FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"This, guards, is what not to do in a fight." High General Benjamin spoke, his deep voice booming over the sounds of Brenly's cheering peers. "Watch closely. Now come at me again, coyote." Brenly felt his eye begin to swell as he clumsily stood, returning to his fighting stance. Shame burned his face as he listened to his fellow guards jeer at him, and he again wondered what he'd done to annoy the general to make him decide to use him as a practice dummy. Across the wide circle from him, he watched the general wave him to strike again and Brenly huffed as he moved to enter the older man's space, feinting left and throwing a right hook. For the third time since the general had begun this sparring lesson, his strike was caught; this time the grey wolf simply twisted Brenly's arm and flipped the coyote onto his back. While the various canines around them hooted and hollered, Brenly rolled over and attempted to stand. Before making it from his paws and knees, however, the general laced his arm around the coyote's neck while looping the other under Bren's armpit and snatching him towards him. In this position, Bren's head was mashed into the sand of the sparring ring and he was caught firmly between Benjamin's legs. The general did not give him a moment of reprieve, though, lifting his legs one by one to rest on Brenly's back. The coyote gagged as Benjamin straightened his torso, which caused the grip of the wolf's arms to exert pressure on his neck and throat. "This one is known as a lion choke," Benjamin called, the cheering around the two in the circle dying down to listen. "Straightening your back pulls on their throat while keeping your legs in place keeps an opponent from struggling. This is best for restraining an opponent until submission." Taking his apparent cue, Brenly frantically pat the general's leg with his free arm, desperate to be released. As if they'd been waiting for him to struggle his fellow canine guards began to laugh before finally, all too late for Bren's ego, the general relinquished him from his grip. Brenly collapsed into a heap in the sand, panting from exertion and near-asphyxiation, his tongue lolling into the grit. After a moment the coyote rolled onto his side and was surprised to see the general offering him a paw. Taking the dark grey wolf's paw, Brenly was bodily tugged from the ground and stood, placing his paws on his knees to catch his breath. "Thank you, sir." He breathed, scraping his tongue between his teeth while spitting sand from his mouth. General Benjamin smiled at him through his predator's teeth, and a chill went down Bren's spine. "Once more, soldier. I do appreciate that you go easy for the sake of your superior officer." Brenly did his best to hide his disappointment as he answered, standing up straight and assuming his stance. "Of course, sir. I try my-!" The coyote's words were interrupted by a swift punch to his right cheek, directly below his swollen eye. Before he had the chance to retaliate, it was followed by a strike to the nose. Brenly staggered and threw a punch at the wolf's face. The general reacted swiftly, turning to move into the coyote's space. Back to stomach, the older man gripped Brenly's arm and used it to easily lever the coyote's scrawny frame up and over him before slamming the younger man onto the sandy ground. Cheering laughter echoed around the yard as Brenly stared dazedly at the sky from his new resting place, the castle's high walls crowning his vision. "And that, guards, is why you pay attention. We aim to incapacitate an unarmed opponent as quickly as possible. Separate into groups and spar for the remainder of the hour." Benjamin instructed before reaching out a paw to Brenly, who took it hesitantly. The general helped him to his feet easily, patting his shoulder approvingly. "You did a good job out there, coyote." The coyote straightened his posture and saluted the wolf, surprised at his pride for gaining the older man's praise. "Thank you, sir! But my name is Brenly Scott, sir, I-," "I'm aware of your name, coyote, but it is of no importance to me. I have duties to attend to." Benjamin interrupted, his green eyes piercing; Brenly lowered his gaze instinctively. "Go about your exercises with the others, and wipe your nose. It's bleeding." "Y-yes sir!" Bren answered, watching as the general turned and walked through the crowd. He sighed heavily and glanced around, looking for a partner in the dispersing men. That task wouldn't prove difficult, as being one of the few coyotes in the royal guard meant the canines of higher pedigree were always eager to have a bout with him to exert their dominance. Brenly wasn't sure why he'd thought for even a moment that the high general, the third prince of Siria, would be willing to have any more to do with him than punch him in the nose. The Order placed coyotes as low in the castes as it did for a reason, and he couldn't entertain a shred of doubt in that. He used the sleeve of his uniform to dab at his sore nose, pulling it away to glare at the red splotches that stained the blue fabric. As he continued gently patting at his nose, the coyote felt himself bump into another guard. Before he had the opportunity to apologize, Brenly was shoved away, the offending Great Dane glaring down at him. "You want to pay attention to where you're going, coyote?" The tall, gray-furred man asked. "Or are you wanting to do your exercises with me?" "Actually, I do think I could learn something from a superior officer," Brenly answered quickly, his tongue a quicksilver whip. His normal reaction would be to lower his head and drop his tail, to practice tolerance, but here his anger gave him arrogant confidence. "Why don't you teach me how to take a punch?" The coyote's request was answered, and the Dane's heavy fist plowed into his face, sending him sprawling. "You didn't take that one too well," the Dane taunted, standing over him. "Are you sure you can take another?" Brenly grimaced as he shakily got to his feet. He glared at the Great Dane and realized how stupid he was to challenge someone so big. The larger canine stood at least six inches taller than he did at five-eleven, while weighing at least a hundred pounds more, all of which was hard muscle if his punch was any indication. Around them, other guards were beginning to take notice. The coyote stood, wiping his now flowing nose once more on the sleeve of his uniform. Rather than show any of the fear he felt for getting himself into such an avoidable situation, he let his mouth run. "Nowhere near as good as the general's punches. I can take at least three more of those."

"Really now? I don't actually think you know who you're dealing with." The Great Dane approached, tilting his head from side to side; Brenly could hear the bones popping from where he stood. "We're about to test that theory, kah-yote." Bren grimaced at how the larger canine pronounced coyote, enunciating the word as if unfamiliar with the stresses of the syllables. Of course, Brenly knew that realistically speaking he was lucky to be standing in the first place. He was more than aware of who Dayton Ballard was and what rank he held: higher than anything Brenly could ever attain. When Dayton was within arm's reach, Brenly struck, feinting right before jabbing his fist into the Dane's stomach. The big dog let out a puff of breath in apparent surprise, his hazel eyes widening before he retaliated with a quick strike to Brenly's stomach. The scrawny coyote dropped to the ground, cradling his abdomen with his usable eye clenched shut. Brenly measured his breathing, doing his best to recover as quickly as possible, ignoring the laughs of his fellows. Above him, Dayton taunted, "That was only two, kah-yote. Looks like you're as much of a bitch as the Order says." At that, Brenly raised his head and glared at Dayton through his good eye, snarling. He seethed; the Order may have said many things about coyotes, but in no passage did it ever refer to them as bitches, and judging by the expression on the Great Dane's face, he was aware of how severe his insult was. With a mirthless smile, Dayton reached down and lifted Brenly by the collar of his uniform until they were nearly eye-to-eye. "Why don't we see if you can take that third hit, eh bitch?" Dayton asked, punctuating the insult with a snarl. Brenly's reply was a wordless glare through an eye so yellow it was almost feral; Dayton dropped the coyote into the sand with a chuckle and backed away to give him space to gather himself. When the coyote stood, he looked up to see the Great Dane in a tight fighting stance, his muscular arms in a close defensive posture; Dayton was plainly doing his best not to underestimate the coyote again. Brenly chuckled, and watched his opponent's brow raise in confusion. The coyote took a deep breath and took a much looser defensive posture. The crowd of guards watched with baited breath when the Great Dane attacked. Dayton made two strikes in succession, a swift jab to Brenly's liver and an undisguised sock to the muzzle. Despite his useless right eye, Brenly's instincts saved him as he just managed to twitch his elbow low enough to prevent the Dane's large fist from connecting and relieving him of his wind. When Dayton's fist closed the distance between itself and the area directly below Brenly's left eye socket, the coyote twisted past it and pressed his back against the Great Dane's torso, reaching to grip the man's flying arm firmly between his paws. Working with the larger canine's momentum, Bren heaved, lifting Dayton up and over him before slamming the older soldier into the ground with a breath-shaking thud. The surrounding guards were quiet for a long moment before loud hoots of laughter and wolf-whistling rang out. Brenly stared the Great Dane on the ground with no hint of pride at his victory twinkling in his eye. After a moment of drawn out panting between the two, the coyote spoke. "Pay attention when your general teaches you a throw, bitch." "Well said, Brenly Scott," A familiarly deep, booming voice called, pulling the coyote's attention to the wolf who was pushing his way through the parting crowd of men. High General Benjamin Lupin gave the coyote a small applause. "I congratulate you on the takedown of an arrogant opponent who far outclassed you." "T-thank you, sir!" Brenly replied, snapping to salute. Around him, the other guards quickly composed themselves to attention as well; his ear twitched as he heard Dayton's heavy body jumping to stand. "I appreciate your-" The coyote was cut off by a severe glare from the tall wolf, his green eyes boring into him as he scowled. "That said, Coyote, you were to be sparring, not throwing each other around like ragdolls." The general's voice took a hard edge as he reprimanded the two canines. "This heedless tomfoolery will be dealt with immediately; you both are to report to my office." Behind him, Dayton spoke, his deep voice indignant. "But sir, the coyote started it, I simply defended my honor. I feel he should be punished, not me!" Many of the crowded men gasped; Brenly, having turned to observe as the Great Dane pushed the blame onto him watched in amusement as he balked upon realizing to whom he spoke. Benjamin approached Dayton slowly and the tension the Dane felt was as palpable in the air as it was easy to see with his tail locked between his legs and his head lowered. When he stood a foot away from the slightly taller canine, Benjamin stopped and spoke evenly, glaring between Dayton and Brenly, who took an uneasy step back, smirk falling from his muzzle. "You both will report to my office or you will face relief of your positions and trial. Am I understood?" "Yes sir!" Dayton and Brenly answered in unison. From his peripheral vision, the coyote saw Dayton's glare directed in his direction and was aware that he had not made a friend. He swallowed hard as he followed behind his general. The two walked beside each other as they were led to the castle by Benjamin. The guards' wing was quickly bypassed, skirting along the outside of the tall and round concrete building. To those like Brenly the 'wing', as it was referred to by the higher canines, was a building larger than any of them could ever have imagined living in. In reality, the building was not a wing at all, but instead a tower connected to the main castle by a column-lined path and serving as both residence and armory to the castle's guards. Entering the castle was always jarring for Brenly. While the guards' tower was simple in design while near enough to match the castle it was attached to, everything about the larger compound was ornate and impregnable, offering a secure feeling that was not present elsewhere. The coyote had entered the castle before, of course, on numerous occasions, but because lower canines were assigned outside and on the grounds, while pedigrees held post inside castle walls, his opportunities for such tours were limited. Brenly was again compelled to look around and stare wide-eyed at each room and painting they passed. However, more interesting than the paintings and pillars, the statues and busts of kings and queens past were the living people. As Benjamin led them up staircases and along corridors, the trio passed canines of all shapes and sizes, though the vast majority of them were wolves. Despite this, what caught Brenly's eye the most were the slaves. Canines of all sizes, mostly mutts and even a few wolves with the odd feline here or there, all collared in the name of His Order, each regarding the prince with a slight bow. Eventually though, the general led Dayton and Brenly into his office. Brenly quickly found himself awed by the sheer number of books that rested on the well-polished shelves that lined two of the room's walls while Benjamin settled himself behind his desk, removing papers from within. From what the coyote could tell, while many of them were novels, just as many were compilations of battle tactics and theory by various lupine philosophers. Brenly was aware of Dayton's condescending glare boring into him as he glanced around, but the coyote couldn't bring himself to care about what the Great Dane thought of him any longer; he'd bested the larger canine in combat, and while the Order would not accept such a thing, they would both know who was the better. A quiet grunt was enough to bring both guards to attention, saluting the wolf that sat before them. Brenly swallowed nervously as he glanced at the polished desk and various papers that lay upon it. The things that held the coyote's interest however were the general's revolver and the copy of the Order that sat beside it, plainly well-used with variously colored bookmarks poking from between the covers; being only seven years his senior, Benjamin's lessons in the church would not have been much different from his own, albeit more thorough. Returning his wandering eyes to his general, the coyote bit his lip as Benjamin fixed the two of them with a long glare. After a long moment of silent intimidation, Benjamin spoke, spreading his paws out on the desk to gesture at the papers he'd brought out. "The two of you put on quite the show out there, you know that, right?" Dayton and Brenly both stood rigid with tails pressed between their legs as they answered with a loud "Yes sir!" The grey wolf snarled, his anger finally piercing the calm fa?ade he'd held throughout the trek to his office. "Then you're also aware that you're lucky not to be discharged for insubordination?" Brenly's answer was quick: the coyote snapped his affirmative reply while his ears splayed at the man's scolding. Dayton's reply was a moment slower, though; the coyote could see how the Dane's jaws clenched with his answer. After apparently steeling his nerves, the Great Dane addressed the general. "If we are not being discharged, sir," Dayton began, his eyes locked with Benjamin's emerald gaze. "Then what are you planning to do with us?" "That's a good question, Benjamin," The general had opened his mouth to reply, but the voice that spoke was not his. Brenly and Dayton whipped around in surprise at the newcomer's voice with guards raised before they recognized the wolf that stood before them and dropped to their knees with heads bowed. "Your majesty!" They acknowledged their king in unison. While Brenly didn't care for the Dane's high-class attitude, he had to respect his knowledge for protocol. Ignoring the guards who knelt before him as he entered his brother's office, the king continued speaking. "What do you plan to do with insubordinate officers if you aren't going to discharge them?" As he passed them, the guards stood, taking position on either side of him. Brenly glanced between the king and his general, taking in the obvious displeasure that Benjamin displayed. King Alexander held an easy smile as he questioned the younger wolf, his dark fur providing a stark contrast from his white suit. The coyote watched as Benjamin mulled over his answer, the tension of the room almost tangible. Eventually Benjamin spoke, dropping his gaze to the papers in front of him. "I was going to take disciplinary measures on them, Your Highness. But I assume you have something to ask of me that would take precedence over those matters?" "You would be correct in that assumption, Ben, but please, no need for formalities at the moment." Alexander spoke evenly. "I have a proposal of my own, though I doubt you'll be excited to hear it." Brenly had never actually seen the king in person before this impromptu visit, only having heard his voice on his family's radio or seen photographs of the regal lupine during his coronation. Despite this, as he watched the brothers' conversation unfold, he could clearly discern the differences between the two wolves that attributed to their different mothers: Benjamin's inch or so height advantage and sterner features compared to Alexander's stockier build that was well-packed into his pristine suit, Brenly's deep green eyes compared to the king's vibrant orange. Benjamin began to massage his brow, elbow atop his desk as if this was something he heard often. "What do you have in mind, Alexander?" He asked with a sigh. "I have been corresponding with the queen of Sunatra." The king answered, his expression growing serious. "We've been discussing solutions to our diplomatic issues, such as the tension on the borders." Benjamin nodded his understanding. "You told me when you began these discussions, Alexander, I'm aware." Everyone in the kingdom was aware of how many nobles found issues with how the feline queen ran her empire. Many wolves in fact were of the belief that she insulted the teachings of the Order and demanded Alexander take action. A letter had even been published on the topic the month previously. Brenly, as a former farmer from the eastern border was also aware of the issues with farmland and the reports of bandits from both sides of the border. The previous king had proposed slave trade between countries and unsurprisingly, it was a well-met solution. Now, however, many wolves believed that the Order of His Righteousness should be imposed upon all the felines, and these rumors only renewed feline hostilities. And so, as Brenly was becoming aware, Alexander had to negotiate with the queen to keep these hostilities from escalating. "I've proposed to send you to live with the queen and her sons as an act of diplomatic trust, Benjamin." The king stated, clasping his paws behind his back. Brenly's mouth nearly fell agape, and from his peripheral he could see Dayton's shock at such a proposition plainly as well. However, the real spectacle was Benjamin's response. The grey wolf sat in his chair dumbfounded for a long moment, gazing at his elder brother with a look of incomprehension spread on his stern-set features. When Alexander cleared his throat, Benjamin stood quickly, slamming his paws on the wooden surface of his desk. "I refuse, Alexander." The grey wolf spoke flatly. "You can send someone else, there are plenty of ambassadors around the country who would gladly go to stay in the North, but I refuse." "There is no discussion to be had, Benjamin. It's already been discussed with her majesty, and you are the last to know." The elder brother's response was quick and measured, and for a moment, Brenly was surprised by the king's underhandedness. Benjamin began to pace back and forth behind his desk; at this point Brenly was sure that he and Dayton had been entirely forgotten. "Alexander, Gregory and Beatrice are already in Sunatra. Why must I travel three weeks to stay with them?" Again, Alexander's answer was succinct. "Gregory and Beatrice do not live in the capital, Benjamin. Aside from that, the queen's son has lived with us for some time now. We thought it fair to practice equivalent exchange." Benjamin snapped his gaze back to Alexander, abruptly seating himself once more. "We can send him back. What does that brat do here, anyway?" "Raden Mas Susilo Tri Guntur stays with us until our kingdoms are completely at peace, Benjamin. Sending him home won't help us sign alliance accords." "But why me, Alexander?" Were it not for Brenly's better judgement, and his teachings from the Order, he would have assumed Benjamin was pleading with his brother. But of course, he knew that the Royal Lupines had no such weaknesses, and he could never guess what would cause the younger wolf to feel such a way. King Alexander Romulus Lupin approached his brother's desk and leaned upon its surface, reaching out with one paw to touch his brother's. "Beatrice has requested that she be permitted to visit upon your arrival. Your twin has missed you, brother." Benjamin sighed and moved his paw from Alexander's before glancing to Brenly and Dayton. "And what of the insubordinates?" Alexander stood upright once more and swept his sunset-gaze over the two guards who did their best to imitate saluting statues. "They will be your personal guards, Ben. If you must suffer the cold, then so must they." "All right, brother." Benjamin said, his voice sounding almost weary. "Thank you, brother. I will report to you when I'm ready to go." The king smiled, nodding to his brother and sweeping past the guards as he smoothed out the coat of his suit. Before he exited the office, he paused and addressed Benjamin once more. "I know you aren't the most social, brother, but perhaps you could find a maiden to accompany you for this extended trip." From where he stood, Brenly could see as Benjamin clenched his jaw, though he didn't speak. After a moment, the king's steps retreated and faded down the corridor. The office was quiet for a long while, during which the general stared at his copy of the Order. A sudden cough from Dayton brought the grey wolf's attention back to the guards standing rigid in his attendance, and he frowned. "Dayton Ballard, you are dismissed. I suggest you get to the guards' wing and rest well and enjoy your time here, because I intend for us to leave in three days, am I understood?" Brenly frowned in confusion, at this. Nobles rarely wanted anything to do with coyotes unless they were slaves, and for the general to be requesting an audience with Brenly without any apparent business was strange. Apparently the Great Dane's thoughts reflected his own, and he voiced his concern. "Sir? But what about the coyote?" "Brenly Scott will stay in attendance until he is dismissed, Ballard." Benjamin answered, his eyes hardening. "Am I understood?" Dayton bit his lip, and Brenly had to stop himself from smirking at the off-put expression on the Dane's face before he spoke, saluting. "Yes sir." Quickly, Dayton shuffled out of the office, making sure to nudge Brenly's shoulder when he turned. The coyote had the mind to trip the higher canine, but was quickly reminded by Benjamin's hard gaze of how close he'd come to being discharged. When Dayton's steps had faded out of even Brenly's earshot, Benjamin spoke, addressing him. "Brenly Scott, close the door and stand at attention." "Yes sir." Brenly answered, nervously complying. When he went to stand in front of the wolf's desk, he stilled his tail, doing his best not to offend his prince and general. While Brenly stood patiently in the center of the well-conditioned office, Benjamin rummaged around in the drawers of his desk before pulling out a manila folder with what appeared to be the coyote's full name written in fine script along the label. He swallowed hard. After placing the folder on the desk, the wolf clasped his paws together and rested his chin upon the bridge formed by his long fingers before leaning forward to look at Brenly inquisitively. The coyote quickly grew uncomfortable and felt himself grow hot beneath his fur and uniform as Benjamin's green gaze bore into him. After what seemed to Brenly like a long period of silence, Benjamin lifted his chin from its perch and sat back in his chair. Despite whatever reassurance he'd given himself that it would be over when the wolf explained himself, the coyote's anxiety peaked when his general spoke. "Brenly Renard Scott," Benjamin began, speaking evenly, reciting as though he'd poured over the coyote's file as much as any canine might the Order. "25 years old, the second oldest of five pups born on a farm near Roma on the eastern border. Your father got himself killed in a border skirmish when you were 12. When you were 21 you enlisted in the King's Military, assumedly for the benefits your family would garner if you became a casualty. Does that all sound correct so far, Brenly?" "Yes sir." The coyote answered, his voice flat. Despite how he controlled his voice and how his yellow eye held Benjamin's, he could not hide how his tail had tucked itself so far that it curled up between his legs. The wolf smirked, but continued. "When you were 23, you were accused by a number of your fellow soldiers of soliciting perverse and heretical behaviors with them. No superior officer garnered proof, however. Because of this, you were transferred to another battalion. Is all of this familiar?" The coyote bit his tongue to keep himself from snarling at the smug prince that sat before him. Of course it was familiar, Brenly had lived it. His father had been killed by feline bandits during a raid. He'd sucked off two of his mates in the battalion while drunk on alcohol from the feline northlands. He'd then done the same to his captain to keep himself from being officially accused and tried. As he answered, Brenly began to shift his weight from one paw to another. "Yes sir." Benjamin's grin widened as he acknowledged the coyote's discomfort, his predatory teeth aglow in the light. "You filed for transfer to the royal guard, and beyond anyone's belief, you were accepted. You've been here for a year and a half. Is that true?" "Yes sir," Brenly answered quietly. In his bleak mindset, the coyote forgot his standing. "Forgive my impatience, sir, but if I'm to be tried, I would much prefer you didn't beat around the bush." "You have broken the Order, and the church's highest laws, coyote." Benjamin stood, all signs of the almost-distraught prince gone from his features. Here stood a general who knew how to get what he wanted from those beneath him, and as he rounded the table to stand in front of the coyote, he pulled out any stops. "But you have the gall to ask of me to be lenient with the proceedings of your punishment. Is that correct?" The coyote bit his lip, averting his gaze from his generals and lowering his head. "Y-yes, sir." "And you are aware that I could have you drawn and quartered for your crimes?" Brenly's reply was barely above a whisper, and his ears splayed as the taller man circled to stand behind him. "Yes, sir." "Then you have plenty reason to submit yourself to me."

Prince and High General Benjamin Reinhardt Lupin's private quarters were larger than Brenly would ever have permitted himself to imagine for a room in any home he would own. The darkened room was decorated sparsely, though shelves lined the walls of one beyond it and books found their homes on nearly every flat surface. The coyote found himself awed that any one person could ever read so many volumes of text. While the coyote gazed around in awe, doing his best to take in every detail of the wall tapestry beside the entrance, Benjamin began to remove his uniform. The sparse light of the climbing moon poured into the windows, and cast a silver glow on the wolf as he removed his medal-laden vest and dropped it to the floor, his navy dress-shirt following soon after. "Quit your gaping, coyote, and come into the bedroom." The wolf stated flatly with a green glare, leaving a trail of clothing as he made his way through the rooms. Brenly swallowed hard and followed the grey wolf. The two canines had had little discussion since leaving the general's office, and the coyote's nerves were beginning to catch up with him. To be coerced into a relationship of amorous persuasions with the prince was not a situation he had ever expected to find himself in, nor could he reasonably extract a way for him to escape it. The coyote made his way through the series of rooms while he debated this fact, the indisputable issue that no matter how this ended, he would be the one taking the fall. When he found himself in Benjamin's bedroom, Brenly's treacherous heartbeat gave him pause and any rational thought ceased. The naked form of the prince stood cast in half shadow from the light of the moon, giving him the appearance of a sculpture equal parts silver and obsidian. The coyote swallowed hard and he felt his loins begin to stir before opting to look around the room. "The Order calls those like us treacherous, Brenly." Benjamin stated. The wolf's voice was flat, and the sound of his deep voice brought the coyote's gaze back to him. "Take off your clothes." "Yes sir," Brenly answered hesitantly. Suddenly self-conscious, the coyote's thumbs felt fat and uncoordinated as he unbuttoned his shirt before dropping it to the ground. Thankfully, his thumbs were not explicitly needed to pull his black T-shirt over his head. As he slowly undressed, Benjamin continued talking. "According to the church, we spit in the eye of His Righteousness." Tension was beginning to take root in the wolf's voice, and Brenly doubted that Benjamin was even attempting to hide it. Beyond the tension was undisguised and painful confusion. "The High King who created us damns us for who we are. Even my brother asks me to marry." Brenly stood naked before his prince and did not reply, feeling himself blush beneath his fur as his scrawny body was inspected. All the while he flushed in shame of the body that would never compare to Benjamin's, he watched the wolf's sheath thicken and his tip begin to peek from its shelter. "There is olive oil." Benjamin beckoned him with a wave and nodded to the corner-table, indicating a large flask before explaining. "No matter how obscene, masturbation is not against the law." The coyote frowned as he walked past Benjamin to inspect the jug of oil and the ladle that sat inside it. Brenly could easily smell its fusty aroma as he approached it, but took notice of the copy of the Order it stood beside. Looking back to Benjamin, he asked "What should I do with it?" "Prepare me." The answer was simple, and Brenly blushed as he gave the ladle a stir. When he was satisfied, he upturned half the spoon into his cupped paw, letting the excess fall easily back into its container. There were no words when the coyote approached Benjamin, his oily paw eagerly reaching out to grasp the wolf's peeking erection. Brenly took the wolf's cock into his paw and the wolf immediately gasped. He slowly teased the tapered tip of Benjamin's cock and coaxed out the prince's penis, inch after inch of firm member escaping the grey wolf's sheath that revealed a length and thickness sought by queens while the olive oil matted the surrounding fur. It was to Brenly's distinct surprise when Benjamin took his own member in his paw. The coyote had been unaware of his own aching hardness until that point, and he almost came immediately when the wolf gripped him. The two canines stroked each other for minutes as they stood in the pale light of the moon, Brenly quickly beginning to whine from unsuppressed need. After a bit, however, Benjamin released the coyote's aching cock and pushed Brenly's paw away from his own. "Get on the bed," He instructed, his voice once again flat. "All fours. We're doing this now." By this point, if Brenly had the will to argue about the situation before, it had been dropped along with his clothing. Obediently, the coyote climbed onto the large bed; in the back of his mind he was amazed by how soft the blankets on the large mattress were. To his left, he heard Benjamin take a deep breath, and then the mattress depressed under the wolf's weight as he climbed up behind him. The Order was a tome that was meant to guide canines of all sorts through life as a record of His Righteousness' mandates; because of that many of the laws passed by the parliament came directly from the church. It explicitly detailed the hierarchy of canines: wolves, being made in His image, were at the top and mutts were always beneath their feet. The Order spoke highly of abstinence, and so it was an important value in the kingdom of Siria. Consummation of a couple's marriage bed was to be both partners' first time so that they experienced such a thing together, and if a marriage was not consummated, it was void. That consummation was meant to be a beautiful entering into a lifelong relationship that bettered two canines. Perhaps because their mating was heretical, Brenly found that it was not as he'd come to expect from his late nights reading passages from the Order. Despite being well lubricated, Benjamin's oil-slickened cock did not push easily inside the coyote. After a small number of fumbles, the wolf gripped both himself and the base of Brenly's tail before pressing his tip hard against the coyote's opening and spearing him in one thrust. Benjamin released a gasp of pleasured bliss while Brenly barely restrained his pained bark. Benjamin thrusted hard and quickly, seeking to satisfy his primal need to tie his mate straight from the beginning. Beneath him Brenly groaned his discomfort and moaned his pleasure, the wolf's aching length pounding and stretching him. The coyote gripped the sheets with one paw and Benjamin pressed his face into the plush pillow, angling his body for a more angled push; on the first of these, Brenly saw stars. Brenly felt himself drooling into the soft fabric that held the pillow, but couldn't think clearly enough to care. He reached his free paw between himself and the surface of the bed to grip his engorged cock in his paw. The coyote's knot was fully swollen, and he swiftly stroked himself to a white-hot completion using the remaining oil on his paw, howling into the pillow. Somehow, Benjamin managed to continue for minutes longer than his coyote. The wolf thrusted with abandon, his sculpted body sweating and matting his fur while his cock slid into Brenly before being yanked from his depths. However, the wolf could not last forever, and with instinct that traced back millennia, he slammed his thick knot into its new home, eliciting a bark of pain from Bren. Benjamin leaned over his prize, biting the coyote's shoulder hard while he rode out his orgasm. According to the Order, their consummation would now be complete. When he eventually came to a panting finish, he released the coyote's now-bleeding shoulder and testily tugged at his knot, causing Brenly to whimper. "You're mine now, coyote." The wolf prince was the first and only to speak before tugging himself free and demanding they go again. "You're my bitch, coyote."