Prologue
A few years earlier.....(Klaud Richter POV)
“Get on your knees.”
“Excuse me?” The young cattle dog replied, obstinately. He remained a few feet from my cabin door, arms crossed over his bare chest. The sea was rocking us thoroughly tonight, the planks of my quarters singing their creaking hymn, filling the silence between us. The boy had sea legs, to be sure… most of the new men were below-decks hugging a bucket. He stood before me without any signs of instability, swaying like it was second nature with the rocking cabin, footpaws firmly planted.
“Was I unclear?” I enunciated, undoing my cuffs and shucking off my shirt onto the bunk behind me. I stood, approaching him. I had nearly six inches on the boy. Honestly, I was having trouble remembering his name, even despite the events that had transpired after our first… aggressive… encounter.
“No, sir.” He arched an eyebrow. “But I’m fairly certain that’s not an order you can issue.”
“I can issue whatever order I please. I’m your Admiral.” I replied, too amused at this point to be irritated. This one was different. Arrogant, despite his rank. Fearless.
And probably a damned good time, if I could ever get him… entirely… out of his clothes. Last night’s encounter had been just enough to leave me grinding out my frustrations into the sheets. But I didn’t mind a fight. If anything, the thrill made it all the more worth the sparring, however long and drawn out he made the chase.
In any case, judging by how he’d left my cabin, I had hopes he’d spent a night in frustration, as well.
“Still fairly certain that’s not a command you can issue to one of your men, Admiral.” He growled.
I smirked. “Alright, then.” I approached him in slow, measured steps, until we were face to face. Then I moved my paws down to my waistline and undid my belt. I saw him watching me, confused, but intrigued. By the time my pants hit the floor, he was back to looking obstinate. But this time the expression looked a lot more forced and he was very clearly having trouble keeping his eyes from roving.
Check that. He wasn’t bothering to keep his eyes from roving.
“… this doesn’t change anything.” He muttered.
“I’m changing my demands.” I said. “I happen to know you’re fond of wrestling. I’ve seen you below-decks, with the men.”
He looked curious, at that. “… alright, sure. Yeah.”
“You’re good. Very good.”
“I’m… decent.” He said with what may have been a hint of modesty. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be as interested in it if it wasn’t such a good excuse to-” he paused at that.
“Grapple another man?” I smirked. “Favorite sport of mine at the Academy. Same reason.”
He gave me a long look, apparently seeing where I was going with this. “You’re a bit far out of my weight class.” He muttered. “I’ve taken bigger guys, but-”
“Have you now?”
He narrowed his gold eyes at me, at that. I’d never seen eyes so gold. They looked like they belonged on a wolf. “Fine.” He said, gruffly. “You’re on. Do we have to do this nude?”
“If you keep your clothes on, so do I.”
He seemed to weigh that for a moment or so, then relented, reaching down and undoing his own trousers. He kicked them off without another thought, allowing me a sight of his lean, speckled body. His fur was short and coarse, dull grey and dappled, his only distinct markings being those on his head and shoulders. Heelers were so poorly-bred, they may as well have been mutts. This dog was as low as low-born got.
I wanted him like nothing else. And nothing was going to stop me.
He fell into position and I took the cue to do the same. We eyed one another for one long moment… .
Then we crashed into each other like waves in a tempest. My limbs entangled with his and immediately I was able to use my size and momentum to bring him down. But he wasn’t going to let me pin him that easily. The boy was all muscle and startlingly strong for his size. He slipped from my grasp swiftly, attempting to lock me with his thighs. I found an opening in his midsection and took it, twisting my legs and using the angle he’d locked me in to force his open, instead.
Several more moments of struggling saw me getting the upper-hand. He probably knew he was losing, but he never stopped fighting me. It had been some time since I’d wrestled, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t just a weight advantage I had over him. He had no real technique… just grit.
When I knew I had him fully pinned, he groaned and arched his body once more beneath mine, trying fruitlessly to escape with whatever muster he had left. I could almost FEEL how much being overpowered and held down disagreed with the fiery young man, and the satisfaction shot straight down my body to my groin, where my excitement was fast making itself known.
“What IS your name?” I growled, tail thrashing. “I’ve forgotten since yesterday.”
“… Luther.” He snarled, finally admitting defeat in body, if not in mind. “Though I doubt you give a damn.”
“I may if I see you more frequently. And if our interactions can be more… pleasant.” I emphasized the last word, as I released his wrists, still sitting atop him so as not to let him up.
“I don’t like men like you.” He replied, derisively. “So don’t bet on it. Enjoy your paws.”
“Come now. You’re attracted to me.” I said with a pointed smirk down at his own peaking arousal. That only got a MORE irritated look out of him. “I’m attracted to you. Surely we can make this work.”
“I’m not going to be some arrogant shithead Pedigree’s… toy.” He growled. “I don’t care if you pitch me overboard.”
I looked down on him, thoughtfully. Perhaps I WAS going about this the wrong way. If I got what I wanted in the end, did it really matter how I got it? Perhaps a few concessions could be made. You caught more flies with honey.
“What are you doing?” He glanced down at me, ears perking, lifting himself up by his palms.
I slipped my nose down his abdomen, running it down the cleft towards his navel. I saw him watching me, eyes widening somewhat. I’d let up off of him by this point… he could have fled if he’d wished to. But by the time my tongue found the slick, warm tip protruding from his sheath, I knew the chances of that were slim.
He groaned, his head thunking back against the wooden planks of the floor. Between a few ragged panting breaths, he muttered a word that sounded vaguely like, “… Pedigrees… .”
