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Binding Dice

For Razim

By Draconicon

The clatter of rolling dice echoed through a room that was already too loud by half. The shouts of patrons ordering another drink, the occasional laugh or yelp of a waiter or waitress getting goosed by a patron that'd had too much - or too little - and the poof of some spell going off that shouldn't have all contributed to the din that rocked the building. It was hard to imagine it getting any louder, and it was something of a miracle - or a warning - that the dice clicked and clacked against the table as loudly as they did.

"Ha! Another win for me," Damien said, the red-furred fox leaning back against his chair. "Looks like that's the last of your cash, my friend."

"Oh, give me a chance. It's just some fun, after all."

"Is that so? Is that so, indeed, Zim?"

The sableroo chuckled, shaking his head. Half-marten, half-roo, and melded together in a way that even he didn't understand, Zim looked down at the table. His cash was gone, but it was too early in the night to retire, and certainly too early to stop playing. He grabbed for his dice -

"Ah ah. No playing without stakes, my friend," Damien said.

"Come on, we can keep rolling, at least."

"Not with these dice."

"Oh? Next you'll claim that they're actually magic."

"Mmmm, who says they aren't?"

Zim chuckled. For all that the inn echoed with spells and old magic, he had his doubts that the fox could have seriously found a set of magic dice. While that would have explained his many wins, he doubted that the inn staff would have allowed Damien to keep them when it would drive away customers. Any inn that allowed magical dice tended to start losing clientele pretty quickly, and they soon went out of business since nobody wanted to lose their money for nothing in return.

"Fine, fine. What'll it take for your 'magic' dice?"

"Hmmm, a little bet of servitude, perhaps?"

"Come on. That's ridiculous."

"For one night per game."

"Heh...and does that mean I get you as a servant if you lose?" Zim asked.

"I won't lose, but yes."

"Mmm, I guess that's fair. Fine. That's the stakes. Servitude."

"Lovely."

Damien smiled, and for a split-second, it seemed almost like he felt a tingle running down his spine. Zim dismissed it with a shake of his head and a wiggle of his whiskers, however, and took his dice. Time to roll.

#

Nearly an hour later, he was down by more than thirty rounds, leaving him in debt for over a month. He shook his head, finally passing the dice back. The fox made them disappear into a cup, and the cup disappeared into his belt, as if the set had never existed in the first place.

"And that is that. A month of servitude for you, my friend."

"Starting next month. I have a couple of jobs to take care of," Zim said, the sableroo pushing himself to his feet. "Sorry, but you -"

"Oh, no, no, that's not right at all. You made the bet without mentioning that, and the bet will be paid."

"Come on. It's a game."

"A magic game."

"Okay, look, I played along with the idea, but - gah!"

A sudden pressure around the back of his neck shoved him down, and before he realized what was going on, he was pulled under the table. He grunted, grabbing for whatever was dragging him along, but there was nothing there. No leash, no collar, no nothing, except for the same tingling sensation that had run down his spine at the start of the game.

As he was pulled right up to the fox's side of the table, barely hidden by the tablecloth that ran down either side, he realized that Damien was slowly pushing his boots off. One large foot and then another came free, a faint hint of musk and sweat coming from the boots themselves, though less attached to the large feet that were dragged free. One rested on the floor while the other pushed right against his cheek, grinding down along his jawline right to his lips, where the toes started dancing.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"Ah ah. You agreed. One night per round lost, you will serve me however I like."

I never said however you liked!

"And what I want, for now, is for you to start at my feet. Lick them. Serve them. Worship them."

"Mmmph!"

"Go on. Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue."

He opened his mouth, but it wasn't his choice. That same tingle and pressure on the back of his neck had moved around to his mouth, forcing it open, making him stick out his tongue without any input from him. His eyes went wide as he tasted the soft furred flesh of the fox's toes, his friend's foot grinding down against his lips before forcing the toes past his lips. It was thick and heavy, not nasty, not dirty, but with that unmistakable taste of foot right against his tongue.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"Suck. That's a good boy."

The phrase 'good boy' pulled that pressure around his neck even tighter, almost like some sort of magical collar. It pulled him closer, and he shivered as he felt those toes pushing in and out of his mouth, dragging along his tongue before pressing against his lips again, only to force their way into his muzzle once more. He could all too easily imagine Damien flexing his fingers, pulling on a leash that only the fox could see over the table, keeping him pinned in place as he was made to suck toes and lick between them.

He was thankful that they were, at least, clean, and that was something that he tried to focus on. No dirt, no filth, just the soft taste of foot and toes and the occasional bit of sweat here and there. Nothing filthy, nothing nasty, just feet.

Feet for him to lick.

Feet for him to worship.

Feet for him to serve.

Before he could stop it, the words were pulsing through his head, and he groaned as he found himself lifting his hands up to support that foot, dragging his tongue from the heel to the toes, sucking on several of them before doing the same licking motion again. Over and over, he licked from the bottom of the fox's foot all the way to the toes, licking pads and fur alike, and he couldn't stop himself.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"A month of this might just make you want to stay there. The magic of the dice will keep you happy enough underfoot, heh..."

The fox curled his toes, trapping Zim's tongue, and the sableroo blushed worse as he realized that he couldn't pull it back. He was trapped there, made to keep tasting the spot just between them. It was hotter, slightly bitter, but not bad. It did, however, send a tingle right down to -

"Very happy, as a matter of fact. A happy little sableroo under my feet..."

"Mmmph..."

He'd half-expected to get hard. It wasn't the first time that he and Damien had engaged with a bit of 'fun' together, though this was the first time that it was so magically inclined. However, he hadn't expected to start throbbing. He could feel his cock getting stiffer and stiffer between his legs, rising up and pressing against his trousers. It twitched every time that he got a stronger taste of those toes, and he whimpered as the fox slowly released his tongue.

Now, let's move to the other one...and scoot closer, would you?"

He had little choice in the matter, dragged along until he had his nose pressed right against the center of the fox's raised foot. The stronger scent hit him, the pads and fur not yet licked clean, while the other -

"Mmmph!"

"Yes, that's it. A good boy gets hard when he does well."

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"And you're a very good boy. And you want to be a good boy, don't you? You want to get the good boy rewards."

He didn't even know what that meant, but the soft feeling of those well-licked toes curling around his bulge, pressing it down, teasing him and grinding on him was more than enough to have him panting and huffing against the other foot in his face. He licked without being told, and every time he did, the taste rewarded him with another throb, another pulse down below.

"Mmm, already this hard, and we haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet. Oh, my little Zim. You'll be quite the fun little pet for the next month."

For the next month. Oh, gods, he didn't know if he would be able to get through a month of this. Even now, he was struggling to remember that this wasn't his choice; it was so hard to focus on wanting to get away, on what he would do when all those losses were paid off. He just wanted -

Sniff.

Throb.

"Mmmph..."

"That's a good boy."

He wanted to be a good boy. A good boy that was paying off his debts. He could do that, even if it took him a month.

Or two.

Or three.

The End

Summary: A silly little hybrid ends up making a bet he shouldn't, and ends up losing.

Tags: M/M, Foot Fetish, Body Control, Mind Control, Slavery, Oops, Gambling, Foot Worship, Licking, Bulge, Footjob, Teasing, Sableroo, Fox, Hybrid,