FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Weight of Submission.

© Tsumi Moogle '18

Characters © Themselves.

The rich, damp loam beneath his toes was in ways both soothing, and tormenting. Colt had been hiking for the better part of near two days, with his backpack lofted easily over his shoulders. Crafting a make-shift shelter amidst the slow fluttering tumble of leaves, reds and oranges, ambers and yellows and all sorts had kept him quite comfortable the night prior, settled under some well proped sticks.

But as the day's explorations had lead him further amidst the thick and wisened boughs of those immense trees, the hills had sloped and fallen away, the game trails of smaller creatures visible through the fresh fallen foliage.

Nature, beautiful in its ways, so far removed from the thought of city life, though he knew he'd probably have to return before too long. His food-packs were not infinite.

Glancing at his compass, the coyote lifted his head to the canopy far above. The creeping dark limbs of the tree framing and pointing to permitted glimpses through the shedding leaves. The darkening sky's normally contrasting rich blue was subdued. No. It was grey.

And a low rumble through the air brought the wirey coyote's ears perking. A storm.

He had little trouble hiking in just his fur. The cool air gave way to his insulative coat of ashen grey and moccha brown, and his own exertions kept him well warmed. Winter was a ways off yet. But rain brought with it the stinging feel of an early promise of those snowy months.

Shivering to the thought, the coyote grit his teeth with a soft curse, and pushed on. His aching legs demanding reprieve.

He ignored them soundly as he pushed on over the crest of another ridge. A cave, a copse, a nook beneath the roots of a large tree, anything that could give him better cover than the simple leaves. He'd be soaked through and filthy, if he were caught.

It seemed as though fate itself had foreseen his plight, as he glimpsed a distinctly geometric shape amidst the natural curves of the trees. The blocky shape of the cabin rounded by the well sealed logs that comprised it. The windows seemed a shade dusty, and dark, its river-stone chimney blackened about the top, but lacking any smoke.

There was no drive-way, that he could see. No truck, no tire-marks leading to, or away from it...

But as another roll of thunder growled louder overhead, Colt found himself caring little for the minutiae as he hurried his pace a little down the hill towards the doorway.

It stood taller than most doors he could think of, as he winced his way up the trio of deeper stairs leading to the levelled floor of the cabin. Leaning a pointed ear to the well-planed wood, he listened, but all that he could make out was the soft, steady patter of thick droplets of rain starting to pelt down.

The soft-ball-sized doorknob turned under his grasp, to his very great relief, and stepping inside as the patter degraded rapidly into a deluge, he shut the door behind him firmly and let his backpack thud to the cool wooden flooring, his toes curling on the coarse welcome matt within.

Was it his own gratitude for the place that permitted his exhaustion to manifest? Had he perhaps overestimated his own limits? He doubted that rather highly. But he couldn't help the soft drag of his normally springy tail as he glanced about the gloom of the cabin. The faded light of the retreating day showing little of the oversized place. A musk in the air made him frown as he stepped deeper into the place. 'Musty' people usually described abandoned places like this. Perhaps it hadn't been left long.

As he peeked in through another large doorway, the coyote's ears perked anew for the sight of the sprawling bed he found. The thick patchwork cover, lumpy, but serviced.

Colt was grateful as he crawled over it. No small plumes of dust rose to suggest disuse, but his consideration of that was well muted by the ache the softness of the bed emphasized in his own limbs.

Sinking down onto the bedding with a faint groan, his body invited him easily into the encroachment of slumber, his ankles and knees aching well, his lungs drawing in the musky scent of the bedding.

Another low thunderous growl jerk him from his slumber.

Blinking as he twitched his ears, Colt glanced about in the gloom of the unfamiliar room. A soft orange glow illuminated the dark wallls, and worn bedding, the sound of the rain had quietened, but that peel of thunder that had shocked him awake had faded instantly.

The pitch of it, his hazey mind realized as he sat up, was all wrong.

The stiff rip of plastic packaging tearing brough the coyote's form wheeling about on the bed.

Had he expected a bear? Perhaps some feral creature had nosed its way in?

He didn't feel he was far off, from the sheer size of the hulking frame standing near the doorway of the bedroom. By the way the creature's ears nearly brushed the doorframe, Colt get the distinct impression the oversized nature of the place was for this massive person in particular.. He had to be at least 8 ft tall.

Their fur was black as the night, their broad head with triangular ears over broad shoulders.. The way they stood, blotting out what the coyote recognized as a fire-place, meant all their features were cast into shadow. He could see they were of a thick build, sturdy and strong in arm, settled on two very broad digitigrade paws. The twitchy flick of their thicker brush of a tail put their species in mind.

Wolf.

Their dark eyes gleamed in the faint reflection of light from the room. Narrowed, staring with that low growl reverberating in their chest.

'And what do we have here?' Came the wolf's rich, yet soft barritone voice. Regulated, as he knew its power. In one hand, was one of the coyote's travel meals. And quite casually, the hulking lupine knocked it back, and munched lazily as the coyote scrambled to get out of the bed.

'I was out hiking, and rain was setting in and I stumbled across your house.' The coyote started quickly. He wasn't a thief, he hadn't intended on stealing anything.

'And just let yourself in, of course.' the wolf said, drawing another of those meals from the backpack, and ripping it open easily in his teeth. It followed the first without a moments hesitation.

'Those are mine!' The coyote started, stepping forward. 'I need those to get ho-'

'And that bed's mine.' The wolf's interjection steamrolled over Colt's words easily, not even needing to raise his voice. 'This house's mine. As well as anything and everything in it.'

The wolf took a slow step into the room, allowing more of the light to filter in behind him. Stepping up towards Colt, he stood over the coyote, whose ears scarcely reached his chest. The source of the familiar scent from the bed became apparent, as the wolf's thick musk suffused the air between them. His dark-fur made him hard to read, and emotion otherwise didn't seem to register in the low voice.

Swallowing, the coyote took a step back, before the wolf tugged a third meal from the backpack, and like the rest, languidly indulged himself as he stared at the coyote, silently daring him to question him.

He smirked when Colt managed not to, his lips pursed and tail flicking agitatedly.

The wolf dropped the packaging he held, and paused a moment after it crinkled on the timber floor. 'Pick that up.' the wolf uttered.

'Excuse me?' the coyote swallowed, ears perking, before the tall frame leered down, and stared him in the eyes. The unwavering gaze like iron, deep as the ocean holding his whole attention.

'I said.' Growled the wolf with a soft wrinkle of his muzzle. 'Pick. That. Up. Now.' He nearly whispered the words, but the threat in them rose by comparison.

Colt stood straight-backed, hesitant, no, resolute. Why would he pick up after someone else making a mess in their own house? He knew his stare was not intense, his gaze flitted from eye to eye, trying to find humour? A weak-spot? Wearyness?

'Now.' Repeated the wolf, with a small flash of large fangs. 'If you want to have anything left to try get home with.' His broad hand fished again, making Colt wince, and stoop slowly to collect the wrapper. Until one of the broad feet swept it back between the wolf's legs, and the coyote stooped to reach and grasp after it.

He missed the movement of shadow that was one of the immense wolf's broad feet lifting, and nudging atop his back, knocking him to his knees and pressing the coyote to his chest on the floor with no more effort than he would taking any other step.

Colt gasped and squirmed as the wolf pinned him down, and with a step that compressed his torso, contorting his gasp into a wheeze as several vertebrae popped from that broad weight mashing him down.

'Next time I tell you to do something in my house, you don't question it.' There was no chastising, just the simply display of the rules. 'You don't wait. You do it.' The wolf stepped over Colt's form, and settled on the bed, making it creak audibly.

The relaxing of the weight on his back made the coyote suck in a breath when he could find the room to.

Abruptly, that broad paw scooped under him, and nudged him roughly on his back, before the towering wolf resettled the broad sole atop the smaller frame's chest, his inky claws resting among the smaller male's soft snowy chest-fur. 'When I ask you a question, you answer me. Quickly, and honestly. Are we clear?'

Colt grit his teeth, staring up at the wolf who regarded him with little more interest than he would a rock on the path, or a curiously shaped fallen branch. The broad paw pressed threateningly, making his ribs flex again, and his teeth grit as he struggled to resist the easy display of strength. He nodded his head as avidly as he could.

The weight relaxed somewhat, though it was still a sturdy boulder on his chest.

'Words, boy. Are we clear?'

'Y-yes!' He gasped out despite the weight.

'...Yes what?' the wolf coaxed, tilting his broad head, the faintest of grins spreading over his lantern-shaped jaw.

'Y-Yes, we're clear!' Sputtered the coyote.

The paw began pressing again, and scrambling a little, Colt struggled, lifting his hands to grab at the broad leg, though for his effort, it made no difference at all. The correct response was finally wrung from him, a sputtered wheeze, a bare squeak of a noise.

'S-Sir!'

The paw, thicker than a dinner-plate, slowly lifted, and shifted over his face, broad leathery pads brushing coarsely along his features, and squeezing over his muzzle, giving him nothing but the thick masculine scent of the wolf, and the loamy, earthy tinge of the forest to breathe.

'Better.'

The coyote winced where he lay, his face held entirely under that immense sole, the toes squeezing, and occasionally curling to create a taut pocket about his features, simultaneously making his chest twitch as his ability to draw in air was sealed by the broad digits and thick pads pressing snug together.

Over him, he heard several more pointed rips of plastic, and by his hazey count, recognised that the wolf had stripped him of all his food. Giving a spasming twitch, he wheezed at a sudden drop of the massive wolf's other paw atop his trim abdominals, winding him for a moment.

'Don't move.' the immense lupine rumbled low, before he lazily picked up the backpack, considering it. Through a tiny gap in those toes, Colt stared as the cabin's owner flexed his claws, and lowering his gaze to catch his own, sank them into the taut polyester and with a slow drag, rent the pack into ribbons, with no more effort than a knife scooping warm butter.

'Since you so keenly helped yourself to my hospitality, you're going to work for it.' The wolf mused, whilst the coyote rocked between nerves and a seething annoyance. That was one a top of the line Crackline trail bag. His meals were pricey, sure, but that pack..! 'So you won't think about trying to make a premature escape. You'll get home, if you behave.' The wolf's slow words rolled through him, reverberating through those heavy paws kneading, smothering over his form.

'Now then. What's your name?'

The broad paw on his face shifted, resting beside Colt's head. The wolf's dark eyes stared down at the intruder intently.

'..Fuck you! That bag cost me over a grand, ass-hole! You can't just rip up people's stuff like tha-'

The coyote's sudden voicing of anger doused as the wolf stood, towering over him. His face never even shifting as he stepped his weight on the coyote again, forcing the air from his lungs.

'When I ask you a question, you. Answer.' the wolf growled as he twitched his tail, and shifting his weight, stepped off the coyote, turning on his other foot and stepping back on the smaller male's chest again.

Colt's eyes widened as the weight pressed like a steamroller, and despite his efforts to resist and take that compressive might, each step made him sputter out his breath, his yells reduced to bare squeaks as the wolf nudged him aside from the bed, to keep his steady prowl, every step threatening his frame, pressing muscles, flexing bones and joints.

He grit his teeth, struggling as the wolf stepped on his calves, then his thighs, every firm grinding press of those leather pads, earlier almost supple, now feeling like concrete slabs dropping atop him.

Another step up pinning his torso down, and making him fight for air, as the weight on his diaphragm kept any from filling his lungs. The Wolf's titanic weight loomed in the paw lifting over his face. Staring down, almost with a curious, contemplative gaze, the wolf could stomp down, could break him, could end him.

The paw lowered, brushing over the coyote's face whilst Colt's head spun. He felt the words more than heard them as the wolf growled.

'Kiss it.'

His pride was effortlessly rolled flat, but for the lights of pain and lack of oxygen blinking before his eyes, he still struggled to oblige, craning his neck those inches to nose at the heavy sole, and brush his lips against it.

'Like you -mean- it.' The thunder rolled, triumphant, indulgent, but still wholly reined back.

Clenching his eyes, the coyote pressed his muzzle to that broad sole, lips conforming the thick padded sole.

And as he felt blackness encroaching his consciousness, and the world began to spin, the paw over his face swept aside to plant, and the other lifted, permitting him to draw a long, sputtering cough. The cool night air stung its way down as he gulped it in gratefully, at least until his returning awareness brought with it the accute sensation of the brutal aches through his form.

Groaning gently, he rolled to one side, coughing anew and wincing up at the wolf.

That supremely relaxed gaze regarded his handiwork, before the lupine lifted his foot again.

'What's. Your. Name.' The wolf rumbled, crossing the thick arms over his chest.

'C-Colt, sir! ..M-.. My name is Colt!' the coyote whimpered through the throbbing aches of his well stomped body, swallowing, before the paw lowered once more.

'Good to meet you, Colt.' He sounded almost honest, but there was a small smirk on the wolf's face. 'It's a fitting name, all said. You're not much of a show-pony, been needing someone to bring you in line. You can call me Odin. Or Sir.'

Colt winced softly as he nodded faintly, starting to gingerly sit up, until a broad paw roughly grasped about his nape, and lifting him like he were little more than a pup, and tossed the same, onto the bed.

Bouncing, his body screamed for moving those bruised portions of himself, but his eyes fixed on Odin's frame, crawling up the bed. His mind raced to the odious thought of the massive male forcing himself upon him more carnally.. Who would even hear..?

But the thick, dark fur sank down atop him. A dark ocean wave rolling over his sandy-furred form, to press him to the matress, and burying him in the thick musk he was almost familiar with.

The weight sinking down as Odin sank down over the coyote was immense. Colt could only silently thank whatever spirit watched over the forest as the wolf's mass was spread well by the bed, but it was still like having an iron-blanket cast over him, pressing him flat in place, once more weighing his ability to breathe.

There was a thick rumble in the lupine's chest, as he settled, with Colt's pointed muzzle peeking from under one of his arms.

'Got plenty to get on top of tomorrow. Rest while you can, Colt.'

The coyote was poignantly aware it was spoken as a title, not his name.

He wasn't sure if he slept that night. The steady rhythm of Odin's breathing, and the subsequent swell and ebb of the mighty wolf's chest forced his own into a matching counter pattern, if constrained for the weigh his form lay like a massive sandbag, thick dark fur conforming over his frame.

He could make out the musculature of the woodsman wolf, strength unquestionably vast, even if the muscles were relaxed, and semi malleable. But when the wolf shifted, or twitched in his sleep, he could feel the corded musculature, like iron bands tense.

The thick weight, and the suffusing scent of the wolf permeated every half breath he was permitted to draw in. It wasn't offensive, he begrudgingly thought to himself, but it painted a picture all itself in the pitch black of the night, of the wolf through the woods, A mighty man living off the land, the tinge of autumn, of work, of woodsmoke, and more. He could see in his mind, the wolf's body in motion to earn such a scent, and glowered silently. He still needed a damned shower.

Starting awake, Colt became cognizent that he could breathe proper. The weight had lifted, and he took a shakey, but grateful lung-ful, even as his ribs ached in response to the previous night's battering. He knew nothing was broken, though his pride had taken numerous weighty hits.

He ached, certainly, and doubted that sensation would change anytime in the next day.. or two.. Or however long- No. He would get out of this. Make his way back. This, he swore to himself, before he swore to the world at large as a broad hand grasped his ankle and tugged him smooth off the bed, thudding him to the night-chilled timber flooring.

Odin stared down at him, dark as the night before, and clad in little more than sturdy, patched pants.

'Time to get up, Colt.' Again, it wasn't spat at him, but that barest inflection demoted him. Animal, not person.

The wolf's heavy feet thudded through the house, and Colt knew by virtue of lack of otherwise instruction, he was expected to follow.

The cabin housed a modest kitchen, perhaps not the most modern of things, but it seemed stocked and equipped at least for breakfast, which the wolf oversaw.

The smells in the air were quite appetizing, and the coyote was a little surprised to see that the large form had actually laden two plates, which he carried to the large and rough-hewn table.

Scrambling to get into a chair somewhat oversized for him, the coyote froze as Odin's low growl rattled him.

'You haven't earned that, boy.' came the thunderous tone, followed by the scrape of another chair being dragged out of the way. Odin stared at him, and pointed at the floor where the chair had been. 'All fours.'

'W-what? I'm not eating off the floor!' The coyote sputtered.

'You won't be eating at all if you don't get down now, Colt.' The finality in that tone said it was a promise as much as it was a threat.

Glancing from chair, to plate, to wolf, the coyote padded over, and bit his lip as he slowly sank to his knees, and then forward onto his hands, blinking as he lifted his head to watch as Odin stepped around him. The broad paws settled to his side, facing the table, and then he watched them flex with ominous recognition, a moment too late.

Pressing over his back, and settling his weight steadily, the wolf seemed to test the waters, as much as the trim coyote's mettle.

Colt's eyes widened, and then promptly scrunched shut as he tried to lock his shoulders, and square his back. He could feel that monstrous weight increasing as Odin relaxed slowly atop him, the firm globes of his ass pressing over spine and shoulder blades, with his thick tail twitching over his other side.

He had to tense his breathing, to focus his muscles. He could feel his muscles trembling, his joints creaking and muscles starting to scream anew as the massive wolf took a mouthful of food. There was the faintest tone of amusement, or perhaps pleasure in Odin's tone.

'Don't you dare drop, boy. Things'll only get worse.' He warned, though they both knew it was inevitable. It was a matter of When. Was that the wolf's point..? Was it a test? Was he somehow being arbitrarily scored on this..?

The thoughts were breif, as his body struggled to maintain its position, but despite the long hours of walking with his hiking backpack, and assorted other quality-of-life work-outs, the coyote was woefully unprepared.

His knees ached, the press of them like knives up through his legs as his shaking grew nearly violent. His hissed and puffing gasps of breath stole only snippets of air, as he shook his head anxiously.

'C-..Can't!!' He managed to wheeze, before his body agreed all together.

The instant of relief he sensed, as his arms dropped, and his legs slid out from under him was quickly engulfed in the strangled yelp as Odin's weight crashed down atop him.

Or at least partially, as the wolf caught himself with one broad arm.

'That was pathetic.' Odin growled with displeasure, slowly rising to his feet, and with a firm shove of his broad paw, slid the coyote under the table. The drag of his chair squeaked, and soon the wolf settled proper on the firm wood, to continue eating, as Colt winced, and gave himself a check over.. He questioned if his ribs would stop being bruised anytime in the next month from the battering he was receiving.. At least the wolf's own awareness had prevented any ribs from breaking.

His inspections were promptly interupted by Odin swinging one broad paw, looming the thick sole before his face. In the morning light, he could make out the rough texture of it, seeing the fur framing those thick pads.. The immensity of it, how it compressed under the intense weight.

'You want food, Colt, you're going to acknowledge how beneath my paws you are. You want to eat, you get your muzzle on my pads, and kiss. Kiss, and grovel, and dote, boy.'

The words made Colt's ears twitch and splay. The heat he felt in his face, he was certain could be attributed easily to his anger at such a crass request. ..Expectation. ..No, it was a request. He didn't have to do anything. What, was the wolf going to do? Let him starve?

'Sooner you get started, the more food you'll have left.' Came the wolf's words, as if he could hear those thoughts. The scrape of the second plate over the table bespoke the lupine's casual grace in living up to his threat.

Staring at the broad paw, the coyote shivered, he dabbed his lips with his tongue and swallowed. His resolve teetering, it was the low gurgle of his stomach that panged him, that pushed him over the edge, leaning in to press his muzzle against the thick sole.

Odin's rumble of approval was almost instantaneous. The thick pads were as coarse, yet springy as the day before. The warmth of the wolf's body on them as he nuzzled slowly, pecking against the broad pad in the middle of that dinner plate-sized paw.

'One ain't gunna cut it, boy. Toes need some love too.' Came that pointed rumble. And lifting his head slowly, the coyote grasped the broad paw, nuzzling each thick toe, kissing against the leathery pad of each in a line, before the fourth flexed to press against his lips and muzzle, near forcing its way into his lips.

Swiping over his tongue, it abated, before the toes splayed with a soft wash of Odin's thick scent.

'Tongue.' The wolf commanded. Colt hesitated, gulping anew despite himself, and gasped as the paw all but lunged over his muzzle, squeezing his face firm. 'Now.'

Past his lips, he dabbed his tongue, wincing as the wolf recognised it and eased his paw up to bare that sole to him. 'Every inch.'

Every fibre of his being recoiled, but he warred within himself. The hunger, and aches, the knowledge that he could get it over with, and avoid the almost inevitable danger of what lay beyond his innaction.

And holding the paw, he relented, grooming, and dabbing, brushing in steady, swifter lines along the thick sole. He put himself apart from the coarser texture on his tongue, the supple give of the leathery soles, the flex and tense, twist and arch of the wolf's paw as he made sure to position to let the coyote do his job.

Growling in a pleased tone, the wolf let Colt do his job, and smirked as the tongue finished cupping, and tracing the curves of his toes, his head hanging with a soft cough, and the unmissable sound of an arm brushing his muzzle.

'..That will do for this morning, boy. Tomorrow, you're doing both. Am I understood?'

Perhaps it was the overwhelmed state of mind he was in that kept the coyote from whimpering under the framing of his future duty. The thought of that broad paw lifting brought his words free.

'Y-yessir.' he gasped.

'Good, now get up and eat something. Don't need you collapsing again, today.' the wolf rumbled, and slid the coyote's partially diminished plate to another chair.

Getting shakily to his feet and arching his aching back, Colt stared at the food, and then glanced almost hesitantly at the wolf.

'...May I have a glass of water, ..Sir?'

Odin's grin widened.

Leading the way outside, Odin flicked his tail. The forest lay blanketed in a dense fog that eddied gently about the thick boughs of the silent trees. Sunlight glimmered through, yet low on the horizon, and probably not even having crested the hills that surrounded the wolf's modest nook.

The chill hung like the coalescing dew drops on Colt's form, that made him shiver a little, as the wolf fetched a broad axe, the heavy, oiled blade sheening easily as he rested it over his shoulder and began trekking up through the woods.

Staring at the sight, Colt felt an icy tendril of unease coiling in his stomach, before Odin glanced back and chuckled.

'Firewood, boy. It won't carry itself, come on.' The low tone, the ease and the shockingly human chuckle were oddly reassuring, and stepping out after the wolf, Colt fell in line.

It was a decent trekk, up and along the ridge, where the morning mist broke. Through glimpses in the trees, the duo could make out a rather handsome sunrise filling the sky with colour, as the mist through the hillocks below snaked and lazily drifted among the trees.

And when a loud 'Thock!' broke his reverie, Colt watched as the wolf began hewing into a modest sized tree. Muscles rippling under his dark pelt, as he wedged the axe, lifted and swung again.

Thick wood-chips flecked and were knocked aside before the metal's sharp bite. Methodical movements and adjustments steadily teetering the tall tree.

When it came crashing down to the warning call of the large wolf, the coyote found himself bidden to help as Odin got to business in lopping thick logs to prepare for winter.

'No rolling them, boy, carry them down.' The wolf grunted as he hefted one log aside easily for the coyote, turning to his work again. The dismissive tone, and Colt's aching back suggested why.

Hefting the wood, he gave a puffing grunt as he tried to settle the unwieldy weight on his shoulder, and balance his way down. His steps were cumbersome, but the trail was easy to follow, and before long, he found the prepared area of other logs the wolf had begun setting out to dry proper. Setting it down, he rubbed his back, and paused to look around the small area.

A glance around as the echo of the wolf's axe-swings, suggested a moment of freedom. He could run, vanish out into the woods and make his way back to civilization.

Kneading a hand over his bruised ribs, the coyote's ears splayed as he thought on the night before: The massive lupine had shredded his bag, devoured his food. His means of finding his way back were laughable, not least of all the fact that without food or carryable water, he'd probably collapse.

The cool, damp earth made its point too, as he glanced back the way he came. In the freshly rained loam, his footsteps were evident. It had been a large storm, and he questioned whether or not Odin was an avid hunter. Living this far from civilization, it was more than likely.

Though his internal voice screamed at him to run, to make his bid for freedom, to deny the wolf's control.. his tail tucked for the thought of what his captor would do when he inevitably found him. Exhaling achingly, he turned back towards the ridge, and began his way back to the larger male, the rhythmic thock of metal on wood guiding him in easily.

The work was rather slow, and he was plenty sore before the sun had risen to midday. But the tree, and one other had been reduced to a number of future kindling and fuel, and the exertions had spread warmth through the coyote's body as much as the ache had set in.

Stepping out of the house, Odin carried a large jug of water. And poured out a mug-ful for the coyote, before draining a hearty portion for himself.

Settled on the large stump that made up his chopping block, the wolf's fur sheened a little for the exertions of the day. Sunlight gleamed on the curves of his ebon-coated musculature, heat all but radiating off him as he nodded at the coyote's grateful gasp as he drained the mug in one.

'Not bad work today, Colt.' The name had a different ring to it. Something more acknowledging. The coyote halted his tail instinctive wag before it began. 'You'll be feeling it tomorrow.'

Stooping slowly, Colt sank back on his rump on the cool loamy earth, sighign as his legs appreciated the reprieve. Inclining his head faintly, he nodded a faint 'Probably.' before his nose twitched for the wolf's scent on the air.

That heady masculine scent was strong from the exertion. A clean tang, fresh as it was, strong like the wolf himself, and oddly fragrant. He sniffed a little too openly before he could catch that particular instinct.

Odin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he smirked as he leaned forward, cupping the smaller male's head with his broad mitt of a hand. Drawing Colt towards him, he pressed the coyote's cheek against the denim hugging his inner thigh, letting that warmth drift over him, and that scent fill his senses rather more pointedly.

'Think I've got something for you to feel right now, though.' The wolf mused, not quite amorously, as his free hand lazily fished the button of his pants free, and and a thumb drew the well-used zip down.

Staring as he sat, pinned by that broad hand, Colt stared incredulously at the large form slowly wedging the thick ebon slab of meat from within, curving for its own weight, but throbbing with the wolf's heartbeat, and rising steadily through a soft-on towards full-mast. The thickness of it made the Coyote's ears splay.

Tugging the underside of his pants down with a grunt, Odin groaned as he wedged a pait of fat, fuzzy balls free too, and poised, he dragged the coyote's face forward, until Colt's nose indented in the space between shaft and orbs, and his potent, unmitigated musk hit the smaller male full force.

Head spinning, Colt gasped in that musk, with his face flushing with colour. His pointed ears splayed as the rich unmitigated scent almost seared through his senses. Not bad, just rich, and mashed face-deep into those balls, it was all he could take in.

He was vaguely aware, and like thunder muted through a ceiling, felt the wolf's voice rumble far away. He managed a groggy nuzzle about the hefty, fuzzy orbs, before the thick weight of Odin's broad hands eclipsed either side of his head, and dragged him up.

'I said.' Came the wolf's short voice, fuzzy, but becoming clearer as the uncomfortable position broke the coyote's reverie. 'Get your muzzle to work, Colt.'

The dismissive tone had returned, and almost immediately, Colt cringed.

His muzzle had scarcely opened, before the broad, spongey capped-head of the wolf's immense spire surged forward in time with Odin's hands dragging the coyote's head forward.

The drag of the flavourful flesh over his tastebuds was overwhelmed by how much flesh flooded his muzzle at once.

Eyes scrunched shut as Odin created, and maintained the pace, the coyote struggled and 'glrk!'ed in shock as the large form made it clear he was intent on hilting.

He jerked, as the broad tip wedged over the back of his tongue, and his gullet spread about several inches of intruding cock.

The inherent ripple of slick flesh caused Odin's hackles to raise as he groaned pleasantly as the coyote's muzzle pressed about the base of his shaft.

Flexing his spire with a lick of his lips, he smirked as he took his time in dragging the coyote free by several inches, letting Colt suck a snippet of breath in through the sides of his lips, before thrusting forwards again, now aided by the knowledge that the Colt could take it.

Which he did, thrust after thrust, every one held by a longer, and longer pause, tip deep in the smaller male's gullet.

Waving his thick tail, the ebon wolf grinned as he watched the coyote's face contorting as he tried to regulate himself, tried to pause, or slow his need for air, tried to gasp in deeper breaths..

But every time, he struggled, eyes fluttering and scrunching, hands clenching, curling in the compacted soil, keenly aware, and hesitant of further retribution for misbehaviour.

His throat ached for the continual wedging of that fat tip, his muzzle pooling with saliva from the otherwise almost succulent, and sizeable shaft, and his lungs burned. The wolf apparently no longer just content to torture their protective caging.

His head spun, with spots of black about his vision as Odin pointedly denied him air, for spans of time encroaching untennable amounts.

'Better not spill any.' The warning voice swam in and out of focus like a tuning radio as the wolf dragged free again.

A blessed breath gasped down his gullet, the searing comparative cold a delight, a momentary clearing of his head, before the paws about his head tensed, and rammed him deep into the depths of the wolf's crotch.

Odin's fat balls tensed under his chin, drawn up firm, and like the booming howl that exploded from the massive wolf, the jets of virile seed likewise ricocheted down the coyote's throat as Colt felt his head being wrung tight between the strong, calloused handpaws. The claws gripped tight, as he scrambled again with diminished air, trying, needing desperately to draw back, and managing to slip the wolf's grasp in a moment of orgasmic-fuelled lameness.

The thick gushing warmth lathered his face, spattering his ears, his nape and back as Colt heaved for air. Coughing and bowing in place, trembling for the mingled need for air: his instinct to survive, versus his fear of the large predator.

Swallowing and still heaving, he lifted his head, to find the wolf staring down at him, with displeasure clear on his dark features.

With a hand, Odin smeared his shaft on the coyote's face, and drew up his pants.

Pushing the gasping coyote onto his back with an easy nudge of his foot, he rose, and stepped on the smaller form. A crass, rude motion, compressing Colt's gut with a twist as he moved passed his toy, uttering a low 'Stay.'

The coarse wheeze that escaped the wounded canid was the only pleading affirmative the coyote could get, shivering for the cool ground against his back, the sticky strings on his back gripping at the loose earth.

But he could breathe. For now.

Rubbing his chest, he winced, gasping softly with the aches, and abating burn of his lungs. Swallowing again to diminish the thick masculine taste of the wolf's flavour from his muzzle, he opened his eyes as the heavy, dull thuds of Odin's steps returned.

There was a fishingrod in his paw, and a hearty bucket. The wolf's broad paws moved in a slow bee-line, with the thick leathery pads pressing into the loam, looming, and compressing the coyote's chest with annoyance once more.

The titanic weight squeezing him down, made the coyote's teeth grit. His defense bolstered minimally as the other paw swung, scuffing the earthy pads along his face with frustration, before it thudded weightily over his abdominals.

The creak of bone made the coyote whimper, before the next step pressed his legs to the ground again, and the last threatened the bones of his ankles, eliciting a yelp from the smaller male as Odin kept on his way down past the cabin into the depths of the valley.

'Follow, Colt. And crawl.' came the low growl.

Wincing as he rolled aside, Colt eased onto all fours, panting gingerly and began following after Odin's heavy steps. The sight of those broad soles rising and falling, thudding heavily, obscured by the slow swish of his tail as he lead the way through the boughs. Thinning as they went, towards the damper earth near the valley's basin.

The soft bubbling sound of water lapping over and about stones was a pleasant break to his bleak aches and pains.

Glancing past the titanic frame, the coyote perked his ears for the sight of the modestly sized stream rolling its way through the forest. Glittering in the faint strips of sunlight that made it unmolested to the water's dancing, eddying surface.

'Here.' Odin pointed before him when he finally came to a stop, placing down his bucket. 'And don't you dare scare off the fish boy.' The wolf warned, as Colt crawled before the large frame.

Odin lifted a paw, and braced it on his back, leaning enough weight to make the smaller body tremble. 'Not a sound.'

Colt panted and winced, struggling to keep himself in arched position, as that weight kept steady, sending a thrumming ache up down his arms and battered legs.

Taking a calming breath, Odin curled his toes in the coyote's fur, warming them from the hugging chill of the earth. Casting his line out, he smirked faintly to himself as he felt the smaller male struggling beneath him.

Oh, he'd get him home, eventually. But before that, they had plenty more fun to indulge in, he considered.

Switching paws, he splayed his warmed toes into the soft, leafy earth, the rich, damp loam beneath and between his toes quite soothing.

--Fin.