FSE

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Splicer swore as he felt the branch thwack against his nose. The wolf paused and rubbed the ginger thing, cursing the gods for the thick thicket he was trying to traverse. Too dark to see all the annoying little things bruising and battering him, it was only a few hours of foot travel to the town he was tasked to act as security for some sort of annual festival but he just couldn’t stomach the travel. Everytime he passed through a spider web the wolf would panic, flailing his paws in the air and squealing like a little pup. It was a pathetic sight for a holy paladin, devoted to their oath. His only saving grace was he had no traveling companion for the assignment.

After the fifteenth spider web of the night the paladin stomped his paw deep in the dirt, enough was enough. He’d set camp for the night. From what he heard the festival wouldn’t be for another day anyways and he was tired of travel but most of all the constant sticky thread across his face and potential tickle of spiders crawling under his armour into his fur. He broke into a clearing as good as any other for a camp.

No more than an hour later was the wolf set up in the relatively comfortable campsite, his hooch was splayed out between two large branches severed from their tree by his sword. Splicer sat in front of a roaring fire, cleaning the sap from his sword. It wasn’t the most glorious task for it, cutting branches free from trees for firewood but it served it all the same. He ran the oiled cloth down the length of the blade, holding it up and inspecting it in the orange light of the fire. Not a scratch, the sheened steel reflecting his cold blue eyes. He brought a claw down the blue marking under his right eye.

It was a gift from his chosen god, not that he knew what it served. He prayed in due time it would be revealed. He sheathed his sword watching the gleaming steel disappear into the well worn leather sheath. Leaving just the glow of the fire, and the light blue radiance of the veins of his arm. He laid his sword against the fallen stump he took for a makeshift seat, patrolling the circle of the camp to ensure his protection circle was still intact.

All his friends at the guild always made fun of him for his oath of the chaste choice but it felt like the god themself had selected him to be their champion. The defensive spells they offered were impenetrable, he never felt unsafe no matter where he was, or how deep in it he was in. And when worries were a far away concept, boldness was easy. Hordes of enemies thought to need an army to deter were single handedly struck down by his paws. That made most of the jokes stop. Though the occasional ribbing about the cost associated with such power still was the talk of the tavern when he was around.

He didn’t mind all that much though. His needy dick was quite the opposite, a constant stream of pre nearly always dripped down from it. He figured it would have gone away after so long of not using it, but the pent up desire was always on the top of his mind. As if his god was testing his faith at all hours. He could manage the urges, just barely…

He threw another log on the fire figuring he’d turn in a bit early so he could get out of the forest as soon as he could.

He wasn’t asleep long. A single high pitch puff of a sharp note on some instrument roused the wolf from his sleep. He shot up perked his ears to listen longer, but nothing happened. Starting to believe he had dreamt it up, he laid back down. Just as he did another note came, low in tone. Then another single note somewhere between the two followed.

The random string of alternating notes started coming with shorter pauses between them. Splicer was curious from where though. He shuffled free from the tent and took pause, waiting for another note. Somewhere off in the woods, to his right he heard the note flying through the air from down a path. It was so vivid it was almost like he could see where it was, floating slowly through the air.

He took a step, then another towards the path, pausing at his circle which was still intact. Did he really care so much about the music? It’s not like anything could hurt him while he was in his ring so what was the matter? Still, as a soft string of notes started coming from down the path he had to know who was playing so late at night in such an odd location. He stepped over the threshold, taking his first few steps down the path.

Outside his ring the music sounded better, more full of energy. Constant strings of melodies could be seen flying through the air to him. It was like he could read the notes flying through the air as he drew closer. An orange half note, he walked further, a double half note hit his ear. It felt like the notes started to fill his head, making anything else that wasn’t finding the song’s source run out of space and fall out. His pace slowed to a crawl as he enjoyed the solo concert. His paw pushed a branch out of the way, he was so close he could feel it…

WHAP!

His paw let go of the branch too early, snapping back and slapping its slender body and tickling leaves across his face. His whole muzzle stung and his head felt clear. What was he doing? For all he knew it was a trap, trying to lure unsuspecting travellers into an ambush. It wouldn’t be unheard of. A new string of notes was flying towards him. Splicer clapped his paws over his ears, trying to block them out. But it was like they wormed into his head all the same, wiggling their way underneath his paws and slipping deep into his skull, bouncing around.

He kept marching forward, struggling to resist the spell hidden in the notes. Now he had to find out just who was doing this. Muttering under his breath a prayer to the gods, he felt their influence over him, keeping him safe from the music for the most part. Still chanting he came to a clearing, a small circle in the wood, the grass had been worn down well. Splicer could tell it had to be some often used meeting ground, but for what?

The black bat’s body would have been impossible to see in the shadows if they weren’t so well lit by the symphony of bright notes of orange dancing around his body as he continued his own dancing with his eyes shut tight, focusing on his performance and feeling the music. Aside from a twin peaked black hat with a brown sash above the rim and a brown furred scarf, clasped with a golden buckle, the bat was naked. Splicer could see their sheath on full display as if they had never heard of pants before. Their tail swung in time with the melody, turning to and fro the bat didn’t even see the wolf show up.

Splicer cleared his throat, the music halted, notes froze in midair and slowly began to fade away. The bat turned to the sound, finding the wolf exactly where he expected they’d be.

“Ahhhh good evening lobo, my name is Murciel Labo. I have been expecting you tonight, hopeful it hasn’t been too much a fright!” Murciel said, voice as soothing as their flute’s song.

“Rhymes huh? In any case, I can tell that the music you’re playing is enchanted bard. What are you doing out here playing it for no one?” Splicer asked the odd bat. Noting the odd dialect choice and slightly thick accent. He had heard of the language before but wasn’t too versed in it.

“Not for no one, did you not come?”

“You knew I was here?”

“Yes you see, I spotted you while up in my tree.”

“That whole rhyming thing is cute and all but what do you want?”

“I have a big performance come the morrow, for that I’m going to need your oro.”

“Good luck with that.” Splicer crossed his arms over his chest plate. Did the bat really think by playing some cheap enchanted tune it would make him instantly fork over all his hard earned gold?

“If you’re so inclined, I’m sure my music can change your mind!”

Murciel’s eyes took on a soft glow as they placed their flute back to their mouth. Sure his honey words weren’t working but he just had to find the right string of notes to enthrall the wolf. The music resumed, notes swirling around the bat, gaining energy, glowing brightly until it was a whirlwind of amber. They flew over to the wolf dancing in and around, entering one ear and out the other.

Splicer closed his eyes and resumed chanting. He was sure if the bat could see their tricks wouldn’t work now that he knew the secret they’d get bored and leave him alone. The bat didn’t give up, seeing the wolf’s muzzle forming silent words of prayer. He knew a trick or two to deal with uncooperative paladins. He switched the music’s tune to one of a hymn. The wolf’s ears cocked but he raised his eyebrow quizzically.

Wrong god, Murciel noted. Next one up. The tune changed again, again, again. He played each god’s song until he found the one which made Splicer’s muzzle freeze in place and he opened his eyes in surprise.

“You know my god’s song?” The awed wolf asked.

“Funny you chose that one, I think this will be fun.” Murciel said between breaths, all the while still spewing the special song of the wolf’s chosen deity. The wolf hesitated and instead of flowing in one ear, out the other, the wolf let one of the notes slip and stay. It was enough.

Splicer tried to start again, but his mind couldn’t find the words he knew so well. Hours of practice and countless days of devotion were countered by a single note. It felt like it was bouncing around the walls of his skull, cutting through any forming thought in his mind. The note was met with another, then another until there were more notes than brain cells in his head.

So he believed. Why else would he be stripping his heavy chest plate off, letting it drop to the dirt with a heavy clank, exposing his bare chest to the bat? Surely it had to be the urging of the song that his chaps would fall the same way, kicking them away. The wolf left standing in a sliver of moonlight which accented his grey fur.

Splicer struggled as best he could against the music, taking slow shaky steps towards the bat who was still furiously letting the notes fly out. Splicer could see the magic slowing down from a whirlwind to a slow melody, flowing through the air. The closer he got to the bat, the more concrete the structure was until he could see the whole score.

Murciel could see the glowing lines of his magic work their wonders. He had them, hook line and sinker. The lines guiding the musical score wrapped around the wolf’s wrists, he used one paw to continue the fluting, while the other paw clutched the line connecting the two and tugged hard, drawing the wolf closer.

Splicer stumbled, momentarily finding half clarity came to him. He looked this way and that, trying to avoid getting more enthralled. He closed one eye, unable to look away from the now seemingly swirling amber eyes of the bat. His paws struggled against their bind but the amber lines stuck to him like glue.

“Please be calm, I’ve no intent to cause you harm. Look right at me and you will see…” Murciel spoke softly between breaths, adding the lyrics to the dancing music entering the wolf’s ear.

Splicer tried to block the words out, tried not to listen. But he could tell there was truth in the words. The bat’s flute played a final note. So high pitched in frequency it made the wolf’s ear’s stand on end and his eyes snap wide open, locked deep into the bat’s swirling, beautiful eyes.

The music stopped, Splicer’s shoulders slumped forward, a trickle of drool ran down to his chin. He didn’t resist the bat pulling him closer by the magical lead. Why would he, the bat just wanted to give him a song, surely he should show appreciation in some form. He really did appreciate it too, step by step the wolf drew closer until the bat was gently rubbing him under the chin. Splicer shivered with pleasure, he could still hear the notes echoing around in his mind. He was hoping they would stay there forever.

Murciel noted how much better the wolf looked like this. Eyes reflecting his own amber swirl, drool steadily running from their muzzle, knot poking fully out of his sheath also trickling a stream of pre, tired of its long years of negligence. Seeing such a broken mind before him the bat could think of one thing to make the wolf look even better.

His purple knot slowly slid out of his own sheath as he guided the wolf to their knees before it. Now it was perfect. He traced his long length down the side of the wolf’s face, watching it leave a trail of pre down the side. He caressed the other side of the wolf’s face who nuzzled into the touch.

“I can see your little mente scrambled like a puzzle.” He whispered. “Now be a good pup and open that muzzle.”

Splicer was in pure heaven, obeying the words only pushed him higher as he listened to every syllable. He didn’t need to know them, he just needed to do what they said. His maw opened.

Murciel took the open maw, gently sliding all the way to the knot. Even with how relaxed the wolf was, he was amazed they didn’t give the slightest hint of a gag as he brushed the back of their throat. The wolf was a natural, gifts totally wasted in the art of chastity, but the bat would have a fix for that once he’d had his fun.

Splicer was drinking every second of the encounter, every drop of pre the bat dripped down his throat with the gentle thrusts in and out. He never knew it could feel so good to suck a dick. If he did, maybe he would never have chosen the path he did. He was so close already, the long years of neglect coming to a head as the bat’s footpaw gently rubbed it up and down. He couldn’t hold on a second longer.

He moaned around the dick in his maw as he spilt his divine seed. He should have been crying, begging for forgiveness. But under the bat’s influence he was begging for more. Wave after wave of his paladin power was spurting out in waves pathetically after just a few strokes of the bat’s footpaw. He shot for a minute straight as all the divine energy left his body, covering the bat’s paw, the dirt, himself. When the throbbing dick between his legs was done, he was spent. He was tired, his twitching dick was drooling on the ground ready for a second round two.

The bat still hadn’t finished his round yet. Seeing the paladin give up everything they were, all because of his magic, was almost as pleasurable as the maw he was now fucking like a fleshlight. Murciel gripped the wolf behind the ears, ready to give the wolf a taste of another sort of divinity. His own brand of power to give to the wolf, straight from the tap. Those swirling eyes of theirs were so cute.

“Such a precious little puppy doing so good, Here’s a taste that will heighten the mood.” He gripped both side’s of the empty headed wolf’s face, pushed in with force, popping his whole knot into their maw. Their struggle, their power, all gone, all that was left was a swirly eyed pup who needed a reward for their obedience. The bat let out a happy hum, in the same rhythm as his twitching knot.

He shuddered, bracing himself on the wolf’s shoulders so his knees wouldn’t give out on him. The first time breaking them was always so special, always felt the best. He strived to match the wolf’s powerful display of cumming, but he wasn’t as chaste as they were. Still, as hot seed filled the wolf’s hungry muzzle, he was satisfied that they couldn’t drink it all down. It would come with more practice of course, but the now squirming wolf was trying to pull himself off the knot, a small stream of cum dripping out of his nose.

A small shred of sanity returned to the wolf as the knot popped out, leaving a small trail of cum on his tongue which still connected the two. Before he could get too conscious another stream of notes quickly filled his ears, played by professional paws.

Murciel wasn’t about to let the wolf come back to his senses so soon. He wanted to see how the paladin, who had shattered his oath in spectacular fashion, would try to recover, or not at all. The orange strings returned, not wrapping the wolf’s paws this time, but their sheath. As the orange lines surrounded the retreating dick, it pushed it back down into the sheath until the tip was the only thing protruding where it was frozen in place. A chastity cage, to help the chastity deity driven wolf try to regain their favour, fitting.

The lines hardened, forming an unbreakable orange chastity cage with no locking mechanism and no way out, unless the wolf was willing to work hard for the bat. Splicer couldn’t care less, he was just happy to be listening to the soothing song of the bat once more. Merciel played one final song in the wolf’s solo concert, a nice lullaby. Splicer felt his eyes slowly sliding shut, the last thing he recalled seeing was the amber glow of the bat’s eyes. It was the perfect thing to sleep to.

Splicer woke up in the clearing, splayed out on his back still naked. He shook his head, hitting the side of it to try and force the straggling notes still making it hazy to come out. It worked well enough. He came up to his armour, finding a note attached to the breast plate.

I have your only key,

if you want it back you’ll keep paying me.

Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll make do,

Go to the town and it’ll come to you.

The towns furs are all so friendly,

I promise you this isn’t the last you’ll see of me!

Saludos,

Murciel Lago

“Still rhyming?” The wolf muttered to himself, swearing he’d never see that form again if they were the last form on earth. He pawed gingerly at the cage, at least that could serve as atonement for his failure to his oath. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?

Splicer trekked back to his camp, swearing as he noticed his missing coin purse and tore it down before walking towards his protection mission. He felt like he was less equipped to handle the job solo. As the townfurs welcomed him with heavily, too personal, groping embraces. They escorted him through the streets towards the town centre. Frozen in solid marble in the centre of town was a statue of the head of their festival. The figure was beautiful, elegant, frozen forever in a dance of pure passion. Their naked sheath was on full display without modesty. Water streamed from the holes of the gold inlaid flute, which played a soft note as the water flowed through it pushing air through one open hole. The statue’s amber eyes were carved with such an intricate spiral, such a familiar spiral it made the wolf’s head get foggy. The spiral was so detailed it almost looked like it was swirling, but that wasn’t possible. Still, the festival might actually be a little fun. Maybe he could hang around for a bit.

Maybe he’d stick around for a little longer after too. He could do some odd town jobs, maybe work towards his oath again, maybe he’d be lucky enough to see them again, and again, and again…

He already missed the songs…