I've Got Your Wing... And Your Tail

Story by Jaden_Drackus on SoFurry

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Drake is a starfighter commander, Wash is his wingman. In the cockpit they're a team- and they're even better in bed.

A little science fiction story I've been working on for a little while now, exploring a more structured relationship than I usually do and exploring some new kinks for me.


There was a beauty to faster than light travel- the ship seemed to be traveling through a tunnel of bright colors swirling around it in fantastical patterns. Not that Commander Jason Horn (call sign Drake) would have been able to see the display, even if the wolfox's eyes had been open. The view from his cockpit only provided the squadron commander only a view of the ceiling of the United Terran Federation Starfighter Carrier _Intrepid'_s hanger bay.

"So what are we doing?" a voice broke into Drake's doze from over his fighter's comm.

"We're responding to a distress call," the annoyed sounding voice of Josh Roth (call sign Wash) answered. Wash was Drake's wingman, and with his fighter positioned to the right of Drake's, he could see that his commander was dozing. The raccoon was fiercely protective of Drake's sleep... among other things.

"Yeah, but why us?" the first voice returned, allowing Drake to identify it as Colt- a weasel that was one of the newer members of the squadron.

"Because," Wash returned with the tone that of a parent finished with explanations to a child. "Admiral Boyd said we're responding."

"Give the kid a break Wash," a new voice broke in. This voice was Silver, the vixen that was number three in One Flight with Drake and Wash. "He's been with us less than a year- he doesn't know the ropes yet."

"Leave the rookie alone, Wash," Drake murmured, not bothering to open his eyes as he tapped the com switch on his board. That done, the wolfox returned to his doze. His effort was slightly disrupted by the mental image of Wash trying to shrink, embarrassed, into his seat.

A quiet chirp finally broke him out of his doze. His paws were reaching for the helmet sitting on top of his console before his eyes opened. He gently pressed the helmet onto his head, making sure his ears were positioned to fit into the custom made slots for them, quickly ran a paw down his muzzle to make sure his whiskers wouldn't get caught when he closed his helmet, then flipped the front piece down over his snout. There was a click as the helmet locked and the face of a wolfhound appeared on the helmet's heads up display.

"Actually Vipers," the wolfhound- Admiral Duncan Boyd- commented after a moment allowed all Drake's pilots to get their helmets on. "We are here because the distress call from the Jump Station at Kuantus 3 came through on a military channel."

That explanation stalled any further questions. In the silence, the task force commander's eyes flicked around, obviously looking at the image of each of the pilots before settling on Drake's.

"Kuantus 3 is on the edge of Terran controlled space, and is a jump point on trade routes with three neighboring governments," Admiral Boyd continued. "It is also the closest point to the Chanthu Empire."

Drake's eyes dropped to his monitor as a data stream appeared while the Admiral talked. The Chanthu Empire was a government made up of species that resembled bipedal versions of aquatic mammals on Tera- dolphins, orcas, and whales. They were technically on good trade terms with the Federation, but in the past year a highly militant and xenophobic government had come to power in the relative power vacuum created by the death of the Emperor and the ascension of his pre-teen son. But if the steady trickle of defectors since was correct, that attitude was not universally held- perhaps not even by all of the government.

"Is Chanthu involvement suspected?" one of the other Vipers asked.

"Unknown," Boyd replied. "But we're not taking any chances. Orders- the Vipers will deploy the moment we revert to real space."

"You heard the Boss," Drake said as the Admiral's image disappeared from his HUD. He reached out a paw and began flipping the switches to begin his fighter's preflight. "Get ready for anything Vipers."

He got a series of acknowledgements as he worked through the start-up of his fighter. Engines green. Plasma cannons, ready. Missile launchers, ready. The wolfox moved the fighter's stick and gently kicked the rudder pedals, and the Gryphon class fighter rocked in the cradle. As Drake finished his own checks, the fighter's computer pinged that it had finished its own preflight.

"Viper One ready," he reported. The other eleven Vipers quickly reported in as well. Now all that was left to do was wait. Fighter Control chimed in with a five minute estimated arrival time. Drake settled back and cued his com to Viper Two's private channel. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No," Wash replied with a sigh. Drake saw the raccoon's Gryphon rock as he shifted in his seat. "But he shouldn't have been using the com when you were trying to sleep."

"I wasn't trying _that_hard hon," Drake said patiently to his mate, letting his Mid-Atlantic upbringing show through. "You know that I can't sleep very deeply in a cockpit."

That was true, and if Drake was honest with himself- he was finding it harder and harder to sleep when he wasn't being snuggled by Wash. The wolfox growled quietly to himself- it seemed that despite their efforts, after two years in a stable relationship he was becoming domesticated. The fighter pilot wasn't sure liked the idea of that. He shook his head.

"Worried about how you're settling down and in danger of becoming a responsible adult?" Silver's voice cut in to his reflections as if she had been reading his thoughts. There was an edge of humor in her tone.

"Noo," Drake replied, sounding insecure even to himself.

"I wouldn't worry about it," the happily married vixen chuckled. "It's actually rather nice."

Drake was saved from the need to reply by a shudder through the Intrepid as the ship dropped back into real space. The wolfox yanked his restraints tight and gripped his controls tight against the sensation of free-fall that the fighter's G-force compensator couldn't quite handle as the Intrepid's fighter tractor beam shoved his Gryphon out of the hanger bay.

And Drake dropped straight into a firefight.

The Gryphon's sensors screamed at him as information flooded across his HUD. The Intrepid's taskforce had dropped into the middle of a confrontation: three capital ships of unfamiliar design to the wolfox- though their generally ovoid shapes gave him the impression of marine life- clustered around a group of ships that seemed to be leaving the jump point, while a forth large ovoid hung back from the melee. The ships the strange vessels were focuses on had the boxy shape of cargo ships- any warships among them where likely the expanding clouds of debris and escape pod beacons broadcasting through the flash of laser fire. Flitting around and through the cargo ships' vectors were fighters that reminded Drake of the ancient aircraft of the Second World War, with vaguely cross-shaped designs in contrast to the delta shape of his fighter.

"Form up!" Drake called out, though he knew the order was unnecessary to his experienced pilots. Even as he threw power to his drive and skimmed along the underside of the Intrepid the Vipers swarmed into position around him and headed out to the perimeter of the taskforce.

As he rolled up and over to the Intrepid's topside, Drake looked down at his cockpit display which was showing a tactical map of the Kuantus system. Knowing that their leader had his attention on the big picture, the other Vipers began filling in the smaller details.

"Boogie capital ships are broadcasting Chanthu IDs," Wash put in. "Convey freighters are broadcasting Terran- so far, all legit."

"Four capital ships out there," Viper Seven added. "Looks like three destroyer equivalents and a fighter carrier."

"A fast attack force," Crimson, Viper Four (and Silver's husband), mused.

"Convey has ten ships remaining," Colt (the weasel was Viper Ten) put in. "I'm picking three flight recorder beacons."

"Chanthu Forces, this Admiral Duncan Boyd of the United Terran Federation Starfighter Carrier Intrepid," the wolfhound's voice cut into the reports. "You are in Federation Space. Please stand down and state your intentions."

"Drake," Wash hissed tensely. "The lead ship in the convoy. It's the Asys Wild."

"This matter does not concern the Terran Federation Intrepid," came the reply to Boyd's demand in almost perfect Terran Common. The only noticeable accent was a clicking sound on the k sound in "concern"- almost exactly what Drake would expect a dolphin or orca to sound like if they had been taught Common. Apparently in his evaluation of the situation, Drake had missed the Chanthu commander's introduction. "This convoy contains pirates that attacked His Majesty's personal yacht while in dock."

The Vipers where now passing the other ships in the task force, specifically the battleship Invincible, while her sister ship the Illustrious drifted into formation to port. The four destroyers Turner, Wood, Jansen, and Coffman were right behind the Vipers as they went to screen the formation. The two supply ships Severn and Thames drifted towards the rear of the forming bubble, using the Intrepid's bulk to screen them.

"This is Captain Michael Burns of the freighter Asys Wild," a new, but familiar voice came over the comm. "As I already explained to the commander of the Glorious Dawn, we are under contract for a supply run to the Terran military dock yards at Kerrian 4. All remaining ships have been with us since we left the Archan system."_ _

"And yet," the Chanthu commander cut in, with a chatter. "You refuse to allow us to verify these claims."

"I explained that_too," Burns replied, his voice becoming a strained growl. "This is a _government shipment. Without a senior member of the Terran military, I _cannot_allow any non-Terran officials to inspect my shipment."

"Anyone get the feeling that the 'phin isn't really comfortable with what he's doing?" Silver asked into the momentary silence.

"Probably isn't. Seeing as how he's basically being asked to create an intergalactic incident," Drake replied as he reached out to his comm board. "Stripes? You doing alright?"

"Drake?" the voice of the tiger came in reply. "Holy shit, small galaxy. That you in the Gryphons?"

"You know it," Wash replied before his commander could. "See you haven't managed to learn how to not get in trouble, Burns."

The former Viper snorted, but Boyd's reply cut in before he could reply.

"A senior member of the Terran military is here now Glorious Dawn. If you will stand down and recall your fighters, I will assist you in verifying Captain Burns' cargo."

"On me Vipers," Drake ordered on the squadron's private frequency. "We're going to into escort formation around the Wild."

Eleven acknowledgements quickly came, and Drake threw full power to his engines and brought his shields up. The visuals of his pilots and the admiral disappeared as the shields cut off all but audio and data transmissions. Drake looked down as his console _pinged_at him. A brief line of text appeared on the primary display.

Bravo Mike Delta. Approved. Do not engage unless fired upon first- Boyd.

Well. At least we have a plan, Drake thought. "Alright Vipers, we do this clean. Do not engage unless in danger."

"Fun," Viper Nine groused. "They really expect us not to engage?"

"Start an intergalactic incident on your own time," Drake shot back. "You're not doing it while I'm paying you."

That silenced any further comments, as the Vipers (who had circled back towards the Intrepid as part of the standard fighter screen pattern) roared past the now formed Terran destroyer screen. The four ships were shifting from the standard bubble formation into an attack wedge. Apparently, the discussions with the Chanthu forces weren't going well. One of the Vipers let out an incredulous whistle.

"Will you look at the shield ratings on those fighters? Almost nothing."

"Probably means they are agile as hell," Crimson replied.

A predatory smile split Drake's muzzle as a swell of pride filled him. Every Viper had been in the cockpit for a minimum of five years, and the squadron had had a stable roster for the entire two years they had been assigned to the Intrepid. All had seen combat. All had confirmed kills. They may have given Colt grief for being a rookie, but outside the Vipers he would be an elite pilot in any squadron. The Chanthu pilots had no idea what was coming at them.

"Stripes, bring your people on to heading zero nine zero. We're coming to you."

"Copy Drake. But be careful. These guys are acting serious."

"That shit about the yacht?" Wash asked.

"Might have been true," the tiger acknowledged. "We picked up those three other ships out at Laylwood Minor. Soon as the Chanthu showed up they tried to bolt. But I'm getting the feeling now that they were using that as cover to try and confiscate our cargo. And those orders came from over the commander's head. He's been acting like he's looking for a way he can claim he needed to disengage without making it look like he was refusing orders."

"I'm getting that read too," Boyd's voice cut into the channel with a grunt. "Well, he's out gunned now. So he has his reason."

And Boyd was definitely going to give his opposite number the reason, Drake saw as he looked down at his tactical display. Behind him, the destroyers had finished forming up into an attack wedge. Ahead of the Vipers the Chanthu fighters formed up into a defensive screen. Suddenly, a burst of plasma shot out towards the Terran fighters.

"They're shooting," Viper Seven called out, her voice tense but even.

"Easy," Drake hissed. "Let's make sure it wasn't a misfire."

It wasn't. The Chanthu fighters opened up in earnest as the Vipers stormed into their effective range. With a reluctant sigh, Drake gave the order to engage. As the commander had known, the enemy pilots simply were not prepared for the Vipers and were completely out-classed. Five minutes later, it was all over. The Chanthu task force retreated into FTL, leaving behind five of their pilots who had ejected as their craft were destroyed. The Vipers hadn't even had a shield go down. After marking the ejection seats for the rescue shuttles, they escorted the convoy to the out system jump beacon and then headed back to the Intrepid.

Three hours later, the debriefings were finished, the reports were filed, and finally it was time to relax. Drake stopped by his quarters and grabbed his toiletries before heading to the four person locker room and shower that he shared with the rest of the members of One Flight. He stripped, visited the attached restroom, and then headed into the shower.

Drake had just put his soap on the ledge when he felt a presence behind him. He could not tell who it was- the scents of tile and metal cleaner, as well as scent neutralizing soaps made it impossible to identify anyone by scent in the showers. The commander didn't respond to that sense, respecting what little privacy could be had in a semi-public shower- but it turned out that the other person had no such interests. Drake stood up as he felt a larger body press up against his. That fact, the knowledge that only four people used this locker room and shower, combined with the "violation" of his personal space told Drake who it was.

"Mmmm. Hello there foxy," Wash whispered, his muzzle slowly pressing into Drake's ear and his arm wrapping around his boyfriend's chest. His tongue pressed into the sensitive canine ear.

Drake let out a little whimper as the raccoon pressed against him. While Drake took more after his father in terms of his build and his height (he was the second tallest member of the squadron- right behind Wash), he had inherited a fox's pattern from his mother- right down to the black slashes on the sides of his muzzle and black socks on his hind paws. His fur was a much more brown than foxes and his ears where the same color as his main fur color, which prevented most people from assuming he was a full-blooded fox. Wash was the only one who ever called him a fox- and only for the purpose of establishing what kind of sexual game they were going to play. "Foxy" meant that Wash was in charge. Drake felt himself slipping into purely submissive mode, and his tail almost instinctively raised, rubbing along the raccoon's leg and torso.

"Let's get you taken care of," Wash continued with an imitation of a feline purr. His arm left Drake's chest and moved up his arms. Drake felt a pressure on his wrist and he looked up to see the raccoon attaching a pair of cuffs to his wrists, leaving the wolfox shackled to the sonic shower's emitter pipe. Drake gave the cuffs a tug to make sure they were attached correctly, and to check to make sure the quick release was easily accessible. That done, Wash took a step back.

"Turtle?"

"Turtle," Drake confirmed with a nod. They probably wouldn't need the safe word. So far, their adventures into bondage hadn't gone further than the cuffs- and probably wouldn't go much further, as it gave Drake the loss of control he wanted without making him feel like just an object. But they had decided that it was much better to be (pun semi intended) safe than sorry. As pilots, neither welcomed the idea of flying anything- even each other- without an eject button in the unlikely event they needed it.

"Ok," Wash said as he reached around to turn the shower on. Drake gave the raccoon's cheek ruff a playful lick. Wash giggled and returned the lick.

The military sonic showers, which used low intensity sound waves to keep a small amount of water in the air (thereby using a great deal less of it) as a fine mist, had long proven conducive to sexual escapades since there was little danger of self-inflicted drowning ("cocker boarding", Drake had once heard as the term for accidental attempted drowning while giving a blowjob in a traditional shower). Wash nuzzled Drake's ear as he reached to grab the wolfox's soap. Then with much kissing, nuzzling, groping, and fondling Wash carefully and thoroughly lathered the wolfox up and cleaned his mate's fur.

Of course, much attention was paid to the wolfox's cheek ruffs, his sensitive ears, and then down to his hips. The soap that Drake favored wasn't very strong- just enough to take the edge off the stronger (to other species) canine musk, meaning that Drake could smell the raccoon's scent as Wash pressed close- the pine scent of the soap adding a slightly exotic feel to the whole experience.

"Well now," Wash chuckled as his soapy paws came around Drake's hips and found the wolfox's feelings on the experience. "Someone's enjoying this."

"I always enjoy time with you," Drake moaned as the raccoon began to soap his sheath, sac, and the tip of his shaft that was already emerging from his sheath.

"Times like this more than others," Wash laughed as he spread the soap over Drake's hips and down his muscular rump and under his fluffy tail. Wash grinned broadly as he spread his boyfriend's firm, well rounded, muscular cheeks and gently ran his paws down the crack between them. Wash had to admit the moans that escaped from Drake's muzzle as his fingers ran over the wolfox's tail hole where as arousing to him as being washed was to Drake. The moan was replaced by a gasp as Wash's cock slipped from his sheath enough to poke the wolfox right under his rump. The earthy, spiced wood scent of raccoon musk grew stronger than the scent of the soap.

Drake breathed in the raccoon's scent, letting it arouse him even more than the feeling of Wash soaping up his thighs and working down to his hind paws. The canine moaned as he felt more of his shaft slip out into the warm mist of the shower.

Wash grunted as he knelt down to wash the wolfox's socks, an action that brought the raccoon's nose directly behind the canine's sac. The canine's scent, one that reminded Wash of the oak and maple trees of the Mid-Atlantic forest they had visited the last time he and Drake had been to Terra, tinged with pine was so intoxicating that he almost gave up on the game right then and there. The urge to bury his muzzle in Drake's well-toned rump, then reach up and un-cuff him and go at it in the shower in a more traditional manner was almost overwhelming. The raccoon's rear twitched as he visualized Drake's knotted shaft, separated from him now only by that brown rump and white belly and fantasized about the times Drake had lodged that knot inside him and tied him for an hour of post sex snuggles.

But the public shower was no place to spend an hour waiting for your mate's knot to go down enough that he didn't rip your ass apart when he pulled out. Instead Wash settled for biting the wagging tail that had been smacking his face as he washed the commander's paws. He held the tail in his muzzle, ignoring the soapy taste as he inhaled Drake's scent. The tail shuddered against his mouth, and the raccoon growled softly, which caused even more shuddering from the tail. Wash let this continue for a long moment, until the urge to give up on his game passed. Now that he had recovered his balance, the raccoon let go of his mate's tail and stood up. Time for the next part of the game.

Wash's presence left Drake, and the wolfox whimpered as the electric feeling of close contact with his mate dissipated. The sense of fun with this game also briefly vanished: without Wash's lean body pressing against his, he was just an idiot cuffed to the shower- a prank he had enough experience with to be tired of. It wouldn't do for the senior Starfighter Wing Commander to be thought of as a prank victim. But the feeling didn't last long.

"Over here foxy."

Drake looked over his right arm to find Wash standing there, the handsome raccoon smiling as he held Drake's soap to the lighter gray chest fur of his chest. He favored Drake with that devious smile that raccoons did so well and proceeded to lather himself up, as he had his mate a moment before. He started with his ears, worked his way through his cheek ruffs, and cleaned his mask and narrower muzzle before dropping his paws to his chest. As with all military males, that chest and torso were obviously well muscled- even through the raccoon's gray fur. Wash worked his way down his all but monochromatic gray body, though he took considerable time on his exposed pink shaft and gray sac and chuckled as Drake growled seductively and wagged at the display. The raccoon chuckled and turned his back to the wolfox and cleaned his bushy rigged tail before lifting it to massage the soap into his well-toned rear. Wash could hear the sound of the cuffs _clink_ing against the pipe as Drake adjusted his position to either watch the raccoon better or try to get closer to his mate.

Wash chuckled again as he put Drake's soap back on the shelf as the wolfox leaned out to nip at the raccoon's ear. Wash let him get close, then pushed the canine's head back with his own.

"Down boy," Wash whispered into his boyfriend's ear before he nipped it in revenge. "No ears for you right now. But I did notice you took a long time in the stall. Were you a good foxy and got yourself ready?"

Drake nodded happily, his tail slapping happily against Wash as he wagged. He was getting excited, and it showed in his tone. "Yes, yes! All ready- lubed and everythin.."

His reply was changed to a moan as Wash squeezed his rear with one paw and gently inserted a finger into Drake's prepared tail hole. The wolfox groaned and wiggled as Wash worked another finger in and swirled them around. Wash wrapped his arm around Drake and felt the canine shudder as the raccoon's fingers stretched his insides. After another moment, he withdrew his fingers and kissed Drake's cheek.

"Good boy," the raccoon whispered. He reached down and lifted up Drake's left leg, then positioned the tip of his shaft right against the wolfox's tail hole. He gently wiggled his hips to rub his head over the sensitive opening. "Always so thoughtful."

With that comment, the raccoon slid the rounded tip of his into his mate's tail hole. The wolfox gasped and moaned loudly as the shaft slid inside him. The electric tingle of being penetrated shot through his spine, up to the tip of his ears and down to the tip of his tail at the same time. He groaned and pulled at the cuffs as he felt himself instinctively clench against Wash's shaft. That elicited a purr from the raccoon as he began to thrust deeply into the wolfox.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the canine cuffed to the shower while the raccoon held one of his legs in the air and trust deeply and quickly into his tail hole. Wash was clearly in a hurry- while the chance of discovery adding to the thrill of them mating in so public a place, the raccoon just as clearly had no real interest in actually getting caught. Drake moaned and whimpered, while any vocalizations Wash may have made were changed to muted growls as the raccoon took a muzzleful of the wolfox's neck fur. The part of Drake's mind that wasn't given completely over to pleasure was glad the raccoon was topping- Wash's cock was a cylindrical with a rounded head and no knot, unlike Drake's own tapered, pointed, and knotted shaft. That meant that there was no danger of being stuck tied together. The canine groaned as the raccoon picked up his pace even more and took a tight grip on Drake's hips and bit his neck fur harder. With a final thrust, the raccoon hilted the wolfox and Drake felt the shaft inside him spasm and then he felt a small swelling as Wash released his seed into his mate. The raccoon shuddered and collapsed against Drake as he came down from his orgasm. The raccoon panted and nuzzled the wolfox's neck while Drake whimpered and wiggled his hips to wave his untouched erection in the mist. Wash chuckled and slid gently out from Drake's tail hole. With one paw he reached down and put a finger back into Drake's tail hole to keep his seed inside the wolfox, and with the other paw he reached up and hit the quick release on the cuffs.

"Don't worry foxy. We'll take care of that, I promise," Wash soothed as he turned off the shower. "Just not here. Why don't you walk out into the locker room?"

The wolfox nodded and with the cuffs still attached to his left wrist and with Wash walking behind him with his finger up his tail hole, Drake headed out into the locker room. They reached the bench and Drake saw what Wash had in mind. Laid out on the bench, beside two towels, was a collection of items that could loosely be called clothing. Next to those, was one of their prized self-lubricating butt plugs. Wash reached for that last item, and gave it a squeeze to let the lube begin to seep through the plug's surface from the internal reservoir. That done, he activated the vibrating feature and then put the plug under Drake's tail. Then the raccoon removed his finger and quickly slid the plug in before any of his cum could leak out. Drake moaned and whimpered as the vibrations began to stimulate his insides and his cock twitched and dripped a steady trickle of pre. His knot, which had been swelling in the shower, reached its full size. He felt the vibrations ease a little, as Wash chuckled and rubbed his rump, and he felt himself backing away from an impending climax. Wash released the wolfox's rear, then grabbed the towels and dried first Drake and then himself off before tossing them in the nearby hamper. The raccoon kissed the canine on the cheek.

"Let's get you dressed, shall we?" he asked with a naughty smile.

Dressed was something of an overstatement to Drake's thinking as he looked at the items on the bench. One form-fitting black jockstrap that was Wash's favorite in the wolfox's collection, one black leather collar with ring and a leash sitting next to it, and one leather muzzle- a surprise which now explained just why Wash had been so insistent on sitting in when Drake had been measured for a new helmet last month. Sitting next to this collection was a dark blue robe, but it was Wash's. Drake's tail and ears drooped as he began to have a really bad feeling about this situation.

It wasn't that the relationship was between two males- the days when people cared about that were ancient history. It wasn't that the relationship was between squadron mates- Crimson and Silver were proof of that (though there was some minor frowning about officers engaging in such relationships with subordinates). But if it wouldn't do to have the senior starfighter commander be thought the victim of a prank, it would do even less for him to be paraded practically naked through the corridors on a leash.

Drake thought about it for what to him seemed like an eternity. Part of him want to say no, to insist on a robe and nix the leash and the muzzle. But another part of him thought of an unhappy raccoon, and he didn't want to make Wash unhappy over something as trivial as sex. He thought back to their conversations with Silver back when they had decided to include bondage and much more structured Dom/Sub roles as part of their sex life. The slightly older vixen had a great deal of experience in such relationships. Trust she had said was the most important thing. For Drake as a sub, he had to trust Wash to know what he was doing, trust that he wouldn't take advantage of the wolfox, trust that Wash would take care of Drake's needs as well as own. Wash's job was to prove worthy of that trust, the vixen had gone on. Wash had to show that he had Drake's best interests at heart, show that he wouldn't push his mate too far outside his comfort zones, and that he would back down if he did go too far outside those zones.

As he remembered those conversations, he saw the little signs that Wash was indeed abiding by those rules. Now that he was focused, he saw that Wash's robe was not on the bench, but on top of another robe. Also, Drake could now see the outline of a comlink in the pocket of Wash's robe. He had probably cleared the corridor between here and the quarters they shared-except for some very specific people. Out of the corner of his eye, Drake saw Wash pull on a set of formfitting boxer briefs and then look over at the wolfox with concern as his practiced fingers fastened the waistband over his tail. Drake's nose twitched a little and then let out a little sigh.

"How am I supposed to eject if I can't speak?" the wolfox finally asked, burying his concern in safety procedures.

Wash nodded and reached to the side of the robes away from Drake and produced what appeared to be a black circle slightly smaller than the raccoon's paw with a notch cut in it. Once he saw it, Drake recognized it as a portable signal light. Wash turned the notch towards Drake and squeezed the disk blinking out a pattern, I love you. Then the raccoon hugged his mate and held him tight and the gently rubbed their muzzles against each other's. The whole scene might have been cute and romantic to an observer- except for the wolfox's leaking erection and the buzzing coming from under his tail.

"Okay," Drake said with a sigh and a lick to Wash's muzzle. "We can do this."

Drake reached out and took the jockstrap and put it on. The outline of his erection was clearly visible under the stretchy fabric pressed up against his groin. Almost immediately, a wet spot formed at the tip as he continued to leak pre. Wash gave him a kiss on the cheek and pulled his arms behind him and cuffed his wrists again. He checked with Drake to make sure that the wolfox was comfortable, then reached down and picked up the collar and put it on his mate with a kiss on his cheek. Then the raccoon put the signal light in Drake's paw. The wolfox squeezed it and blinked out Okay. Wash nodded and put the muzzle on Drake and secured it tightly. Drake tried to open his muzzle and got it open just enough where he could breathe through his muzzle or pant, but not enough to speak. Finally, the raccoon attached the leash before he put on his robe. He took the leash in one paw, and tucked Drake's robe under his arm.

With his mate in tow, Wash went to the door and paused to look outside. Drake found himself sniffing- the scent of his own arousal was fairly thick in the air, but even over the canine musk he thought he could detect the faint earthy scent of Wash's musk. It took him a moment to recognize that it was coming from the muzzle. He briefly wondered how the hell Wash had managed that trick without him knowing the raccoon had even gotten the muzzle. Wash ducked his head back in.

"All clear. You doing okay sweetie?"

Drake turned as much as the leash would allow. Getting warm back here, he blinked.

"How warm?" Wash asked, sudden concern on his face as he fished for something in his pocket. The vibrations eased a little more. "Too warm?"

Okay now. Drake blinked. There was a slight cooling sensation in his insides as the plug released a little more lube.

With a gentle tug, Wash pulled Drake into the corridor. As the raccoon had promised, the corridor was deserted and he led the restrained wolfox towards their quarters.

It didn't remain deserted for long. As they rounded the one corner between the locker room and their quarters, Wash slowed. Drake came around the corner to see two full blooded foxes standing in the corridor, their backs to opposite bulkheads as if they had been chatting. The commander knew that it was an illusion- while those two specific foxes could in theory be randomly chatting in the corridor, it was unlikely given the fact that like Drake and Wash they too shared quarters. He sighed internally, but was felt that he was okay with this- after all, it had been this fox couple that had introduced them to these kinds of games. Now that the warming sensation under his tail had gone down, he actually had to admit that he was kind of enjoying the thought of this kind of attention and felt his tail start to wag just a bit.

The two foxes- Crimson and Silver (their respective fur colors left little doubt as to how they had come by those call signs) looked up and smiled as Wash approached with Drake in tow. Silver's smile was that of a proud teacher as she looked on at her students before trotting down the corridor to give Wash a hug. Crimson (Silver's husband) gave the knowing smile of someone aware that a game was being played that didn't involve them and then gave Drake the sympathetic smile of someone who has often been in a similar situation. Silver finished her hug with Wash and then looked Drake over.

"Well look at you," the silver furred vixen said with a purr. She took the leash from Wash and walked around Drake. "I'm really liking this look for you, commander. Love that jockstrap. Crim? Do I have one of those for you?"

"I don't think so," the reddish-orange reynard replied after giving Drake's crotch a quick glance. Drake felt his cock twitch at the attention, and could feel the expanding wet spot spread further down his shaft. Crimson's muzzle remained impassive, showing no sign that he was even aware that the other male was soaking his only garment with his own pre. Of course, given the nature of his relationship with Silver it was likely far from the first time he had seen such a display. "But all my gear is green anyway."

"Hmm," Silver mused as she studied Drake's crotch.

"They did have them in green," Wash offered. "I can send you the catalog."

"Thank you," Silver said. She walked closer to Drake. "May I touch?"

"It's okay," Wash said quietly, after he looked at Drake and got a nod from the wolfox. Silver also looked for the nod, but waited for Wash's reply before she reached down and put a black furred paw on Drake's hip. She grinned as she felt the vibrations from the plug through the wolfox's body.

"Very nice," she purred. "What is that? The DomPlug V2?"

"The V3," Wash said with a smile. "It's got custom programmable vibration settings. There's a sensor ring in the lube chamber which can record your style of topping."

"Oh you naughty raccoon," Silver cooed. "Is he fucking himself?"

Suddenly, the vibrations in his rear changed and Drake let out a half whimper, half howl in response.

"He is now," Wash replied with a grin. "With the lube reservoir and the pressure sensor, the plug can edge you for three hours."

"Safely?" Silver asked as she removed her paw from Drake's hip and looked sternly at Wash.

"We haven't tried it that long," the raccoon replied with a swish of his tail. "Not going to right now either. Probably needs some adjusting to the vibrations- he was complaining about it getting warm a few minutes ago. Turning down the vibrations and releasing some more lube helped that."

"Still," Silver mused, the frown that had crossed her face fading a little she considered that. "Probably best for you boys to get moving." She reached up and gave Drake a scratch behind his ears. The wolfox growled in appreciation. The vixen gave him a friendly ear nuzzle and a pat on the rear before handing the leash back to Wash.

The two lovers continued on, and Crimson threw the pair a salute as they passed. Drake wagged happily and they reached their quarters without any further incident. Wash led Drake to the foot of their bed, then went and locked the door. Drake remained standing where Wash had stopped him like a good pet was supposed to. He had to admit, even though he would not have considered pet play on his own-he actually felt rather sexy being a pet. Perhaps being domesticated wasn't such a bad thing after all.

He had barely contemplated that when he was knocked off his paws and slammed onto the bed, with the weight of a fully grown male raccoon pinning him down. Wash began to make out with him with an energy that bordered on desperation. Kisses landed on his chest, neck, cheek before the raccoon's muzzle was pushed into his ear.

"Oh foxy," Wash breathed in a husky tone. "You were so perfect. You were so sexy."

A warm wet pressure pushed against the inside of Drake's ear as the raccoon licked it hungrily and sent shivers through the wolfox. Drake moaned at the attention, only then realizing his muzzle was free. Of course, that wasn't the only magical feat the raccoon had somehow performed. As he looked past the raccoon's shoulder, Drake could see that his boyfriend was completely naked and if the sensation poking him in the stomach was anything to go by, he was also fully erect. Wash turned his attention to Drake's other ear and he reached under Drake's lithe body to hit the quick release on the cuffs.

"God Drake, you are so handsome like this. It was all I could do to keep my paws off you. I love you baby so much."

With Wash's tongue buried in his ear, Drake could only moan in reply. He reached down to show his affection by stroking the raccoon's shaft, but Wash took hold of his wrist.

"Don't worry about that sweetheart," the raccoon said lustily as he reached up and undid Drake's collar. "This is all about you. You've let me have my fun. Now we take care of you. Tell me. We'll do anything you want."

The wolfox thought about that for a moments, long enough for Wash to lean back and then removed Drake's soaked jockstrap. Drake looked up to see the fur on Wash's torso matted down with his pre. The raccoon's shaft bobbed invitingly in front of him, which caused Drake to run his tongue over his muzzle. The raccoon smiled, but remained where he was, clearly waiting for Drake to make the next move.

It didn't take long for Drake to decide. After a moment of watching the raccoon, the wolfox reached up and pulled him into a tight hug. As they held each other, Drake whispered into Wash's ear before giving it a playful nip. Wash giggled.

"You are such a cum slut sometimes."

"All the times," Drake replied deadpan.

"Just one more reason I love you," Wash said with a kiss.

Drake didn't get a chance to respond to that in words, though Wash's aptitude for doing the unexpected did come to mind, all he could do was moan as the raccoon reached between his legs and pulled the plug out of his tail hole. With no hesitation, Wash shoved the plug into his own tail hole with a moan of his own. Clearly Drake wasn't the only one who had gotten prepared before their shower.

For a minute, the two lovers kissed and nuzzled each other, licking muzzles, nipping ears, and rubbing their erections together. Moans, groans, and giggles escaped from the pair. Wash gave Drake a quick kiss to his cheek ruff, then pulled himself off the canine. He left the bed and began to rummage for something in the nightstand drawer. Drake took advantage of the situation to caress the raccoon's muscular, vibrating rump with his paw. Wash lifted his tail helpfully to give Drake full access while he continued to work with something in drawer. Soon, the raccoon returned to the bed, the mate of the plug that was in his rear in his paws. A moment later, Wash pressed the lubricated plug into Drake's tail hole. The wolfox gasped and moaned as the plug entered him again, then moaned and whimpered as it registered that Wash had set the vibration pattern to the raccoon's own thrusting pattern.

The raccoon smiled and moaned himself as he straddled Drake's hips and let their balls and shafts touch and vibrate against each other. They sat there and rubbed each other's hips as they reveled in the sense of being fucked by each other even though their shafts were laying against each other. Drake's knot began to swell again as the wolfox moved his paw to stroke his boyfriend. He was rewarded with hearing the raccoon's own whimpers of pleasure. Wash leaned down and spent the next few moments running his paws up and down Drake's sides and nuzzling, moaning, and whimpering into Drake's sensitive ears. It didn't take long for the wolfox to begin whimpering and moaning in return as he began to feel the pressure of an orgasm building in his loins.

Wash apparently wasn't far behind, as he reached down and pulled Drake's paw from his shaft as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. The raccoon reached down and took hold of both their cocks, which had been leaking enough pre that Drake's fur was completely matted to his stomach. That was enough for lubrication as the raccoon stroked them both off. It didn't take long for both of them to begin to moan and pant as orgasms built inside them. Drake pushed his hips up into Wash as the raccoon picked up his pace. The feeling was electric, and Drake shuddered and felt Wash shudder as well.

A moment later, both of them let out loud moans as their heads rolled back in pleasure. Wash pointed their cocks at Drake's chin in the moment before they released. Drake felt Wash's cock twitch against his as he felt them both release at the same moment. Their warm seed splashed against his fur, coating him in a line from his groin, up his torso, and hitting the underside of his chin.

They moaned through their shared ecstasy, their shafts twitching against each other's as they released several pulses of cum on to Drake's fur. The wolfox reveled in the sensation as he came shuddering and panting down from the heights of his climax. Drake had to admit that Wash was certainly right about his love of being covered in cum, but it just felt so good. The panting raccoon flopped down on to his cum covered mate and for several minutes they just lay there and cuddled. Wash reached over and switched the plugs off and then they dozed.

Drake woke ten minutes later to find Wash had rolled off of him and was lying next him on the bed. Carefully, the wolfox pulled his arm out from under the still sleeping raccoon. He wasn't careful enough, and Wash's gold eyes opened.

"So soon?" he asked sleepily.

"Just for a few minutes baby. I need to get cleaned up and then we can get some real sleep," Drake reassured him as he got to his paws and pulled his plug out. One of the perks of Drake's rank was that his quarters did have a small shower stall- but it was just barely large enough for one of them to shower alone, which was why it went unused in most circumstances.

"Awww, why?"

"You know why hun. I have the bridge tonight." Normally fighter squadron commanders didn't pull bridge duty, but given the Intrepid's extended deployment there weren't as many senior officers. Not counting Admiral Boyd, Drake was third in command of the Intrepid.

"Okay," Wash said in the tone of someone who didn't like an answer but knew that argument wouldn't get them anywhere. He ran a paw through Drake's matted belly fur, then pulled his own plug out and put it in the canine's outstretched paw. "Use the honey lemon soap, it's the best at getting rid of the sex smell without being obvious that that's what you're doing."

"Yes dear," Drake replied and headed to the shower with a happy wag.

Wash watched him go just long enough to ensure that his dreams would be full of his wolfox's rear before rolling over and drifting off to sleep.