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Berries and Dogs

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"Are you ready?" Arthur asked. Merlin smiled at the hunting dog, scratching it behind the ears. The dog yapped, pleased. Merlin extended one hand under its nose. The dog licked it, slick tongue lapping eagerly, slipping between Merlin's fingers when he spread them.

"Yes,” Merlin breathed.

This was their routine talk now. Every time they did this, Arthur would ask and Merlin would confirm whether he's still in. If every thing is in place but Arthur doesn't ask, or Merlin doesn't answer yes, they would call it off and fuck in the rug in front of the fireplace instead. However, if everything and everyone was ready, and the dog looked in the right mood, then they would set up the place and enact one of Merlin's deepest fantasies.

This had started out as strictly one of Merlin's quirks that Arthur went along with to make sure Merlin stayed safe. Yet, one of Merlin's many talent is to take joy in almost anything and to share that joy. Before long, Arthur found himself looking forward to these seclude nights, to making something that appeared so impossible become reality and watch Merlin come undone in front of Arthur's eyes. In recent weeks, just the sight of the dog's tongue licking Merlin was enough to make Arthur's dick jump to attention. He knew how the dog would look when it would lick Merlin elsewhere, and, most importantly, Arthur couldn't resist how Merlin looked when he thought of this too.

Desire always made Merlin's eyes heavy-lidded and his curvy mouth slack, but the promise of this fantasy in particular affected him even harder. As far as Arthur could tell, it liberated Merlin in a way confessing did for others. Arthur had never even thought of denying him this. Freedom was a rare commodity in Camelot, and it suited Merlin well.

This time would be even better, Arthur thought. They had started out slow, always only playing one part of the fantasy — watch dogs together, have one present while they touched each other — or going up to one point — let a dog rut against Merlin's clothed back, or entice it with food to lick Merlin's privates. This time though, they were planning to do something extra. Anticipation of this moment has blanketed Arthur and Merlin's interactions for the whole week, and the thick buzz of a thrill now coursed along Arthur's spine.

Shaking his head to clear it, Arthur exhaled slowly to steer himself back into a perfect control of the present moment. He nodded at Merlin's answer and took the dog outside the door, tied its leash around the inside doorknob, then came back into the room.

Arthur was in his brown hunting gear — all the more credit to their cover up of going hunting for a couple of days. They were staying alone in the newly restored little shack in the woods the royal family almost never used anymore, their habitual place. It would be just the two of them and a few dogs for the whole time. No one ever noticed that Merlin sometimes came back a little more sore, and a lot happier, than he ought to be.

Quietly, Merlin disrobed himself while Arthur fetched the jars of fat and jam, the soft rope and the low backless bench they had agreed on. He put them down in the middle of the room, clearing the area of the rest of its spare furniture, leaving only a bundle of cloths nearby. Naked, Merlin folded some linens and piled them unevenly on the bench.

Finally, Merlin draped himself over the bench, his arse raised higher than the rest, shifting until he was comfortable. Arthur efficiently tied his wrists and knees to the four legs of the seat.

Arthur picked up the jar. "I am going to prepare you."

"Keep your glove on," Merlin reminded him cheekily.

Arthur slapped his arse, amused, then kept his hand there to fondle Merlin. Merlin liked to squirm against his bonds when tied and exposed like this, and Arthur loved that in Merlin. "I know. You like it hard, like a good bitch in heat."

Merlin's answer was to wriggle his arse in impatience. With practiced forbearance for Merlin's impertinence, Arthur complied. He removed one soft leather glove and kept the other, then dipped two of his gloved fingers in the fat, and pressed one of them inside Merlin with ease. Merlin gave a small grunt, then sighed happily when Arthur rocked it back and forth. Pulling fully out, Arthur added more fat on his fingers and pushed two back in. Merlin hissed and pushed back into it. Arthur curved his fingers, loving the feel of being inside Merlin, and jabbed them as if stroking an itch with the expertise of someone who’d been bedding Merlin for years. It drove him wild, the way Merlin liked it rough when he was in this kind of mindset.

"Okay," Merlin gasped after a while. "Go on."

Arthur removed his hand and picked up the jam. It was a berry mix Merlin had concocted himself so as to be easy to clean up, non-damaging for Merlin and good for the dog. Arthur smeared it thickly onto Merlin's arse cleft, letting some drip over his balls and hanging cock. Merlin gasped at what must have been the temperature contrast. Arthur smiled and rubbed a berry piece directly over Merlin's hole, teasing him, until he pushed it in along with some more jam. He repeated the manoeuvre until Merlin moaned.

Merlin was ready. Arthur toppled both jars and stroked Merlin's thigh with his filthy gloved hand. The dirty streaks it left clashed artfully with Merlin's delectable pale arse. "Still certain? It will not be me who's going to fuck you this time. It will be the dog."

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. Please."

Arthur got up, rekindled the nearby fire, and fetched the dog.

It was a fine male dog, young and curious yet obedient. It loved Merlin and didn't look too heavy or strong, and it had a good appetite for their jam.

They had waited until several of the kennel's female dogs were in heat and all the males eager and excited, then Arthur had picked this one along with a few random ones, and announced he and Merlin were going hunting.

Barely arrived at the shack, Arthur had taken this dog aside and set to his tasks. There always were restless energy prickling under his skin whenever they agreed to a night like this. Except this time it was a new extended version of what they usually did, and Arthur had felt their anticipation rising up every instant like a fever taking hold. By the way Merlin hadn’t been able to stop fidgeting around the room in jerky movements, Arthur had figured he felt it too. They couldn’t rush this, though. Arthur needed everything to be perfect.

After brushing the dog clean, Arthur had carefully sanded and cleaned its nails, then washed its mouth. Merlin, in the middle of unpacking their belongings, had been unable to stop staring despite his blush. He had given Arthur a very enthusiastic blow job at this point, yet Merlin had not touched his own erection. They had wanted Arthur to be as clear-headed as possible, but Merlin felt being a little out of it himself might help. They considered whether the dog would need any incentive, but dismissed it after the second time it tried to mount Merlin's legs within an hour, much to Arthur's amusement.

The dog had a name, of course, but Merlin didn't want to hear it. Between them, they simply called it "the dog".

Even now as the dog neared Merlin, it nuzzled eagerly at Arthur's filthy hand. Arthur laughed but didn't let it lick it. There would be plenty of jam for it, soon. True to Arthur's thoughts, when the dog got close enough, it started straining against its leash, smelling the berries.

Arthur kept a firm grip on the leather rope. This wasn't the first time they acted out this part of Merlin's fantasies, and he knew the dog could get overenthusiastic. He didn't want anything to go astray before they could see the whole thing through.

The dog sniffed when it reached Merlin's rear, and Merlin jumped, at its breath or perhaps at the sudden press of its nose. Once past that surprise, Merlin held himself still and silent while the dog smelled him. Merlin had never been very good at doing either. From the tension in his frame, Arthur knew the ropes were at least helping him for the stillness part.

Then the dog started licking, and Arthur stopped thinking.

The dog had a long, strong tongue. It lapped Merlin's thighs first, broad noisy strokes cleaning the jam easily. The folds and hair nearer Merlin's groin required more attention, and the dog visibly put more pressure into it. It shook its head, burrowing between Merlin's legs, tail wagging fiercely. Merlin's breath was coming out in gasps. His control was slipping. Arthur could see it in the flex of his back and leg muscles, in how he strained towards the dog like he really was in heat, following the dog's movements as it sought all the jam. Everything was incredible: the animal smell of sweat and lust; the contrast of their colours; the shift of muscles underneath skin and fur; the way Merlin was allowing to be ravaged like this despite Arthur knowing for a fact he could get free in the flash of an eye; and the sounds he was making. Merlin looked gorgeous.

When the dog at last nosed Merlin's arse cheeks, Merlin cried out. The dog jerked to attention immediately, staring at where Merlin had buried his face in the cloth over the bench. Arthur stepped closer and stroked Merlin's hair with his un-gloved hand. "Here, here. You all right?"

Merlin let the linen slip from between his teeth to gasp. "Y- Yes."

Arthur observed him, nodded when he was satisfied and turned back to the dog, kneeling beside it. He petted its back to calm it. "There. Your bitch is fine. Come on, go on, eat him out." He guided the dog's head back toward Merlin's arse, petted the dog one last time, then held Merlin's cheeks spread as it resumed licking. "Good dog."

Merlin keened and shuddered, his toes curling and uncurling as the licking picked up in intensity. Arthur had to fight to control his own breathing.

Before long, Merlin's arse was wet and reddened by the rough wash, Arthur’s grip on his flesh slippery. The dog buried its muzzle into Merlin's cleft to get at his hole. Arthur knew the dog had pushed its tongue in when Merlin let out a gasp and his back curved upwards, trembling with the effort of holding still.

"Arthur. Arthur, Arthur. Please," Merlin begged thickly, forehead rolling on the bench.

Letting one hand go, Arthur adjusted himself in his constricting breeches. He coughed. The dog raised its head to look at him expectantly. It was licking its flews like eating Merlin out was a feast, and Arthur secretly agreed.

Arthur stared at Merlin's flushed, dripping skin, at Merlin's slobbered on hole shining wetly, hair matted away from it, inches away from Arthur's wet hand digging into Merlin's cleft. He could see how the wetness was dipping inside, how the dog's front teeth must have been brushing around the area for it to reach in far enough to get to all it wanted.

Giving in to impulse, Arthur pushed two of his naked fingers inside Merlin, crooking them for the sheer pleasure of feeling Merlin gripping him. The hold was strong but not too tight, and there was no sign that Merlin was in pain. Arthur played with him a little, just enough to brush the thing inside Merlin that made him buck and curse; then, he pulled his fingers out reluctantly.

Turning away, he picked up from the nearby bundle a thick, clean horse blanket. He folded it, and draped it over Merlin's back, careful to leave Merlin's head free. He couldn't resist giving Merlin a fond scratch of nails down his neck. Merlin let out a small laugh and some of the tension he had built up left his frame. "Prat."

"Airhead," Arthur replied on reflex, his own nerves being soothed by his fascination. This part of the proceedings was more unpredictable, depending on many factors. Yet, while he stayed on alert, Arthur was confident that what their plans didn't cover, Merlin's magic could resolve. Arthur would be there to make sure everything went well.

Smiling, Arthur beckoned the dog to come closer, idly amused that the dog understood hand signals better than Merlin. Arthur slapped Merlin's wet bottom gently in invitation.

"Your turn, boy. Up you go."

The dog hesitated a moment. Arthur patted the blanket over Merlin's back. "Paws here."

With a yip, the dog mounted Merlin. Merlin's breath caught. Arthur positioned the dog's paws further up Merlin's back, certain its nails wouldn't hurt Merlin through the thick material, and making the dog lean forward and press fully against Merlin's backside. The dog's tail waved happily, the swaying rubbing the dog's underbelly against Merlin who took shallow breaths.

Arthur stroked Merlin's neck and reached back behind him, under the dog. He stroked and played with Merlin's balls. Merlin wriggled back. The dog caught up with them.

It repositioned itself, pawing at the blanket. It almost fully stilled while its lower groin rocked gently, both teasing itself into a full erection and seeking entrance. Arthur leaned sideways and pulled apart Merlin's cheeks again from underneath to help. Abruptly, the dog growled, and Arthur knew it had found the right place. With a snarl, it snapped its hips forward.

Merlin gave a surprised shout, but immediately groaned. "Mm - OK. I'm OK. Huhn."
Arthur let go of him and sat back on his heels to look at Merlin's face. His skin was flushed and sweaty, his eyes clenched shut and his breaths slid wetly from his open mouth. Arthur called his name gently, cradling his face, and Merlin opened his eyes. They were glassy, the pupils blown, and his lashes fell shut with every thrusts jerking his body. Small cries fell from his lips whenever he was jerked forward, but he didn’t look in pain. Arthur kissed him, and Merlin hummed, his tongue clumsy against Arthur's.

The dog was brimming with energy, quickly dissolving into giving short, frantic thrusts. Merlin unravelled as well, unable to stop the noises puffing out of him with every breath, high and low notes tangled incomprehensibly with bouts of "Arthur, fuck, huge". The dog had stilled, but it wasn't moving. Stuck into place.

Merlin's whole body was shaking. Arthur smoothed the hair from Merlin's forehead, caressed his neck and arms and bonds, and watched in amazement as he came undone in a way only magic previously had been able to do in the past. The trembling subdued, dimming into Merlin's bones like a fire retreating into coals. Merlin's eyes were open but unfocused, and he was making sounds Arthur could only hear through the catches in his exhales.

It may have taken hours, it may have taken only minutes, but Arthur kept on touching him lightly until the dog shifted to the side and unlocked from Merlin. Arthur looked at it blankly as it shook its fur and started grooming itself, seeming perfectly at ease. Arthur's attention latched back onto Merlin.

Stroking his hair, Arthur asked. "Are you alright?"

Merlin took several tries to answer. He blinked slowly, the way he did when not fully awake yet. "Yeah. I t-think so."

Reassured, Arthur undid the ropes fastening him to the bench. Merlin hands and feet twitched, but he didn't otherwise move from his position, even freed. Arthur removed the heavy horse blanket and covered Merlin with fresh towels. He rubbed Merlin's hands and back. Carefully, Arthur rolled him over on the bench, noting Merlin's dick was mostly soft, then picked him up in his arms. Merlin made as if to protest, but his tired body got the better of him and he settled down. Arthur deposited him in the only bed of the shack. His head lolled to the side.

"Merlin? Merlin." Arthur waited until Merlin slitted his eyes open in his direction. "How do you feel?"

Merlin groaned and stretched lazily. "A bit raw, but not much. Like... stubble burns?"

Arthur laughed. "We can work with that. I'm going to fetch water and wash you. Do you want to come?"

Merlin thought about it for so long Arthur thought he had fallen asleep with his eyes open, as Arthur suspected he sometimes did. "Hmm. No, thanks. Tomorrow, yeah? All day. But tomorrow."

"Don't push it." Arthur smiled and kissed him. Merlin opened his mouth to draw him in.

After that, Arthur dragged himself away with regret, but went around the room to collect a washcloth and the jug of water Merlin had filled that afternoon. He poured some for the dog, who had settled contently for the night into the discarded pile of cloths near the bench, then went back to the bed.

Carefully, he washed and changed Merlin into a nightshirt, pleased to note nothing more than light bruises on him and slightly raw looking patches of skin down his legs. Arthur put on night clothes as well. He banked the fire, petted the dog, and decided against cleaning anything else up. Merlin could do that tomorrow while Arthur went out to capture enough game to give their escapade verisimilitude. Finally, Arthur joined Merlin back in bed.

Merlin dozed throughout, only waking when Arthur's feet tangled with his at last. Sighing happily, he rolled onto his side and flung an arm over Arthur's chest, fidgeting until Arthur's face was tucked along Merlin's neck.

Arthur had had an erection earlier from Merlin's show, but his earlier orgasm ensured he could comfortably enough ignore this one until morning. He felt exhausted, but also triumphant. Arthur buried his nose into the upstroke of Merlin's collarbone and fell asleep surrounded by Merlin's warmth.