"You want me to do what?"

Lady Helskath, castle steward, well respected if not loved, had the experience to duck before the horn flagon splintered on the stone behind them.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid!? Cut his duties, he’s not one of your gutter rubbish, he is mine! He will be tended to, and he will be kept alive until I return!"

The queen’s tirade had her tuck her tail in flight, leaving the monarch alone with her captains. They watched her carefully, knowing a furious Helti could be a swift end to anyone incautious enough to tempt her. Often she was content in her small cruelties and drink, but today she was angry, she was loud, and she had the blood of three wolves on her claws.

"I don't care what you’ve heard," she said, glaring at them, "you all know what happens to anyone who crosses me. They took what was not theirs, what was mine, death was too quick. Now get me my plans for the next raid."

She sat at the head of the table, leaning on her fist, growling as she glared at the maps spread out before her. She was in no mood to explain her actions, to deal with repercussions. She was determined to see her forces moving and quit the castle before she killed someone else, or started becoming some cooing, burbling mothering type. It wasn't in her nature, and she didn't like it, she felt it was weakness. So she pushed such aberrant thoughts away, hoping they would fade, or be drowned out in battle.

She looked over the maps, noting where her people had plundered plenty in recent years, and where time enough might have passed for their prey to have forgotten what was coming for them. She would start small, perhaps a border town or two, see how the troops fared. If they did well, she would lead them inland, and teach the southerners what it meant to cross the wolf queen.

***

Linden whimpered softly, his eyes half closed and flickering. The sun was out, it was warm, and he was sick. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't, his body was wracked with pain and his mind was muddled.

He heard her voice, calling out to him, but he couldn't answer. He was tired, so very tired. He could feel her paws on his face, but he didn't react. Not even when she turned him onto his back and pressed cold cloth to his eyes, leaving him blinking away water as the most perfect face was haloed above him in the midday light.

"Wake up now, my little prince."

The voice was soft, sweet, and carried to him from a dream of better times. The musical tone, the way it moved from high to low like rolling hills, he knew it well, it was not the voice of a wolf.

"Wella?" He mumbled, groaning. He felt her touch his cheek, the gentle pads of her fingers tracing his face, or was that a dream?

"Shh, don't try to talk. You need to rest."

Her words sounded true, but the pup on the bed needed to know, paws reaching out for her, trying to grab her fur. And the angelic figure obliged, taking him in her arms.

"It's alright, I'm here. You're safe."

The former prince clung tight, burying his face in her chest, shaking not just with fever, but with a troubled heart, fearing another abrupt departure. "Please, please don't go. Don't leave me again. Please, please, please."

She shushed him, rocked him, let him pour out the river of worries he always had for her, then settled him back to the bed. She had a small smile as she stood and saw to her work, it was not one of happiness but perhaps a guilty sense of vindication. She had known the boy would never have been able to survive without her, and now the bitch queen was finally beginning to see that too.

***

Linden woke to find his nurse standing over him. She smiled at him, and he wanted to smile back. But he couldn't. He felt an empty pang in his chest. She was not his nurse anymore, thralls didn't get nurses, this must be a dream and he must finally be dying.

But the apparition persisted, proffering a cup to his lips. The cool water soothed the burning that was clawing of his stomach. He closed his eyes, just breathing, feeling her presence close by, smelling her scent, familiar and comforting, it brought him peace, he wanted to stay in the moment forever, to stay with her.

"You have a nasty fever, and plenty of bruises. But don't worry, I'll be here to take care of you again," the vixen assured, turning away to fuss about the various oddities he had yet to notice.

"The castle leech came by earlier, and brought everything we need to get you back on your paws," she said in that sing-song tone, tail waving as she set to work. "And the kitchen has sent chicken broth with the blood to build you up, and the sweet wine from the cellars. We have quite the feast here, my little prince."

He watched her, looking at the items she'd lined up on the table. There were cloths and salves, bandages and oils, some herbs and other things he didn't recognise. She was smiling, and he could hear the pleasure in her voice.

"I'm happy to see you," he said, his voice weak, but still earning him a grin in return.

"That's good to hear, I was worried you wouldn’t want me after what I said."

He frowned, head boiling, muddling his thoughts. "No… I don't blame you, I can't blame you. I don't… I don't like that you lied… but I wanted you to be happy, because you make me happy. You must hate me, if I hadn't been born you'd never have been a slave… you'd have… you'd have your family, and your children, and, and-"

She shushed him, putting a delicate digit to his lips. Smiling wide as she felt already her control of him resume. Her little captive prince, prince no more, but still the window to a better life, and a dagger for his bitch mother's heart. "Hush, hush now, you're still sick. It's alright, don't think about it. It's all in the past now."

He sighed, closing his eyes, lying back, leaving Wella to her business of surveying the queen's quarters under the guise of making ready to treat and tend him. It was with glee she ran her paws over fine wood furnishings, and disgust as she beheld the stolen tapestries and banners from southern nations. Here she was, in the wolf's den, the nest of the bitch queen herself. The twisted smile on her face would worry any who saw it, but the only one who could was lost in fever dreams.

The servants came and went as they were bid, and they all bowed before her as they would a true servant of the queen. It was a point of pride to her, even as a thrall she had manoeuvred herself to be treated like a free woman, even if it was an illusion as fragile as the spring ice. And if she wanted to keep it…

"Alright, I think it’s time we made you better, don’t you?” She cooed and crooned, picking up the tincture for his head and the paste for his injuries. "Don't sleep through this one, you've got to stay awake until it takes effect."

He groaned, looking at her, but didn't speak, simply letting her take his chin and gave it a gentle tug, a suggestion of instruction, letting her pour down the bitter liquid to a grimace and shudder.

"Good boy," she said, rubbing his throat. Next she set to work cleaning away the fresh scabs and seepage from where the fur had matted, applying salve to his wounds and bandaging them as he lay there, eyes closed, breathing slowly, watching the world go by.

"There, almost done, just one more spot. Roll over for me now," came the innocent sounding instruction from such a trusted person that he obeyed without thought, rolling onto his front, feeling her paws on his tail, and a burning sensation as she applied a paste to the brand on his rear.

"Such a poor boy," she said, "with such a pretty bottom. Don't you worry, I'll make sure you have all the time to heal. The queen would never forgive me if I didn't take good care of you."

He whimpered, biting his lip, his rear was a paradox of fire and ice. She was rubbing ointment along the lines of his mother's name and the marks of slavery. They were well and puckered pink, where they weren't scabrous, never having been allowed to fully heal after they were seared in. Wella counted herself lucky that her own brands were somewhere far less sensitive; another evil of the wolves to burn him where they did.

"It's alright," she said, "it'll feel better soon."

"I know," he whispered, eyes closed, trusting, letting her touch him, do what she willed, oblivious to what else she could possibly intend.

"There's just one spot left, my prince, but you'll need to be brave for me. Strong and brave, like a prince should be." Her tone was playful, and it almost carried away all his fears as her fingers moved from his often beaten rear, to the gap between his cheeks.

Having already wiped him down once, she had seen all that had befallen her charge. The stink of wolf seed confirmed what she saw of his ravaged opening, just as they'd done to her when she was first captured. Typical of the males, desperate to prove their superiority in so primal and filthy a fashion, perhaps to court whichever bitch might be watching in a show of dominance.

"Relax," she pressed the cold salve against his abused ring, watching as he flinched at the touch. "Shh, shh," she hushed him, rubbing his tail, "it's alright. I'll be gentle."

With an effort of will, he relaxed a little, gritting his teeth as she worked the salve into his abused orifice. It stung, but the pain was far less than what had injured him. He tried to hold back the tears, but he couldn't. The salve was cold, and needed to be smeared across the wound, requiring her digit to squirm and work and sink deeper, inside.

"Easy there," she said, pressing her free paw to his shoulder. "Almost done, then you can rest."

A whine escaped his lips, no matter how brave he tried to be. Cold digits dug deep in his injured orifice, pressing and stretching, slathering stinging unguent. Now she was the conquering warrior, with a wolf at her mercy, the thought made her smile, but she had no intention of making this too much worse for the boy than it had to be. She felt him clench around her finger, and she could see the tears falling from his eyes. He was in pain, but hopefully not too much pain, she was enjoying this twist to her life, and didn't want it spoilt by any sudden upwelling of conscience.

"There, all done," she said, licking his tears away as her claws withdrew. "How do you feel now?"

He smiled, a soft, sweet smile that warmed her heart. He looked so adorable, so vulnerable, so utterly grateful for even that fraction of affection she could summon up, it made the toying so much more worthwhile.

"Better," he whispered, nuzzling her paw.

She giggled, ruffling his ears, stroking his fur. "You can sleep if you want, I'll be here when you wake up."

He nodded, settling back onto his side, curling up, falling asleep in seconds.

She watched his supine form, digesting the experience a moment more. He looked so peaceful, so gentle, so vulnerable. And he was hers, her possession, her toy, her plaything, just like before. But this time, she'd need to be careful, his mother would be watching, and if she learned what Wella intended, then there would be nothing to save her from the hangman's noose.

***

Luna growled, pacing back and forth, feeling her blood boil in her veins. She had been asked to wait. Her! While that vixen bitch was tending to her property, inside her chambers! The indignity! She wanted to scream, to rage, to tear something apart with her teeth!

But she couldn't. She had to sit, and wait, and listen. They were in there, the fox and her little whor- son, she corrected herself. If it were not for the turmoil in her head she would have smashed that bitch’s muzzle to powder the second she suggested it. But then he'd see that, and she'd never hear the end of it for as long as he lived.

Barely in time to interrupt her burning fuse, the door opened and the hated vixen presented herself as the very image of a devoted servant. She bowed and scraped, and pushed the heavy oak wide for her queen.

Luna didn't comment, just stormed into the room, ignoring the vixen entirely as she closed the door behind her.

Her chambers were warmer than she liked it, something she’d been raised to see as foppish weakness. But she buried the rebuke that rose on rote, as she turned her eye to the only thing she cared to see. In her bed, but conscious and clean, her son watched carefully with the wary gaze of a hare before a hunter.

"Boy… Linden, you look better," she stated, stiffly and uncertain, uncomfortable in both her position and the compliment.

He nodded, sitting up gingerly. She could see the tension in him, the fear in his eyes, and she knew she wasn't welcome.

"Thank you, your majesty," he said, his voice soft and hoarse.

Deciding to be deaf to the clear rebuke, the disdain, the bitter hate in that refrain, she settled on the edge of the bed, and pressed a hand to his nose before he could react.

"Your fever's better," she removed the fingers and pressed on in case he found enough voice for a complaint, "see you're well by the time I return. Yes, I am leaving for a while, do not look so happy about it, pup. I do not know how long our campaign will take, but at least a moon, perhaps two. So, rest, recover, and be ready when I return."

He nodded, looking away. "I will, your majesty," he spoke with all the coldness of winter.

She growled, looking away. "I've… spoken with the steward, and the captains of the guard. They will know better now than to touch you. This does not mean you're free to do nothing, but your tasks will be… more fitting. That is all I can promise you."

He nodded, looking at his paws. "I understand, thank you."

"Good. And don't be so quick to thank me, boy. It's only because I am leaving that you are getting any more favours."

"I know, thank you for your charity."

She sighed, rubbing her muzzle. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or angry that he was answering her with such an impudent touch. "You're welcome… just be grateful you won't have to go back to the pens. From now on you will live in my chambers, that is one of your duties, to keep them how I like them, and to be in them whenever I need them."

He looked at her, confused. "Live here? Why?"

"Hell’s teeth boy, don't question it! I am giving you my bed, and a room away from prying eyes, just shut up and be thankful. From now on you will clean my chambers and attend me, but you will not have duties outside these walls, and you get your share sent from my table when I am done with it."

"But… why?" He asked, shaking his head as if the words simply couldn’t fit. Not just with fever muddling his senses, but honest confusion at the sudden change of face from the continuous labour and torture to 'toughen him up'.

"Because I said so," she snarled, "and because I'm your mother!"

His look conveyed his disbelief, a complete rejection of her statement. But her lack of subtlety in such things opened up her only recourse. State her truth, and care nothing for its lack of evidence.

"Don't you understand boy? I'm trying to make amends for what happened, to treat you better, to show you that I care. I'm not built for this weak babying crap, so this is the best you are going to get. And she," she jabbed a finger at the vixen who had quietly taken a place in the corner of the room, "is going to make sure you're fit and well, and keep her twisted paws where they belong while I am gone. Or I will personally flay her pelt off her body and leave her to die in the snow. Do you understand me!?"

That sudden spike of hate and spite both hammered home both the truth of her previous words, and the reality of the moment. This was still Queen Luna Helti, first of her name, and her kindness did not come without the promise of blood. So all he was left to do was nod in sudden fear and fervour to avoid that fate.

"Good. Now, get some more rest, and eat properly, and do some training, I don't want to hear you've been in bed the whole time. I've got to go." And with no more ceremony, she stood up, turned, and left, slamming the door behind her.

From her darkened corner, the vixen giggled, smiling wide, tail waving. "Well, who would have thought it, she was almost motherly to you at the end.”
Her smile had a demonic tinge, as she wasted no time in sliding onto the bed beside him. "Seems we’ll be left to our selves for sometime, won’t that be fun? I'm going to take such good care of you."

Blind to the warnings of his mother, he buried himself in her chest and sobbed. But they were not grieving tears, but relief. Body shaking and head spinning relief gripped him and flooded through. Relief that she had taken mercy on him, relief that he was no longer to be the victim of everyone who wanted a piece of him, relief that he would have regular meals again, and relief that he would have a companion again. At least for a while…

Wella held him close, stroking his head, leading it to her breast, whispering gently into his ear. "Hush, hush now, don't cry. Everything's going to be alright, I've got you now."

He sniffed, trying to stop the drops from forming, but all he could do was sniffle, and smile a small smile into the warm orange fur. Yes, she had him. She had him and she wasn't going to let him go.

***

Linden smiled, watching the sunset. He was standing on the ramparts, looking down over a tableau of snow covered roofs and smoke filled chimneys. The view, and the air ruffling the fluff of his cheeks, were a welcome treat. A week without his mother's tender mercies, or the brutal labours of the steward, or the predations of the guards, had done much to speed his recovery.

His fever had faded, and his strength was returning. Wella was happy to let him rest, to let him sleep and eat and drink as much as he needed. He felt like he was living in paradise, being treated like a real person, a prince once more, even.

The sun was low, painting the sky red and gold, the clouds were tinted orange and pink, the wind was cold and fresh. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, smelling the scent of the rich, earthy aroma of the forest. It was wonderful, it was a sight to behold, it was almost enough to take his mind off the fact that he was still a thrall, and one day his mother would return to remind him of that.

He heard the door open behind him, and he turned to see his companion smiling at him. She had changed a little too, after the army had left. Her fur was glossier, and her cheeks fuller, the life of a private nurse with access to the castle larders very much agreed with her.

"You look like you're feeling better," she said, approaching him.

He nodded, looking back out at the sunset, "I feel a lot better, thank you, Nurse Wella."

The foreign fox worked her way about him, smiling as she went, till her paws gently tugged him back in an intimate embrace.

"I'm glad to hear it, my little prince. Now, I've something special to show you, come," she pulled him away from the ramparts, leading him back into the castle.

He followed her, happy to let her lead him by the paw, and even happier when she led him to her chambers to show him what she had in store.

The vixen bade him sit on the simple cot bed, kneeling before him. "Now Linden," she put a palm on each of his knees, eyes meeting his, "I think we should have a talk about all those nice things you did for me. When you helped 'scratch my itch' while we were alone."

That caught him by surprise, and raised complicated feelings the young wolf would rather went unaddressed. He remembered very well helping her with her ‘Itch’, all the little things she'd asked him to do for her at which had seemed innocent and playful then, but now he knew were part of the 'Fucking' his mother demanded of him. If it hadn't been for Queen Helti finding him muzzle deep in Wella's privates, 'scratching her itch', he would never have been enslaved.

"Linden?" She coaxed, raising a paw to his face, lifting his chin, making him look at her. "Are you angry that I didn't tell you what we were doing? I'm sorry, I just wanted to share something so nice with you."

He shook his head, frowning, unable to hold hate for her. "No… I don't… I don't mind. I mean… it felt good to make you feel good, and I enjoy your… company, a lot. I just… I just wish you'd told me what it was, and what it meant."

"I'm sorry, my sweet prince,” her paws cupped and stroked his cheeks. “I should have done so. But I was afraid you wouldn't want to do it if you knew what we were doing. I know things are different for you in the north, but in Kaliasta, these matters are common and nothing to be ashamed of. It's a thing to show your affection for another, but I doubt she's ever done anything to make you feel nice in return, has she?"

"She… she gave me her room. She said she was going to make amends, and she was going to treat me better." He mumbled such things, feeling little more than the slightest hope at their veracity.

"She's just doing that to cover her shame. No, I mean she's never done anything like the things you do for her, has she? Such as… bringing you pleasure without thought for her herself, has she?"

"What?"

She smiled more like a wolf than he ever did as she drank in his befuddlement at the idea. Her paws working down from his face to his shoulders.

"Well, I'll take that as a no…" her fingers now brushing his chest, easily unlacing the rough cord of his shirt. "… Would you like me to show you?"

A brief hesitation, and he nodded, tail giving the slightest wriggle, and a shiver making his fur rise. “Y-yes, if… you really want… I mean…”

So simple, "Good boy, and thank you, my prince."

Not thinking behind the moment, he smiled, accepting her hands as they slipped lower and lower, till they found his lap. He gasped as her fingers expertly undid the simple draw string and let his trousers fall, leaving him exposed, and blushing as she admired him.

"My, my, you are eager for this, aren't you," she tittered, reaching out to touch his stiffening cock which had sprung from its sheath with little hesitation.

Her touch was light, but knowing, gentle but sure, he closed his eyes, just feeling, and she leaned forward and kissed his lips. It was not the brutal form of kiss he'd come to know from his mother, no biting or battling with his tongue, just a pleasant pressure and the wet heat of contact.

Her paws stroked his arms, his sides, and they were so familiar to him, but fresh now in this new way. How wrong it was, and yet how much he wanted it. He reached out to her, pulling her closer, but she just giggled in glee and pulled away.

"Be patient now," she said, "I'll be sure to have my fill of you when we're done here."

He looked at her, confused whimper in the back of his throat. "When we're done… doing what?" He asked, the stutter coming as rough finger pads found and rubbed his stiffening cock.

"Well, there are lots of things I could teach you, but first, I want to teach you how it feels to receive pleasure. I think it's only fair. You see, we're going to have a lot of fun together while we have the chance. Then, when she comes back, you'll be far better at doing those things she asks of you, and that means she won't have any excuse to be so cruel to you anymore. Doesn’t that sound good, Linden? Do you want me to teach you, all the things, that I, can do, for you?"

Her voice became ever more husky, the tones more provocative, slipping by his ears as their cheeks touched. His heart thundered like the footsteps of an angry giant, pounding away his thoughts with its incessant beat, till all he could do, was nod.

"Good, good boy." She smiled, licking her lips. "I knew you'd be a good pupil. Now, lie back for me, I'm going to take care of you."

He did as told, lying back, letting her mount him, her legs either side of his waist. He reached up and this time she afforded him a few seconds of contact, his fingers on her blouse, wishing it was fur. But she pulled back again.

"Alright, now close your eyes. Don't open them until I say."

She waited till he obeyed, seeing those lids snap shut and his desperate attempts to control his battering heart. Deep drags dilated his lupine nostrils, only accomplishing greater arousal as he filled his more sensitive sense with her scent, unrestricted by sight, letting imagination fill the gap.

"Wella, what are you…?"

"Shh, no talking. And don't open your eyes, keep them closed."

With subtle motions, she shifted her angle, letting her reach behind while a crooked knee curled on his chest, keeping him comfortably pinned. Her right paw went back, taking hold of the firm, hot, lupine length, and began to stroke.

Warm pads against his sensitive flesh, he could feel her move up and down, the gentle rubbing accentuated by the blindness. But he kept his eyes sealed shut, letting her take control, not daring disobey, even as his breath shuddered.

"You like that don't you, my sweet boy?" She read the answer of his face, tongue tickling the tip of his nose in a lick. "Then keep your eyes shut, and just relax.”

Her warm paw continued its march up and down his length. He gasped as he felt her tongue in his ear, but screwed his eyes even tighter shut, not daring to disappoint, and not wishing the sensation to stop, enjoying the feel of her attention moving along his shaft. It gripped him tightly, pushing down his sheath to expose every centimetre. A fit of trembling took him, his paws squirming at the rough spun sheets.

"Wella… please…"

"Shh, my sweet little prince, just relax and let me do this for you."

He groaned, trying to breathe slowly, but it was hard with her teeth grazing his skin. It felt good, in a way that didn’t need forcing, and he knew he would be undone if she kept it up. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the moans that were boiling up from his chest, escaping in small whimpers.

If only Lindon opened his eyes, he would see the predatory grin, the satisfied smirk, the absolute revelry from power that the vixen held. Her eyes alight as she worked him like a fine instrument, pumping just enough to draw him out, kissing just enough to make him fall. Males were so easy to seduce, especially when they didn't know what was going on. Her plans stretched far ahead, and they all needed her little bargaining chip to play his role. But a lady could enjoy herself while she worked.

"Oh… gods," he moaned, gripping the sheets all the tighter, feeling his peak approaching fast. "I'm… I'm…"

"Yes, yes, come now my prince," she whispered in his ear, letting her paw slide down to grip his swelling knot, binding tight to drive him further. "Don't fight it, let me make you feel all the joy you deserve."

He whimpered, trembling, panting as he struggled through the surges of pleasure that were flooding him. He couldn't hold out any longer, he had to do what she said, he had to let go, he had to cum.

The enraptured pup felt himself tense, and with a final muffled gasp, he exploded in her paw. He shook, crying out softly, eyes still shut tight, hips thrusting and bucking on their own, a howl crawled out of his throat as he emptied himself onto her fingers in a five thick spurts of watery white.

"There we go," she whispered, gently stroking him till he was finished. "Feel better?"

He nodded, panting, breathing hard. He was limp and exhausted, hardly able to move. His body tingled all over, his ears burned, his legs trembled, but he had never felt so good, never in all the times Luna had forced herself on him had he felt such un-soured pleasure.

"You… you really can make it feel good…" he whispered it, shock and afterglow clouding reason.

The fox spared him another lick about the ear, helping him settle fully on the pillow. "Well, that's because I care about you. You can open your eyes now, you've been a very good boy for me."

He did, seeing only her smiling down at him, her paw covered with his seed. He blushed, looking away.

"What?" She said, "Afraid of a little evidence? Come now, it's nothing shameful. After all, it came from you, my prince. Don't be shy about it, you'll be seeing it a lot in the days to come. I'm going to show you how to really use your, assets, so the evil wolf queen will never want to hurt you again."

Blinking uncomprehendingly, he voiced his confusion. "Use… my assets?"

She giggled, kissing him on the nose, making him blush all the more.

"There are ways of handling a violent partner, methods of keeping them as placid as babes. Wouldn’t you like me to teach you, my prince?"

From anyone else, he would not believe it possible. But from Wella, the one person he knew had his well-being at heart, he couldn’t doubt her intentions.

"Yes, but… what do I need to do?"

She smiled, leaning over him, pressing her chest against his. She felt his heart hammering, his breath speeding, and the look in his eyes told him that she had him.

"Just what you've always done, my little prince, trust me."

He closed his eyes, smiling gently, and accepted the incoming kiss. So much nicer than the evil wolf queen's, and so much more enjoyable.

***

Wella reclined a moment more on the mussed bed, licking her lips, running her paws over Linden's sleeping form. He was laid out as naked as the day he was born, breathing slowly, fast asleep. The taste of his seed lingered on her muzzle, but it was not so unpleasant. And she would happily clean every last drop off him if she had to.

His cock lay limp against his leg, spent for the night after a very thorough 'Training'. It was her little pet name for all the wonderful things she had been teaching him. As much as she loved watching him squirm and whimper when he came, there was more to what transpired than just sex.

From attitude to offering, bearing and teasing, she’d regurgitated many of the lessons she’d been told as a girl, but with her own twist of perversion. All to ensure that when the bitch queen returned, caked in blood and carrying the spoils of her evil, she would find a fit and healthy young whore, who could open her life to a world of pleasures.

Linden shifted, sighing gently, and stirring her from her revelry. She smiled deviously, biting her lip, taking a deep breath as she settled beside him. The air in her room was cool, but not uncomfortably so, and with the body heat of both occupants it was warm enough to slumber. That was the excuse, at any rate. She'd convinced him to stay in her little nook most nights, so they wouldn't make a mess in the queen's bed chamber, but also so the keen nose of a wolf wouldn't detect what she had been up to.

He whimpered softly, mumbling something unintelligible, then settled against her again. For all her scheming, she would be a liar to pretend she did enjoy this part of her plans, a soft and trusting body, so eager to please, that did just what she wanted. Not too smart, but not too stupid either, just gullible enough and more than desperate enough to take someone like her as a close friend.

And besides, there was always the thrill of knowing how much she could get away with when no-one else was around. He was such a lovely boy, and he trusted her so much. Even if it was in an entirely different way to what Queen Helti did with him, there was no denying that they each had come to mirror the other. Only for her, Linden wanted to please out of love, instead of fear.

She sighed, letting her paw rest on his chest, feeling his fur beneath her fingers. How much longer till the bitch queen was back? Would her little pet be ready then by then? Luna Helti was not known for patience, and would no doubt tire of a recalcitrant lover, and if Linden lost all favour, then what would be left for her?

All she could do now, was teach him, prepare him, and await the return of her most hated rival.

***

Chill wind circled around the small yard, the scene grey with a steely sky and stone walls, the only colour being the brown of the filth that the ground had become, and the flash of orange waiting at the side, watching the other occupant as he panted and flopped onto a low bench.

Wella smiled, licking her lips as she sat beside Linden. He was wearing only a loin cloth, and his white pelt was streaked through with mud after his exercises. Not the strapping or bulky builds of the others of his kind, the boy had more slender, almost southerner proportions like her. But he built stamina well, and with a little feeding he had a soft layer of fat that kept his legs and bottom from thinning. As she watched his snowy fur bob in the wind, she wondered if he'd ever grow much taller seeing as he was a runt, or if he'd always be boyish and soft despite age.

"Well done Linden, you're looking far better now. When the raiders come home they won't even recognise you," she said in her sing-song praise, a little mockery in the tone, but a smile that struck straight to his heart.

Blushing and wagging his tail, knowing it was an exaggeration and a half. But with the regular meals Wella made sure he ate, and the brisk practice she insisted he took every day, he was certainly starting to feel more confident in himself.

"I don't know about that," he replied, trying to sound humble.

She chuckled, stroking his back, running her fingers through his fur. "Well, I do, and you should too. Now, what say you go and have a bath, and we can continue your, Training, hmm?"

Her words had him licking his lips like a trained dog hearing the dinner bell, so she wasted no more time, snatching up his hand, before anyone might spot the tenting front of his loincloth.

She whisked him through the castle to the heated wash room on the upper floors, using her supposed authority to 'Have whatever she needed to take care of him' to bludgeon their way into one of the small, private chambers.

They were one of the marvels of the old castle, said to have been build by slaves taken from the old empire in the time of the Duum. Old piping, worn and creaking, brought the heat from deep below, pumped by thralls at the beginning and end of the day to serve the whole castle. Sweating walls dripped with condensing steam. Even though the atmosphere was only a breath above body temperature, they were sweltering compared to much of Rusgard, making for a humid, moist cave, filled with stone basins and fenced in with wood panels.

Once inside, she slammed the door behind her, latching it, and pushed him against the wall. He yelped in surprise, but before he could say anything she had her paws around his neck and was kissing him hard. Pulling back when it became clear he wasn't following her lead.

"Oh come now, Linden, we've spoken about this before," she insisted, releasing the hard grip to rub his ears instead, "if I had been your mother just then she wouldn't stop no matter how uncomfortable it made you. So, what should you do when she gets rough with you?"

He burned in embarrassment, pelt already plastered about his fleshy frame. "I… I'm sorry, I was just, surprised."

She smiled, rubbing his muzzle till he was silent and still. "You are forgiven. But remember, when she takes you in this way," she grabbed him tight once more and marched him back till he was pressed against the wall, "you shouldn't fight it, she'll always win. So instead, you need to…?"

She waited for his reply, at least her mouth and her voice did, her hands were elsewhere. One pressed to his chest to hold him in place, the other undoing the simple knot that held his loincloth on.

"I… I need to…"

"Go on, say it," she pushed, the damp fabric falling between them.

"I need to… offer her something, which she’ll like more."

She grinned, "That's right, and you need to learn to read her, and what she wants, to know what is best to offer. Nothing more likely to anger her than boring her with the same offer. Now Linden, have a try, offer me what you think I desire.”

The white runt swallowed, blue eyes flicking to her features a moment, before his muzzle parted.

“Nurse Wella… would you like me to, lick your cunny for you?”

She leaned in closer, closer, till their whiskers tangled and she was breathing in his ear, the scent of her washing over him in waves as she brushed his naked body.

"Better, that’s a nice thing to ask. But better still would be if you seemed eager to do it. However, not today. Today, would you like to try… Fucking me, Linden?" She stressed that word, the one his mother used to describe all this, letting it land with a solid thump behind the F. Percussive, evocative. It felt sinful, and wrong, and wonderful.
“She won’t wait for an answer Linden. Your mistress is telling you she’d like to mate, what have you to say to that?”

His paws were sweating at the notion, making it an effort not to pant at the sudden spike of heat. But uncertainty at his ability, as well as the nagging fear of if they should be discovered, made him hesitate to blindly take her offer, to go further than they ever had before.

"But… but, what if I can't please you?"

"Oh, I think you'll do just fine. After all, I've been helping you learn, haven't I?" Not one to be denied, the vixen used the tones she knew best wormed their way between his ears, just as her paws worked through his coat to the half full sheath at his groin.
"I'm going to help you again, and afterwards, you'll show me just how good you've been getting. Then nothing she does to you will be a surprise anymore, you'll know just what to do. So, my little prince, are you ready?"

He looked at her, biting his lip, nodding slowly.

"Yes, Nurse Wella."

She smiled, kissing him, pressing her chest against his, grinding their hips together. He gasped, feeling her breasts through the thin material of her tunic, feeling the layers of fur, then fabric, then fur again between their skins.

"Get in the bath, and remember, be as quite as a mouse," she whispered, kissing him one last time before stepping back. "And when you feel yourself getting close you must tell me, that is very important, Linden."

Ears burning in blush, Linden nodded, and hurried to obey, stepping out of the moistened cloth and climbing into the stone clad tub. Luke warm water leached away his over-ardour as he sighed at the balmy experience.

Wella watched him settle, anticipating what she was about to take from him. They'd played and danced around this, and she had had plenty of joy from him. But now, with the window of opportunity closing fast, she could no longer resist helping herself to the full experience. And besides, she counselled herself, it would be good practice for the boy in pulling out.

She stripped off her clothes, her plain tunic and leggings set on the small wooden trestle, and climbed into the bath with him. He looked up at her with wide eyed adoration, as she came down with a leg either side to straddle him. His breath caught as she leaned close, kissing him hard on the muzzle. Her tongue pushing against his teeth, demanding entry, and he gave it gladly. Her paws caressed his chest, stroking his shoulders, holding him tight as they locked lips, and she felt his cock grow beneath her, stiffening rapidly till it was tucked under her tail. She chuckled, breaking the kiss, licking his ear.

"Oh my sweet little prince, you are so eager," she whispered, nibbling his ear playfully. "That's just what I like to see."

He nuzzled her chest to hide the blush, while her paw slid down his back, scratching lightly, teasingly, till it came to rest on his rump. He felt her fingers digging into his cheek, massaging the pliant flesh there, feeling his buttocks shift under her touch.
"Such a lovely bottom," she whispered, stroking him slowly, almost idly. "So firm, and plump, and taught all at once. Such a shame they put an ugly brand to it." She ran her finger over the crude runes as she spoke. It was not pleasant, but then nothing about slavery was pleasant. At least her version of the ravaging queen had given him a chance to heal before she began to play with it.

He closed his eyes, breathing deep of her scent to keep himself calm, while his heart and mind waged a silent war. Deep down, he knew how wrong all this was. Even if there had been no ceremony, no oath before Teer and Gorm, he was by many measures bound and mated to his mother. Now he was about to defile that bond by laying with another. For any other he would never dare it, but for his Wella…

"Now, keep your eyes on me, let's make this first time special.” And when next they kissed he opened wide, letting her invade him, allowing her to have him. She reached down between her thighs, positioning him properly, guiding him towards her folds. His eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to keep them open despite the sensations, biting his lip, panting gently as he felt himself push up against her entrance.

Wella smiled, looking down at him, making sure he was watching her before she began to ease herself onto him. Not a celibate woman in her captivity, she moved with easy experience to catch that pointed head between the lips of her spade, rolling her hip ever so slightly to adjust.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt her part for him, squeezing tightly, clamping down on his cheating flesh. He might be small in body, but down below he was fully a grown wolf, and she was only a fox. The pressure, and the love he felt, they exceeded the feelings the queen provided.

"Oh my prince," she cooed, licking her lip "you feel so big inside me." Her tail wagged gently behind her, brushing against his legs, tickling his fur and sending gentle ripples through the water. While it was more flattery than truth, she was enjoying this far more than she had thought. No stranger to being forced to take a wolf's cock, slaves rarely had a choice in such things, but this time, she was the one taking. And from such a pretty little thing, wrapped around her finger like a lost puppy.

She began a slow undulation, moving back and forth, grinding herself against him as she sat upright. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, feeling himself almost painfully hard within her grasp. It felt, amazingly good, her body moved over him, bouncing slightly, rubbing herself against him with great deliberation. His fingers gripped the edge of the tub, trembling, struggling not to cry out or moan while the tight glove of her sex expanded and snapped tight about him, strangling his cock in vixen flesh.

"That's a good boy," she crooned for him, "now just remember, quiet as mice, and you must tell me when you're close."

Linden had no words, all he knew were that her motions grew faster. Her pace increased, pressing down harder onto him. The liquid sloshed, lapping at their fur, covering them in droplets. He couldn't help himself, he whimpered softly, feeling his cock throbbing inside her.

"I know what you want my prince," she whispered, licking his ear, nibbling it lightly. "But you must hold back, remember your lessons. Make me feel pleasure first, then you can have yours, she won’t take kindly to anything else."

He nodded fervently, trying to concentrate on something other than the tight squeeze around his member. It was too much, he didn't think he could last any longer. This was his Wella, his best friend, his only friend, the nurse that did everything to make him feel better again no matter what. He knew she wasn't going to hurt him, and so he let go of his solid supports, and wrapped his arms around her.

"How does it feel my prince?" She whispered, returning the embrace, her breasts engulfing his cheeks. "Does it feel good? Is it making you happy?"

He murred and mumbled two words. "Yes, very."

She chuckled, rubbing his ears with her fingers, leaning forward to nuzzle his scalp. "And how do I feel? Do I feel nice and soft around your cock?"

He burnt all the more at the questions, pulling his face away in embarrassment, making the vixen grin.

"You shouldn't be shy about it my prince, we're far beyond that now," she teased, coaxing his chin towards her once more. "Tell me, how does it feel? Tell me how much you like it, like me, my prince. Tell me how good I am to you. She will want to know, she wants to feel proud and skilled."

"I think… I think it feels nice inside you," he whispered, eyes flitting. "And I really like having you close to me."

"Go on," she said, nuzzling his cheek, kissing his neck. "Tell me how much you love me, tell me what you want from me, my sweet boy."

His tongue felt dry as it moistened lips, a spike of emotions, both good and bad, lodged where his mind should be. "Wella, I… I love you, I really do. You're my best friend, and I don't know what I'd do without you."

"That's good, more. Tell a lady how good she is, how special she is, make her feel even better. Go on, practice with me, tell me all the nice things."

"I… I love you more than my mother. You've always been there for me, and you make me feel so much better when I'm sad. You're beautiful, and I love your smile, and your laugh, and your voice. I love everything about you."

"Good, good, keep going," she whispered, biting his ear playfully. "Keep telling me how much you love me."

"I love you so much, I'd do anything for you. You're so wonderful, and kind, and beautiful, and I want to please you so much."

She grinned, leaning back, switching to rapid pumps as she let his words push her closer to her personal nirvana.

"Yes, I think that will do nicely," she said, panting slightly, looking down at him. "Now, be a good boy, I'm almost… almost there… just a little bit more…". She leaned forward, gripping his shoulders, squeezing him tightly as she rode him hard. Her hips thrashed the water, her legs pressed against his sides, her tail whipping around wildly behind her. 

Linden wasn’t faring any better. Worse in fact, as he partook in the act for the first time without wishing it to be over and done.

"I'm… I'm going to…"

"Not yet," she hissed, "don't come, don't come, let me just-! Oh!"

She shuddered, gasping, her claws digging into his shoulders. She squeezed him tightly, gritting her teeth, breathing hard. He whimpered, struggling to hold back, but it was too much.

"I'm sorry, I can't-"

Quick as a viper, she rose and slipped free of him, gripping his cock just in time to prevent his seed from spoiling her moment. He groaned, gasping, trembling, feeling his peak recede. She grinned, licking her lips, stroking him slowly through those desperate pumps, those long strings of white that tangled in the water to matt and mar her fur.

"Shh, good boy," she whispered, kissing him gently. "Just how I asked you for it. You're getting so good at this."

"Thank you, Wella, that was… really nice," he said with a dopey grin, feeling the exhilaration cool off in the waters surrounding them.

"Good, I'm glad you liked it. Now, we'd best clean up before someone comes looking for us. And remember, what do you do if a lady demands it from you?"

"I should offer her something, so she'll be happy."

She giggled, kissing him, grinding her hips against his.

"That's right, and when she asks for more, you should give it to her. Never just say no, or she'll get angry. Now scrub up, can't let them smell what we've been up to." She watched him climb out of the bath, admiring his form, watching the droplets of water slide down his white fur. She sighed, licking his offering off her paw, wishing she had more time. But any day now the raiding party could return, and she needed to be sure no trace of her 'lessons' remained when the wolf queen arrived.

But when she did, she'd find her little toy a far more willing and skilled bed-partner, and if that animal lust in her grew to be more substantial, then Wella Stonebrook would have her hand firmly on the queen's desire. From there, there was much a vixen could do.