Edited by Over_Red
*********
Master had roused him and his colleagues before dawn. They had piled into the vehicle and sat as still as they knew He liked them to sit. That was always a hard task for them, but that morning, it was harder still. Master was tense. He didn't like it when Master was tense. His colleagues didn't like it either. It made them all nervous, though they did their best to hide it.
Master took them to a new place, strange and dour. It reeked of fear and misery. They soaked it in. The feel of the place, the smells, the sounds, the tiny flickers of motion in the trees that surrounded it. There were many traces to pick up. Most were fresh, some were a day or two old. Master had them ignore the fresh ones and focus on the old ones. Over and over again, they walked every inch of the search area Master set out for them, picking up the traces. Over and over again, they wanted to quit. There were too many traces to pick up. Too many to keep track of. Master's will kept them at it. It drove them on until they scoured the place and picked up every trace there was. Each of them held all the traces in their minds.
Then the people came out of the big house and Master had them match the traces to every person that walked past them. It was the strangest and most unnatural thing he had ever done. It flew against every instinct he had. His instincts told him to hone in on a single trace and follow it to its source. Master's will was there, hurrying him along, so he let go of his misgivings and did as Master bid him to. Soon, he realized that Master's bidding was, in fact, a search. They were whittling away the multitude of traces until only the one Master wanted remained and then they would follow it to its source.
Once he and his colleagues understood that, they relished their task. They charged at the people and picked up their traces to eliminate from their memory. Master had them slow down, lest they sent their quarry running, so they settled for sneaking up behind the people and evaluating their traces from a slight distance. By the time the sun rose to its high point, they had eliminated most of the traces and felt glad for the accomplishment.
The bitch came to Master's aid. He could feel her gratitude and affection for Master, but she was too old to bear Him pups. He could tell that from her scent. Still, he liked that bitch and her tiny, nervous underlings. They weren't with her then, but they were always loud in their fears. They ran prettily, too. They always reminded him of something he couldn't quite recall but made him feel at ease with himself. He would delight when Master let him chase them down, one after the other. He would catch them and then box them in and keep them in an area, before letting them run free and then boxing them in all over again. That was such fun.
The bitch sat with Master in His vehicle and they looked at a flat box with changing lights. Then he and his colleagues got in the vehicle and Master took them across town. He didn't like going places in the vehicle because he would never know where he was in relation to home once they disembarked. That was quite unsettling, at first. Master would never lead him astray, he knew. He'd never leave him in a strange place, unless He had a purpose for him there, so he eventually grew complacent with the rides. His colleagues were still a little uneasy at not feeling the ground beneath their paws as they traveled, but Master had taught them to disregard that feeling, just as He had taught him.
At every location they went, they found one or two traces and eliminated them from their list. The bitch left them and the sun came down low on the horizon. Master drove them back to the spot from that morning. More traces had been refreshed since they had left and Master had them eliminate those from the list, as well. They waited patiently as people came and went and they picked up each trace to eliminate from their list. In the end, they wound up with just two traces.
Master's enemies. Their prey.
Master had them think on those traces over and over again, dissecting them with their noses. One was of a man grown, the other of a young bitch in her prime. Master had them focus more closely on the man's trace. The man had eaten bacon that morning and his skin smelled of spiced sausage and musk, with just a hint of vanilla. They memorized that scent all over again. Fixated on it. It was their target. Master instructed them to always be on the lookout for that scent. For their prey. They obeyed. The bitch's scent was of less concern to Master, but He had them all keep her scent in mind, too, and look for it.
Master moved them to a new home that night, filled with new noises and smells, but they hardly noticed. They obediently settled into their new territory, after thoroughly marking it, and sat as their predatory minds churned The Scent over and over. Nothing else mattered, Master instructed. Seek The Scent. Find The Scent. Identify The Scent. Bring Master to The Scent. The Scent worried The Master and so it worried them. They feared it, just as Master feared it. They stood guard, sniffing the night breezes, discerning each smell they carried and looking for The Scent.
Master was in the house, mounting His bitch. He could hear her high-pitched mating calls through an open window.
The thought of The Scent coming here and hurting Master, or His bitch, made his heckles rise. Bloodlust started coursing through his veins and each of his breaths came out growling. As he looked across their new home, his colleagues looked back at him. Each of them was bigger than him and younger and stronger, but they all followed his lead because Master willed it so. He knew his colleagues felt the same way he did.
He sat down in his guard spot and looked up at the moon. It was nearly full. Instinct, or memory he never even knew he had, compelled him to break Master's oldest orders. He opened his snout and let out a low growl that slowly grew into a loud wail. His colleagues joined him in his oath. They looked up at the moon and swore to find The Scent. They swore to hunt it down and kill it for Master.
As their angry wail rang out, he could hear others nearby responding nervously to the ferocity and bloodlust in their oath. They professed their submission with subdued voices. He ignored them. Only The Scent mattered.
******
Jack rolled off Mia, gasping for breath. He had gotten into the habit of letting her ride him, since she seemed to draw energy from sex, rather than get drained by it, like he did. Tonight, however, he had fucked her, pounding her into the mattress with strong thrusts of his hips. He wanted to baptize their new bed with their combined juices. He intended to anoint every room of their new residence in the same way. Mia was definitely happy with the idea. She had gone to a gynecologist and gotten on the pill earlier that day, so they would be free to keep going bareback and not worry about getting her pregnant. He had read somewhere that the pill did stuff to women's sex drives, but that didn't matter at all. Her arousal wasn't ruled by her hormones anymore.
He looked out the window. Had the dogs howled while he fucked her? He had been so focused on her succulent lips and the silken vice of her pussy that all he could hear had been her moans of ecstasy. She pressed her hot body, damp with fresh sweat, against his and all thoughts of the dogs left him. He put his arm around her shoulders and sighed. Her hand moved slowly over his torso, tickling his skin as it snaked ever closer to his groin.
"Not now," he said. Her hand stilled for a moment and then glided up to hug his opposite shoulder. She put her head into the crook of his near shoulder and squirmed a little as she draped a leg over his and settled in. Being naked within his eyesight, or in his arms, she'd still feel the religious guilt she had been raised with and her arousal would spark from it. However, his no would stop her from making love to him, so she would settle for just cuddling. He didn't mind that in the least. Her firm breasts were pressed into his chest and her smooth thigh was inches away from his wet, limp dick. He could feel her hot wetness against the side of his hip.
He wanted to fuck her again. He just needed to get his breath back.
He had spent the day at the mental health facility Shauna Patrick had been in. He had taken his dogs there and managed to identify the scent of the evil mentalist that had turned her into the new cloaked figure. It had been a long, tense day, whittling away the multitude of scents that were present around the clinic until they had the right one.
Mia, on the other hand, went to the gynecologist and then spent the rest of her day moving them into this new house. They both came lightly packed and the furniture was already here, so she hadn't had all that much to do.
Which is why she's purring next to me, while I'm still gasping for breath
.
