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[b][u][center]Musky Comeuppance

For Guy-Threepwood

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Being the ‘slave’ of a dragon lord wasn’t as bad as it sounded, particularly when he had as many ways to amuse the dragon as he did. Vincent shrugged his shoulders, feeling a little tingle as he walked down the halls of Lord Verdan’s manor, and felt himself turning a bit at the next intersection in the hallway. Rather than fight it, he went along with it. Better to obey the summons than ignore them, he’d found out.

He let his body go on auto-pilot, following the little tingles that came from the spell on his shoulders as he let himself sink back into his thoughts.

[i]Heh, who would have thought that a dragon would be a better master than a skunk?[/i] Vincent thought, shaking his head a few times. [i]Sure, he’s got a bit of a pushy streak, but...hell, better than being stuck with Sir Smelly Feet.[/i]

A little shudder went down his back. He still remembered the camp where he’d first emerged from the portal, over a...well, over a month ago now. All sorts of species, from bears to skunks to wolves and...well, he hadn’t been paying attention past that. He’d been a little too busy trying to find a way out, first to get back home, and when that didn’t work, just away from his owner.

And now, he worked with a new owner. It wasn’t what he expected, but it was better than what it could have been.

The tingles on his shoulders strengthened, and he pushed himself a bit faster through the hallways. He’d only get one more before he was in trouble, and the great hall was a pretty fair ways away.

As his feet carried him within reach of the door, his nostrils flared, catching a familiar, potent scent. Vincent blinked, but he was already reaching for the door -

“- and you see, Lord Barton cursed us, and we need help.”

[i]Oh...fuck…[/i]

The great hall fell silent as the door slowly creaked to a close behind him, the human staring at the gathered anthros on the far side of the room. The sight of his master on his throne wasn’t unfamiliar - Lord Verdan often greeted people in little more than a robe that barely hid his red-scaled body - but the two wolves were far more familiar than he wished.

Luggo and Bunko, the two guards that had been assigned to watch him before his escape, assigned to Sir Smelly Feet the skunk - Lord Barton, really, but it was hard to not think of him that way - and from the sound of it, no longer in his employ...and likely blaming him for it.

He started to turn, but the dragon’s magic stopped him with a flick of a finger. Vincent groaned as he was dragged across the tiled floor, his bare feet struggling to get a purchase on the too-smooth surface until he was forcibly stood in front of his master. The two wolves - both somewhat taller than him - looked down at him with a glare, and the bigger one pointed at him.

“What is...he...doing here?”

“I had to go somewhere -”

“No, you fucking didn’t! You were a slave. You were a fucking slave, and because of you -”

“Wolves.”

The dragon lord’s voice cut through the shout quickly, and Vincent let out a hiss of relief as the wolf stopped advancing on him. The dragon leaned forward.

“I will ask you to keep civil. After all, you are asking me for a favor here.”

“...Sorry, Lord Verdan…”

“Now, I know that Vincent here -”

The dragon gestured at him.

“-was a product of a slave raid on the other world. I also know that he was able to get away despite a great deal of effort taken to capture him and keep him caged. What I do not know...is why you are so upset with him. So, do take a moment to explain it to me. In brief, and calmly, if you possibly can.”

“Brief...Fucking hell…”

“I did say calmly, Bunko.”

The bigger wolf grumbled, and Vincent was already flashing back to their conversation back in the tent. Well, less a conversation than a giant ruse to try and get out of the camp without having to deal with all the problems of two wolf guards. A game of poker, a whole lot of favors owed...This was [i]not[/i] a part of his life he had hoped to encounter again.

[i]Calm down, calm down. You’ve been a good servant. You have to have some credit here. Lord Verdan isn’t going to just let them hurt you.[/i]

It wasn’t much for reassurance, as Bunko explained.

“See, we were assigned to make sure that this human didn’t run off. Yeah, we didn’t do very good at it -”

“Obviously.”

“But that’s because he broke the rules. He was supposed to stay there, and we even had a game of cards going for him. A game of cards that he kept LOSING, for that matter.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And when we couldn’t find him, Lord Barton didn’t just fire us. He cursed us. Now we smell like crazy, even after a bath.”

They sure did. Vincent could smell the musk coming off of them from where he stood, and it wasn’t like the room did nothing to circulate the air. The human rubbed at his nose a few times as he smelled the powerful odor of musky feet and dank armpits, shaking his head a few times to try and clear it. It didn’t work very well.

He didn’t even get a chance to say anything as the bigger wolf pointed at him.

“At the fucking least, we deserve a chance to get his favors. He lost fair and square, and he owes us.”

“I suppose…”

“Master, please, you can’t be -”

“Human. Silence.”

He followed that order. He’d defied it before, and it hadn’t precisely ended well. The taste of sweat had taken hours to get rid of, and he still wasn’t sure that the rest of the consequences had faded.

As the dragon considered, Vincent hoped that his prior service had earned him some credit. All the entertaining shows he’d put on, all the different private services he’d rendered the dragon willingly, all the information about the other world and the people there: it had to be worth something...he hoped.

Lord Verdan sighed.

“I will allow you and your associate to claim your favors from my slave. However, you must do it in front of me.”

“Heh, I don’t mind an audience. You, Luggo?”

“Not at all.”

There was no time to resist, no time to do anything. The wolves were on him immediately, grabbing him and pushing him down to the floor, and before Vincent could do anything, he had a face-full of wolf toes to deal with.

His first breath took the musk that had filled the room and enhanced it a hundred-fold. As his eyes rolled back, the human groaned hard, coughing as he fell back against the ground, the foot coming down over his face. It smothered his nose, clenching around it, while the pads of the wolf’s sole pressed against his mouth to keep him from breathing through it.

“Don’t even think about it, human. You owe both of us. And if you don’t want to pay up, we’ll just...help you along.”

He wanted to resist, heavens above he did, but the fogging effect of the musk made it damn near impossible. Every breath he took only enhanced the cloud in his head, making it so hard to think, and even harder to move. He turned his head to the side, but that didn’t even work as the toes curled around his nose, yanking his head back up, forcing him to look up as the wolves started divesting themselves of their clothes.

Vincent couldn’t look away as the two soldiers took off their shirts, sweat staining the pits of their clothes and making their fur stick to hardened muscles. The one not standing on his face worked his pants off, shucking them off to reveal a set of ass cheeks as hard as their chests, and as he turned around, quite a set of low-hangers beneath a full sheath.

They switched off, the naked one standing on his face while the other pulled off his pants, and it didn’t get any better as the naked one started stroking himself, teasing his cock.

“What’s the matter, human? I thought you’d like this by now.”

And the annoying thing was, he halfway did. The thick scent made his body like it, leaving his cock half-hard in his pants, but it was most definitely not willing. He shook his head, but only ended up smearing the thick smell of the wolf feet all over his cheeks, over his nose, and over his lips.

Even when that foot was lifted off, the scent remained, and he groaned as he rolled over. His head felt so...dizzy, stuffed with cotton. He heard some sort of talking in the background, like...Maybe between his master and the two wolves? He couldn’t tell.

Before he could get up, he saw one of them sit down in front of him, spreading his legs. He got a good view of heavy, wet-looking wolf balls before a foot pressed against the back of his head, and down he went. He yelped before his nose pushed into that hefty sack, and a whole different sort of scent filled his nose, muskier, thicker, hotter. He groaned, trying to pull back, but the force on the back of his head was inexorable, holding him down and grinding him into the damp, fuzzy orbs.

“Heh, go on, human. Take a lick. You ain’t getting off of my balls before you do.”

Groaning, Vincent tried to fight, but there was just no fight left in him. The musk washed over him too strongly to fight, and he slumped forward, his tongue slowly pushing out of his mouth. He dragged it over those fuzzy balls, groaning at the taste.

“Heh, again, boy...again…”

Another lick, and then another, flooded his mouth with that musky flavor, the smell too thick to escape and too strong to fight. His tongue flicked over them again and again, urged on by the wolves and the foot on the back of his head, until the flavor slowly began to fade. The realization that he was essentially giving their muskiest parts a tongue-bath was not lost on him, and he shuddered as he realized what he was doing.

The wolf’s balls swayed as he gave them one final lick, and he was finally allowed up. Not far, though. He’d barely gotten to his feet when the other wolf lifted up his arm. He was shoved, hard, right into that wet pit, the arm coming down over his head and pinning him in the musky darkness.

“Work this over now, boy. Go on…”

He didn’t have a choice. He groaned, licking away in the darkness, his tongue flicking over damp fur and hot skin, somehow more humiliating than the ball-licking that he’d just gone through.

No, much more humiliating, if only for the slap, slap, slap of a hand on a specific part of flesh behind him. It was almost as familiar as his own masturbation would have been, and for good reason. He’d heard Lord Verdan do it a few hundred times, by now.

Vincent groaned, the arm coming up, but only for a moment before he was shoved under the other one. His only relief?

“Be careful with him, boys. After all, he has to come back to me in the end...and I do not intend to accept damaged property.”

The arm on his head lightened at that...not much, but a bit. And that was all that mattered. He licked away, hoping that this hell would soon be over.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]