Bonds of Silver, Bonds of Gold 10: Value (Part 3)

I woke to sunlight streaming in from high, narrow windows along the outer wall of the baron’s room. The memories of the night before were a blur of images and impressions: the view of Baris through the rain, the staircase from the roof, cloudy witchlights flickering like stars, endless stone corridors, a wolf and rabbit in an embrace gazing down from above. I remembered a caress against the small of my back, the warmth of my master as he lay atop me. I closed my eyes again and smiled, remembering the feel of my master’s shaft within me, the scent of his arousal and the sounds of his desire. He took his time, delaying his release as long as he could, until the ache between my legs had been soothed, replaced with the heat of his climax.

After that, he lay beside me, his muzzle resting on my shoulder. One of his arms was beneath my head; the other paw rested on my stomach. The blankets lay in a tangle, half-discarded, across my legs. At some point afterwards, I knew I had slept, but the shift from that dreamlike state to unconsciousness and back to awareness after was hazy, and untangling the memories from the dreams seemed unnecessary. I was in my master’s arms. I was safe. Beyond that, all was details I could leave to him.

Still half-asleep, I rolled onto my side to press my back to my master’s chest; his sheath nestled against my rump. The air held a faint chill, and I tried to drag the blanket up with my hinds, but as I reached for it with one forepaw, the baron yawned and hugged me from behind. “Good morning, pet.” He sat up enough to grab the cover, then pulled it up over us. Snuggling again against my back, his muzzle brushed the back of my head, and then his tongue slid along one of my ears, making me squirm and giggle. “Awake for real, this time?”

“Yes, master,” I murmured in reply, eyes closing. “At least, I think so.”

The baron nodded, then licked the back of my other ear, making me whimper. “You were quite good last night, pet. A bit inquisitive, perhaps.”

My ears flushed at that. “I’m sorry about that, master.”

My master clucked his tongue. “It’s fine; I asked you to be. I’m curious where you heard my mother’s name, though. I’m guessing Aura mentioned it.”

I shook my head in response. “Not at first, master; it was Mister Dion who brought her up; Miss Aura seemed reluctant to discuss her.”

My master sighed. “Old feuds, back to haunt us. Some days I wish the past would just leave me be.”

I rolled over to face the baron, resting my head on his shoulder. “Master?”

“It’s nothing.” The baron held quiet for a moment, then sighed. “So it’s not nothing, but it’s old history.” He motioned to the portrait on the wall. “My mother was Baron Jazinsk’s daughter. Their marriage was meant to end a war, but they ended up falling in love instead.” The wolf chuckled dryly. “Now I’m trying to do it again.”

I blinked; his words reminded me of him having said the same the night before, but that wasn’t possible. I swallowed and risked a sensitive question. “So she adopted you, but then who is—”

The baron growled at that and his eyes hardened, making me cringe. “No, pet,” my master said a tight voice. “I said she was my mother, and I meant it.”

I quickly ducked my head. “I’m sorry, master.”

“It’s a fair assumption,” the baron conceded. “Normally, it’s not possible. Aura and her husband fixed that, but… Mother was never really well after that. She died when I was five.”

I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry, master.” Inside, though, my mind was spinning. Suddenly much of what Aura had hinted came together.

The baron grinned. “Forgiven, though you have been quite talkative this morning.” One paw touched the top of my head. “I’ve a much better use for that muzzle of yours.”

Despite my embarrassment—or perhaps because of it—I felt a rush of heat between my legs at the thought. “Yes, master.” As he lightly pushed, I nuzzled my way down his chest and stomach, nibbling at his fur. His sheath was already full, the skin tightening, with his shaft beginning to poke out from its opening. I put my muzzle to its tip and kissed it, then pressed one paw against its base, stroking over the sensitive sac and the tender orbs within with my pads. It took little coaxing to draw it fully from its home, and I slid my lips down around him, caressing him inside my muzzle with my tongue.

The baron let out a wistful moan. “Oh, Matska but you’re good at that. That’s much better than all those words.” His hips began to roll, slowly pumping himself further into my throat. “You don’t need to worry about the state of affairs; you just need to please your master.”

I moaned softly in response, pressing my nosepad into the fur of his groin, letting his sweet and heavy musk fill my senses. I closed my eyes and sunk into my task, sucking eagerly, caressing his sheath with my pads, stroking the loose skin over the sensitive base of his shaft. My own thighs began to tingle in response, then to ache as I listening to his eager whimpers. His paws rested on the back of my head and he began to pump himself into my muzzle, giving me opportunity to lick the length of his shaft as he pulled away from me, then circle the tip as he prepared to thrust again. One of my paws drifted to between my legs, but all I could do was inflame my own need, urging myself to please my master that much more.

It took little enough for the baron to begin panting, then growling eagerly as he neared release. His knot thickened in my paws as I caressed it, rubbing it tenderly with my pads to coax soft whines from my master’s muzzle. His paws held me against his shaft, instinctively trying to press himself into me, and I struggled to keep my teeth clear of his sensitive flesh as his movements became more insistent, less controlled. Soon, his fingers clenched at the bases of my ears, and with a groan he thrust himself forward, filling my muzzle with his musky seed. He jerked a few more times, his body shaking, and then he slumped against the bed while I eagerly suckled the last of his gift from his shaft and swallowed hungrily.

The baron let out a growl. “Oh, Taneh… such an eager plaything.” He sagged against me, hugging me to his groin, then tensed. “Hold… very still, pet.”

I mmphed in confusion, his shaft still within my muzzle, but I did as he said, and he let out a sigh, filling my muzzle with bitter, salty urine. Startled, I started to gag, but then swallowed reflexively as his paws kept me from pulling away and he did nothing to stop the flow. Some of the salty water leaked from the corners of my muzzle, but I did my best to keep up with him, gulping as he let go of his bladder into my muzzle, marking me inside and out.

“That’s it, eager little pet,” my master growled as I swallowed. “Take it all.”

The salt and bitterness burned my throat and, at points, I thought I would lose control, but I managed to swallow until he was down to drops, then coughed as he withdrew his shaft from my muzzle. As in the garden in front of Miss Aura’s, thinking of what I had just done made my cheeks flush, but it only made the ache between my legs that much stronger. Just an animal, Taneh, I thought to myself, doing whatever you’re told to do.

The baron rose to his kneels, his shaft slick with my saliva and his own fluids. He wiped at the corner of my muzzle with his thumb, then clucked his tongue with a grin. “You’ve missed a bit. Ah well; that will come with practice. I can’t expect you to be perfect on the first try, merely very good.” He reached over and scratched behind my ears. “You’re such a good pet. Eager, well-trained, and responsive.”

“Thank you, master,” was all I could say. I burned from eartip to thigh, but pressing my paws together against my nethers only made the need worse. I wanted to beg for release, but I’d already said too much this morning.

My master laughed and rose from the bed, then grabbed his uniform from the wardrobe. “Fetch towels from the linen room,” he said, “then follow me to the baths. We both smell a bit too much of sex this morning for court, and I’m eager to see how you handle yourself in front of an audience.”

I rose from the bed, then froze. “Y… yes, master.”

The baron’s laughter grew, then swatted me on the rump with one paw as he grabbed a robe in the other. “That’s perfect. I’m sure Aunt Datsia won’t approve, but I’m the baron, not she. If I have my slave beside me at court, I’m quite sure everyone will be bringing theirs before long.”