A Clipper's Fate

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A petty criminal runs afoul of the Lorelan Watch, and is taken into custody. However, his unique talents and skills might serve the Watch, and save him from the gaol. What will the poor fox have to do, to preserve his freedom, and will it involve the spontaneous invention of medieval glory-holes?

NSFW

Words: 7,368

Male/Male

Fantasy

Written as part of National Novel Writer's Month 2022


Adelard the fox knew better than to say anything, and so he did not. He said nothing as he saw the watchmen gather, outside his little shop. He said nothing, as a large wolf in battle-worn mail shouted accusations at him. He even said nothing as he was slapped in irons, marched through the street, and dragged into the nearest guard barracks. The watch were quick with accusations, and only knew force. They could prove nothing, and this show of theirs would not wrest a confession from him.

At least, that was what he thought, before he was sat down at a table, in front of that same wolf. Before the wolf lowered his caul, removed his cloth cap, reached into a sash pocket, and produced the official seal of an inquisitor. That was the moment Adelard's confidence first began to waver.

"Do you recognize this signet ring?" asked the wolf.

"I know very little about jewelry," Adelard lied.

"A pity. I was told that presenting it would speed along this exchange." The wolf took a seat, across from the fox. "You are charged with the theft of His Majesty's gold."

"Is that right?" Adelard scoffed. "A fine feat, considering His Majesty's bailiffs take all but my coppers in taxes."

"I did not mention it was coinage."

"I am a merchant, sirrah, and a poor one at that. I fail to see what other gold you might refer to."

The wolf sighed. Reaching into a bag, at his feet, he produced a set of shears. "Are you familiar with these?"

Adelard tried to keep his expression level. Of course he recognized those shears. They were among several things that went missing from his private quarters, days previously. He had thought they had fallen into the hands of the Thieves' Guild, but he had not found anyone willing to speak of it. Now, he knew why. "I have never seen it before, in my life."

"They are a tool of clippers," the wolf explained. "One uses them to trim the edges off of Her Majesty's coinage, salvaging the shavings for their own profit."

"Really, now? How imaginative, the criminal element has become." Adelard leaned back, in his seat. "In that case, however, I am now certain that I have never laid eyes upon their like, before."

"We found them in your chambers."

"You lie." Adelard crossed his leg, impatiently. "I have been in and around my home, for weeks, and the Watch has not come around to upend my property. Are you, perhaps, confessing to having broken into my house?"

"It is not yours, then?"

"It is not."

"I see..." The wolf reached down, hoisting the sack and tossing it onto the table, in one sudden movement. "So, none of these are yours, either, then?"

The bag turned onto its side, disgorging a collection of items. A thrill of sheer panic ran through the fox. He had nearly forgotten about the other things he had lost, in the past few days. Here they all lay, spilling out onto the table. Cracked glass vials, dribbling out a collection of fragrant oils. Worn, well read books laden with detailed anatomical references of various men. His ears flattened, when he finally noticed the shape still in the bag, long and ending in a suspicious bulb. That he would be reunited with Bartholomew, in a situation as dire as these...

The wolf rested his chin in his hands, careful as he put his elbows down to avoid the slowly spreading puddle of what they both knew to be slippery liquid. "A shame. I imagine someone must be missing all of these."

Adelard scowled, but he still refused to acknowledge the accusations.

"Thankless business, the clipper's." The wolf began to carefully pick up the bottles, in an attempt to stem their flow. "Removing tiny shavings from gold coins is labor-intensive. Few would notice a worn out edge, when held in the hand, but there is still only so much to take before it becomes noticeable on a scale. Most wouldn't bother; the kind of work one would have to do to get the coins, in the first place, is often worlds more profitable."

Adelard laughed, mirthlessly. "Grueling hours, spent trying to collect mere scraps? Sounds like someone after my own heart, sirrah."

"And mine, as well. Although," the wolf chuckled. "My scraps are not those of coin, but of criminals. The Guild looks after their own, admirably, even the ones who engage in petty thievery."

Adelard tried not to make it obvious, that any tension was released, upon hearing that. Instead, he polished his nails on his shirt, knowing he was going to get out of this with little more than a bruised ego.

"That is," the wolf added, "provided they stay up to date on their dues."

Adelard's hand ground to a halt, against his chest. Unbidden, memories came flooding in. It had, in retrospect, seemed a bit suspicious that Old Hark had made it such a point to come in and chat, the other day. Perhaps Adelard should have known to check for signs of a break-in, immediately afterwards. Perhaps he should have checked during one of Hark's annoying, repetitive and droning anecdotes. Would it have changed anything? Probably not.

Placing his hands on his lap, the fox sighed. "I suppose it was silly of me to think that you were the kind of man who'd ever worked a set of lockpicks."

"Is that a confession?"

"I don't see how it matters." Adelard sighed, as he put his head in his hands. "If this wasn't enough for you to bring to a magistrate, then surely the Guild would happily take the opportunity to flog off evidence of some of their other businesses, with my name splashed upon it. Where am I bound, then? The gaol? The labor camps?"

"Neither," said the wolf, as he tried in vain to wipe up the oil with a cloth.

Adelard looked up, as his heart sank with dread. "Not the headsman, surely."

The wolf chuckled. "You would hardly be worth the damage done to his blade. No, I have something else in mind." He continued to work, without looking up at the fox. His expression hardened, just a bit, as if he found the situation he described as something that had annoyed him, for some time. " As it happens, I have asked among your former benefactors, to see if they might send someone my way to help with a rather... specific problem I seem to be having, around the barracks."

Adelard took a second to think about that. More accurately, he needed that time to parse what he was hearing, because he was certain that he was hearing wrong. "Did you pay them, sirrah, for this information?"

"I did."

Adelard shook his head. "Then you have been swindled. You asked them for a thief, and all they have given you is me." He pointed to the shears, on the table. "There lies the only tool of the trade I have ever owned. As you said, had I the ability to do any line of work more profitable, I would have done it."

Putting the cracked bottles into another bag, the guard captain sighed, the sound carrying with it the faintest hint of a growl. "I did not ask them for a thief," he replied. "Judging by what little I have learned, you should be more than enough to..." He shut his eyes, shook his head. "Gods preserve me, this job is a farce."

Adelard was confused, and this time he made absolutely no effort to conceal it. The gears turned in his head, but his storming thoughts failed to come up with an explanation, or even a guess as to what was happening. Weakly, he asked "What... is you need me for, exactly?"

"I don't see how it matters," the watch captain snapped back. "You will assist, or you will be escorted to your new home in the bottom of our dungeons."

The fox flinched. "Er... of course, sirrah. Whatever you need me for, I am sure I can at least attempt."

"Good man." Standing up, the wolf strode around to the other side of the table, where he grabbed Adelard under his arm and forced him to his feet.

The two of them wound their way down corridors and through various rooms, cutting through a courtyard on their way to their destination. Adelard exchanged glances with a number of yeomen, as he followed a half-step behind his captor. One group of them, sat at a table in the barracks kitchen, looked up from their cards as he passed. One of them said something which the fox did not quite catch, which caused his companions to rumble into deep, husky chuckles. Adelard flinched. Was he imagining a predatory glint, in some of the eyes on him? He had to be.

The trip took a strange turn, when Adelard was led into a thin alleyway between a building and the city's larger curtain wall. He and the Watch captain had to angle their shoulders, to shuffle through the passage. At the end, they emerged into a slightly larger area, where they were surrounded by walls. The area had clearly not been designed for traffic; the grass here was thin due to lack of sunlight. A crude structure had been erected, at the far corner of this miniature courtyard, little more than a collection of planks arranged into a wall and a thin door. A sweaty weasel stood back from his handiwork, wiping the sweat from his brow as he looked back at the approaching people.

"Captain!" He beamed, holding a hand out as if presenting the shack to his commander. "Your arrival is fortuitous. I may well have solved the problems, with our little place of respite."

A sharp clatter, from inside the structure, made Adelard and the weasel both flinch. The captain's expression remained stony. "Have you, really?"

Quickly, nervously, the weasel looked inside. "All is well." He pulled out a plank, nails still attached, and tossed it to the ground. "It was not vital to the walls' standing."

"For its purpose, it should do just fine." The wolf shook his head. Placing his hand on Adelard's back, he pushed the fox forward. "Get in, clipper."

Adelard stumbled, catching the door frame with one hand, before catching himself. "What... what am I to do in there, sirrah?"

He looked back, just in time to see the wolf's nostrils flare. The watch captain opened his mouth, but an explanation refused to pass his lips. Adelard could see that the captain was struggling, to try and do so, which caused the weasel no end of thinly veiled joy. Eventually, he shook his head. "You will understand, in time," he said, motioning with a mail-clad hand. "In. Now."

Hesitantly, Adelard reached for the door, which was held to the frame by two hinges, with enough nails between them to secure about one and a half. Inside was a crude collection of planks, vaguely cobbled together into the sort of seating arrangement as might be found in an outhouse. There was no roof, and gaps between the walls sufficient nearly for the fox to put his fingers through. Turning around, he opened his mouth, once again attempting to get some manner of information as to what was to be expected of him. However, when he turned, it was to see the door being closed on him. The sound of awkward rattling ensued, for several seconds, as the weasel repeatedly tried and failed to get the door latched. Then, the sound of the watch captain cursing under his breath. The door clattered shut, a faint clicking noise was heard, and then the whole structure relaxed, as the weight of a body on the other side was taken off of it.

"I was told," the captain muttered, "you were a carpenter."

"I was an apprentice, cap'n," the weasel replied. "Why do you think I turned to the Watch?"

"I can only pray you handle a halberd better than you do a hammer."

"Um..." Adelard piped up. "Sirrah, I still don't understand what..."

"Enough." The wolf's voice began to recede. "Explain our business to the prisoner, however you like. I will be drinking in the barracks."

Adelard listened to the wolf stomp back to the alleyway, muttering darkly the entire way out of earshot. He reached for the door, feeling a sudden urge to check to see if it would not just fall apart, and allow him to escape. He was pulled from those thoughts when he spotted a mischievously glinting eye and a fragment of a toothy grin, from between the large gap in the corner between the two walls.

"So, what'd they bring you in for?" The weasel asked, amiably.

"Um... c-clipping, sirrah."

"I've not heard of that sort of crime, before. Sounds violent."

"It's no..." Adelard shook his head. "Your captain asked to explain what I'm to do."

"He did."

Adelard took a seat down on the little bench, relieved to discover that it seemed to be able to support his weight. By the time he was able to stop worrying about it, he realized that the weasel was not going to continue that thought. He looked into the weasel's eye, expectantly.

"Oh. I see. Perhaps I should, then." Wriggling a finger in between the gap, the guard pointed to something on the wall. "So, if you'll notice over there, there's a hole scored in the planks."

Adelard looked to his right. Sure enough, there was a hole, about large enough for him to get his arm through, at about the level of his chest. He had not noticed it, at first, because of the dark fabric that had been stretched over it. "Aye," he muttered. "I see it."

"Good, good. We'll be keeping you in this little room for a time. Until the captain says you're done, in any case. Just wait for one of ours to come around and lift up that flap."

"What happens then?"

"You will see." The weasel beamed, before his face fell in realization. "Oh! I had nearly forgotten. It would probably be best if you kept quiet, while you're engaged in here. Do not speak to the guards. There are supplies underneath your seat, should you require them." Taking a step back, the weasel slapped the wall, shivering when it made a noise that neither he nor Adelard particularly liked. "Yes, well... try not to lean against the walls, either. I am... all but certain those nails up there should hold." Taking a step back, the weasel disappeared from view, as he made his way back to the alley. "Okay! Good hunting, prisoner!"

The next few minutes were quiet. Not silent, mind. The fox could still hear voices, coming from the end of the alley. He strained his ears, trying to make out words. Try as he might, he could not catch anything but the sound of husky laughter and aggressive ribbing. There were definitely more voices coming, however. That much he could hear, clearly. All of a sudden, he heard the clatter of mail, of approaching footsteps. Two shapes darted past, in the gap, and suddenly he heard them settle at the wall, by his side.

"Oh, I see," said a thin, unsure voice. "So, this is... do I just...?"

"Aye!" The weasel's voice rang out, a clear smile in his voice. "Just lift that cloth and find your way in. The rest will take care of itself."

The fox raised an eyebrow. There was something about the timbre of their conversation. The first voice let out a hesitant, shaky breath, charged with the sort of energy that made Adelard's hackles raise. Surely, he thought to himself, whoever they were, they weren't about to...

Suddenly, a bit of light streamed in from the hole, as the cloth was raised. It was quickly blocked, however, as a set of creamy thighs settled in. Adelard's eyes widened, nearly fit to roll out of their sockets, as he looked upon the intruder, in his little room. A fluffy golden scrotum hung over the lip of the hole, the sheath above it already starting to be parted with the angry red tip of a canine cock. The fox stared at it, as much transfixed by the sight as he was scandalized.

After a moment, it twitched. A scraping sound of hands on the walls rolled up past the fox's head. "What's supposed to happen, sir?" asked the voice. "I do not yet feel anything."

"Give it a moment," cooed the weasel. "I'm sure our special hireling will warm up to you, soon enough. Perhaps they are merely trying to get acquainted to you, before they..." The weasel chuckled. Adelard heard their voice, suddenly closer to his ear. "How about it? Is it clear now, what we require of you?"

Adelard registered that he was being spoken to, but in truth his attention was almost inextricably pulled further up the wall. His eyes were glued to the little bit of red, poking out of the sheath. It was slowly beginning to retreat, as its owner shuffled, nervously, but even that little glimpse was enough for him to recognize what it might belong to. Canine. Of course it would be canine. Something warm passed his lips, which was when he realized he was licking his own chops. He was going to find out who sold him out, he decided, if only to see who had this kind of information on him. For now, however...

The dog's breath hitched, when he first felt fingers brush against his balls. For a second, Adelard was worried that they might withdraw. However, once the fox had his fingers poised to curl around that package, nervous gasps gave way to tiny, nervous moans. The dog had clearly been on patrol, for some time, and as the second millimeter of warm cock began to peek out, Adelard first began to notice the potent scent of male, that began to suffuse the little room.

"Guess I'll leave you to it." The dog lurched forward with a yap, as Adelard heard the weasel swat a backside, nearby. "Try not to exhaust our friend, before the others get a chance with them."

With that, Adelard was left alone with the other guard. Nothing but the sound of hesitant whimpers and the creak of wood prevailed, as the fox's hands worked to try and coax ever more flesh out of hiding. The dog's balls were, perhaps, not as heavy as Adelard would have hoped. There still was promise, in that hot sack, however. Once the guard's cock was free, to the start of the knot, and Adelard saw the first glimmering drop of pre form a lewd string down and snap free onto the dirt, below, the fox was far from caring. Even before he was aware of the action, he was on his knees. The dog's shaft was now almost level with the fox's snout, while Adelard's own member was quickly starting to run out of space, in his breeches.

"Do not stop," the guard gasped, cock twitching and releasing another drop of pre. "I... oh, gods..."

Belatedly, a piece of information seemed to sink into Adelard's head. Looking over at the bench, he realized that the seat could be opened, and so he tried it, with one hand. It was difficult, since apparently the former carpenter's apprentice had somehow managed to put the hinge on completely wrong. Inside were a collection of clay jars. The smell that rose to the fox's nose made his pants tighten even more, as he recognized the familiar smell of his favorite personal oils. The implication was clear enough to almost be an order. Greedily, he grabbed one, removing the wax covered cloth that sealed it and setting it on the ground. These jars were just large enough to get a hand inside, coating his palms liberally with a thick, silky, fragrant sheen.

"What's that noise?" the dog asked, his nervousness slowly causing him to retreat back into his sheath. "What are you doing in... ohhhhhh!"

The fox had his fingers around that hard canine shaft, which shivered and spat at the sudden sensation of being closed in around. Adelard could feel every pulse, could feel the lurch as it prepared to spit out more of that glorious pearly essence. The guard's panting redoubled, but with it came a vague sense of relief, of a tension finally resolved. Hands scrabbled for purchase, against the smooth walls of the stall, as Adelard began to work his hand up and down.

"Oh... f-forgive me..." the guard moaned, seemingly to nobody, as his knot slowly came free of its sheath. "Were it... ohh... were it only you, tending to me, so... Dame Thrake... oh, sweet heavens, when I picture it..."

Adelard might have felt a bit annoyed, to be playing a role he had not signed up for. This was probably the reason why he had been told not to speak. Even so, he felt the lurch of the guard's cock, and decided he was going to spend less time on the dog than he might have initially liked. Leaning forward, he reached out with his other hand, taking the dog's knot at the base and giving it just the right amount of squeeze. He put his lips against the tip, waiting for the burst that threatened to happen.

He did not have very long to wait. Almost before his snout touched flesh, torrents of hot, thick cum were painting his mouth and nose. The dog on the other side of the wall made a series of sharp, surprised, desperate whine-moans, as what felt like buckets of pent-up seed stormed out of his body as fast as his body could manage. Adelard took it all in. The sounds, the taste, the smell... Gods, the smell... Eventually, the assault on his face and throat faded. The fox collapsed into a seated position, dazed, staring up at his conquest, as it slowly deflated. His hand was blindly picking at the laces of his breeches, in an attempt to give himself any sort of room for his own aching erection.

The sound of laughter, in the distance, made both Adelard and the guard jump. The dog pulled his crotch from the hole. "A-a moment, pray. I am not yet finished."

"Are you not?" A gruff voice taunted. "The lads and I could hear you finish, from halfway across the courtyard."

"I... that..."

"Stand aside, lad. It's my turn, with the whore." The sound of steps, and the shuffling of cloth and mail, kept Adelard transfixed on the hole, leading outside. A shadow fell over it again. Then, without ceremony, the next guard fed himself through to the fox's side of the room.

This one was definitely different. The cock that throbbed in front of him was a short, angry, tapered thing. Not as impressive, perhaps, as the last one, but the way it proudly jabbed forward had an almost palpable undertone of ownership. It belonged here, and its very presence demanded attention. As he shuffled closer, Adelard's mind raced, as he tried to identify what it had to belong to. The voice was not the weasel's, so that could not have been it. Rabbit? Why did he think it was a rabbit? Whatever it was, it made him dizzy with desire. His hand reached out to cradle the balls. These were heavier, clearly feeling the strain from years of carrying the burden of a virile male as they sagged over the lip of the entrance.

The guard chuckled, a growl in the back of his throat. "You've no need to be shy," he said. "This is well-trodden territory, isn't it?" He hiked his hips forward, questing with his erection in order to find the muzzle he, no doubt, expected to find nearby. The fact that Adelard had to pull his face back proved that the rabbit was not terribly far, off the mark. Whether the guard had somehow managed to sense that, or was just feeling way too confident, there was an almost unwarranted sense of vindication, in his voice. "Go on, then. Give us a kiss, will you?"

He was supposed to be offended. Mortified. It was bad enough that Adelard was already in this situation, but beyond that, the expectation in his own mind was that he was supposed to offer some kind of resistance to this kind of treatment. However... locked in here, with a wall in between him and any judgmental eyes, with nothing but the still warm essence of the first guard soaking into his fur... All he could do, when he saw this new guard grope around for him was lick his chops, greedily.

As stated before, while the rabbit was confident, he was not an impressively large specimen. The fox found that, after the first pass or two with his tongue, he could begin to descend on the guard's length with almost complete confidence. He barely occupied half of Adelard's muzzle, and that was when the fox buried his snout as deep into the guard's pelvis as their divider would allow. However, everything else about the rabbit was exactly what Adelard expected, from a male. It sat on his tongue, hot and throbbing with the quickening pulse of its owner, disgorging dribbles of salty pre that seemed to fill the fox's whole mouth with something between a taste and a smell.

"Rrf, that's it," the rabbit muttered, huskily. "I see that muzzle, poking out at me. Like the taste, love? My wife can't stand it, herself." He hiked his hips forward, as if trying to strike Adelard with his hips, since nothing else could reach. "Bit of a shame, isn't it? Seed's much better served going down a slattern's gullet. At least then, it won't crawl back out of her, months later, in a bloody, squalling mass."

The fox's lips curled upward. Did this guard think he was something else, perhaps? Tightening his throat, he let out a couple of brassy moans, in a higher register. His lips buzzed around his lover, as his hand continued to cradle and heft the rabbit's balls.

"Heh. Sounds like you agree." There was an ominous creaking sound, as the guard pressed harder against the wall. Every twitch and fidget spoke of a male that wanted to thrust, which told Adelard that he was getting close. At least, it would have, if the rabbit was not currently spitting gobs of hot proof of that, at the roof of the fox's mouth. "Don't worry, love. You'll get what you're after, soon enough, if you keep giving it... hff... just, keep going."

For all his bluster, it seemed that the precipice came on quicker than Adelard came on quickly. A few more bobs of his head rewarded the fox with what he craved. Streams of cum spattered against his soft palate, pooling at the back of his throat. Almost on instinct, he began to swallow. Every drop of seed was barely allowed to sit on his tongue, before it was finding his way down into his stomach. At the very least, the guard had plenty of seed stored away. Not that that stopped Adelard from pulling every last drop he was able to. He cradled that twitching, spitting mass with his mouth, and did not stop until the guard forcibly withdrew himself from the hole in the wall.

"Hoo, gods," the rabbit chuckled, as he pulled his breeches back up over his crotch. "I've missed the feeling of giving a whore her meal. Hope you've got room for my mates, though. You've a long night ahead of you." Something rattled, as it skipped off the edge of the hole and flew into the room. Flinching, Adelard held out his hands to catch whatever it was, at which point he realized he was holding a single copper coin. The rabbit chuckled. "A tip for your troubles."

He stared, dumbly, down at the coin in his hand, as the guard proceeded to walk away. A single copper could perhaps get him a heel of bread, or something equally trivial. Even the cheapest of street companions set people back silver. That this was all he had been worth... he stared down at his other hand, which he only just realized was idly rubbing at the tent in his trousers. Fortunately, he had little time to think about either of those things, because a shadow fell over the hole in the wall, and a new man threaded himself through it.

The next several hours were something of a blur. He lost track of the hours, and of how many men he serviced. It felt as if a tasting menu of all the choicest cock types threw themselves in front of his hands and muzzle. The barbed prick of a large cat tickled at his tongue, as it wiggled and spat in his mouth. A rodent struggled to get to the hole, needing a box to do so, but more than made up for it with the treasure hidden in his pants. For what felt like an eternity, Adelard's world centered around an absolutely glorious specimen: a towering equine cock, so large as to almost sag under its own weight. There had been no way for the fox to get it anywhere inside him. Even his greedy mouth was far from capable of taking on the challenge. He had to settle for exploring every throbbing millimeter of it with his hands and mouth, marveling at the absolute shower of seed that sprayed overhead just as he was appreciating the guard's pendulous balls. It occupied his attention, almost completely; he sucked off the next three guards with all of his might, driving his oiled-up fingers into his tail-hole as he dazedly fantasized about being split open by such a terrifying monster.

By the time he had recovered some amount of his dignity again, the courtyard had grown silent. It had actually been silent for a few minutes, but Adelard had been so preoccupied with trying to screw himself onto an imaginary horse cock that he almost did not notice. The whole room reeked of semen, sweat and oil, in a way that made the fox's head swim. However, he had won himself a moment of sobriety, before he gave in and finally gave his aching balls the release that they themselves were begging for. Sidling up to the hole, he peered out, swiveling his ears to try and pick up any sort of sounds. Eventually, he was rewarded with the sound of... not quite footsteps. They were too heavy, too irregular. The scraping sound of metal on stone rang out, in the alleyway, before somebody stumbled into the little courtyard. Adelard's eyes widened, as he recognized the guard captain, from earlier, who lurched over to the wall and braced himself against it.

"You've done your job, prisoner," the wolf slurred, his voice heavy and his mouth seemingly uncooperative. Clearly, he had been drinking heavily. Adelard heard the faint rattling of metal and fabric. "The lads have naught but praise for this new reward we've built for them." A drumming noise rattled the wall, near the ground where the fox knelt. The smell of urine wafted through the gaps in the planks. "Probably means they won't work, unless I continue to let them empty their balls, the entitled..."

Adelard craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the guard captain. Or, more specifically... "I-it is a pleasure to serve, sirrah," he replied, meekly. "Does anyone else require... require my..."

A thrill rose through him, when he finally spotted it. The wolf was impressively endowed, for his size, even partially erect as he was. Adelard's heart skipped a beat when, after realizing he was being watched, the wolf's erection began to slowly crawl even further out of its sheath. The wolf growled. "Degenerates. The lot of you." With a lurching stumble, the wolf lined himself up with the hole, thrusting his crotch into Adelard's face hard enough to impact the wall. The fox flinched away, only to realize he was snout to tip with an ever thickening mass of flesh. "'A pleasure to serve,' is it? Very well. Since service seems to be in your nature, then you can attend to me like you did the others."

Adelard's breath caught, but at the same time his eyes danced in delight and hunger. Slicking his hands, again, he began to trace loving paths around the outside of the wolf's cock, nursing it to its full glory as the knot slipped free of the sheath. "You seem to be leaking already, sire," he cooed. "Has it been long, since last you felt the touch of another?"

"That is no business of yours, prisoner," the guard captain growled, in between husky, growling pants. "Just be about your work, quickly, and let's get this over with."

"Why the rush, sire? Are you, perhaps, afraid of your men seeing you in such a state?"

"You were told not to speak. I advise you follow those instructions."

Adelard was beyond insult, at this point. The feeling of slick pre, leaking out onto his chest, was causing his already simmering greed to boil over into something primal and undeniable. He gave the wolf a few more passes of his hands, ensuring that that meaty wolf cock was sufficiently coated, before letting go and rising to his feet.

The guard captain let out a few raggedy breaths, on the other side of the wall. "Why have you stopped? Keep g..." The wolf's order died in his throat, when he felt something lower itself onto the tip of his member. Something heavy. Slick. Tight. Before he could fully process it, he was buried an inch and a half into the twitching tunnel, and it was only sinking deeper. Adelard screwed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths as he pushed against the wall of the guardhouse. His slick tailhole, already stretched by his fingers, was now being parted by something bigger and hotter, and he was torn between ecstatic glee at that initial contact, and a burning desire to feel the bottom. Eventually, he leveled off at the base of the wolf's knot, stirring it around inside him as he reveled in the flush of penetration.

The guard captain let out a moan, this time significantly less assured. "P-prisoner... is this your... are we...?"

Adelard responded by hiking his hips up, pulling half of the meaty invader from his ass, and then dropping down on it. And then he did that again. And then again. Soon, he was settling into a rhythm, driving down on the guard captain's drooling cock. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, as he panted with exertion. "S-sirrah...!" he groaned, like a bitch in heat. "You're stretching me wide open!"

The guard captain did not respond. Seeming to understand that whatever was wrapped around him could not possibly be the fox's mouth, he could only gasp and whimper.

Adelard, hearing the weakness, could not suppress the urge to taunt, further. "Have no fear, sirrah. You... oooh!... you are the only man today to lay claim to this part of me. Nnngh... and you are certainly the biggest to do so."

He gasped, when all of a sudden, he felt an absence, inside of him. He fell against the wall, cracking a board with his weight, as the wolf stabilizing him disappeared from where they had stood. For a moment, Adelard worried. Had he taken it too far? Was the guard captain offended? He heard a rattling noise, as the wolf undid the lock on the partition door. When he threw it open, the wolf stood there, erection throbbing, a look of desperation on his face.

"Sirrah," Adelard began. "Forgive me, I..."

The guard captain burst into the room, putting his hands on Adelard's shoulders as he pushed the fox to the back of the room. Adelard stumbled onto the bench, where he looked up at the wolf with confusion and fear.

The guard captain knelt down. "This is dishonorable. Shameful, even." Hooking a hand under each of the fox's knees, the wolf lifted them up, exposing his tailhole to the cock that immediately proceeded to try and line up to it. "I'll not rut a man, from behind a wall."

Adelard's face scrunched up, into a mask of delirious excitement, before the feeling of the wolf resuming his rightful place took the fox's breath away. With his legs hiked up, knees nearly level with his head, he was completely open, exposed. The guard captain rammed into him, hips slamming down with the sort of fumbling strength that can only come from somebody not in complete control of their hips. The air was filled with the smell of male, the bitter burn of alcohol, and the audible, meaty slaps of thighs against thighs, knot against well-slicked anus.

Above him, the guard was equal parts gasps and growls. As promised, his eyes never wandered from his new conquest, and the glare he sent down at the fox was the sort of combination of aggression and ownership that made his own cock jump and twitch in delight. And yet... Adelard could hear it in the back of the wolf's throat. The soft, almost inaudible whine. The little bit of drool, at the corner of the mouth. The slowly descending glaze in the eyes. Climax was quickly approaching, for the poor guard, and soon he might be forced to start taking desperate measures, in order to get that knot where it screamed to be buried. The fox's mind burned, chaotically, unsure which was the more tantalizing of the two options. Sure, he could wait for that desperation, see what those well-trained warrior's hips might be able to do, when the need really struck. And yet, at the same time, if there was anyone in the world, who wanted to see that knot disappear more than the guard captain...

"Go on, then, sire," he cooed, using the wall for leverage as he tried to stretch himself open even further. "Put your weight down on it. I can promise you, what awaits is tighter than... nnngh... tighter than any maiden you've bedded."

There was a rejoinder in the wolf's eyes. Or, at least, a desire to have one available. However, both his mouth and the lower half of his body could only offer agreement. Adelard bit his lower lip, growling as he felt that hot bulb of flesh press down on him. He did as he had rehearsed, exhaling slowly as he tried to will himself to accept the invader. Iota by infinitesimal iota, he felt himself opened to try and accommodate more and more. It felt as though it would never end. At least, until there was a sudden give. With an almost audible pop, the last half of the wolf's knot went crashing in, before being closed around at the base by Adelard's hungry tail-hole.

The guard captain had no words. What tumbled out of his mouth was a series of primal, bestial noises, as his knot inflated to obscene proportions, inside of his prisoner. A veritable flood of seed sprayed from him, painting and flooding the fox's bowels with an unrelenting volume.

Adelard was more chatty, though no less desperate. Feeling every kick and spit, deep in his body, he began savagely working on his own twitching length with both of his oiled up hands. "Oh, yes! Yes-yes-yes-yes-oh, gods yes!" Massaging his own freed knot, his pent-up cum finally made its escape. It launched skyward in thick, wavering ropes, glancing off of the wolf's mail or spattering against the wall or coming right back down to soak into the fox's tunic, by now already completely soaked with the leavings of a dozen males. All the while, he yipped and moaned like a bitch in heat, inarticulate wonder suffusing his every gasp as his lover proved more potent by the second.

Like a storm, their mutual orgasms came on and passed, leaving the two of them a tangled mass, half naked and barely sensible enough to negotiate more comfortable positions in the cramped little room. The wolf rested a hand over Adelard's head, in an attempt to steady himself as he balanced the fox on his hips. His expression had sobered, in multiple senses of the word. Adelard, for his part, could only smile, still dazed by the afterglow and the warm mass inside him that still continued to leak hot fluid into his body.

Eventually, the wolf had managed to calm down enough to be able to form coherent sentences. "Best get comfortable, prisoner," he growled, between spurts. "We shall likely be bound together, a while."

"As nature intended." Adelard snaked his legs around the guard captain's hips, cooing at the electric contact against his fur and skin.

"This is not natural," the wolf protested.

"My lord's rod seems to disagree."

"That's..." The captain tried to complain, but even he found those complaints hollow, as another trickle of seed fell out of him.

The fox chuckled. "It's well, my lord. I understand better than most. I doubt your men would have had the courage to find out who you had provided for their pleasure." The captain stared, wide-eyed, as if he was on the cusp of being identified as something deeply personal. Adelard refused to press the matter, however. Instead, he smoothed out his matted fur as best he could, given his awkward position. "You know, sire, I don't think I saw the architect, tonight. The weasel."

"How would you even be able to tell?"

"It helps that your men were able to give me very distinctive parts of themselves, to identify."

The captain's ears flattened. Was he... blushing? Adelard's eyes widened, delightedly.

"My lord," he said, "might I have your name?"

"My name?" the wolf parroted, uneasily.

Adelard nodded. "If I'm to be stuck to you, like this, it seems like a small courtesy." He flexed his lower body, drawing a grunt and a fresh drop of seed from his partner. "Or, have I not earned such favor, from my captor?"

The guard captain's ears remained flat, but eventually he spoke. "Karne. My name is Karne."

"We are well met, Sir Karne," Adelard purred, as he stirred the wolf's cock around inside of him. "Mmm, quite well met, indeed."

Karne tried to ignore the sensation, clearly worried about being unable to untie from the fox. Despite the tension in his face, his voice remained level. "I am your captor no longer, Adelard. As soon as you are freed from my... As soon as we can get you on your feet, again, you are free to go about your business."

"What of the charges, sirrah?" Adelard asked, his expression impish.

"Dropped, for now." Karne took an interest in the door which, as to be expected of the weasel, wouldn't be fully closed even if they had tried to do so. "Stay out of trouble, from here on out, and the watch will speak no more of it."

"And what if I continue to deface His Majesty's coins?"

"I beg your pardon?" Karne looked back at the fox. "Why on Therion would you want to invoke the wrath of the Watch a second time?"

The greedy, diabolical smile on Adelard's face, combined with his stained tunic and lewdly spread legs, was more illustrative to the wolf than words ever could be.

Karne scratched his cheek, nervously. "We will come to an arrangement, so that you might do this again."

"Truly, sire?" Adelard felt a fresh stir, at the thought of continued access to an entire barracks of males.

"I cannot very well walk this back, now." Karne sighed. "Not since the men seem to have enjoyed the diversion."

Adelard nodded. "As you say, sir, arrangements can be made."

"First things first," Karne muttered, looking around at the ramshackle construction. "We should get this place properly built. It is a hazard."

As he said that, another plank fell, behind the both of them.