GUARDIAN | Blue

Under the oppressive weight of a summer afternoon, the world panted. Plants sagged and curled. Heat shimmered in sheets over the earth like sweat along dry skin. Cicadas pulsed in the trees, erratic heartbeats for a sweltering landscape desperately trying to settle. Blue panted along with it all. He had sought shelter in the shade of a sprawling tree, but its shadow provided little relief when he was busy making his own heat.

His breath came out stilted and hot into {user}’s hair, each inhale embedding his bare back with the texture of the tree behind him. It was a rough embrace compared to the pliant, welcoming form before him. He had one arm locked around {user}’s front to keep their bodies connected, all sticky skin and sticky need that made every movement feel honey-thick and sensual. His hands roamed, hips rolled, chasing a heat that had nothing to do with the sun.

He couldn’t recall how they’d ended up here—didn’t really care, either, not with {user} tucked up against him and that heady, warm skin scent in his lungs.

They weren’t far from one of the barns, a stagnant, feathered eye of a windmill witness to their coupling, but their surroundings were barren of any real life. The opposite would have made no difference to Blue. He wasn’t planning on stopping until he had what he wanted, any scoldings or onlookers be damned. For once, he had intentions in mind that didn’t involve bending {user} over.

He ran his hand along {user}’s stomach, circled {poss} navel with a light touch meant to tease and coax out shivers despite the heat. Every little swathe of skin was a potential, a challenge to see if he could touch just right, if he knew {user} well enough to make {obj} squirm or sing. It gave Blue a particular kind of satisfaction to witness his influence, to know that he could take care of {user} and make {obj} feel good in ways others couldn’t—or rather that he wouldn’t allow others to. It was only right that he knew the intricacies of the demi-human he guarded so dearly.

He thought, besides teeth marks, there was no better indication of possession than the knowledge of how to make someone quiver and whimper.

His ghosting fingers drifted upward, plucking the divots of ribs before settling on a nipple and thumbing at it until it hardened. Wanting to admire his work, he snagged the hem of {user}’s shirt and tugged upward, gathering the fabric into a mess of folds and creases that he pressed to {user}’s mouth.

“Hold,” he murmured. “Good.”

He offered a hum of appreciation at his new vantage: the rise and fall of {user}’s ribs and stomach dappled by shifting sunlight, the sheen gathered there by the stifling day. Had he not already given in to temptation, it was a sight that would’ve enticed him.

He abandoned the nipple he was tormenting and migrated back down to palm {user} through {poss} clothes. The rising, tangled scents of their arousals made his breath come out a little harder, made him pull {user} against him a little tighter. His cock was aching in the cruel confines of his jeans, but this was a torture of his own making, and he only allowed himself a grind to soothe the ache. He wanted to see this to the end. Wanted his prize.

“Leaking yet?” he asked.

He breached the layers keeping them apart and cupped {user}’s sex possessively, the sensation of that warm, intimate flesh in his hand making his hips rut forward. The seam of his jeans dragged over the sensitive head of his cock, and a coarse groan strained from his throat, a sound that betrayed the full extent of his hunger, but he stifled it. Directed its source into {user}’s body. Touching, pleasuring.

“Want you to come for me, make a mess in your underwear.” His hand worked faster. He wanted to hear the wet, filthy sounds of {user}’s need, wanted to feel {poss} arousal on his hand. “And when you’re done, you’ll take them off right here, let me keep them in my pocket.”

He lapped a stripe up {user}’s neck and followed it with a graze of his teeth, nipping just hard enough to leave traces of himself. The hand braced around {user}, locking them together, rose to play with {poss} nipples once more, attempting to wring out every little bit of pleasure.

“Come on,” he coaxed, the words rough and hot. “Be good for me.”

The house was quiet. Day had come and gone, and evening yawned over the ranch, cricket song swelling to life as daylight’s residents settled down. Blue’s room was thick with a similar sort of hush, the curtains drawn, corners shadowed, shapes limned hazy by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Only the occasional moan and creak of the bed disturbed the stillness.

Blue lounged against the headboard, legs spread, {user} atop his lap and full of his cock. He licked into {user}’s mouth, slow and filthy, as that tight heat pulsed around him like a second heartbeat. This was one of the only reasons he came home at night. He didn’t need a bed or walls or a roof, but the wide, night-drenched pastures couldn’t provide him the intimacy he craved.

His cock throbbed within its living confines as if trying to remind him it was there, to tempt him to use the tight heat so sweetly embracing him, but he was unhurried despite the warmth pooling low in his gut.

He broke their kiss, thumbed away a glistening strand caught between them. Through dark, hooded eyes, he admired the way {user}’s lips gleamed like something honeyed in the low, yellow light. Everything was gauzy, a little dream-like, and his arousal was a syrupy thing that seemed to cocoon around him. It was a stark change from his usual fervent need to rut like an animal.

“Pretty,” he murmured. “Could fall asleep like this, you keeping me warm.”

He gripped {user}’s ass, large hands splaying over plush flesh. Their shadows on the wall followed along, another pair of lovers, merged and indistinct. He kneaded, the touch almost possessive. Had he not liked seeing {user}’s face so much after a long day, seeing all the little expressions {sub} made as Blue filled {obj}, Blue would have positioned {obj} much differently.

Hands still full of that supple flesh, he coaxed {user} to rise off his cock. It slid out slowly, a languid pull that had his crown dragging just right against inner walls, and he held {user} in place before he could slip out completely. The sticky essence of their bodies cooled along his shaft, but his tip stayed snug and leaking inside.

He lowered one hand and circled the slick seam where their bodies joined, teasing the threat of adding a finger alongside his cock. He loved how well he stretched that tight hole, how well it yielded to him. An instinctive clench drew a guttural hum from his chest, and he gripped higher, hands spreading over hips, leveraging and steadying {user}’s body as he sank back in, inch by thick inch. He bottomed out with an exhale and tilted his hips upward, settling himself deep and snug.

“No better place for you,” he said. “Can keep you close. And once my knot locks...” He leaned in, mouth skimming {user}’s neck until soft breath and soft lips turned to sharp teeth, his canines sinking in and leaving tender impressions that he nuzzled at. “No getting away till it’s ready to come out.”

It was Sunday on the ranch. God’s day. A day of rest, if there even were such a thing at Split Tail. While the devotees were at service, and the weekday hands were away, Blue was still working out in the pastures. Not resting was just fine by him. In fact, he was perfectly happy being an atheist. Otherwise, he might have buckled from gluttony-induced shame as he fucked {user} in the dirt for the third time that day.

His collar jingled with each of his thrusts, an innocent sound turned lewd when accompanied by the wet smack of flesh meeting flesh and his grunts and growls against {user}’s neck. The afternoon sun clung to his back like warm, possessive hands, making the skin there just as heated as the point of contact between him and {user}.

He had one arm wrapped around {user}’s waist, the other braced beside {poss} head, forcing {user} backward onto his cock with every thrust, reveling in the way {poss} ass jiggled. Each upstroke jerked {user} forward and made Blue’s teeth tug at the hot flesh of {poss} neck.

The scent of crushed grass lifted up around them, sweet among the musk of sex, the tufts that had been spared their weights tickling Blue’s inner thighs and making him clench, but the only sensation he cared about was the tight, wet heat around his cock.

It was never enough. He hadn’t been so fervently horny since he was a teenager—the days when he humped about whatever he could get his paws on. But {user} did something to him, and it wasn’t even just about the pleasure. He liked the claiming. The possession. He had never been good at sharing, and seeing {user} around other demi-human dogs, smelling strangers on {poss} skin, made Blue itch. Made him want to reinforce his existence.

Andy, lenient as he was, was still human, and he didn’t appreciate Blue marking his territory in or around the house. Such a verdict left Blue to demonstrate the evidence of his existence directly on {user}’s body, and he didn’t care if anyone witnessed it happening.

He unlatched from {user}’s neck and dragged his tongue along the damp skin, lapping over the blooms of color he had left there. Each time the two of them crossed paths, he bent {user} over, mounted {obj}, and added another pretty blossom to {poss} neck. Blue was thorough, taking {user} from the front and back to ensure both sides were marked up. He anticipated Andy scolding him for the rough treatment, the man being soft on {user} and all, but Blue thought he should have been grateful. He was letting everyone know who {user} belonged to.

He slid a hand under {user}’s chest and drew their bodies closer together, chest pressed against back, spine cradling stomach. His tongue found {user}’s ear, tracing the edge of it, departing with a sloppy, absent lick before he nuzzled into the nape of {user}’s neck.

“Smell so good,” he murmured, voice thick. The praise was followed by a zealous thrust that elicited another grunt from him.

He inhaled deeply, pulling that familiar scent into his nose, letting it sit on the back of his tongue. It made his teeth ache. Coerced him into latching down again, fangs meeting flesh. His knot throbbed and swelled as the heat in his gut wound tighter and tighter, and every breath came out through his teeth in ragged huffs that dampened {user}’s skin. A snarl of both restraint and pleasure twisted his face, and he pulled out before the ecstasy could spill over.

He took his weight off and splayed a hand over {user}’s back, using his other hand to hook under {user}’s leg, pulling it aside to allow himself a good view of that well-fucked hole. He nudged it with his cockhead, smearing the mess they had created, his cock twitching all the while, begging for completion.

In slow, savoring glides, he slid back and forth through the crease of {user}’s ass, stopping when he was properly settled, his knot nudging asscheeks. He wept precum onto {user}’s tailbone, the sticky substance dripping down to mix with the sweat along the arch of {poss} back. The sight nearly made Blue groan.

“All mine.” He smeared it in with his palm, kneading firmly as if he could work his essence into {user}’s muscle. “Won’t let anyone forget.”

He slid his hand down to {user}’s hip, gripping possessively and making flesh dimple, leveraging {user} back as he thrust forward. A hiss flew from his lips as he nearly passed his threshold, the sound melting into a moan as his cock pulsed, drooling out another strand of precum.

“Want to come all over you. Make you wear it. Make you smell like me.”

Both his hands settled on {user}’s hips then, holding {obj} in place as he panted above, head bowed and stomach taut in an effort not to release.

“Gonna cover you in it,” he rasped. “Tell me. Tell me where.”

Blue twitched a fly away from his ear. The far cattle pasture was sun-warmed this time of day, and he sat sprawled within it, cradled by the rustling grass as insects hummed and flitted about. Though he tended to guard the animals closer to the ranch, not all days followed the same pattern, and he was content to fulfill his purpose all the same.

Cows grazed around him, swatting away flies. Some clustered near, others mottled the distance. A heifer lay beside him, caught in the same viscid, midday stupor he was. Her nose was wet and gleaming in the sunshine, her long lashes cast low over her eyes. With everything calm, he offered his eyes a break from the horizon and watched a ladybug crawl along her back.

It was a windy day, his hair ruffled up like feathers. The sweat left on him by the cloudless sky dried cold. Riding on the breeze were the smells of livestock, sweet grass, pine, and something distinct and familiar that made his ears perk and his listlessness immediately melt.

{user}’s scent.

He pushed himself to his feet, face already lifted, eyes already scouring his surroundings. His first instinct was to look toward the dirt road beyond the pasture fencing, but it was near the treeline where he found what he was looking for. A familiar form traveled along the edge of clustered pines and deciduous trees, the forest’s shadow just barely licking at {obj}.

His tail wagged. He moved without thought, but when he realized what he was doing, he stopped.

The herd. His job. He couldn’t abandon his duty.

Fettered by his dedication, he watched from where he stood, brow furrowed as he squinted against the sunlight and strained against his self-imposed tether. The sight of {user} alone, this far out from the ranch, made something inside Blue stir. It worried at him like something that needed itching, tending to. A lamb needing herding back to its mother.

It would’ve been easier if {user} were a lamb. Blue could sling {obj} over his shoulder, put a little bell on {obj}, keep {obj} safe and in sight far easier. But fantasies were fantasies for a reason.

He didn’t realize how intensely he had been watching until a cow came up behind him and licked his elbow. He flinched and sniffed at the animal before returning his focus, traitorously, to what he cared about most. Nothing inside him—the part that was naturally inclined to guard and care—was convinced that {user} wasn’t also his to protect and keep from straying.

He gave one final glance at the herd and started for the trees.

Green, bristled tops swayed in the wind as if beckoning him. Grasshoppers leapt away from his feet as he disturbed the grass with his stride. When he couldn’t help himself any longer, when that final bit of restraint drained away, he broke into a jog. He didn’t call out. Just came up behind {user} and gave {obj} a soft bump.

“What’re you doing?”

Blue maneuvered to stand in front of {obj}, putting himself between the demi-human and wherever {sub} had been headed. A silent request to stop, to stay. His eyes roamed as if {user}’s exterior could somehow answer his questions.

He wanted to reach out for {poss} hand, to just guide {obj} somewhere that wasn’t here—somewhere closer to Blue, where he could keep an eye on {obj}.

“You’re making me itch,” he mumbled.