FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

From the Desk of Mordecai Crossbell - American Division (Chapter 5)

It is time to get back on schedule, my dear prisoner. Life has been a kind of controlled chaos as of late and as such I have neglected the one thing that is most paramount to my very existence. No longer. I am finally able to get back on task and resume my hunt.

I will admit that these past years have been more than I expected. When I had learned that Simon had fled to the United States, namely New York City, I had to move a plan forward that had been on the company books by ten years. I had not planned to open a division of Crossbell Industries this early on the other side of the Atlantic, but without my economic empire I would not be nearly as potent as I was in London.

Basically, what happened was a flurry of letters, business tractions, bribes, and favours. Making sure the wheels of economics turned in my favour in America had also proven to be more difficult than back home. Their government was not one that functions with expediency in mind, and it was a lot of red tape to cut through. Thankfully, money and people in certain positions made it proceed as quickly as one could manage, but it took years.

Once I had opened up a regional branch in New York City, I then had to contend with the other business entities and established power. I had not expected such resistance to my presence; I suppose anti-British sentimentality still lingered from the days when this jewel of a continent was still a colony under the crown. My very presence probably reminded them of their former masters. I did not mind. They could hate me all they wanted.

It took more resources than I had planned to carve out my own little kingdom in this city. I had to remove those who had decided to stand in my way, either by buying their company outright or destroying them in other ways. Court cases and lawsuits and backroom deals, for example. Exhausting work indeed. I did not expect that my family name and wealth would take me no farther here. Still, it was fun to carve out my own territory without the benefit of blood to support me. What I made here in the United States was mine and mine alone, and no one would say otherwise. I was already expanding the company westward toward San Francisco. But that is not why I am writing now.

I have neglected my Simon.

I looked at the frame photo on my desk, smiling. It was from years ago, when all the pieces of my puzzle had fallen into place. My Warrior and Simon got a picture together, a rare treat for boys of their social position. I had found it in Bensley's mansion when I was getting ready to leave and had taken it with me. It was the only thing I had of the boy, but I did not care; it was enough for the time being.

I had come to this country to find him. My Warrior had told me that their plans, as whimsical and juvenile as they were, were to come to New York City when they could afford it and make a new life together.

My Warrior had told me, under no uncertain terms, that Simon would wait for him in the city for as long as he could before vanishing into the untapped wilderness of North America. However, I felt time slipping and a nagging sensation in the back of my head that told me Simon would not linger in this vast city for much longer. I had to find him soon, lest I lose my chance.

"Mr. Crossbell?" a voice across my desk said, bringing my attention back to focus.

Across from me was a new thorn in my side, but pleasant to the eyes. A rugged-looking tiger sat in a generally nice brown suit, holding a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other. He looked up from the paper briefly and tilted his head to the side. "Mr. Crossbell?" he repeated.

"My apologies," said I with a charming smile and picked up my glass of cognac, sipping it delicately. "My mind was miles away. Would you mind repeating your question, detective...?"

"Sullivan," said he, looking mildly irritated. Good. I had remembered his name but when you wanted to slightly annoy people you were dealing with, showing them they were beneath you to the point where you didn't bother remembering their name was a good place to start.

"Can you tell me more about the London murders right before you moved to the United States?"

I frowned, sitting back in my chair and looking at the ceiling. "Of course, but I do not know what more I can tell you; I believe Scotland Yard keeps documents far more official than my testimony?"

"Yes, sir. But I'm just following the procedure. My information shows that the murders were rather prolific right before you moved here, then suddenly stopped."

I coughed on my drink. An act, but convincing. "You do not think that I am...?" I left it open-ended. Let the idiot fill in the blanks himself.

"I don't know what to think, sir." The tiger shook his head while writing more information down in his notepad. "But it is surprising nonetheless, and if you can tell me something about the murders, I can clear your name."

Liar. This tiger had no authority on those murders. Scotland Yard was not looking into me, that much I had made sure of. I had been too careful, too generous with money, to let something so stupid get away from me. No, Sullivan was after me for other reasons.

Nicholas Sullivan, one of the New York Police Department's best and brightest, was a good detective and, as far as I could tell, immune to possibilities of corruption. He did not take the bribes his colleagues took and actually reported them. A good cop who insulated himself with other good cops. He was an annoyance that was rapidly turning into a problem. He had been looking into Crossbell Industries for almost two years now, going over things and people and money, and he was starting to see just how seedy my little empire could be. Nothing concrete, nothing enough to link back to me, but he was trying to scare me. I wanted to stab him through his eye, but I cleared my throat.

"I detest the sight of blood. I think I fainted the last time one of my peers broke his nose and covered his front with it. But I have always cooperated with the police of this country and will continue. Ask away."

And so we went through the questions that had been asked of me a few times now. What did I know, why did I leave? The same drab responses given. I never deviated from my story. Sullivan was going for the head a bit prematurely. He was also not an idiot, so why come to annoy me again about the murders he knew he couldn't link me to? To unsettle me? Probably. He wanted to provoke a reaction. If I did anything now it would be enough for him to keep digging and even get a warrant if he went to the right judge. This man was fun to play against.

When the questioning was done the tiger stood up and closed his notebook before slipping it into his suit jacket pocket. He looked at me warmly and smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Crossbell, for fitting me into your schedule. If you have any more information--"

"My assistant has your contact information, yes. And if I can be of any further help do feel free to call on me -- or rather, make an appointment."

Sullivan smiled and tipped his hat. "Good evening, Mr. Crossbell," he said and left with an annoying swagger. He knew he'd annoyed me. Damn it. I growled under my breath under the door closed. Was I losing my touch?

I sat at my desk and picked up one of the baubles resting on it, this being a globe, really a large marble, that had lines in it like a tiger's stripe. It was my memory of James -- I had used his stripe pattern and had this commissioned.

Without any sound my Warrior approached and took the empty cognac, instead replacing it with a martini he had made. I didn't reach for it yet but looked up at him, nodded, and said, "Thank you."

You may be wondering why I thanked someone who may as well be a tool to me. Of course he is. But you also remind those who are important to you that they are special -- it helps keep them motivated. He has also been my constant companion during this whole endeavour and has become familiar.

The Warrior stood next to me and bowed his head. Gideon, the former street wolf gang member from London. He was my masterpiece of perfection. I had found how to crack his mind open, empty its secrets, and pour in everything I wanted. It took a painstaking amount of work, trial and error. But he endured without being reduced to a completely useless invalid and became the best manservant I had ever known. If he were actually on the market, I have no doubt that Buckingham Palace would pay top price for his service -- he was that good.

Today he was dressed in his usual black suit with the silk green tie that matched my suit. His tie was supposed to always match whatever suit colour I wore. His fur had been trimmed to a handsome, respectable angle, and brushed with the finest oils. He used makeup on the scar to dull its prominence while also not being so garishly obvious. You could still see it, but now it was not the first thing someone saw when they looked at him -- it was those ruby red eyes of his.

I felt my loins stir as I looked at the man. He was standing with his back straight and his hands behind his back. He was handsome to a fault, his deep voice was wonderful to hear and the way he smelled, a hint of cedar, was intoxicating. I know why Simon loved this man so much, and I was enjoying having his plaything.

I stood up from my desk and approached the wolf, who kept his eyes locked on mine as he stood in front of me. He did not speak -- he would not unless I spoke to him first or he had something important to tell me -- but he looked warm and welcoming. He was a wonderful assistant like that; he could relax people for me when I did not have the energy to deal with their mundane idiosyncrasies.

My hands came up and cupped both sides of that face, looking at my Warrior for a moment before I pulled him in for a kiss. He submitted quickly, his muzzle turning to the side and opening, letting my rough tongue invade, coaxing and brushing across the softer muscle. I purred and held the kiss, enjoying the taste of his mouth on mine. When the kiss ended I reached down and felt his groyne. The kiss had spurned an erection from my wolf. I grinned. I loved having such an effect on him.

"Do you think this detective is someone I should be concerned about?" I asked, one hand still on his cheek, brushing through the fur with my claws.

"I think he will keep digging until he finds something to bring you to court, Master," the wolf said with a measured tone of voice. "I've done the research you requested on him, and he favours lawsuits that let him open the books of people he believes are doing criminal acts."

"So a pebble may start a landslide." My hand was now on his stomach. "Nothing we can do to persuade him to leave us alone, I imagine?"

The wolf shook his head. "He is insulated by money, since he appears to have inherited quite a large sum of money from his parents when they passed away. He has a wife and children. We could potentially kidnap them and force his hand, but..."

"But it would look like we're doing exactly that, trying to extort him to leave us alone." Again I mused aloud, my hand moving down to the wolf's belt.

"I think," the Warrior began, looking down at my hands as I had his belt open. The sound of the zipper being yanked down filling both our ears. "He may need to be handled by Jack."

I paused, briefly, about the mention of Spring Heeled Jack. I had not donned that costume since coming to New York. Firstly, I had not known the layout of the city nearly as well as London, and secondly, I did not want to let Simon know I was hunting again. He could have fled. I was actually considering changing the motief. I grinned and slipped my hand down the front of the wolf's trousers, curling my fingers around his erection. I watched as his eyes half lidded, my thumb teasing his tip, enough to coax him to start leaking pre. I stroked while we talked.

"Spring Heeled Jack would not do well here, I think." I moved my hand back and forth over the wolf member in my fingers. "But I can change the costume and the idea. This is a new country, so new possibilities await."

"What... What would you change it to, Master?" The wolf's breathing picked up a little more. His pants were now hanging down around his hips. He wore no underthings. He obeyed that rule well.

"I have been considering many ideas, and the vampire seems to be the best for this area. They are still mostly unknown and violent. The costume would only need some minor rework, and I could resume my kills with impunity. I have become bored and weary these past years just focused on business and research."

"If you hunt black foxes, like Simon, he will know what's going on... he could run." The wolf was breathing harder. I let his erection go and began to undo his jacket and shirt, tugging the tie down and tossing it to the floor. I pulled the shirt open and marvelled at the wolf's physique. He was everything I wanted in a bedmate. James had been handsome, but this Warrior was designed by an artisan. I leaned in and nipped at one of his nipples. It had been pierced by me. I heard a groan in reply.

I looked at Gideon and smirked a little. "I think I shall target the gangs this time. Work them into a frenzy, drive up the violence in the poorer districts of this city. 'Tis bound to flush out Simon for me. I am certain he is hiding in that warren of poverty. But it is more dense than I would have ever imagined, and he is very... plain, even with his eye mark. But if he thinks I'm actually out hunting like I did his little friend, he'll make a mistake."

"And be seen by our people in the area watching for someone like him. If he tries to flee the city we'll also see him. Flushing him out..." I cut off his sentence as I moved him a little, shoving him to sit on my desk.

I began to undress, pulling off my fine clothes and dropping them to the floor. Soon I was only wearing my silk button up shirt. I climbed up onto the desk, erect as my warrior, and straddled his waist. I looked down at him and brushed my fingers through his neck fur. He knew exactly what to do while I kneeled there. I watched his hand move to the desk drawer nearest him and pull out a glass phial of oil. He applied it liberally to himself, and under my tail without instruction. He knew what was about to happen.

"Will you be able to hunt your friend, my Warrior?"

I placed my hands on his shoulders as I sank down. I felt the thick wolf shaft pierce me. I did not take it slow, rather enjoying the discomfort as I settled myself right into his lap in moments. I gasped, hands gripping his shoulders as I began to relax and stretch around him. I groaned again and leaned in, kissing this wolf with my full force, pulling his head in closer and taking his muzzle.

When my body began to relax I moved. Slowly rising myself up along his length and then back down, gripping myself around his thick shaft. I grinned when our kiss broke, breathing heavy. I knew Simon and my Warrior had never slept together. They had been waiting for the right time, the right moment, and I had something my prize craved so very dearly. I imagined what It would be like for Simon to be in this position, feeling the thick wolf ploughing into me. I felt connected to Simon every time I used the wolf like this -- that this is what Simon would want and feel and I understood him a bit better. I shuddered as my penis throbbed between us. The idea that Simon and I were one... it always made me so very erect.

"I will do whatever I am ordered to do, Master," the wolf said through panting breaths, his hands loosely on my waist to keep me steady. He did not take any control. But he made sure I did not slip, fall, or hurt myself. His body was mine and I was going to use it how I saw fit. I moaned again and panted, looking down with hunger and a predatorial smirk.

"Yes, you will," I said with a chuckle. "My dear Warrior, you will bring me your friend and when he is safe here we will undo the damage he has experienced. I will have Simon as mine forever. I will show him pleasure and pain beyond measure. He will enjoy every second of it. I know he will. He and I are connected, you see." I breathed heavily, still imagining myself as Simon pleasuring myself with this wolf's body.

"Yes, Master." The wolf panted and tried to hold his breathing steady. I know he was not used to this -- I rarely let him slide into me like this, and it had been years since I was moving my body with such vigour -- but I had been aroused off and on all day, and I needed to feel like I was closer to my Simon now more than ever. This wolf, his body, his mind... he was all mine, and he was my link to Simon. In a lot of ways, my Warrior is the prototype of what I will have Simon become; a man servant of unparalleled perfection. It will be simple to cover up that white mark over his eye. I will make Simon perfect, and he will be with me until the day we both grow old and die. True, my Warrior will not see those years, but I do not need to split my attention between two willing servants. The wolf formerly known as Gideon was amazing, but still imperfect.

I wonder if I would have Simon kill this man? Who knows. But the idea enthralled me.

I still rode his body, panting, no longer capable of speech. I had my hands up on his neck and face, looking down at him with hungry eyes, telling him everything I wanted of him with just a look. I saw the faintest of nods and the wolf's head roll back, moaning.

We moved together like a well designed machine; our hips making the noise of copulation and pleasure. Our bodies sweat with the fragrance of our masculinity, and the liquids we produced poured over muscle and fur. It was the kind of pleasure most homosexual men would only imagine in their wildest dreams, if they even could.

Finally, after what felt like a wonderful week of riding that shaft, I felt the Warrior tense up and hold me. This was where I allowed him some freedom. He bucked his hips up while he held me steady, and with a deep moan and a muzzle open, biting down (gently) onto my shoulder, he came.

I cannot say that I will ever get used to the sensation of being seeded like that, the warm wetness coursing up through me. But I loved how my body forced this reaction from the wolf. I loved how his erection throbbed and poured his essence into me. It felt as though he was giving me his very life force. I moaned heavily and ground myself against the wolf's stomach and chest... and minutes later I too hit my climax, coating my wolf in my own seed.

Our bodies slowed to simple rockings and then still. I swallowed and leaned forward, the wolf holding me up and steady as I felt the wetness drip out of me. I purred in content, and chuckled. I knew, wherever Simon was, and whatever he was doing now, it was not as good as this moment that my Warrior and I shared.

When I felt strength returning I shifted my hips and looked at the man in front of me, steadying his breathing after the orgasm. "When you are able, we will shower and get back to work. We have a lot of work to do, my Warrior."

"Yes, my Master."