DISCLAIMER:  This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any other person's, real or fictional, may or may not be a coincidence because I probably don't give a damn.  But it's original work, so don't steal it, or zerglings will carry you to the hive in your sleep and sacrifice you for the glory of the swarm.  It's erotic as well, so please heed the story tags. If you're underage to read such material in your area or otherwise uninterested, don't read it (you probably will anyway.)  For everyone else, enjoy!

I'm usually quite a selfless lover.  It brings me immense joy to please my partner, and I'll go to great lengths to fulfill their every fantasy, so long as they trust me to do so.

But today, I'm being selfish.

A lot of people inexperienced with 'the scene' think that subs always have the harder job.  Physical effort, sure, maybe.  The mental effort is all on the dom.  In fact, it can be damn hard for a shy submissive to find ways to put the same amount of mental effort into a relationship as the dominant does.  Maybe that's just how the trade-off is supposed to work, but I've never quite been able to grasp it; and I know of a few others from the scene who have expressed similar issues with their relationships.

You see, right now, I'm tied to the bars of my titanium bunkbed (More valuable than any piece of bondage furniture could ever be.)  5'10'', average figure, and all the usual fox markings minus the white, for those of you who demand a visual.  I like to dye; makes me feel a bit more unique.  It's black this week, to match the sleek ponytail tied behind my head.  I've got a small scar on my right cheek (the face-cheek, for clarification) and only the claws and the slightly-smaller ears betray the small amount of lynx in my blood.  I'm standing, with my legs straight and spread, my arms behind my back, my tail tied to a support bar above me, my eyes blindfolded, and my torso suspended just a cock's length above the bed.  A very important unit of measure, as the wolf sitting on my bed today is having quite the time taking advantage of my mouth, forcing my lips down to his knot over and over as his cock plugs my throat and pre-cum assaults my taste buds.  And I'm being the most selfish lover in the world right now.

Because I don't have to think.  Being a dom takes the real effort in this situation—in a real, consensual relationship, anyway.  You have to watch your subs limits, know their likes and dislikes, do all the tying / untying, be and be there to support them as they come out of subspace.  Even outside of bondage, you're still the one coming up with the orders, all the sub has to do is execute them.  You're expected to initiate the sex and come up with the ideas.  Me? All I have to do is let this wolf pound into my muzzle until he decides to paint my face with his cum and leave me there to squirm or fuck my tailhole until I'm moaning like a slut and begging for more.  I mean, sure, I'll be as active as I can be; I'm doing my best to give him some good head right now, even as I gag and blush from the lewd, humilating position I'm in, but how much can I really participate?  I'm just along for the ride.

And boy, what a ride it is.  This wolf knows all the right ways to push my buttons; I don't think anyone's ever managed to get me this worked up just from a face-fuck.  He's holding my ponytail just right, keeping a firm grip on the base to give him all the control without painfully yanking at my hair.  Every once in a while, he pulls me off and caresses my face, lifting my blindfold and looking down at me lovingly while I gasp and pant, pre-cum hanging off my tongue and eyes struggling to adjust to the light.  Damn I hate when people do that, I was already blushing enough without him making me feel all those gooey, romantic emotions that make me melt.  And as if all those damn emotions weren't bad enough, that kind of tender stuff turns me on even more.  Fucking wolf.

My not-fooling-anyone crusade against romantic gestures aside, those moments serve as a stark contrast to what he often does next, holding me down onto his cock and watching me choke and try to pull against his grip, letting me gasp for breath momentarily before shoving me down again, dizzy from the extended air deprivation.  I'm going to go insane if this guy doesn't hurry up and get around to pounding me—my own manhood is throbbing needily beneath me, releasing nearly as much pre as the wolf in my muzzle.  

And then, almost as if answering my silent, slutty prayers, the wolf pulls off my muzzle, giving me a sloppy kiss while he pulls a pillow out for my head to rest on (damn him and his sexy romance!) and then secured a gag into my muzzle before proceeding around to my rear.  My ears twitch with anticipation, trying to catch some hint of what's going to happen next.  Of course, they failed miserably at that task as they often do, as by the time the sound of leather whistling through the airs registers on my brain, my rear is already being assaulted with a sharp slap and a hot, stinging pain that forces more pre-cum out of my shaft.

I struggle to remember what he was wearing—I cold have sworn he was in gi pants, so he shouldn't have had a belt with him.  And then I let loose a loud whimper when I realized that it was *my* whip he had just struck me with—he found my toy stash!  That whimper was quickly cut off by another swift strike to my ass, but it was quickly replaced by another louder whimper as I realized that him finding that whip means that he found all my other toys as well—and he obviously wasn't afraid to use them.

He was obviously no stranger to how to whip a sub.  The location, speed, and timing varied with each strike, and between each one he would grope me, prodding at my tailhole or teasing the base of my shaft.  I didn't know whether to whimper in pain or moan out in pleasure, as each strike turned me on worse.

Next came the thin bamboo paddle, a dreaded personal favorite from my collection.  And his assault on my ass continued, until tears were just beginning to form—both of pain and of raw lust, as by now I would surely be begging to be fucked were it not for the gag turning my words into gibberish.  He finished off with a few light strikes just across my sack—god damn I want to know how this wolf knows me so well—securing my full emotional submission to go alongside the obvious physical predicament I was in.

The next thing I feel is a small, leather ring wrapping around my cock and balls, holding my cock tightly just behind the knot.  It wouldn't make me unable to cum, but it was just uncomfortable enough to make sure I wouldn't forget about my throbbing, needy erection begging for attention beneath me.  And then a gentle, teasing rub to my cockhead preceded the smell of heating balm—again, not enough to inflict serious pain, but the burning was certainly enough to make me start squirming.

Only then, with my ass surely red underneath my fur, my muzzle thoroughly fucked, my balls sore, and my dick throbbing, bound, dripping, and burning, did that damn wolf finally give me what I want.  He lubed up his cock; applying a bit to my ass, which I had already stretched myself prior to this little, sexy tryst between us.  He pressed in slowly, simultaneous moans being released from us both, and kept going until he had hilted his entire cock up to the knot inside of me.

And then the fucking started.  This wolf may have been able to sneak a lot of romance into a hard, kinky bondage session, but even he can't make this into romantic, lovemaking, newlywed's-honeymoon kind of sex.  This is exactly what it's supposed to be—a nice, rough fuck.  A hard cock slamming into my tailhole, making me moan and whimper like a little slut, my cock still begging for stimulation beneath me.  The slightest touch would have gotten me off, but I knew it was safe to say I wouldn't be receiving that until he knotted the little fox-bitch underneath him.  Both his hands are busy at the moment; one holding my hair for leverage as he split my ass open again and again, another tormenting me with nails down my back, slaps to my ass, and eventually a tight grip on my hips as he gave my asshole everything he had.

The fucking didn't last long—after this much build-up, it wasn't meant to be anything but short and explosive.  I finally felt his nails dig into my hips as, with one, powerful thrust, he slammed his knot home, locking his throbbing wolfhood inside me and howling as he filled me up with seed.  Not one to dissapoint, the short little thrusts into my tailhole continued as he reached underneath me, stroking my cock quickly and roughly. And with a loud, muffled howl of my own, my body finally exploded in orgasm, my tailhole clenching down on his knot, milking the last remnants of his seed out as my own seed sprayed into the puddle of sweat, lube, and cum slowly accumulating onto my bedsheets.

See, this is what I mean.  I haven't lifted a damn finger.  He had to do all the work, and I just had to lay here and enjoy an explosive climax from an amazing sexual act that I barely had to participate in at all.  And soon he's going to untie me, and catch me before I collapse into the mixed puddle of fluids on the bed.  And he's going to hold me and coddle me and whisper sweet nothings into my ear while I snuggle into that soft, black fur.  And tomorrow I'll return the favor; I'll make him a nice, romantic candlelit dinner before I climb on top of him and ride him to an orgasm, or I'll surprise him while he's at the computer and give him a no-strings-attatched, no-questions-asked blowjob until he fills my muzzle up.  Maybe I'll turn the tables on him and show him what else is in that toybox of mine.

But every once in a while, you just gotta' indulge.  Every once in a while, you just have to lay back with someone you trust and go with their flow.

Because sometimes it's okay to be selfish.