After the pack doctor had looked her over, Flare carted his new slave back to his den. He hadn’t spent a great deal of time at home lately. He’d been chasing around the rogue lands in search of prey. As a result, the den was cold, and a little musky. His coats needed a good airing out. At least he had a few spares stacked in the corner now. One good thing about all the hunting he had done - even after giving the majority to the pack, there had still been plenty left over.

He moved into the space, and slumped down on one of the soft sheep coats. “Food, and give this place a clean up.” was his very nice request to the lady. Who had just finished benign poked and prodded over by the healer, and before that dragged across two territory. Before that, had been terrorised by yours truly…


"Speech"

Demelza clung to the ground as she walked, her body trembling with exhaustion. Poked, prodded, violated, sore, hungry, thirsty and tired she followed her new master to his musty den. Her green eyes flitted about through heavy lids to every corner of the den, absorbing everything she could possibly do to ensure she could be as proactive as possible.

But she was stumped when he called for food, her own mouth started salivating at the very idea.

Her brain was foggy from the trauma and just wanted to rest. She stumbled to the corner that looked like it had food, it smelled like food, it felt like stored food. She grabbed a pelt and brought it to him, her head low. She swayed as she placed the fur before him. She was falling asleep on her feet. She hadn’t slept since before he found her in the woods.

He blinked as she brought him… a pelt, from the somewhere fresh hunting pile. He rolled his eyes at her meek, exhausted face. He had wanted a chance to nap. He intended to challenge for his rank tomorrow. Before that, he needed to be rested and fed. If his useless slave couldn't complete the most basic tasks, he'd find other uses for her.

He snapped a paw out. A well seasoned fighter, he moved quickly and efficiently. The blow landed on her shoulder in just the right place to dislocate and not break the limb. Perhaps the pain would help wake her up a little. He made no offer to help put it back into place. “In the back of the den, the small celler to keep it cold. Obviously. Prepare me a stew.” It would take longer, but she clearly still did not understand her place.”You are an embarrassment and a disgrace. If I have to hold you paw to get you to understand basic tasks again, I'll hang you from the ceiling by one back paw and leave you to sleep there” sure, it would probably break the limb and leave her sniffing all night. But one rough night for him would likely fix her idiocy.

She yipped, before she could catch it. He struck her and as the tears welled up in her eyes she realized how cruel the world could truly be. Her father had thrown her once, her brother had hit her, but none of them had the training or strength to dislocate her shoulder with one savage blow. Her shoulder was dislocated. Not hard to do when her joints were so easily seen through her fragile skin and gaunt appearance. It had been so fast and sharp she hadn’t even realized he had moved.

She was awake now. She slithered w outh difficulty to the back of the den to the cold storage and grabbed a good amount of meat and enough to make a stew.

She fumbled with making the fire. She knew how to but her paws were so sore from the traveling. Finally after several fumbling attempts it was started and the stew was put together. It would take a while. She averted her eyes as she worked. She knew better than to look for a way out now. She wouldn’t have a chance to escape until he left the den… no… she wouldn’t have a chance to escape even if he left the den. The bodies at the border were probably slaves that attempted to escape, or no longer could fulfill their use. She needed to let all thoughts of escape go. This would be her life now. A servant. Maybe if she was a good one he won’t hurt her… much. She had a feeling he would kill her before he thought about selling her. It was this or worse. She maintained she could at least make it less worse.

While the stew cooked she tried to tidy things up. She grabbed a musty rug and began dragging it out of the den to air it out, hobbling as she did. She fumbled and tripped, crumpling into the old fur she stifled a whine as she gasped from the pain. She struggled to get up and her body sluggishly responded.

Finally She seemed to understand. She didn’t say a word, but for the surprised yip, and then she was doing as she was told. She grabbed the meat from storage, and set about making a fire while he watched from his soft sheepskin. He had kept a small variety from each animal he had killed, so there was a decent supply in his den for the moment. He rested his head on his paws, watching her work.

She looked a little pale, and was shaking a little as she worked. But she didn’t complain of the pain despite working with a dislocated shoulder. The silence and compliance was satisfying, and he decided to reward it.

Especially when she stumbled. He wasn’t counting it as a failure on her part, not this time. He wanted her to be in working order, even as she understood compliance. He clicked a few claws together. “Come.” He ordered, and waited until she had done so. When she was in range, he got to his paws, he pulled her into his grasp, resting her dislocated shoulder on his. Mm, she smelled good despite not being in season. Good, despite the layer of dust and misuse in her coat. He steadied her in his grasp, and wrenched her shoulder in one sudden motion. Popping it back into place. He leaned into her shuddering body, and breathed in against the crook of her neck. Mmm. He shoved her lightly away. “Stew. Bowls for both of us.” He ordered.


"Speech"

"Speech"

She shuddered against the pain as she got up to continue her attempt at pulling the rug out. That was until he clicked his claws together and bid her to come nearer to him. Was he going to punish her for stumbling? She quickly hobbled toward him, her gaze to the floor. Suddenly he was embracing her and she did her best to be placid and flexible in his arms. Ready to satisfy whatever whims he deems necessary of her. To her surprise, he set her shoulder against his frame and wrenched her shoulder back in. She jolted with a gasp and her body shuddered into him uncontrollably. She felt him breathe into her neck and then caught herself on the floor as she was gently pushed away. She tested her leg on the floor, and it held. It was somewhat sore but considerably a lot less painful than before. To show her gratitude she quickly set about tending the stew. It was plain, it could do with some flavorful herbs in it, but it was good enough for now.

She spooned some into a bowl for him, then some for herself. Her mouth salivating enough to drip accidentally from her lip.

She gave the bowl to him and waited for him to either allow her to eat or let him eat first. She hadn't been taught that but she wondered if it was something he wanted of her.

Already she was changing. Malleable as putty after a few good twists. She definitely had a good foundation. A pretty little thing, already accustomed to abuse. She just needed a little push here and there, and she would become the perfect slave. She would, eventually, be a mark of his rank. The perfect, suitable slave. Proof that he could mould a wolf to his whims, and that he was worthy of severance. In truth, he had never had a slave before. He would never let this one go.

She finished the stew, and handed him a bowl. He could hear her tummy growling beneath her skin, and the saliva growing on her tongue. She was starving. He took the bowl, and dug in. Eating it with sounds of enjoyment. She might consider it unflavoured, but he wasn’t accustomed to anything better. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, ready to lash out if she moved towards the food in front of her. Food whose scent drifted to her, and grew cold as she waited. At last, he licked the bottom of his bowl, and tossed it lightly to the side. “Eat” He ordered her. “When you're done, finish cleaning the den and then join me in my bed.” He turned from her, but his fox watched her carefully. Would she quail at such a request? Or was she already utterly compliant to anything he wished.


"Speech"

"Speech"

She kept her eyes on the bowl as he ate. A long drip of drool escaped her lips as the scent wafted toward her. She licked her lips to keep from anymore drooling out. How embarrassing. Her tongue slid against her teeth as she tried to wait as patiently as she could. She didn't have the luxury of impatience, she never had.

Finally came his command to eat. Hungrily she dived into the bowl, her blind hunger nearly drowning out his next words but she paused mid-meal to listen to the rest of his demand. She clenched her eyes shut at the implications of the last part.

She swallowed and ate her meal at a slightly slower pace. Letting the meat and stew settle in her fragile stomach. She hoped the amount wouldn't make her sick for the... activities... later.

She took the bowls, washed them, and put them away. She diligently went to work clearing and tidying the room, taking out the old musty furs to be aired out and setting the fresh ones about the room. She looked at her Master's fox with a curious look, as if inviting him to follow her on her task.

Demelza was an herbalist, and she was determined to show her new master her skills in cleaning and freshening up his space. She had seen the fragrant herbs on the way in, a little fireweed, a little saint johns wort, a little white sage. She didn't have to be go very far from his den and his fox was determined to make sure she didn't go far. And he had that bird of his too.

She brought a bundle of them into the den and hung them up to dry. They started to infuse the den with a soft fresh herbal scent that wasn't there before.

She looked around, she couldn't figure out what else to do. She swallowed and gathered herself up.

She approached the bed and stood at it for a moment. Then carefully lifted up a dainty paw to test the softness. Then Demelza shakily joined him in the plush sheepskin, her tiny frame settling next to his massive direwolf stature.

pp of fox given by Sea

Flare stretched out on the sheepskin with some satisfaction. He hadn’t expected to get such a catch while he was out hunting, but she had a wonderful addition to his trophies. The hunter had a collection of horns, teeth, and an elephant’s tusk lying on a table in the corner of the room. He hadn’t had a chance to hang them yet, his preparations had left him too busy.

He closed his eyes, and after a while the scent of fresh herbs caught his sensors. Exhaustion seeped in, his long days and longer hunts catching up to him. By the time Demzela’s paws touched the sheepskin, his breathing had evened out, and a soft snore escaped his muzzle. The Ghazi was fast asleep.


"Speech"

"Speech"

As she settled in next to him, she found that her master was asleep. She waited for a few breaths and felt her body begin to relax. Her muscles twitching from the exhaustion of the last few days and especially the last few hours. Slowly, somewhat fitfully, her body finally succumbed to sleep. The sheep's skin was softer than anything she had slept on before. And the warm body next to her was more than she had ever slept with. She slept like the dead, her stomach full, her body comfortable, sore, and bruised, ready to recover.

---
Several hours later, she woke with a start. The surroundings were strange and unknown for a few moments until she remembered all that had transpired before she fell asleep. The bruising in the small of her back made her stiff and her shoulder had stiffened with inflammation. Achily she slowly crawled out of the bed. He had told her duties where to start before he woke in the mornings. So might as well start now. First some tea, then get a pot going of more stew. She invited Fox again, though she knew he'd follow her anyway while she gathered some more herbs. She grabbed some dandelion and plantain for her tea and some fresh sjw blossoms. As well as a few leaves of sage for the stew. It was easy to add and would bring the flavor of the meats forward.

As she moved about, her shoulder loosened up. But the pain in her back was still present. She looked out of the den wistfully as the tea was set aside to steep and she was about to set up a fresh pot of stew. She'd like to find out more about the herbs around this place. She quietly gasped and brought her attention back to the fire and pot as she heard her new Master stir himself awake.

Flare hadn’t intended to fall asleep so easily. He woke feeling a little stiff himself, having slept soundlessly through the night. His eyes glanced at his slave, who sat by the fire, preparing something for his breakfast. Had she followed his command to sleep beside him? He hadn’t intended for sleeping to be the plan. A part of him wished to blame her, she had taken too long to clean out the den. She had delayed.

He clicked his claws together once more, his clear signal for her to move to him immediately. But since he was still training, and she could be stupid, he followed it with a command. ”Come.” He said. Breakfast would probably burn, but he could punish her for that later. He waited for her to trot over to him, and he lay back down. The sheepskin beneath his back. “Here.” He ordered her, pointing to his stomach, an indication for her to lie on him. He didn’t even manhandle her, he forced her to make herself move to him.

"Speech"

"Speech"

Her ears pricked as he clicked his claws together like he did before. He declared her come to him. She glanced at the pot. She glanced at the tea. She glanced back at him and perhaps too hesitantly and slowly approached him. He ordered her... to his stomach. Was he serious - Of course, he was serious... she swallowed and didn't give it another thought. Carefully and gracefully she tiptoed back onto the bed, her quaint paws finding purchase between the bed and his side. She glanced at his face to see if she was doing it right. She placed her paw softly where he indicated before, her gaze flitting up to his face and back to his stomach. Did he wish for her to message him? She had a feeling he wished to lay with her, but this position was new.

She moved slowly, a very small defiance. But she came. He could hear the pot she had set on bubbling somewhere behind them, but his attention was on Demelza now. Once again, he could catch the scent of her. That subtle flavour beneath her fur. She slowly moved onto the bed, her motion surprisingly graceful for all her aches. She rested beside him, and placed her paw on his stomach. He narrowed his eyes at her. Disobedience, or confusion?

He slipped a paw under her, and tumbled her on top of him, so her small frame rested on his stomach. He breathed in deeply, catching a hint of fear in the perfume of her body. His silver eyes were like multan led as heat stirred inside of him. It had been so long since he had been with anyone. And voluntarily had happened so infrequently for him. He had been taken as a Pretty Boy, after all. He raised a paw and pressed it gently to her forehead, where the cuts he and his bird had laid on her skin were still healing. He drifted his paw down her chin to the tip of her muzzle, and then down her throat. She was so delicate, so small. She would be so easy to break. “Do you know what to do?” He asked her, voice soft and husky.


"Speech"

"Speech"

His molten eyes were on her and then she was tumbled on top of him. Her breath caught in her throat as she was splayed on his stomach. She wasn't at all used to this pose, or these directions but she was definitely getting the gist.

She restrained from flinching but couldn't help her eyes close tightly as he reached up and pressed on the wound over her eye. A subtle warning she would remember. A threat that if she didn't do what he wanted he could easily break her in.
Her ear flickered back to the pot over the fire then back to him as his paw drifted down her cheek. She couldn't help the subtle heated gasp as his paw wandered over her nose and throat.

He asked her if she knew what to do. The growing heat that stirred and bid her body respond was enough for her to know. But she had never had this type of control over it. She shifted her hips down his to rub her womanhood over him, and suddenly her back twinged and she flinched. Her face scrunched in pain, but she tried again, her limbs shook as the bruise in her back twinged and her shoulder trembled from the pain. She closed her eyes and held herself over him, trying to rub her tender spot over the heated tip of him enough for him to enter her.

X rated:

The scent of arousal from her was unexpected, and he gave a soft rumble as she shifted down his body. He pushed up against her, his own body responding to the feel of her hips on him. He felt her move over him, awakened and hard. He started to push against her, and suddenly she flinched. She trembled, and he thought she would falter. He wrapped his forelegs around her body, pulling her onto him. He groaned at the sensation as he entered her body. There was a notable size difference between them, but he gave her no room to pull away.

He thrust into her, but the speed wasn’t satisfying, and he pulled her free, panting with desire as he pulled her under him this time. His large frame over hers as he started again, pushing inside of her with some effort. Controlling the movements more easily now, he drove into her again and again, his teeth grazing her shoulder as he shuddered with desire.


"Speech"

"Speech"

His arms came up around her, and brought Demelza down onto him, forcefully he entered her. She gasped at the pain, while he groaned. She stretched around him with a pitiful noise she wasn't able to stifle. He didn't want her pitiful whining or sniveling. She arched and gasped as he brought them together again, she felt so small!! She swore she felt him in her lungs!

Suddenly she was free and he was rolling her beneath him, she could feel his hot breath on her fur as he panted. He stood over her and rushed inside of her again. Her paws came up to brace against him as she reeled from his intrusion. She struggled to breathe as he upped the tempo within her, heedless of the tears alighting to the corners of her eyes. The depraved beast above her shamelessly pounded her and she did everything she could to keep herself from thrashing away from him. She winced in pain every time her back convulsively arched for him, her hips tilting for him against her will.

"M-Master-", She gasped, "Please... it hurts!" she cried weakly into his sordid ear, his teeth brushing over her fur.

The pot was boiling over the fire, there was a hiss of steam as some water splashed out.

X rated:

He nipped her muzzle with his fangs in a silent scolding, but lost as he was in the pleasure of driving into her he misjudged, and scraped his sharp fangs down her snout, scouring marks that welled subtly. He licked clean the wound without stopping until he was shuddering and gasping, and arching into her. Spent, he collapsed on her small frame with a satisfied sigh. He paid no heed to the amount of muscle and weight he pushed down on top of her, nor if her muzzle was free to gasp in air.

He writhed inside of her another few moments, and then dragged himself free and rolled over. Freeing her. The pot was well hissing now as water hit the flames from the bubbling substance. “Deal with that, won't you.” He growled, though his growl had a little less bite to it. He was feeling rather good.


"Speech"

"Speech"

For her pleas for mercy, he scraped her muzzle with one of his monstrous fangs. An accident as he drove within her. She was silent for the rest, as well as she could be. Small noises came unbidden as she gasped and winced and arched into him while he used her for his pleasure alone. His licking her wound gave her what small kindness it could and it was what she would take from him.

Then he arched and gasped, spilling himself deep within her before collapsing his great weight on top of her. She squirmed and wriggled just enough to bring her nose up for air as he sighed. But such was his weight she couldn't gather enough of a breath. Her face contorted briefly with disgust as she felt him writhe within her some more before he dragged himself off her.

She nearly leaped away from the bed with a gasp as she caught her breath while taking the pot off the flames. There was still enough substance within it to have the stew be thick and the meat tender. The space between her thighs ached as she ladled the stew into bowls for their breakfast. She was still trembling as she pushed the bowl toward him and placed her bowl before herself. She wanted to wrap herself in one of these furs and hide away from everything.

He got himself slowly to his paws, and slipped out of the den to see to some morning business. He cleaned himself up in a stream, and made his way back to the den. He expected breakfast to be ready by now, and his obedient, meek slave was indeed ready with a bowl to push towards him. He took it and ate hungrily. It was a little burnt in places, but she had been punished enough for the moment.

Once again, once his bowl was finished he gave her the command to eat her own and went about the den to grab his armor pieces. He deposited it on one of the small tables. One she would be able to reach easily enough. “Later this morning I will be challenging for a rank much higher in this pack. I expect these to be cleaned and polished to perfection before then.”


"Speech"

"Speech"

She watched her meal cool as she heard him eat behind her. He ate noisily, the sounds of his eating grated against her ears. It was disgusting. Whether it was true or her perception she was struggling to think kindly about him at all. Finally, he was done and let her eat. She was grateful he at least let her eat.

She was done by the time he placed his armor pieces for her to clean on the table. She listened with her ears but her eyes clung to the floor, briefly looking up to the armor pieces to confirm where they were.

She hoped he would lose.

She nodded that she understood her assignment. Clean and polish the armor like a good little slave. She tidied their breakfast and sipped the tea she had made for herself. She decided she needed to stock up on some lady's lace somehow. In case the doctor's sterilization wouldn't hold. She didn't want to carry this bastard's progeny if she could help it.

Silently she started cleaning the armor for him. Scrubbing the pieces to her level of satisfaction of perfection. She wouldn't leave a job half finished or poorly done. If it was the only pleasure she would get in this life, then so be it.