest value when he jumped again, and this time gripped onto the top of the fence. His paws clenched and held onto the cold, slightly damp stone that was thankfully mostly void of the moss that would have made it very slippery and much more hazardous to scale onto.

The muscles on his arms and torso did the brunt of the work, but he also kicked himself from the wall to straddle it, before he let himself down, hanging onto the top of the fence with his fingertips until he allowed himself to fall onto the grassy ground.

Thump!

The noise alarmed him, but he crouched low and waited, his tall ears listening for any kind of signs that someone might have been roused by the sound he had made with his landing.

But nothing happened. The house and its adjoining yard remained perfectly still. The distant moo of a cow was almost comforting by now. That hay muncher didn't sound upset, which meant that the boy ordered to keep an eye on the livestock for the night wouldn't be alerted.

Ciarán smirked to himself. He wouldn't let himself be lulled, however. He had only taken one important step yet, and many were to follow.

What he was about to do was likely one of the riskiest parts of the whole endeavour. The window into what he assumed to be the gentlefolk's dining room was closed for the night, although not shuttered. Ciarán presumed they were only closed when the weather became worse. It was almost balmy for the moment. That too worked in his advantage, since it meant that the fires of the house were not kept lit, and that meant the maids or grooms would not be moving through the mansion to tend the fireplaces.

He did not want any surprise encounters.

Ciarán peeked into the room beyond. He could see the back of a grand chair, for the master of the house, Ciarán presumed. The sight pleased him. The occupant of the house was very well off indeed, to afford such large, ornate furnishings.

The window, despite its fine build, did not stand a challenge against Ciarán's talented paws. He knew the way they were built, what kind of measures were taken to close them against the weather and the possibilities of the sort Ciarán was. His paw slipped into a pocket of his snugly worn attire and pulled out a small item of metal. Its rounded shape and extreme thinness meant it could slip between the two wooden frames, aided by a layer of oil it sported. Ciarán could nudge the wedge through and then, with a tilt of his paw, to force the latch upwards and out of the way. He could hear it click into the open position, through the glass. The bunny smirked again.

He pocketed his tool of burglary and moved the window as slowly as he could. He had no idea whether the wrought iron hinges were going to be noisy or not. They could raise a real hell with their screeching, should the worst thing happen, but Ciarán was happy to discover that the first panel swung easily, as did the other.

They must keep this house very well.

Sometimes it was the opposite, in his experience. Some of the richer folks were incredibly miserly when it came to their coin purses and would only allow the most crucial of expenditure in upkeeping their houses. As long as it appeared pristine, things would proceed on their own, no matter of a squeaky hinge or a roof threatening to collapse under its own weight. The owner of this house was another case, and that pleased Ciarán.

He can spare what I aim to take!

He didn't feel any guilt for the fact he was breaking into someone's house with the intention of stealing their valuables. If they had it, he might as well take it. Whatever he was going to find here was not going to cause the owner of the house to become destitute, that was for sure. He wasn't going to slit the throats of the cattle or taint the mill or steal the lands. The keys to the master's wealth remained out of his reach. Ciarán's paws were aimed at other things, chattel, things he could pocket and then sell at a good price with some less scrupulous merchants he had learned to know in his day.

He slipped into the quiet room with the bouncy ease of his feet and closed the windows noiselessly.

The room was as large as he had predicted from the outside, stone walled, with wooden floor panes and thick carpets covering it. Ciarán was glad for that. It made it easier to cross the room without rousing too much noise.

A smell of wood smoke and the hints of cooked meat filled his nose, a multitude of scents that lingered from many meals eaten in firelight in this fine room. There were several wooden cabinets that lined the walls, likely filled with expensive metalware. Ciarán suspected they would make a fine sale with some fence in the city. The issue with them was that hauling a whole bag of such booty would be much more difficult than palming a few trinkets from the truly unusual treasures he expected were kept elsewhere.

Ciarán knew where he should start to look, although it presented a series of obstacles in their own right. The bunny had to creep out of the dining room and find his way upstairs to where he presumed the Master of the house would keep his valuables. The richer they grew, he thought, the more predictable they became.

The door opened with little noise, for which the bunny was grateful. The hall was large and smelled of tallow. The stairs were a rather obvious feature, allowing the passage onto the upper floor. They could easily be his undoing as well, Ciarán thought. A particularly loud creak was bound to bring out anyone still awake, or even rouse the rest of the house staff who had likely already gone to bed. He preferred them to remain wholly unaware of the night visitor into their house.

Sleep tight, my fellow servants.

He stood at the foot of the stairs for quite some time, to listen for signs of trouble before he began the careful crab walk up the stairs, on all fours. He remained very close to the wall in the hopes that over there the steps would be most solid and less likely to creak, as they sat upon their fittings by the plastered wall. It was not a noiseless way of making the climb, and he knew that it was a grave mistake to underestimate how sensitive the ears of an elderly cook might be when it came to strange little creaks in the house. They could be the signal of rats or other vermin getting at the food, and nobody was more zealous a houseguard than the matron protecting her larder.

Thinking about the kind of food the master of the house surely ate made him feel hungry, but only briefly. Cierán was not going to let hunger pangs be the end of his subterfuge.

He climbed the steps and peeked carefully to either side before he dared the landing on the top of the stairs. It opened into a space that was larger than the hall below, and finely decorated and furnished with only the best that could be afforded. The many windows alone were a sure sign of such, as were the tapestries and the carpet that made the floor more comfortable to traverse. For Cierán it offered the advantage of silence, above everything else. Stealing a carpet would be such a drudgery.

The bunny thief moved to the right paw side of the building. He had judged from the number of chimneys that the sleeping quarters were located to the left paw side, which meant that he was most likely to find the master's private rooms from the other side. He knew that the merchant who occupied this house lived alone, without a wife, younglings, or other dependants. The risk of running into a sleepy member of the household was reduced by that, but a servant chancing upon him was still a possibility.

He moved swiftly, although without undue haste. That made for uncontrolled steps and accidents in brushing against things, and that led into noise and that led into discovery. Cierán did not want any of that.

He found the door leading into the next room. It was locked.

Good.

Instead of finding it a hindrance, Cierán thought it was a good sign. Whoever locked a door while not in the house either wished to preserve privacy or to make sure nobody would meddle with whatever was kept in that room. Either the owner of the house was concerned over nosy servants, or something else, even.

Perhaps Cierán was that something else, the bunny thought, when he pulled out his skeleton key from another pocket in his garb.

Now...

The bunny kneeling on the floor pressed one ear against the door. He used a fingerpad to locate the hole for the key and pushed the jagged brass key into the little hole. The key might not have been a perfect fit, but it was not meant to be. The teeth scratched within the lock, seeking for their counterparts inside the lock. Ciarán did not expect it to be a complex affair. These locks were mostly physical barriers rather than something designed to puzzle a possible intruder. Should one found broken, the accusing finger would point at a thief. If something disappeared within and there were no signs of breaking and entering, that would implicate someone with access to the key and the house...or someone in possession of the tools of the sort that Ciarán kept in his pockets.

The lock opened with a satisfying snap. The bunny pulled the key out with a careful wriggling motion. He remembered to stop for a moment to listen for any sounds of alarming nature, but found none. Anyone with him in the house was still most likely oblivious to the presence of an uninvited guest. Cierán wanted to keep it that way. He was swift to move into the other room and close the door.

It was very dark, but he could tell that this room offered much promise. The desk and the chair suggested it was the gentleman's study, as were the books on the shelf nearby, with their gilded covers.

Yes!

There was a candelabra standing on the desk, but Ciarán did not dare to touch upon it. The candle he actually lit was thin, little more than a wick dipped in beeswax, but it cast a warm glow over the room. The bunny held his flimsy source of light at the eye level, to best study his surroundings.

It was obviously the grand room of a rich man. The furniture was of lacquered wood, padded, of good making. The fireplace had an ornate mantelpiece decorated with many carvings. The stone walls carried tapestries decorated with family crests and intricate, if oddly produced Biblical imagery. The flattened faces looked upon the singular bunny who was performing a visual inventory of the room. The crossed swords and the shields on the wall were pretty, but not very potential for filling his pockets. The sturdy desk and the obviously metal-reinforced heavy chest behind it, by the wall, were much more attractive from Ciarán's point of view. Their very appearances yelled of treasures, and attracted the bunny to cross the room, his palm protecting the flickering flame.

He crouched behind the desk, to get a good look at the drawers he found built into it. He didn't even have to see them to know they were there. These types liked keeping their most valuable possessions close, whether it was tobacco, snuff, valuable papers, their hymnal, or more worldly treasures.

I bet you're the type to fondle your coins, aren't you?

He almost giggled. Ciarán had at least once claimed that he could smell money even from afar. The bunny was quite sure, based on this alleged skill, that the drawers were filled with precious metal stamped with the King's seal. Where else would the master of the house keep his money but there, close by whenever he held his court in his study, looking over ledgers and the household books?

Ciarán opened the first draw, the one void of a lock. As expected, nothing of value was found within. The writing utensils might be used to make money when a prestigious name was applied onto paper, but alone the empty sheets and ink were of no interest. Obviously the man was not careless enough to leave letters of credit lying around. Ciarán didn't mind it. The paper money felt so much flimsier than hard gold and silver he could feel weightily in his paw.

He pushed the drawer closed and moved to the second one. This one was unsurprisingly locked. He held the candle close to study the hole for the key. It was too small to allow him to see within, but the size suggested the kind of a lock that it provided entry to. The scent of metal titillated upon his nose. He could practically taste it on his tongue.

Oh gimme gimme gimme...

He knocked on the face of the drawer, softly. The noise told him that while it appeared to be of wooden construction, metal reinforcements hid underneath the surface. That was more than promising for the would be appropriator of valuables.

You are making this very easy, aren't you?

His little candle dribbled a drop of wax onto his knuckles. It was hot, but not enough to break the bunny's concentration. There was a lot of work to be done still.

Reveal your secrets to me...

Ciarán's fingers fondled through the pocket that contained the lockpicks, and chose one to start with. Probing it with this little metal spike would help him to determine what kind of a construction had been used, and what he needed to do still to open the lock.

He continued his metallic scratching until he was happy with it, and took another tool out of his secret pocket. This one looked more like a proper key, although smaller than one that the bunny would expect the hole on the drawer to take. The size of the drawer made it easier for him, too. The really small locks in jewellery boxes were the true challenge.They required a soft touch, a careful aim if he didn't want to break the whole thing while rummaging inside the lock. Sometimes that didn't matter. Sometimes a crowbar was all he needed.

This visit was all about subterfuge. He did not want to leave any signs of his visit. Let the owner of these treasures discover the burglary only when he needed his valuables, and opened his secret desk drawer to find the money gone. By that time he would be far gone from the town that would surely point the accusing finger at any strangers that had been seen there as of recent. Ciarán was not concerned of that. He was convinced that his disguise as a labourer would allow him to slip away unnoticed, and take to the road in a yet another set of clothes.

Need to fill my pockets first.

His candle burnt shorter with every passing, tense moment. The lock required another of his picks, and a some more force. The bar was heavy, hidden behind the oval-shaped metal face of the lock.

Strong locks for big prizes, the bunny thought.

The bar shifted.

Yes...

Another little turn and the lock was no more a hindrance to Cierán's pursuits. He removed the delicate instruments from the little hole and then carefully slid the drawer open.

He didn't even mind that the candle drizzled even more wax. The pearly drops landed on top of coins neatly stacked inside the drawer.

Hello there.

It was more money than most peasants would ever see in their lifetime, let alone own. The glittering gold and silver beckoned for his fingers. Cierán held himself back. There would be time for such games later. Right now he had to make sure that he could indulge in due time in a safer location.

Pay day.

The pockets on his hips contained bags made of a thin, yet strong fabric. They were meant to serve the exact purpose at paw now, to be stuffed full of coins. He hoped that they would not clatter too much.

I'll just have to make them really full.

He allowed himself a victorious smile. There was no time to count the money at paw, only to scoop up the coins and to put as many of them into the bags as he could. The one-pawed method due to his other paw holding the little candle made it slightly awkward, but he knew that by hurrying he would make undue noise and possibly attract a maid.

It was almost a shame. The drawer contained so many coins that they would be ample booty for Cierán. He had barely started going through the study. It was possible that one of the storage trunks and cabinets contained a strongbox with extra valuables. His mind flashed with images of jewels, precious stones and further piles of gold coins. Lugging that much out of the house without rousing attention would be very difficult. He would have to leave some stuff behind, that seemed inevitable.

The bag became full swiftly. He pulled its leather thong shut and tied it one-pawedly.

He began to scoop more money out and into his bag.

Cierán's knuckles tapped against the back of the drawer. The resulting noise piqued him. He unclenched his fingers and pushed some of the coins way to make a little more room.

"Knock! Knock!"

The sound made his ears flick curiously.

Well what do we have here...

He almost spoke it aloud, but remained quiet. It might still be just a false hope. Further investigation would be required.

"Knock! Knock!"

The padded fingers touched along the interior, feeling for any telltale signs of protrusion, any changes in the smoothness that he expected.

Ciarán found a little notch, the size of the tip of his finger, barely noticeable on the interior wall.

Nice one!

His fingers manipulated the little notch that allowed him to press down on it and then, with a twist of his wrist, the entire wall moved. The secret compartment had been well hidden, but the hollow noise his tapping made had told the bunny of its existence. Now he had access, and his fingers moved eagerly inside.

He felt something soft, although it became hard when he pressed on it. That alone gave him an idea. He cupped his paw and pulled, and procured a bundle. It felt quite heavy on his palm, whatever was wrapped in this very soft purple fabric. It felt like silk, precious and laboriously made by an expert paw. Whatever it hid from the view had to be even more valuable, for it to be hidden in the secret compartment of a drawer that already offered extra protection with its steel implements and the presence of so much gold to lure any greedy soul away from what the owner of this object wanted to especially protect.

Cierán knew that he should have just pocketed it and brought it with him, for further evaluation. Yet his curiosity got the better of him, like it sometimes did. He placed the bundle down onto the floor by the desk and hunched down so that he could cast the little candle's light over it while he unwrapped it.

It looked fantastic.

It was a stone, or a crystal, he wasn't sure. It was heavy, and it had been cut into an intricate shape that reflected the light into a multitude of directions. Even the modest light of his candle made it shimmer in various shades of green, with the occasional hint of golden yellow, like rays of the sun.

"Oohh..." now the surprise escaped from his lips.

He was struck by its beauty, and the fantastically complex surface detail. It looked like the light flowed through it and became scattered into many separate, shimmering speckles. It was so unexpected. He had never seen anything like it, let alone stolen something of the sort. It was a remarkable item, something...

...something he had not seen before.

The bunny blinked slowly. It felt difficult to look away from the pretty stone. It was so large...and obviously so very precious. He would make an incredible amount of money selling it. How many jewels could an unscrupulous jeweller make should this huge rock be broken into many individual gemstones? Dozens? To be sold at a good profit, surely...

It was a beautiful object.

A streak of possessiveness struck him quite suddenly. Cierán had never had many things, been more prone to pay for what he needed and then to move on when he felt that it was too dangerous to stay in case he was caught up by the authorities. He only needed his tools and his coins. Coins gave him everything he wanted.

Now he wanted this stone. Thoughts of selling it to the best bidder melted away like the candle wax dribbling onto his fingers. Nobody else would get this stone. Whatever its origin was, however the merchant had come to possess it, now it was Cierán's and he was not going to let anyone else enjoy it. Looking at it made him feel oddly happy and unconcerned with things like getting caught. Why should he be? He found something so beautiful. His goal was fulfilled. He had gold and he had a...a treasure.

Such a lovely piece.

*

Dubhghall's tail swung happily, even through the cooling night air. The booze in his belly made sure that he was well fortified against the weather. His mood was more than buoyant. The talks at the public house had proceeded even better than he had expected. The colliers had been more than amenable to his suggestions, and the paper in his pocket, signed in ink and stamped with his seal, meant that he was going to become party to the wonderful profits the coal trade provided. Even now he imagined the coal burning in many iron stoves about the town, and the rumor had it that in due time the horseless carriages propelled by steam would be coming as well.

Dubhghall's long lupine muzzle split into a casual smirk while he wondered just how he could become party to those profits as well. What kind of rules were there for owning lengths of those metal tracks that the carriages ran on? He would have to ask the local Lord Lieutenant, or the magistrate, perhaps.

The master of the house stomped into his yard with confidence. His steps tapped on the slightly damp stone. He used a key hanging from a heavy metal ring to open the door.

Subtle in his arrival or not, he knew better than that he was to arrive unannounced. Whatever noise he had made had been enough to rouse the butler. The fox was dressed in his tailed coat, no matter the hour, and hurried to receive his master's coat and cane, a candle holder in his paw.

"I hope you had a pleasant night out, milord," the fox murmured.

"Splendid, Torin," the wolf replied. "Splendid indeed."

"I am pleased to hear, milord," the fox noted.

"I will retire right away," Dubhghall noted, "I do not need anything at this time. I shall go to my rooms."

"Yes, milord," the fox bowed.

"Goodnight, Torin," the wolf said, "I wish to be waken up at the usual time."

"Yes, milord," the fox said. "Have a good sleep, milord."

"Hmmm."

The wolf ascended the steps of his lair. He felt chuffed about his success in business. The whole house had been built upon this proficiency for the good deal. His money had built it. He had inherited almost nothing. His own work had made all this happen, and he enjoyed everything he had. The wolf had not had it come easy for him. He wasn't about to let it go either.

Darkness enveloped him. Not even the butler's candle glowed upstairs, the fox gone. Dubhghall relied on his lupine night vision to navigate through his rooms. He wanted to deposit his remaining gold and silver and the papers into his study. The paper written in a careful paw meant that much more hard currency would soon be placed into his coffers. He smirked at the thought again. While the weight of gold was pleasing for him, he drew amusement from the value of a simple folded piece of paper - his very name scrawled onto it to give it that worth.

Dubhghall stopped by the door into his study and began to reach for his key. It was while he sought it from his pocket that he realized the door was already open.

The wolf tensed. He knew very well he had locked it and that his servants were under strict orders not to wander in unannounced. The butler had the key but he could not imagine a situation where Torin would go in on a housekeeping matter and forget to close the door behind him. The fox was much too fastidious.

The merchant's paws clenched into fists. He was ready to fight the moment he would encounter whoever had come into his house.

The door was pushed open. He entered with a quick stride, slung low so that he could jump on anyone who might try to fight him. He was no stranger to using his claws and his teeth should the need come.

The wolf entered into further darkness, but he was not mistaken. He smelled a strange scent in the air, even more so, a stranger. The scent belonged to none of the servants, that he was sure of. This was someone else.

The sound of his entrance brought attention. He heard a vague noise, like a breath or a gasp, followed by a shuffle. He could see movement in the darkness, by the desk.

"Don'move!" he growled, low as he made his pounce.

He landed on top of something soft. There was a sigh when air escaped from lungs, a brush of air against the wolf's muzzle, and then...nothing.

Whoever it was, did not fight him.

His scowl turned into a frown. This intruder, whoever it was, was giving no resistance whatsoever. The wolf was almost...disappointed. His body thrummed with the tense energy of a scuffle, but the fight did not materialize. He was just left to tug whoever this intruder was up from the floor, along with his own panting and hissing self.

"You picked a wrong house to burglar, son..." the wolf grumbled, "I'll get Captain Eachann at ye..."

"Uuuuhhh..."

The confused reaction made him frown again. The smaller man stood between him and the desk that served as a natural barrier against the intruder escaping. Should he try to scurry, he could always press the man down to the table and pull his arms behind his back.

"What in the name of bloody hell are you doing here?" Dubhghall growled.

He got no response, despite shaking the want to be burglar.

Then his eye caught a shimmer of something, very weak in the little light from the outside the window admitted. This made the wolf's ears flicker up rapidly.

"Oh no..." he grumbled.

The intruder seemed deflated. Dubhghall pushed him away and went for the matches he knew were kept in a particular spot. The strike of the match against the side of the table lit the phosphorus and in the brief stronger flash of light he witnessed the sight of the bunny, now standing dazed by the desk.

"Bloody hell..."

The wolf put the fire into the big candle on his table, to light up the room properly. Now the full extent of the bunny's activities came clear. The drawer was open and coins had spilled onto the floor from a bag that was obviously bulging with a considerable amount of money the bunny had already stolen from the drawer.

Near his footpaw, there was a square of purple cloth and on top of it laid the perfectly cut stone.

"For the love of - "

He looked at the bunny, clad in dark leather. There was a vacant look in his eyes. The lapine's ears drooped to a degree, and he appeared completely disinterested of the fact that he had been caught in the act. He might as well have been clutching coins in his very paws.

"Good Lord Almighty!" Dubhghall grumbled.

He gave the stone another, cautious glance. The facts of the intruder's current, odd state started to become clear for him. He looked at the bunny again. The long-eared one barely blinked. He did not look like someone who had just been caught committing a very serious crime.

"Blimey..."

Dubhghall kicked the cloth over the stone. He was relatively sure he was resistant to its effects but he did not want to spend much time gazing at it. One look at the bunny told him that he must've taken a really good gander at the thing.

"Thought ye were gonna make a good thing out of it, didntja?" the wolf drawled. His more measured words became more broguish with his temper, now on the surface while facing the bunny.

He could feel coins even under his feet. He sneered.

"Come sneakin' around my place..." Dubhghall grumbled, "bastard...little arsehole thief..."

The bunny was nonplussed under the tirade of cusses from the merchant's muzzle. Whether he understood the wolf's words, the man standing in front of him wasn't even sure of. He had read about the potent effects of the stone but had not had the chance to test them on some suitable individual as of yet. Its seller had been very confident of it, but Dubhghall was nothing but cautious when it came to wondrous claims. Yet now it appeared that the purchase of the stone had not been a poor idea after all. It had bestowed some strange energy or power upon this intrusive bunny and rendered him completely...inert.

The wolf succumbed to temptation. He lifted his paw and waved it very slowly across the bunny's eyes, in the classical gesture of trying to find out if someone was still present in this world.

The bunny did not react. His dazed eyes did not come to follow the motion, nor did he even blink. He certainly did not say anything, or try to escape the clutches of the man whose property he had violated so rudely.

"Well, well..." said Dubhghall, "yer a bit of a mess aren't ye?"

The bunny looked like he'd been clubbed over the head, or alternatively, he had consumed a great deal of spirits. Yet he professed neither a welt on his head nor the odor of someone who had been indulging. That only left the option...the one that conjured up most fantastic ideas in the wolf's mind.

The wolf stroked his muzzle in thought.

"This won't do..." Dubhghall mused, "don't like your sort sneaking around my place...nay...fondling my things..."

He sounded very cross, as if the money, the house, the locks that had been picked were extensions of his own person. And in a way Dubhghall considered them as such as well. He had made his own fortune, and anyone violating it was committing a serious offense not only against his property but on him as well. The money was his and so was everything contained in this house that he called home.

He glanced at the purple cloth under which the mysterious stone formed a lump. Then the wolf looked back at the bunny, still confused and almost listless. Did he have trouble staying on his feet? He had to be a crafty sort, good on those big feet so that he could have made it into the house without anyone noticing. He couldn't imagine much getting past Torin or the Matron, for that matter. They were too keen for that.

This bunny had to be good at what he did. The clothing he wore were no rags. There were little tools lying on the floor amidst the spilled coins, probably lockpicks. Either he had made them himself or knew where to purchase them.

Dubhghall understood. The bunny was the real deal. He was a true menace.

And the wolf had inadvertently caught him, through the bunny's extreme greed, when he wanted more and more and got his paws on the stone that still rested on the floor practically at Dubhghall's own feet. Another step and he might have accidentally kicked it under the table.

"This won't do..." the wolf said aloud, more thinking than addressing the burglar, "I don' like things that go down to chance...and this was one..."

He knew that the only reason why he hadn't lost a considerable amount of money was that the bunny had become enthralled by the stone, the strange rock that he wolf had thought only to be pretty and nothing more, unless he was to believe the vague writings. Now they had been proven, more or less, and the stone's value had grown immensely.

"I don' like chances...I don' like taking them..."

The wolf chorted.

"Don' know what ye think you're doing here but yer gonna pay yer due..."

The wolf's voice fell into a growl, yet the bunny did not appear to care about the aggressive noise he just made. His natural instincts had been compromised, dazed away by the strange stone.

Dubhghall smirked.

"No fear..." he stated, "ye have reasons to fear, and ye don't..."

The wolf rumbled. He was almost smiling.

"But do ye have will left..."

Dubhghall's wickedly smart mind came up a plan, an experiment that would have been the subject of envy for all those fancy natural philosophers he heard about and had read on the newspaper.

"Raise yer paws over yer head."

This was the moment, the wolf thought. If the writings truly were correct, this would be the defining question to answer his doubts.

Obedience.

The bunny lifted his paws as he had been told to. It was the classic gesture of surrender, though the way the bunny did it, it came off as somewhat insincere. Dubhghall was not surprised. The bunny wasn't really doing it, he thought. He was simply following the order given to him by the wolf standing in front of him.

"Good," the wolf noted. "Paws down."

They fell limply to the bunny's sides and remained there. He did not attempt to use them against the wolf, or in any other defensive act.

He did not have the will, Dubhghall realized, with a sudden thrill.

He wanted to learn more.

"What is yer name?" he asked.

He wished to know if the bunny would be responsive to questioning. He was sure he could learn a great many things of interest, not the least on just how the bunny had managed to sneak into the mansion apparently without anyone noticing. He would have to improve the security accordingly.

"Cierán," the bunny said dully.

"I see..." mused the wolf. "And do you know who I am?"

He must have seen him...even if his eyes were bleary and unfocused.

"You...are...the merchant..." Cierán whispered. "Dubhghall..."

That didn't surprise the wolf. Of course the bunny had to know who he was robbing. He wouldn't have gone through all the trouble otherwise.

"That's right..." the wolf's tail swished tensely behind him," that's who you tried to steal from..."

He wondered if any thoughts were going through the bunny's mind. Could he have felt regret for doing what he did, now that it had turned out to be a complete failure? Or was he so far gone in the haze of the influence of the stone that his mind was blank and he was simply waiting...but for what?

"I don' like stealin'..." the wolf stated tersely.

The bunny did not reply.

Dubhghall grunted.

"But ye know it...and ye know that if ye go stealin' you be punished alright."

He cleared his throat. For a moment he thought the bunny's long ears jumped at that, but no...it was just a flicker of the candle on the table.

"Ye gonna have to pay, bunne...you took what ye thought you could...but nah..."

He stabbed the bunny's chest with his thumb. He did not intend to really hurt the male, but even the relatively small touch made the bunny almost stumble against the side of the desk.

"How ye think ye gonna pay?" he glared at the bunny.

The question went right past him and remained unanswered. Although the wolf knew that the strange effects of the stone were to blame for it, he still felt a surge of displeasure, even anger. The wolf was growling when he picked up a pawful of the coins that had fallen there and held them up in their gold and silver speckled glimmer, almost to the bunny's eye level.

"With these?" Dubhghall snorted.

He let them clatter down to the floor where they fell onto the carpet with dull thuds. He didn't want to make too much noise. The bunny might have sneaked into the house but he knew that he might alarm the servants, and he did not want to have Torin or the like barge in wearing only their night apparel.

He almost said "stay" for the bunny before he moved to the door again. The key that he had not needed was brought out on his paw and used to lock the door. The key slipped into the lock effortlessly. The bunny's manipulation of it had not damaged it, he found to his pleasure. That would prevent another expensive repair, if he didn't decide to invest in a better, more intricate lock to prevent a further incident of the sort.

The bunny had not moved from the spot where he had been left. Dubhghall put his key down to the table. He did not feel the need to pocket it for safekeeping for the moment. The burglar was not going to steal it now.

The wolf stepped in front of the bunny again.

"Ye don' have much," he said, "that means ye only got yerself ye can give...yer service fer me...fer as long as I have use fer ye..."

Dubhghall snorted. He wanted to clear his head of the bunny's scent, and to calm himself briefly before anything further happened.

"But that's all ye good fer...followin' orders..." the wolf grumbled, "That's what ye do...obedient lil' bunny..."

Cierán listened to this heckling without showing signs of growing upset with such mean words. He was not one to be slighted when he was himself, but now he took it without a complaint. The big wolf had no way of knowing this, of course.All he saw was someone who appeared he might start drooling at any moment.

"Git to admit that stone was a good thing to buy...cost me a bloody fortune..." the wolf muttered, "and ye proven me that it can be a useful thing to have..."

Dubhghall licked his lips.

"And just how useful...we'll see..." said the wolf, "boy..."

"Ummm..." said the bunny.

The merchant wolf brushed his paw over the rabbit's chest.

"I dun' think ye need all this anymore..." Dubhghall indicated the leather apparel the bunny wore, "I think I'm gonna help ye get all this off...wonder if I remember how. I have people do it for me y'know..."

The bunny did not resist when the big lupine paws began to tug on the ties that held the leather jerkin on. He lifted his arms most obediently when told to. Next down came the roughly woven white shirt worn under the leathers, discarded to the floor by the wolf. He admired the sight of nude bunny body for only a moment before moving his attention to the bunny's lower end. His belt and the cords on his pants were easy pickings for the wolf who was a man on a mission now.

"Maybe you'll like it, even..." the wolf snorted, and poked the bunny's belly with his thumb while he worked on the bunny's pants. "Either way..."

The bunny did not wear anything under the leather pants besides long socks that reached his knee.

"I see the so-called undergarments have not yet reached the lawless classes..." the wolf grumbled with a smirk of his own.

The drowsy bunny remained quiet despite the wolf's words. He did not appear to understand that he had suddenly lost most of his clothing and was now standing practically nude in front of the stranger.

The merchant wolf removed even the rest of the thief's apparel. He had to tug on each leg to get the bunny to step out of the pants. This left the bunny naked, standing by the fully clothed wolf.

"Now, Ciarán..." the wolf almost sneered the bunny's name out of his muzzle, "I think it's time ye started paying for the damage you made..."

Dubhghall grabbed the bunny's paws and used his own arms to turn the lapine about. Ciarán did not resist these manipulations when he was put into a new position. The wolf placed the bunny thief's paws onto the desk.

"Now you stay just like that, bunny boy..." the wolf growled into the bunny's ear.

Dubhghall clapped a paw down onto the bunny's rear. The thief's ass was quite round and firm, a show of muscles that were naturally built strong to give the bunnies their infamous ability to bounce and jump. The wolf's fingers found other benefits from this physical structure while his pads slid along the smooth fur that covered the curve of the bunny's ass. The thief's posture made it feel even more prominent. The wolf's eyes feasted on it, as much as his fingers did.

"Ye a fine lad...finer than a lass..." the wolf huffed, "prettier than one fer sure..."

He gave the bunny's rear a fond pat. The sight was growing on him quickly, much like the erection in his own breeches. The bunny's submission was arousing to the merchant, even if he knew that some dark magic had to be at work there to make the bunny behave in such a manner. The thief had made his final mistake, the wolf thought, relinquished his freedom due to his greed and was now paying.

"Don' git many pretty ones here..." Dubhghall grumbled. His fingers wound about the bunny's tail and played with its fur. "...and the pretty boys of Dublin ask for many shillings for the freedoms...don' like that at all..."

The bunny let out a sound that was akin to a hiccough.

The wolf grabbed both halves of the bunny's ass and pressed himself onto the younger male. He bit on the thief's neck scruff and let his saliva mark it through the nibble that ensued.His paws fondled the bunny's rear. Dubhghall growled, asserting his territory, physically, and with his scent.

"Much prefer this...heh...hmmh...you'll be very useful..."

The wolf imagined many good things that could come out of this whole debacle. The most immediate benefit was the way he could grind himself at the bunny trapped between the wolf and the desk.He did feel good, solid yet fluffily furred, and very intriguing for the wolf who had been without such distractions for much too long.

"Gonna make yer work...so hard..." the wolf's brogue turned menacing.

The merchant's paws gripped more insistently on the bunny's lush hips. His teeth found the rim of a surprisingly soft ear and nibbled down. Dazed or not, Ciarán let out a little yip at the sensation of the wolf's dominant bite. His body tensed up briefly.

"Yer tell me all yer secrets..." the wolf growled, "...all ye know...about everyone you know..."

The thief had never been caught before, the merchant thought victoriously. That meant he had managed to sneak into many places, likely without discovery. How many of his rivals had had their coin purses lightened by the bunny's deft paw? What secrets had he brought with him as well while going through their papers and their possessions? Dubhghall's own reputation was immaculate, and he knew nobody would suspect of him being able to get such information from someone who definitely operated on the wrong side of the law.

The potential he saw was endless. It wasn't just about what the bunny knew now but what he could find out in the future.

"...my very own spy..." the wolf announced the forbidden idea aloud and grinned at the very thought.

The bunny just blinked. He remained in the happy that he was in, where everything was beautiful and brought pleasure to him. He only had to think about the beautiful stone, how it shimmered and made him feel so wonderful.

The wolf pressed himself against the bunny's rear. His own arousal was intensely evident, but the bunny showed no real reaction to it, or the deep growl that came from the wolf's throat while he continued to incite himself into a dominant frenzy.

"Mine..."

He could see it, oh yes, possessing the bunny in all ways he could think of. The stone had taken over his mind but his body had been left for the wolf to pick.

The wolf pressed his muzzle onto the bunny's neck and inhaled again. He could already smell himself on the fluffy fur. He loved marking his prey, even if such things usually carried a hint of the thrill of discovery through familiarity. That's why his dalliances usually took place far away from his home village, and many months apart.

"Not anymore..." he said aloud.

He was not about to stick to chastity now that he had someone so pliant to grind himself into. His arousal threatened to ruin his pants, the way his cock rubbed rawly onto the cloth. That would be an interesting job for Torin, he thought, to repair his Master's trousers because of an impudent erection.

Perhaps the fox would need to polish a particular stone too, before set onto that task. Might make it much more enjoyable for both of them.

The dark thought made the wolf growl anew. The press of his body against the bunny's rear became more insistent, needy. His paws fondled the rump that was trapped in front of him. He desired to fill it, own it, and to make it his. Possessing the bunny's mind was one thing, but the body...that would be sublime in its proper way.

"I'm going to bugger yer arse till you're singing Hail Marys," the merchant dropped any pretense of propriety with the next growling remark.

His cock ached to slip into the ass he kept humping. It grew beyond temptation and into outright lust.

The merchant began to release his own belt. The bunny still appeared unaware of what was happening behind him even if he stood pinned against the wolf's desk with his bare ass more than vulnerable for anything the wolf might desire to do. For Dubhghall his desire was clear and he was not about to wait any longer.

The bunny did let out a little surprised breath when the wolf's cock slapped against his ass. Dubhghall found that particularly amusing. Even in his current stupor, the bunny could recognize a big man's cock and what that meant for him and his poor butt. The wolf's teeth flashed with lust at the thought and he gripped hard on the bunny's hips so that he could grind his now bare tool onto that rump.

He only kept it up for a moment. Although the wolf desired to jam himself up the bunny's ass in that very instant, he did not want to hurry too much. A conquest like this was to be savored, like the sound of a heavy purse of coins falling on his desk after a well accomplished trade deal.

The desk was to serve as his inspiration once again, now, when the merchant pushed the bunny further down along the tabletop so that he became practically sprawled upon it. Dubhghall eyed the sight of the now much more upturned rump with great lust. It felt splendid under his paws and had been very agreeable to hump into as well.

"Pretty arse," Dubhghall reaffirmed his opinion on the bunny butt, along with a slap.

"Uh..."

"Yer be moaning alrite..."

The wolf jammed his thumb between the halves of the bunny's fluffy ass. The grip allowed him both to finger the thief's asshole while he also got to grip and play with his rump as well. The twist of Dubhghall's wrist was all he needed to drive his fingertip against the puckered hole. Its strong twitching aroused the wolf. He was tempted to stroke his own tool while he played with the bunny, but resisted that urge.

"Patience's a good Catholic virtue don't ye agree boy?" he grunted instead.

"Oh..."

"I knew you would agree, boy," the wolf laughed.

But of course the bunny did. He was so very open to suggestion now that the mysterious stone had done its job. Whatever the wolf said, the unfortunate burglar agreed with. He didn't have to make any choices. There was only freedom, and the wolf's insistent paws.

"Heh..." Dubhghall smirked to himself. He fondled the bunny's ass eagerly. The merchant continued to play special attention to the bunny's hole. He knew what he wanted, and now that it was there, the wolf was not about to let go. He looked forward to feeling that same hole stretched and oozing with his own thick seed.

"Hnngghh..."

The idea was too arousing. The bunny was about to learn just what it meant to be caught by a big wolf with even bigger plans for him. Right now his schemes concentrated on that particular ass and what could be done with it. He enjoyed the feel of the firmness he found under the fur. The bunny had strong legs. It made for a tight rump, for the wolf to do as he pleased with. His earlier grinding on it had given him a little hint of how delightful it would feel under his loins while going at it as hard he could.

"Good slut."

The wolf knelt by his desk as if settling down on an altar. He did not face a crucifix or a Maria but instead the bunny's thighs. Dubhghall gripped the ass cheeks he had already gotten familiar with and spread them wide.

"Ouh..."

He smelled the scent of youthful masculinity, as sweet a fragrance anyone could ever produce. How could anything compare to what the bunny possessed? Sweat, musk, the sweet smell of manhood the wolf worshipped, privately, but intensely. He could even smell a hint of his own pent-up scent, from earlier when he had humped the bunny butt.

Oh yes. The beautiful, masculine secret opened in front of his eyes, a pink hole, bunny balls, an ass he craved to make his own.

The wolf's tongue was a vicious instrument, big, red and wet. He slobbered at the bunny's crack with broad strokes.

"Hrr...the pretty boys of Dublin' won' even let me do this...not even for an extra shilling..." he growled.

He went back to it. The wolf's spit soon dribbled down along the bunny's balls, snug as they were against his body. They jiggled along when Dubhghall's tongue slithered all the way down from his favorite spot and then slobbed on those bunny nuts before he made a quick return to where he wanted his tongue to be the most

"Ooohh..."

Sing all you want, thought the wolf rudely.

The same maw that had made polite small talk with the gentlefolks of the town was now engaged in eating a bunny's asshole. His whole muzzle disappeared into the thief's crack, to feast on the lewd act. The lush cheeks pressed to his own and tickled on his whiskers. Dubhghall did not mind. The dancing pucker against his tongue and lips was more than enough to make up for the itchy sensation. The taste of a young, confused male was the main perception for the merchant enjoying the rough pleasure of eating ass. The bunny was toppled over his desk and kept huffing in confusion at the feelings the wolf's rowdy tongue created. Smacking lips, fingers on ass cheeks and hips, a big tongue and gnawing lips that worked together to give Dubhghall the pleasure he craved.

He wanted to possess, and the bunny was almost there. The thief was going to know what it was like to be with a male, to be filled and fucked silly. It had been so long since Dubhghall's last visit to Dublin that he was ready to hump almost anything with a raised tail by now - given that a cock and balls were involved. The bunny did qualify, although the wolf did not pay much attention to that equipment. He just wanted to eat ass, get it wet so that he could fuck it as roughly as he wanted. The bunny boy butt felt perfect for it, tight and slippery and very hot under the touch of his tongue and lips.

The wolf kissed the bunnyhole and felt it quiver, perhaps with quiet anticipation of what was going to happen next. Dubhghall wasn't sure he knew exactly what that was, considering how out of it the bunny must've been. Perhaps the bunny would be up for answering that question as well.

For now he licked and tasted arse, and that suited the merchant well. The wolf wasn't going to be dainty now that he got the opportunity to engage in one of his favorite pastimes. The huffing and puffing bunny with his accessible anus made him very happy. He also knew the importance of relaxing and preparing his catch for the taking. The bunny was probably not used to something like this.

It only made it sweeter for the wolf.

Dubhghall was ready. He parted from the bunny's little pucker with almost a tender kiss and a lap and stood to replace his tongue with his very hard and needy cock. He slapped it into the spit-soaked crack and rubbed himself up and down in the mess he had already made before he had even started to properly breed his new bitch.

"Time to steal yer virtue!" Dubhghall announced.

And what a delight it was. He added a bit more spit to the mix by slobbering on his paw and then rubbing the mess onto his dick. He hoped it would be enough. It'd be a pity to have to leave the bunny's delicious butt behind while he went to fetch lard or ointment to use on the thief.

He suspected it was going to be a bit rough anyway.

The merchant pressed his big, ruddy cock against the bunny's hole. The teasing was now over and he was about to enjoy the true spoils of his discovery.

Cierán would learn what it really meant to serve a big wolf.

"Hngh...pretty arse..."

It felt pretty good, too. Teasing himself for a slightly longer moment might have been fun, but the wolf's patience was gone. He just wanted to get in there and explore the depths his tongue couldn't reach.

The wolf gripped the bunny's hips.

"Here, thief...take this...don't even need to steal..."

He pushed. It resulted in a brief disappointment. The bunny was both too tight and his hole was too slick, which led to the wolf's cock slipping away from his mark.

"Umph!" harrumphed the wolf. It didn't feel bad, although it was frustrating to slip away when he was so close to what he wanted. "There..."

He used his fingers to position himself again and gave another go at trying to pierce the bunny's zealous little pucker.

"Oooohh..."

"That's rite..." the wolf hissed. "Lil' bunny..."

Big wolf paws grasped bunny butt cheeks and spread them wide. The angry merchant ground his tip against the thief's hole. There was hardly any give, but the wolf was not about to give up. The bunny was not one of the rent boys of Dublin, that much was sure. One couldn't just ram in and get to work, which was something Dubhghall was used to from his past experiences in the city.

This bunny was something else. Every fraction of an inch was something to fight for. The bunny huffed, in a confused state, but the wolf kept up a flow of outright growls coming from his maw. It was hard to keep himself entirely in check, but he did not want to risk damaging the bunny, let alone alerting the others in the house. They might've been discreet but seeing their master balls deep in a strange bunny might just push even their limits of decency and loyalty to the breaking point.

At least the wolf now had a peculiar insurance in the form of the stone that still laid nearby, forgotten as of the moment. The merchant had things of greater concern, like the way the tight bunny ass lips tortured the tip of his cock.

"Goddarn tease..." huffed the wolf.

It was even hotter and more wonderful than Dubhghall had anticipated. The bunny opened up slowly, and with great effort from the wolf. He had to keep his movements slow and steady. He churned his tip in the little length of rear passage he was admitted to, moved from side to side, and continued to play with the muscles of the ass under his paws.

"Now yer gonna be a good butt boy..."

He had little to work with yet, but the wolf began to thrust. Back and forth he went, an inch or so. His tail flicked sharply behind him at the feel of the tight internal muscles clenching down on him.

"Feck..."

The lust he felt was now made even harder to bear by the sensations coming from the proper act of buggering the thief. Dubhghall's mind reaffirmed his lament on the fact that it had been much too long since he had fucked a tight arse. He was going to make up for it now. He was going to fuck the information out of the bunny, one secret at a time.

The thought was a pleasurable one, and spurned him on. He wasn't going to start interrogating the thief quite yet. For now it was enough to pin him to the desk and pump his dick into the bunny's ass. The merchant's sturdy table was already starting to creak under the exertions of the lapine rocking on top of it from the force of the wolf humping his rear.

It was hard to keep back the louder grunts of satisfaction. The buttfuck brought exquisite joy for the wolf on many levels, and he intended to take every ounce of pleasure that could be found. The inevitable slide of his dick through the thief's asshole symbolised the very taking of possession of the bunny.

The wolf found him to be prime merchandise. The little yips and the rolling of taut muscles under the duress of the fuck spurned him on.

Dubhghall pumped himself gleefully into the bunny. It grew easier while he gained further depth into his thrusts. With that came more pleasure and movement, and also noise when the speed and range allowed the merchant's balls to slap the bunny's taint.

While the wolf preferred to be hunched over his prey, at one point he lifted himself so that he could watch the dirty slide of his cock disappearing deep into the bunny's spread out ass. It was positively obscene to witness the poor bunny hole dimpling inwards and then pulling back on the outstroke, kissing onto the shaft that spread it open.

"Ye..."

Dubhghall spat a drizzle of spittle onto the juncture of dick in the ass and enjoyed the sight of the saliva frothing up with the insistent movements of his thick shaft ploughing the way through the tight grip of the bunny's rear. His paws explored the firm body while he continued to fuck insistently. The male's body brought him joy by its very feel. The bunny surely kept himself in shape so that he could perform properly as the proverbial cat burglar. Maybe the wolf would make the bunny purr like a cat once the thief learned all about getting buggered hard by a big dick.

"Good lad..." growled the wolf.

Soon he could go balls deep, just the way he liked it. The bunny had opened up enough that it was possible for him to properly pound the thief's ass as hard as he wanted. Sweaty swinging wolf balls slapped on bunny nuts when many angry red inches pumped up a hot gripping chute.

Dubhghall the merchant was not holding back anymore. If the bunny could take it, he might as well get it. He only saved up on the knot, for the moment. He'd played with the thief's hole enough to know that he would never sit right again if the wolf jammed his fleshy knot up the bunny butt to join the rest of his shaft. The feel of it rubbing the bunny's pucker and his taint was tantalizing enough, as was the sight when he spied another look.

The merchant leaned over the bunny on the desk and began to nibble on his neck. His hips did not miss a single thrust of breeding his dick into the thief. It became harder, rougher, and of course faster, the way he preferred to do it.

His knot kept pounding at the bunny's ass. The wolf grew more and more intent with the glorious act of buttfucking the thief. He intended to make the bunny into the receptacle of many of his loads of musky seed. The very first one, he knew, would be soon placed deep into the tight little hole.

"Little slut," hissed the merchant.

He bit down on the shoulder, just when the breeding instinct got the best of him. Flash of teeth and the bunny's moan, and his hot body writhing under the merchant was what it took. The wolf's tail went tense behind him and pointed to the ceiling when every muscle in his body flexed through the intense climax that was about to grip him.

The bunny got exactly what he had coming for him in the form of thick spurts of wolfseed that pumped deep inside him. The merchant hunched on top of him and made sure that every single drop would be bred as deep as it would go. His supersensitive knot pulsed against the stretched holed and did its best to make sure none of the spunk would escape from the bunny's ass despite the knot not being plugged all the way in where the wolf really wanted it to be. It was good enough for now. He barely cared while revelling in the sensations and the glory of the fuck, and the knowledge that he had dominated the bunny so completely, mesmerizing stones or not.

The huge load of cum swimming in his ass was going to be a good reminder of this, thought the wolf.

"Uh..." was all the bunny said, for the moment.

Dubhghall remained in the mount. The pleasurable tiredness had not spread to his body yet. He was still charged, panting and huffing away. The intent breathing brought in the scent in the air, musky, and definitely masculine, consisting of sweat and his cum.

There was something else, too. The wolf's nose told him that there was more to it.

"Hmmph..."

He found it curious, and investigated. The nature of the sharp scent gave him the idea to push his paw down from the bunny's hip and then to the top of his desk. His fingerpads became smeared with cum, but it was too far up on the desktop for it to be his own.

"Blimey!"

The wolf scooped up more of the bunny's seed and brought the sloppy fingers over to the thief's muzzle.

"Lick," he growled into the bunny's ear. "Ye made that mess, you clean."

The obedient bunny began to lap up on the cum that had been rudely and roughly fucked out of hm. The wolf growled.

"May have to give you another load before I decide what to do next with ya, boy..." he declared.

*

The fine merchant Dubhghall was practically purring with pleasure while drinking his afternoon tea in his office. The fine Indian brew combined with the buttered scones were a delight on his tongue and fit his craving for something dirty. The wolf wasn't one to keep himself back too much when it came to things that he really wanted.

*knock-knock*

His ears perked up modestly.

"Enter!"

It was Torin, the ever loyal butler. He bowed upon his entry into his master's den.

"Sir," the fox murmured, "There is a man calling for you, sir."

"Is that so?" the wolf's lips pursed with surprise.

"Yes, sir," the butler said, "he says he is to work for you sir, on your request. He has provided a letter of recommendation signed by yourself, sir."

Dubhghall rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmmm...yes...yes..." he mused, "that is true...during my visit to Cork, I met a splendid young chap whom might be of use running some errands for me, yes. I remember now. Do let the boy in. More tea and scones as well, I think. Must be exhausted after the long trip here.

"Yes, sir," the fox said immediately.

"And Torin," the wolf added, "make provisions for boarding him as well. There ought to be a room in the servants floor for a bunk. Or he can sleep with the stablehands, I reckon."

"Yes, sir, by all means, sir," bowed the fox.

"Good thinking, Torin!" the wolf enthused. "Off you go now, and get the young lad in. Can't keep them waiting when they are eager to work!"

"Yes, sir."

The merchant had the time to sip from his cup before the fox returned, this time with a young man in tow.

"This is...Mister Ciarán to see you, sir," said the fox.

"Please come in!" the wolf nodded courteously. "Splendid to meet you again!"

The bunny looked at the wolf before a little bow.

"Yes, sir."

"I shall fetch the refreshments, sir," the butler said.

"Please do!" the wolf told him. "And you...come sit here, young man, we have much to talk about. I must see your letter of recommendation as well."

"Yes, sir," said the bunny again.

He came over to the desk. The piece of paper was clutched on his paw. Dubhghall grabbed it and put into the desk next to his saucer.

"I presume that Torin believed the whole nonsense," he grinned. The wolf glanced at the paper he had composed only hours previously and dated several months back for the simple purpose of misleading the butler.

The bunny did not reply. This made the wolf laugh.

"Such a solemn boy," the merchant said. "I'm sure I'll have to find ways to make you speak again...or moan..."

The wolf reached very casually to pat on the bunny's butt.

"Good boy," he said, with another smirk of his own.

"Yes, sir," the bunny repeated again.

"Yes, sir," the bunny repeated again. He let out a nervous giggle at the feeling of his new master's paw playing with his rear.

"Yes..." said the wolf. "Very good boy, aren't ya?"

"Yes!" the bunny's ears flicked away.

*

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