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Doppelganger

Earth is little more than a random number generator, and life is like the paper it writes the results onto. Some of these results are recorded by man, and cataloged as meaningful; empires, rulers, ideas, and technology are amongst these, but it's the small things we miss.

The small things we forget to write down.

The small things we decide not to write down.

For their consequences...

Like every RNG, as random number generators are often referred to as in a more technological sense, ours is capable of repeating itself. Take your standard six sided die, and roll it. There's almost exactly a one in six chance that it landed on 1, but if you roll two six sided dice- while the chances are the same- they're also not. If you roll a hundred, the chances seem vastly greater than with just one, but the chance has remained the same the entire time.

This is because you have more dice to roll.

More entities to gather statistics from.

More opportunity to see repeating results.

The commonality of any one roll appears greater simply because you see it more often. This is true for any RNG, and the average life of a person is not different. You can safely assume, that no matter what you're doing, at least one other person in the world is doing something very similar, if not almost identical. Every beautiful vista you've laid your eyes on has been seen from that very same perspective over a million times. That oxygen you're breathing in has been breathed over a million times throughout the existence of Earth, but it still feels "fresh".

This randomness has led to odd coincidences in the past; adopted children given the same name, having the same children, and marrying the same women; and has led to odd folklore, such as that, of the doppelganger. Have you ever passed a group of people and heard a voice amongst them that belongs to a dear friend of yours, but find it actually belongs to but another stranger? May haps you've beheld a stranger pass you twice, in different outfits but in identical appearance despite.

Typically deemed apparitions or phantom entities, they are commonly used to describe people who look uncannily similar, and so too is the tale I now tell you, of Jared Hanes.

Jared Hanes was a fox, both physically and figuratively, he'd never had problems with his own physique. Although he had markings along his back, long known to any who'd seen him, but still invisible to his own eyes, he never worried about what they were. They fascinated people, and had certainly helped him from the bar into the home of any man so lucky enough for him to deem his prey worthy of his companionship.

Jared Hanes was a particular sort of fox, with a particular sort of life, and a particular sort of interests. A clever man, Hanes dominated society and its many delicacies with great precision. The alluring gaze of men and women alike were not his worry, but rather their physique, and their idiocy often played aid to that desire.

In a world of steel and coal, motors and gears, men of science replace men of money, and they lord over the same working class with the same, predatory desires. Hanes was no man of brawn, and while he couldn't always care for such figures, he'd found he had a strange desire for anyone stupid enough to be with him, emotionally, or mentally.

A player in our tongue, he lorded over his own kind, for as a man of science and a man of strange, Hanes had lost all interest in women, from their form to their capabilities; they were but a means to an end, as were all whose body he cared not for. When men saw him they saw money, and while those on the prowl saw him as a threat, he saw them as a tool to get what he really wanted: the lithe figure of a man who could take it as well as give it.

He'd seen bears try impressing men with strength, and had always swept in with a flourish of speech, movement, and false emotion that made him more desirable than his body did already, and bragging of natural birthmarks depicting a double sunrise could do as much as land him in the bed of a boy yearning to please his better.

As such was a day like today, when Mister Hanes found himself wandering into a new tavern, and approached a young fox in the back corner. Over the boy's shoulder didst Hanes peer, taking careful note of his hard cider, his bored posture, and his neatly pressed clothes. Hanes knew this well, for every evening he did the same, prepping himself with a solid buzz before stepping out on the town. He'd skipped it tonight, planning on finding a boy to join and acquire his poison there, but found this one doing his own tactic.

The fox flicked his ears as Hanes realized he was breathing down the boy's neck, and decisively sat across from him. Hanes froze, swearing by god he knew this boy from somewhere, and figured this wasn't going to be his first time with him.

The fox across the table however knew, as you the reader surely must've guessed, that these two foxes were the spitting images of each other, and the new comer, whose name most surely is Howard James, decided tonight would be interesting. Jared locked eyes with him, opening his mouth to speak when Howard stole his thunder, "What's the matter, not used to sitting at the big boys' table?"

Jared scoffed, immediately knowing this ploy, immediately knowing he'd walked into a trap he knew the makings of, "What's the matter, can't be creative enough to trap a fellow predator?" And so the seal of safety broke, and both knew that they knew exactly the kind of person they were dealing with, a perfect match of themselves.

Howard nodded, beginning to plot a means of getting this fine specimen into bed, "Maybe you didn't hear me, but this is the big boys' table."

Jared shook his head, "No I heard fine, it's just mighty talk from someone of your position."

"Oh please, you insult me. Men of cunning lord over the masses, saving the battle for each other. It'd be utterly_stupid_ to waste all your energy on the commoners."

Jared shrugged, feeling less than, "Today is a new day, lad, and tonight is even newer."

Howard squinted at his look-alike, "I suspect you know my intentions this evening."

"I suspect I share those same intentions."

"Then it's agreed, we go to the lair of whoever has the better tools to get the job done."

Jared let slip a note of confusion; a twinkle in his eye and a dart to the left, wincing as he saw Howard's face light up. Jared had given up his only chance at dominance, and now this boy was going to teach the teacher, and so with a brisk, shameful walk to the train, and a quiet, awkward trip to the outskirts of town, Jared followed Howard, not knowing his name, only knowing his place.

Soon they arrived at a building of iron and steel, and soon Jared found himself being taken downstairs, to a store room with strange looking mechanisms. Pulleys and levers, ropes and girders, straps and buckles were but the comprehensible aspects of the boy's basement, and looking around he found rubberized molds of dicks and cocks, alongside similar,obviously erotic equipment. Howard gave his twin a hard shove against the wall, with but a guttural utterance: "Strip."

Jared didn't waste time, he knew how to dominate, and knew how it felt to try dominating someone who wouldn't co-operate. He didn't want to get on this fox's bad side, and when he'd finished, he found himself being grabbed by the scruff and dragged to a mirror to be shown his own cowardly body, crumpled up feebly on the floor at his master's thigh. He realized now that the _man_dominating him must be some apparition of himself, some sort of side effect of the magnetic rocking of the train. While any sane person might have fear from these realizations, he was too captivated by his new-found position. He wrapped his arms around the man's thigh, laying his head against it and posing with it.

He liked his new-found position.

Howard grabbed Jared's scruff and dragged him over to the metal framework in the middle of the room, commanding him to sit with a swift point downwards. Jared did so, his tail wagging as he looked up at his better, his member beginning to poke out of its home. Howard grabbed a black piece of cloth off the side of frame, and knelt down, showing that it had several straps on it leading to a single buckle, and slipped the thing over Jared's head so that he couldn't hear well, or see at all. The hood was pulled tight and Jared felt the buckle snap, the straps constricting his head in a way that he found strangely comforting.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to regret it as a large ball was forcefully shoved inside, and moaned in defiance as another buckle tightened around his head, securing it in place. Speech was impossible, and as Jared started to get uneasy he felt metal clamps fastened around his wrists and ankles, and right as he started to move he heard the mechanical grind of metal, a sound he and everyone else knew all too well. The whiny buzz of the magnets filled his ears as his ankles and wrists were snapped harshly away from each other and hoisted in the air so that he dangled limply from presumably invisible chains. Jared moaned in defiance once more, his length fully exposed as he squirmed restlessly in the air.

Howard placed a controlling hand on Jared's stomach, causing Jared to shiver and stop moving altogether out of both fear and obsession. He was about to try making a sound when suddenly he felt a cold liquid against his anus, and moaned as he felt Howard tenderizing the exposed flesh with the oily substance. He could feel his fur soaking it in, and felt his skin softening and relaxing as the substance lubricated his hole.

Jared felt himself lower about a foot and moaned as he felt Howard's member sliding back and forth between his cheeks, showing him every vein he knew was on his own member, with the difference that his was dripping pre. Howard knew how to torture someone, and he did so now, taking his sweet time rolling his length up and down Jared's crack, pouring more oil into the mix as he did so, to the point that it soon stopped being about lubricating the moving parts but rather trying to rub it in so much that it stopped being too slippery to handle.

Probably ten minutes went by, but Jared could've sworn it had been hours; hours of waiting, hours of moaning, hours of dripping pre and hours of drooling onto the ball and down the sides of his face. He was beginning to shiver in the cold basement when Howard finally grunted and slid his member into Jared's anus, who was so relieved he felt a pulse in his own member.

Howard was experienced in bed, and had intentionally avoided getting the lube _inside_Jared until his own, lathered cock dragged it in with it. He wanted Jared to be easy to get in and out of, but he still wanted his insides tight, and wanted Jared to feel the size of his cock. And so it was, because Jared clearly couldn't contain it, groaning and fidgeting as he struggled to escape, getting sick of the slowness of it all.

With each thrust Howard slid farther into Jared, probably by less than an eighth of an inch, but every difference was noted as a new degree of tedium, washing over Jared with each passing thrust and each passing moment of not being touched or stroked where he wanted to be. Most people had the decency to do that, even he would paw at whoever he was stuffing, but still he waited in vain for pleasure of a personal sort.

Agonizing tedium lapped at the lip of his anus as Howard's member thrusted in and out of the hole, slowly drawing closer to the moment when he'd start pushing his knot against these puckered lips, and once this moment was reached he slowly pressed a little more with each passing thrust. Each thrust brought a bit more of the knot inside is anus, and finally, reaching the peak of the curve, he thrust hard, slamming the whole thing inside Jared, who groaned with both delight and sincere pain, ejaculating his seed into the air and feeling it land on his chest as his orgasm drew out, shivering as the remaining cum dribbled out of his member slowly and painfully.

Of course, Howard still had to cum, and instead of bothering to keep pounding on Jared, he found new means of being an ass to him. He yanked his whole member out of Jared's loose hole, and took his sweet time getting the torture device, leaving Jared blind, panting, drooling, and whimpering. Jared wanted to be let go, he wanted to leave and get away from him and all of this, but Howard returned and slid a device over Jared's cock, strapping it around his waist and each leg, and finally turned on the device.

It whirred to life suddenly, angrily, and violently, beginning this process of compressing around the base of Jared's cock, and in small, quarter inch rubber pipes, it worked its way up to the very top of his cock, creating a somewhat tight mold of it. Then, simultaneously, every single pipe continued to inflate, constricting his cock slowly more and more, and finally to the painfully crushing point where it stopped moving entirely, remaining like that. Jared was groaning and whimpering, trying to contain his self-hatred for getting wrapped up in all of this, and once he finally adapted to the pain and finally quieted down, the device kicked on again, seemingly hyperventilating as the pipes rapidly inflated and deflated, from constricting his cock to barely even touching it.

There was a single pipe at the base of his cock, just beneath his sheath that remained painfully tight, but it meant nothing to the rolling motion the other pipes created. It began at the base of his sheath, and pipe by pipe it worked its way up to the tip of his cock, and there was a suctioning that tugged all the skin of his length towards the tip, making the sticky, unlubricated rubber even more tantalizing. This process took a little under one second to accomplish, and once it ended the last iteration it began the next with no cooldown or relaxation period. Jared hung there by his hands and knees, screaming through whimpers, grunts, groans, and moans. He was in absolute agony, and it was only going to get worse.

Five minutes went by, the whole time Jared was squirming and writhing in both pain and arousal, and finally Howard positioned a device and flicked it on without warning. A lubricated metal rod, probably an inch longer than Howard's length and twice as thick all the way around, began to force itself all the way in and all the way out of Jared's anus. Inch long plastic tags on the rod flicked harshly as they entered his ass, turned around, and flicked out as they left, in a constantly repeating, ending, and ongoing process that seemed ceaseless in every manner. Jared's screams only got louder, and it made sense because it only took just under seven seconds for the device to oscillate through its entire cycle.

Howard left him there, and the door slamming shut was the sound that signaled to Jared that he was now alone. He knew it could only be a few minutes, and continued screaming. He slowly became tolerant of the feelings, and his screaming subsided, but his emotion turned to worry as he began to fear that he'd been ditched. Ten minutes went by, and the devices kept pounding and sucking away at his body. He tried not to think about them, but it only made it worse, having two things distracting him from the each other.

He came hard and felt himself lower a little bit when he did. The machines picked up the pace, and he suddenly started tasting a sickly sweet and milky material ooze from the ball. He figured it was his own cum, but quickly realized that it couldn't be, simply from sheer quantity. He hung there, suckling at this ball, swallowing all of this substance so as to not drown in it, and over stimulus brought him to a climax once more.

He lowered again, the machines picked up pace again, and the substance became warmer and thicker. For an hour this continued, 'til finally Howard returned, finding searing hot substances bubbling out of Jared's mouth as he lay on the floor with the device at his anus sliding rapidly and smoothly in and out of his stretched hole. The pump on his crotch was loose and oozing cum and oil, and this destroyed sight pleased Howard. He went over and removed the ball gag, laughing as Jared spat up the hot milk, panting and wheezing while the moisture in his breath glistened in the artificial light.

Howard laughed, and in his sly, controlling voice, "I bet you'd like to trade places now, wouldn't you?"

Jared couldn't form words, let alone sentences. He nodded through a guttural grunt and continued panting. Howard smirked, and put the ball gag back in, and adjusted the magnets so that he was hoisted back up into the air. Jared began screaming again, and a minute later found the blind fold being removed to find himself starring at, well, himself. Howard was wearing his clothes, buttoning up the top button of his shirt before looking down at Jared again.

He flicked Jared's nose and walked away, "I'll come check on you in the morning." Howard vanished from sight, and the basement door slammed shut. The room was loud with the sound of magnets whirring against Jared's weight, the pump was wheezing audibly, and the device pounding on his ass made little flicking noises as it loosened his hole. Jared closed his eyes as they watered, and he began suckling at the substance again. He came hard once more, but he wasn't lowered, the devices didn't pick up speed, and the substance remained as hot as it had been. He groaned lulled out of consciousness, and felt himself already beginning to near climax...