Huaisang watches Meng Yao with cold, distant eyes, as if Meng Yao is nothing but an insect he's considering stepping on.
But he's not cruel, despite how his rage and grief has hardened him, and Meng Yao's look touches his heart. Whether it's genuine or manipulative doesn't entirely matter. Huaisang's letting his temper break his promises, and he's not cruel enough to go through with this.
Sighing, he nuzzles between Dirk's ears, then nudges gently at him. "Let him up, puppy."
Dipping into his qiankun pouch, Huaisang draws out a little gray romper, because he always has a change of clothes on hand, even if it's only lingerie. He tosses it lightly at Meng Yao.
In shock, his ears swing forward and his head lifts, staring at Huaisang. He continues to stare, uncomprehending, as his Dominant even pulls out a change of clothes for this man who he had been angry enough at to sic a hellhound on.
The snarling has stopped, the hound's body language is a little leaned back from his prey, but he doesn't completely let the man up yet. He can't speak in this form, but the look he's giving Huaisang is clearly one of 'are you sure?'
Meng Yao sits up slowly, faintly amused despite himself. “Now who’s the good boy?” He murmurs, reaching out to snatch at Huaisang’s hand instead. Huaisang had always been softer; like Meng Yao, he wasn’t actually much of a fan of violence, though Meng Yao, at least, had been capable of dirtying his own hands on more than one occasion.
“A-Sang. Didn’t you want to punish me?” He presses a kiss to Huaisang’s fingertips, peering up at him with heated eyes. “Ah—Apologies. I mean, ‘teach me a lesson’? Don’t back down on your convictions now.”
And perhaps it was a test of his own. If Huaisang was determined to build him into something new, than he would do the same to Huaisang on occasion. He wanted to show Huaisang how easy it could be to slip further and further if one wasn’t careful, how addicting that power was. He nuzzles his face against Huaisang’s hand.
“But... I’m proud of you, too, for not giving in. It’s what Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun would have done.”
He feels conflicted abut it too. On one hand, there’s a self-destructive streak in him now that craves it; on the other hand, as much as he wants to drag Huaisang down, he... Also doesn’t? He’s tainted the boy enough, hasn’t he? His expression wavers and he closes his eyes again, leaning his head against Huaisang’s hand. “...Ha... The both of us still have a ways to go, don’t we...”
Huaisang nods a little bit, letting Meng Yao kiss submissively at his fingertips. It wasn't even clear what Meng Yao wanted. Clearly a part of him had wanted this to keep going, wanted the punishment and fear--and, of course, the sex.
Meng Yao's mixed statements gave Huaisang the compromise he needed. Straightening up, face shuttered again into cool elegance, he gathered up the little garment and then waved his fan dismissively at the two of them. "Toss him over your shoulder, puppy. We'll take him home."
By home he means their home, Dirk's home. "You can play with him more there."
Dirk just watches the two of them with such mixed feelings that he is forced to just shut out his own thoughts for a minute and wait for instruction. In this case, it's probably a good thing that he doesn't feel capable of doing much arguing against whoever is in the role of his master, because if he'd interjected here, he has no idea what he would say.
So, he just shuts up until the order is given. Then, he's immediately back into action, and he isn't aiming to be nice about it.
Unless Meng Yao scrambles fast to do it himself, he is going to be "helped" onto the beast's back by being hoisted up with monstrous teeth around his thigh.
Meng Yao was never one to share his feelings about, well, anything. He’d been forced to, once in a while, but overall he found it better to hint at things and see where they went from there. Easier that way in all respects—at least, for him, especially when it came to the idea of plausible deniability.
His grip tightens a little on Huaisang’s hand before he pulls away, a thrill mixing with the fear and he hisses in pain as he’s suddenly forced up by Dirk himself. “That’s—“ He begins, looking humiliated and annoyed; his clothes were still torn to shreds, he could hardly cover himself too effectively like this now that Huaisang’s taken his change of clothes away. But he goes quiet and hides his face away instead, not wanting to be seen.
Huaisang leads the way to Dirk's house, scratching at Dirk's head and ears occasionally but not saying much. When they arrive at the Dog Kennel, Huaisang bends to give him a kiss on the snout, then takes a seat on the couch. He reaches into that magic pouch of his, pulling out a bottle of wine and a little porcelain cup, pouring for just himself. "You may play with him as you like, puppy, and he may beg you for mercy as he likes. I'll interject if I don't like how things are going."
Reaching into his pouch one more time, Huaisang draws out a little glass vial, wiggling it between his fingers. "Yaoyao?"
Dirk practically shakes Meng Yao off of his back when they reach the house, and then he does legitimately shake out his entire pelt as if the man might have left bugs on him once he has gotten down. By the time he's done shaking off, the demon is back to being enormous-dog-sized, which makes moving around furniture much easier.
He sticks close to Huaisang as he moves to the couch, but his eyes never leave their "guest," and he never loses that look of hunger--for violence, destruction, sex, just something after all that drama in the alleyway.
Then, Huaisang once more loosens his proverbial leash, and he begins a slow stalk toward Meng Yao again.
Meng Yao grits his teeth, only letting out a small grunt as he hits the ground, rolling onto his knees immediately. His eyes dart between Huaisang and Dirk, honestly not knowing who’s the bigger threat here at the moment.
The offer of the vial has his stomach twisting and he holds his hand out for it, eyes never leaving Dirk as he does so. “Please,” he murmurs; he has a feeling he’s going to need as much of it as he can get, especially if Dirk can change his size like that. He watches Dirk like a predator in return—just if Dirk is a dog, Meng Yao was a cat.
Huaisang props his chin on his hand once Meng Yao takes the vial, spectating the two of them with interest and enjoying his wine. The compromise situation soothes his guilt, and his temper has calmed, so he can simply enjoy the situation. If Meng Yao gets too upset again, Huaisang can simply toss a garment at him and throw him out, taking Dirk's need for an outlet onto himself for some rough, intense sex. But as long as Meng Yao is willing to play with the edge of his own comfort, Huaisang is excited to spectate.
He sips at his wine, letting the two of them play. For the moment, there's no need for him to interfere.
The monstrous hound does give one final glance back at his keeper, maybe double-checking that this is indeed what he wants, before his attention fixes on his prey again.
He stalks after Meng Yao, herding him away from the safety of walls and toward the center of the space, circling closer as he goes. Hackles raised and a low growl rumbling in his chest, he seems intent on menacing him before he really and truly pounces after him. The sound of loathing in Huaisang's voice and the litany of this man's transgressions still parade clearly through his head, rekindling his own anger.
When he does finally lunge forward, it is with very little warning. Some line of tension in the hound's head simply snaps and he's suddenly rushing forward with a hellish snarl, snapping at Meng Yao's heels.
He could leap and flatten him to the floor in one go, but half the fun is in the chase. Everything is replaceable in this apartment anyway.
Huaisang won’t allow him to be killed, or maimed too horribly—Meng Yao can at least rely (hope) on that. It doesn’t make the fear any less real, however, as he clutches the vial tight in one hand and moves quickly to dodge the incoming lunge.
Meng Yao may not have raw strength on his side, but he’s quick and he’s agile, though the layout of the place means he doesn’t have that to his advantage either. Still he’s quick to dodge and run out of the way, jumping over obstacles to try and keep one jump ahead of him, until Dirk sees fit to stop playing.
It's also unfair that Dirk is not made of real flesh and blood when he doesn't want to be. The dog-shape he's in is a little too flexible, pivots too quickly, and moves too fluidly when he vaults over furniture.
At the tail-end of the chase, when he's really feeling the pursuit of prey and the scent of fear is strong, little licks of flame even begin to flicker over his fur and down his spine. And when the desire to bring his prey to the ground finally wins out, he darts forward to latch his teeth around Meng Yao's ankle as the man goes to flee again, aiming to trip him up and pounce on him once he's down.
He can’t help but feel some concern at that—hopefully he doesn’t have to worry about burns on top of everything else, his heart pounding anew with more fear. His instinct is to try and yank away, but he refrains out of fear for causing any lasting damage to his ankle.
It doesn’t stop him from twisting as he falls, landing on his side so he can kick out with his free leg, teeth gritting against the pain of his hard hit to the floor. His eyes are wild with the desire to get away, but if it looks like something is going to end in worse pain for him—pulling or spraining something—he’ll go still to reassess. Meng Yao isn’t above injuring himself to get away, but he has to be more careful about such a thing here.
Huaisang rolls his eyes indulgently as Meng Yao fights against Dirk. He almost speaks up to remind Meng Yao that this will all go easier if he cooperates, but he already did suggest to Meng Yao that he beg. If he'd rather take pain and be stubborn, who is Huaisang to judge? He sips his tea, enjoying the show the two of them are putting on and not worrying in the least about being so close to the fray.
The demon is snarling with wicked teeth bared as if he means to kill the man, but the bites will only graze and bruise instead of tear him to pieces. Even when Meng Yao gets in a good kick to his face, he only squints one eye closed with an irritated bark instead of flying into a more murderous rage.
The real struggle is in pawing his prey's limbs away, bodily shoving his weight forward, and biting judiciously to get him pinned to the floor without seriously wounding him. It would be much quicker if he was allowed to just kill him.
But murder isn't what his keeper wants, especially inside this nice new home. So, he just terrorizes the man until he has no choice but to give up, at least momentarily.
Meng Yao grits his teeth and, after a good 30 seconds or so of struggling, goes limp, panting softly under him.
“Let me...At least prepare myself,” he manages to get out, holding the vial as tight as he can out of fear of losing it. He has no doubts that Dirk might as well take him dry for all the difference it might make to him, and he has no desire to end up bedridden from this—at least, not because of something like that.
The hound backs off a little, giving his prey a little room to breathe and move, but it could hardly be counted as a reprieve.
Hopefully Meng Yao can work quickly and deftly to get himself as prepared as he wants, because the hound is mostly only moving back so that he can immediately begin shoving at him with his jaws--using teeth if he needs to--and pawing roughly at his body to try and get him to flip over onto his hands and knees.
Whether his prey cooperates or not, he isn't planning on waiting long. The excitement of hunting and powering the man to the ground, knowing that his keeper wants a show, wants to watch his enemy suffer, fills him with a hunger that has him beginning to visibly swell past his sheath, glints of his natural wetness--probably not enough to Meng Yao's preferences--already showing.
Huaisang makes a rumbling sound of approval at the sight of Dirk's cock beginning to emerge, especially since Meng Yao is cooperating and not looking to Huaisang for any hope of rescue. Their relationship is a complicated one, and Huaisang enjoys pushing the boundary between what Meng Yao desires and what he's willing to ask for, and Huaisang has already proven that he's too soft-hearted to be overtly cruel, even to Meng Yao. This can stop at any time, if that's what Meng Yao needs. But Huaisang is delighted to see that he isn't putting up any real resistance, isn't begging Huaisang for mercy again.
Meng Yao knows better than to take Dirk backing off as any sign of relief, and he quickly pops the vial open to spill the oil onto his fingers. He makes a noise of protest as he’s turned over, but after being nipped at the first time he rolls over without much complaint, his expression clouded with embarrassed arousal. He liked this position the least, forced onto hands and knees, often with his back and head bowed so low.
But Dirk is a dog, so Meng Yao thinks it’s probably appropriate that he fucks like one and tries not to think of how that makes him the bitch here.
He sits up and presses his fingers quickly against his hole, hasty and desperate. It’s less about making sure he’s worked open properly and more that there’s enough to to ease the way when Dirk finally does take him. He has no idea how big his cock will get, considering Dirk’s ability to change his size at will, and his heart pounds with a terrifying thrill of being pushed to his limits or beyond.
His eyes catch on Huaisang’s for a moment, remembering he has an audience, but his gaze falls as he blushes darkly.
Meng Yao is absolutely about to become the hellhound's new bitch. That's what Huaisang had wanted, isn't? He's aiming to please the whims of his keeper.
Dirk does have the ability to tease and draw things out, but that isn't the goal in this case. With the memory of Huaisang's anger as he'd recited the litany of this man's transgressions still bright in his mind, there's no desire to be particularly nice here. He's not a monster about it, but there isn't exactly going to be much in the way of foreplay.
All Meng Yao gets is the beast's muzzle shoving roughly between his legs and a massive tongue lapping over the length of his cock once before he's mounted.
A whole lot of fur and muscle suddenly drapes onto his back, powerful forelegs immediately catching around his waist and hugging him into place. The hound's entire body radiates heat--from the breath now panting against the back of his neck, to the hot, wet hardness shoving between his ass cheeks.
He doesn't angle to penetrate just yet. Call it a warning--humping hard up against him so Meng Yao can feel the girth of what he's about to be subjected to--and so Dirk can enjoy the friction squeezed between his prey's cheeks for a minute to build himself into an even hungrier frenzy.
He can’t help the small yelp of alarm as Dirk shoves his face forward, Meng Yao quickly moving his hand to brace against the floor. He’s hard as it is despite himself, despite the situation, and he whimpers low as the sudden press of that tongue before he’s— Well. Mounted. There’s no better way to put it, nothing that could save him from that reality.
His entire body trembles, his breathing harsh as he bows his head, allowing the dark curtain of his hair to shield his expressions as he pants, open-mouthed. Dirk is large and Meng Yao can hardly keep himself still, trembling anew at the slide of him against Meng Yao’s skin. “Ah—“ A soft noise, pleading, and it ends on a whimper as he shoves his hips back impatiently. Get on with it already! He seems to be quietly demanding.
Dirk is taking no demands, so the pleading little sound and way the man writhes earns nothing but what sounds alarmingly like a low, growling chuckle among all the panting. Meng Yao can go ahead and endure a few more moments of nothing but indulgent pressure and friction on the demon's part, until he finally decides to change his angle without warning.
His goal isn't to ruin the man underneath him, but he still isn't kind about the way he shifts his hips down and bucks forward, powering in without reservation until he feels the warmth and the tightness around him that he has driven himself mad for.
Meng Yao takes a few deep breaths, twitching every time it seems like Dirk is about to actually fuck into him, only to find himself growing frustrated and restless the longer it goes on without him doing so.
He’s just about to actually shout at Dirk to get on with it already when he does—relentless and merciless, he presses in and Meng Yao cries out, pressing his forehead against his forearms on the floor. He can hardly breathe, groaning low in a mix of pleasure and pain, overwhelmed by the force of him, a tremor going down his spine as he clenches down on his cock if Dirk finally bottoms out within him.
Though it might seem like he must be putting his entire length into him each time, it actually takes the hound a few long, hard strokes to finally bottom out. He shoves deeper each time, panting like he's still running his prey down, until he finally runs into resistance.
Only once he has seated himself as deeply as he can in his new bitch does the demon really put effort into fucking him. He finally has him where he really wants him. Tightening his grip around the man's waist to keep him braced in place, he picks up speed, humping with powerful intent as if he's still intending on driving even deeper into him.
And that's because this is exactly what he in intending, of course. The resistance shoving up against Meng Yao's entrance now is not the flat of the demon's body but the girth of an engorged knot.
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But he's not cruel, despite how his rage and grief has hardened him, and Meng Yao's look touches his heart. Whether it's genuine or manipulative doesn't entirely matter. Huaisang's letting his temper break his promises, and he's not cruel enough to go through with this.
Sighing, he nuzzles between Dirk's ears, then nudges gently at him. "Let him up, puppy."
Dipping into his qiankun pouch, Huaisang draws out a little gray romper, because he always has a change of clothes on hand, even if it's only lingerie. He tosses it lightly at Meng Yao.
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The snarling has stopped, the hound's body language is a little leaned back from his prey, but he doesn't completely let the man up yet. He can't speak in this form, but the look he's giving Huaisang is clearly one of 'are you sure?'
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“A-Sang. Didn’t you want to punish me?” He presses a kiss to Huaisang’s fingertips, peering up at him with heated eyes. “Ah—Apologies. I mean, ‘teach me a lesson’? Don’t back down on your convictions now.”
And perhaps it was a test of his own. If Huaisang was determined to build him into something new, than he would do the same to Huaisang on occasion. He wanted to show Huaisang how easy it could be to slip further and further if one wasn’t careful, how addicting that power was. He nuzzles his face against Huaisang’s hand.
“But... I’m proud of you, too, for not giving in. It’s what Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun would have done.”
He feels conflicted abut it too. On one hand, there’s a self-destructive streak in him now that craves it; on the other hand, as much as he wants to drag Huaisang down, he... Also doesn’t? He’s tainted the boy enough, hasn’t he? His expression wavers and he closes his eyes again, leaning his head against Huaisang’s hand. “...Ha... The both of us still have a ways to go, don’t we...”
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Meng Yao's mixed statements gave Huaisang the compromise he needed. Straightening up, face shuttered again into cool elegance, he gathered up the little garment and then waved his fan dismissively at the two of them. "Toss him over your shoulder, puppy. We'll take him home."
By home he means their home, Dirk's home. "You can play with him more there."
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So, he just shuts up until the order is given. Then, he's immediately back into action, and he isn't aiming to be nice about it.
Unless Meng Yao scrambles fast to do it himself, he is going to be "helped" onto the beast's back by being hoisted up with monstrous teeth around his thigh.
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His grip tightens a little on Huaisang’s hand before he pulls away, a thrill mixing with the fear and he hisses in pain as he’s suddenly forced up by Dirk himself. “That’s—“ He begins, looking humiliated and annoyed; his clothes were still torn to shreds, he could hardly cover himself too effectively like this now that Huaisang’s taken his change of clothes away. But he goes quiet and hides his face away instead, not wanting to be seen.
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Reaching into his pouch one more time, Huaisang draws out a little glass vial, wiggling it between his fingers. "Yaoyao?"
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He sticks close to Huaisang as he moves to the couch, but his eyes never leave their "guest," and he never loses that look of hunger--for violence, destruction, sex, just something after all that drama in the alleyway.
Then, Huaisang once more loosens his proverbial leash, and he begins a slow stalk toward Meng Yao again.
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The offer of the vial has his stomach twisting and he holds his hand out for it, eyes never leaving Dirk as he does so. “Please,” he murmurs; he has a feeling he’s going to need as much of it as he can get, especially if Dirk can change his size like that. He watches Dirk like a predator in return—just if Dirk is a dog, Meng Yao was a cat.
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He sips at his wine, letting the two of them play. For the moment, there's no need for him to interfere.
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He stalks after Meng Yao, herding him away from the safety of walls and toward the center of the space, circling closer as he goes. Hackles raised and a low growl rumbling in his chest, he seems intent on menacing him before he really and truly pounces after him. The sound of loathing in Huaisang's voice and the litany of this man's transgressions still parade clearly through his head, rekindling his own anger.
When he does finally lunge forward, it is with very little warning. Some line of tension in the hound's head simply snaps and he's suddenly rushing forward with a hellish snarl, snapping at Meng Yao's heels.
He could leap and flatten him to the floor in one go, but half the fun is in the chase. Everything is replaceable in this apartment anyway.
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Meng Yao may not have raw strength on his side, but he’s quick and he’s agile, though the layout of the place means he doesn’t have that to his advantage either. Still he’s quick to dodge and run out of the way, jumping over obstacles to try and keep one jump ahead of him, until Dirk sees fit to stop playing.
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At the tail-end of the chase, when he's really feeling the pursuit of prey and the scent of fear is strong, little licks of flame even begin to flicker over his fur and down his spine. And when the desire to bring his prey to the ground finally wins out, he darts forward to latch his teeth around Meng Yao's ankle as the man goes to flee again, aiming to trip him up and pounce on him once he's down.
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It doesn’t stop him from twisting as he falls, landing on his side so he can kick out with his free leg, teeth gritting against the pain of his hard hit to the floor. His eyes are wild with the desire to get away, but if it looks like something is going to end in worse pain for him—pulling or spraining something—he’ll go still to reassess. Meng Yao isn’t above injuring himself to get away, but he has to be more careful about such a thing here.
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The real struggle is in pawing his prey's limbs away, bodily shoving his weight forward, and biting judiciously to get him pinned to the floor without seriously wounding him. It would be much quicker if he was allowed to just kill him.
But murder isn't what his keeper wants, especially inside this nice new home. So, he just terrorizes the man until he has no choice but to give up, at least momentarily.
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“Let me...At least prepare myself,” he manages to get out, holding the vial as tight as he can out of fear of losing it. He has no doubts that Dirk might as well take him dry for all the difference it might make to him, and he has no desire to end up bedridden from this—at least, not because of something like that.
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Hopefully Meng Yao can work quickly and deftly to get himself as prepared as he wants, because the hound is mostly only moving back so that he can immediately begin shoving at him with his jaws--using teeth if he needs to--and pawing roughly at his body to try and get him to flip over onto his hands and knees.
Whether his prey cooperates or not, he isn't planning on waiting long. The excitement of hunting and powering the man to the ground, knowing that his keeper wants a show, wants to watch his enemy suffer, fills him with a hunger that has him beginning to visibly swell past his sheath, glints of his natural wetness--probably not enough to Meng Yao's preferences--already showing.
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But Dirk is a dog, so Meng Yao thinks it’s probably appropriate that he fucks like one and tries not to think of how that makes him the bitch here.
He sits up and presses his fingers quickly against his hole, hasty and desperate. It’s less about making sure he’s worked open properly and more that there’s enough to to ease the way when Dirk finally does take him. He has no idea how big his cock will get, considering Dirk’s ability to change his size at will, and his heart pounds with a terrifying thrill of being pushed to his limits or beyond.
His eyes catch on Huaisang’s for a moment, remembering he has an audience, but his gaze falls as he blushes darkly.
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Dirk does have the ability to tease and draw things out, but that isn't the goal in this case. With the memory of Huaisang's anger as he'd recited the litany of this man's transgressions still bright in his mind, there's no desire to be particularly nice here. He's not a monster about it, but there isn't exactly going to be much in the way of foreplay.
All Meng Yao gets is the beast's muzzle shoving roughly between his legs and a massive tongue lapping over the length of his cock once before he's mounted.
A whole lot of fur and muscle suddenly drapes onto his back, powerful forelegs immediately catching around his waist and hugging him into place. The hound's entire body radiates heat--from the breath now panting against the back of his neck, to the hot, wet hardness shoving between his ass cheeks.
He doesn't angle to penetrate just yet. Call it a warning--humping hard up against him so Meng Yao can feel the girth of what he's about to be subjected to--and so Dirk can enjoy the friction squeezed between his prey's cheeks for a minute to build himself into an even hungrier frenzy.
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His entire body trembles, his breathing harsh as he bows his head, allowing the dark curtain of his hair to shield his expressions as he pants, open-mouthed. Dirk is large and Meng Yao can hardly keep himself still, trembling anew at the slide of him against Meng Yao’s skin. “Ah—“ A soft noise, pleading, and it ends on a whimper as he shoves his hips back impatiently. Get on with it already! He seems to be quietly demanding.
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His goal isn't to ruin the man underneath him, but he still isn't kind about the way he shifts his hips down and bucks forward, powering in without reservation until he feels the warmth and the tightness around him that he has driven himself mad for.
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He’s just about to actually shout at Dirk to get on with it already when he does—relentless and merciless, he presses in and Meng Yao cries out, pressing his forehead against his forearms on the floor. He can hardly breathe, groaning low in a mix of pleasure and pain, overwhelmed by the force of him, a tremor going down his spine as he clenches down on his cock if Dirk finally bottoms out within him.
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Only once he has seated himself as deeply as he can in his new bitch does the demon really put effort into fucking him. He finally has him where he really wants him. Tightening his grip around the man's waist to keep him braced in place, he picks up speed, humping with powerful intent as if he's still intending on driving even deeper into him.
And that's because this is exactly what he in intending, of course. The resistance shoving up against Meng Yao's entrance now is not the flat of the demon's body but the girth of an engorged knot.
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