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Ben yawned widely, his body stirring slightly underneath the covers. The golden sun had barely started to rise when the wild dog quickly sat up, reaching in his bedside table for his trusty journal. Immediately feeling more awake and alert in his entire life, he began to read and recite the plan that he was to enact today, struggling to shake off what might have been the 16th time in a row he'd had the exact same dream.

The wild dog quickly noted down the main features of the dream, and double checked earlier in his notepad to make sure he wasn't finally going crazy. Definitely the same stupid dream, thought the teen.

He also checked his Casio watch: 4:26. Plenty of time to get ready. He hummed to himself his plan out loud as he quietly stepped out of bed, and tiptoed towards his grand, mahogany wardrobe that could dwarf a frost giant.

Torna has his usual beach walk at 10:15 AM on weekends, Ben thought to himself, and at that time room 12 in the south-east wing will be completely free.

He dug through the full contents of the wardrobe, battling through jackets, blazers and suits alike that were crammed in. All of them were bespoke, and worth a small fortune.

Aha, he thought to himself as he found a crude-looking carrier bag amongst all of the neatly folded clothing. I can't believe I've managed to save up all of this money! This'll help me as I change my name and ID. Easily bought with money.

He unfolded the leather wallet and checked all the money was there.

10,000 Giblians. Enough to buy four houses in the capital. Should be enough - to think, that's penny change for us. The thought brought a twang of guilt into his gut, but he pushed on, reciting more of the plan in his head.

The grey powder blush in here will let me temporarily disguise as a wolf, and with the gardener clothes in room 12, I'll blend right in with the other gardeners that arrive here at 10 AM today. Nobody will suspect a thing, and crucially, Torna will be out. That bastard has always foiled my escapes! Not this time.

He grumbled to himself slightly, and crudely shed himself of his pyjamas. He took only a fleeting glance at his lithe, but well-toned body; he did look good, his bushy tail swaying side to side.

I'll have to change into this gardener uniform in the free room in the south-eastern wing. It's still on the first floor, but there's a metal gutter that I can shimmy down. Unlike my wing, it’s on the forest side, which means no pesky sandy footprints to follow. It’s been dry, too, so no muddy footprints for them to follow.

Ben shuddered a bit to himself at what had transpired last year. He'd managed to make it as far as the coastline when Torna rushed him down on a dirt bike. He'd simply followed Ben's tracks.

“Now we're both in fucking trouble,” growled the fennec. Ben growled softly to himself at that memory. That slip up cost me the only slither of freedom I was allowed, so this plan needs to be watertight, lest that damn fennec ends up sleeping in the same room as me for the rest of my teenhood.

Just the thought of it made Ben cringe. He dressed himself in his favourite pair of briefs; simple, white, elegant, followed up with the pyjama bottoms. Eh, it's morning. Father probably won't care about it.

–

Ben munched through his breakfast like he hadn't eaten in weeks! It was enough for even greedy Jeremy to comment. “Am I starving you, boy?” He chuckled, nudging the teen’s shoulder from the head of the table. Ben winced and flinched.

“Awwwh, come off it boy! Tomorrow you'll be wedded and King, with all the power and wealth underneath your paws. Of course, I'll remain as your adviser,” gruffed the King, who wiped his mutton chops.

Ben eagerly checked his watch. 08:00. Just two more sodding hours, thought the boy, then I can say goodbye to King Arsehole for the last time.

DING-DONG!

The unmistakable toll of the large, brass bell that hung connected to a ridiculously thick rope at the front gates echoed obnoxiously throughout the dinner hall.

“One of them’s here already?!” Burbled out Jeremy in surprise, standing so quickly his crown nearly fell!

The king shot a glance at his underdressed son. “BEN! Go to your room and dress yourself nicely. One of your potential bridesmaids is here early!!” Ben scowled to himself at Jeremy's over-the-moon voice. He froze in place as he considered everything that was on the line today.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BOY?!” Yelled his father, the vulgarity of it shaking him out of his temporary trance. Ben sighed, rubbing his face in his paws. Too early for this. Wait, did he say one of them had come early?!

DING-DONG!!

Jeremy clipped Ben's head in frustration as he waddled past the teen, out of the mess hall and towards the front door. Torna replaced him, and fiercely gripped Ben's wrist, practically dragging him back to his room and thrusting him inside.

“I'm not letting you out until you're in something nice!” Threatened the fennec, who stood right at the closed door.

Ben growled loudly to himself. For FUCK’S SAKE! I formulated a water-tight plan and now one of the bitches is here early?! This has ruined everything!! Knowing my luck, she'll be assigned the same room with the gardener's clothes.

Bubbling with rage, the 17 year old nearly tore off his pyjamas. Part of him wanted to sob, but he knew Torna was in earshot. Defiantly, he sat on the bed totally naked, wondering how long he could get away with not meeting whoever it was at the door.

The answer was not very long. After about 10 minutes of listening in and waiting, Torna had entered the room and barked at Ben to get dressed, “or I’ll make you get dressed, and neither of us want that.” So, begrudgingly, Ben thrusted on a ‘nice’ pair of jeans, accompanied by a shirt he had hanging up in the wardrobe. His mind swimming in frustration at his plans foiling before they’d even begun!

As he was escorted by the fennec to the mess hall, he didn’t even think about the dame he was about to meet. He was too busy trying to find some kind of solution to this situation, some kind of way that he could escape. His heart was pounding as he realised that this was it. His life was over. Never was he going to be a musician, never was he going to be without the heavy burden of being a ruler. He clutched his chest; his heart was beating so fast, his paws shaking, he wondered if he was going to have a panic attack.

Arriving at the mess hall, his heart still pounding, Ben breathed and grounded himself to calm down a bit, controlling his breaths back down to a manageable rate.

Ben blinked. His tail swished around curiously. He blinked again. Wow… she’s actually really pretty, thought the teen. As girls go, I mean.

Standing there next to Father was a sight to behold. She was around Ben’s height, maybe a little taller, with a lithe, curvy body, clad in an adorably-petite long, white dress with flowers stitched around the bottom hem, covering nearly her whole body, save for her jet-black arms. Two small onyx ears jutted up from a dark grey headscarf that covered her hair, her large, wolf-like tail wagging nervously as her piercing jade eyes glowed in Ben’s direction.

Quickly, she bowed, with enough flourish and excellence for Ben to know that she was well-practiced. Jeremy gruffly cleared his throat. “Prince Ben, meet Lady Pines.”

Like her name, Ben could detect the sweet, piney scent that wafted from her body. A small smile spread between his cheeks as Lady Pines straightened up, smiling in return.

“Please Prince, just call me Lucy.” Her paws clutched at each other in front of her tummy, and the tip of her tail rattled somewhat, a tomato blush faintly underlying the darkness of her face.

Ben gulped. He hadn’t met a girl his age before, lest one this pretty. Still not doing it for me, thought the wild dog, but she looks friendly. Maybe this won’t be so bad…

He gingerly approached her, looked across to his father, of whom nodded. With care, Ben gently guided one of her black paws against his own blotchy one, gently smooching the top of it. Her scent is gorgeous, he thought.

“Ben, I would like you to show Lady Pines around the holiday premises. You know the rules of the place, but just behave,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. It was only then that Ben noticed two dark-furred wolves who were sitting at the dinner table; both of them shared some of Lucy’s features. Notably, both were uniquely dressed, with who Ben presumed to be the mother wearing a similar headscarf but concealing her entire face, save for her eyes, and the father wore much more lax clothing. Ben blushed a bit as he briefly made eye contact with the father, who only smiled.

Ben nodded up at his father. “Sure.” He offered his multicoloured, multi-blotched paw out to Lucy, who happily accepted, walking alongside him out of the mess hall as the chatter of the other three echoed out. Once away from them and finding themselves walking towards the gardens, Ben turned to the girl, who had been completely quiet. “So uh, Lucy, where do you come from?” he asked, having let go of her paw as soon as he was out of sight from the others.

Lucy didn’t seem to mind, strolling comfortably next to the African wild dog. Ben thought it unusual to have met such a pretty girl to be slightly taller than the 6ft boy. “I come from the country Torana,” she explained, her voice deeper, maturer and smoother than he’d expected. Ben rolled his eyes to himself upon hearing her reply. No wonder she’s wearing headgear.

A whole hour had passed for Ben to have shown the lady the whole of the palace; save for his and the King’s bedroom, of course. Every single thing Ben had pointed out, Lucy had been interested in. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to be so enamoured by what Ben saw as so mundane; the tall ceilings, the size of the rooms, the fact that things were made out of mahogany, ebony and oak. He’d also learned that, even though she wasn’t of royalty, her parents were incredibly rich and owned over a third of the entire infrastructure of her country. Crazy. Not that Ben cared.

“Pardon me if it is rude, Prince, but I haven’t seen your room,” pointed out Lucy, as they both sprawled out on a deck chair each, overlooking the vast, well-kept gardens. A sunny day had led both of them to bask in the temporary morning sunshine. Ben blushed a little. He wasn’t sure why was embarrassed, but he saw his room as that: his room. Yeah well, if you discount the fact that Torna lets himself in whenever. There’s not even a lock on the door.

“Oh um, well, there’s not really much of interest inside my room…” reasoned Ben, to which Lucy nearly choked on her orange juice.

“Nothing of interest in the Prince’s bedroom?! I’m sure you have a bed that dwarfs mine, with the softest quilts, softer than I could imagine!” She squeed. “Please can we take a look? I promise I won’t be too nosy.”

Ben sighed. “Yeah fine, sure. But there’s nothing really impressive there, save for the view, I guess.” And with that, relax time is over… thought Ben.

A long jaunt to the East wing and they were at a large, imposing oak door. Ben pushed it open and Lucy burst inside, immediately marvelled by the view.

“Oh my goodness!! I have never seen such a spectacular display,” she gasped, paws rising to her muzzle, quickly lifting herself up onto the generous window sill to kneel. Her skirt was long enough to ensure that her risque posture didn’t reveal anything. Not that Ben was interested. He had lifted himself effortlessly to sit cross-legged on the window sill, gazing through the window next to her, at the same view.

“This view never gets old. You don’t know how many arguments I had to have with Da-uh, I mean, King Jeremy to have this room,” remarked Ben, an embarrassed chuckle following from his muzzle. His ears wilted a bit as he watched the waves roll in, out. I’ll never be able to feel the sand on my paws again; not with complete freedom.

Lucy’s left paw had gently brushed Ben’s, her face turned to him. She nervously looked around the room, mostly at the door, before her free paw reached behind her head. In an instant, her luscious hair freed itself, uncurling gently next to her head. Said hair shone spectacularly under the window light, showing off a very slight purple tinge.

“Do forgive me,” mused the femme wolf, who’s face had pinkened. “These head garments are so restrictive sometimes.” She brushed her hair with her left paw as if it were a brush. Ben shook his head. How is she so pretty?!

“You are beautiful,” muttered the wild dog, who immediately slapped a paw on his muzzle. Yeah, you just said that out loud. Idiot. What about escaping the palace? You should be thinking abo-

For once, his inner monologue was interrupted by something much more pressing. Whilst lost in his thoughts, Lucy had shimmied the little distance between them, and locked her muzzle onto his. Both of her supply paws rested on Ben’s slim shoulders, gently squeezing. A sweet, but fleeting kiss, she quickly pulled herself back, her face redder than a tomato.

“I’m sorry Prince… I don’t know what got over me.”

Ben sat there, gazing up at her, like he was in a trance; taking in and reminiscing every single millisecond of that interaction. That was my first kiss, thought Ben solemnly, and it was amazing. But is it as amazing as tasting freedom? His expression remained blank for a moment after, thoughts ticking along in his mind. I’ve got it! There’s still a way I can escape. It’s a bit mean…

“Prince, did I upset you?” Her worried voice snapped Ben out of his mini-trance, and guiltily glanced at Lucy, who still sat there, her body awkwardly twisted and tense, twirling her hair between a digit; her tail raised high and alert. Ben smiled; somewhat forcefully. “No Lucy,” he hummed, “that was amazing.”

A silence fell between them both, when Ben’s ears perked up suddenly. “I do have something special to show you,” mused the wild dog, a cheeky grin spreading infectiously across his charming face. A faint blush adorned above his cheeks, he pointed to his bed and walked over to the foot of it. He tilted his head, as if to beckon her.

Lucy hopped off of the window sill and over to the foot of the bed, closing the distance between them as they faced each other. “And what is that?” asked Lucy, her face full of inquisitiveness, her eyes glazed in innocence.

Ben smirked internally, but kept a straight face. I wonder if she thinks I’m going to show her my dick. Bet she’s never even seen a penis; they’re all raised by prudes, like my father!

Clearing his throat, Ben replied, “It’s a surprise. I’ll show you, but you need to close your eyes and sit on the bed,” he bartered, a cheeky smile smacked upon his muzzle, his ears open and twitching somewhat, his muzzle snuffling somewhat.

Lucy’s left eyebrow raised, but she complied, calmly planting her butt on the end of the bed. She shuffled back somewhat, facing the wild dog.

“Now close your eyes. No peeking!” Jabbed the wild dog, his tail lashing about somewhat as he crept to the bedside, as silent as a mouse. He shifted himself so that he was behind Lucy, next to the bed.

Alright. I need to be accurate and quick with this…

His whole body tense, he slowly crept to close the distance between him and Lucy. The girl sat there patiently, eyes closed, oblivious to anything that could happen.

In one motion, Ben sprung and leapt onto the bed, his body centimetres away from hers. With a yank, he pulled Lucy to him with a swift, powerful arm that pressed her back into his front. Simultaneously, his other paw retrieved a thick handkerchief from his pocket and around her muzzle and snout, spreading his paw strongly to cover up both breath-holes.

Lucy’s eyes snapped open and she struggled, yelled, lashed and tore; the young girl completely swept from her senses, already dizzy from the action, her brain fraught with confusion and terror. Her body convulsing in stranglehold-induced desperation to breathe, she squirmed with all her might; but it was clear Ben was much, much stronger, his lithe looks hiding a film of well-developed, daily-trained muscle.

Come on, come on! Just faint already, thought Ben as seconds passed, one by one, her squirming intensifying each moment. He’d managed to wrap his flexible legs around hers to pin her completely.

Some more seconds passed and quickly she went limp; her full weight now lying in a ragdoll fashion over Ben’s. Still holding the handkerchief firmly into place, Ben didn’t let go until he was certain that she’d lost consciousness. He quickly got to work, the new plan fizzing inside Ben’s brain as he quickly stripped down to nothing and proceeded to strip her.

His paws reached Lucy’s flower-patterned bra and he paused for a moment. Am I really going to strip her down? He shook his head in frustration, growling to himself. This is much more important than a nude girl, Ben! This is about freedom. Gritting his teeth, he unclasped her bra and the scent from her fluffy breasts intoxicated the wild dog for a second. He wasn’t at all used to scents from females, especially this close and this… young. Still, at least he wouldn’t have to take off her… underwear. Ben shuddered at the thought, having already removed her skirt, the scent from her nethers was pungent enough for Ben to detect.

Ben admired himself, having put on Lucy’s clothes, everything from the head coverings to the all-in-one dress. A worried smile flashed across his face. I actually quite like this look. He twirled halfway in front of his mirrored wardrobe, frowning at the big giveaway: his limbs. She’s as black as the night, and I’m a blotchy mess. Oh wait! Her handbag. With hope surging through his veins, he came across just what he was looking for. Black blush! Awh, this’ll work great.

Ben had used a mixture of black blush and pure coal from the room’s fireplace, colouring his legs, paws, arms and feet black. He coughed a little as he finished coating his normally white tail into a charcoal-coloured one. He looked in the mirror. Different colour eyes, slightly different ear shape, slightly smaller tail… I think I’ll pass. It’ll have to do.

He hurriedly stuffed the handbag with the money that he’d saved, as well as a blank passport he’d managed to swipe from the passport office. Being the King’s son, he was allowed practically anywhere, especially with his father’s help. Little did Jeremy know of Ben’s grandiose plan to escape.

Taking a deep breath, he casually strolled out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Already, he’d left a faint carbon mark on the oak door. Shit… better be careful. He walked away from the room, having rolled Lucy underneath the bed along with his clothes. He had considered that the clothes he was wearing now were the only clothes he may have over the next coming days, depending on whether he could sneak his way all the way to the railway tracks that lay some 30 miles away, on the outskirts of the first forest.

Ben pitter-pattered his way across the hall, and then towards the huge front doors which were open, but manned by two guards. Upon hearing Ben’s footsteps, they turned to him, watching as ‘she’ approached.

“Young Lucy,” started one of the guard wolves, clad in formidable steel armour and wielding a sharp, pokey stick, “where is Ben?”

Ben frowned, but continued walking toward the entrance. “Oh, he’s gone to the toilet. He told me to wait outside and catch the last of the sun.” Ben croaked, forcing his voice up an octave, trying to imitate her foreign accent with mixed success. Here’s hoping they’re fooled… pausing at the entrance to look at the wolf who queried ‘her’, the other piercing the back of ‘her’ head.

The wolf who’d questioned him shrugged, and returned to his position, as did the other wolf. Ben quietly panted out a sigh of relief, casually walking out along the front of the property. Nearly 100 steps it took for Ben to scale from the front, to flanking the side now, facing the forest dead ahead. A huge garden scape of neatly kept lawn, patches of vegetable plots, a couple of orchards and a group of flower beds lay between them and the forest. Perfect timing, thought Ben, as it was approaching lunch time and the gardeners were having their first snack break.

He calmly walked down the garden, pretending to take interest in the flower beds as he noticed Jeremy watching him from the rear balcony. Ben noticed that Jeremy had turned away and didn’t seem to suspect anything. Wow, I’m just 50 metres away from the forest boundary! All I have to do now is…

He faced it, and looked up. What must be 14 feet of thick wire fencing stood proudly between freedom, and a life of kingdom. Ben looked behind, some of the charcoal having faded off of his paws. He was so far from the palace now that it didn’t even matter; not unless someone was peeping with strong binoculars. He’d accounted from this, and from the handbag he pulled out a long, thin piece of rope with a large stone wrapped tightly around it.

Ben sighed. Now or never, he thought, as he lobbed the rock over the fence, the rock only just about scaled the fencing and swung around twice on a thick branch. He’d made sure to tie the end of the durable rope around his left paw. Groaning, he started scaling the fence, the fence-like shapes only just large enough for his digits to grip onto.

Ben didn’t bother to look back. Surprisingly, it seemed like no one was after him, and after a twenty-second hurried scale, he launched his body up to swing on the same branch the rock had wrapped around. He was now 12ft above the ground. He shimmied himself along the tree trunk, and rushed down the tree on all-fours, completely injureless.

“Whew. This is going really well!” Hummed Ben to himself, who speedily swiped at the rope strapped to his paw. He glanced back and didn’t see anyone coming. Still, he sprinted, the wind rushing past his short hair and wafting up his legs, the dress allowing a surprising amount of flexibility as he leaped over logs, scurried over streams and bolted over bushes. He didn’t stop running; his heart pounding, his lungs screaming inside, Ben ignored the faint taste of blood threatening to fill his muzzle, his body begging him to stop. But Ben knew better than to stop. To stop now was to give up every single shred of hope for him living a fairly normal life, to be able to choose his own partner, his own future, his own fate.