# Walls Of Stone

Author: Nabeel Mohammed
Tags: M/M, Wolf

  
Walls of Stone  
  
By Lord DemonKlaw  
  
=============================================================================  
  
  
Drek became aware of the burning in the soles of his feet around  
leaving the town of Draish. Unfortunately, he had come some hundred and  
something miles since then and by now, the pain was unbearable. Drek, a wolf now  
in his twenties or so, with grey fur and brown eyes, was not one prone to giving  
up easily and had borne the pain for so long. His weathered apparell consisted  
of only a pair of pants and a leather vest and these were in dire need of  
changing, torn in many places and musky with his scent. Now he opened the door  
to the tavern in the town he had come to, uncaring as to where he was or the  
unsavory stares of the other patrons. He walked to the bar and sat down, placing  
his bag near his feet and dropping three copper coins on the hardwood bar, he  
ordered dinner.  
  
Drek hunched over the bar and ate the meal in silence, not bothering  
to ask what it was he was eating or even when it was made. The grey wolf only  
knew that he was tired. When finished with the meal, the barmaid approached him  
tentatively to take his bowl and mug.  
  

  The vixen reached out to take his mug, her fingers just reaching for  
it gingerly, as if she were afraid he might bite her. True, he did look quite a  
sight, and he fancied she might be scared of him, but he ignored her fear as he  
turned to speak to her.  
  
"What town is this?"  
  
She looked at Drek bemusedly, all fear gone, and cocked her head to  
one side. Big, lively blue eyes looked at Drek now, not with fear, but with a  
childish innocence and puzzlement. "I have a question for you, sir," she said,  
"what sort of traveler knows not whence he travels?"  
  
Drek could not help smiling, so he did. The barmaid was a thin,  
lively vixen with bluish-grey fur. She wore a red dress which simply proclaimed  
that she was a girl from the simple country, and proud of it in the way she wore  
it. Her tail swished behind her actively.  
  
"I know not because I had cared not."  
  
She took up his mug and stood silent for a moment, then, looking at  
the mug to avoid his gaze, she said "did you care not because it means nothing  
to a desperate man?"  
  

  "Nothing so interesting, I fear," Drek chuckled.  
  
She smiled at him now, "you are in Winsmyre, land of Count Melarn."  
  
"Is this a good place for one to stay for a rest?"  
  
"Only if one doesn't mind doing a few chores, and by the looks of  
you," she said, reaching over to take his bowl from the other side, wrapping her  
thin arm around his fuzzy mane, "you have endurance enough."  
  
"Vacancy at the inn?"  
  
She shook her head and frowned, "nay, the old badger who owns it  
claims the merchants have free run of the place at this season." Resting a paw  
on his shoulder, she said "however, my uncle, who owns this tavern, may let you  
stay for a while."  
  
"Only a day or two, a pray of thee," Drek answered her.  
  
"Then it shall be so," she said, smiling.  
  
As she turned to leave, Drek put a paw on her shoulder. She turned to  
him and he placed a gold peice in her paw and closed her fingers over it  
tightly. When she looked up at him, he offered an explanation, "that is for  
being in my dreams tonight."  
  
The next morning, Drek was outside, pitching hay. He laboured  
furiously in the warm sun and his sweat matted his fur. The grassy field exuded  
the musky aroma of mist lifted and sun burning down and this added to gusto with  
which he worked. He grunted, stabbing the fork into the hay and he stopped for a  
second, looking up. Two armoured horses were approaching him from a distance.  
Drek mused that the armour must be unbearable in this weather. The armour was a  
shiny brown and covered the entire body, save for the face. They carried short  
lances, knight-lances, Drek guessed.  
  

  The horses stopped just in front of Drek, who had, up to now,  
pretended to take no notice of them. Now, he stood up from the hay and greeted  
the soldiers with a breathy good morning, gasping for air. The horses nodded  
greeting.  
  
"Count Melarn commands your presence," said the one on the left.  
  
Drek eyed him curiously. When the soldier would say no more, Drek  
opened his mouth to ask why him, or even, how the count knew he has here, but  
his questions were cut short as the soldier put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Count Melarn commands your presence," he repeated.  
  
"I heard you the first time," Drek spat back nastily, shrugging off  
the hand. "Now, why does his lordship request me?"  
  
"Count Melarn has his reasons," the one on the right said. Drek could  
more than guess that he had no idea. Drek shifted his gaze from one soldier to  
the other, finding them as helpful as two boulders.  
  
"And what if I refuse to come?"  
  
One of the soldiers hoisted his lance up quickly and the last thing  
Drek remembered was a sharp thud as the pommel of the lance whistled down upon  
his head.  
  

  Warmth. A friendly warmth, enveloping and tender, so very fragile.  
Drek inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the arid scent around him. He opened  
his blurred eyes and blinked away the tears. He was in a large bed, soft under  
his belly and comforting, with sheets laying above him. He sat up slowly, aware  
of a dull throbbing sensation at his forehead.  
  
Propping himself on his elbows, Drek craned his head around. The room  
was stone, like that of a castle, and filled with the flooding low light of  
dusk. Lavish articles furnished the room, such as a dresser and closet, and the  
bed was a canopy-type one. Drek had never slept in one, much less seen one, and  
he wondered what was the use of placing a canopy on a bed to be used indoors?  
Rich people were so impractical. But then, who was the rich person who owned  
this particular bed? He stirred under the sheets and realized that he was nude,  
and by the smell, freshly bathed. The door creaked open, startling Drek.  
  
"I had wondered when you would awaken." Said the tall white wolf  
leaning the the doorway. He was tall, at least, a little taller than Drek. His  
mane fell across one of his steel-grey eyes, giving him an air of intruige. And  
he was dressed in fine clothing. The type afforded only by the rich of the land.  
Gold trimmed and white frilled crimson jacket and black pants, complimented by a  
flowing black silk cape. His very scent was that of wealth.  
  

  "Where am I?" Drek asked.  
  
"You are in castle Melarn," the wolf said, walking into the room,  
"and I am your host, the count Vanguar Melarn." The white wolf bowed slightly as  
he approached Drek's bedside, smirking to himself. He seemed to be about Drek's  
age, but one so young as a count, Drek wondered to himself?  
  
"Why did..."  
  
"I apologise for my men's methods in bringing you here, I gave them  
no such instructions to use force." Count Melarn smiled at Drek, and sat down on  
the bedside.  
  
"And just why was I asked to come here?" Drek asked, sitting up.  
  
"I saw you arrive at the village last night, near evening," the count  
said, folding his hands in his lap, "I took an interest in you. I wondered if  
you would like to join me for dinner here in my castle tonight?"  
  
"Do all travelers meet with such, 'hospitality?'" Drek asked, rubbing  
his forehead, the dull ache still present.  
  
The count laughed softly and wrapped one of his arms around the  
bedpost to steady himself. "I find you interesting, and would very much like for  
you to keep me company this afternoon as I dine."  
  

  Drek eyed him closely, narrowing his gaze to betray his suspicion,  
"Why?"  
  
"To put it simply," Vanguar said, hesitating, "I get lonely here in  
the castle. The villagers fear me and so I cannot invite any of them to my  
castle."  
  
"Were you not concerned that I might fear you as well?"  
  
"You do not know me, how could you fear me?"  
  
"Exactly, I do not know you."  
  
The count's gaze lowered, as if he were ashamed. Then standing, he  
said, "We shall speak tonight at dinner. I have left clothes for you here."  
  
Drek looked at where the count had indicated, and saw lavish  
clothing, of many types for his choosing, draped on a day-bed. Capes and cloaks  
and other such colourful attire. "Where are my own clothes?"  
  
"I had my servants put them in the closet here," Vanguar replied. He  
looked at Drek curiously, "of all this rich clothing, you choose your old rags?  
Why?"  
  
"They suit my needs. I need not much."  
  
The count looked a little dissatisfied with that answer. Then  
nodding, he said "leave us continue at dinner." He turned to leave, then,  
stopped and turned back as he reached the door. "I forgot to ask you of your  
name."  
  

  "My name is Drek."  
  
"Drek...lovely..." and with that, the count vanished into the  
hallway, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Into the night, Drek and his host sat on the balcony of the castle.  
With their sumptous dinner completed, Drek sat at the table, as the count sat on  
the balcony railing. His cape and long hair flapped in the night wind. He was a  
languid wolf, Drek thought, and very handsome, it was a wonder he was not  
married.  
  
"Drek," asked the count, "why do you travel?"  
  
Drek stood and walked close to the count, standing behind him on the  
balcony. "I travel to find myself. To learn more about myself and the world I  
live in."  
  
The count slid back onto the balcony from the railing. "You are a  
very mysterious one, Drek."  
  
"And you, my lord?" Drek asked. "What of you?"  
  
The count smiled softly, his gaze locked with Drek's and, something  
Drek found slightly unsettling. "I am no mystery, ask and I shall reveal  
anything you wish!"  
  
Drek smiled and leaned on the balcony, enjoying the night air. "Why  
does one as young as yourself rule this land?"  
  

  Vanguar smiled weakly, "how old do you think I am?"  
  
"You seem to be about my age. Twenty-odd years, mayhap?"  
  
"Aye. This coming month I shall celebrate my twenty-first birthday."  
  
"And I my twenty-third in coming months." Drek inched closer to the  
white wolf. "And so how did you come to own this land?"  
  
Vanguar frowned. He seemed to be struggling with something inside of  
him, something deep within. Slowly, he said "my family, mother, father and  
sister...they were killed in the great war." The count braced himself on the  
balcony and closed his eyes, overwhelmed with grief and unable to control it.  
  
"I'm sorry." Drek's face softened. This handsome wolf, he thought,  
with no-one here for him, to live out his days in solemn misery, with his  
family's death over his head. For an instant, Drek felt pity for the count, a  
heart-melting pity. Drek placed his paw on the count's shoulder and the count  
shuddered, reaching back to clasp his paw.  
  
Then, the count took Drek's paw and placed it on his cheek, staying  
it there with both his hands, and he began to sob. Drek moved to the count and  
embraced him warmly from behind. The count shuddered again, and crossed his arms  
over Drek's, still sobbing softly.  
  

  Suddenly, the count turned his head back and licked at Drek's furry  
cheek swiftly.  
  
Drek flung his arms wide and drew back in shock. "What...what just  
happened?"  
  
The count turned and faced Drek, his eyes brimming with silvery tears  
which left damp marks where they ran down his face on either side of his muzzle.  
His expression was one of surprise. "I'm sorry, I-I..."  
  
The grey wolf regained his composure and looked at the count.  
Vanguar's mane whipped around his face wildly in the cool air and he remained  
there, with his hands crossed on his chest.  
  
"It's okay," Drek reasoned, "you are tired and you were not thinking  
properly..."  
  
"No..." Vanguar whispered hoarsely, looking down, "I guess I was  
not..."  
  
Drek sighed and said, "I guess we can continue talking tommorow."  
  
"Tommorow, then," the count said. Then, he raised his eyes to Drek's  
and pulled his cape around him. "Will you go back to the village? You may stay  
here if you wish."  
  
"The road is dark and probably full of thieves," Drek said, "And the  
bed you have offered me here is most comfortable..."  
  

  "It is yours for as long as you like. It was my old one, before I  
took to spending my nights in my parents' room after their death. I would very  
much like it if you would stay."  
  
"I would be honoured to," Drek answered. " it seems my lord is in  
need of a friend."  
  
"Yes," the count answered, lowering his gaze and whispering under his  
breath, "a friend..."  
  
They said their goodnights and as Drek turned to retire, Count  
Vanguar resumed his lonely crying on the balcony. But he did not weep for his  
family, with the rose clutched in his paw tightly...  
  
The next day passed quietly. Drek took his time walking around the  
castle, familiarizing himself with the pathways and corridors. A pair of the  
maids had been particularly attentive to him, and he decided to return the  
favour. He walked over to them as they chatted in the hallway, and made his  
prescence known to them, amidst their giggling at his boldness and  
attractiveness. A simple greeting and a comment or two on their beauty, his  
advances were obviously sexual.  
  
Quietly and swiftly, the count drifted down the hallway behind Drek  
and glanced coldly at the maids, his gaze shattering their girlish demeanour and  
they meeped quietly and slid away like dying shadows. Drek was no fool and  
decided to seek out the count about this behaivour. Later in the day, he met up  
with the count at the end of his exploration of the castle, in the main hall.  
  

  "M'Lord Melarn?"  
  
The count turned his fey features to his guest and smiled. A false  
smile, surely, a mask. "Ah, friend Drek! You had not spoken to me all day, and  
your silence bid me to keep my distance."  
  
"My silence is of no concern. I speak when it suits me." Drek said.  
  
"Oh?" Vanguar's eyebrow went up slightly. "And does it suit you now?"  
  
"Indeed," the grey wolf said. The two sauntered to the table and sat  
across from one another. Drek leaned back in his seat. "The two maids I were  
speaking to this morning..."  
  
"Ah yes," Vanguar exhaled, hiding his annoyance badly. "Mailien and  
Karisa. Fine girls. You fancy them?"  
  
"Yes," Drek said, "but that is beside the point. Why did you instill  
such fear into them?"  
  
"I did nothing of the sort." Vanguar seemed offended now.  
  
"You passed us by and regarded them with such hatred that I swear  
they shivered to themselves." Drek sat up. "You seemed to want to keep them away  
from me."  
  
Vanguar's face melded into a sudden storm of anger and frustration.  
He stood from his seat violently and slammed his fists down upon the table.  
Then, shaken, he placed one hand over his face and he shook with emotion. Drek  
stirred from his seat in concern. The count did not look at him, but spoke to  
him, "please, friend Drek, retire to your chambers now."  
  

  "Lord Melarn..."  
  
"Please, Drek. I beseech you." Vanguar still stood there, the tears  
once more staining his cheeks. "Go to your chambers. Expect me upon duskfall."  
  
"Aye my lord." With that, he departed.  
  
Drek waited countless minutes and some hours by himself in the  
bedroom. As the last ribbons of dying sunlight died their orange death, his door  
creaked open. From his window, with his head turned to the door, he saw Count  
Vanguar Melarn, sad, with his silky cape drawn around him.  
  
Before Drek could say a word of comfort or greeting, Vanguar stepped  
into the room and sat on the bed. He avoided Drek's gaze and sighed once to  
himself.  
  
"What troubles you, my lord?" Drek asked.  
  
"Desire, Drek. Desire." This was all the answer the count would allow  
him.  
  
Drek thought for a moment. The answer seemed simple enough. "The  
girls? Your maids? You desire one of their hearts?"  
  
"Nay." The count whispered.  
  
Drek sat on the bed next to the count slowly. "Then what is it you  
desire, my lord? You may tell me. I shall tell no one."  
  
"Do you promise this?" Vanguar looked at him, his big grey eyes  
shining, but still, no joy in them yet.  
  

  "Aye. I promise. No one shall know save myself and the walls." Drek  
placed a paw on the count's shoulder.  
  
Vanguar hesitated a moment, but this time, only a moment. He inched  
closer to the grey wolf and slid an arm around his waist, then embraced him  
tightly and buried his muzzle into Drek's warm, furry chest. Choked, his voice  
seeped out of him in thin threads "I desire you..."  
  
"My lord..." a thousand conflicting ideas ran though Drek. What could  
he mean? How did he mean it? Why him? Vanguar slipped away from him presently  
and leaned back onto the bedpost.  
  
"I trust now you understand the root of my hospitality?"  
  
"Frankly, your lordship, I do not. I am more confused than ever."  
  
"Drek...wonderfully masculine you are...and for this, for a while, I  
found it hard to bring my feelings for you out." Vanguar tossed his cape over  
his shoulder.  
  
"What are you saying, my lord?"  
  
Vanguar took a long look at Drek, his eyes fierce and determined."I  
love you, Drek. From the time I saw you, you were everything I wanted in a  
lover. I cared not that you were a male, it aroused me more! I love you Drek! I  
cannot deny it! I kept Mailien and Karisa away from you so that I would have you  
to myself! I could not stand how you advanced on them so, and ignored my own  
feelings for you! However, if you feel uncomforable with my emotions for you,  
Drek...well then, please...leave now and say nothing..."  
  

  The blockage was cast aside and all his hidden emotion finally flowed  
out of him in one gasp. Now all he had to do was wait for a reaction, so he  
closed his eyes and waited.  
  
Then he felt Drek's paw on his neck.  
  
Drek drew him closer and their breath mixed torridly in an instant of  
blind anticipation and haste, then, all of it dissapeared as their lips pressed  
to each other's. Vanguar's meeps and squeaks of joy were muffled in Drek's mouth  
and he resigned himself to caressing the grey fur exposed underneath Drek's vest  
with his leather gloved paws. Pulling apart, they looked into each other's eyes.  
Words could not help them now. They were beyond that.  
  
Drek's paw, resting on the count's thigh, was all he needed to know  
that the wolf's inhibitions were gone and he had no reservations about it. He  
opened his mouth to say something, but Vanguar's finger bridged his lips and  
shushed him. He slumped against Drek's chest and smiled.  
  
Drek looked at him. His soft, warm smile as he lay there upon his  
chest, heaving with love. There was no wrong in it. Vanguar needed someone to  
love, and Drek had found him irrisitably compelling from their first meeting,  
there could be no more talk, no more hiding, this was real. This was love. This  
was a far greater love than either of them had ever known.  
  

  Vanguar stood slowly and let his cape fall to the floor. He began to  
undress slowly, removing each article of his clothing with the grace of a  
dancer. When he was reduced to only his trousers, he asked Drek, breaking their  
gaze and turning about, "Drek, are you attracted to me?"  
  
Drek rose from the bed and snaked his arms about the count, hugging  
him gently from behind. He rested his head on the count's shoulder and into his  
ear, whispered, "you possess the most lovely form I have ever gazed upon, my  
lord..."  
  
"Please," Vanguar said, smiling with his eyes made small, making him  
ten times cuter to Drek, "do not call me your lord."  
  
"Aye," Drek replied, his hands masterfully caressing the furry chest,  
"my lover..."  
  
"My lover," Vanguar echoed. Drek removed the count's trousers and  
turned him so that they faced one another. Vanguar stood, smiling more truly  
than Drek had ever seen him, gloriously naked, all the fine muscular lines  
visible through his snow-white fur. His body was as if it were sculpted from  
fine porcalin, and he was thin of limb, but lean and defined elsewhere, and his  
face, as if painted by a master artist to embody the beauty of a winter morning.  
Drek approached him and they embraced once more, nuzzling each other warmly.  
  

  By this time, Drek's crotch felt as if it were a heavy load, though  
he was somewhat amazed he could be so aroused by a male. With the help of  
Vanguar's feathery-soft paws, his vest and pants were easily removed, and his  
throbbing wolfhood stood poignantly erect to both of them. Vanguar delighted in  
this and moved to caress it with a paw, arousing himself in the process. Soon,  
his own cock was unsheathed and it's slick pink length glistened in the room's  
candlelight.  
  
He placed both paws on Drek's chest and began to slowly writhe his  
hips foward, pressing both their malenesses together heatedly. They murmured at  
the exquisite touch and held each other by the hips, exciting one another, their  
cocks rubbing along each other's length. Drek pushed slowly against Vanguar,  
feeling his hot tool against his own was an explosively bewildering experiance,  
making him quiver uncontrollably.  
  
Gently now, Vanguar pushed him back until his knees buckled on the  
edge of the bed, and Drek found himself laying under the count, the white wolf's  
knee on his hip. Vanguar crouched and lay soft, licking kisses on Drek's muzzle  
as his paw slipped around on the grey wolf's tremendous dick. After a few  
strokes, the two were laying side by side, touching and petting one another all  
over.  
  

  Within a few moments, the count slid up from his place and kneeled  
near Drek's midsection. He peered at the long, red member with his head cocked  
to one side for a while, then plunged his muzzle down onto it. He grinned and  
gave the dick a generous tounge-bathing, mrring gently and tickling the glans  
with his tounge. Drek's eyes popped open wide and his head snapped back. He  
poured out a long, low howl, pushing his hips up against Vanguar's smiling  
mouth.  
  
Vanguar giggled. Strange, thought Drek, but furiously sexy! Vanguar  
slid his mouth off Drek's stiff penis, saliva now making it slick and dripping  
with moisture. Vanguar smiled up at Drek, who looked back at him, confused.  
  
As Vanguar began to straddle Drek, Drek began to understand a little.  
The next thing he felt was Vanguar's buttocks clenching his wet cock. Vanguar  
closed his eyes and bucked his hips, trying to position himself right. Slowly,  
the red erection slid into his tight, virgin anus. It passed the constricting  
ring with a little difficulty, and Vanguar grunted and whined at the cockhead  
wedged past his asshole. With a final squeal of happiness, the frustration on  
the count's face melted into a wide grin, with his tounge lolling out.  
  

  Drek's hard shaft was squished in tightly into Vanguar's ass, and he  
was oohing, ahhing and groaning as the slender white wolf rode his thick cock.  
This was the single most erotic moment of Drek's life, as in an hour or so, in  
all the warmth their bodies made together, the feel of Vanguar's dick tickling  
against his belly and his prick deep in the count's ass, he came violently. His  
throbbing penis shot a thick wad of semen into his partner's asshole, and  
howling with joy, Vanguar sprayed an aromatic stream of jizz onto Drek's belly.  
He collapsed suddenly and Drek wrapped his big arms around him and held him  
close, his knotted cock sunk in his lover and a softening dick pressed against  
his wet tummy. Vanguar gasped for a few moments, then, looked up with total love  
to his partner, and licked his muzzle. They fell asleep soon after.  
  
Three days later, what Vanguar had been dreading, came to pass. Drek  
left, stealing away in the night, quietly and swiftly, as if he had never been  
there at all. But Vanguar remembered, he remembered that he had loved someone.  
He remembered that Drek had to find himself. He remembered the whispering "I  
shall return for you" that had whistled past his lover's lips at night, the  
silent promise. Vanguar remembered the walls of stone which held their  
passionate secret, and he remembered that there would come a time when they  
would be together again.  
=============================================================================  
, 1998 Nabeel Mohammed \<\>

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/n92Ry3Q1