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Confessions

Yellow eyes stared out from under a tan hood, watching from their usual spot along the wall to the left of the throne. Slim fingers absentmindedly traced themselves down over the beads of a rosary, and the pads of them across the wooden cross when they reached it. Those eyes were always present in the court, always watchful. Many comers and goers would not even notice if a priest were keenly observing them. If they did, they would assume quite naturally that the silent and stone-like servant of God off to the side was just another court hanger-on.

In this court, however, one would be dangerously wrong, however, to make such an assumption. Right now, the watchful eyes were trained on the entrance way to the throne room. Beyond it was the ever growing sound of steel clad boots on the hard cold stone. A knight, or general, or some such person permitted to wear armor was approaching the king.

Those keen eyes turned rightwards towards their Earthly lord, seated on a dark and fur clad chair. Surrounded by strong men in brilliant silver inlayed armor. Black were his cheeks, muzzle, and ears, and indeed all of his head save a single line of brilliant white that ran from right above his nose up between his dark brown eyes and into where his short but also black hair started. He was dressed in a simple but elegant green jacket, with a few golden patterns woven about it. On the skunks head lie a band of solid gold with emeralds embedded it in at regular intervals. In his hand a staff of black wood or metal, one could not so easily tell what ancient manner of weapon the king kept at his side in court.

Yellow eyes moved back towards the entrance way, and beheld a tall man approaching by his lonesome. He was clad entirely in the fashion of a high knight of the land. Plate armor lay all about his body, save for his helmet, which out of custom and respect was left outside the chambers. It was a dark furred wolf, middle aged with some gray around the muzzle, and a mighty scar over one of his eyes. Sir Erinorn, the priest inwardly noted. One of the most valiant captains of the Kingdom of Merisbethil and who had several months ago been sent away on a secret and important mission to scout the woodlands of the northern reaches against foul implements of foreign enemies.

Erinorn knelt down slowly in front of the throne, and held his sword up. The knight spoke in a haggard voice, with many years and long miles behind it. "My sovereign, King Larimer!" He continued to kneel for what seemed like an eternity. His heavily armored outstretched arms with the weight of the sword added remained amazingly sturdy. Finally the black paw of the king raised ever so slightly from it's resting place of the chair. It was all the signal that was needed, and Lord Erinorn stood and sheathed his weapon.

Larimer spoke, heavy words from such a youthful ruler. He inquired about the mission that the knight had been on: scouting the northern border against possible aggressive actions by a neighbor. "Tell me, did you find any evidence of Daranthol meddling in our lands?"

The wolf lord shook his great head. "No, my king. The rumors were false, it was bandits that had raided our farmers along the border."

King Larimer threw his staff onto the ground with a violent crashing sound that echoed throughout the suddenly silent castle. He sat up rigidly, and anyone nearby would have sworn there was fire radiating from the dark eyes of the skunk. Still, he didn't stand, merely pointed a finger at the knight, and with a terrible and domineering voice shouted. "And tell me, my dear Lord Erinorn, what the king of Daranthol paid you in gold to look the other way while he plans war on my land?"

The knight was stunned, and horror overtook his face. Oh, his poor mind must have been filled with a million different desperate thoughts as his eyes darted around the silent court in agony. He knew he was caught, but perhaps he wondered how. Perhaps, perhaps not. He made no struggle, for he knew there was no point. Lord Erinorn felt the weight of his guilt. Even if he had heard the words of his king, commanding he be put in chains and taken to the castle dungeon, his graying and beleaguered face showed no heed of them.

As the guards took the defeated man away, though, he flashed a brief gaze at me.

Below my partially shrouded yellow eyes, he caught a slight flash of teeth, a wry smirk from my splotchy brown muzzle...

*

I lit a new candle that evening, in the chapel. My slender digits rubbed my temples and I sighed. Erinorn was a traitor, and yes, it was me that betrayed him to the king. Why? He was a knight; in the chessboard of life as well as in title. Sometimes one had to sacrifice a lesser piece to protect a larger one. Looking at the flickering candle I felt a tinge of guilt hit me deep inside.

That emotion had been rearing its ugly head a lot as of late. Lord Erinorn was not exactly a friend, for I had no need of such people, but he was known to me. In confession, in the court, at mass, and in a few other social situations. He was a good man in some ways, and his own guilt drove him into my arms. When he told me that he had taken a bribe and future Lordship from the rival kingdom, Daranthol, it pained me.

That didn't pain me because he had betrayed his King. It pained me that his faith was so blind that he felt completely comfortable seeking me out for forgiveness. It was a folly that many made. Seeking God's favor and forgiveness through me, for in reality I had neither to offer; only the placebo of such things. Lord Erinorn was trying to play a game beyond his skill level. I, on the other hand, played such a game on levels beyond what anyone would ever imagine. Nobody suspects the priest.

It was three years since I had been sent to the Merisbethil court. The previous priest was quite old, and had sent for another to lend him aid. That was me, of course. I studied under him for months, learning the ins and outs of the elite parishioners of the castle. Every detail I keenly observed, mentally recorded, and filed away for a time it would be useful. It was about four months after my arrival that my predecessor died. Of natural causes as far as anyone was concerned, as old men tend to do. The slow acting poison I used didn't have any obvious symptoms, and I'll let you guess how long it took to overwhelm its victim, if you properly assume I started administering it on day one.

I looked around the chapel. Stone, wood, and steel: the basics of any castle. It was no different for my own personal lair. The chapel itself was small, fit for the royal family and garrison, but not for outsiders. There were two rooms off to the side. One was my own private chambers, the other was a small room that contained a little library of books and a confessional.

A hefty knock perked my sharp wedge-like ears up and I made my way slowly towards the main door. It opened before I got a chance to do so on my own, and in stepped a man in a simple blue tunic. It was the king. I gave a small bow out of courtesy and noticed that he locked the door behind him. Ah, so this was to be a private conversation.

The skunk silently motioned towards the little room to his right, and my left and we headed towards there. This was not an uncommon thing. King Larimer was, at least outwardly, a deeply devout young man.

I took my seat behind the small latticed screen door, and he knelt on the other side of it. "Forgive me, Father, I have sinned." Words I heard often, and had come to relish for reasons completely unbecoming of a priest. Then again, murder was also unbecoming.

It hadn't taken me long after I took the vows before I realized a sinister truth. Taking people's confessions, and dishing out Godly advise was a huge high. It would give me goosebumps, and my lip would quiver in anticipation as from my mouth came words of salvation or damnation. That was real power. Even kings knelt before it.

I looked at the outline of the dark face beyond the screen, distorted but still quite recognizable. A sinner for sure, this one was. "What is your sin?"

Power indeed when the lord of the land comes to you to beg, but that's not what he was here for. This was about another sinister love of mine, something far darker than a little power-lust.

The king answered my question. "Homosexuality, Father Peter.." I raised my brows up and narrowed my gaze. "I slept with another man, just a few days ago. He put himself into me, and I enjoyed it." Now that was interesting, and I felt myself smirking.

"Who was this man, that you had unholy intercourse with?" I queried, and the skunk lowered his head in what seemed like shame.

"You, Father." The king looked up, a broad smile plastered across his normally stern and emotionless face. He looked up at me, and for a few moments we stared at each other in silence before he broke it with what can only be described as a giggle. My eyes rolled and I stood up and went out to meet him.

King Paul Larimer was there to meet me. Strong arms wrapped around my body and I threw my hood back just in time to feel my secret lover pressing his nose to mine. A content little sigh escaped me as I felt a warm and tender lick across my lips and cheek in a playful little kiss.

When they built this castle, the builders took care to make the small confessional room sound proof. Surely they had good intentions. Keeping the king's confessions away from prying ears was a truly noble thought. Certainly they weren't imagining keeping the king's moans of pleasure so contained.

It was a perfect affair, really. It was completely proper and even expected for a king to come to long private confessions and consul with his personal priest. Surely a man of God, who was sworn to celibacy wouldn't be engaging in adultery. Even if the king was suspected of infidelity (which was not an uncommon expectation)... nobody suspects the priest.

A tender voice came from Paul, a voice one might expect from such a young man; not the firm and mighty one he put on for show. This was the king in his most unguarded state. "I cant believe one of my most trusted knights would betray me." The skunk took a step back from the embrace and looked away, in thought. "He's already admitted his guilt."

I nodded slowly at that. "You can never really trust anyone, your majesty." Oh if he only knew how true that was. If he only knew how little he ought to trust his own priest and lover. He smiled at that and came closer once more, curling that gigantic skunk tail around my waist.

This was the level I played the game at. Paul had a genuine boyish crush on me, one I would be lying to say I really returned. There was some mutual affection, for sure, but I was in this for reasons other than love. It could never be public anyway, so what was the point. There were benefits though...

I twitched a bit as I noticed the tip of my own manhood rubbing against the inside of my robes. Well that was just embarrassing. I had gotten so used to every visit by the king ending in my nuts draining that I suppose just his close touch was enough to get my 'attention'. There was a time limit of sorts on these visits, so I wasted little time in slipping my paws down to the thick braided rope that tied my robe closed.

His own fingers helped out, and open went the brown coverings I wore. It might surprise a lot of people in the castle who saw me on a daily basis, but I didn't wear a damn thing under them. With a wiggle of my shoulders and arms they fell to the floor leaving me completely exposed. I saw Paul immediately looking down, and I knew he was staring at my exposed red shaft.

I gave him a playful ruffle in the short black hair atop his head. "Let me go get the stuff."

I turned and headed towards the corner of the room where a small wooden desk sat. I lifted the slender candle that was sitting there and lowered it to light a small pile of incense before replacing the candle. It was a prudent precaution. While the room was sound proof, it wouldn't prevent someone from walking in right after and getting a strong whiff of male and seed. The other thing I needed was that little bottle of oil. No, not the holy oil, that would probably just burn. Though to any casual observer that's exactly what my lubricant would appear to be as it was hidden in plain sight.

I upended the little bottle, letting the clear contents run across my fingers and palm. I started spreading the slick liquid across myself as I turned back around. As I expected, my royal partner had disrobed. He did catch me off guard though. King Larimer was lied out on the plain red rug that was covering the cold stoney floor. He was on his back, propping himself up by his elbows. I couldn't help but smile at seeing him there, so he wanted it like that, hm? I made slow strides to him, the cool and damp castle air felt even colder on my sensitive exposed flesh down below.

A well hung ruler may be cliche, but as I looked down longingly at the king, my king, it was a cliche I was okay with. His white underside was broken up by the nine inch black-skinned monster that was laying across it. It was a good thing His Majesty liked it up the ass, because I'm not sure I would have been able to handle that piece of equipment very well. I couldn't compare. My own cock was quite like me, slim and a little short, but like in most things in life I knew what I was doing.

I knelt down and ran a claw under his chin, while at the same time I was setting my hips between his spread out legs. He smiled and lifted those legs up for me, while I shuffled up a bit, getting into an opportune position. We'd done this enough times over the years, there was little need for small talk.

A simple nod from him was all I needed, and I lined myself up and pressed forward. There was resistance at first, and he rested his head on the ground below him as he wiggled back against me. Ooo, that was nice, that first moment of penetration. I slide in easy now, once that initial barrier had been breached.

I slipped my slender arms under the knees of my secret lover and lifted them up while I shifted my body up as well so that we were soon nose to nose. I buried my nose into his neck as I started moving inside him.

Sometimes I wondered what would happen to me if someone caught us. Sometimes I started to wonder if I actually did have feelings for him. Sometimes-- he clenched down on me.

A little growl greeted his clenching, and I took both his wrists in my paws and pushed them back over his head and down onto the ground. That didn't make him clench any less, and he rewarded me with a happy coo and a playful nip. I went a bit faster, and I knew I was hitting the right spots when Paul laid his head back on the ground and left his maw agape.

I decided to lower my body just a bit till I could feel that massive piece of flesh of his rubbing between our bodies. That'd be sure to get him going, and it did. He started pushing back against my hips with vigor, and I felt my knot begging to be let in. Should I? Probably not, but it hadn't stopped me a couple times in the past when I had. Looking at that face of his, contorted into all sorts of expressions of please, and listening to his constant whimpering and whining I couldn't resist.

With a powerful thrust that knocked the wind out of him (but not before he let out a surprised squeak) the decent sized knot popped past his outer ring. Whatever it did for him it did a lot more for me. The sudden rush of feelings all around that round orb ignited the most base canine instincts I had. I bit down hard on his neck, and pushed his helpless arms even harder into the ground as I felt my climax hit. I was oblivious to anything else around me except seeding my bitch, which I was doing for at least half a dozen strong throbs and spurts.

Things calmed down some, and hovered there, letting his arms free. I was immediately met with an earnest kiss. The show of affection knocked me out of my primal state as I returned the gesture. It was about then that I also felt a warm thick fluid seeping through my belly fur and onto the skin below it. Apparently he had a good ride, as well.

The next however many minutes were spent on the ground, embracing and making silly small talk. I'll say one thing, if nothing else being knotted hard by a canine was a good way to force some after sex cuddles. Soon enough I had shrunken down to a size that I was able to slide out without discomfort to him. I made sure to sneak a little peek at the gaping hole under that mighty tail of his, and relished in the sights of a little stream of white coming out of it a few seconds after.

He cleaned up with some of the towels I had stashed, as well as the blessed water in the basin, and departed as soon as he had gotten dressed. For my part I headed to my chambers to catch up on some book keeping I had to tend to.

It was scarcely ten minutes later that I heard another knock at the door of the chapel. He could not possibly be back for seconds, so someone else was coming. I made sure I looked presentable and not like I had just got done having a romp, and padded my way out of my room and towards the door. I gave a few sniffs. My nose was biased having been engulfed in the hedonism of a few minutes before so I couldn't be sure, but I wasn't getting any strong scents of it.

I opened one side of the double door, and saw a messenger waiting for me. That was a bit of a surprise, but nothing too out of the ordinary. He handed me an envelope, and silently returned the way he had come.

My breath left my body as I turned it around and saw the red wax seal. It was from the Vatican, or one of her minions of enough stature to have such a signet. My feet carried me swiftly towards my room and to the work desk I had. I reached for a letter opener and masterfully sliced the seal in the blink of an eye. There was but a single piece of paper inside; on it in brilliant calligraphy was a single line with a signature below it.

Conventus retexitur.

Archbishop Chateauvert

So, the piece had been revealed. Daranthol's knight was taken earlier off the board, now her bishop was exposed. Me? I was but her pawn, deep beyond the front lines of the other side. The phrase I had been waiting for years to receive had come, and it was time to make my move.

Of what do I speak? The rival kingdom of Daranthol had sent me to the court of the king of Merisbethil those years ago and secured my position with a network of spies. I was to become close to the young King Larimer, though how close I would become they could have never imagined. When the time came, when their pieces had checked the king, I was to provide the check mate move. I was to kill him. I'd assume a position of great power in the clergy if I succeeded. I had to out poor Lord Erinon as a measure to ensure the king trusted me, as well as for my own reasons. He was acting out of turn.

I stared at it. For how long I did not know. I felt small all of the sudden, my schemes and evil plots were all here for me to assume, but it wasn't so simple. Yet it was. I opened the small drawer on my desk and moved my trembling paw to the small glass bottle of holy water. Except it wasn't holy water at all, it was poison. I took it in one paw resolutely. With the other I grabbed a leather bound collection of papers.

I left my room and the chapel. I was walking at a brisk pace, something that was highly out of the ordinary for me. I was smirking. The board of chess pieces that I oftened referenced to myself was laid out much differently than the men at the very top of each side thought.

To them I was a pawn, and indeed I was in their scheme. They didn't count on my own machinations though. They never imagined their pawn was in fact sitting on a chair, moving his own pieces around. The papers I had contained the names of every single agent the Kingdom of Daranthol had within these borders. I had needed only one more, the name of the bishop. Oh I had pondered that riddle many times, which one was it? Was it even a bishop at all? Chateauvert revealed himself though, in the message he sent.

Now I could go to King Larimer, lay down the names of all his enemies, and once and for all have him under my spell. He already trusted me with his life, now he would trust me with more. I just single-handedly turned the tables on a plot that had been years in the making, and but for me would have succeeded in supplanting him. Oh he would be upset at first, that I had kept all this from him, and especially so when I admitted what my role was to be, but he'd understand. I had no doubts about that.

Then I would achieve a reward far greater than some clergy appointment or gold. I'm sure I would get both in great quantity, but what I would get above all is what I desired above all: power and influence.

I reached the great door to his quarters, and a guard raised a gloved fist up towards me. "Halt, priest. What business have you?"

I presented the bottle of supposed holy water. "The king wished me to bless him tonight. Surely you know he has just recently spoken to me in the chapel."

"Aye, you have more freedom to move about this castle than even I do, Father. In you go."

The door was opened and I stepped in. Sitting there by a fireplace with a chalice of wine and a book was the king. He tilted his head in confusion at my arrival and at the things I was carrying.

I walked towards him, and knelt down beside his chair. "Forgive me, my king, for I have sinned."