*This is an older story, but I think it will do quite well for a first submission. I hope you enjoy it, and please, let me know if you want to see Ivorhowl and his toy again!*
Ivorhowl Bonefang, Lord of the Wolves, and Alpha Male of the Wolven Army, led his prize up to his den, overlooking his wolves as they celebrated their victory over the Templar. They jumped and danced, and flamewolves lit massive bonfires. Howls and roars and growls all made their way up into the heavens, mingling in eerie, wild chorus.
Their celebrations were wild ones, rejoicing in the rush of battle and their resplendent victory by embracing those instincts which are most primal, those things most revered by the wolves. Mock battles were waged, great tales, many exaggerated, were told, with sweeping gestures and often loud sound effects.
Feasting began, the wolves tearing into carcasses both raw and roasted, deer, and elk, sheep, and many other creatures, all were devoured in mass by the celebrating wolves. Blood flowed and the tearing of flesh and cracking of bone mingled with the growing chorus of the wolves.
And, still filled with the wild spirit of the hunt, the raging desire of battle, wolves mated. Hard and fast, rough and tumble, as is the way with those who are wild.
Ivorhowl himself overlooked the spectacle, from atop the dome of the massive rock, in the shape of a wolf's skull, that made his den. He resided in his werewolf form for now, feeling that his newest pet would be more comfortable with a humanoid shape, but still wanting to retain the wolf within. Nearly eight feet tall, and five feet across at the shoulders, Ivorhowl was a massive, black-furred, muscled monster, his brown leather pants tight on his formidable frame.
In his lap was a neko, his chosen price for committing his wolves to the fight the Shadowman had waged against the Templar. He cared little for her actual name, and had already decided what to call her.
Little Kitten. She stood just below five feet tall, and though her curves were small, she flaunted them with ease and confidence. Golden blond hair and disarming blue eyes graced a pretty face with a mouthful of fangs. All of which now belonged solely to the Wolflord.
"See my wolves, Little Kitten? See how they glory in the kill, in the hunt? See how they celebrate our victory, and revel in the very fact that they are wolves?" There was pride in his voice, pride in himself and his pack.
"They are strong, my Lord, and very impressive..." the neko said quietly, rubbing her backside over her new master's groin. She had plans of her own, and had determined as soon as she learned of the Shadowman's transaction that she would be Lord Bonefang's favorite, and eventually Queen of the Wolves. Young though she was, she knew full well the best way to get into a man's favor. She smirked, feeling his large shaft swell beneath her.
Ivorhowl growled softly, feeling her shift and shudder over his powerful wolfhood. She was already enticing enough; must she tempt him all the more?
"What is it you are trying to accomplish, Little Kitten?" he asked her, his voice a deep bass, gravelly. The neko smiled up at him, a nymphet in the arms of a beast. She ground her rear over his hard wolf-rod once more, harder, and licked her lips.
"My Lord Bonefang, your wolves, they celebrate their victory before you! Is it not more right for you to take your prize first, to claim what is yours before all others?" She could feel the need building deep inside her feminine core already, her nectar beginning to stain the light blond fur at her crotch. She ground her ass harder over his wolfcock, wanting Ivorhowl to lose his control.
"I let my wolves partake in the celebration as and when they wish, and I will take you when I am ready," he replied evenly. "Would you really want me to take you right here, in the open, in front of all my wolves? Do you wish for them to see you so humiliated, on all fours before your Lord?"
The neko grinned, turning to face him in his lap, her hard nipples brushing against his chest, feeling the hard muscle and soft fur through her top. Not in front of them all, but on all fours before him; that was what exactly what she wanted. She dropped the straps on her thin top, revealing her small, round breasts to the wolflord. She guided his huge hands to them, let him feel her soft and supple skin.