I'll make it worth it
Standard disclaimer:
This is a furry adult story containing gay males in sexual situations as well as explicit language and descriptions. No kids are allowed so this story is only for those who are 18/21 or whatever the age is at your legislation. If you are not of the legal age, you shouldn't view this story because you might lose your innocence. Also, by browsing this story you have done so by your own consent and wish to view such material. if you do not wish to view such material you should leave this site immediately.
Author's note: This is a side story to the series "Bull's Life At Oxenbridge", sharing the idyllic setting of the main series while concentrating on different characters. This was written to get through smut writer's block and set up potential for future stories. All feedback is welcome, as usual.
*
Rain thrummed on the thatched roofs of the stone cottages and the houses surrounding the single cobbled road of the small village of Oxenbridge, making puddles that splashed as the few villagers braving the weather prowled about on their business. The grayness of the sky was on occasion interrupted by the brilliant white flash of a lightning illuminating the cloudy murkiness, followed by the loud boom of thunder. Yellow, warm light glowed from the windows of the inns and shops, lamps being put to use despite the relatively early hour still.
One of the sparse commuters was a tall figure clad in a brown hooded cloak, walking friskily along the street, accompanied by the click of his hooves on the washed stones. As another lighting struck overhead the traveler raised his head, revealing a pair of handsome blue eyes, a sizeable equine snout in a shade of a warm brown, while there were splotches of white visible along his arms and whatever body was visible from underneath his cloak, breeches and the vest he wore. The paint horse snorted at the water that fell onto his face. He was wet and starting to feel somewhat cold, not to mention thirsty and in need of a warm bath and a good sleep. As a traveler of meager means he knew he should look for a cheap inn to stay through the night before he would, as usual, seek some temporary employment in this village before moving on his way. Derot, was his name, and he was twenty-four years old, in his prime years.
With a loud splash he stepped on a puddle that had formed on a depression in the cobbled street, sending water up to his knees. Derot cursed and shook his feet each in turn in a feeble attempt to remove some of the water. Now, even more miserably wet, he really needed some warmth. His eyes gazed about, searching for the telltale signs of an inn. He did not have to look for long - nearby was a two-storied building with large shaded windows on the front and a sign that read: "THE SCRUFFY MANE".
A smile splitting the horse's maw, revealing his square teeth, he clopped the remaining distance and as he pulled the heavy iron-reinforced door open he was welcomed with a multitude of scents and sounds. The main room of the inn was a large open area with chairs and tables as well as the big bar to the side, behind which stood a grizzly-looking bear wearing an apron and brandishing the telltale sign of his profession, a big towel for drying up recently washed tankards. A big pipe dangled from the side of his maw. The air was warm and fragrant with tobacco smoke, cooked flesh and the sweet smell of fine ale. The place was quite full, probably because of the lousy weather, but Derot was happy to spot a free seat on the bar counter that was otherwise packed with furs enjoying their drinks.
Removing his soggy cloak as he crossed the room, avoiding groups of rowdy furs playing cards and dices on the table, loud laughs and snorts accompanying the games, he finally reached the bar and sat down, enjoying the feeling of getting of his hooves for the first time since eating his small lunch around midday. His body was one for endurance, but once taken to the limits, it needed rest. With a deep sigh he set his backpack down to his feet and raised his hand to call the barkeep.
"Wassit feruh?" the bear growled almost unintelligibly at him, puffing a thick cloud of pipe smoke at Derot. His nostrils flared at the intrusion and he nearly coughed.
"Some ale and flax seed, if you have."
"Surdo horsey" the bear grumbled cheerfully and pottered away, only to return with a large tankard and a bowl of flax seed, Derot's favorites.
"How much is it, sir?" he asked from the bear as he searched for his coin purse from the pockets of his vest.
"Twoppers" the bear replied, extending a paw for receiving the payment.
"Two...coppers?" Derot inquired, browsing his coin purse with his thick fingers.
"Ye, twoppers", the bear replied, cocking an eyebrow and letting out some more smoke signals.
"Here you go, sir", Derot spoke, dropping the two small coins to the awaiting paw.
"Tankies", the bear murred and went off his way to respond to a call by a vicious-looking wolf who was sitting on the other end of the counter.
Derot shook his head at this barman's peculiarity and then raised his tankard, taking a long gulp of the amber-colored drink. it was slightly bitter and suited his taste well, he found for his pleasure, and then reached for the flax seeds. Scooping up some to his palm and dropping them into his maw, they crunched pleasantly between his heavy teeth, smashing into a porridge-like mush before he licked it away from his teeth, enjoying the texture and taste before he finally washed it down with another gulp of ale. The alcohol and food were starting to warm his belly soon and Derot found himself relaxing slowly, his muscle tension relieving and his tail flipping slowly on its own accord as a sign of a good mood. Happy with himself, Derot helped himself to more flax seed.
"Why, hello, splotchy" , he suddenly heard a voice speak to his left. Derot turned his head and saw that the seat to his left that had been recently occupied by a small otter was now filled by a female cheetah, a sleek, spotted figure with a voluptuous bosom, a gracefully flicking thick, ringed tail and a pair of amber eyes framed by thick, curled lashes. She was clad in a red dress with a generous cleavage and the skirt went only down to midway between her knees and ankles. She wore pearls around her spotted neck.
"Good evening", Derot replied politely, turning back to his meal.
"Passing by?" the cheetah asked him. Her voice was raspy and purring, almost a rumble.
"Yes, probably so", Derot spoke, not really interested in giving a more detailed account of his business for a stranger.
"Traveling alone?" she continued. Derot nodded briefly. The cheetah tilted her head, studying Derot with her lashed eyes.
"A strong horse...", the cheetah murmured, a paw briefly brushing against Derot's shoulder. His ears went flat against his head and he wanted to snort again.
"Anyone waiting for your return, horse?"
"No, please, I would just have my drink in peace", Derot tried, gesturing with a hand to his tankard and bowl.
"Of course...you have traveled far...", the cheetah purred again, her tail swaying lazily behind her as her eyes were still fixed on Derot, quite openly ravishing him now, the eyes lingering especially on his thick, strong thighs. "You must be hungry...tired...."
"I am, actually, and I would prefer to eat now, thank you."
"You could come with me...have a warm bath...another drink...a good rest..."
Now Derot's suspicions were confirmed â€" this was a female of the trade, in search of new...business partners. Her lascivious attire and behavior were obvious.
"I am sorry, but I think I will find my own rest, thank you", he spoke with a more firm tone now, turning his head away from the cheetah for the final time, he thought, the issue set.
"I would make it worthwile...", she hissed, her paw now suddenly resting against Derot's thigh. His leg twitched involuntarily away from the touch and Derot could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. It wasn't the first time he had been approached by the ladies, but it always made him feel uncomfortable and strange on the inside. He did not much care for it, to be honest, instead preferring the company of other travelers.
"Please, miss..."
"Lyla, Lyla..." a male voice suddenly grumbled behind Derot, making his neck prickle for no reason he could think of. He glimpsed at the cheetah and saw that her seducing look had been replaced by a frown and a leer at the unseen speaker.
"Jarl...", she chuffed, turning her head to follow the intruder as he moved and came into Derot's field of view.
He was a large lion, easily seven feet tall, his fur smooth and the shade of rich gold, his build large and his simple clothes of fine and neat quality. The golden tail ending in a brown, groomed tip tuff nearly touched the hardwood floor near his bare, huge paws. All this Derot took with a single glance from the flicking ear tips down to the black claws. His eyes, green ones, were now in return studying Derot.
"Is Lyla here bothering you, sir?" he spoke, his voice rich and rumbling from his large chest and throat.
"Stay out of it, Jarl", Lyla spoke, twisting her neck in a dismissing gesture.
"It's all right", Derot assured, not wanting to make a scene with the stranger.
"I know Bruggy tolerates your...business, Lyla, but he wouldn't want you to pester the clients" , the lion spoke at her, his tone non-threatening but firm.
"We were just talking", the cheetah named Lyla hissed back, her paw again sneaking along Derot's thigh...this time going all the way to his cloth-enclosed sheath, squeezing on it.
Derot yelped and his knees hit the bar counter, making the glasses and tankards to rattle on the surface. A few questioning heads turned to his direction. His ears flat again, he pushed the paw away.
"I can clearly see that he's not interested in your trade, Lyla, so maybe you should leave this gentleman alone, hmmmn?" he suggested, the tone still non-threatening, but he had taken a step closer, leaning slightly down so that he was eye to eye with the cheetah.
Lyla snorted at him loudly.
"Why, why, ponce Jarl's gotten his eyes set for fresh meat", she seethed, glancing at Derot and then staring back at the lion called Jarl. She bared her teeth and snarled as she scurried to her paws. "Take it, then...obviously the horsey one's not too keen on first rate cat pussy...his limp cock never even twitched under my paws...maybe he'll like it more when you ram his horse arse", she spat, the profanities in great contrast to her earlier smooth worlds.
Derot's cheeks flushed crimson under his furs and did not dare to look at either the lion or the cheetah. He could only hear the rush of the cloth as she scurried away, whispering curses under her rumbling breaths, the lasts words he could make out were: "cocksucker" and "lifter" before she passed away from hearing distance. His hands trembled...he was not used to this.
"Don't mind Lyla", the lion spoke. Derot risked glancing to his left and saw that the lion had sat down to the recently vacated bar stool and was now looking at Derot with his mischievous-looking eyes, a smile on his thin lips. "She's just overzealous about her business."
"Business indeed", Derot spoke quietly, reaching for his tankard to get a drink for soothing his frayed nerves.
"She rarely gets turned down, that's all", the lion grinned.
"I'm simply not interested", Derot spoke, hoping that it didn't sound as bad as it just did for to his own ears. People in these small villages he went to didn't generally approve of such things...of not desiring a lady for your bed.
"It's not for everyone...a lusty cheetah, I mean", the lion chuckled. "She's really quite nice when you get to know her...but she doesn't like it when it's me who gets her potential clients."
Derot sputtered on his drink, getting some of it to his chest and the rest going to the counter top.
"Uh....you...", he spoke, not quite believing his ears.
The lion chuckled again.
"Heh, don't get me wrong, horse friend, I certainly don't have it as my trade to offer...companionship", the lion spoke in a more serious tone. "It just happens that sometimes her targets would've preferred a big burly lion over her soft, curvy figure."
Derot blinked, feeling his flush subside slightly.
"Hmmm...perhaps it's so, sometimes."
"I can see she doesn't catch your fancy...not mine either."
"Hmmm...all right, I guess", Derot tried.
"No need to be embarrassed there, friend", the lion spoke, extending a paw. "I'm called Jarl."
"Uh...I'm Derot", he replied after a dumb moment, taking the paw and squeezing it for a short moment. The lion's grip was firm but gentle, not unpleasant at all.
"Nice to meet you, Derot", Jarl replied quietly. "Welcome to Oxenbridge."
"I'm not staying", Derot said quickly. "Just passing through....like I already told her."
"Any destination in particular?"
"No, not really...just moving about...doing odd jobs...wandering, sort of..."
"So you're looking for work?" Jarl inquired, more curious now.
"Whatever is available", Derot spoke.
"You planning to stay here at the inn?"
"Hmm...I guess so....are there other inns in the village?"
"Say, would you like to do some work for me?" the lion suggested. "I own a small shop down the road and I've been planning to do an inventory on my wares for months now but I've been too busy to do it myself...you look like a trustworthy fur...I'd pay you some silver for it, of course."
"How much?" Derot asked, so used to making these short term deals that it came almost automatically.
"Say, sixteen silver coins? And maybe a little extra if you're good at it", he chuckled. "And you don't mess things up even worse than they already are."
The lion chuckled goodheartedly at his jibe on himself and grinned.
"Uh...I guess it's a deal then" , Derot replied with a shy smile of his own.
"Then you've got a job there, friend", the lion said. "And you can stay at my place, of course, free of charge."
"Really?" Derot asked.
"Sure, you can stay in that storage room you're supposed to clean up for me."
"Oh...well..."
"But if you rather stay here...", the lion mused before leaning closer to Derot's ear, to whisper: "Bruggy often charges extra" before he straightened himself again on the bar stool.
Derot snorted and flicker his ears.
"Hmmm...I guess then the storage room wouldn't be too bad."
The lion smiled toothily again, quite a vicious sight, but his smile was a friendly one and made up for it.
"You fancy another drink?" the lion asked, pointing at the half-full tankard.
"Well if you're buying..."
"Sure I am", Jarl the lion spoke, rapping his claws on the bar counter to rouse the burly barkeep.
"Two tankards of your dark ale and a slice of that good smoked ham you keep hidden in your back room, Bruggy, if you may", he spoke to the bear.
"Sr'do, furbs" was accompanied by another puff of acrid pipe smoke.