Dominic was just beginning to drift into a serene haze, the rhythm of Briar’s steady breathing lulling him into a blissful daze, when the door to the room swung open with an abrupt thud against the wall.
“What the fuck?”
Robbie’s voice, loud and incredulous, shattered the tender atmosphere. Dominic’s ears flattened as his eyes snapped open, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. Briar, still tied firmly to him, let out a long, low growl—not in anger but in exasperation.
“Robbie,” Briar muttered, turning his head slightly toward the door, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement. “Can you knock like a normal person?”
Robbie leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. He was, as usual, completely naked, his lithe frame glowing in the soft light of the room. “Dude, I thought you were getting destroyed in here. That banging? I figured it was Dom giving you what-for. But this?” His gaze drifted downward, taking in the scene before him: his big brother knotted deep in Dominic, their bodies still locked together in the aftermath of passion.
Dominic buried his face in the mattress, groaning loudly. “Robbie, please.”
“What?” Robbie said with mock innocence, sauntering further into the room. “You’re the one letting my brother breed you like a bitch in heat. I’m just here for the show.”
Briar groaned, dragging a paw down his face but making no effort to untie. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re tied,” Robbie shot back, his grin widening. “Good job, big bro. Didn’t think you had it in you—literally.”
Dominic lifted his head just enough to glare at the younger wolf. “Robbie, do you mind?”
““Not at all,” Robbie said, laughing. He crouched down near the bed, his tail wagging as his gaze darted between Dominic’s flushed face and Briar’s still-pulsing knot buried deep inside him. “Gotta say, Dom, you look good like this. Relaxed. Satisfied. Completely ruined.”
He sniffed the air exaggeratedly and wrinkled his nose with a teasing grin. “Bruv, everyone’s always giving me shit about my room being a a little rank, but this room? This room smells like sex and jizz. Who knew fox nut smells so different from wolf?” Robbie leaned in closer, his mischievous grin widening. “How many loads did you drop, Dom? Because I swear I can smell every single one of them.”
Dominic spluttered, his fur bristling. “Robbie, for fuck’s sake—”
“Hey, hey,” Robbie interrupted, holding up his paws in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, you’re handling it better than I thought. Briar’s knot isn’t small. Hell, neither is his cock.” He smirked. “How’s it feel, Dom? Finally getting the full wolf treatment?”
“Robbie,” Briar growled warningly, but there was no real bite to it.
Robbie ignored him, leaning closer to Dominic with a conspiratorial grin. “Bet you didn’t think you’d end up tied today, huh? Certainly not to this big lug. But hey, props to you for taking him all the way. That’s impressive.”
Dominic, flustered beyond belief, tried to stammer out a response, but nothing coherent came. Instead, Briar reached back and swatted Robbie’s shoulder. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Get out.”
But Robbie wasn’t done yet. He cocked his head, his grin turning wicked. “Wait, wait, I gotta know—did you two flip fuck? Because I swear it sounded like Dominic was pounding your cakes so hard earlier that it was making the whole house shake.” He mimicked Briar’s voice, letting out a high-pitched moan. “‘More fox cock! Please, Dom, ruin me!’”
Briar’s ears flattened, a deep blush blooming under his fur as he groaned. “Robbie, I’m going to murder you.”
Dominic, equally mortified, buried his face in his paws. “Can we please not?”
Robbie cackled, slapping his knee. “Hey, no shame! That’s teamwork, baby. Verse couples are my favourite kind anyway.” He reached out, ruffling Dominic’s fur playfully. “Good job, fox. My brother’s been waiting years for this, and I gotta say—you delivered. Seriously, though, you took that big fat wolf jock dick like a champ. That thing’s massive, bruv. Hell, most guys would’ve tapped out halfway, but you? You just went all in.” He smirked, his tail wagging. “Kinda impressive, honestly.”
“Robbie!” Dominic and Briar snapped in unison, their voices overlapping.
“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Robbie said, holding up his paws in mock surrender. He headed toward the door but paused before stepping out, glancing over his shoulder with one last smirk. Then, to Dominic’s surprise, Robbie bent down, his muzzle brushing against Dominic’s in a quick, playful kiss. “Oh, and Dom? Welcome to the family.” With a wink, he straightened up and strolled out, his tail wagging mischievously behind him.
With that, he disappeared down the hallway, the door swinging shut behind him. The room fell into an awkward silence, the only sounds the muffled hum of the house and the quiet, rhythmic pulsing of Briar’s still-active knot.
Dominic groaned, burying his face in his paws. “I hate him.”
“No, you don’t,” Briar said, chuckling as he nuzzled the back of Dominic’s neck. “He’s just… Robbie.”
Dominic sighed, his tension slowly easing as Briar’s warmth and presence grounded him once more. “Still. Could’ve done without that.”
Briar laughed softly, his paws stroking gently along Dominic’s sides. “You’re part of the Whitten household now, babe. Better get used to it.”
Dominic muttered something incomprehensible into the mattress, and Briar kissed the back of his neck, his knot still locked snugly inside the fox. For now, all they could do was wait, tangled together, as the intensity of the moment gave way to quiet intimacy once more.
For twenty minutes, Dominic stayed beneath Briar, pinned and utterly filled. Every few seconds, he could feel another pulse of warmth deep inside him, another gush of thick wolf cum flooding his insides. He swore he couldn’t take anymore, that his fox body was beyond capacity, but his friend—no, his lover—kept going. The weight of Briar’s body felt perfect on top of him, grounding him as he adjusted to the aftershocks of their intimacy.
The flow of cum began to slow, each pulse weaker than the last, until finally, Dominic felt Briar’s knot starting to soften. “Briar,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “I don’t think I can take anymore.”
“You already have, babe,” Briar murmured, nuzzling into the back of Dominic’s neck. “You are so full of me now. ”
The wolf’s knot continued to shrink, and with a final gentle tug, it popped free with a wet, lewd sound, leaving Dominic gasping. A rush of hot cum followed, gushing from his ruined hole in a slick flood. He instinctively tried to clench, to hold it in, but his muscles wouldn’t obey, too stretched and spent to close around the empty space Briar’s cock had vacated.
“Fuck,” Dominic groaned, shivering as Briar slid out of him completely. He felt profoundly empty, his hole fluttering uselessly as wolf cum dribbled out of him in steady rivulets. “Gods, I already miss it,” he admitted, half to himself.
Briar chuckled softly, pulling Dominic into his arms and kissing his temple. “That’s normal. First time always leaves you feeling a little hollow.” He ran a paw down Dominic’s back, his touch soothing. “But I gotta say, you took me better than I ever imagined.”
Dominic snuggled into Briar’s chest, letting the wolf’s strong arms envelop him. For a moment, everything felt right. “How long were we tied?” he asked, his voice muffled against Briar’s fur.
Briar glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “Seeing as it’s… 6:30, probably about half an hour.”
“6:30!” Dominic bolted upright, wincing as his body protested the sudden movement. “Fuck. I didn’t realise it was so late.” He scrambled to his knees, his thighs trembling from the exertion. “Briar, I have to go. I’m so sorry to fuck and run, but my brothers are coming home, and if I’m not there for dinner…”
Briar leaned back on his elbows, watching Dominic’s frantic movements with an amused smile. “Relax, babe. You’ve got time. But yeah, you probably don’t want to keep Eleanor Reeves waiting.”
Dominic groaned, fumbling for his discarded clothes. “No, I definitely don’t. But fuck, Briar…” He paused, turning to look at the wolf sprawled on the bed, his fur damp with sweat and his cock still glistening with their combined fluids. “Thank you. For everything.”
Briar’s smile softened, his golden eyes warm. “Anytime, Dom. You know that.”
As Dominic bent down to grab his trousers, he paused, a sudden sensation making him freeze. A slick warmth dripped down his thigh, and his ears flattened against his skull in mortification. “Oh my gods,” he muttered, standing upright and clenching instinctively. “Briar, I’m leaking.”
Briar stifled a laugh, clearly trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. “Well, yeah, babe. That’s kinda what happens after, you know…” He gestured vaguely toward Dominic’s rear.
Dominic shot him a glare. “This isn’t funny! How the fuck am I supposed to get home like this without leaving a trail? I can’t exactly explain wolf cum stains to my mother!”
Briar finally gave up and started laughing, the deep rumble of his amusement shaking the bed. “Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Here’s what you do: run to the loo and shove a wad of toilet paper between your cheeks. It’ll sop it up long enough to get you home.”
Dominic stared at him, his mouth agape. “That’s your solution? Toilet paper?”
“Got a better idea? Unless you want me to walk you home and explain to Eleanor exactly why you’re dripping—”
“Okay! Okay, fine!” Dominic cut him off, his cheeks burning. “Toilet paper it is.” He opened the door checking to see if anyone was watching, muttering under his breath about stupid wolves and never doing this again.
“Love you too, babe!” Briar called after him, still grinning like an idiot.
Dominic bolted towards the bedroom, his thighs trembling with every step, his body thoroughly reminded of Briar’s knot. He clenched instinctively, but the slick warmth of wolf cum still dripped down his thighs, tickling his fur in ways that only deepened his humiliation. Toilet paper. This is what my life has come to.
Behind him, Briar lounged lazily on the bed, his fur damp and his cock still half-hard, glistening with their combined fluids. “Better hurry, babe, or you’ll end up leaving a little ‘Briar was here’ trail all the way home,” he called out teasing, his golden eyes gleaming.
As he entered the loo and leaned against the sink, he caught his reflection in the mirror: fur ruffled, cheeks flushed, and the scent of sex clinging to him like a badge of honour. “Gods,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. He grabbed a generous wad of toilet paper and, after a moment of hesitation, bent over, his tail lifting reluctantly.
The first press made him wince, the damp mess reminding him just how thoroughly Briar had knotted him. He adjusted the wad, pressing it snugly between his cheeks, grimacing as it soaked up the evidence of their fun. “Briar, you fucking arsehole,” he muttered.
Dominic left the loo, his makeshift wad of toilet pad uncomfortably wedged between his cheeks. Every step was a reminder of just how much Briar had knotted him, the wolf’s cum still seeping despite his best efforts to contain it. “I swear to the Gods, Briar,” he muttered under his breath, his tail flicking with embarrassment and as he adjusted his pants.
As Dominic passed Robbie’s room, his nose twitched, catching a bit of the overpowering scent that made his fur bristle and his steps falter. It was thick, musky, and charged with something primal. He stopped, his ears perking despite himself, twitching toward the closed door. The air was heavy, the scent curling around him like an unwelcome whisper.
Through the door, faint noises reached him—laboured breathing, rhythmic and slick. Each sound seemed to vibrate in the quiet hallway, too deliberate to ignore.
Dominic’s heart sank. No. Fucking. Way.
Against his better judgement, he crept closer, his paws silent on the floor as his ears strained to pick up more. The noises sharpened: the wet slap of a paw against fur, a low growl, and then—
“Fuck,” the teen groaned, his voice thick, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “Briar, you lucky bastard. That tailhole…”
Dominic’s blood turned to ice, his ears flattening as his tail clamped tightly between his legs. Mortification hit him like a freight train, the scent and the words fusing into an awful, humiliating realisation. Robbie’s pawing off to us.
A fresh wave of arousal-scent wafted into the hall, making Dominic choke as he stumbled back. It clung to his nose, thick and inescapable, as if the hallway itself was alive with Robbie’s unfiltered lust. He bolted, his paws thudding softly against the floor as he raced to put distance between himself and the scene unfolding behind the door.
When Dominic finally returned to Briar’s room, his fur was bristling with second-hand embarrassment and lingering humiliation. Briar was waiting for him, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His golden eyes gleamed with mischief as his nose twitched.
“All sorted?” Briar asked, his tail flicking lazily behind him.
Dominic glared at him, his cheeks blazing. “Robbie’s wanking. To us.”
Briar froze for a split second, then let out a bark of laughter so loud it echoed through the den. His tail wagged wildly, and his grin stretched wide enough to show off his sharp canines. “Oh, fuck, that’s hilarious. You must’ve really put on a good show.”
“I hate your entire family,” Dominic hissed, his ears pinned flat.
“Sure you do, babe,” Briar teased, pulling him close and licking a slow, deliberate stripe up his cheek before nuzzling him. “Sure you do.”
As Dominic descended the stairs, his legs still trembling and his body sore in ways he wasn’t entirely prepared for, a wave of nervousness hit him. Based on Robbie’s comments, the whole house could hear them fucking. There’s no way Briar’s parents didn’t hear us, he thought, his ears flattening against his head. The musky scent still clinging to his fur and the slight wobble in his step were probably dead giveaways. His tail twitched nervously as he stepped into the den.
Fuck! The thought slammed into him as he caught sight of Mr. and Mrs. Whitten, standing there in all their naturalist glory. They know. They fucking know. They probably heard every second. His cheeks burned as he tried to compose himself.
Mrs. Whitten’s warm smile only made the moment more surreal. She stepped forward with an elegant ease, her lithe, curvaceous figure catching the soft evening light. Her breasts—full and perky—moved slightly as she reached out to embrace him, and Dominic froze as her soft, warm fur pressed against his shirt. He couldn’t ignore the brush of her nipples against his chest, no matter how hard he tried.
“Dominic, dear!” she greeted, pulling him into a tight hug. Her scent was intoxicating, a mix of lavender and something inherently feminine and wolfish. Her golden eyes sparkled as she pulled back, brushing a strand of fur from his face. “You’re always welcome here, sweetheart. Never forget that.”
Dominic swallowed hard, his cheeks burning furiously. “Th-thank you,” he managed to stammer, his voice barely above a whisper. Great. Now I’m hugging my best friend’s mum, and she knows I just got railed by her son.
Then his gaze shifted to Mr. Whitten, and his stomach flipped. The older wolf’s sheer presence was intimidating. His tall, broad frame exuded confidence, and his chest was dusted with grey fur that tapered down into a trail leading to his sheath. It was large, fitting for his size, and his low, heavy balls swayed slightly as he stepped forward. Dominic’s eyes darted away, but the image was burned into his mind.
Mr. Whitten placed a paw on Dominic’s shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of Dominic’s head. “Thank you,” he said, his deep voice resonating with sincerity. “You’ve made my son a very happy pup today. And if you ever need anything, know you’ve got a home here too.”
Dominic’s heart raced as he nodded, his throat too tight to form words. His inner monologue was a whirlwind. How the fuck do I respond to that? He knows. They both know. Do they talk about this as a family? Is this just normal for them? And what the hell do they think about me?
As Dominic turned toward the door, Mrs. Whitten’s warm voice called after him. “Drive safe, Dominic!” she said with a genuine smile.
“Will do,” Dominic replied, his voice shaky as he stepped outside. The crisp evening air hit him like a slap to the face, grounding him in reality. What the fuck just happened? he thought, his cheeks still burning as he walked to his car. I just hugged a naked Mrs. Whitten, got kissed by Mr. Whitten, and left their son upstairs leaking fox jizz while his load steadily streams out of my arse. This is my life now, apparently. Classy.
Dominic gripped the steering wheel tightly, his claws tapping against the leather as the car purred down the road. The late afternoon sun bled into the horizon, washing everything in hues of orange and red. The warm colours were at complete odds with the storm raging inside him. His arse clenched involuntarily around nothing, though he immediately regretted it—Briar’s cum was still oozing out of him, seeping into the wad of toilet paper stuffed awkwardly in his pants.
Fuck. I’m leaking wolf jizz. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat to his cheeks. He squirmed in his seat, the sticky sensation making him uncomfortably aware of how stretched and hollow he felt. He didn’t know if it was the emptiness left behind by Briar’s massive cock or the absence of Briar himself, but either way, it gnawed at him. How am I supposed to sit through dinner with my parents and brothers like this?
The car hit a bump, and Dominic hissed, the sudden jolt sending a wet squish through his trousers. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he growled under his breath. He could feel the sticky, warm mess spreading further, soaking into the fabric. His body still ached, his muscles worn out from being worked over so thoroughly. But it wasn’t just the soreness—there was something else, something deeper. A longing. An ache. The need to be filled again.
“Get a fucking grip, Dom,” he muttered, shifting his weight and wincing as another wet squelch echoed under him. The scent of wolf cum clung to him, faint but undeniable. His ears twitched at the thought of walking into the Reeves household, stiff and proper as always, reeking of sex and drenched in the evidence of what he’d been doing all afternoon. The contrast was almost laughable. Almost.
He couldn’t help but think back to the Whittens. That house—so normal from the outside, tucked neatly in a suburban neighbourhood like a postcard—had been nothing short of chaos and warmth inside. Robbie’s unapologetically messy stink pit flashed in his mind, the funk of sweat, cum, and wolf musk so thick it practically choked him when he walked in. And the kid’s so fucking proud of it. Dominic smirked despite himself, recalling the smug grin on Robbie’s face when he’d caught Dominic staring at the mess.
But Robbie wasn’t just chaos; he was something else too. Bold, brash, annoyingly endearing. The way he’d invited Dominic into his world without a second thought, from their paw-off to barging in on him and Briar mid-fuck. Gods, that kid’s got no boundaries. Dominic thought of Robbie’s smirk, his obnoxiously casual comments, his playful digs about fox cum smelling different from wolf. He rolled his eyes, though the ghost of a grin tugged at his lips. Little shit. But… kinda sweet too.
Then there was Mrs. Whitten. Dominic’s cheeks flushed hotter. Fuck. The memory of her soft, motherly voice and her very naked, very shapely body pressed against him made his sheath twitch. Her hug had been far too warm, far too intimate. Her plush breasts brushing against his shirt, the smell of her fur—a faint mix of lavender and femalely musk—lingered in his mind. Gods above, Dom, pull it together.
And Briar. His best friend. His anchor. The way Briar had held him, kissed him, fucked him—it had been nothing like the hurried, clumsy fumblings Dominic had with Claire. It was deliberate, gentle but possessive. Every thrust, every kiss, every whispered “babe” felt like it meant something. It made Dominic feel… whole, in a way he didn’t know he was missing. The wolf’s deep, commanding voice echoed in his head: “You’re mine now, Dom.”
His heart raced at the thought of what he’d left behind. The Whittens had accepted him so easily, without judgment or expectations. Naturalists, comfortable in their own fur, warm and inviting. Godsdamn, what the hell am I even going back to? His family couldn’t have been more different. Cold. Uptight. Rigid.
Dominic’s stomach churned as he thought about walking into the Reeves household, prim and proper, smelling like a brothel. Paul and William are going to be there. Paul, his eldest brother, was practically a carbon copy of Eleanor. Stiff, judgmental, and utterly unbearable. William, at least, was tolerable, but even he had a way of getting under Dominic’s skin. They’d all sit around the polished dining table, talking politics and pretending to be the perfect family, while Dominic sat there, literally dripping wolf cum, a secret pounding in his chest like a drum.
The car slowed as he neared the long, winding driveway leading up to the Reeves manor. The imposing house loomed ahead, all sharp angles and pristine perfection. Home sweet fucking home, Dominic thought bitterly, gripping the wheel tighter. His tail flicked nervously as he parked the car and cut the engine.
He sat there for a moment, staring up at the house. His sheath twitched again, reminding him of the mess in his pants and the cum still leaking out of him. The gaped, hollow feeling returned, making him clench instinctively, though it only made the wet squish worse. Fucking hell, Dom. Pull it together. You’ve faced worse than this.
With a deep breath, he opened the door, the cold evening air hitting him like a slap. He adjusted his scarf, straightened his jacket, and prepared to face the icy reception waiting for him inside. But as he climbed the steps, he couldn’t help but glance back at the car, at the road leading away from here. I’m coming back, Briar, he thought, his lips curling into a small, defiant smile. I’m not done with you yet.
Dominic stepped through the grand front door of the Reeves home, the heavy wood creaking faintly as it shut behind him. The warmth of the house was immediate, but it was anything but welcoming. The cold, distant scent of polish and citrus cleaner filled the air, sharp and sterile, a far cry from the cosy, lived-in musk of the Whitten home. He glanced down at his trousers, feeling a faint squish as he shifted his weight. Fuck. I reek. I should’ve taken a shower. Godsdamn it.
The faint murmur of voices carried from the dining room down the long, immaculate hall. His ears twitched as he strained to pick up snippets of conversation—his mother’s sharp, authoritative tone punctuated by Paul’s smug agreement. They were already deep in discussion. Politics, no doubt. He took a quick glance at the grandfather clock standing sentinel in the hall. The ornate hands read 6:59. One minute. Shit. No time for a shower now.
He pulled at his scarf, loosening it as he moved towards the dining room. The polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft golden light of the chandeliers above, the faint echo of his footsteps filling the vast space. Portraits of ancestors long gone lined the walls, their stern faces watching over him with silent judgment. Everything about this place screamed wealth and tradition, but to Dominic, it just felt suffocating.
As he approached the dining room, his heart sank. The table was already set, the crystal glasses sparkling, the fine china gleaming under the light. His family was seated at their usual spots: his mother, Eleanor, at one end, talking animatedly with Paul, her eldest son, who looked like he belonged in a political campaign ad with his neatly combed fur and pressed blazer. Snippets of their conversation reached Dominic’s ears as he hesitated in the doorway.
“…a disgraceful display of pandering. These so-called ‘progressive’ policies are tearing apart the moral fabric of our community,” Eleanor was saying, her voice dripping with disdain.
Paul nodded, his tone just as sharp. “Absolutely, Mother. It’s emboldening all the wrong kinds of people. We need to stand firm against this… nonsense.”
Dominic’s stomach turned, a familiar heat rising in his chest. He didn’t need to hear more to know exactly what they were talking about. His eyes flicked to the other end of the table, where his father and William, the middle brother, sat in quieter conversation. His father, Garrett, looked up as Dominic entered, his expression neutral but tired, as if bracing for whatever disruption his youngest son might bring.
The room fell silent as Dominic stepped fully inside. The clinking of utensils against plates ceased, and all eyes turned to him. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he slowed his pace, feeling every inch of scrutiny. Eleanor’s nose wrinkled immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took him in.
“Ugh,” she said, her voice dripping with derision. “I hate the way you come back from that Briar’s house smelling of wolf. It’s like they don’t bathe or something over there.”
Dominic froze, his ears flattening against his skull as heat rushed to his face. He could feel the scent of Briar clinging to him, the musk of sex, the faint undertone of cum, and it made him want to disappear. Fucking hell. Could you not, Mother?
Paul chimed in, ever the dutiful eldest. “She’s right, you know. It’s unseemly. You’re part of this family, Dominic. You should hold yourself to higher standards.”
Dominic’s gaze flicked to his father, silently begging for backup. Garrett met his eyes briefly, then gave a subtle shake of his head, as if to say, Drop it. It wasn’t worth the fight. It never was.
“I… I’m sorry,” Dominic said quickly, his voice tight as he tried to suppress the frustration bubbling under his skin. “The time got away from me. I didn’t have a chance to freshen up before coming in.”
He moved to greet his brothers, starting with Paul, who rose stiffly to his feet. They exchanged a firm handshake, the kind that was polite but devoid of warmth. It was the first time they’d seen each other since the summer solstice, but Paul’s expression was impassive, his posture formal. Dominic fought the urge to roll his eyes. Same old Paul.
Then it was William’s turn. The middle brother stood and pulled Dominic into a hug, far warmer and more genuine than Paul’s handshake. But as William leaned in, his lips hovered near Dominic’s ear, and his voice dropped to a whisper only the two of them could hear.
“You don’t just smell of wolf musk,” William murmured, his tone laced with amusement. “You smell like wolf cum, baby brother. What have you been up to, pup?”
Dominic’s entire body stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. His tail tucked instinctively as his mind raced. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. The words hung in the air between them, teasing and impossible to ignore, but William’s tone had been maddeningly even, his expression perfectly neutral. There was no smirk, no gleam of amusement in his eye—just an intense gaze that gave nothing away. Dominic couldn’t tell if it was curiosity, judgment, or simply observation, and that ambiguity made it all the worse.
William pulled back from the hug as if nothing had happened, patting Dominic’s shoulder lightly. “Good to see you,” he said aloud, his voice calm, polite, and utterly devoid of any indication that he’d said something so incriminating.
Dominic managed a weak smile, his heart pounding as he moved to his seat. What the fuck was that? Does he know? Does he… fucking know? He fumbled with his napkin, trying to focus on anything but the lingering tension coiling in his chest. His mind raced through every possible implication of William’s words, but his brother’s neutral expression offered no hints, no clues.
As the cook began serving the first course, Dominic squirmed slightly in his chair, the slick, slippery feeling of Briar’s cum still leaking out of him a constant reminder of what he’d just left behind. His face burned with embarrassment, but when he dared a glance at William across the table, his brother’s face was impassive, his attention seemingly focused on his meal. It was maddening.
What does he know? Does he care? Or is this all in my head? Dominic’s thoughts spiraled as he tried to eat, but the tension in his body remained, coiled tight as a spring. The only thing worse than William knowing was not knowing what he intended to do about it.
The clinking of silverware against fine china filled the dining room, the symphony of polite refinement masking the oppressive weight of the room. The Reeves’ dining room was a shrine to opulence—polished oak stretching the length of the space, velvet drapery framing tall windows, and the glow of an ornate chandelier casting everything in a warm, golden light. The air itself seemed heavy, perfumed with roasted lamb and Eleanor Reeves’ ever-present sense of superiority.
At one end of the table, Eleanor and Paul dominated the conversation, their voices clear and pointed. “The lack of morals these days is truly appalling,” Paul said, gesturing with his fork as he spoke. “Members of parliament engaging in… those acts, caught red-handed, and still refusing to step down. Scandals that should ruin careers are now barely a blip on the radar. And their voters keep bringing them back. It’s like there’s no shame left.”
Eleanor’s lips curled into a tight, approving smile. “It’s the sign of a decaying society. No standards, no decency. People have become afraid to call out depravity for what it is—afraid of being labelled intolerant. It’s disgusting.”
Dominic gripped his fork, his appetite long gone. Their words grated on him, each thinly veiled insult cutting deeper than the last. He squirmed in his seat, unable to find comfort with the slick sensation of wolf cum still leaking from his arse. Fuck. The toilet paper he’d shoved between his cheeks was soaked through, utterly failing to stop the warm trickle that made his tail curl in embarrassment. He could feel it pooling against the fabric of his pants, a humiliating reminder of the afternoon spent tied to Briar’s cock.
Across the table, William’s eyes were locked on him again, unreadable and unwavering. Dominic felt the weight of his brother’s gaze and forced himself to look down at his plate, poking at the food he had no intention of eating. Does he know? He can’t know. But fuck, it feels like he knows.
Garret, seated across from Eleanor, finally spoke, cutting through the tension with an easy warmth. “Dominic, I heard about your oboe recital last week. Your mother said it was quite the performance.”
Dominic forced a smile, grateful for the change in topic. “Thank you, Dad. It went well.”
Garret nodded, his tone proud. “The campaign team thought it might make a nice interest piece for the local paper. A story about your talent reflecting your mother’s dedication to supporting the arts.”
Dominic’s smile faltered, but he caught it before it slipped completely. Of course it’s about her. Everything’s about Eleanor Reeves and her godsdamned campaign. He nodded politely, muttering, “If it helps, I’m happy to do it.”
As the main course was served, the rich aroma of roasted lamb wafting through the room, Dominic’s stomach churned. He wasn’t sure if it was hunger, the residual stretch of Briar’s cock, or the suffocating atmosphere of his family, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He pushed the food around his plate, the utensils scraping softly against the fine china. His mind drifted back to the Whittens—their warmth, their chaos, and their openness. Gods, even Robbie busting in on us mid-knot felt more genuine than this shit.
Eleanor’s sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I hope you didn’t spoil your appetite eating whatever those wolves might have fed you.”
Dominic froze, his cheeks burning. The only thing I ate was Briar’s hole, he thought, a flicker of a grin tugging at his lips before he caught William’s gaze again. His brother’s intense eyes were still on him, and Dominic swallowed hard, forcing a response. “No, I didn’t have a meal there. I’m just not feeling very hungry tonight.”
Eleanor sniffed, her disdain palpable. “It’s no wonder you smell like them every time you come back. Honestly, Dominic, it’s revolting. Wolves have no sense of decorum, no sense of hygiene. It’s like they revel in their filth.”
Dominic’s ears flattened against his skull, his stomach flipping as heat crept up his neck. Fuck. She has no idea. If she knew what I’ve been doing with Briar, she’d fucking combust on the spot.
Paul chimed in, his voice clipped and self-righteous. “She’s absolutely right. Wolves have never been suited for proper society. They lack refinement, decorum, even basic civility. It’s as if they revel in their filth and vulgarity. That’s how it starts—with a disregard for decency—and it only spirals into perversions and other depraved acts. Look at parliament now: members flaunting their degeneracy, unashamed and emboldened. Is it any wonder society is crumbling around us?”
Dominic’s stomach turned, a cocktail of anger and shame bubbling inside him. He wanted to snap back, to defend Briar and the Whittens, but the words lodged in his throat. What the hell could he say? Calling them out would only put a target on his back—or worse, on Briar’s. His ears flicked back, and he looked down, pretending to focus on the lamb he had no intention of eating. The squelch of cum-soaked fabric against his skin made his tail twitch, humiliation blooming in his chest. Fuck, Briar, you really did a number on me. He clenched instinctively, but his body was too sore, too stretched to comply. He bit back a groan, his blush deepening as he caught William’s gaze once more.
William’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable as he leaned toward Garrett, murmuring something low enough that Dominic couldn’t catch it. Garrett’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at Dominic, his mouth tightening before he cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the oppressive conversation.
Garret cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the oppressive conversation. “Dominic, are you feeling alright? You’re awfully quiet tonight.”
Dominic hesitated, the knot in his chest tightening. “I think I’m just a little tired,” he said finally. “And my tummy hurts.” He paused, glancing at his father for approval. “Would it be alright if I excused myself?”
Garret studied him for a moment, his concern evident, before nodding. “Of course, son. Go rest.”
Dominic stood, forcing a polite smile as he addressed his brothers. “It’s nice to see you both. I hope we’ll have a chance to catch up before the solstice celebrations.”
Paul barely glanced at him, his attention still on Eleanor. “I’ll be busy campaigning with Mum,” he said dismissively.
William, however, leaned back in his chair, his eyes still locked on Dominic. “I’d like that,” he said, his tone calm but unyielding. “I’d very much like to catch up and hear more about what you’ve been up to.”
Dominic’s breath hitched, his stomach twisting as his brother’s words lingered. Fuck. What does he know? He nodded quickly, murmuring a goodbye before hurrying out of the room, his heart pounding as another wet trail of Briar’s cum dripped between his thighs.
Dominic pushed the dining room door shut behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he let out a long, ragged sigh. The oppressive atmosphere of the table felt like a lead weight lifted from his shoulders, but the tension still coiled tightly in his chest. His tail flicked nervously behind him as he stood there, trying to gather himself. The stench of judgment and bigotry still clung to him, stronger than the scent of wolf musk and sex he had hoped no one would notice.
Fuck me. His ears flattened as he straightened and began the slow ascent upstairs, the plush carpet muffling his steps. The house was too quiet now, save for the faint murmur of voices from the dining room below. His mother’s voice, sharp and sure, carried in fragments, but he didn’t want to make out the words. He’d heard enough.
Paul’s such a prick now, Dominic thought bitterly, gripping the banister as he climbed. His older brother had always been uptight, but tonight had felt different—worse. He couldn’t believe the things Paul had said about Briar’s family. About wolves in general. And Mum? Gods, she was just as bad. Maybe worse. The way they spoke, so comfortable in their superiority, so certain they were right. It made his fur bristle.
He paused at the top of the stairs, his shoulders slumping. Why can’t he be like Robbie? Fucking Robbie, of all people. He snorted, the thought almost making him laugh. Yeah, he’s crazy, and yeah, his room smells like a godsdamned locker room dumpster fire, but at least he’s honest. At least he’s fucking chill.
And Mrs. Whitten. Dominic felt his ears burn as he thought about her warm embrace, her softness, her kindness. She wasn’t just kind; she radiated it. She’d made him feel welcome, made him feel like he belonged. When was the last time Mum hugged me like that? Dominic shook his head, biting back the resentment that bubbled up. The Whittens weren’t filthy, or disgusting, or lesser—they were just… different.
Why is different so bad?
He sighed again, running a paw through his fur as he padded down the hall toward the loo. The tension from the dinner table was slowly giving way to another, more immediate concern: William. His middle brother’s intense, unreadable gaze had been burning into him all night. The way he’d leaned in during the hug, the words he’d whispered—Dominic shivered at the memory. Wolf cum, he said. What the fuck does he know?
Dominic felt a pang of anxiety twist in his chest. William was always harder to predict than Paul. If Paul was ice, William was water, constantly shifting, adapting. But that made him more dangerous, too. He could slip through cracks, find things no one else would. What’s he going to do? What’s he going to say? Fuck. I can’t deal with this.
He reached the loo door, gripping the handle tightly, and decided then and there he needed to wash the day off him—literally and figuratively. A hot bath would help. The soothing water could ease the soreness in his body and rid him of the physical evidence before William could corner him again. He was still sore from Briar, the dull ache in his rear a constant reminder of the wolf’s size and power, and the thought of sinking into steaming water made his tail flick with anticipation. But as he pushed the door open, an unfamiliar, intense gurgling sensation low in his stomach made him freeze. He winced, placing a paw on his abdomen as his gut rumbled ominously. Oh, no. What now? His tail drooped as he stepped inside, the warmth of the room doing little to ease the discomfort building in his middle. The bath would have to wait. Right now, he had another pressing need.
As he lowered his trousers and boxers, he cringed. The wad of toilet paper he’d shoved there earlier was completely soaked, barely holding itself together under the sheer weight of the cum it had tried—and failed—to contain. His arse and thighs were slick and wet, glistening with wolf jizz, the heavy, musky scent of it filling the loo like an oppressive fog. Fuck me, he thought bitterly, peeling the sodden mass away and tossing it into the trash. His fur was matted, sticky, and coated with the aftermath of Briar’s relentless breeding. It clung to him like a badge of shame—or maybe pride, depending on how he looked at it.
Dominic groaned as he settled onto the toilet, his tail lifting automatically. Gods, he thought, this is my first dump after getting railed with 25 centimetres of wolf cock and that godsdamned knot to boot. His insides still felt… off, like Briar had rearranged every organ in his lower half, and he wasn’t sure if they’d ever go back to where they belonged.
He hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his paws. Please, just let this be normal, he thought. A quick shit, in and out, and then I can get my bath. No way am I letting William come looking for me like this.
But instead, the moment he relaxed, a loud, wet fart ripped through the loo, echoing off the tiled walls like a cannon blast. Dominic’s eyes widened in horror as his ears pinned flat against his head. Godsdamn it, no fucking way!
The fart was followed by a slow, sticky gurgle deep in his gut that sent a rush of warm fluid spilling out of him. Dominic froze, his claws digging into his thighs as the hot, viscous liquid dripped into the bowl beneath him with an obscene splorch. He bit down on a groan, his whole body tensing at the bizarre sensation. What the fuck is even happening to me right now?!…Holy shit, he thought. That’s not me—
“That’s … that’s fucking Briar,” he hissed aloud, his ears flattening harder against his skull as another gush slid out of him. “Fucking wolf stuffed me so full I’m leaking all over the godsdamn place.”
The noises were horrendous—wet and loud, each squelch and plop making him cringe harder than the last. His hole twitched involuntarily around nothing, so loose and stretched that it felt like it wasn’t even his anymore. Every contraction of his muscles sent another slick wave of cum sliding out of him, and he could feel it clinging to his fur, coating everything it touched.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, leaning forward as a particularly loud splat hit the bowl. His claws raked down his thighs, and he muttered, “This is so fucking gross. What the hell did you do to me, Briar?”
He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the ache in his arse pulse with every movement. His body was sore in ways he hadn’t even realised were possible, and the steady stream of cum pouring out of him was almost too much to handle. Each gush felt impossibly warm, an intimate reminder of just how much Briar had filled him, and the sheer volume of it was mind-boggling.
How the fuck does one wolf make this much cum? he thought, glaring at the loo tiles as if they held the answer. Is this normal? Do wolves just… nut gallons or something? Fucking hell.
Another wet fart escaped him, followed by a flood of cum that left his thighs sticky and his tail twitching behind him. Dominic buried his face in his paws, muttering, “Gods, kill me now.” His hole felt like it was still gaping, stretched so wide he wasn’t sure it would ever close again.
The sensation was mortifying and weirdly satisfying at the same time. Every contraction felt like it was dragging another piece of his dignity down the drain, but there was something undeniably intimate about it, too. I’m fucking leaking Briar’s pups, he thought, his cheeks burning. He bred me so godsdamn good my body can’t even hold it all in. What the fuck, Dominic?
He leaned back against the toilet tank, staring at the ceiling as another wet squelch echoed beneath him. “This is my life now,” he muttered to himself. “Leaking wolf cum and farting like a broken bagpipe. Fucking brilliant.”
The warm, sticky sensation of the cum sliding out of him was almost hypnotic, and he couldn’t help but imagine Briar’s cock buried inside him again, filling him all over. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he let out a low groan as another gush spilled out of him.
“Godsdamn it,” he muttered, running a paw through his fur. They really should warn you about this shit. Like a pamphlet or something. ‘So You Got Fucked By a Wolf: A Beginner’s Guide to Not Feeling Like a Leaking Dumpster.’ He snorted at his own ridiculous thoughts, though the sound quickly turned into another groan as his body spasmed again.
Dominic sat there for a few more minutes, catching his breath as the steady flow finally began to slow. The ache in his rear was still there, a constant reminder of how thoroughly Briar had wrecked him, but the stream of cum dripping out of him had reduced to a sluggish trickle. He grabbed the toilet paper, muttering curses under his breath as he tried to clean himself up.
Godsdamnit, they don’t warn you about this in secondary school Sex Ed, he thought bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut as a small, wet fart escaped him. The sound echoed loudly in the loo, and Dominic’s ears flattened, his face burning. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, teeth gritted.
His ears flicked as he stood, a sticky, heavy sensation still lingering between his legs. He sighed, rubbing his face with a paw. “Gods, this is ridiculous,” he muttered. “Fucking ridiculous.”
Dominic leaned back slightly, gripping his thighs as another slow, humiliating dribble of wolf jizz seeped out of him, splashing into the water below. He groaned, his ears flattening against his head as the scent of Briar’s cum seemed to grow even stronger. Godsdamn him, Dominic thought with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. I hope his arse is leaking fox cum just as much as mine is wolf jizz.
The mental image of Briar walking around, equally messy and desperate, made him snort, though he quickly realised it wasn’t likely. Briar wasn’t just bigger in length; his knot had been a behemoth, stretching Dominic in ways he hadn’t thought possible. And that wolf jizz… fuck me, Dominic lamented, staring at the glistening remnants of Briar’s load on his fur. There’s no way I shot this much inside him. Not fair. He pouted, his tail flicking weakly against the toilet seat.
The thought made him smile, though, despite the ridiculous situation. Maybe I’ll ask him later. Compare notes or something. But if he isn’t waddling around just as wrecked, I’m gonna call bullshit.
Dominic’s tummy had finally started to settle, the awful gurgling and wet farts tapering off. He sighed in relief, wiping his arse and tender hole gingerly, wincing at the sticky sensation but grateful to find nothing but jizz on the tissue—no blood, no shit. Thank the gods for small mercies, he thought as he tossed the final tissue into the bowl and flushed. The swirl of water carried Briar’s “pups” down the drain, leaving Dominic feeling strangely lighter.
Still, despite cleaning himself, there was no denying that he was still leaking. The faint, sticky trickle from his well-used hole had him groaning. Fuck me, how long is this gonna last? He stood and stretched, his muscles still sore and his arse uncomfortably slick, before bending over the bathtub to adjust the water temperature. The hot steam began to rise, and he reached for the faucet, ready to sink into the bath and wash away every trace of this embarrassing day.
Suddenly, he froze.
A paw pressed firmly against his lower back, and another swiped deliberately along the cleft of his messy arse. Dominic gasped, his entire body stiffening as he whipped around, his heart racing.
William was standing behind him, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as he lifted his paw, inspecting the sticky fluid coating his finger.
“I knew I smelled cum on you,” William said smoothly, his voice low as he held Dominic’s gaze. Without hesitation, he brought the finger to his mouth and licked it clean, his tongue dragging slowly over his fur.
Dominic’s ears burned, his stomach twisting into knots as he tried to process what was happening. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even move as his older brother gave him a knowing smirk.
“Yup,” William said after a beat, his tone light but with an edge of something darker. “Wolf jizz, just as I thought.” His gaze drifted down Dominic’s naked body, then back to his flushed face. “Seems like you’ve been a very naughty pup, baby brother.”