FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"It's a dangerous forest for a lone wanderer," said the innkeeper, an old lynx who missed part of his left ear decades ago, back when he was the one drinking at the other side of the table. There was a funny story about how he lost it, that also involved the scars on his chest, but whenever someone asked he just said "a vixen did it" and changed to another topic. But if one had enough gold in his pockets and could endure to drink more than him, the story was more than worth it.

"What should I expect?"

"Beasts, thieves, that sort of things."

"Sounds like the common stuff one can expect from a forest."

The lynx put a big, wooden mug in the table. The bear of dark mane and eyes brown as his fur, drank from the mug, spilling some of the draft beer over his mane. His shoulder armor clinked as he raised his arm. The beer kept falling down his fur and staining the white shirt under the plain scraped off chest armor. When he put the mug down, it was half way down. He cleaned the dripping beer from his lips.

"Many had died for less than that."

"Mercenary life isn't for everyone," the bear put a heavy pouch over the table.

"Mercenary, huh?" the innkeeper took a couple of gold coins from the pouch, then gazed at the bear. He had a beefy build, with strong arms and sturdy belly under the armor. His face's white fur made for an excellent target, but there was scraps of mud around the cheeks. He had some two sets of scars on his right arm, probably from claws. "Mercenaries come often to this place, seeking exactly what I think you're looking for."

"And what do you think I'm looking for?"

The inn was already quiet. Most of the tables were occupied by sleepy villagers and travelers talking in whispers. But those that stayed awake raised their looks to the bear. The bonfire kept crackling at his back, projecting long, unnerving shadows to the walls. They all waited in silence for the innkeeper to put a sign over the table, clearly against his will. A worried sigh shaken his whiskers as the mercenary took the sign to inspect it.

It was the portrait of a crocodile with a scar vertical to his jaw, starting at his forehead and crossing his left eye, ending at his cheek, close to the upper lip. The upper and lower teeth looked sharp like knives. The male in charge of the sign truly caught the devious look on his eyes and the smile of a trickster, details than one can only caught after being face to face with said person. Under the picture was written with capital letters "ONLY DEAD", and under that, "Proof of death required".

"He doesn't look so menacing," said the bear moments after, still looking at the sign.

"He's not the usual warlock you might be used to hunt. Rumors says he's not even from this world."

"Warlocks aren't suppose to be from our world."

"You don't understand. But neither none of us. What I can assure you is that, from all the mercenaries that came before you, looking for this same reward, just a few made it back. You might find them wandering the roads, completely insane. His magic seems to break the mind of those fool enough to fight him. The darkness that surrounds him obeys his will and chains the foes that get too close. His eyes glow with the color of the blood as he chants the demonic rituals that gives him his power."

But that didn't altered the bear, who was drinking the rest of his beer without caring about spilling it over his fur. When he finished, he left the mug and ask for another one with a cheering manner.

"He's not any different from any warlock I've heard before. And just like them, he will pledge for his soul to the demon that now owns it before I behead him."

The lynx left the beverage on the bar and gave a disapproval look to the mercenary, before getting back to cleaning mugs.

"Bragging is a dangerous weapon, traveler. You better mind your words."

"Leave the weapons to me, old man, your time is long over. Now, where should I find this warlock?"

"Very well, it's not my job to protect you. As you said, my time is long over," he made a pause, taking a look at the mug's inside, and leaving it in a shelf being happy with the result. "Northwest from here, it's a three hours travel. You can follow the riverbed, it will take you closer to Ginderbell's Cavern, where he has been spotted. If you can listen the cascade you're at the right place. Take the right side of the river and go to the north, you'll find a path to go down safely. Follow it and go back to the cascade, the cavern is behind it. After that, it's up to you. I'll recommend you to wait until morning; your horse is useless for those paths, a thrant might be slower but it will take you safely. Vincent will help you there."

"Very well. Is there a room available?"

"At the end of the hallway, upstairs. Tell me when you're ready so I could prepare your room."

It was after midnight when the bear went to his room. After several mugs of beer, he was now dragging his paws across the wooden floor, fighting against his armor's bindings. The bedroom was small, and lacked any furniture besides the bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe with one door broken. With his 6 feet of height he only needed to raise his hand to touch the plain roof, whose beams started to look rotten. The stained window gave a look to the village illuminated with the dim moonlight, with houses built-in a straight line along the main road, leading to an T intersection.

He was too drunk to care about anything. The few pieces of armor he was used to wear fell to the floor, followed by his clothes, and when he touched the bed he was already asleep, snoring loudly with arms and legs spread over the straw.

He woke up later in the night. The place was pit dark, and he felt himself over a cold and hard surface. Something was holding him against it, something stronger than him. It was warm, but didn't felt like a hand or even fetters. Whatever had him bound was alive, but not from this world. From the darkness appeared a set of red eyes, shining like rubies, in front of him. And they slowly moved closer.

"I'a Karunt Ig. Anru Jazan. Anru J'arzy'Kat. Bi'et fitium vit'ktuz'ary. I'a Karunt Ig."

The chant echoed through his head and felt like a shock running across his body. His bindings tightened. The temperature started to raise. The glow from his eyes became stronger and oddly alluring. The chant continued, but the bear couldn't caught any of his words, sounding like distant voices in the void where he was trapped.

"Danz'ykar'darot. Marit gar'tharol jzardot."

His fur started to get sweaty. His mouth was dry. A tingling sensation grew in his chest. It took him a moment to notice that it wasn't the room the one getting hotter, but his own body. The idea of getting engulfed by the flames assaulted his mind; to die in a place that might not had even be real was terrifying.

"Awake from you slumber, Johann," finally a language he could understood, from a deep voice that sounded all around him.

It wasn't a surprise that the warlock--for he had listened that he could manifest in dreams, which made him felt sure about his identity--knew his name. He probably knew everything about him already.

"Another one come looking for fortune. Don't waste your time trying to speak or move. You're under my control and won't act without my command."

Just as he said, Johann couldn't utter a word. He didn't feel strange. It was like waking up from a long sleep to find your body unwilling to leave the bed for how comfortable it was.

"Your body might be strong, but your mind is weak and easy to submit. It's not hard to find and touch the weakest point in anyone's mind. Those secrets that no one else shall know. I see what you're hiding," in a quick move, the warlock jumped over him. He could feel his presence centimeters away from his naked body, and the red glowing eyes dancing slowly from one side to another, luring him. "I see the thoughts that you have. The inner urge you try so hard to suppress," a hand waved over his face, covering his red eyes for an instant, and made his temperature raise more and more. Without noticing it he started to pant. The void was immediately replaced by a luxury room, where he was being cared by males of many ages, familiar faces that looked so happy--almost glad--for being on his knees for him. Their hands ran over his body, anxiously calling him with their eyes full of lust and desire. They were all naked and with their members full erect. Such display of sodomy was forbidden, and excited him in a way he never felt with any female.

"Yes, this is what you really want. Forget your quest and I'll give you this and more."

One of the warlocks' claws hovered over Johann's forehead. Quickly, he moved it down to his hips, and the bear shook violently in pleasure. His member grew fully erect in a matter of seconds, with pre dripping from the tip. Completely on his power, the warlock took his manhood and slowly pulled up and down, apparently enjoying the way the bear twitched in his place.

Back to his vision, Johann was now being pleased by a lynx in the same way the warlock did it. His heart pounded heavily against his chest, as that old lynx focused completely on giving him the most pleasure possible. His hands were soft and warm, and his rough tongue wrapped around the tip. All of that was wrong, and Johann wanted it to stop. But his body thought different, having his hips already thrusting the lynx's mouth, who accepted gladly his 7 inches manhood.

"No need to resist. Your body knows what you want. Feel the pleasure grow stronger in you. Reject it and it will drive you mad. Don't fight it. Accept the gift I share with you and go back to fully enjoy it with those that desires the same. The touch of any male will be electrifying. Your strength and your body will submit them. Your pleasure will be their pleasure, just as it is my pleasure right now. They will live to follow your commands. And you will live to enjoy the pleasure that only males can give to you."

The warlock's voice came like a distant call in his vision. Johann kept fighting, ordering his body to stop. But the pleasure built up faster as he thrust the lynx's mouth. It was maddening. He twitched and stretched. His tongue hang from one side, and he drooled over his belly. He could listen the warlock enjoying his suffering (pleasure), and he tried to ask him to stop(keep going), but nothing but moans came from his mouth.

"Yes, give up. Give it to me and I shall reward you."

It was wrong (so pleasant). He finally came, holding the lynx against his crotch and giving him his seed to drink, as he reached an orgasm so intense it took his breath away. Johann closed his eyes as the vision faded back to the void, and the warlock's voice sounded loud and clear in front of him.

"I know your weakness now. Take my gift and leave this place. Continue and I will take everything away from you."

And Johann fell asleep again.

He woke up with the sunlight hitting his face. Whatever he dreamed last night faded quickly, leaving nothing but an odd feeling that he couldn't describe. The fur over his belly felt hard, and the rest was all sweaty and stinky. He would take a bath before leaving, and while doing so, he would thought about whether if he was doing the right thing or not. The price for the warlock's head was high, but taking other jobs he could equal or even surpass it, without taking too much risk. On the other hand, something inside him wanted to go where he was. Something odd, a feeling of... desire.

After having a quick meal--with the presence of the old innkeeper causing a tickling sensation in his crotch when he was close--Johann, now sheathed back in his mercenary outfit, took the road down for the last building, a barn where Vincent Rytmert had his finest thrants, a sturdy creature bigger than a feral bull and with the gray skin of a rhino, whose head resemble a scarab for the large mandibles that looked like antlers--commonly used for its strength to break trees and move heavy obstacles of the way.

A tall fox was waiting at the road that led to the barn. His clothes weren't any different from the rest of the villagers--brown pants and white shirt under a leather vest--except for the dirt and mud that one should expect from a male that works a farm. Just a few inches lower than him, and strong-look enough to defend himself. Arms and legs were of a dark fur, same with his muzzle and some tufts in a straight line that went from his nape to the forehead, with touches of white on the chest and neck and the rest of it being orange. A sheathed sword hanged from his belt, and a bow and quiver at his back. Two saddled thrants grazed at his back.

"Good morning," Johann waved. "You must be Vincent."

"Yes, I am. Denrick told me you will come," his voice was calm and somehow melodic. He imagined him as the bard of the inn.

"Denrick?"

"The innkeeper. He came earlier to ask me if I could prepare a thrant for you. Good beast for this terrain."

"I guess one is for you."

"I've been hunting in this forest since my childhood. I know it better than anyone. And you need a guide unless you want to give a fest to the local wildlife. Mercenary or not, the forest is tricky. I move aside once you get to the cavern, and bring you back safely if you made it back."

"And I suppose there's a price for your services."

"You won't spend a coin. I want that monster dead more than anyone in the village. Not good for the business. And he already took my father and brother's lives. Just let me take a look at his head and take something I can sell and we're even. It's a deal?"

Johann had to admit it, smart as a fox. Charismatic, too. The bear had a smile on his face, convinced that an experienced hunter might be come at handy. He nodded and asked to see his weapons just to be sure they were in good condition, and the fox did the same with the saddles. Both satisfied, they mounted the beasts and started the journey towards Ginderbell's Cavern.

During most of the travel they went quiet, as Vincent said it was dangerous to lower your guard in a place already infected by the warlock's evil presence. "It's hard to listen over the thrants' footsteps. Keep quiet when I tell you," he said before entering the forest, but Johann preferred to stay quiet unless he speak to him. Besides, something in his voice made him feel secure; it was like if doing what he said was the best for him. Now and then they talk about the life in the village, the life in the capital, the life of a hunter and the life of a mercenary--which made them conclude that they get paid for a different type of head--and other meaningless things. But when Vincent raised his hand, Johann went silence.

At one point of the journey, the bear said. "You don't look like a fighter type. I'm impressed."

"Is that so? What makes you think that?"

"The first impression, I guess. But you really know how to use that," and he pointed at the bow.

"My father taught me well," said Vincent with a chuckle. "He always said that being faster was more important that being stronger if you wanted to hunt. Sturdy beasts aren't quiet, and their footsteps are louder. They might have troubles getting an arrow from the quiver and hiding in the forage. I might not be good for the battlefield, but in this forest I can take a dozen of males like you in a matter of seconds," he stopped his thrant and get down. "We should rest. You can already listen the waterfall from here, so it will be good for you to recover some energy. Riding this things is tiring."

Vincent was right. It was a murmur, but he listened the waterfall. And yes, his back was killing him.

By the time he left the saddle, Vincent was already at the river, with his paws under the water. He left his vest hanged on a tree branch, and was now in the process to take his shirt off. Johann bit his lip by the look of the fox's muscular back, covered in silky orange fur.

"It's a hot day, don't you think?"

It did felt warmer than that morning, even with the trees blocking the sun. Johann nodded, not sure if Vincent was waiting an answer.

"If I finish my errands early I come to take a bath at the river. The water is perfect for this weather. It's so fresh I can stay here for hours," he was unbuttoning his pants when he looked at Johann over his shoulder. "I hope you don't mind," but once again, no answer was waited, and he left the last piece of clothes fall to the floor, showing his the back of his naked body.

What were those words in his mind? Johann felt shame for how he stared at the vulpine. It was improper. But that damn fox wagged his tail in such a way it was impossible not to look. He thought how soft it would be, and the way he would moan when he started to-Wait! What was he thinking? He blocked these thoughts years ago. There wasn't a reason to behave like that again.

Vincent dived into the water, emerging with his entire fur soaked. Johann gave a half turn, feeling his cheeks burning. When he looked down he found his bulge growing faster. His heart pounded heavy against his chest. A cold sweat ran down the fur of his back.

"Are you ok?" asked Vincent.

"Yes, just... just making sure the saddle was in its place.

After a brief moment of silence, with the river being the only thing he heard, he jumped after feeling Vincent's hand over his shoulder. With a quick turn, he faced the naked fox who had a playful smirk on his black muzzle.

"I told you should rest. Being this stressed won't help you at all. Stay still, I'll help you with your armor."

And he stood still, just like Vincent said, even when he couldn't fight with the nerves of having him so close. The fox moved his hands to remove everything he had over him, starting by the shoulders armor. He took it off easily, and continued with the chest plate. Johann's body just reacted when need it, but no when he tried to push Vincent away. No matter how hard he tried, it was like if something else was controlling his body. And weren't Vincent's eyes golden? They weren't red, that was for sure.

His body was now unprotected. When the fox tried to take off his belt, from where his sword hanged, an inner reflect made his arm react in time to stop him, by seizing his wrist to the point he could easily broke him. The vulpine gave a small shriek and tried to run, visibly worried, but whatever was holding Johann back had lost power. Even the glow in Vincent's eyes disappeared, and was now replaced with the familiar look of those that are about to pledge for his life. Was this the warlock's work? Who knows. But he unsheathed his sword just to make sure. What better way to prove how sharp his blade was?

"Are you ok?" he asked, enjoying the irony of the situation. In one of the fox struggles, Johann released his wrist, letting his scared victim fall to the muddy floor. "You look tense. Why don't you let me help you with that?"

Vincent dragged himself back to the river, letting Johann enjoy his desperate attempt to escape. When his body was close to the water, hoping to see the blood flew along the stream, he raised his sword and aimed for one lethal blow. But the clever fox threw a handful of mud to his face in a quick and precise move, giving him just enough time to move away from the furious swings Johann gave expecting to hit him. He cleaned his face as fast as he could, but Vincent wasn't at the water anymore. When he turned back, the fox blew something to his face and almost immediately his body went limp, falling like a trunk.

"I told you, a dozen of males like you," was the last thing he heard before falling into a deep sleep.

The sound of water falling woke him up. He was in some sort of cave illuminated with torches. The air was moist and heavy, and his fur felt humid already. The uneven floor and wall hurt his skin. Something was around his neck, and after a quick check, he identified as a fetter with a chain attached to the wall. His blurry vision also caught two silhouettes in front of him, that slowly took shape as he recovered from whatever happened at the river.

That's right! That damn fox! Johann jumped to his paws and tried to run, forgetting about his bindings and being pulled back to the ground, much for the delight of whoever was watching him. His laugh was familiar, but he couldn't came with a name. He got up and lean against the wall, coughing violently.

"I suppose you didn't listen my warning," said the stranger. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm glad to have you here. But I don't see how this can be good for you."

"Who... who are you...?" Johann managed to say.

"You came this far looking for me and suddenly don't know with who you're talking to?"

It could be? The bear almost fell back, wishing he was wrong about who was his captor. But his vision had recovered, and when he turned to the silhouettes his heart almost stopped after looking at the crocodile that was seated in front of him, whose face he recognized from the sign. His scales were all red under the brown, old robe that covered his body, except from the chest, belly and under part of his tail, whose color was clearer; at the left side of his chest he had a mark with the shape of an eye, made in some kind of tribal design. Halfway on his tail it fade to black, being the tip dark as the night itself, and pressing to the ground, right where his shadow--that he could swear was moving--was. At the right side, hovering between the ground and his claw, was an old and heavy book, big enough to be used as a small shield.

But the initial fear was soon replaced by embarrassment. The warlock was naked under the open robe, and show no shame for being watched like that. He was, actually, enjoying it, having one leg crossed. At the other side of the stone chair, Vincent was on his knees, naked, taking care of the huge reptilian paw by slowly rubbing and pressing it with his thumbs. He seemed in some kind of trance.

It was then when Johann noticed his lack of clothes , and rushed to cover his manhood from the smiley crocodile.

"Why do you cover yourself? No one here judge you for something so common like nudity. Although I understand this is a different time."

"Don't you dare to use your tricks on me!" Johann roared, trying to look and act intimidating. But the naked fox was distracting him, with his slim body and the wag from his hips...

"But I already use them, don't you remember? You wanted to go back home this morning, you just don't know why. You thought about taking small and easy jobs instead of something so risky like this. Well, it was me," the astonished bear shake his head in disbelief, but there was no other explanation of how he knew that. "Why do you think he bring you here?" the crocodile pointed at the fox. "Did you believe he wanted revenge? No. He guided you because I commanded him to do it. This little fox has nothing in his mind; no one in this town has. I marked every one of them during their dreams, whispered to them and cleaned whatever sign of free will they had from their minds. No one in this village act, think or even breath without me knowing it. I let them have the illusion of a life, but when I need them they forget everything. Some of the mercenaries that came before you found a home at this place, and even thank me for cleaning their minds of the guilt and regret that bring years of killing. It was my gift to them, for letting me alone. It could had been yours, too. But here you are, even when I warned you."

The warlock stood and walked towards him. The book followed him, moved by some invisible cords so it always faced the palm of his right hand. Johann moved backwards until he met the wall. Before he could defend himself, his wrists were held it by black tentacles coming from the crocodile's shadow. Strong as steel, they easily pulled him down to his knees. The crocodile took him by the chin and made him look up to him, to his red-glowing eyes. The book opened as he opened his hand, and the pages turned by pure magic.

"Let's get rid of your name first. There is no need for you to have one," he said with a hissing voice that echoed in his ears.

Johann felt like if something was being pulled from his insides. It wasn't physically painful, but still had the urge to scream even when nothing came from his throat. The edges of his vision became blurry, and the crocodile was the only he could see. Without opening his mouth he listened chanting in a language he couldn't understand. Johann felt falling into a state of slumber. In the crocodile's eyes he saw his own memories playing in reverse, and whenever one ended he felt something was missing in his mind.

"W-what... are you... doing?" he managed to mutter.

"Don't waste your energies. There is no need to resist," he replied with a huge smile, showing off his huge fangs.

"N-no... stop...!" he tried to look away, in vain.

"You are no match for me. Surrender to the oblivion. Feel your mind being cleansed of the pains that life has brought to you. There's nowhere else you want to be but here, on your knees for me."

"Please... no more..." he begged. Something was wrong. He forgot how he ended there, the faces of his friends, the feeling of his sword's grip, along other things. Those memories stayed in his mind, but meant nothing to him, for he saw them as mere products of imagination, probably tales narrated by a drunken warrior on a tavern. And as he keep looking those glowing eyes, more memories became insignificant to him.

"This is home. This is happiness. There's nowhere else you wanted to be but here."

"No... no!"

And with a huge effort he broke the spell the warlock had over him, looking down and gasping heavily. The crocodile almost tripped in his surprise. He contemplated the bear for a moment, then went back to his chair.

"I'm impressed you fought back. Didn't expected you to be that tough. Being honest? That makes it more fun."

With a snap of his fingers, the fox walked slowly with his eyes fixed in the bear. He raised his left hand and the bear jumped on his paws, pulled by an invisible force.

"What? Stop!" he said after seeing Vincent going back to his knees in front of him, but the fox wasn't listening to anyone but the crocodile.

He took the bear's member with both hands and rub it up and down softly, closing his lips around the tip. Johann gasped by the soft touch, and his entire body shivered. He didn't want that, but it felt so good. He never felt such pleasure before. His manhood started to grow, going deeper into the fox's maw. It was warm and wet, and his tongue licked like if he was worshiping it. Why he had to enjoy something forbidden? Why he was moaning and trembling for that?

(Stop, please!)

"Keep going..."

(I don't want this...)

"It feels so good..."

None of the words he thought came from his mouth. It was... it was what he wanted him to say. The crocodile was staring at him, with his member completely erect and out of his slit, dripping and throbbing within the grip of his hand.

(It's disgusting...)

"I want to taste it..."

The crocodile (master) chuckled by the struggle Johann made.

"Why you keep fighting like that? Deep inside you know this is what you want. These are your desires, what truly brings you pleasure."

Johann felt silky fur in his hand, but he was too focused on the crocodile. On his red glowing eyes. On his throbbing manhood. He wanted to feel disgusted by all of that, but he couldn't. Something inside his head said he liked it. It was the warlock's voice, but also his. He imagined himself in the same place the fox (what was his name?) was before, pleasing it with his mouth just to make him happy. And he knew it was wrong, but he also knew it was what he wanted. The crocodile whispered those fantasies to him, and his body reacted.

"The fight is over, warrior. This is your reward."

He couldn't ignore his words nor the way he walked back to him, with his tongue passing over his lips. He looked taller than before, even taller than him.

"Your body already accepted it. It's your turn to do the same."

The crocodile made him look down and, much to his amazement, he found himself on his knees, face-fucking the fox that was all on his fours, wagging his tail more for the crocodile's enjoyment than his own. Both hands were holding his head, leaving him no choice but to receive his thick manhood, as he drooled over the floor. The red reptile knelt and arched his back, slowly shoving his member inside the fox's rear, who opposed no resistance. But Johann was the one who moaned after feeling huge pressure around his member. And when he closed his eyes, he watched through the crocodile's eyes, and felt the fur around the hips on his hands, and the sweat on his chest, and he watched the empty bear in front of him.

"Wha-what... what are you doing... to me...?" he begged for an answer, looking back through his own eyes to the malicious smile the crocodile gave him.

"My pleasure is your pleasure," he said back, with his hissing voice that wrapped around his ears. "My mind is your mind. You shall not worry anymore, for I take care of you."

"Don't... please... let me..." but he stopped. The red glowing eyes caught him again like honey to ants. His memories playing once again.

He was humping as fast as the crocodile. No, it was the crocodile doing it. And it felt amazing. The pleasure built up with every thrust, too close to reach his orgasm but not enough to finish. And for how long they have been doing it? Both were already soaked in sweat. In truly looked like ages for him, or maybe they had just begun, it was hard to tell. Notion of time meant nothing to him. He just wished for the crocodile to enjoy it. Because then he would enjoy it.

"Yes, that's right. Let it go," he took it by the chin and pulled him closer. Johann felt something being pulled by those wide red eyes. "Clean your mind of everything. Free yourself of the bonds that tied you for all these years. You will be free here. You will be happy. This is your home now."

Everything in his head became blurry. Faces, names, places, all of his travels and adventures, they meant nothing. He let the crocodile take them away. One by one, his memories were erased. And he... enjoyed it. He was happy. A burden was removed from his shoulders, and now he was free.

"Well done. Become a dumb, dumb bear. Let me fill that emptiness in your mind. Let me give you true happiness. My happiness. That's the only thing that matters to you."

"Your... happiness," he repeated, and felt glad when the crocodile smiled at him.

He humped harder, just like his master. Pre and saliva dripped out from the fox's maw, who was already finishing as the crocodile commanded. His seed spread in the ground, and his ass tightened around the thick crocodile's manhood to give him the most pleasure possible, for his pleasure was his own. And he was happy after feeling his member throbbing inside, breeding him with his warm seed, that will reassure his power over him. The reptile let out a loud moan, reaching a potent orgasm that was immediately transferred to the bear. And it hit him hard. The pleasure ran through his body and made him finish, giving his seed for the fox to drink. His fur bristled and his body trembled. He roared along the crocodile, enjoying an orgasm for the first time in his new life. And when it ended, everything went black.

It took him some time to get used to the hard work at the farm, but Vincent was comprehensive, and helped as much as he could. After all, having some muscles was more than perfect for the job. It was a huge twist from the life he had at the capital, from where he ran away, tired of it. Living there, where no one could find him, that was excellent. It paid well, too; his own lodging and the best beer of the region. And well, some company from the farmer and the innkeeper at night were good, too. It was a good life.

There was one thing that puzzled him. Once in a while, strange visions invaded his mind when he tried to sleep, seeing through the eyes of a crocodile who was fucking males he met from the village. It wasn't something bad. He actually liked it. Those were the strongest orgasms he ever had.