Delinquent Student and his Pet Teacher

His body was tense, still pushing himself away from the white furry chest in front of him. His legs almost as weak as jelly and his face exasperated with confusion.

He watched Muerte breathe one strong breath before it turned into a calm and even pace. Puss gasps and all the tension leaves his body in a sudden rush. The wolf was asleep? What?!

Puss looked around, the hand still grabbing his rear was surely loose, the other hand barely laying on his own pants. Puss turned back to face him, he wanted to yell and punch him and yet he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want to ruin this by waking him back up. His paw lingered in the air for a moment, shaking as his body grew exhausted after this intense moment.

What was happening, what was he doing to him?! 

Puss stayed in the same position until he was sure that the wolf was deeply asleep. He then carefully moved himself off his body, making sure not to brush against anything that could wake him up. He fell onto the bed right next to Muerte, still eying him from his face to his– good grief, he was still hard even after falling asleep. Puss let his head drop onto the bed. His breath slowly caught up to him with his paw massaging his face. Something wasn’t right. He looked at his paws which were still shaking, all of this and all he did was sigh? Something wasn’t right.

After a moment had passed and the wolf was still asleep, Puss turned over to drop from the bed. 

But he couldn’t just leave now.

His paws held his eyes closed and he swore as silently as he could. The collar was still on him. It was still on and– he turned to the wolf, he was still bleeding. 

As Puss walked over towards the door he could feel it. He had already realised what was happening. Subconsciously he was denying it for so long but this? This right here? Made it as clear as day.

Looking for something in the kitchen he couldn’t deny it any longer. As he got some towels and a small bowl to fill with water he just stood there on the counter top. His head low with shame. 

He was the guilty one in this.

Puss had always loved a challenge that much was always true. He loved things that were dangerous, life threatening or things that could ruin it. He loved living a secret double life, always on the edge of being found out.

He loved the rush, the thrill, the adrenaline.

And this? It had been more than he ever bargained for, for sure. But this was a thrill he could never have gotten anywhere else. Nothing in life gave him such a rush, such a numbing feeling, such absolute ecstasy.

He didn’t run from this as much as he ran from these feelings, or anything else in life for that matter. He almost rushed into it now.

Surely, it was him that had successfully avoided death this whole time and he'd just as surely manage to do it again and again. He knew he could have done things that would have helped his outcome, but at times his body shivered with the anticipation of what the wolf could do next. His watching eyes on his neck gave him the reassurance of the next thing to come.

With his whole anger balled into a towel that he held, he threw it against the wall as hard as he could. He couldn’t believe himself. He was the same as he’s always been. He was just as insane as this damn wolf.

It felt like as soon as he knew that Muerte wouldn't kill him anymore, his whole body had already accepted its fate. How absolutely laughable was that.

Even the rape felt… No, it felt horrible. Terrible. He almost had to burn the clothes he wore that night. That much was sure.

And now it had messed with his brain even more. With as many days that had passed since then, he couldn’t count how often the thought of that wolf had made his body heat up and how often it made him throw up after acting on it.

And now here he was. Facing his feelings and having a complete breakdown over them as that damned wolf just sleeps in the next room. He had preferred if he just continued to deny these feelings.

—

Slowly Muerte felt his conscious return, the feeling of a damp towel on his face got clearer, it made him flinch and shoot awake. His arm moved faster than his eyes could see and he instinctively grabbed whatever was so close to his face. 

After his mind and eyes caught up he saw that the ginger cat was still in his lap, panic flashed in his eyes again with the wolf holding and stretching his paw away from him. Immediately the tension in Muerte relaxed again, sinking down into the bed he flinched and let go of the cat. The sharp pain in his side got his thoughts on this in a twist. His paw landed on the wound but instead of a sticky wet spot the wound was covered with a lot of patches stitching him together somehow. 

With a slight snarl his eyes snapped back and forth between Puss and his patched up wound, this wasn’t something he was used to, nor did he ever expect this to happen.

Puss watched his perplexed reaction. He was awake again, wasn’t that what Puss wanted? These were new reactions and responses, Puss couldn’t tell what the wolf would do next. Would he grab him again? Threaten him? Make fun of him? He didn’t know and that was exactly what caused his heart to beat with this immense intensity. 

Muerte leaned back, every small movement made Puss want to escape and flinch backwards, his paws landed on Muerte’s thigh and he noticed that he sat perfectly in his lap. The long deep sigh ended with the slightest chuckle, Muerte’s hand loosely fell on Puss’s leg, not even holding onto it and yet it stopped him from moving further away.

“Still here…?” He scoffs.

The slight open eyes fell on Puss and watched his desperate expression. “Are you sure you still want to run away from me?” The eyes flickered when he felt the cat’s claws dug into his leg. “Of course I do!” Puss yelled at him with his other paw raised to slap him, but instead he grabbed onto his collar. “Who wouldn’t want to run from such a crazy serial killer like you?!” He was mad that Muerte had asked him the exact thing he was too afraid to ask himself now, too scared of the answer, too scared that he might already know the answer.

Him laughing as he always did only made Puss even angrier, he was already done enough with himself and he knew Muerte was weakened. 

“And yet… Here you are…” He snapped and without thinking he had already swatted the wolf's snout away from him. “Don’t you dare…” The wolf seemed stunned by what just happened. It took him a second before he was sure how to react to the cat’s absolute puzzling behaviour. His paw glides over the small scratch on his snout, watching the cat’s expression grow more and more desperate out of the corner of his eyes. Would you look at that absolutely delightful expression on him. Oh, what had he done to the cat for him to stick around like this? If it had been anyone else they would have already left long ago, or died trying.

He felt validated in his thought that Puss was different. Different from the other cats he had met.

Puss just watched the wolf’s hand grab onto his chin and jerk it upwards. His breath stuttered, it almost reminded him of being strangled again and the wolf’s head came closer and closer. His nose brushed against his cheek and made him wince. “You’ve got blood on you, gatito.” His tongue followed quickly and Puss could feel himself flush with embarrassment. He continued to lick up the apparent spot of blood on his cheek while he still held onto his chin. Oh no, no, no, Puss could still feel the wolf’s eyes on him even when he avoided looking at him, making it impossible for him to deny his reaction. 

Now the licking of his tongue was even closer than it was before, actually brushing over his cheek, reaching his ear, wandering down to his neck. “Why don’t we just continue then?” The wolf pulled Puss's very embarrassed face closer and closer, just by the tip of his finger under his chin.

This young wolf being able to sway an older cat like him so easily, so seemingly effortlessly. Just what is it that made the wolf treat him like this, so cruel and yet still keeping him alive, just to play with him? 

“Do you…” The deep smoothness in his voice made Muerte perk up, but he didn’t stop the nibbling on his shoulder in the slightest. “…actually…” Leaning over the wolf’s chest now, Puss still chewed on his words, being unsure on how and if he wanted to say this. “Do you… even want me dead?” His tiny paw brushed against Muerte’s chin to seem like he wanted to brush him off, but there was no actual strength in his pushing. 

The question made Muerte stop for a second, he leaned back just slightly to get a better look of the avoidant cat. “Dead?” The word almost came out as a laugh, as if he wanted to laugh at him for even asking. His eyes unmoving from him, he grabbed the cat's lower body whole and pushed it onto himself. Puss could feel that instead of getting less hard in the time he had slept, his erection just stayed strong, if not even worse than before. 

Now there was actual force behind his paws trying to push himself away from the lap he was sitting on, only to be met with the bared teeth of an open mouth almost closing around his neck. “Wouldn’t that be too easy?” With his head tilted, the wolf’s tongue now licked strongly over Puss’s chest all the way up to his chin leaving a wet trail of saliva on him. The feline's chest moved up and breathed in strongly with the motion of his tongue. The breath stayed in him until the tongue left him, but with Muerte biting onto his collar instead he couldn't breathe out nor relax his breathing. Quite the opposite, it became quite frantic, harsh, troubling. After a few seconds he looked back at Muerte with his head still pointed up and away from him.

He didn’t know how to interpret his own reaction, he just felt his wet shirt and wanted it gone instantly. The back button over his tail opened and his pants together with his underwear sprang open with one swift motion of Muerte’s claw. His fingers reached into them quite easily and now just like before his fingers slid over the base of his tail down his crotch reaching his front. Puss grabbed onto Muertes other paw, which still tightly held onto his leg, and dug his claws in deep. His whole body itches and tried to move away from it and yet he couldn’t, the pull of the wolf was too strong to fight it.

The sudden sensation on his naked skin below numbed all other senses in his body. He knew it, after what Muerte had done to him something in his body seemed broken. The wolf couldn’t help himself and licked over his teeth again and again, just slowly letting go of the collar and moving to lick the cat’s ear instead. Puss was now leaning onto Muerte’s chest, barely able to hold himself up, one paw dug into the wolf’s chest fur, the other still clung into the white paw that held him into place. The circling motion of the wolf’s finger made his pants move visibly, Puss watched it as he desperately tried to stop himself from feeling any of it. His breath audibly shivered so strongly as he pushed down the urge to gasp. His eyes shut tightly. The sensation was getting unbearably strong and without thinking he slowly started to dig his teeth into the white fur.

Muerte started to feel Puss’s sharp teeth biting into his chest, were these attempts to stop him or to hurt him? Either way he found them quite adorable. Muerte could feel the intense wetness his fingers spread around Puss’s holes, he felt the liquid drench into the cat’s underwear as well and grew quite hungry. His finger dug in deeper and deeper until Puss dug his teeth into his chest just as deep in return. Too close to his wound, it made him flinch and stop what he was doing. As soon as he removed his finger and his hand from the cat’s ass, his bite loosened on him. The wolf saw the substance on his finger and pulled Puss up by the collar to make him look at him, just so he could watch how he licked it all up. “So wet for me, gatito?”

Puss just wanted to sink into the floor at this point, wishing he’d just take his life instead of humiliating him again and again. Murte’s hands moved back onto his behind, trying to rip his pants open as much as he could, so he could reach better underneath. The wolf’s breathing grew harsher and deeper, so deep that his humming almost sounded like a growl. Puss could feel the hunger he exuded and felt his own grow. 

He felt Muerte trying to push past him, to get his own pants open quickly. Being pushed upwards, Puss was almost making way for him, he too wanted him to hurry up, it seemed. His throat so tense that he could barely breathe, he wanted to bite into his own paw just to snap out of it. To run again, to stop the wolf, anything. But what was the use if his own damned body called for this to happen so strongly. 

Before he knew it, Muerte’s erection had already tasted fresh air for just a second before it got shoved into the opened back of Puss’s pants, immediately touching the wet and sloppy holes of him. A satisfied and intense humming left his throat, but Puss on the other hand jerked up in a panic. He could feel something wanting to come out in his throat, the shock, the panic, the heavy disgust, it was all too much and it wanted to come out of him, now.

He held his mouth closed and tried to swallow all of this as much as he could. Everything in his body was in a twist, in pure chaos, he didn’t know what to do, the only thing he knew was that Muerte wouldn't let this night end without this happening.

While Puss was fighting over whether to let it happen or to vomit on the spot, Muerte was relishing in the feeling of Puss’s wet warm skin on his. He wanted to feel more of it and pushed in further, but his sloppiness only made him sink into the cat’s pants instead, sliding against him, in and out. 

With the stunned trance that he was in, Puss took a moment before he could feel that Muerte’s hand had shifted to slightly stroke over his back, a single finger gliding over his neck over and over until it started to play around with the collar around his neck. 

“You want it gone, don’t you…?”

The slight humm in his voice, the demanding slow pace of him rubbing against Puss, his words giving Puss enough reason to just let it happen instead of fighting it. The need to throw up had subsided but now his throat tensed up with the feeling of shame and the need to cry. The feeling got worse and worse until he realised that it was Muerte pulling on his collar. Before he knew it he already sat up straight, looking directly into the wolf's eyes.

“Entonces sé un buen gatito para mí…” 

His paws were just barely grazing the white fur now, his eyes fluttering closed again after a second. He knew what he wanted, he knew what he had to do to get rid of the collar. He knew since they had been in this room.

Their hands meet on the collar, Muerte had won the fight in the cat’s head without much effort. Almost as if he had forgotten everything else that had happened, Puss shifts his hips making the wolf’s eyes widen in fascination. He was doing what he wanted him to do, without much threat nor the need of a blade to his throat or anything. Stunned at first he watched how Puss moved himself into the perfect position for Muerte to slip right into his hole. Puss inhaled sharply and almost let out an audible sob while the wolf couldn’t help himself and reeled back with the feeling of warmth now surrounding his tip. It didn’t take him long until he pushed Puss onto himself, sliding in only halfway until he felt resistance. 

Too overwhelmed with how eager his own body was, Puss couldn’t move much, feeling immediate pleasure accompanied with an intense sting of shame. 

The wolf’s hand moved again, to slip underneath his dark shimmering shirt, ripping the buttons open with its size. Holding the cat’s torso now, his thumb strokes over the cat’s chest fur as he moves himself slightly out of him again. Puss knew what was coming next, but no matter how much he prepared himself for it, Muerte ramming himself back into him was just too much. He immediately continued with a strong and fast pace. Puss tried to hold onto Muerte’s paw so he wouldn’t get too shaken up. The wolf seemed to have been desperate for this to happen as well with how much he immediately dug in, not paying attention to anything else now, completely taking in the feel of being inside Puss.

The pace slowed again and a sharp pain started to remind Puss of just how big the wolf was, who tried to push himself further into him. Not knowing if Muerte would even fit any further inside, he tried to endure the pain, his claws so close to dig into Muerte’s paw again.

Small huffing growls leave the wolf’s throat, his growing impatience made him pull back out only to hammer back into Puss again, trying to get himself in fully. Each time he does so, Puss can feel him hitting a spot inside of him that he desperately wished he wouldn’t. Barely being able to hold himself up now, only staying in place with the wolf’s paw holding onto him, his mind grew hazy, his lust overcoming him. The paw that held onto Puss moved to quickly push the cat onto himself instead, he wanted to be inside him completely so badly. Puss fell over and onto Muerte’s chest, getting one last glimpse at that expression of his. He still seemed too calm for how needy he moved, his face only showing traces of his desperation. 

The pain grew unbearable for only a moment too long until the wolf was able to finally shove himself in completely. Hitting places inside that have never been reached before, Puss feels the overwhelming hot sensation pouring all over him as the air almost gets pushed out of his lungs. He gasped for air, everything else in his body felt numb, Muerte’s satisfied laugh and the few words he spoke were just a faint sensation next to the intense feeling of his whole stomach being filled. 

Muerte watched the overwhelmed cat drool on his chest fur with just as much pleasure as he felt being inside of him. 

Now he was sure of it, now that he could just use the cat like this, he had broken something in the cat's mind. Proud of his work he huffs and continues to watch intently as he gets back into motion, shaking the gatito up quite a bit.

Puss couldn't believe how the only thing in his head now, was about how he had thought about this, no, fantasised about this happening. After so many days of not knowing when or if he would do this to him. Subconsciously that had been the thing slowly breaking him down.

And now that it was finally happening, just the feeling Muerte throbbing inside of him without even moving was already overwhelming him and sending him over the edge. He was fighting to not immediately reach his climax, but good lord, was the wolf pushing all the right buttons inside of him now with his movement. As soon as he thought about what was actually happening, Muerte’s thrusting became slower but so much stronger and all of it sent Puss rushing right into his own orgasm.

Muerte felt him tense up around him, squeezing him so tightly. Unsure of what it meant and overwhelmed by it, he stops only for a second before he picks up the pace even more. Puss having no chance to suppress his voice now, gasps and whines with each thrust, it was all too much in the middle of his climax. He was getting way too overstimulated almost to the point of it being painful. He’s already started to mindlessly bite into Muerte’s chest again, this time even harder than before, tears slowly emerging in his eyes as he drew blood in the wolf’s skin. 

Thrusting in relentlessly, Muerte enjoyed the twitching inside of Puss way too much and now that he saw him crying through squinted eyes, there was no way for him to stop now. Watching the cat sob and whine into him made the pain that accompanied the view feel so incredibly weird that he had to grab onto the cat again. He pushed Puss onto himself so strongly as if to push his knot into him, even if there was no way for it to fit. Being so close to the edge now, he winced with the pain of the cat’s claws now accompanying the bite, thrusting slow but deep. Oh, how much he wanted to push that knot into Puss before he came, but it didn’t fit and he felt himself cumming inside him either way.

The wolf let out a loud huffing growl with each throb and each surge of liquid. Puss felt himself loosen his grip on the wolf as the motion stopped, but the liquid filling him up made him wince and almost drag his claws down the wolf’s belly.

Everything grew still and quiet. Only their heavy breaths fill the air.