Sit down and think

With the small-but-satisfying breakfast inside him, Duncan stretches his muscles and then finds a rock where he can sit. He contemplates how different this morning would be if he were back at the Palace. Now that he is of age, he would have a full day at the Library under MacTavish’s dictatorial teaching. On the other hand, he would have woken up in a soft, warm bed, and there would have been no question about how to address his morning horniness. It never would have occurred to him to question whether his latest conquest would try to kill him, transform into an animal, or do anything other than her proper purpose — to empty his balls and satisfy his morning cravings.

Now, dressed only in a makeshift poncho, he sits on a rock and surveys his surroundings. Nominally, he is a prince in the great royal line that rules everything he sees. In reality, he doesn’t even know which way to go to get back home. As he considers the Lupucite women, he has to acknowledge there is much about this kingdom that he does not know. His first eighteen years have been spent being pampered and pursuing whatever seemed pleasing to him. In terms of actually learning about Mirantia, he gave that little importance. That was Stewart’s job, after all.

With a sigh of regret, Duncan wishes he had paid more attention to the lessons about the history of this magical land. In the past couple of days, he learned the hard way about the Felechon, black widow women, and batshit-crazy flesh eaters. It occurs to him that the common theme in his encounters with each of these creatures has been that his cock his gotten him in trouble. Had he approached any of them with a proper understanding of what he was dealing with, rather than looking for a way to get his rocks off, he wouldn’t be in the mess he is in now. He soberly acknowledges that this is the case and makes a mental note to think with his head instead of his balls from now on — or, at least, until he is back home and safe.

“I hope I am not disturbing you.”

Duncan jumps, startled at the unexpected voice. He turns his head and sees Luxia approaching. Her padded feet allow her to approach him with scarcely a sound. The light from the sunrise makes her red fur particularly lustrous.

“Not at all,” replies the prince. “I was just thinking and admiring the view.”

Inwardly, he pictures Luxia the way she was when she was laying beside him when he woke up. He remembers the way her long red hair came down over her scrumptious-looking breasts, and the way that her lips parted slightly, as if inviting Duncan’s tongue to enter in and taste the sweetness of her tongue.

He shakes his head, trying to dash the thoughts out of his mind, remembering that this sort of thinking is what got him in trouble in the first place.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asks the wolf.

“No, Your Highness. I merely wanted to stand guard, to insure your safety.” Her eyes look him over. If she sees him with any degree of sexual desire, her canine eyes do not betray her thoughts. Duncan tells himself that she undoubtedly got the message from her mother that she should not be entertaining such notions about him. Even so, the realization that her tongue was so recently freely roaming all over his body brought an instant rise to his already-aroused cock. He shifts uncomfortably, but grateful that the loose-fitting poncho does not bring attention to his uncontrolled anatomy.

Luxia sits on the ground next to Duncan, her body against his leg. Even if he were not turned on by this mysterious woman, he would have to fight the compulsion to reach out and stroke her fur. It looks so soft, shiny, and inviting.