Salt and Flame
Hey everyone, it's been a while since I posted an actual story, huh? Well, I hope I don't disappoint - I think this is the hottest, most romantic, and kinkiest story I have ever written, much less ever published. Enjoy!
Whimper laid motionlessly in the reclined passenger seat, staring at the synthetic material that lined the roof of the car. He wasn't quite sure what exactly it was - it seemed to be fabric, but somehow he knew that was the wrong word for it. He stretched his back slightly, letting the pitter-patter of late-evening raindrops on the car body swell into his mind. The faux leather beneath him was brownish and scratchy, and the deer was oddly vexed by how much it resembled his armfur. His head lolled to the side, looking at the wolf driving. An unconscious smile warmed the buck's face as he looked over his companion. The lupine was slightly hunched over, his shoulders rolled forwards to make his height fit within the car. Not many things were designed for seven-foot-tall dog people. Whimper closed his eyes, feeling an obnoxious grin on his mug as he stretched his arms over his head. Charlie did not like being called a dog.
"Dog," he sneered, motioning to the wolf with his hand.
Charlie grumbled to himself, giving the deer a piercing glance.
"You've been up for what, ten seconds, and you're already being an ass?" The wolf sighed dramatically, freeing his right paw from the steering wheel and extending it in Whimper's general direction. The deer smiled lovingly, slowly lacing his fingers between the lupine's pawpads.
"Sorry," Whimper whined, making his eyes as big as they could be. Charlie didn't notice the display, as his attention was on the road before him. A little pebble rang out in pain as it was whipped against the undercarriage of the vehicle.
"You," Charlie began, pausing for a few moments as he changed lanes, "are not sorry." Despite his best efforts to hide it, a warm smile was growing on the wolf's muzzle. His inky black fur radiated from his figure, warping as the corners of his lips turned upwards.
"You're right, I'm not."
Whimper bent down slightly, giving the back of Charlie's paw a kiss. He'd always been envious of how soft the wolf's fur was. His own russet fur was coarse, resembling hair more than anything. At some point in his lamentation, he'd pressed his cheek to Charlie's forearm.
The car squeaked as it came to a stop, parking neatly parallel to the sidewalk. Charlie pulled his paw away from the deer, earning a sad mumble in response. Now free, he pressed up against the little plexiglass light mounted to the car's roof, feeling it depress and then releasing it to turn it on. Cold light flooded the front seat, and Whimper reflexively covered his eyes.
"Drama queen," Charlie snickered as he watched the little deer's performance. Exactly one instant passed before Whimper uncovered his face and glared angrily at his partner.
"How dare you," he grumbled, pointing a finger at the wolf's nose. Charlie feigned surprise for a moment, but soon leaned over to softly smooch the deer on the forehead. He was careful to avoid the little guy's antlers, not wanting to jab himself in the eye.
"You didn't deny it, y'know," he teased, unbuckling the cervine's seat belt before doing the same to his own. Whimper ran his fingers through the wolf's head fur, watching his digits slip beneath the silky fibers.
"That's probably because it's true," the deer cooed, grooming his larger companion lovingly. He pulled his finger through a tangle to straighten it out, making the wolf wince. "Sorry puppy," he mocked, returning to his work as Charlie rolled his eyes. A few moments later, he nodded in satisfaction and freed the lupine. "Okay handsome, you're all fixed up." The wolf nodded, opening his car door and exiting the vehicle. As he did, Whimper watched and gave his outfit a one-over. He wore maroon chinos and a white button-up, the latter patterned with little line-art wine glasses and flowers. Whimper smiled proudly, thinking back to the conversation from earlier that night.
"You can't wear black pants," He'd chided, "You are a black wolf!"
Charlie closed his door, then pacing around the car to open up the passenger side. He reached his paw out, taking the deer's hand and gently tugging him up.
"You look lovely, hun," the deer romanced, giving the paw a squeeze.
"I think you're complimenting your own work more than my looks," Charlie replied, imitating the deer's tone.
"You might be right."
They locked the car and began hurrying up the long driveway to their destination. Charlie kept his bigger body huddled around the deer, ushering him forwards while protecting him from the rain. It was times like this that their differences were most apparent. Even accounting for his antlers, Whimper couldn't reach the underside of his partner's chin. In fact, his eye level was somewhere around the midsection of Charlie's pecks when standing.
Charlie knocked feverishly at the wooden door, still hunched over his little partner. It opened a few moments later, and the wolf practically shoved Whimper inside before getting himself out of the rain. In his usual chipper way, the deer enthusiastically sparked a conversation with the man who opened the door. Charlie recognized him as one of Whimper's college friends, who he'd seen on the occasion he dropped by the deer's math courses.
They walked through the house, smiling and chatting with the swathes of winedrinkers and cheeseeaters. Despite the flurrying world around them, they stayed close, Charlie's arm draped protectively around his partner's shoulders. Whimper tilted his head back, looking up at the wolf. His tongue was poking out the slightest bit, a clear look of anxiety on his face as he softly panted. The deer applied a little pressure to his partner's side, queueing him to stop. With a slow motion, he rolled inwards and wrapped his arms around the big guy.
"Wh-" Charlie began to question, but quickly surrendered to the embrace. He bend over a little bit, pressing his nose between his lover's antlers and taking a drawn out breath of his soft smell. His heart slowed slightly.
"I know this isn't really your scene," Whimper whispered. "Thanks for coming."
Then, he released the hug, and they continued to passively mingle.
Hours passed, and Charlie managed to get himself tipsy enough to make socializing a breeze. Whimper had parted off to catch up with his old friends, so he'd migrated to the basement. It was dimmer there, which was easier on his tired eyes, and the atmosphere seemed more lax. The main floor had felt a little too sophisticated for him. For about an hour, he'd been chatting with a cheetah who seemed to be at least twice as intoxicated as he was. Their introduction was odd - the stranger had been rather blunt in flirting with Whimper - but Charlie wasn't one to hold grudges. The cheetah had thought the deer was single, after all. And, after discovering his error, he had yielded politely.
Their conversation had started very mundanely, merely making small talk about sports and weather, but things had started to take a raunchier turn as they both became progressively drunker. Eventually, the cheetah explicitly said what he'd been hinting at for quite some time.
"So, that tiny deer." He went quiet, looking over at the wolf expectantly. He still appeared dumbfounded, however, so the feline continued. "And, y'know, big you," he exclaimed, gesturing to Charlie's body. The black leather couch beneath them deformed and twisted with the motion, threatening to spill a beer bottle precariously balanced next to the cat. Charlie made a timid face, flattening his brows out above his eyes.
"You mean... Like, y'know?"
Charlie didn't want to be the first one to say what he figured they were both thinking.
"You must fuck that little guy's brains out, right?!" The cheetah blurted enthusiastically, nearly out of breath after his explosion. The wolf simply replied with a nervous chuckle.
"Well," he began, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. "Not really. I mean, he's teensy and delicate. I go gentle." The cheetah dropped his jaw in despair, looking at Charlie like he was crazy.
"What?! Come on! Think about all the shit you two could do!" He snickered to himself, failing to read Charlie's waning patience, and took a sip from his beer. "Big predator and his little prey."
Charlie flushed, looking directly at the floor. If he were any amount more sober, he would have merely walked away.
"What do you mean?"
The cheetah seemed appalled, practically repulsed by the notion that the wolf hadn't even considered what he was discussing.
"Okay," he intoned, "It's like... There's instincts, you know? It's not speciest, or nothin', it's just the truth. You wag your tail when you're happy, mine sweeps around low when I'm anxious, yadda yadda."
Charlie nodded, seeming to agree.
"Well, that doe-eyed friend of yours, he's got instincts too. Jumpy ones. Shaky ones. I'm sure even the sight of me or you gets him all jittery." The cat judged the irritated glare he was receiving before correcting himself. "Fine, just you."
"Anyhow, you've gotta play with that stuff! You're a predator, he's your prey. I'm not telling 'ya to eat him or something, 'course, but, y'know... Spice it up! Bite 'im! Hold him down and just plow the daylight outta him!"
Charlie's tolerance for the conversation was becoming exhausted. The feline seemed far too excited about the prospect of what he should be doing to Whimper, and he wasn't having it. Eventually, the cat seemed to sense this, and his pace of speaking slowed. In an attempt to rescue his point, he added a final statement.
"Show him he's yours."
The previous little quips had only served to agitate the wolf, but that last one resonated strangely within him. It was oddly innocent, perhaps. He would do anything to keep the deer safe, and as much as that was due to love, it was also, in some contrived, largely disagreeable way, ownership. He was halfway through getting up to leave when the cheetah had said it, but upon reconsideration he sat back down. He still wasn't pleased about the situation, but at the very least the cat's point had gotten across. The two returned to their chat, but it was clear that this subject was not something to return to.
Whimper peeked his head down the stairwell, quickly scanning to try and find his boyfriend. He was surprised to see him sitting by himself and looking directly back up.
"Hey," the deer cooed as he started walking down the stairs. The wolf walked up, meeting him halfway and feeling his tail wagging frantically.
"What happened to your friend?"
"He had to head off," Charlie replied, pulling the buck tight and giving him a drawn out kiss on the lips. At first, the little cervine seemed startled, but after a few moments he sunk into the embrace. At some level, the wolf recognized that perhaps that initial trill of fear was a result of Whimper's instinct, like the cat had mentioned. He quickly barred it from his groggy mind, however.
"Ready to head home?" The drunken wolf asked, still looking down at the deer even though he was two steps lower on the stairwell. The deer nodded.
"Were you just waiting for me?" Whimper asked with a filament of concern in his voice. "You could have texted or came upstairs, you know."
The wolf shook his head no. "I didn't want to stop your fun. Also, upstairs is for grown-ups. I'd have made a fool of myself." Whimper chuckled at the remark, intertwining his fingers with the wolf's less dexterous digits and beginning to pull him upstairs. Once they reached the top, the deer reinstated their hug.
"I love you, do you know that? So considerate." He brushed the wolf's head fur, then continued. "My puppy."
Charlie considered this neotenous pet name for a moment, eventually working up a reply in his state of lusty drunkenness. "Puppy? Watch it, little doe." He bared his fangs somewhat, trying to appear intimidating. The sharp teeth glistened in the soft upstairs light, and Whimper wasn't exactly sure what to make of it.
"Okay, big guy," he said in a questioning tone. As he led them back to the car, they both pondered the lupine's little remark. Whimper, having remained sober (except for a glass of white a while earlier), was trying to recall if Charlie had ever been sincerely upset by being teasingly called a puppy. Charlie, on the other hand, was wondering if he should try and take the Cheetah's advice.
The drive home was long and slow, and the wolf remained nearly comatose in the reclined seat that had earlier belonged to Whimper. He took long, slow breaths through his nose, letting the subtle scent of his partner boil in his sinuses. The drive also provided him with an opportunity to sober up slightly. He was appreciative of this, because he'd gone slightly too far when drinking at the party.
The car slowed, and in his mind Charlie followed their turns on the residential streets. He knew they were near home now, and he'd had plenty of time to collect his thoughts. It was always easier to figure things out when he talked to Whimper about them, but the feline's preaching seemed like an issue he had to sort out on his own. When they finally pulled up into their driveway, the car came to a stop. Much the reverse of what had happened earlier that night, the deer unbuckled the wolf, stepping around to his side of the car in order to help him exit. The wolf took his hand, but rather than pulling himself out, he carefully drew the little buck into the car, resting their ribcages together and forcing his partner to lie down atop him. He pressed his muzzle to one of the cervine's spade-shaped ears, and whispered softly.
"You know you're mine, right?"
The air was dead-silent, and Whimper took a few moments to process the situation. After several drawn out seconds, he replied.
"What's gotten into you?"
Whimper's voice wasn't scolding or upset. He almost seemed hurt, not because of the wolf's actions, but because he worried he'd done something to bring this change in behaviour about. The silence from before seemed to echo itself, Charlie's mind trying to race but feeling exhausted instead.
"I should have known you'd see right through that," he whispered shamefully. He realized that the deer was stroking his fur carefully, and for some inexplicable reason he found himself on the verge of tears.
"Am I enough for you?" The wolf asked, his voice quivering. "Do you need me to be some big, bad wolf that I'm not?" Charlie couldn't believe the words that were leaving his mouth, and now tears broke free. This hadn't been something he'd even considered before, but the sudden onslaught of emotion was peeling back his veil of confidence. He'd expected himself to have said something witty and sharp, not submit his fears so openly like this.
"No, no, you're perfect! Charlie, I love you. I don't care about anything else, okay? As long as it's you." Tears started to form in Whimper's eyes, too. He realized that despite his brave exterior, the wolf might have been truly hurt by the nicknames puppy or dog. "I'm so sorry you thought that you weren't good enough, hun. I love you so much, and I don't need you to change for me. Hell, I don't want you to change at all."
The two held each other tightly for what must have been at least a half hour. The position they were in was profoundly uncomfortable, but Whimper didn't dare move. As time passed, Charlie managed to weave his thoughts back together once again. As predicted, it was much easier to do with his partner's words. Oddly, however, he found one thought still at the front of your mind.
"I love you," he cooed, then waited. He knew the words he wanted to say, but the subject was so peculiar even to him that it was difficult to start. Finally, however, he found the courage. "You didn't answer my question, though."
"What?" The deer stirred, looking into his eyes with an amused expression.
"You know. Are you mine?"
"I don't know what you want me to say, Charlie."
"I want you to say yes."
The wolf listened to Whimper breathe. He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled slightly faster. The warm breath washed over his left shoulder, carrying the subtle odour of some kind of melon.
"Then yes."
A low rumble boiled in the black wolf's throat, quickly growing to a predatory growl. Even though he was well aware there was no danger, Whimper still felt tremors of fear within him.
"I already told you you're perfect, remember? You don't have to put on a show like this."
Charlie was certain that the deer was being honest earlier when his fears had been assuaged. He was certain that Whimper believed that the wolf, all gentle and cuddly, was all he needed. But as far as Charlie was concerned, that was just a baseline. He wanted his little deer to be screaming out in pleasure, and if there was anything he could do to facilitate it, he happily would. And, from the rather obvious smell of arousal, the deer was quite enthralled by the little display of dominance.
"Okay," the wolf spoke foxily, "I'm going to take you inside now." One of his big paws held the back of Whimper's skull, easily shadowing it in his palm. His other paw cupped one of the deer's buttcheeks, applying a slight pressure so he could feel the perky flesh contort and deform at his whim. A little shiver ran through the deer's spine in response to the domineering behaviour. He was surprised at how enticing the predatory handling was, but he was still anxious that the wolf was changing himself to fit some bizzare ideal.
"We can do whatever you want, hun. Promise me you're doing what you want to, and not what you think I want you to do."
Charlie didn't reply. Instead, he pressed his snarling maw to the buck's ear, letting a sharp growl fill his partner's mind. Then, he extended his slick tongue, pressing it deep within the canal. Inside of Whimper's ear, his tongue deftly rolled and prodded, slickening the entire membrane and drenching it deep inside. The deer squeaked in surprise and tried to squirm away, but Charlie was magnitudes stronger.
When he eventually withdrew his tongue, saliva was pooling in the little buck's ear. Charlie smiled at his handiwork, then carefully stepped out of the car, still clutching the deer by ass and head. He closed the door, then tucked Whimper's neck in the crook of his shoulder, allowing the hand from his head to carefully hold his back.
"I hope you weren't planning on getting much sleep tonight," the wolf spoke matter-of-factly. Whimper's whole body was shivering now, warning him to leave the predator, but every conscious part of his mind was begging him to stay. It was a very odd sensation - it felt so taboo, and oddly electric. The night continued unfolding without Whimper's full attention - they entered the house at some point, but the only thing the deer payed attention to were the claws trailing up and down his delicate body. With a soft thump, Charlie laid his lover down on the bed. As he tried to stand up, he felt the little cervine's arms and legs clinging needfully to him, and he smiled posessively.
"I'm not going anywhere, tidbit."
With another shiver, the deer released his partner. Every attempt he made to think was quickly shot down by the adrenaline pouring through his veins, and his heart was simply fluttering. Charlie stood, showing off his full height in front of the buck he'd splayed out before himself. His fingers took to unbuttoning his shirt, then carefully pulling it off and discarding it. Although he maintained a cool exterior, he was struggling with worry and excitement in his own mind. He'd never seen the deer get into this sort of frazzled state - clearly the performance was working.
As Whimper stared onwards, the wolf continued to undress himself. There was only a button and zipper securing his pants, and finally his charcoal colored underwear were in view. The deer looked on eagerly, admiring that full sheath that was so carefully hugged by the fabric. It looked as if the underwear were almost struggling to contain it, as well as the plump orbs that dangled beneath. The sheath was easily the size of Whimper's fist, if not twice that large, and if that was not an apt predictor of what the fleshy sleeve housed, nothing was.
"Stop it," Whimper nervously giggled, feeling the blooming redness on his cheeks. There was a silly smile on his face now, the absurdity of the situation not entirely meshing with the intensity. The wolf returned the smile somewhat - he wasn't made of stone, after all - and sat down on the bed next to his petit partner. He nosed the cervine's ear once again, feeling the soft, velvety fluff against his snout. He let out a quiet growl, but the closeness made the noise roar in the buck's mind. Charlie took his large left paw and rested it on Whimper's quivering chest. He swept his other arm behind his back, cradling his partner gently and slowly scooching him to sit upright at the bed's headrest. Still hugging, the lupine let his grumble quaver away, adding one last swell to the sound before ending it.
"I love you, Whimper."
The deer wordlessly mouthed the automatic reply, then let himself go limp against the pillows behind him. Charlie reached to the bedside. He fished around the wall for the lightswitch, soon extinguishing the orangey bulbs overhead. Soft light still bled in from the hallway, shining off of the wolf's glossy fur. In the newfound darkness, Charlie's eyes shone vivid yellow, making every subtlety of his expression feel almost ethereal.
Button after button came undone, clumsy paws hastily removing the deer's shirt. His pants were next to go. Whimper nearly found it within himself to protest as his underwear were removed - it wasn't fair, as the wolf still wore his - but he merely huffed out an exerted breath as his mind raced. Charlie knelt at the foot of the bed, grabbing Whimper's hips and poking at his skin with his sharp claws. The deer whined in overstimulated protest as he was pulled closer to his lupine mate, watching him bare his gnashing teeth and lick his lips every few seconds to help coax out that instinctual fear. His legs were forced apart, allowing Charlie to bring his muzzle closer and closer to the buck's sensitive nethers.
Once the distance between them was reduced, the muscular wolf slumped down to his elbows and knees, opening his maw as wide as it would go and softly clamping it down on Whimper's entire groin. His partner squeaked in response, the sudden envelopment of his pelvis sending shivers up and down his spine. His lower back had been lifted a foot off the bed to bring it into the wolf's jaw. Sharp teeth poked in an arch around his lower body, fully enclosing his sheath, balls, and a small part of his rear.
A sudden snarl made the cervine jump. He could feel the low vibrations resonating in his body as the wolf gave his groin a testing chew, pressing his teeth in slightly before releasing. The deer felt a slight amount of pain, yelping out in a confused state of pleasure. His thoughts became more and more sparse, his inner monologue clouding into a network of reactions to Charlie's abrupt advances.
The lupine's broad tongue began sweeping over it's catch, the sweltering, slobbery pink flesh teasing between Whimper's crack for a moment before tending to his small, drooping sack. The muscle atop the cervine's bladder tensed at the hand of some primal force trying to keep the wolf from biting through.
Whimper sharply inhaled as the teeth let him go. Charlie pulled his head back, letting his pointed teeth trace over his little companion's body as he went. He felt his incisors tug at the lip of Whimper's sheath for a moment, forcibly exposing his pink length before skipping over the flesh and letting it hide away once more. His maw settled when it contained only the buck's orbs, teeth carefully closing to just barely pinch the sack within his muzzle. The goal wasn't to hurt the little buck, of course - but showing Whimper how vulnerable he was seemed overdue.
Ribbons of saliva painted the deer's sack as that unyielding wolf tongue brushed over it from every angle. Charlie's lips didn't help but curl into a subdued smile, watching his little companion bury his face in his palms and drown out unnecessary sensation. After a few minutes of licking, he let the testes escape his muzzle with some gentle suction to wipe away the drool that soaked them entirely.
The head nestled between Whimper's thighs rose back up into view, sleek black lips glistening with distant moonlight from a window overhead. On all fours, the wolf crawled up overtop the buck's shivering body. Old bedsprings creaked with the shifting weight while Whimper's body tossed sympathetically with the deforming mattress. Although Charlie was far from physically exerted by his little games, he made every effort to huff and pant loudly. He rolled a humid breath out over Whimper's ear, forcing the deer to stay in a position that was just a little too close to his maw to be particularly comfortable.
"Just think," the wolf huffed, "How easy it would be." His ominous sentence was low and carried a growl-like tone to it, and Whimper rolled his head such that his neck was less exposed to the tremendous predator atop him. Charlie licked his lips loudly while he took Whimper's balls in a hefty handpaw, giving them a firm squeeze. "How easy it would be to make you a doe."
Before the buck had time to protest, Charlie shoved his muzzle up against the deer's lips, forcing his tongue into his little partner's maw. Whimper tensed for a moment, soon surrendering to his lover's advances and teasing at the broad flesh that was invading his mouth. The kiss was deep - much more so than anything they'd done before - and the deer could feel that tongue swabbing against the back of his throat. The subtle taste of dog breath now boiled in its unfamiliar home as wolf spittle dribbled down against Whimper's palate, making him thrash in disgust. A sharp growl quieted his complaint, forcing him to endure the lewd sensation.
Charlie looked down menacingly at his lover as they kissed, keeping his iridescent yellow eyes wide open. He was careful to ensure he wasn't going too far with all of this - despite his behaviour, he was still very much in control of his actions. The little moans that constantly blurted from the buck's maw were undeniable, however, and charlie decided to continue. He grasped Whimper's sheath with his big paw, slowly starting to massage it as he continued drooling into the buck's maw. His pawpad gently rubbed against the tip of Whimper's flesh, precariously tracing around the rim.
With a sudden, roaring growl, Charlie shoved his fat digit into the buck's little sheath. Whimper squeezed clumps of the wolf's thick fur to orient himself as he gurgled a yell of surprise through his mouthful of slimy lupine spittle. The wolf withdrew his muzzle, pressing his nose against Whimper's and staring directly into his eyes.
"You'd better be swallowing that," he rumbled in reference to the mouthful of spit that was making the buck's cheeks bulge. Whimper looked on in disgust, raising one eyebrow as if asking if the wolf was kidding. A sharp snarl before his eyes answered the question, and with much discomfort the deer swallowed the hefty glut of spit strings and fluid. He could feel every single one cling to the inside of his throat, slickening it as they slimily descended into his stomach. He couldn't decipher if he was revolted or aroused, but he did feel himself starting to gag at the taste and texture.
As if congratulating the deer, Charlie's broad tongue licked over his lips quickly, swirling his index finger around within the buck's sheath as he did.
"Feel good, little thing?"
Whimper fought for words, almost shocked that Charlie was under the impression he still had the capacity to speak. He managed a little moan, the upward intonation of it hopefully signalling pleasure.
"Cute," Charlie muttered, yanking on his bulbous paw pad. The digit was still snugly buried inside Whimper's sheath, and the upward force just tugged the combination of the two up, the taut opening hardly ready to expand and free the wolf's paw.
"Seems I'm stuck." He took Whimper's hand in his paw, carefully guiding it to cup his distended sheath. "Feel that?" The bony digit twitched under the stretched flesh, letting the deer feel his ministrations both inside and out. Then, with careful pressure, the wolf began to pull his index up slowly. The velvety inside of the buck's sheath clung to it as best it could, but it eventually let loose, the opening forcefully dilating twofold with a wet pop.
Charlie brought the slickened finger to his muzzle, starting to lap off the pre and sheathfluid that soaked his finger. He grumbled deeply for Whimper's benefit as he did so, keeping the little male held flush against his body. He was eager to continue, but the deer's rapid breathing and taut muscles made him pensive.
"You doing okay, sweetie?" His voice had lost its domineering, predatory tone, instead returning to a saccharine coo. A soft kiss fell on the back of Whimper's head, and the wolf shifted into a cuddlier position.
For a while, the deer was silent, only taking in slow breaths and then releasing them after a slight pause. As he calmed himself, however, he managed to regain his speech.
"I'm okay." He spun around in the wolf's embrace, burying his face in the bigger male's shoulder. His words now muffled through lupine chestfur, he continued. "That's some really intense stuff you're doing to me."
"Good intense?" Charlie prodded.
"Yeah, definitely." His head slid back up, and he pressed his nose to the wolf's. "I think we need to take a break, though. I might actually have a heart attack."
"Poor deer. What do you want to do for now, then?"
Whimper stared into his lover's eyes, seeing him in a new light. All the features that once seemed fuzzy and oversized now seemed predatory and murderous. It was still his boyfriend, of course, but there was a primal tremor in his heart that hadn't ever been there before.
"Let's... Uhhh... Sorry, I'm, like... Really, really turned on right now."
Charlie snickered.
"You realize I'm totally going to take advantage of this, right?"
"Y... Yeah, I'm absolutely certain you will. And I think that's a very exciting prospect. Wanna watch TV or something? While I cool off?"
"Jeez, little guy. You aren't kidding about being flustered, you can hardly put a sentence together." Charlie kissed Whimper on his head, taking a little sniff of his fluff before getting out of bed. Whimper was strewn on his side in a pile of blankets, wolf spittle matting his chin fur and his ever-stiffening cervine cock nearing full mast.
The wolf picked up the jeans he'd tossed to the floor, fishing around in the pocket to get his phone. Then, he sat down next to his partner, passing the huge touchscreen over while he cozied himself back up.
"Find something on Netflix, sweetie. That should give your overstimulated brain something to cool off with."
The deer took the phone, having to hold it in both hands. It was much better fitted to the big paws of a wolf rather than his little ones. He entered the passcode, 4599. He hadn't made the connection yet, but the little letters under the numbers coincided with ILYW.
For a while, the two of them snuggled, watching the lawyer show that Whimper had been infatuated with for the month prior. It was hard for them to ignore the obvious reek of lust in the room, and Charlie was doing everything he could to obscure his peeking red tip from the deer's view.
"Hey, puppy?"
"Yeah, pretty 'lil thing?"
The deer pressed the little x on the phone screen, opting out of the up-next menu. He put the phone down on his bedside, sitting up slightly against the arm that was draped over his shoulders.
"I think," he cooed, supple fingers reaching down and taking a firm grip of the wolf's thick, charcoal-grey sheath, "I'm ready to get back into things."
Gleaming rows of pointed teeth glared in the dim light as Charlie grinned evilly, making sure the deer was watching his display. His hips automatically ground up into those delicate fingers, little snarls coming forth as waves of pleasure tingled over him.
"You sure, princess? I'm not letting you put things on hold again. I'm gonna go until you have a nice litter of pups in you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
The deer closed his eyes, letting his fingers knead at that sheath as he pressed his lips to his mate's muzzle. The wolf fed him a hungry growl, slowly pressing his tongue into the buck's maw. He held him firmly by the antlers, forcing Whimper to stay in place. The wolf's other paw crept down the deer's back, dragging claws against his skin before coming to rest on his rump, squeezing and kneading the perky flesh.
Whimper could feel Charlie starting to release his antler-grip. The deer slowly pulled out of the kiss, opening his eyes and licking his lips to catch the spitstring between them.
"I love you, dogbreath."
The deer slithered down over his partner's muscular frame, keeping his nose pressed firmly into the musky fur that coated it. He pulled a deep breath through his nose, feeling his cock rubbing against the wolf's calf as he moved lower and lower. That potent, predatory scent bathed his head. So many other species couldn't smell it quite like he did - it was pungent by necessity, a blaring nasal klaxon that drove his instinct to run. Whimper, however, didn't run. He shoved his lips firmly against that thick, dark gray sheath, pressing his tongue against the taut opening ring and forcing it through.
Immediately, the little deer shivered, feeling a big handpaw rest on the back of his head. The flavor on his palate was immediate and forceful, thick, salty, with a subtle tang like smoked meat. He could feel - really feel - the viscous sheathslime coating his tongue, silken and creamy and absolutely screaming with lupine cockreek.
Charlie's leg started to twitch as the deer powered through, his tongue twisting around in firm little swirling motions around that flaccid shaft. It was floppy against his tongue, like a little rubbery tongue drooling precum. The deer was anything if not thorough - he suckled the inner rim of the wolf's sheath, feeling the border where the sheath grew fur against his upper lip. He pressed his muzzle down, scrunching up the sheath so that he could bring that dribbly cocktip into his maw, suckling it hungrily like the nipple of a feeding bottle.
The chiseled wolf snarled and ground up against the deer's mouth, absolutely spewing precum. His panting breaths were loud and jagged, egging the equally horny deer on. Thick red doggycock started to harden and prod into Whimper's muzzle, the little veins that laid beneath the surface throbbing and twitching like little fireworks on the deer's tongue.
Suddenly, Charlie bent forwards slightly, extending his arms to grab the deer by his waist, which was resting down near his calves. His big forepaws easily encircled the buck's small body, holding it like he would a ketchup bottle. Effortlessly, the wolf pulled the deer up, inverting him head-under-heels, making a distinctive canine sniffing noise as he pressed his muzzle to the buck's taint. Whimper was still being diligent despite the blood rushing into his head - his lips and maw were still wrapped around that cock, his hands rolling the wolf's very impressive nuts around.
Slow, languid licks dragged over the deer's little pucker, made more intense by the hot exhalation that accompanied it. His buttcheeks were spread wide if only by the muzzle that was shoved between them; Charlie's paws were still busy holding his waist, after all. The drool pouring over his rear seemed to be endless, each lick lapping it back up before replacing it with even more of the slick stuff. It made Whimper's legs tremble, and slowed the pace at which he was sucking his lover off. The lupine made his teasing even more intolerable by barraging that sensitive pink donut with an occasional nip, walking the very fine line between delivering a potent stinging sensation and actually breaking through with his fangs.
Spit slowly accumulated in Whimper's rear as Charlie continued his work, the occasional hungry growl slipping out from his lips. The deer was sore from the extreme contortion that Charlie had exerted him to, but he didn't stop suckling that big doggycock for even a second.
With a loud slurp, the wolf raised his muzzle up, having decided the buck was adequately lubricated for the night's activities. But, before he got around to what his instincts were begging of him, there was something else he needed to do.
"So, princess. I figure it's about time I give you a reward for being such a good girl."
He slowly uninverted the deer, leaving Whimper prone on his back, thick dick in his muzzle. The wolf found himself quite amused by the sight of things - Whimper only had the first thrid, or maybe half, of his lupine dick in his mouth, but not for lack of trying. There was just no way such a little guy could fit that monster in his muzzle - it was already a tall order to get it in his rear, despite the wolf's strength.
"That's right sugar. Get ready to be a urinal."
Whimper shivered and almost pulled away - they'd discussed watersports before, but only very briefly. The little deer was certainly into it, and he readied himself to jump into the deep end. The wolf gave him a chance to catch his breath for a moment, feeling the inhalation through the nose pressed right into his nuts. Then, with a little clench of his abdomen, the wolf started to release his bladder. The pace was quite manageable for the deer, at least in theory. It was a slow trickle pouring right onto his tongue, but that didn't attenuate the intense flavour. Wolf piss was one of most vile liquids there was - a chemical cocktail of bitter, tangy pheromones, stinging ammonia, uric acid, and a whole host of other things. But, most immediately, it was salty. The liquid didn't ask questions as it assaulted the little deer's palate with a heavy burning saltiness, undertones of metal and meatiness just adding to the hot, thick, super-saturated liquid. And the volume was really starting to accumulate in Whimper's muzzle.
"Swallow, cute little doe. This is just the beginning, so if you're struggling now, there are gonna be some serious problems later."
Then, he reached forwards with two bulky paws, wrapping them around Whimper's throat as he reached it. Whimper didn't respond for a few moments, but he dutifully swallowed a moment later.
"Good girl. Now I don't have to punish you."
He used the grip for leverage and sank his thick, red cock a few more inches into the buck's mouth, pinning his tongue to the floor of his maw with the sheer girth. He kept pressing in, rolling his hips in and out gently to broach the deer open, eventually bypassing his maw altogether. His pointed canine tip poked into the little cervine's throat, serving as a guide for him to start feeding several inches to Whimper's esophagus. His paws moved slightly, feeling his own cock bulging the deer's throat. He growled in arousal, slowly lowering his back and hunching over his thoroughly used mate. He'd given up on controlling his bladder, now, and was just unleashing a torrent of lupine piss right into Whimper's belly - swallowing no longer required.
The deer could feel those big paws around his throat starting to ratchet down. They weren't choking him, though - his dwindling breath was more the fault of the thick wolfcock in his gullet than the clamping paws. Nonetheless, the pressure grew and grew - Charlie was fondling himself, jerking off with the little deer's throat like it was some sort of sex toy.
"Mff... Bet that tastes pretty nasty, doesn't it?" The wolf snickered, pressing his thumbs into the deer's throat and massaging little circles on the cock inside. "I can hardly stand the smell of my piss most days. But hey, you probably like it. It's a reminder you're mine." He growled the last word.
As Whimper squirmed and tried to inhale with no success, the wolf could clearly see his comparatively small cervine shaft twitching about. It was a slightly muted pink, shining with the slippery excretions of the buck's taut sheath. He looked his belly-up partner over once again - his lips were pressed against that thick, black sheath, his arms outstretched to hold onto bedsheets and wrap around the wolf's thighs for stability. The big wolf bent his leg slightly, curling his footpaw up and over the cervine's hips, and pressing his broad pads firmly against the flagging cock. Slowly, lovingly, he rubbed up and down with that footpaw, feeling the deer's shaft spread his toes. He smirked at how confused Whimper seemed now - he'd been struggling from a lack of air, and now he wasn't sure whether he was writhing in pleasure or need to breathe, or whether he should be writhing at all.
"Thaaats it, just the last few spurts, now." Charlie sighed loudly, rolling his hips back and forth. The deer could feel his head throbbing and his vision fading from lack of breath, but he did his best to trust his partner to stop at the right time. Sure enough, the wolf started to pull out, letting the last salty sputters of dog piss out on Whimper's tongue. "Good girl."
Whimper swallowed the potent urine, feeling his lips curl in a soured expression as he did so. Then, he was finally able to breathe again, only Charlie's tip still lingering in his muzzle. The wolf pulled his slippery cock out the rest of the way, freeing Whimper to slowly raise his head up, curling his neck from full extension so he could look at the wolf. He was visibly shaking, a look of blissed-out overstimulation glazing his face. Charlie was still doing his best to uphold the big bad wolf impression, but he couldn't help but adore his little mate in this moment. It seemed the pawjob was doing a very good job of keeping him on the verge of orgasm, and possibly consciousness. He started to lean over, and gave Whimper's chin a little nibble.
"I love you, my sweet little doe. My pretty prey girlfriend." He stuck out his tongue and gave a domineering lick up Whimper's cheek, but he hardly seemed to notice it.
For quite some time, Whimper laid motionless, laboriously breathing in and out through a bruised throat and mind filled with adrenaline. He wasn't able to communicate it - franky, he wasn't even cognizant enough to have realized it - but this was the most aroused he'd ever been in his entire life. Eventually, Charlie seemed to tire of waiting to continue. His bloodred, veiny doggycock was still standing at attention, nuzzled up against one of Whimper's ears. The wolf slowly retired his footpaw from stroking off his partner, and carefully picked Whimper up in his arms.
"Don't you wanna be a good girl and clean my paws?" Charlie whispered.
Whimper seemed to perk up a little bit, turning his gaze to the wolf with a bit of lag.
"Yes sir," he replied, a little gravel in his voice from the battering his throat had just taken.
"Get on it, then."
Charlie waited.
And waited.
The deer squirmed a bit, then gave up.
Then, Whimper spoke.
"Puppy, I can't move."
Charlie snickered a little, leaning in to press his nose to his mate's.
"So, you're saying I have a free lunch who can't run away?" The wolf smiled a toothy grin, and Whimper blushed.
"You're making... making it worse."
"Hey, if I'm gonna arouse you to a point of paralysis, I'm not gonna quit halfway through."
He lapped over the deer's lips with his tongue, forcing his way in a moment later. The two passionately kissed for at least a minute, Charlie doing his best to ignore the salty tang of piss on his lover's breath. He pulled away, then rolled Whimper belly-down onto the mattress, resting his chin on a pillow.
"If you can't move, I guess you'll have to clean my paws next time. For now, I'll just fuck a litter of pups into you, princess." Charlie placed a forepaw on both of Whimper's arms, pinning them down to the bed and crawling up atop his back. He leaned in close, starting to growl into the deer's ear. "Raise your tail. Now."
The deer did not protest. "See? At least one part of you can still move."
Then, with no warning, a hot, dribbly, red cocktip was pressed firmly at the center of Whimper's pucker. The wolf continued to growl, and forced the tip in. Whimper could hear a full hemisphere of humid snarls as more and more tapered dick sank into his entrance. Charlie was holding back a howl from just how tight the deer was, and he knew that Whimper was certainly feeling the stretch, too. There wasn't any lube, but Charlie leaked pre like it was industrial coolant, so things were still plenty slick. He pushed in harder and harder, sinking half of his cock in, then eventually the full thing, including the uninflated knot. He took a moment to pant and recover from the sensation, but started to hump not more than a few seconds later. He pulled his cock out, then forced it right back in, starting to build up a symphony of squelches, growls, and the slapping of his balls against Whimper's much, much smaller ones.
The wolf jerked his head forwards, clamping his jaw and sharp teeth down on the deer's neck. He didn't break skin, but he couldn't claim to have been in control. Had he moved a even little faster, there would have been blood. Instinct was really taking control now. Charlie's thoughts became clouded and viscous like sludge, and all he could muster were animal, lustful thoughts. Hump. Fuck. Breed. Knot. Four-lettered essays of lust filled his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from humping harder. His knot was starting to swell up now, and Whimper was groaning with each stuttering impulse as it popped through his pucker and got yanked back out. The huge wolf sat up on his knees, back arched outwards to cast a shadow over his breeding stock. The little deer's backside pulled up with him, dangling on his knot despite being far from fully swollen. His big paws slid down the deer's back, effortlessly encircling his waist and holding it still. Charlie stared at the feminine buck beneath him, admiring how his upper body was wilted against the bed, while his backside dangled in the air on a dog cock. He stared at the colors of everything, all so alluring. His cocoa-brown doe, and the pink bits he sported. So girly, that little pink shaft and taut pink anal ring. As he yanked his half-hard knot out, he could even tell that Whimper's gaping insides were pink. And then, there was that beautiful, steaming interface of pink on red. A helpless little prey animal being speared over and over on his thick, bloodred predatory cock. His fur was charcoal and dense, glossy with sweat and reeking of sex.
He humped again and again with increasing need. Glossy flesh slid in and out of the deer, stretching him over and over as his poor hole tried to keep up, Charlie alternating between low growls and sharp whines. Then, he felt a little squeeze in Whimper's bowel. At first, it seemed like nothing much - the deer hadn't even made a sound - but then, over the pungent reek of canine sex, Charlie managed to smell it. That distinct, doe-like aroma.
Whimper had just creamed the bedsheets. And Charlie knew what to do next.
The thrusts got shallower, not letting much cock ever leave the deer's body. Charlie's lupine whines got louder and more urgent, and he began to lose his form - he slowly toppled forwards from his knees, still powerfucking the deer's perky behind as his torso pinned Whimper down to the bed. Little bubbles started to form in the pre leaking from the deer's tailhole, bursts of air being forced in by the frantic thrusts. Charlie growled and snarled, his knot forming more and more. And then, finally, he forced it in. It was slow and surely painful, but his primal lust didn't care. Whimper twitched and trembled beneath him as that pucker spread open wide, the big knot broaching him without slowing or speeding up. It just got deeper and deeper, and eventually it was in, and Whimper's pucker closed around the knot.
The wolf howled out as his plump nuts started spewing into his little mate, thick shots of pristinely white puppy batter bloating Whimper's belly with a slight pudge. The amount of semen that the wolf produced was almost nonsensical, but they could both feel the evidence that it was real. If it was possible at all for the deer to become pregnant, well, he would be now.
It usually took Charlie about half an hour to stop ejaculating, but he had fallen asleep within five minutes. Whimper didn't have any choice but to join him - three hundred pounds of chiseled wolf body wasn't something he could escape from under. As they slept, a puddle of mostly wolfcum pooled on the bedsheets. There was a little deer spunk in the mix, too, but it barely added anything. With slickened buttcheeks and an exhausted body, Whimper slept peacefully beneath his natural predator.
When the morning eventually arrived, the bed was an absolute mess. Whimper woke up first, being quickly hit with an inescapable perfume of wolf rut. He mouthed a silent oh my god, recalling the events of the night before. At some point during the night, Charlie had dismounted him properly, and they were currently just sleepily cuddling. Whimper wondered what time it was, feeling absolutely famished. He squirmed out of the wolf's grasp - he was a heavy sleeper, anyhow - and sat up on the edge of the bed, grabbing his phone off the floor (he wasn't sure when, exactly, it'd gotten there.)
He was hit by a wave of shock for three reasons - first, he could feel cum sloshing around inside of him, still. Two, he suddenly had to pee incredibly bad, presumably from drinking a Charlie-size bladder the night prior. And Three - it was six PM.
"Oh my god, Charlie, wake up."
The deer messed up the wolf's headfluff and flattened his ears, then standing up and quickly walking to the en-suite bathroom. Charlie awoke to the sound of a high-pressure stream of urine in the toilet bowl, still reeking of wolf even though it had been recycled.
"Did someone have too much to drink?"
Whimper blushed from the toilet, out of view of the wolf.
"I uhh... Yeah."
Charlie laughed, and Whimper was silent.
"That was so intense. You're a bucket of surprises."
The stream of urine finally stopped, and Whimper returned to their bed.
"You're a bucket of wolf cum, it seems." Charlie winked, rolling over and starting to dig around in the bedside drawer. "What time is it?"
Whimper laughed sardonically. "Six! We slept for a good fourteen hours."
Charlie didn't seem as surprised. "More like twelve. I really marathoned you last night, hun. We were up until four. Or, well... I was up until four. I don't know when you passed out"
Whimper blushed again. Then, Charlie grabbed him, and yanked the deer butt-skywards in his lap. With little hesistation, Charlie lapped over his pucker a few times, tasting day-old cum. Whimper eeped at that, but he nearly shrieked as the wolf shoved a butt plug into him.
"Okay, done with that. You're absorbing all of that puppy milk, okay? Don't want you wasting it by leaking."
Whimper nodded, looking down at the visible bulge in his abdomen. He leaned back into the wolf's embrace, feeling quite submissive.
"Anyhow," Charlie cooed, "Dinner?"
Whimper hesitated for a moment, then replied. "Sure. Dinner."
"And then you can clean my paws with your tongue."
It seemed Whimper was going to blushing a lot, now that Charlie had discovered this side of himself. And the deer really did not mind.