Therapy - Session 7
#7 of Therapy
_The dalmatian sits upright, shuffling cards in an unbroken cycle. "Do you gamble?" he asks, smiling brightly before setting the deck in front of you. "I love cards. It's not about winning the money for me, it's more about the idea of taking those risks and seeing them work in your favor. Even if we were doing it for 'points' with no cash awarded, I still put my all toward winning."
As you reach to cut the deck, a spotty paw raises to touch your hand, stopping you. The first moment of physical contact between the two of you. His fingertips are warm. "I don't like to see decks cut. I think it cuts the luck in half, too. Then again, when my grandmother taught me that, she also taught me how to deal from the bottom of the deck." He pulls the four cards from the bottom and sets them in a row. He turns each slowly, revealing all four aces.
"It's more or less a magic trick, but if you cheat while gambling, you can net yourself some big rewards. I think the risk of getting busted is equal to the risk of gambling itself," he muses before mixing the aces back into the deck and returning to his shuffle.
"How about Blackjack? I never learned to count cards, but I just never got into the simplicity of the game. I need to make some more tactical decisions beyond hit or stand. Did you know that at most casinos, if you're dealt 21, you get a better payout than if you had a 16, hit a 5, and stayed with 21. A natural blackjack is more valuable than piecing one together with the right card. But in the end, 21 is still 21."
He draws one card off the top and sets in front of himself. "Cruising is similar. You can find some guy on the internet without problems, and a lay is still a lay, but where's the fun of finding a Natural event out in the wild, just finding a guy who's raring to go. Maybe it's a matter of opinion."
He looks at the card, tracing a paw around the plastic backing as if his gaze would pierce through it. He smiles, "Five of Diamonds!" He turns it over, the eight of clubs facing upright.
"Well, shit."_
* * *
Family vacations were never really my thing. It's not that I had a bad relationship with my family or anything like that, but they always seemed to pick a place that would be the least fun for me. If you really wanted to follow through and try to analyze me, I guess you could say I didn't get enough affection from my parents. They were never cruel but never too invested either. But in the name of family togetherness, we spirited away to Las Vegas, the original Sin City. There was a certain charm to the open juxtaposition of glitz and sleaze, one that piqued my interest.
Of course, being under the legal age to gamble at the time, every step through a casino was hotly tailed by a security guard, ready to push me back up against the wall should I so much as drift close to a slot machine. Naturally, with my growing adept instincts, I was ready to get into some trouble of my own.
After a bit of a binge from the hotel buffet, I faked a stomach illness to get out of a long evening of stage shows and waiting in the arcade for the two of them to get bored and leave the casino. Finally on my own, I could feel that dark instinct creeping into the back of my mind.
My bag sat open in the corner, clothing strewn about as I dug down to the bottom. I pulled out a tiny pair of leather shorts and skin tight lycra shirt. It's a wonder what you could buy online these days. I worked the leather up my hips, leaving nothing underneath. My balls twitched in the cool pouch as I let my paws drift over my smooth hips, feeling the material before moving on to the next piece. I pulled the shirt on next, the silky fabric encasing me. A deep inhale filled my lungs, shirt expanding and contracting with my chest. Paired with the increasingly slutty outfit, my work boots transitioned into another fetish item. Plain, scuffed, unpolished boots, already dirty from use. I think that was a good message to convey. I felt ready to take on Sin City.
I left the hotel room, carrying only my room key. I had a little less than three hours to find some action before I needed to come back to the room, change, and look innocent. My heels clicked on the floor faster as I moved through the hall toward the elevators.
The doors opened unprompted as I turned the corner, a few people stepping off. I fought down a grin as I felt their eyes watching me, dolled up like a slut as I stepped into the elevator to ride it down to the ground floor. An older badger leaned up back against the wall as if I'd be on my knees the moment he let his guard down. Oddly enough, he was probably right.
"Nice hotel, eh?" I said, leaning back against the wall as the elevator rumbled lower. A low grunt rumbled in his chest as he turned away, studying the wall paneling. I shifted my weight and stretched my arms over my chest, eyes fixed on him to make sure he would watch every teasing movement. The door opened too early to continue my tease, sending the badger barreling out into the lobby.
More eyes turned to stare agast as I stepped out onto that polished floor. I owned the room, keeping all eyes on myself as I walked straight out the door. Night had freshly fallen, and I stood ready for anything. I had no guide to the local cruising areas or clubs, but I knew if I just let instinct guide me, I could find something. Time was already ticking, and every moment wasted would leave me at the risk of being caught.
I raised my nose to the night air, the stench of the city heavy as taxis rumbled through the street. Turning to the right, I began to walk down the sidewalk, letting my feet move of their own accord. A few men whistled at me from passing cars as I moved on the prowl.
But each step lead me further from the glamorous hotel and further into the slums. Fifteen minutes had passed and still nothing. As I passed a convenience store, I patted my hips. "Shit," I mumbled to myself, remembering having left my wallet behind. Now I was a few blocks away, dressed to the nines, and not even able to buy myself a coffee.
There's a sensation for most cruisers when reality begins to sink in before the fantasy has ended. You feel a little nauseous, maybe even a little self-loathing. I leaned back against the brick wall and looked up at the empty night sky, debating on my next move. Instinct had lead me here and provided me nothing.
"Hey, boy," a voice cut me from my thoughts and immediately rejected the oncoming reality. I leaned back against the bricks, stretching my arms up behind my head to make the smooth shirt tigthen across my chest. "You look hungry." I leveled my eyes on the long stretch limo idling at the curb side. A snow leopard eyed me from the open window, beckoning me closer.
I moved up and leaned on the glass, smiling coyly at him. The interior smelled of cologne, probably something expensive though it all smelled the same to me. He adjusted himself, well groomed paw squeezing the front of his designer pants. "How much for a suck and fuck?" he whispered, voice barely audible. My back straightened as again the flickers of reality nagged me.
"I'm not a prostitute," I said, a bit too loudly. The leopard flinched, immediately looking around to be sure no one overhead.
"No one said you were. You're just a good boy on a walk and I'm giving you a cash gift as your friend. Now, get in the car," he said quickly. He opened the door and slid to the other side of the leather seat. I gave a hard swallow, knowing that getting into the car could be dangerous. With a time limit and no ID, I would surely end up stumbling in late if I was lucky. If I were unlucky, I might not make it out alive.. Still, how could I resist such a warm invitation?
I stepped inside and closed the door behind myself. He knocked at the mirrored divider between the driver and backseat, and soon the limo pulled back onto the street, moving away from the dirty slums and back into the glittering city. The leopard pulled a fat wallet from his back pocket, raising it to eye level. It literally bulged with cash, hemorrhaging bills from out the corners. "Now, tell me, how much?"
My mouth went dry. Even if I were to try playing the role of the brave little whore, I didn't know the going rate for a boy my age. If I overshot, I could find myself thrown out on the street. I mustered up a brave little smirk and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Why don't I show you what I can do/ You can pay me what you think it was worth." The leopard began to purr as I sank down to my knees, spreading my legs to give a better view of that bulge. He kicked off a shoe and began to rub a large spotted paw against the pouch. A soft gasp escaped my lips as I started to grind against it, hips rolling with precision.
The large, gray-furred hands unbuckled his belt and pulled the highly expensive pants down, balls and half-hard cock bobbling free. A cold nose made him jump as I dove in, inhaling against his taint. The scent was different from the dirty rednecks I had before. Clean and freshly scrubbed, mixed with that cologne and other scents of finery. Still, a probing tongue made him purr, regardless of wealth or status. It was the based of pleasured and affections, equalizing us all. I licked and teased, blowing cool air across the patterns of the saliva before diving in harder.
My fingers traced along his quickly pumping shaft as my tongue lapped at the heavy balls. A nursing suckle on each made those toes curl against my leather cased bulge, evoking another grinding thrust of my own. A few beads of precum began to form as I lapped faster, pulling each swollen nut into my mouth. The purr grew louder as that strong hand pulled me away by the nape of my neck.
He kissed me hard, hands moving to grope along the smooth lycra, claws pricking at the fabric along my shoulders before sliding down my back. The aggression drew a submissive whimper from my throat. Kisses coated my lips and down my neck before darting back up to my breathless mouth. He kissed and licked and bit everything, testing each area for sensitivity and reaction. Those hands drew back up and seized either side of my head.
"I thought whores didn't kiss on the mouth," I said, working up a smile.
"You'll do what you're paid to do," he replied, giving an almost icy glare before pushing me down toward his cock. I stumbled, struggling to find my footing at the limo turned, the interior shifting wildly as I grabbed onto his thighs for balance. He showed no mercy and pinched my nose to keep me still before slamming down into my mouth again.
A hard thrust gagged me as he dug his cockhead against the back of my throat. The thrusts grew faster and rougher as saliva splattered from my open mouth, soaking his rod and the surrounding fur. My head swam as I struggled for air, paws weakly tugging as his arms as he worked my muzzle harder. With a hard thrust, the head popped into my throat. I gagged and struggled more as the tight slick contractions pushed him over the edge. The head flared as he deposited his load straight down into my stomach.
He pulled free with a wet pop as I fell backward onto the floor of the limo. Air filled my lungs again, the hot burn filling my chest to match the warmth inside my belly. My tongue traced around my lips, the wet residue of cum and saliva soaking into my fur.
"How does that grab you?" I said the best I could. Even attempting to whisper sexily was cut short, my voice still gravely and hoarse from the abuse to my throat.
Before I could move up to sit beside him, those paws grabbed my hips and twisted, nearly sending me into a faceplant on the carpet floor of his limousine. The smell of sweat and cologne grew heavy as his body slid around mine, limbs coiling tighter as I stiffened to support his weight. "Oh, I said I wanted a suck and fuck. Your job is only half over." A shiver ran up the length of my spine as his fingers began to trace along the rear of my shorts.
"Help me get these off," I said, struggling to support myself with one hand and fumble with the front of the leather shorts with the other.
"Oh, I have a better idea," the wealthy stranger said quietly. "Hold very still." With that, he reached back into his discarded pants, hand carefully drawing out something small and black into the palm of his hand. The sound of the spring firing and the click were almost deafening as I seized up, the sounds of a switchblade unmistakable.
I held still, body tensing everywhere as the blood rushed to my head. The flat of the blade pressed against the leather before turning slowly, tracing a slow careful slit over the rear of the leather. I didn't open my mouth to protest or make a noise at all. I just held still, heart pouncing as I kept my tremors controlled, acutely aware of the nearby knife.
"That should do nicely," he said, closing the knife before sliding a saliva soaked finger through the opening in the back. His thumb dug hard into my ass, working the hole open easily. "Easy access and don't have to worry about you touching yourself or anything like that."
He moved on top again as he lowered my shoulders, trying to relax. His cock, still coated with the thick saliva from deep in my throat, pushed the wide head inside. I jumped in surprise, the sting of the first stretch making me squirm. He gave a firm swat to the leather still covering my ass cheek, leaving a muffled thump. He gave another and another, in time with his own thrusts. The sensations all mixed together, heightened by the tightness of the fabrics around my body.
His hips collided with the torn shorts, laughing as he held his slutty prize in his arms. That huge tail wrapped around me, leaving an electric train of sensations across my body as fur contrasted with the lycra. I squeezed tighter, evoking moans and grunts from the wealthy man. I moaned and thrust back harder, living the gimmick, becoming the dirty whore from the slums.
"I want to fuck you till you break! I want to wreck you!" he shouted, the limo taking another sharp turn to send us tumbling sideways. He wrestled me like a gator, tossing me upright with his arms hooked under mine to keep me still. He fucked up into my eager hole before slamming to the hilt. He snarled and bit hard, tearing a hole straight through thin fabric of the shirt. His cock pulsed and twitched, emptying out a load even bigger than the first into my well used ass. I gasped and squirmed, left breathless as he yanked unceremoniously from me, leaving me in a happy puddle, tail curling down to try to hide the slit in the back of my shorts.
His face grew dark, almost disgusted before fishing out a few bills from his wallet. He knocked on the glass before tossing the handful of cash onto my cum splattered body. A disgustingly wonderful sense of accomplishment spread through me, starting from the still warm load swimming in my belly. I gathered up the cash and stuffed as much as I could into those skin tight pants. The limo came to a stop outside my hotel and he opened the door. I barely managed to get my feet on the ground before he shoved me from behind and sped off. A few people turned to start as I straightened myself up, heading back through the front door.
I cracked my neck, body stiff from the awkward position in the limo. A hot shower would feel great before my parents made it back to the room. That's when I saw them.
My parents. On the other side of the lobby. My heart started to pound as the fantasy world came crashing down around me, suddenly realizing that their little boy was standing in the lobby, dressed like a whore. Hell, I -WAS- a whore that night.
And with every second wasted panicking, they were getting closer.
* * *
_The dalmatian lets his story trail off, staring at his cell phone. He toys with it, smiling.
"Sorry, I'm going to end this one early. I have a date. And by date, I mean a location where there will be someone blindfolded and waiting for me with the door unlocked."
He stands, smiling just as calmly as ever.
"I don't think therapy is working."_