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“Are you ready?” It’s a simple question, and it’s far from the first time Shiro’s asked it.
It’s adorable that he’s so concerned, but there’s no need to be. If anything, it’s Keith who should be concerned on Shiro’s behalf, not the other way around. What they’re about to do could seriously hurt Shiro if Keith isn’t careful, but Shiro’s too busy being worried about Keith to even think about that.
Keith reaches out and takes Shiro’s hands in his own. He draws Shiro around the couch and pulls him to sit down at Keith’s side, their hands folded together in Shiro’s lap.
“I am ready. I am calm. I feel good and I want to do this. You don’t have to check in on me a thousand times.”
Shiro opens his mouth to argue, and Keith silences him with a soft touch to his cheek and a tender kiss.
“Now,” Keith says, locking eyes with Shiro as he pulls back from his kiss. “Are you ready?”
Shiro smiles dotingly. “Yes.”
“You took your potion?”
“I did.”
“You’ve stretched?”
Shiro nods.
“Well?”
Shiro rolls his eyes. “Yes, Keith. I’m stretched and ready. You could roll a bowling ball down my ass and I wouldn’t feel it.”
Keith grimaces at the horrible joke, but it makes enough of an impression on him that he doesn’t question it any further.
“So…” Keith says.
“So…” Shiro agrees. “We’re doing this?”
“Looks like.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, each giving the other ample opportunity to back out.
Keith wants to offer Shiro one last chance to refuse, but he can see the excitement brewing in Shiro’s charcoal eyes. Shiro wants this. They both do.
Christ! Keith wants this so badly he feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. They’ve spent months testing, preparing, and training for this, making sure there are no flaws and no room for errors. They’re ready.
They’re ready and Keith is finally getting what he’s dreamed of from the moment he first laid eyes on Shiro.
“Ok.” Keith takes a deep breath and uses Shiro’s knees to push himself up onto his feet. They’ve already pushed the coffee table to the far side of the living room, leaving Keith plenty of room. He stands in the middle of the shag area rug and works his shoulders, loosening himself up.
He kicks his slippers off first, then pulls his shirt over his head. He has to resist the urge to make it sexy, to turn it into a show for Shiro, but he has to stay calm and focused or else it might all go to hell. He tosses his shirt to the floor, then launches his pants over the back of the couch. His underwear makes it nearly into the hallway, one sock lands in the kitchen, and the other one lands on the lampshade.
“Oops,” Keith says, looking repentant.
Shiro makes a show of rolling his eyes before he gets up and starts to pick up the scattered clothing.
“What a messy puppy you are,” he says endearingly, and it makes Keith’s stomach do a somersault.
God, he can’t wait for this.
Keith stretches again and waits until Shiro’s back is turned before he starts. It’s an ugly process, and the first few seconds really hurt. Keith hates to make Shiro watch that. So, he throws himself down to the ground quickly, concentrating on the image of the wolf he wants to become, and forcing his body into that shape.
He’s fast enough at this now that his arms are half-transformed before they even hit the rug. He takes deep breaths, trying to keep them slow and even as he concentrates on what he wants to be.
It hurts like a fucking bitch, though! Keith can’t help but roll onto his side and writhe against the shag carpet. He tries to fight the whimpering, but the pain is too much and his mind is too focused on the change to stop the pitiful noise from coming out.
It only lasts a few more seconds, and then he rolls to his stomach and lays there, panting, for a minute. Keith takes the time to run an inventory.
He feels like the right size: somewhere between a large dog and a small wolf. He’s the right shade of chocolate brown, with long, soft fur. He’s got all his legs, and a nice long tail, a working nose, and all his innards seem to be in order.
Most importantly: he’s got his mind. It's so easy to let the mindset of whatever form he chooses take over; but today is not the day to go wild. Keith wants to stay rational, he wants to be careful and attentive with Shiro, and he wants to remember this night for a long time.
“You ok, Keith?”
Shiro’s voice sounds richer and deeper in this form, and Keith can easily pick out the sour notes of worry in his voice. He can smell the anxiety on Shiro as well, even from this distance.
He turns on the rug and looks up at Shiro. Master! he thinks, and he wags his tail happily.
He jumps to his feet and moves to Shiro, tucking his head into Shiro’s lap sniffing at him like a happy puppy. Shiro’s hands move automatically to cup Keith’s head and scratch at his ears, rubbing and petting him.
“Good boy,” Shiro says. Then he gives Keith a look that means business. “Are you in the right headspace for this?”
Keith assesses himself and lets himself enter his puppy headspace. Then he nods an affirmative, giving Shiro the short bark that means ‘yes.’
It’s weird to think he has to get into a headspace at all. He is a wolf, after all. Or at least, he is one now. It is different than when he’s a human getting into his puppy headspace; this is more like keeping enough of the human in him to stop from going wild. It’s a fine line to walk, finding the perfect mix of the human and the animal: human for safety, animal for play.
It’s their first time with Keith in wolf-form, and they’re both understandably nervous and excited. A lot could go wrong, especially considering Keith’s size and the sharpness of his fangs and claws; that’s why he had Shiro drink a protective potion that will keep him from getting any unwanted cuts and bruises. They’ve taken every precaution. Now all Keith has to do is be good for Shiro and earn the reward he’s been waiting for.
After months of practicing, and training wolf-Keith to follow instructions and keep his wits about them, they’re finally ready for the big show.
“Good boy,” Shiro says again. He reaches beside him on the couch and lifts Keith’s leather collar. “Do you want this?”
Yes! Yes, Keith wants it.
To prove how much he wants it, Keith sits on the floor between Shiro’s legs, giving his best puppy eyes. Shiro smiles at the good behaviour and reaches around the massive dog to buckle the collar in place.
As soon as it’s on and Shiro is sitting back on the couch, Keith throws his front legs onto Shiro’s lap and jumps up for kisses. He coats Shiro’s neck and face with slobbery kisses, making Shiro laugh and shout. He tries to throw Keith off, but Keith just jumps back up.
Shiro tastes good. He always tastes good, but he tastes even better like this. He’s like home.
“Stop,” Shiro laughs.
Keith knows he’s not supposed to do this, he’s been trained better than this, but he’s too excited to hold back. He jumps up again and licks at Shiro’s cheeks.
“Stop,” Shiro says again, more seriously this time, pushing Keith back to the floor.
When Keith jumps back up a third time, Shiro hardly lets Keith’s paws touch his knees before he’s pushing the great big dog back down to the floor. He stands up, so that his face is out of reach, and says in a commanding tone, “Stop.”
That makes Keith stop. He stands in place and looks up at Shiro, his tail slowing to a standstill. Shiro has a new look in his eye, now, and the tone is his voice has lost all nervousness. He stands straighter, too; more commanding.
He looks like Master, now.
Keith can’t help the happy wag of his tail at the sight. He can smell the faint aroma of Shiro’s interest, warm and musky – just as excited to start as Keith is.
“Sit.”
Keith drops his hindlegs to the floor.
Shiro pulls something from his pocket and kneels down to the floor, feeling through Keith’s long fur for the collar. Then he holds up the shining metal clasp of the leash so that Keith can see it.
“You want this?”
The leash marks the start of their play. The official start. Yes, Keith wants it.
Keith whines, he wants it so much.
“I can’t hear you. Do you want this, puppy?”
Keith gives his short, affirmative bark. Shiro smiles, and with a short, metallic click, he locks the leash into place.
“Good boy,” he praises. He rubs a hand over the top of Keith’s head briefly, then stands. “Up,” he says with a light tug to the leash.
Keith surges to his feet and stands stock-still at Master’s side.
Shiro leads Keith by the leash around the far side of the couch, into the kitchen, around in the circle, and back into the living room. Keith stays close on Shiro’s side, careful not to pull at the leash and resisting the urge to herd Shiro this way and that. He lets Master lead because he is, as Master says, a “Good boy.”
He’ll do anything his Master tells him to.
Back in the living room, Shiro puts Keith through his paces.
Lay down. Sit. Stand. Roll over. Shake. Sit. Speak. Roll over. Master’s grip on the leash doesn’t falter, and he leads Keith through the commands. He moves Keith from one position to the next, keeping the leash firm enough so that no matter what, Keith feels it. No matter what, Keith knows who he belongs to.
Keith follows every one of Master’s commands, the very act of obeying spiking his blood with desire. For every command Keith does right, he is praised and rewarded with a gentle pet, further stoking his interest.
Master is pleased with him and his ability to obey. Keith knows, because Master bends down on one knee and runs his hands through the soft fur at Keith’s mouth. He presses a soft kiss on either side of Keith’s jaw. It makes Keith whine with want, and he raises one paw to touch lightly at Shiro’s arm, asking for more the only way he can.
“Not yet, puppy,” Master says. “You have to be good and earn your treat.”
The thought of Master’s treat makes Keith’s mouth water.
“Up.” Keith stands. “Up.” Keith jumps to his hindlegs and places a paw on each of Mater’s shoulders, the leash hanging slack for once. “Good.”
Master pets Keith’s chest, his fingers digging into the soft, good spot at his armpit. Keith’s tail wags double time at the touch, and his back-leg stomps lightly against the floor.
“You like that, boy?” Shiro asks. His voice lowers an octave and he digs more firmly into Keith’s fur. Keith yips and he takes a step forward, his hips starting to work the air, wanting to rub himself against Master’s leg. Master sees the movement and stops petting immediately. “Hey,” he warns. “Down.”
He tugs on the leash and Keith drops to the floor. He presses his head against Master’s leg, half in repentance, half in plea.
Shiro tugs on the leash again. “Come,” he says. He walks Keith around the couch again and down the hallway. He takes him right to the bedroom door, getting Keith’s hopes up, and then spins him around and leads him back to the living room.
Keith trots at Master’s side again, keeping perfect pace, and when they get back, Master sits on the couch and pets Keith in earnest for doing such a good job. His hands glide through Keith’s fur, petting and scratching him. His metal hand finds the spot at Keith’s hips that makes Keith’s butt wiggle. Master digs into the spot until Keith is head down, ass up, and his whole body is shaking.
Master shifts behind him, moving to the edge of the couch and Keith instinctively backs up, filling the space between them.
He can smell the arousal growing on Master and it makes him step even closer, until he’s practically sitting in Master’s lap. He can feel his Master warm between his legs; Keith warms a little more in response. He can feel himself start to unsheathe just a little.
“No,” Master says, “you don’t sit on me.” He pushes Keith forward, and jiggles the leash so Keith knows to turn around and face his Master.
He nuzzles into Shiro’s neck, and wags aggressively as Shiro pets down his sides, holding Keith close.
“Just a little bit more, puppy,” Master promises. “You’re being so good.”
Keith barks his affirmative.
“Sit.” Master pulls on the leash, making Keith move to Shiro’s left side before he sits.
“Shake.” Keith lifts his paw to Shiro’s hand and shakes it.
“Roll over.” Keith has to step away to make room before he can roll over. He almost hates to leave Shiro’s reach, but he does as he’s told because that’s what good boy’s do.
“Beg.” One of Keith’s favourite commands. He sits and presses his paws together in the ‘begging’ motion, adding a sweet little whine that never fails to make Master smile.
“Good boy.” Master’s hands pet Keith’s neck and chest, rubbing in wide circles.
“Kisses.” Keith is all too happy to cover Shiro’s neck and face with kisses. Master keeps petting him as Keith licks away contentedly. Master turns his head and Keith hones in on Master’s ear, licking the soft spot just behind it and flicking at his ear lobe with powerful strokes of his tongue.
Master pulls away suddenly, out of reach.
“Play dead.” Keith pretends to stumble, then rolls onto his back.
Once he’s down, Master’s brilliant hands follow, rubbing down Keith chest to his belly. Belly rubs are good! They’re more than good! And they get even better the lower Master strokes.
Keith’s cock is half-unsheathed by now and hanging heavy in the air. Now that he’s on his back, he can’t help the low, pitiful whine that escapes his throat. But Master ignores the whine, and the dark red cock, and focuses on rubbing Keith’s belly. He rubs lower and lower, until he’s practically gripping the base of Keith’s cock; still, he is careful not to touch.
“Who’s a good boy?” Master asks. “Yes, you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
Finally Master’s hand closes around Keith’s shining, red cock and gives it a few firm pumps, pulling back more of the sheath as he moves. “Good, good boy.”
His hand slows, “But you’ve got one more trick before your treat.”
Just like that, Master lets Keith go. Keith barks, but Master ignores it. He holds Keith’s head between his hands again and gives his puppy sweet kisses. “Almost, pup.” Then he surges to his feet.
“Up.”
Keith springs to his feet. They move around the couch and down the hall again. This time, Keith can’t contain his rush for the bedroom. He prances at Shiro’s side and tries to rush ahead.
But Master’s grip on the leash is firm. He stops dead in his tracks and doesn’t move until Keith settles and returns to his side. It’s a power move, and Master has the power. Keith learns the lesson quickly. He hangs his head and his tail and slinks to Shiro’s side.
In the bedroom, Shiro commands Keith to sit in front of the bed and “Stay.” He lays the end of the leash on the bed and sits down beside it, watching Keith.
He knows that Keith can move, no one’s holding him back, but he’s testing his pup. Will Master’s command be enough to keep the pup from moving? Keith jerks in place, wanting to move forward, but he stops himself and awaits his Master’s command.
A smile curls over Shiro’s lips, knowing the struggle Keith is going through.
With deliberate slowness, Shiro lifts his metal hand and touches at his collarbone. He circles over the soft pressure point there, then smooths his fingers down his chest inch by inch. When he reaches his hips, he grabs a fistful of his shirt and lifts it just high enough to show a nice strip of tanned skin.
Keith licks his chops in anticipation.
Then Master unbuckles his pants, making a meal out of unzipping his fly and pulling the material apart. He leans back to lift his hips enough to move the pants over the swell of his ass, leaving tight, black, bulging boxer-briefs behind.
Keith has to stop himself from moving again as he watches Master fold his pants and set them at the head of the bed. He’s drawing it out as long as he can, and Keith is actually drooling. He wants so badly to move! But Master said to stay, so he will stay.
Master takes his time peeling himself out of his underwear as well, letting his hard cock spring up and hang tantalizingly in the air in front of Keith.
The smell of arousal is sharp as a slap to the face to Keith’s wolf-nose. It’s distinctly Shiro, and it makes Keith whine with need. He needs to taste it. Now!
He shuffles closer, just a fraction of an inch, hoping his Master won’t see; but, of course, Shiro does. He fixes a sharp look at Keith, as if daring the pup to move any closer.
As punishment, Shiro leans back on an elbow and takes his fat cock in his hand. He keeps eye contact with Keith as he pumps himself slow and tight. The smell of arousal grows thicker, and Keith can even smell the drop of precum that Shiro wipes away with a thumb.
Delicious.
Master stretches his legs so that he’s almost doing a splits at the edge of the bed and Keith can see the black base of the butt plug nestled between Master’s cheeks. Keith gives a low “ruff” of approval.
“Like that, puppy?” Shiro asks. He gives himself another pump and then reaches down to touch the plug. It’s the fattest one they could find, and the only thing big enough to keep Shiro stretched enough to take Keith’s knot. “This is only for good puppies who listen to their Master.”
Shiro swivels the plug inside him and hums a long, low moan in response. His head tilts back and he does it again and again.
Were Keith in human form right now, he’d be sweating bullets, but as it is, he is panting so hard his chest almost hurts, and pooling drool on the bedroom floor.
There’s a wet plopping noise and an overpowering scent of lube, and then Master lifts the plug to the head of the bed and leaves it with his clothes. His hole is wide and loose, and his fingers circle it slowly twice.
Then Master’s hand sneaks over to Keith’s leash.
“Com’ere.” He tugs on the leash.
Keith dives forward, his tongue out and lapping at Master’s cock like an ice cream cone. Master groans with relief and fists the sheets, holding Keith’s leash tight so Keith can’t turn away.
Keith lifts his front paws up to get better leverage, covering over Shiro’s thighs.
Master is tasty, and very easily Keith’s favourite meal. He’s salty and delicious, his precum adding a dimension of taste Keith’s human tongue can’t detect.
Keith licks his Master with a frantic need, working his way lower and lower until he buries his snout between Master’s cheeks and licks a strip over his sloppy, wet hole. The ring of muscle gives way easily. It’s simple as anything for Keith to press in with his long tongue and tease at Shiro’s walls.
Shiro moans and writhes as Keith plunges deeper and deeper with his tongue, searching for the place that will make Master scream. But Shiro pulls on his leash before Keith can find that magic spot. He keeps licking Shiro as he follows the pull of the leash, dragging his tongue across Shiro’s taint and balls.
“Here, puppy,” Master says, holding the leash tight so that Keith’s snout is flush with Master’s cock. “Right here.”
Keith laps at Master with long, powerful strokes, then laps lightly at the head, collecting all of the delicious precum Master spills for him.
Master pulls a little tighter on the leash, leading Keith up higher. Keith pushes Master’s cock with his muzzle until it is pressed tight against Master’s stomach and he licks and licks and licks at the head.
Around him, Master’s legs start to twitch. He babbles praise that doesn’t make sense in any language, but Keith understands. Keith knows what a good boy he’s being.
Then Master says the worst thing he could possibly say.
“Stop.” He accompanies the command with a sharp pull on the leash to make sure Keith gets the message.
Keith does. He stops what he’s doing immediately, his head still hovering centimeters over his Master’s erection, and his tongue hanging out, ready to lap away all of Shiro’s worries.
“Up.”
Keith launches himself onto the bed, careful not to step on Shiro, and immediately lowers himself to rut his erection against Master’s stomach, whining, and yipping, and licking at Master’s face. Shiro laughs at Keith’s antics despite himself and buries his fingers into Keith’s fur.
“Careful, careful. Wait, puppy!” Master laughs, “Slow down.”
Keith doesn’t slow. The slide of his hard cock against Master’s body is too good to resist and he can’t help the piston power of his hips now that there’s something warm and firm to rub against. He shifts himself down the bed just a little and lines his cock up with Master’s.
“Keith!” Master cries in pure ecstasy. He grips fistfuls of Keith’s fur and holds on for dear life as Keith thrusts hard and fast against him. Keith can hear Master’s heart pumping rapidly and smell the satisfaction rolling off him in waves. He lowers more of his weight onto Master so that the drag is heavier.
Master moans and bucks against Keith; but he only lets Keith do as he likes for a moment before the leash is pulled tight once more and Keith gets another firm “Stop.”
“Up,” Master says again, but this time Keith doesn’t understand. He’s already as ‘up’ as he can get (pun fully intended). “Up,” he repeats. Then, “Stand.”
Keith stands. He hates to do it, but his need to obey overrides everything else. Beneath him, Master scoots around until he is on his stomach, and then he lifts himself up onto his knees so that his back is flush with Keith’s stomach.
Once again, Keith can’t help but rock against Master’s body heat. “Stay,” Master commands and Keith’s body locks in place. Master reaches back and takes Keith’s cock in hand, lining himself up with the pointed tip.
It’s exquisite torture not to thrust hard and deep into Master’s wet, waiting orifice. Keith shakes with excitement and anticipation as Master pushes Keith’s tip into his hole.
“Stay. Good boy,” Master repeats, making sure Keith stays still.
Shiro rocks his hips and takes a little more of Keith’s huge cock, groaning at the delicious stretch. Keith can hardly bear the tight grip of his Master around him. He can feel the pulse of blood surging through the tight ring of muscle that encloses the tip of his cock. It’s so hot. It’s wet and perfect.
Master eases himself back a little more, then pulls away and starts to slowly fuck himself just with Keith’s tip.
“Good boy. So perfect. Oh, Keith, you’re so good for your Master. Stay. Stay just like that. Oh yes,” Shiro praises as he works himself backwards.
Ever so slowly, Master works his way until he is seated over Keith’s entire cock. Keith is absolutely huge – there’s no way Master could take him without the potion he drank earlier, and he hasn’t even taken Keith’s knot yet.
Keith yips when his Master finally takes his full length. Master squeezes and clenches around him, holding him tight. He reaches up and pets Keith’s face, his fingers scratching just below the wolf’s ear.
He moves without warning. He pulls forward until Keith almost falls out of him and then pushes himself back over Keith’s full length in one swift motion.
Keith howls.
“You like that, Puppy?” Shiro asks and then he does it again. And again.
He pulls Keith’s leash and tilts his cheek: a cue for kisses that Keith is only too happy to oblige.
“Love this,” Master murmurs, touching softly along Keith’s jaw.
He moves over Keith’s cock more easily now, and his breath is hot and steaming against Keith’s muzzle as his pleasure starts to build.
“Fuck me.”
It’s Keith’s favourite command by far, and he follows it with unbridled enthusiasm. His back paws dig into the blankets beneath them and he slams his hips forward with a speed and strength only a wolf can achieve.
Master makes a hoarse, wrecked noise with each thrust.
Keith takes over from here, slamming himself forward into the tight, wet heat of his Master. He howls as he plunges into his Master. He’s setting a brutal pace that leaves his Master gasping for breath beneath him.
Master is the one with his head down, ass up now. His fists cling to the blanket like that’s the only thing keeping him together. He sounds like he tries to speak several times, but the most coherent thing Keith can hear is “good.” Keith accepts the praise just the same and uses it to fuel his passions.
Keith lowers his head and nips at Shiro’s cheek, nuzzling against him as his hips move with a mind of their own.
Master makes a howling noise when Keith’s knot starts to thicken and pluck at his rim. Keith barks a happy agreement and shifts his grip on the bed. He fucks even harder into Master, plugging him full with every thrust, then slipping out with a sick popping noise. His knot grows and grows and at this point Keith just has to trust that the potion is working, because he cannot stop.
He could be shot dead right here, and still he wouldn’t stop. His body would keep fucking his Master until they were locked together eternally.
Master howls again, and suddenly he pulses tight around Keith. The smell of semen hits Keith’s nose a moment later, and he knows he’s pleased Master perfectly.
A wave of possessive need overtakes Keith and he bites down on his Master’s shoulder, between the metal of the prosthesis and the meat of his neck. Keith growls as he slams into Shiro one final time and unloads into that tight, hot space.
Beneath him, Master goes limp. Once Keith’s orgasm rolls to a stop, he settles down over his Master, keeping Shiro warm and safe beneath him.
Shiro twists around just enough to run his hands through Keith’s soft fur – made extra soft just for Shiro, just for this moment. Keith pants happily in Shiro’s ear and covers his cheek in kisses.
“That was incredible,” Shiro murmurs. His voice sounds heavy with exhaustion.
Keith makes a soft noise in agreement. Then he spots the line of red teeth marks along Shiro’s shoulder. He noses at them and makes a small noise that’s part question and part apology.
“Hmm?” Shiro drops his hand to feel the bitemark. “Don’t worry. The potion definitely worked, or else I think you would have wrecked me. It was good, though. So good.” He reaches back into Keith’s fur and fumbles with the leash, unhooking it and holding it up for Keith to see before he drops it to the bed. It signals the end of their play, and the beginning of their aftercare.
Keith doesn’t know who needs the aftercare more, him or Shiro; and he’s got about a thousand questions that he can’t ask until he’s back in his human form. For now, he focuses on Shiro, grooming his mate with his tongue as he waits for his knot to go down.
“Mmm,” Shiro hums and wiggles his entire body, shaking the knot in a way that makes Keith give another weak spurt of cum. “I really love this,” Shiro says, sincerely. “But maybe next time you could be a lion?”