FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Fealty by H. A. Kirsch Copyright 2013

Chance was so completely absorbed in his task that he didn't notice someone come into the room. He shared a rustic suite on an embankment just outside of the university, and had assumed his new roomate wouldn't be home for hours. The dark canine said he would return in the evening.

The coyote was trimming his fur with a pair of shears and a bone comb. He took everything down to just long fuzz except for his ruff and the long drag off the outsides of his forearms and his shoulders, not to mention most of his face. It took hours, and he lost track of time, even failing to notice that the light had all but died away, hours after it had been shaded into sunset.

"What're you doing?" the intruder said, in a voice that was both authoritative and flippant. Chance recognized it as his roommate. He turned to see a tall, black-uniformed figure, in the instantly recognizable leather garb of the Junior Guard. His head was lupine, leathery black and furless save for a patch of dark charcoal humanoid hair between his ears, and perpetual stubble along his canine muzzle. The rest was hidden by a black leather tunic, black swordsman's gloves, breeches and polished riding boots. Jakob was a Shenaus.

"Jakob! What are _you_ doing? Why are you wearing a Junior Guard uniform?" The coyote shrank back and dropped his shears. He tucked his ears back as he remembered being harassed in the streets by the members of the Junior Guard that had been stationed in his village. The memory made him feel hot, like he was collared as in primary school, like he was mocked by the guard before being sent out into the Wild for his transition into manhood, like he had a sudden crush on his fellow university student. That last realization swelled his naked cock up between his legs. He looked down and immediately squirmed, then groped around for his house shawl. Chance was a sandy-furred Selnari coyote.

The Shenaus did not usually express much in the way of emotion beyond that required for speaking, giving them a decisive, feral appearance. Jakob was usually that way, but now his jaw curled up into a deserved smirk. "Because I've been officially accepted into the Junior Guard. I'll be joining my father, my grandfather, one of my uncles, and a few cousins in fulfilling my civic duty, starting with the reserve guard training at school. Don't trim your fur too close. It's getting cold out. You'll have to bundle up a lot."

"I can't believe it," Chance said quietly. Jakob reached over and handed him the woolen shawl. The coyote took it and wrapped it around himself, then hunched over and headed into his own room of the small cabin. Jakob followed him.

"What's the surprise? I'm made for this. We're all made for this, the Shenaus. That's why we exist."

"That could be just a legend," Chance added, meekly. The thought of Jakob following him into a private room was enticingly disturbing enough, considering their on and off history of knowing each other from childhood. The thought of the Junior Guard following him, leather creaking, boots pounding the floor? All of the deadpan flippance that the Shenaus could muster did nothing to make him less intimidating. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Jakob sniffed at the air. "I don't really have time to prove myself right now. I have a chemistry exam tomorrow. Now there's a legend. Everything's a tiny little collection of even tinier parts that we can't even see."

Chance inhaled, chestgrowled, and let it out. "Okay. I should study, too."

"Very good idea. Carry on studying, knave," Jakob said, flashed the same twinge of smug grin as before, then turned and gently shut the door.

Now alone, Chance desperately tried to do just that: study. Trying to put Jakob's new appearance out of his mind did wonders for his ability to focus.

---

Chance and Jakob had grown up together in the village of Varays. The two lived on opposite sides of the town, where Chance's father worked as a civil architect and Jakob's worked as "private security". Jakob was the reason the two had met. One day, without any real warning, the young Shenaus had simply approached Chance while he was digging in a sand pit.

Jakob stood with his hands on his hips and practically demanded, in his racially flat way, "Why are you digging a hole?"

"I'm trying to make a tunnel under my sand castle," Chance had said, which was partly true. He had fashioned a crude sand castle with the too-dry sand at the top of a pile, and was now attempting to burrow into the side of it. But the coyote had quickly lost sight of his actual task, and become simply enamored with digging a hole.

"Maybe you should have built the tunnel before putting the castle on it," the black canine said.

"No, that's not how things really work, this is a hill, and the hill's there already, so you have to work into the hill. I heard my dad say that to mom once when he was working. He was kind of angry about it."

Jakob had shrugged and dropped to his knees, then joined in with the digging. By sundown, they had successfully burrowed a hole from the sand pit into the rocky dirt beside it, the beginnings of an actual tunnel.

From that moment on, the two had been occasionally inseparable. Jakob was two years older than Chance, which meant that he became the source of street smarts that the coyote's parents tried to put off teaching. When Chance went off to the Wild, and stayed an extra year, Jakob just happened to have an apprenticeship with his father that took him out of the village school, keeping him from straying further ahead of the coyote.

That on and off relationship over years had now culminated in the two sharing a student cabin while attending university. Chance was going to follow in his father's footsteps, and now apparently Jakob was going to follow in his.

Chance tried hard with his studies that night, so he could get to bed and enjoy himself. Whomever had constructed the cabin had done a very good job by putting the two bedrooms on either side of the single living space.

A fresh trim always invigorated the coyote. He had always admired the Shenaus in their relative nudity, even if it was caused by his lust for Jakob. Seeing his own muscles and humanoid shape through just a buzz of fur was thrilling; humans had been doing similar things for thousands of years as they practiced manscaping of their body hair.

He replayed a memory as he squirmed naked on the regrettably lumpy stuffed mattress. No sheet atop it, able to smell whomever had it before him, uncomfortable until the point of sleep but adequate for the task in his hand. He curled his furred finger and thumb around the base of his balls and pulled them down into the equally furred palm, then started to milk his foreskin with the other.

As he traveled back in time, he started to change history. In that reality, as a nubile pre-adolescent, he was accosted on the street by the Junior Guard officers who seemingly intimidated the town into moral public order. Their uniforms were the symbols of brutish power as they humiliated him, held him down. Just as they were to beat him, another officer ran up and began to ward off the offenders with his duty sword. The black-skinned Shenaus turned on Chance but not to attack; to usher away, to comfort, and then to invade, to violate but so willingly.

The coyote had never felt someone else inside him, too secretive of his sexual interests thanks to all of the somewhat conflicting words from parents and professors and the Guard. He had used his fingers and various phallic stand-ins over the years, and had to assume that the real thing felt so much better.

That Junior Guard's real thing, a knotted, ink-black canine penis that slid from its short sheath as it bloated up to point-tipped slobbering.

Jakob Laryan's penis.

Chance came all over himself as a powerful wave welled up almost inside and away from his cock, then bolted up through it and sent shockwaves down through the rest of his body. He smacked himself in the jaw and chewed on his hand as he grunted, desperate to stay quiet as he orgasmed so hard.

He couldn't just ask. Chance kept imagining it, boldly striding up to Jakob, expressing his lust and pleading for reciprocation, all while completely nude. No, wearing a pair of boots. Jakob would be wearing his entire uniform, except opened up so his turgid canine dick could spring out and invade.

But that was only his imagination. In reality, he tried to act like nothing was wrong. Jakob had told him once that the Shenaus had a term for it: Selnari Ice. Selnari, like Chance, were empathic. They could, to varying degrees, feel what other Selnari were feeling. As a result, hiding emotions by burying them out of sight was common.

Chance didn't have any classes that day, so he planned to spend the entire time home alone, studying. Following in his father's footsteps meant academics, and his nubile interest in school had faded to a dull realization of hard work ahead.

Jakob had been right about his fur. He'd trimmed it just a little too short, and the cool autumn breeze prompted the coyote to curl up in his bed under a blanket lest the tickling draft distract him into canine pleasure. He spent hours like that, carefully transcribing key pieces of info into his notebook.

Some time after lunch, a group of people came around to the front of the cabin. Chance heard them talking, but felt only the most vaguest of presence from them. Shenaus. A few minutes passed, and then one of them knocked on the door.

Chance put his breeches and boots on, grabbed his shawl, and answered the door. "Hi?"

A Shenaus in full Junior Guard garb stood on the porch. "Where's your woodpile? Laryan sent us over here. We're doing this community service pledge, and helping distribute fresh wood is one of the options. And he beat us at scrubby." Three of his comrades, similarly attired in black leather, one shockingly feline, stood behind. The cat nodded at the description of the bet.

"Oh. You're going to give me wood?"

"Yeah." The furless creatures looked impatient, but youthful, not scheming.

"It's around the other side, over there." Chance leaned out and pointed with a creamy ash finger. "For free?"

"Good. You're gonna want it, it's supposed to get real cold tonight. A total freeze. And yeah, for free. The mill had a bunch of scrap lying around, too rough to really do much with, but they didn't want it to go to waste. I'm just letting you know it's going to be cold, so you better burn that wood, so you remember how hard we've been working hauling it around the neighborhood." The lead canine of the group gave a nod after his speech and the group moved on.

Chance looked around the rural neighborhood. He could see three other cabins. Two had similar groups of young Shenaus in full uniform, lugging wheelbarrows of firewood up to their woodpiles.

'So you remember.' That phrase came and smacked the coyote in the face. He tucked his ears back inside the cabin. The Junior Guard were all over his neighborhood. The Junior Guard had humiliated him for smelling like semen after fooling around with another male, back when he'd first discovered how to satisfy his sexual urges. With Jakob.

It was like a circle of irony that was now closed with the fact that he was living with Jakob, who was now in the Junior Guard.

Chance crept into his bedroom his bedroom so he could peek out the window and keep tabs on what the others were doing. Then he froze in mid stride, gripped with a sense of primitive tingling canine panic. The woodpile, and thus the black-skinned creatures of Civil Enforcement, were on the outside of Jakob's room. He'd have to invade.

The coyote crept up to the vacant bedroom and gently twisted the knob. It opened freely with an old-metal clunk and he peeked into the room. His roommate was certainly not there, and the window had just a crack in the curtains. Someone moved back and forth outside behind the curtain, far enough away that they were just a momentary flicker. Chance could also plainly hear the Junior Guard outside as they sent wood thunking onto the pile.

Relieved that things were actually happening as they seemed, Chance felt a different kind of quiver go through his flesh. There, on the absent canid's dresser, laid a pair of black leather gloves. They had long, wide cuffs for horseback riding or swordsmanship. They were worn with any Junior Guard for dress uniform.

Jakob was off doing something at the university, but his uniform was right there.

Outside, the relentless thuck thuck thuck of wood tossed from barrow to pile finally came to a halt. "Hey, we're done, you got your wood, tell Laryan we really enjoyed the work!" "Yeah!" and Rowrl! Chance crept closer to the window and peeked right out the slot. The group were off, wheeling away to someone else's house or back to the guard campus.

Chance tried to remember what Jakob's schedule was. This was the end of the week; he had a day off, whereas Jakob had some sort of class all day. It wasn't even sundown yet, so there was little chance the Shenaus would return. Perfect.

The coyote carefully opened up the closet, and struck pay dirt on the first shovelful. Black leather hung from several hangers. Breeches, tunic, armor pieces. Chance spent almost two minutes standing motionless, mind focused down to a simple point of nothing, barely breathing. No one came in, or even made much sound from outside. Chance then stepped forward and sniffed at the leather. It nearly reeked of leathery scents, tanning process and dried flesh and the regularly applied preservative oils. Underneath, the particularly musky and fleshy scent of the Shenaus, salty with sweat and faintly human-sour.

He lightly pinched and stroked at the tunic leather, hide freshly oiled and slippery against his fingerpad. The same gesture revealed the armor leather as much stiffer, but almost as supple. The uniform undoubtedly cost a fortune; Chance's fancy tall boots and gloves alone had cost an entire season's clothing budget. The coyote looked down at his tan breeches and the slippery wet spot forming in the fabric at the end of a straining curve, and his ears grew painfully hot. That only made him harder, so he rubbed at the spot, then sniffed his fingers in mock disgust. Sex. Unmistakable sex. His.

Chance stared at the uniform for another few silent minutes, then cocked his head. It really looked like something that would fit. He and Jakob were almost the same size, with a bit more pronounced torso narrowing on his side and muscular swell on the Shenaus.

But Jakob would smell him!

But Jakob had commented in the past about how the Selnari were always smelling things, and that implied he didn't smell nearly as much.

But sometimes Jakob _did_ smell him, sniff at him, comment on the scent.

Fuck it, Chance thought, and took the uniform leathers down and laid them out on Jakob's mussed bed. Then he pulled his own breeches and boots off and set them aside in a neat, action-ready pile. Just in case.

First, the breeches. They were almost too tight in the hips and the calves, and gave Chance a ferocious bulge in front. He felt instantly filthy, and wondered how the Shenaus went around with cock bulges without being inappropriate. Perhaps underwear?

Next, the tunic. That actually was too tight across the coyote's chest, and he had to leave the collar lacings undone. That left his ashen tan fur ruffing out, which looked nice in the dressing mirror but would never have flown with the Guard. Then again, a Selnari would never be in the Guard ranks.

Armor? Chance spent close to fifteen minutes struggling and growling himself to a spastic animal panic trying to get it attached correctly. Once he was overheated and finished, he wondered if the Guard helped each other dress. The thought made his cock actually hurt as it strained against the buttery suede inside the breeches. They _had_ to wear underwear; the feeling was far too obscene without it.

Gloves? Easy as pie, he just slid them on. Boots? And there was a big problem for uniform authenticity. Jakob must have taken them with him; Chance had to put his own boots on, and the fold-top brown prong deerskin made for a mismatch that didn't look half bad.

Jakob didn't have a full-length dressing mirror, and neither did Chance. The best the coyote got was a partial ghosted reflection in the window thanks to the sun sinking behind the hills. While the leather outfit was designed for the dark, furless body of a Shenaus, it still looked imposing with his ghostly tan fur in contrast.

Chance desperately wanted to jerk off, but that was out of the question. Jakob would smell. Everyone would smell. As it was, he could feel a bit of slimy lubrication at the head of his cock whenever he so much as tensed a muscle underneath the black, buttery leather hugging his legs.

The coyote cautiously walked around the room. His usual boot clops seemed so much more powerful. Every breath or swing of his arms made at least three leather squeaks. The gear weighed quite a bit but it didn't weigh him down - it gave him power, momentum.

The sword. Jakob left it on his bedroom wall, on a display rack. Chance carefully picked it up. As a child, Chance had assumed all swords were the massive broad tools used by the warriors who had fought the wilds back, but this was a fencing sword, or an old-world Japanese katana, narrow blade and narrow handle. Upon first glance it was new and polished, but as he held the case up close, he saw burnishing and wear and scratches that weren't removeable. It was old. Perhaps even older than him.

He started to pull it free of the case, and someone spoke up behind him. "I wouldn't play with that if I were you. It's awful sharp." Deep, slightly raspy, completely deadpan. Jakob. Chance's throat quivered and some spit drooled down his windpipe, prompting him to strangle and hack. He dropped the sword back onto its rack and scurried - into a corner. The reflex to run away was meant for open wilderness; Jakob's bedroom was quite small. Cornered, Chance turned around and pinned back against the log wall.

Jakob was wearing his new Junior Guard uniform boots, gray-green canvas pants that bunched at his knees from the tall footwear, and a walking cloak. As almost always, he was shirtless underneath it. His boots were dusty.

Chance had no idea what to say. He managed, "I," and then a chest growl.

"You shouldn't be wearing my uniform. For one, you're missing the boots. Those are important. Two, it's illegal. Imitating the Guard is punishable by all sorts of things, most of which are humiliating or community service."

"Humiliating?" The coyote pinned his ears back.

"I'm kidding. You're not impersonating anyone in my bedroom." That didn't make Chance feel any better. "Look, I remember what happened. I would have stopped it if I was there."

Chance tasted dirt in his mouth. He smelled urine, the musky vitamins from the Shenaus, the mind-tingling pheremones of Selnari. "Please don't do anything to me. I'm sorry, I just, I just, I just wanted to see what it'd look like on me."

"It looks good," Jakob said, and crossed his arms. "Now take it off. It's mine. I get to wear it, and you don't."

Chance nodded. Jakob waited.

"I said, take it off."

"Aren't you, uh, can I go-"

"Take it off. If you go outside like that, and I know how you randomly run outside, you could get into trouble. Plus, you should demonstrate your respect for me by following orders."

The coyote swallowed, then started to remove the leathers. Jakob watched, arms crossed, back straight. He stared but offered no more commentary. Chance left them neatly set on the top of the dresser. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Naked, his cock hung between his legs, cockhead exposed from its hood and slimy.

"Of course you won't. I don't have a fetish for Selnari dressing up like Junior Guard members, so no reason for you to wear it for me."

Chance cocked his head. "What?" He almost laughed.

"I do have a fetish for people doing what I want. Or maybe it's just all this crap they're starting to drill into my head. For example: you just did something wrong, and I caught you. You have to demonstrate your respect for society, by demonstrating your respect for me. Do you know what you should do to respect me right now?" Jakob sounded as serious as he ever did, which was pleasantly casual in the current situation.

Chance shrugged. "I don't know. Uh. Take your cloak?"

The Shenaus sat down in his wooden desk chair a few feet away. "I spent all day supervising winter preparations. My boots are dirty. Clean them."

Chance stared.

"I'm sure you know how."

Chance's balls churned. This had to be a joke. "Uh."

"Clean them. Clean the dirt off, and polish the leather. Lucky for you, it's Tarak hide so you'd have to take a wire brush to it to scuff it up." Tarak looked like prehistoric flying creatures, and their wings were sought after for their nearly indestructible tanned hide. "You wouldn't scuff up a pair of boots. I've seen you work on yours. You'd pet a kitten harder."

Chance ducked slightly forward and put his ears up. "Yes Sir," he said, and quickly stepped out of the room. I Will Go Get The Supplies, he thought, trying to think about the mundane details of the task he was on. He had them all in a cedar box that he'd made in woodworking instruction back in Varays. He came in, kneeled down in front of Jakob, and started working. The mere possibility of polishing such elite, authoritative boots was something that he'd dreamed about and assumed would simply not come to pass. Shining boots was for a lower class than he was slotting up into, at least as a career. As entertainment? Chance had heard stories, but none of them involved anywhere in Varays.

He was no longer in his home village. He was at the regional university, which had nearly a city built up around it, made of students and visitors. Dirt came off Jakob's boots easily, as most of it was already damp mud that could just be carefully wiped off with rags.

"I know why you were wearing my uniform. I'm not stupid," Jakob said, leaned over, and picked up the folded leather breeches Chance had set down minutes earlier. He sniffed inside. "Now I really know. Wow. I'm a little surprised, especially after that back talk the other day. All offended that I was joining the Guard. This is important stuff, Chance. Varays was a corrupt shitheap. Everyone in any form of government there, including their arm of the Junior Guard, was rotten. I won't be like that. I can't. You, Chance, the Selnari, you are the vassal to the lord that is society. We're learning this in rank training, by the way, so I'm kind of lecturing to myself. Alright?"

Chance was now on the polishing step. First, a coat of polish on one boot, which he smoothed around with a slimy blackened rag. When he stroked his hand up the long expanse of black leather that reached up to Jakob's knee, his cock stiffened up again and he let out a wistful sigh. He gave up inside, a little, enough that he could begin to outright enjoy the situation.

"You give society what it needs. Work, interaction, community. Society gives you protection and trust. Society trusts that you will work with it, not against it. You promise not to violate that trust. The Guard ranks, Junior, National, and Elite, are there to enforce order and law, and protect society. From outside harm, from inside harm. You might be surprised how much work the Guard does to help rehabilitate criminals. I was. No one was ever rehabilitated in Varays."

Chance finished the second boot's coat of wax, then watched as the rank fossil fumes left the polish paste and turned it dull and gray. He picked up a horsehair brush and started buffing the bulk of the polish flakes off.

"If you disrespect society, you are disrespecting the Guard, and vice versa. Society can progress, and that means resistance and change are not completely frowned upon, but you will have to prove yourself. If you disrespect a Guard member to his face, he has authority to punish you on the spot. On the other hand, going as far as prostrating yourself to a Guard in public is completely acceptable. I'm sure you've seen that."

Chance began the final step, where he snorted and spit on the leather and then buffed with a clean rag. All of a sudden, someone else's boot was in his hands. It was standing on his chest, and starting to suffocate him from the stomping force. It was close enough to his stomach that the heel dug in somewhere that hurt with desperate criticality, and the toe far enough that licking it was very hard. He could barely tilt down enough and swipe the tip of his tongue against the leather. That was enough at the time. Now?

Snort.

Spit.

Polish.

Jakob let him finish in silence. When the coyote was done, Chance kneeled back and looked up. "What do I do now?"

"Help me take my boots off," Jakob said, lifted one, and almost knocked Chance in the face with it. The coyote yelped and held up rag-buffered hands, then gently pulled and pried at the freshly shined boot leather. It came off with quite some work, as did the second. Chance immediately buffed them and set them out of the way. "No, I'm going to change, not get naked. You should put some clothes on, too. Something appropriate." Jakob let the slightest bit of husky rasp into his voice, and Chance picked up on it with pricked ears.

Chance backed away to the other side of the room and looked for his clothes. Breeches on the bed, boots on the floor. He stepped back into the tall brown buckskin and rolled the tops up so they came up over his knees to his naked, furry thighs. Then he slid his brown gloves on and headed back into Jakob's room.

The shenaus was in the middle of the final step of his own dressing, smoothing his tight gloves over his big hands. They'd been somewhat loose on Chance, but clung beautifully to the furless black canine's hands. He stopped and stared at the coyote.

Jakob didn't miss a beat. If he was surprised, he gave no indication. He just pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him. "There."

Chance stepped over and sank to his knees, then scrambled down and laid flat on the floor, with his sternum over where Jakob had pointed. His muzzle was just able to reach to lick at the back of Jakob's boot heel. Lick. He reached forward, cradled the leather, and kissed the toe that he'd just shined. It tasted like boot polish. He loved it anyway.

"Work your way up that boot, and then up that leg. You'll know where to go after that."

Chance not only reverently slobbered all over Jakob's boot leather, but he buffed it back to a hot shine right afterwards, as he slowly moved up and pulled himself onto all fours, then squarely kneeling. He rubbed his face fur against Jakob's thigh, nuzzled and licked, then nosed at the big bulge in the front of the tight leather breeches. They laced closed. He nosed at the lacings.

"I'll do that," Jakob said, and reached down to fondle the careful bow-knot apart, then spread the lacings. His sheath jutted out into, then through them. His knot quickly swelled enough to keep his shaft in place between the rawhide strings. He tucked his sheath back with a grunt, and the dark ruddy length flopped forward, swollen at the base, turgid up at the shelved and pointed tip.

Chance cradled Jakob's balls in one gloved hand, and gently pinched behind the knot with the other. He leaned in and kissed the tip, then curled his tongue around it. "I'm so sorry for disrespecting you, Sir. Please forgive me?"

"Are you _begging_ to show me fealty?"

Unable to truly suck, Chance glided his fingers up and down the shaft with the spit that he tongued and lipped all over it. Jakob tasted wonderful, like salty and spiced meat, like sex. Then he turned his muzzle to the black canid's balls, then tried to sniff into his leather breeches through the fly. So much sex, so much masculinity, so sweaty and gamy and so different than the dusty spice of other Selnari.

"Well, then you're forgiven," Jakob said, and kept his gloved hands at his hips. "I'm glad this is what you think of as 'appropriate' clothing. Obviously arousing to you, or else you wouldn't be wearing it, and giving me complete access to every part of your body," the Shenaus growled, then sank down with a slow creak until he was nose and nose with Chance. He reached up underneath with one black-gloved hand and gently fingered against the coyote's anus.

Chance groaned and grabbed Jakob by the shoulders, rustling his leather armor slightly and prompting the canine to stiffen up. "Are you really going to fuck me?" His hole squeezed on Jakob's fingertip and his ears seared with flush heat. Then he whimpered and pulled away from the dry almost-entry. "This is exactly what I thought was going to happen. I mean what I wanted to happen. Something's wrong." He pushed away and moved to stand up.

Jakob grabbed him by the hand, glove on glove. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just observant. The other day, when I startled you while you were trimming your fur, you got an erection when you saw me in my uniform."

The coyote stopped, mid crouch.

"I could smell it. Also, I could just see it before you hid yourself under your poncho thing," The Shenaus continued, cock pointed down towards the floor but still very erect, leaving a small puddle of clear precum on the wood floor. "I've seen how you pay attention to your boots. How you tromp around in that sort of dandy lord getup. And yes, I'm going to fuck you."

Chance backed away, but only as far as the bed. He wasn't backing towards the door. He silently climbed up onto it, then spread himself out on his back and lifted his legs up, furry cheeks spread apart. "You can... you can use my leather conditioner. It's in that glass tub over there. It works really well."

"And just what do you use it on that it works so well?" Jakob said, face still coldly unconcerned but voice sly. He walked over and inspected the mentioned container, then opened the lid and dipped a finger in. He smeared it around his gloved fingertips and his cock bucked slightly. He took a bigger scoop and splatted onto his canine dick, then massaged it around with a sticky-oily squelch. He suddenly grinned. "I see." Then he stepped right up to the edge of the bed and touched his slippery cocktip against Chance's hole. It easily started to press in, prompting the coyote to sigh.

"Anything I can do that with that's not dangerous," The coyote groaned, and his own cock jerked and slapped against his stomach. He reached up and tried to grab onto Jakob's leather tunic. The Shenaus responded by pushing Chance backwards on the bed and then climbing on top of him, folding the coyote's legs up as he pushed forward. The shape was different, giving swift penetration where Chance usually felt something more bulbous and urgent. Then the delayed reaction of the canine 'shelf' as the invasion widened and filled him with clawing pleasure. Jakob halted for a second, then pushed on forward. Chance whimpered and started to drool back into the corners of his muzzle.

Jakob, on the other hand, seemed to inflate with possession as he entered, muscles tense and sweaty where they showed at his neck, leather firm over his body, cock seeming to hint at bigger and bigger nudges upward into that very special place Chance hadn't heard a name for yet. "I really lucked out when I came over to see what you were doing digging a hole in the sand pit," he said, to a very firm squeeze by Chance.

Oh my god, I was thinking of that earlier, Chance blanched. He pulled in tight enough that when Jakob pulled back, the inevitable win as thick flesh pulled out made the coyote yowl.

"Kiss me," Jakob ordered, muzzle stared down at Chance's bewildered, prostate-battered face. Then he pushed back in.

Chance clung onto the black canine's leather tunic and pulled his back up off the bed a little, then licked across Jakob's lips. The Shenaus returned the favor, and Chance caught just the edge of the other wet tongue. Then he licked up hungrily into Jakob's mouth and came all over his chest. It felt like he had to sneeze, only inside his gut. Four big, wet splashes of seed arched onto his chest, and just like a real sneeze, he only felt stuffy afterwards. "Mmm, wait, that wasn't it? What happened? I didn't feel anything really."

"Too bad. I have to get my knot into you or I won't come. Even then, what if it takes me an hour? I'll grind you into the bed." With the way Jakob was glistening with sweat, like rain wet leather, he was not going to last an hour. The black canine pushed forward and ground his knot bulge at Chance's asshole, and plowed the half-full bulge right through. Chance let out only a muffled yip. "I'm surprised. Did you really just take that?"

Jakob's knot quickly swelled up, and Chance's eyes widened just as much. "Oh my god," the coyote whimpered. "Fuck me harder? Please? Please, please please please."

Jakob then pulled right out, prompting a more serious yelp from Chance. "I'll do it if you stay absolutely silent. Absolutely. No grunts, no whining, no whimpering, no barking, no begging, no desperately pleading for me to do anything. Nothing."

Chance bit back a lustful growl as Jakob nudged and teased at his hole, then reached up and actively covered his muzzle to avoid the gasp when Jakob slid seven inches right back in. The coyote hunched and twisted and Jakob's burgeoning knot popped right back inside. He did just as the canine asked and kept quiet, and Jakob rewarded him by pulling the swollen knob right back out. This time, the black canine reversed immediately and shoved back in. Before Chance knew what was happening, he was being knotfucked and the only sound in the room was two pairs of ragged breathing and the wet plop of precum-lubricated flesh slipping in and out.

The coyote had been playing with himself for years, but he'd never felt the kind of persistent prostate hammering that a knotfucking could provide. It was beyond an orgasm, and felt more like one of the very few spiritual experiences he'd had. It was like the most pristine moment he'd experienced in the wild; it was like the most delicious thing he'd eaten while on vacation with his family; it was like the first time he'd been touched by another man. By Jakob.

Chance stayed quiet and stared up at the sweating, leather-clad black Shenaus above him. Jakob didn't last long; the canine's muzzle lips pulled back into a snarl, he squinted and groaned, and then Chance felt the subtle pulses of an orgasm flooding into him.

After a good fifteen squirts, Jakob backed right out with a strangled grunt and a hot plop. "Oof. Can't keep it in when I'm done, it gets a little ticklish," he said, then turned and stalked to the linen closet. He returned with a towel and handed it over.

Chance had been fucked before, but not knot-fucked - Selnari had perfectly humanoid cocks. His asshole felt like a cavern and holding himself tight took an enormous amount of cramping energy. He took the towel and crowded it against his rump and whimpered a little.

"You alright?" Jakob said, and climbed back into bed, dumped down onto his side to stroke Chance between the pecs. "You were pretty eager and I'm not going to say no to eager."

The coyote wiped at himself and peeked at the towel. There was a huge wet smear on it, but it was colorless against the cream towel, perhaps slightly pearly. A lot of semen. "I'm fine. I just didn't want to make the wrong kind of mess," he said, ears tingling hot. "Can I... can I lick you? I mean like your face. And neck." He set the towel aside and started jerking off.

"You can lick whatever you want," Jakob said, voice softened down into a drowsy, husky purr.

Chance leaned up and nuzzled under Jakob's stubbled chin, then sniffed and licked at the salty sweat that covered his neck, then into the V where his tunic was haphazardly laced, then over the leather strap that held his armor on, then whimpered and came all over his wrist and the towel he'd left partly dashed across his abdomen. He covered his muzzle with his other hand, in case making a noise was still forbidden.

Jakob smiled at him.

"Why... why did I have to be quiet?" Chance asked, as he carefully mopped up his mess and wallowed in the warm emptiness of post-orgasm.

"It's rude to beg for sex. At least for us. Plus, telling you to be quiet made me feel hotter. And it made you feel hotter, too," Jakob said, sleepy but matter of fact. Then he sat up and started to remove his uniform. "I guess it's all a game."

"I was always taught it was special. It's okay to have sex with men because breeding is too important to just do haphazardly, but it's special. You do it with someone you feel close to."

"I was taught that having sex is better than keeping it inside and turning into some kind of terror," Jakob responded, stripped down to inky black nothing. "Plus, being open about animal instincts helps defuse them. A little dominance mounting play with your buddies takes care of the higher-level things where you might try to use your friends for your own gain, et cetera. I always thought Selnari were sex maniacs. I'm surprised you're surprised at what we think."

"It's supposed to be special," Chance whined.

"Well, it is special." Then Jakob leaned down and gave Chance a soft lick. "We should go to sleep. It's fall picnic tomorrow. Last time to go frolic in the springs before it gets really awful. You can sleep here."

Chance undid his whining tension and curled up against the wall, to allow Jakob as much room to sleep as was available in the twin bed. "Thanks." He thought something else, but couldn't bring himself to say it yet.