Enter Sabre
#1 of The Wolf and the Lynx
disclaimer: this is my first short story since school, and my first post on YiffStar, so be nice, but please please gimme some feedback as i'd love to get back into writing and you guys telling me what works and what doesn't is the best way. If you're not in the mood to read some (awesome imo) story, just scroll halfway and you'll get to the good part. ^^ blessings of teh ceiling cat upon u.
Sabre's nose wriggled slightly as he caught the strange scent in the forest air. Tensing briefly, his body responded before his brain even caught up, turning ever so slightly to look back at Sheyla. His mistress watched him with a bemused look on her angular face, then, sensing he was not chancing a look at her - something that would usually be a punishable offense - because of any carnal desire, she stepped into him, swiftly detaching his leash from the worn leather collar upon his neck. Wasting not a breath, Sabre dropped to a knee, tossing the sizable pack on his back to the ground with a thud. He removed two steel shortswords and unsheathed them with practiced finesse. Standing warily a few paces in front of his mistress, obligations and pack forgotten alike, the all white wolf cut an imposing figure. He was more than 6 feet tall with a lean wiry build, green and gold eyes that blazed almost blue in the fading afternoon sunlight. All his submissive traits seems to melt away as the familiar grips of his two swords comforted the palms of his forepaws, a steely glint on his now stoic face. All this would have any passers-by believing that he was the dominant in the relationship, but for his collar. "Humans." He breathed, for his mistress' benefit, "Stay back." He knew her sense of smell was nowhere near his, she being a tawny lynx, a good head short than him and even slighter of build. The forest seems to die in those few moments, birds songs cut short, animals chattering and playful bounding through the undergrowth stopped in readiness for flight. He thought he and Sheyla should be running too, if they had half the sense of these creatures, but there was the missive. The damn missive. A glimmer broke through the underbrush on the left, sunlight off a bracer, and Sabre tore off, almost loping towards the infraction against natures beauty. Just then, three more humans, dressed in scouting armor, stumbled out into the clearing to his right. Stopping his advance, Sabre slowly stepped back to keep himself between the humans and his mistress as best he could. "What have we here?" Called the one on the left, brushing some burrs from his lanky hair, " A big bad wolf and his little kitty-bitch?" A growl came up from his throat unbidden, but he checked it, knowing anger had no place on the battlefield, except lain with the dead. He let the four men have a second to breathe, seeing they were winded from trekking through the thick forest. Obviously they were either raw recruits, or not at all used to this type of terrain, for it seems like they had picked the toughest route through the forest, and seemed determined to hack a path before even considering looking for one. From the raucous laughs on his right, he guessed they were raw recruits, sure of themselves because of their number advantage. "You die first." Sabre pointed a sword at the man by himself and watched as his face dropped, laughter replaced for a second with astonishment, then anger. Good, Sabre thought, let them be angry. With a bound and a few steps, he closed the distance between himself and the lone soldier, and severed the arteries in the mans thighs with his left-hand sword, while he was still fumbling to get his sword out. As the soldier screamed attempting feebly to keep his lifeblood from soaking the ground, Sabre turned to see two of the other scouts approaching him warily, spreading out to either side, as the third made his way over to Sheyla. "Sheyla!" He called out, taking his eyes off the two humans for just a moment to see her wave him off, her eyes never leaving the solider advancing on her. He chuckled a bit to himself, glad he had killed the one that made the "kitty-bitch" comment quickly. She would have made him suffer the likes of which Sabre didn't even want to ponder. Focusing on the two on his sides now, he watched as the left, then right soldier made poorly executed feints. "No, no.... you have to put your weight into a feint if you want it to be believable." he called to them, stance switching every so often to protect a different side, "Like this!" He took a step towards the right-hand soldier, blade flashing above his head to stop a foot or so from the soldier, watching as the human recoiled, sword coming up feebly to protect his face. The left-hand soldier thought this was his opening, and as he lunged, never saw the blade that ran through his stomach and clinked sickeningly against his spine. The last soldier ran in terror, dropping his sword and screaming to high hell that he'd be back. Sabre severely doubted it, not even with friends. He bent to wipe the blood from his blades on the shirt of the dead soldier, still twitching and moaning from the stomach wound, and walked over to his mistress to sheath his sword. Upon his approach, he noticed the soldier that had gone after her, his head bent at a sickening angle, grin still apparent on his face. "Never saw it coming." Her sultry voice caressed his ears from first to last syllable, a smile showed her pointy feline teeth as he looked up to see if she was as unhurt as she sounded. "Thats three, Sabre, though i will only punish you for one." She winked and hooked the leash back on him as a barely audible whine escaped his muzzle. There he was again, Sabre the bitch-pup in full effect. His shoulders rounded and eyes lowered as he looked at the ground, tail no longer needed for precise balance, it tucked slightly between his legs as he walked a few paces ahead of the lynx. "Three, mistress?" He dared not look at her again, so he just kept plodding along at an even pace, making sure there was enough slack in the leash to keep from tripping or choking himself. "Three." She tugged at the leash to signal he was to look at her, "You looked at me twice, unbidden, but as there was a bit of.... danger, I will let it slide. Now as for calling me Sheyla," At this, he groaned out loud, not even realizing what he had done. "We will discuss your punishment later." She said this as lightheartedly as if they were going to discuss where to vacation. "Yes, mistress." A hint of a smile graced his muzzle as he resigned himself to having to enjoy it more than she was going to. Broken almost a full decade ago as a young teen coming into adulthood, he had grown complacent with the things he endured, especially with a mistress and owner who was - sometimes - as compassionate as Sheyla. Night approached and they bedded down by a stream in a clearing farther into the forest. As Sabre was laying out his bedroll and enjoying the sounds of the pristine wilderness, Sheyla looked up from stoking the fire and called him over. "I have decided your punishment, pet. Since we have no way to properly punish you here," She waved a paw ambiguously at their surroundings, "We will make due with what we have." He nodded gently, not looking up, but kneeling before her as she stood, brushing at the dirt and debris that was caught her fur ineffectively. "Remember, I have nothing with which to restrain you, or beat you properly," the edge of a crooked grin curled the side of her lips as she said this, " so you must do EXACTLY as I say. If not, you will regret it terribly." Sabre didn't like the sound of that, and wondered exactly where his mistress' mind was going, but before his thoughts got far, they were muffled, much like his voice, by her crotch pressed tightly against his muzzle. "Lick." He felt her paws tug his ears, pulling his face tighter against her crotch, and his nose wriggled again as her caught the scent of her arousal, swiftly invading his mind and forcing him to do as told (as if he wasn't going to anyway). His mind whirled at the opportunity to pleasure his mistress in such a way as he never before thought possible, and his tongue tentatively snaked out to caress the soft fur above her ever-moistening folds. "Not there, stupid." He let out a whine as she hiked herself up a bit, and pushed down on his head, so his nose was level with her clit and his mouth with her folds. Again, his wide canine tongue snaked out to touch her lips, lightly gliding along their lengths before curling up and flicking back into his mouth, catching her swelling clit with the tip. This elicited a low, dulcet moan from her moan that made him stop in awe, wondering if he had done something wrong. "Don't stop!" She pushed his head farther into her crotch, making it impossible for him to take a breathe that wasn't bathed in her pheromones. Only to happy to oblige at this point, he continued to lick exploratively, playing with her lips and her clit, all the while his cock cock slowly emerging from his sheath and growing steadily. She moaned and sighed on occasion, signifying to do that more, or harder, or not at all, and soon Sabre found himself past her soaking entrance and into her velvety tunnel, his rough tongue prodding and rubbing and lapping up her tangy juices with excitement. He was so involved in this process that when she tensed and pulled his head away, he whined and pushed back in, only to get a face full of or her juices as they squirted out at him. He licked his soaking muzzle as clean as he could, relishing her taste, a flavor all it's own and one he'd never had before. She shivered and held his head tightly to her, covering him with a bit more cum as the orgasm ran it's course, leaving her empty but full at the same time. "Good boy," She panted a bit as she scratched behind his ears and patted his head. "Whats this?" She tilted his head down with a gentle paw so that he noticed his own erection, his stiff dick throbbing with a spot of pre-cum crowning the tip. She tilted his head back up so he could look her in the eye. "Looks like someone got excited, " She said with a sly wink. "Mistress, I don't know..." He flushed deeply, clearly embarassed about his eagerness in the heat of the moment, "I've never done -" "Hush, I know pet, they got you too young, and you've never experienced the .... finer points in life" She gently scratched his chin and eased his awkward worry over this. To his astonishment, she reached down and took his Shaft in her paw, tugging it gently. Before his brain could register anything other than -oh my god what the- she kissed him, hard. At first it was one-sided and she allowed him time to adjust, but after a blink or two, he proved more than able and kissed her back with equal ferocity. Her hand felt like velvet on his long unused meat, and he let out a whimper as he shook with the pleasure she was imparting upon him. "Mistress-" What he was going to say, even he didn't know, but he felt barely in control of his own body right now, as his leg twinged and a moan gurgled up from his throat. "Shut up, and enjoy this." The hard edge returned to her voice, but the smile never left as her paw starting pumping the length of his reasonably large dick, using the ample pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. He nodded weakly as he felt her other paw reach down to tug gently on his furry sack, sure that this could NOT be punishment. Too soon her furious pace caused a tightness in his stomach and then, his whole body tightened as one and he let out a low howl. His cock jerked spasmodically in her paw and shot stream after stream up into the air, some to land back on him and some to land on her arm and belly. He sighed and shook with the last bit of his first orgasm passing through him, thinking he would do anything for this feeling again. As if reading his thought, Sheyla cleared her throat, still smiling down at him. "Enjoy that, pup? Well, so did I, a lot more than I thought I would. I'm glad I've kept you around all these years, and to think the time we've wasted." She winked at him as she curled up in her bedroll, too tried to care about the sticky wolfseed in her fur. "Don"t make this an excuse to be calling me by my name again, because god help you if you do. Now get some sleep, we've got a lot of ground to cover to get that missive to the Order." With that she rolled away from him and closed her eyes. The smile seemed plastered on Sabre's poor face as he curled up on his bedroll, and all the talk about the goddamn missive in the world couldn't wipe it from his face. He thought he was so wound up he'd never get to sleep, thinking about all they had done, all the possibilities! Son enough though, sleep caught him and rocked him down gently into it's dark embrace.