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Alone

Saldore awoke from his slumber with a soft growl. His eyes opened and glanced around the room, trying to awaken from the dreamstate he'd been in for the last eight hours. Casting a glance to the pillow next to him, he gave a soft sigh, immediately wishing he were back in his dreams where there was someone to lay next to him. With a grunt of effort, he pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed before hopping to his feet.

Saldore was a middle-aged wolf, but was in phenomenal shape. As an ex-bodybuilder from his younger years, his definition was still noticeable, even through his thick grey coat. Standing tall at around 8 feet, and weighing a little over 300 pounds, mostly muscle, he was rather intimidating to look at. Combining that with the fact that he was the new owner of a very high-class casino, and you have a man that not many want to mess with.

To his employees, Saldore was known as a fair individual, yet not one to take any shenanigans from his employees. Due to his rather stern management, most of the people that worked in his Casino stayed out of his way, and his mere presence would cause the slackers to get to their work.

To his friends, if he had any left, Saldore was a kind-hearted, humor-loving, typical male. He loved beer, sports, and more than anything: sex. Yet, becoming the owner of The Starlounge had been rather sudden and had taken all of his time for the last couple years. Even though he'd now hired new managers that could run the place without his constant supervision, he found it hard to break himself of the habit of patrolling the colorfully-lit casino.

He winced as he pressed a button on the wall, the dark walls suddenly lightening as thick leather drapes pulled to each side of the room, revealing translucent glass that surrounded all but one wall of the room. He looked out the window from the 50th story penthouse he lived in to see the sun was just setting. This was his 'morning', however, since the majority of the casino business happened at night. And, along with morning, he was rather grumpy to admit, came the painfully hard erection he always awoke with.

While, at his age, he was rather glad to see everything was still working, using his paw was becoming too much of a hassle, and prostitutes disgusted him. Though, spending most of his time working (and making copious amounts of money), he found himself lacking any companionship, leaving him slightly down about himself.

He rolled his shoulders lazily, letting out soft growl as pain tore through both arms. It happened every 'morning'. He had long burnt-out the joints in his shoulders from weightlifting, and every time he woke up, he'd have to get them used to motion again. Walking over to his nightstand, he pressed a small red button next to a speaker.

"Yes, sir?" A male voice shot immediately from the tiny speaker.

"How's the place running tonight?" Saldore replied. Though it was a vague question, they'd gone through this plenty and the male fox on the other end knew exactly what the question meant.

"Well, sir, only 2 people called out tonight, and we've got others to cover their shift. The floor's been running fine all day. No fights, no cheating, no big winners."

Saldore nodded to himself. It was rare that everything was running so smoothly. It was a perfect night to go out on the town and live the VIP life for a bit. If only he liked partying. "I'll be taking the evening off. Please let whoever's managing tonight know." Saldore said, letting out a soft sigh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a night off. Had he ever taken a night off? What was there to take a night off for? He wasn't a fan of parties, and, in Vegas, that was about all there was to do.

He walked from the now-light bedroom into a darker room. Flipping a switch, a small heat lamp hummed to life above his head. It was just enough light that he could see his massive shower, possibly his favorite part of his penthouse. The shower was about seven feet wide, seven feet long, and sunk into the floor nearly 2 feet. Showerheads lined all around the large space, making sure whoever was within would be hit from every angle.

The large wolf turned the faucet, sliding a paw underneath one of the showerheads to test the temperature. Steaming hot. Exactly how he enjoyed it. He stepped out of his boxer-briefs, letting his rock solid, bright-red erection spring forth from its prison, giving a soft growl which gradually turned into a whimper. He needed a woman. Or a man. He wasn't picky anymore. Stepping down into the shower, he let out a content sigh, sitting in a corner and relaxing as his eyes closed, one large paw wrapping around the base of his 10-inches of wolfmeat and starting to stroke as his mind wandered.

Oh, how lovely it would be to share this shower with a cute little feline. Or perhaps another wolf. He'd heard wolf girls were rather kinky. He licked his lips, obviously liking the thought. Yes, a petite, tiny wolf girl as a pet would do him just fine. Around twenty... maybe twenty two years old. He imagined her, barely only five feet tall, looking up at him with her ears tucked back submissively, eagerly awaiting his orders. Her fur would be completely white and as silky as his bed sheets- No! Silkier. He placed his paw atop her head, slowly applying pressure. He didn't have to say a thing. She knew. She fell to her knees, which, at her height, put his thick, throbbing cock above her head. He, of course, didn't mind. He'd point his pointed canine cock downward, letting her take it inside her warm, wet maw. She'd suck it eagerly, twirling her tongue around the length, despite its powerful musky, masculine taste. Not many girls could handle the taste of wolfcock, but this one could. She'd suck and tease him until he couldn't take any more. Lifting her by the scruff of her neck, he'd slam her roughly against the wall, forcing her legs to lift and wrap around his hips. His thick meat would poke once, twice at her folds, then, with one quick jerk of his hips, be buried inside her wet tunnel. She'd cry out as his massive manhood spread her warmth like nothing ever had, but rocked her hips back against her master. He'd bury his snout in her neck, biting her roughly, though not nearly hard enough to draw blood. Simply to let her know who was in control... He'd thrust in her for a long time, taking care not to climax. He loved to screw, and wanted to make sure to draw it out for a long time. He wanted her whimpering, twitching from several orgasms before he'd finally tie with her, giving one last thrust and letting out a dominant, triumphant howl as his seed would fill her, locked inside her body by his baseball sized knot, forcing her to take his sperm deeper, deeper...

He awoke from his fantasy with a start, the hot water of the shower still cascading down upon him. Quietly, he wondered how long he'd been out, standing to his feet and casting a wary glance down at his still-rock-hard length. It would go away soon enough. His paw just simply couldn't compare to the fantasy he'd had.

He finished his shower, as usual, using plenty of richly-scented body wash to mask his naturally powerful wolfmusk. He took his time toweling off beneath the heat lamp, making sure he was good and dry before stepping back to his bedroom. The room itself was large, a massive bed, built for a massive wolf. A large couch sat turned, looking out the window and over the city of Vegas. Besides a chest-of-drawers, and one nightstand on either end of the bed, the only other item in the room was a desk, pressed against the wall with his business laptop on it. He strode over to it and sat down. Clicking through, he browsed through to his most often-visited site: A personals site for the BDSM community. He gave a soft sigh, regretting the fact he'd been dragged down enough to consider writing an internet personals ad, but he simply couldn't live with his paw anymore. He typed and typed for what seemed like hours, though never really paying attention to what he was saying. He listed his own personal desires. The need for an obedient, adorable pet. Would be paid comparably. Send replies via personal messages...

He finished with a huff, not bothering to check his work before clicking the 'submit' button. Though he felt slightly ashamed, his need to mate took precedence over his need for pride. He clicked his toe-claws on the floor as he waited. This would take a while. Probably days. With a yawn, he decided it was probably time for a nap.

Lying down on his pillow, he closed his eyes, preparing to sleep at night for the first time in a couple years of being nocturnal.

His sleep was very peaceful, dreamless, and he awoke almost six hours later feeling well-rested for the first time in a while. He rather liked this 'night off' stuff. He'd have to do it more often. Immediately, he sprung from his bed, glancing at his computer. Four new PM's! He held his breath as he clicked through each one. Hideous. He should've expected such. Not a single good reply. His heart sunk. Maybe he'd just finish off the rest of the night working in the casino...

The casino floor was lively that evening, even though it was starting to get rather late for even the gamblers. He walked from table to table, introducing himself to the patrons that weren't busy gambling and welcoming them to the Starlounge. It took his mind off his single troubles, and gave him a sense of purpose. He meandered about, nodding at the several people who greeted him, knowing him as the owner of the building. The night was pretty eventless for him. No crisis to handle, no fights to break up, and no people accused of cheating. It was one of those rare evenings where everything just seemed to work. Getting a headache from the sounds of the slot machines, Saldore decided to make his way to the lobby, introducing himself to some of the customers that were only at the Starlounge for lodging and entertainment. His ears perked at an unknown sound. Like a muffled squeak. Eyes narrowed as he glanced about the large, busy lobby. Finally shrugging it off as his mind running wild, he was about to turn back to the human he'd been speaking with, when a sudden burst of movement caught his eye. Two large males were carrying a female fur, somewhat forcefully, from the lobby. She was obviously fighting rather hard to break away, but they were large and, from behind looked like a bear and a tiger, both excessively muscular.

Kidnapping never does well for business. Saldore charged through the lobby, shouting over to the small foxboy at the counter. "Call the police. Kidnapping." Before charging out the door after them.

His heart was pounding like a thousand drums in his chest. He was getting too old for this shit. Nevertheless, he scanned quickly as he ran out into the street, narrowly catching a glimpse as the girl was pulled into an alley nearly 60 yards away. He took off, sprinting in his $5000 Virucci suit as fast as he could. He'd never run so fast in his life, and he wasn't sure he was going to make it. It would take the police at least 5 minutes to get to the casino, another 10 to figure out where the group had gone. By that time the kidnappers could have been long gone. He wasn't going to let that happen. As he turned into the dark alley, his hand instinctively ripped the .45 Beretta he always kept tucked into his suit. He saw the three at the end of the alley, some clothing already strewn about. It didn't take him long to figure out what they had planned as he watched the males set upon the nearly-naked tigress.

"Get off her now!" He bellowed. Or was it him? Adrenaline had taken over him. It was as if he was no longer in control of his own body.

The two large males jumped from the tigress, turning and backing up as they saw the massive, intimidating wolf pointing a comparatively tiny handgun towards them. Saldore moved closer. He had a decent shot, but he wasn't taking any chances. It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at the pair of males. As he'd thought, one was a bear, wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt and tattered jeans, the anarchy sign painted on the front. The other was a tiger, dressed in similarly dreg-like attire, wearing torn-up jeans with a plain white band T-shirt.

"Both of you on the ground now! The police are on their way." Saldore bellowed again. By now, his heart was racing so fast, it sounded like the engine to his 350Z convertible inside his head. But still he tried to keep his calm. Could they be packing heat? Would he be able to react fast enough if they were?

"Yo man, you ain' gotta do anythin' jus' let us go. We won' come 'round here no mo'." The tiger said, stepping towards Saldore.

"I said get on the fucking ground, you punks." Saldore boomed, clicking the safety to his gun off. He hoped with everything in his heart that they'd listen. But they didn't seem the type to. The two criminals looked at each other for a split second. Suddenly, the bear threw his hand to his belt, ripping out a concealed handgun and opening up with a series of shots.

Saldore nearly collapsed as pain tore through his chest, but kept to his feet for a couple moments as he fired three rounds. Two slammed into the bear's chest, and the third tore through the tiger's stomach. Beset by pain he'd never experienced, the world started to spin. Suddenly, everything was quiet. His world grew brighter... brighter... and then faded into nothingness.

"Clear!" Was the next thing Saldore heard, followed by the feeling of a quick, violent jolt of electricity tearing through his chest. His eyes opened. There were at least seven people standing around him. Most were dressed in white; one was dressed in light, hospital-blue. He was only conscious for a second as a mask slid over his muzzle, the calm flow of oxygen, or something else, sending him back into sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but he finally awoke with a start. He shook out of discomfort, pulling a heart-rate monitor off his finger and the oxygen mask from his face in his post-unconscious stupor.

'What the fuck had happened?' was all he could manage to think, letting his mind wander back to the last few moments of consciousness. The sound of bullets, the feeling of sharp, incredible pain in his chest. His thoughts were interrupted as a nurse charged into the room, drawn there by the steady 'beeeeeeeeeeeep' of his heart-rate monitor. She sighed in relief as she saw he was awake, and not flatlining, pushing a button on the monitor to turn off the annoying device.

"How are you feeling, sir?" She asked politely, walking to his side to check his pulse.

He couldn't help but smirk as the attractive vixen walked over and took a hold of his wrist, grinning from ear to ear, despite the incessant soreness in his chest. "Doing much better now, ma'am." He said with a hint of suggestion in his voice and offering a wink to the much-younger vixen. "Gotta say, I've never been shot before. Hurt like hell though." He continued as the nurse checked his vitals.

The nurse giggled quietly, shaking her head as she continued to run her routine diagnostics. This somewhat upset Saldore. Was she laughing at his being shot? How the hell could that be funny?

"Something funny that I don't know about?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the attractive, young vixen.

"Sorry. I don't mean to giggle. But... well... don't know how to tell you this. You weren't shot."

Saldore's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean I wasn't shot?"

"We're informed you were shot at, but I can assure you, there are no bullet holes in your body. You suffered a heart attack."

Saldore could've rammed his head through a wall. He felt his face burning in embarrassment. Here he was trying to act tough by saying he'd been shot to this attractive fox, only to have his age thrown back in his face rather violently.

"You're serious?" He asked, face drooping noticeably.

"That's a good thing, you know. If you were shot, you'd have a lot longer recovery time." The vixen said, grinning at the older wolf's embarrassment.

"Still makes me feel like a fool." He retorted, giving a soft sigh and leaning back against the low-quality hospital pillow.

"So are you feeling well enough to speak? The police wanted to speak with you as soon as you were well enough." The vixen asked, turning and messing with some of the life-support equipment.

"Oh shit... Yeah, I guess I am. What happened to the others...?" He asked, wondering if either of them had made it out alive. Not that he cared. But he'd like to know if he'd killed someone before the police came rushing in.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not at Liberty to discuss the condition of other patients." She said with a sigh, though she turned and gave him a very serious look which probably meant along the lines of 'they didn't make it'. "I'll send the police in momentarily." She said with a sigh, walking from the room. Saldore couldn't help himself, stealing a glance at her petite, slightly-curved rear as she walked from the room.

He didn't even have to wait a minute as a human woman in a professional outfit entered his room, shutting the door behind her. Since when did the hospital and police both have such attractive women in it? He blinked as the woman approached, holding a clipboard and pen.

"How're you feeling, Mr. Wolfe?" She asked politely, taking a seat at the side of his bed.

"Been better." He said truthfully, trying to keep his eyes away from her silky, white skin.

"My name is Sarah Wilkins; I'm with the Las Vegas Police Department. I just need to ask you a few questions about the events that took place. First, what do you remember of the last few minutes before your heart attack?"

He squinted, obviously thinking back. "I was in the lobby of the Starlounge... Heard some scuffle. I saw two males dragging a girl out of the casino. Eh..." He paused, his memory obviously a little hazy. "I'm pretty sure I told Kija to call the police... but I... don't..." He frowned, shaking his head.

"Kija being the fox at the front desk?" The woman asked, not seeming at all displeased with his story so far.

"Yes, Ma'am. He's a hard worker. There almost every night." Saldore replied, giving a soft nod.

"Do you remember anything after that?" She asked, disregarding his unnecessary information.

"I ran out to the street... followed them into an alley. I... I told them to get to the ground. That the police were on the way." Saldore continued. Suddenly it all seemed so vivid. As if he were watching it on film. "They stepped towards me. Asked me to let them go. Promised they'd never come around my casino again. I told them again, get on the ground, the police are on their way. One... the one on the right... he drew a gun. He shot at me. I had an incredible pain in my chest. I thought I'd been shot. I fired back. Three shots. Two at the bear, one at the tiger. Then... I... it's all blank after that." He finished, opening his eyes after his recollections.

"Do you remember what caliber your gun is?" Sarah asked, jotting down a couple notes on her clipboard.

"Sure do. It's a .45 caliber Beretta handgun. I have the concealed permit in my- err... well, it was in my jacket, wherever that is." Saldore stated. He'd had the gun forever, it seemed. Always better safe than sorry.

"Well, Mr. Saldore, I thank you for your time. I wish you a speedy recovery." The woman said suddenly as she stood up.

"Hey! Wait a second. I had a few questions myself, if you don't mind." Saldore said, narrowing his eyes. The human woman gave a nod and took her seat, waiting patiently.

"Eh... first and most important. How much trouble am I in?" He asked, toes crossed beneath the blanket. He definitely didn't want to go to jail.

"As far as I can tell, none. You had a permit to carry concealed, you used it in defense of your own life. Vigilantism is frowned upon, and we would've preferred you waited until police arrived instead of taking things into your own hands... or... paws, what have you. But your quick action could have saved that woman's life." Sarah said, giving a nod of her head. "Though I'd suggest you'd buy normal rounds for your handgun. The hollow-points are very lethal. They look bad on self-defense cases."

"What happened to the two I shot?" He asked quietly, ears tilted back. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"The bear was a drug dealer. We'd been looking for him for months. Also suspect in a couple murder cases. The first bullet you put in him went through the heart. He died instantly. The tiger was wanted for grand larceny. He made it to the hospital before dying from blood-loss." She said, folding her notebook shut. "But you didn't hear any of that from me. I'm not supposed to discuss it with you."

Saldore's eyes went wide with realization. He'd killed. Not only one person, but two. Despite them being criminals, it wasn't any consolation to him. They were living beings... and... now they weren't. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, gulping softly before speaking. "And... what about the girl they were after...?"

"Miss Seyol is fine. A little shaken up, no doubt. She's been treated for minor bruising and a couple cuts, but is otherwise fine. I believe she wanted to thank you herself as soon as I was done."

"I see... I'm glad to hear she's okay." Saldore said with a sigh of relief. It almost made killing two low-lives worth it. "Thank you very much for answering my questions, Miss Wilkins." Saldore added with a nod.

"You're very welcome. Once again, I wish you a speedy recovery, sir." She said, walking from the room gracefully, once again giving Saldore a nice view of her rump. Not quite as nice as the vixen's, but almost there...

He laid his head back into the pillow, rather tired and still incredibly sore from being shot- no, a heart attack, he had to remind himself. No sooner had he closed his eyes than he heard the door click open softly.

"H-hello...?" A nervous, soft, feminine voice called in.

"Hey." Saldore said, not bothering to open his eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to see her. If her body was anywhere near as sweet as her voice, it would make this conversation very difficult due to growing circumstances.

"Oh... umm... I..." She quieted for a moment and Saldore heard her footsteps approaching his hospital bed. "I'm Marrelle..." She said quietly, though paused as if there were something more. Saldore opened his eyes to see her hand offered out. He chuckled softly, eliciting a soft groan of pain from his chest. He took her hand softly and couldn't help but revel in how soft the fur was. He couldn't help himself. He glanced over at her and nearly had another heart attack.

She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Silky, healthy fur covered her entire body. Orange with black stripes, like most tigers. She had bright orange hair, cascading down her shoulders and glistening in the light. White, pearl-colored fur started beneath her chin and went down towards two small, petite breasts that were covered by a normal T-shirt. He was stopped from looking lower by her voice pulling him out of his trance.

"I... wanted to... well... Thank you. I-I... I don't know what they were going to do to me... and..." Her lip quivered. She looked on the point of tears. It had no doubt been a very traumatic experience for her.

"My name's Saldore." He said in as friendly of a voice as he could muster, despite a suddenly massive erection within his sheathe. With all his strength, he turned towards her, hoping to make the tent a bit less noticeable.

The tigress gulped, obviously trying to fight back tears. "I'm sorry if I'm a bit emotional... I haven't had a chance to... really... come to terms with... what was going to happen..."

"No, no. It's fine, Marrelle..." He said, trying to comfort her.

"Thank you, Saldore..." She said with a weak smile. The kind you know is always forced. "I... well, I just wanted to offer my appreciation... I... well... Here." She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a couple bills, offering them out. "I... know it's not much, but... it's really all I have..."

Saldore chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nonono. Take your money back. Trust me, I don't need it." He said, smirking at the tigress.

"Sir, p-please. I... just take it, okay? You... may have saved my life... At the very least, you saved me from..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't want to say it.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" He asked with a sigh, shaking his head. "I own the Starlounge. Trust me when I say I don't need any more money."

Marrelle suddenly drooped, taking her comparatively meager sum and tucking it back into her pocket. "Oh... well... th-thanks..." She seemed slightly embarrassed. The sum she'd offered was less than 10 minutes worth of work for the wolf, yet was no doubt a large amount of money for herself. She stood there for a moment, and, having nothing else to say, turned towards the door. "Well, thank you, Saldore... you... I can never repay you, but thank you." She strode towards the door. Saldore nearly jumped from his hospital bed.

"W-wait just a second!" He called out, immediately regretting the raising of his voice as he clutched his chest in agony.

She turned, looking back towards him with a curious expression, giving a sheepish look as he held up a finger in the universal sign for 'hold on, I'm in a lot of pain at this second.'

"I was... well... hey, I know I'm an old man and, well..." He paused. She was surely taken. Or he was too old. Maybe she was a lesbian. There was no way she'd say yes. "Maybe you'd like to repay me by letting me take you out to dinner sometime?" He said, giving a genuine smile.

Though she managed to keep her face calm, her eyes lit up with excitement. Though her voice belied her joy, she answered. "Th-that sounds wonderful! I mean... Yes. I'd be honored, Saldore." She walked back towards the hospital bed and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, taking a moment to write down her phone number on a small piece of paper by the bed.

As soon as her muzzle brushed his cheek, his length let out a painful throb, as hard as diamond from her gentle, seductive kiss. She turned towards the door once more, strolling through it and giving Saldore a wonderful view of her rump, contained inside her tight jeans with her seductive tail swaying behind her.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

He decided that she was going to be his.