Wolf's Bond: Part 2
When words of a lonely dragon reach Nightfur's ears, the eager werewolf asks for the advice of one of his elders in order to track his prey down. Yet the help comes with a cost. One paid not in blood, but in freshly spilled seed.
When words of a lonely dragon reach Nightfur's ears, the eager werewolf asks for the advice of one of his elders in order to track his prey down. Yet the help comes with a cost. One paid not in blood, but in freshly spilled seed.
Story written by me , Siranor
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Wolf's Bond: Part 2
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The full moon was shining high in the sky when Nightfur returned to his village. He came alone this time, for the pup he spent his essence with had been taken by the other hunters for a task that Nightfur had performed one too many times. He would meet the pup again in a few days. But for now, Kvaresh's path was his to walk upon. As was his own.
He tried to keep his feelings buried beneath the dark fur that gave him his name, for it was unbecoming of a great hunter like him to gush over a pup he'd been with for one single quarter of a night...yet still, his heart ached for that small, stupid pup with watery seed. Especially when others were doing the very thing he yearned to. When he arrived on the fringes of the village, the smell of freshly spilled essence mixed in with the smoky flavors of spiced meat, freshly baked bread, and other edible goods. Every full moon, a feast took place under the celestial's eye unblinking gaze, and during this time, all lupine creatures, werewolves or not, were encouraged to show their devotion towards their Maker in the only way that truly mattered. By spilling the purest, most precious essence every adult male held within the furred sack that dangled beneath their plump, fuzzy sheaths. Nightfur felt his own spent member swell up within his own sheath at the appetizing smells that entered his twitching nostrils, his lips rising in response to the enticing smell of sex happening all around him. Though the whining bliss escaping between the huffs of many of his packmates caressed his ears with a sound as enticing as the sights that tempted his eyes to avert from the path ahead, the werewolf's gaze remained stern and unblinking, for the tribute to his Maker had already been paid in seed on this warm, lovely night.
"I see you are blessedly relieved from tonight's communal duties." Grayfang, a warrior a few years older than him remarked. Brazed with scars from the many battles he survived, the werewolf was anything but intimidating, gracing Nightfur with a gaze warm as the fire he warmed a fresh piece of meat by.
"Mrrhmm..." Nightfur grunted in approval, seating himself on the empty log that faced Grayfang, the only occupant of this secluded fire pit "I kissed the tip of a soft-fur tonight. A pup so green his essence had yet to thicken within the fruits he bears under the sheath I marked. Hunt, he shall. Eat, he will. Marked by many more cocks, he will be as he returns from the hunt as one of The Pack."
"Concern for pup brews within you like essence inside our balls, yet I yearn to witness some of your own needs, Nightfur. Tell me. What is _your_desire?"
Nightfur dared to look upon the orgy happening all around him at the many more fire pits built for such a debauched purpose. No veil shadowed the raunchy happenings from his gaze, for within his Pack, mating with your own kin, be they male or female, wolves or something different, was as natural as eating or drinking. And the sharing of essence, the truest expression of trust and affection.
"Hrrr...big. Something BIG!" the black werewolf snarled at the sight of a direwolf -not unlike his own partner- splattering his essence upon the huffing face of sheath-worshipping gray wolf. "What I want...what I need...is to forge a bond with the greatest predator within these lands before my pup returns from his hunt as One of The Pack."
"Mrrrh...worthy goal for a worthy wolf." Grayfang grunted, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Runa's heat attracted the attention of a Shardtooth bear. A dangerous animal that favors cunt over cock. Should any wolf attempt to tame that beast, it shall make great challenge! Greater than marking the direwolf you bonded with."
The notion failed to stir Nightfur's interest. "Nrrrh, bear, I had. What I thirst for...is to taste the entrance of a dragon with the tip of my own cock. A worthy one whose cock pierced many mates!"
"Harrr," Grayfang growled in glee, "then tonight is truly a blessed night! Up. Up! Rise before the moon surrenders the sky to the morning sun!"
Nightfur felt confused. "You...caught sighting of one? Within our Packland?"
"The Packlord already took note of your yearnings, wolf." Grayfang's confident grip on his shoulder stirred Nightfur's interest even further. "Just a few days ago I have smelled the markings of a mature male. My hunters tracked him to Gaur's Hollow, where the beast likely now rests. Grayfang will track this creature down now. Test mettle. If dangerous, dragon better left alone."
Some of his fellow werewolf's words were lost to Nightfur. Why, he did not need to find the dragon. His mind was already there, with him...or rather, under him. Imagining himself as a stealthy stalker skulking inside the sleeping hollow of his prey, Nightfur envision himself as a conqueror already. He took a deep breath from the dragon's scent, and snarled, for the scent he breathed through his nostrils felt so alive, so powerful, more arousing than anything his oozing nose ever experienced up to that point. With no thoughts given to the stupidity of his next move, he shoved more than a third of his muzzle inside that sloppy shelter of flesh that cradled the dragon's hidden cock and began savoring the dragon's intoxicating taste straight from the source, the silkiness of his sheath walls and the heat of it so enrapturing that his own member began to come alive through a series of intense, repeated throbs.
He whimpered as heat descended upon the naked tip of his cock. Lost in his fantasy, his dreamy mind conjured images of the dragon's curious snout testing the scents of the werewolf's own sheath upon the tip of his forked tongue...yet the truth revealed itself to him once a growl unlike anything a dragon could produce snapped Nightfur back to the present. Back to the sounds and smell of sex happening all around him. Back to the fire that burned in front of his eyes...
Back to the scarred muzzle poking its tongue out to wash away the silky pre gathering upon the tip of Nightfur's increasingly redder cock.
"Scent...strong. Worthy of joining my hunters on dangerous quest." Grayfang gently broke contact with the tip he so carefully tasted. "We should couple tonight. Gain the Packlord's favor by honoring him with our essence."
"And tomorrow?" Nightfur inquired, noting the reflection of the fire's light upon the slick surface of Grayfang's own emerging cock tip. "Is Nightfur welcome in your pack?"
The werewolf had no words, only a solemn, growly sigh. "At night, we couple. During day, we hunt. You know our ways, Nightfur."
"Hrrrff...the ways of the spear...still unknown to me. But my nose is sharper than any arrow. Bring along, and I vow before the Packlord's eyes that I can track better than any other hunter."
"Rustpelt tracked for me before my fur turned gray." Grayfang shook his head.
"Then hunt, I shall. Provide meat for our journey!" Nightfur desperately insisted, only for his plea to summon a similar reaction. "Hunters, grah. Even the pup whose sheath you filled can call himself such."
"There's something I can do."
"Mrrh...spill essence. Here. Under Packlord's unblinking gaze. But with us, we cannot take you."
Nightfur's fur bristled with anger as hot as the seed welling within his warm balls. He couldn't stay here while other werewolves tracked down the dragon haunting his warmest and wettest of fantasies!
Without even thinking of the implications of his actions, he tackled the older werewolf to the ground next to the steadily burning fire, forcing his back against the warm ground and his lips over his aged yellow fangs. He growled his challenge...He got an equal growl in return. Together, the two males wrestled by the fire in an attempt to gain leverage over the other, yet experience trumped over youth, and Nightfur quickly found himself under the stronger warrior's piercing gaze, his needy, swollen sheath shuddering under the weight applied against it by the other male's equally tense genitals.
"Grarrrrhhh! You got my blood warm...pup!"
"I am no pup!" Nightfur growled in anger.
"You are to me!" A sharp snarl lashed the confidence from Nightfur's features. "Nightfur not the first pup to mistake gray for weakness! I may be past my prime, but I still bear strength in my arms and quick seed in my balls! Test me further...and pup will see this old wolf still has some teeth."
Grayfang paused for a moment. His snarl lessened, his perked ears relaxed somewhat, and his tail wagged just a bit. He must've realized just how delightfully compromising this position was for him. Tip to tip, shaft to shaft, knot to knot, balls to balls with another werewolf yearning to spill his life giving essence...
"If Nightfur wants to come, he has to prove himself. Provide something more than the seed held captive within this...harrr...delightfully hard knot."
The grip of the warm padded hand around his most sensitive of places made Nightfur yowl with a submissive whimper. "I can track." He licked the older werewolf's muzzle quickly and eagerly, as he would a partner before a mating. "Rustpelt had seasons. I had my entire life. This dragon shall not elude me. On the Packlord's life-giving seed, that I vow."
That seemed to put Grayfang at ease, somewhat. "Agreed," he said as he pumped his grip around Nightfur's knot as if he wished to see if his captive prey would surrender his essence as easily as he lost this battle. "|But Packlord as my witness, none of my hunters shall suffer the effects of your folly. We go alone. That is the nature of this hunt."
Though slithering fear dispelled some of the unshackled arousal created by the firm squeezes around his knot, Nightfur accepted the challenge with a vehement thrust that told Grayfang everything he needed. Yes. Wild dragons could be very dangerous. Something only a party of dozens could intimidate. But his knot felt too hard, his balls too full, his cock too wet, and his tongue, too eager to sample the taste of such a powerful beast.
By the Packlord's graces, he would find a way to tame the dragon's fire. No greater certainty arose from that one, singular desire to pay his respects to the Packlord than by seeding a virile dragon's sheath with his own bountiful seed.
Nightfur slept well that night, for before the sun even had a chance to light up the horizon with the lighter blues of the early morning, the two of them were already underway, trudging their way across the heavily forested areas of their home valley. Gaur's Hollow, believed to be one of the Packlord's many dens, proved deceptively difficult to reach within a day's walk. It was secluded in the eastern range of the fertile mountains, at an altitude that required at least half a day of climbing. And, in spite of his boastful words, Nightfur's navigation was not the sharpest when the sun spent its time behind the clouds for the better part of the day. Much to his annoyance, he yielded to Grayfang's wisdom, and the two sought shelter in a safer place before night caught them in a forest filled with greater predators than them.
"Perhaps Nightfur's skills reside in the spearing of his prey's sheath more than its tracking. Am not keen on dining on stone and clay." The older werewolf grabbed one of the empty pots left around the abandoned burrow they secluded themselves in. Dug into the earth by those that came before, it served to safeguard a hunting party of four from threats they could not easily defend themselves against out in the open. It was an oasis of tranquility. One that, much to their regret, held nothing much in the ways of dried meat, bread, or fruit.
While the older werewolf busied himself rearranging the twigs making the frame of his furred bed for the long night lurking ahead, Nightfur retaliated with a somewhat weak but obvious remark, declaring himself a better spiller of seed.
Such impetuous remark got exactly the sort of reply Nightfur expected. In seconds, Grayfang was upon him, warm padded hand firmly yet not entirely painfully squeezed around Nightfur's exposed sack
"Are you now?" The senior werewolf snarled. "Many have made bold claims. Wolves with...fuller stones than yours."
"Rrraaahhh, try my knot. See if you find it as soft as my balls."
Grayfang took a deep breath. "If that is so, then I, Grayfang, Son of StormClaw the second, Challenge Nightfur of the Night Sky to the Packlord's sacred Bonding. We shall be as one under His gaze, and if the stream of your leaking essence prove greater than mine, I shall accept your claims."
"Squeeze above...and see bold claims turned to proof wet as the rain pouring from storm."
The somewhat bold challenge led into a wrestling match much fiercer than the one on the eve of this journey, with growls, grabs, snarls and bites that would've terrified any non-lupine creature in the vicinity. To any unknowledgeable eye, it seemed like the two males fought for their very lives! Yet to them, this contest had far greater meaning than the inflicting of superficial injuries. Only one of their own would've recognized the passion behind the aggressive displays of teeth...the lust brewing beneath their ruffled fur...or the passion growing within their plump gonads one silent throb at a time...For once their genitals found themselves pressed again in warm embrace, safely tucked beneath layers of warm fur, the snarls turned soft, and the growls dimmed into long, huffing whimpers.
They kissed, more than once, while their plump sheaths rubbed together on and on through gentle thrusts in the violent if not organized rhythm of their thrusting, for no werewolf denied the other of the opportunity to retaliate with a stronger thrust or a wetter kiss.
No words had to be said. None really needed voicing. Not when their perfectly lined sheath lips allowed the mutually wet tips of the ruddy cocks freshly spilled out in the passion of this contest to meet in the same exhilarating embrace as their lapping tongues often did. Nightfur spilled his first squirt, his aqueous pre soaking into the cock home of the older wolf, eliciting a snarl of passion from the scarred muzzle wet with the effects of their passions.
"You smell just like a pup I bonded with in my youth. So...rich. So full of life. Mrrrahhh! I must have you, wolf. Must...thrust myself deep in the sheath that spilled forth such appetizing member until my balls ache with the need of release!"
"Try so...wolf." Nightfur challenged, pulling back gently to break off the string of precum that tied their tips together.
"Not in this cramped excuse of a den." Grayfang muttered, dripping down there with eagerness. "If we are to bond tonight, we shall do so under the Packlord's all-seeing Eye."
As soon as they emerged from their shelter, the pair renewed their games of dominance once more. They rolled around in the grass, biting at each other's necks and keeping their sheath lips locked as much as opportunity permitted. That ensured their growing tips pressed together at all times, that none of that sacred precum would fall to waste on the cold, thirsty ground.
Eventually, the lust pushed Nightfur out of his area of control. With one single hungry thrust, the younger wolf thrust his drippy, aching tip deep inside the larger sheath of his brethren...deeper than he had ever been before.
Deep enough to touch Grayfang's concealed knot with the sacred tip of his sensitive cock.
"Mrrarrrhh...that was...good thrust." The older wolf admitted with a toothy smirk, sheath dripping with precum freshly spilled within its depths. "You are skilled in the use of the flesh-spear, as spoken." As he spoke, Grayfang thrust himself against Nightfur's cock to relish the sensation of a filled sheath. His pocket of flesh looked quite full, stuffed with another wolf's meat. And it dripped. Heavily so. "I shall allow a deeper filling..." He continued, "but I shall do so before the words of our ancestors are brought back to life. Wisdom comes before passion, as is befit of wolves my age. I am pup no longer, hrrr...even if my cock still stirs at the touch of another male so deep inside of me."
He had the right of it. Within the soaked halls of the nest of flesh he found himself in resided the expertise of one that participated in this ritual far too many times, and Nightfur, much as he wished to thrust himself even deeper, possibly deep enough to knot the stretchy sheath of his packmate, ultimately allowed Grayfang to have it his way. There was, after all, much to enjoy about the recounting of the primordial rules of this ritual. They got up, tied at their sheaths, and walked a bit towards the precipice of the mountain side they made their den on. Sheath to sheath, they remained together until they found a clearing wide enough to let the moon's blessed light fall upon them. Then, they embraced and settled back on the ground together with their sheaths still mashed together in blissful union.
The most important part of the ritual was about to begin, which also happened to be the one Nightfur enjoyed the most. The two began to grind their tips against each other, huffing with soft, murmured growls. Just as the Packlord first spilled life upon the lands when the world was young, cock pressed against the crust of the earth, so must the joined tips of two werewolves remain together when release would come.
Nightfur knew that. Every werewolf born into the Pack did. What his knowledge failed to assimilate were the prayers chanted by the shamans during this ritual. He knew but a few, while Grayfang's wisdom flowed like a gorged river down the mountain. As he began reciting verses as old as their Pack under their whispering breaths, the two werewolves slowly began to do what the chants described. It began with the aligning of their sheaths, lips twined, tips mated, urethras pressed in warm, gentle kiss for one long, exhilarating moment, for more than just a simple touch was shared. This intimate connection wrapped their entire bodies within its fuzzy embrace, allowing their tongues to taste more, their ears, to hear better, and their cocks, to swell with lust summoned by the trickling of precum that escaped through their urethras with every jolt of their increasingly sensitive cocks. Both of them shuddered under the weight of their bristling passions when this exchange of fluid pushed them to grow bigger. To get harder. Warmer. Wetter.
They snarled as their enlarging cocks began to throb harder against one another. While Grayfang continued to chant about the Packlord's bountiful release upon the world of the living, Nightfur hugged his partner tighter against his form and began attacking his stretchy sheath with his hungry cock as described in the verses, the slippery sounds of his efforts mixing in with huffs and prayer alike.
"Mrawwhhh...your sheath feels unlike anything my cock has ever tasted," he managed to word out his praise between tense, hungry thrusts. "The way it stretches around my cock, ahhhrrrr...I thirst to shove myself whole, all the way to the root..."
"Thrust. Throb. Cum..." Grayfang chanted between the other verses of his prayer.
Nightfur did just that. The need to release the weight from his balls inside Grayfang's sheath consumed his thoughts bit by bit until the need to release was all he craved for. Faster and harder he thrust, slapping Grayfang's lips with his knot, growling ever louder as his tip rammed again and again upon the swollen knot of the older wolf.
Yet such passion tended to have consequences. After one particularly sudden jerk of his loins, Nightfur felt his own sheath stretch in welcoming embrace of Grayfang's neglected cock. He snarled, burying his claws in Grayfang's back as he instinctively pushed himself forward to receive the sacred tip of this fine male's organ within his soaked halls. And it felt good. So, so good. Sheath stretched, knot full, cock on the verge of bursting with abundant release, Nightfur began to shudder just like the Packlord quaked before he seeded the world with life.
"The packlord's strength wells within me...I feel like...I'm about to seed your sheath with life...just as he did for the whole world..." Nightfur blurted over Grayfang's chant over how the seeding of the world with life came to be. Like the Packlord, his cock also felt on the verge of releasing unshackled loads not over barren rock and stone, but inside the sheath of another virile male that could, in his own right, spill his own delightful semen.
"Thrust. Thrust. Cum...." The older wolf said, grinding his knot along the deeply buried tip of his partner. "Do as the Packlord did, and seed the walls of my sheath with your bounty. Release. Cum. You can finally cum now..."
Nightfur tensed so hard tears trickled down from his eyes. He wished this moment to be perfect. He yearned to thrust himself as deep as he could inside his partner's cock home so that his entire cock would fit in...but he couldn't hold that far. Right when his knot tasted the soaked lips of another male's sheath, he unloaded his first tepid rope, causing semen to fill up and overflow down along his own sheath lips.
"Grrraaaaahhhh! I spilled...I SPILLED! Too quick, too weak..." he snarled in anger, irritated at the weakness of his flesh.
But instead of chastising him, Grayfang told him the very thing he recited to his pup when the young male suffered a similarly premature fate inside his own sheath.
"Fear not, pack-mate. The Packlord welcomes you in his embrace..." Grayfang said, and with that, he grabbed Nightfur's knot within his own padded paw and forced it within his own sheath. With the full union formed, he began squeezing both of their cocks together with hard, rhythmic motions that spurred the black-furred werewolf's orgasm ever higher.
Nightfur howled to the moon. So intense the sensation of cumming inside Grayfang felt that the sky suddenly seemed dotted with a myriad of other stars. Rocking his hips back and forth with shuddering movements, he still tried to secure himself inside his partner while the other wolf's cock began filling up Nightfur's own sheath with an equal amount of warm semen.
"Mmmrrfff...I too welcome you in the embrace of my own pack, Nightfur. Let my seed...tie our bond in permanence." The old wolf smeared two fingers with their combined seed and made a sacred mark upon Nightfur's forehead. Then he bid the wolf to do the same for him while they were still tied together. Still cumming, together.
With both orgasms reached, their twin howls flew together to the moon in a most sonorous concert. Locked together by cocks and cum, the two dug their claws into each other's backs deep enough to draw blood as the blessed semen passed down from the Packlord himself flowed within each other's sheaths, over each other's spitting cocks.
They would remain joined at the groin for the rest of that night, a beautiful thing that reminisced Greyfang of the great Tie the Packlord performed once he seeded the mortal world with life. Yet unlike the Packlord, the two of them were not Gods, to simply shun the dangers of the land they lived in. Slowly and awkwardly, they maneuvered their way back to the burrow, still tied, sheath to sheath, the small tugs of their steps reminding them of the tie they performed in the service of their deity. Once they reached their bed, they lay together, kissed, and closed their eyes, surrendering themselves to a world of dreams as warm as the trickles of semen that sometimes escaped their sacred union.
***The End***
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