The sun outside this early in the morning is filtered through the trees to gently beam on the border collie’s black and white muzzle. Looking out of the second story window with a smile of pure content, Sam flits his pen between his fingers. “Does anyone know the tale of Icarus, and can they explain how it’s relevant?” the teacher is a chocolate brown Labrador with drooping ears. Seated directly adjacent to the woman’s desk Sam pops his left hand up after waiting ten seconds for someone else to volunteer. “You can’t all just expect Mr. Eckhart over there to answer all the time,” she complains, passing him over and pointing at the back right of the corner. In only two weeks the cliques have spawned, a cluster of female rabbits drawing the woman’s ire. “Steph.”
“Hm?” The girl’s ears prick up and she shyly starts to reply, “I… uh, failing because you tried to hard?”
Taken aback by her answer the Labrador nods, raising her eyebrows and looking at the rest of the students. “Close enough,” she says, turning back and writing on the whiteboard. “Has anybody done the readings for this week?” She purposely uses her hand to mask the prized pupil, trying to remain unbiased against the rest of the class. With her right paw, she counts those who did the work. Of the 27 in class, nine have their hands raised. “If you’re not willing to study, I’d recommend getting out of the advanced class,” she berates the students. “At least then you might not drag down the good students.” The woman brings attention to the back corner again. “Steph, come sit down here,” she says, directing the rabbit to the vacant seat beside Sam.
The girl sits down with a huff and flick of her long brown hair, allowing her books to slam on the desk as she drops them. “Yes Ms. Lili,” Steph replies.
Sam shifts his seat closer to the wall, uncomfortable with the scantily clad girl sitting next to him. Despite the school being a private boy’s facility, the advanced literature and analysis class is co-ed with the sister school next door due to limited numbers. “Um… can you move over a bit?” he asks, stuck against the wall.
Steph spreads the rest of her belongings across what little space the border collie had spare. “What’s the matter?” she asks, jiggling her chest.
“N-no nothing, just I like a bit of room,” Sam explains, waving his arms around to create some distance between himself and the girl.
“But a girl needs her space,” Steph replies, giving a doe-eyed look.
Sitting behind the awkward pair and muffling a bit of laughter, another rabbit reaches over and taps her shoulder. “You’re chewing the wrong leaf,” he says, then pats Sam on the shoulder. “Sammy’s spoken for aren’t ya?”
Driven to hide his face behind his notebook out of embarrassment Sam lets out an exasperated groan. “Shut up Charlie,” he grumbles, flopping his face on the desk.
“Can’t you even get work done up the front?” the teacher interrupts, berating Charlie.
The boy’s long ears are black on the outside and pink inside, lopped behind his head. “I’m just tryin’ to give Steph a tip,” he answers with a sly wink directed at the girl. Charlie leans back against the wall, putting his feet on the chair next to him casually, his azure eyes are complemented by an orange patch of fur that covers his right eye.
Sam spends the remainder of the lesson confined to the quarter of a desk he was lucky enough to claim. He fidgets with the buttons on his t-shirt to get at the metal necklace around his throat, a small token to celebrate their first month together. The bell sounds for lunch but the canine doesn’t budge, grabbing Charlie’s arm when the rabbit goes to walk out. “Can you not go telling people?” Sam is flustered as he berates his friend.
“It’s fine buddy, nobody is going to give you any shit,” Charlie replies, patting him on the head. “If they knew who he was they wouldn’t for sure,” he laughs and starts to leave.
The pair have been friends since elementary school, Charlie even being the first person who Sam admitted his sexuality to. They return to their school’s campus before breaking away, the rabbit heading towards the canteen while Sam heads to the bathroom. His belt buckle clinks as it comes apart, snapping the button apart and zipping down the fly of his pants. Sam flops his sheath over the edge of his underwear and puts himself close to the urinal and begins to pee, afraid of using one of the less-than-hygienic stalls.
After finishing his business, he reverses the pant removal and lets out a sigh, washing his hands thoroughly and striding out of the bathroom. “Oof,” Sam grunts as he walks into a shoulder knocking into his chest, the rest of the arm wraps around his body and pulls him back inside. “Hi there,” he says, starting to blush.
Tyler drags him further along into the bathroom, through the unlatched gate into the empty locker-rooms. “Why’re you hanging around that perv?” he asks, nipping his boyfriend on the nose.
“Are you stalking me?”
“I’d be an awful stalker pointing it out.”
“He’s my best friend,” Sam answers and scrunches his nose, worming his hand under Tyler’s shirt and kneading the tense muscles. “You know I’m not your property.” He snuggles in nice and close, smiling happily while inhaling the scent of his partner’s cologne.
“I could fix that.” Tyler grabs at the tight rear end, massaging it through the fine black fabric.
Sam squirms and blushes from a well of excitement and apprehension. Each time the grip on his ass tenses he shakes his head, but whenever their lips meet it morphs into a submissive nod. “Ty…” he breathes heavily as the paw slips down the back of his pants, squeezing his pudgy cheeks and spreading them apart. “Right now?”
Removing his paw and stroking the dog’s chin playfully Tyler replies, “If you think I’d want my first time doing it here… dummy.”
Exhaling exhaustively after bringing himself to anticipation, Sam lowers his head into the gentle scratching. “I wouldn’t mind it…” he admits, tail sweeping the dirt covered concrete.
“What class you got next?”
“Freebie, history, economics, you?”
“Phys ed, same, freebie.” Tyler brings his paw back to his side and pulls out his wallet. He thumbs through the leather pouch counting fifty dollars. “You want me to get lunch so we can eat at home?” he asks.
“I was gonna get something now, but if I get free food that counts as economics, right?” Sam chuckles, flinching as he receives a light tap on the forehead.
“You’re not allowed to skip class,” Tyler warns and snaps his wallet closed. He directs his arm to the exit and carefully walks out of the changing room, ducking behind one of the separating walls until Sam has followed him out and begun to leave the toilet completely. Emerging a couple of seconds after his boyfriend, Tyler bumps into him from behind and shoves him to the side. “Get out of the way,” he remarks, walking away to the back oval.
A pained expression covers Sam’s face after being pushed into a supporting pillar, rubbing his soon to be bruised arm softly. In the time that it had taken to be cock-blocked and asked for lunch, Charlie just starts walking from the canteen holding a salad roll. “You alright?” he asks with a mouth full of lettuce, bread, and carrot.
“Mhmmm.” Sam grits his teeth and rolls his eyes. “He still won’t even let anyone see us near each other,” he explains, rolling his shoulder to loosen the muscle.
Lowering his roll and dropping a bunch of the salad on the asphalt, Charlie groans, “Do you want me to go speak to him?” Before his friend can reply the bold rabbit starts to chase the wolf to the open paddock. He does a quick scan of the hundreds of faces, most of them larger mammals such as wolves, kangaroos, horses and primates. Charlie hesitates a bit, preferring the quieter civility of the front half of the school over the testosterone pit out back. “Oi Tyler!” he shouts, voice cracking and drawing the attention of a dozen unengaged students.
“Don’t, don’t. Charlie, he-” Sam begins pulling his friend’s backpack.
“How many times have you and-” the rabbit hits the ground with a thud and grunt as his bag is yanked down.
Frozen halfway between the bunny and the track field, Tyler clenches his teeth. His cheeks start to turn red, hoping that the ensuing silence might be a chance to hide behind his hands. “Ugh.”
“Please don’t go yelling that,” Sam lectures the rabbit who is still flat on the ground.
“Whatever Sam,” Charlie replies and crawls back to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. “If he hits you again I’m not going to just let it happen,” he warns and points at the border collie, storming away after causing the scene.
Confused by his friend’s outrage Sam lets out a lonely sigh and crosses his arms defensively. His eyes flick up from the ground to meet Tyler’s mortified face, quickly snapping back to the ground before each boy turns away. “Idiot,” Sam mumbles and slowly walks towards the canteen.
Relieved to have the awkward confrontation fade away Tyler relaxes, shedding his bag and tossing it into the pile beside the track-field. He starts to stretch and loosen up, reaching down to his feet and holding the position for a few seconds. Despite the commotion nobody bothers him, everyone minding their business. The rest of lunch is spent between running laps around the field and stretching when his legs start to ache.
Spending the remainder of lunch hidden away in the library, Sam turns through the pages of his textbook, History Through Empires. Some authors close to explicit pornography in their detailed explanations, including tales of ‘bonding’ between men and boys. Already a few weeks into the new semester and with a report due on any of the authors used in the textbook, Sam flips over the ears of a few pages in preparation, flicking between the index and pages where excerpts of that author exist.
The bell can barely be heard inside the library, only able to tell by the slow evaporation of the other students. Tucked in the back corner where nobody can see Sam slyly unzips his pants with his left hand, rubbing himself through the tight underwear. He enjoys the risk of being caught, chewing his lip while continuing to stroke the forming erection. Curling over one of the pages he had marked, he shifts his paw inside his underwear and starts to actively jerk off.
The marked page displays an artist’s depiction of one of those ‘bonding’ ceremonies. Beneath it is the author’s description; a recounting of how, ‘many barely pubescent boys were inducted’ into varying walks of life. The picture shows one of those boys, a sleek black wolf similar to his boyfriend, licking the knotted shaft of a larger grey-furred wolf while a boy smaller than him has the tip of his cock pushing into the black wolf’s ass.
The youngest of the inductees; determined not by time of birth, but by ritual testing of preparedness; was often forced to endure domination by the eldest and second youngest of his unit in the case of military. Seen as the baby of the men, it displayed the will to protect ranging from the eldest to youngest. In times of war, he would rarely see battle, instead serving as a messenger to the home-front, a means to ensure their bloodlines would persist through him.
Sam flicks it to the next page upon reaching the end, huffing and panting from stroking himself. Side by side illustrations depict further rituals. The black wolf from the page before with a muzzle painted with cum, sleeping in the arms of a man. Beside it an orgy of wolves, all similarly sized like clones.
Eight units existed at every one time, one for each month of the year. The unit’s next bout of recruitment would take place in the following year, but for those eight months the youngest could often be found in the bed of his officers. As a show of gratitude for the protection and kinship, he would offer himself in relief monthly to those of his induction. If anyone not an officer of his unit, or from his induction, attempted to join, they would be brutally attacked and the offender punished by a collection of officers. Officers would rarely ever engage in the orgies, respecting the bonds between the youths.
Grunting and screwing his face up, Sam cums inside of his underpants. His hips rock back and forth as the knot pushes out uncomfortably, squirming on the chair until he stops ejaculating. “Ah fuck…” he pants, looking around sheepishly as he tries to zip his trousers up, struggling to make it over the knot tucked down in his undies. Sam slowly rises to his feet, turning away and tugging his pant zipper above the swollen mass and does his pants up. The rather fine fabric shows an imprint of his cock as well as a bit of fluid seeping through. Spent and still not caring about getting caught, he shrugs. “I peed on my pants I guess,” he mumbles, explaining it to himself in case anyone asks.