FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Dragon and the Kit at the Party

The screen is black for three seconds. A wipe transition reveals the face and upper torso of a large dragon scalie staring into the camera. Sitting in an expensive, high backed, leather office chair, he is massive, perhaps seven feet tall. There is no trace of fat on his body. He radiates power and strength like the sun radiates heat. The clothes he wears are custom tailored to his frame using expensive silk and wool blends. His scales are black with silver highlights on the edges that reflect light so that they glimmer like sharpened blades. The pearl colored horns on his head jut forward and upward from just above his fluted ears. The base of each horn is bound by a heavy circlet of gold. His steel-blue eyes are fixed on the camera and they rarely blink. It is an intimidating visage.

Personal password encrypted video log. This is the seventh day since I brought the kit home, and I have decided not to return him to his pimp. I have initiated this log to maintain a record of the changes that I sense occurring within myself. I can't explain exactly what is happening, but I have had no desire for alcohol since the night I brought him home. There are other sensations and emotions that I can't put words to, at least not yet.

Record for log entry days 2 through 18 skipped. The video is black again before restarting.

Personal password encrypted video log. This day is 19 since I brought Maxwell home. I realized today, that I have never stated my full name in this log. It has been so long since I have let anyone call me anything but 'Sir' or 'Mr. Mandrake,' that it feels odd to say it myself.

My full given name is Sebastian Anthony Mandrake. My parents called me Sam because my initials spell that name, and my given names didn't fit me nearly as well. My mate called me Sam, too. They are all dead having been killed by my father's business rivals, and I try not to think of them anymore. I know that sounds heartless, but losing them led to the emptiness that I spent the last twenty years filling with lust, greed and liquor. For two decades after avenging their deaths by wiping out my enemies and their families, I lived in that hell, building my fortune, sating my lust on prostitute boys and trying and failing to drink away the pain.

Then I met Maxwell. Met is the wrong word; it was more like I bought him. Even bought is erroneous since I only paid enough to have him for seven days. I guess I stole him, but that would mean he was someone's legitimate property. Prostitution and slavery are not legal. His pimp cannot seek restitution in the courts. It matters not. He is mine now, and no one shall take him from me without a fight. I am cognizant of my hypocrisy. I am a dragon, so through my eyes I tend to see everything as property, including people. Everything is an object to collect and to own. That is part of my nature, and I cannot forsake it entirely. For Max, though, I am finding a certain flexibility that is new to me. Contrary to my normal desires, I wish for him to be free to choose his own fate. I wish for him to choose me. He has rekindled a fire inside me that I have not felt since the death of my mate.

The dragon turns his gaze downward away from the camera, then reaches forward to hit the keyboard. There is an awkward video transition back to the dragon.

I have invited Max to a party today. I think it is time we are seen in public together. This will be a test. I am mostly testing myself, I suppose. Can I handle the stress of loving someone again. He is delicate, and I don't want him to be hurt like ...

The dragon cuts the video and it restarts again.

There are dangers, but my fears are irrational. Those who hurt me before are dead. They cannot hurt me or hurt what is mine again.

The dragon reaches off screen and picks up a small glass, which he holds to his lips. It contains an oily amber fluid. He hesitates, then drinks it all in one gulp. He savors the burning sensation as the liquor slides down his throat. Realizing what he's done, he crushes the glass to tiny fragments in his powerful hand and throws the pieces across the room.

I had stayed sober during nearly two weeks of bliss with the kit. The intoxicant that is the little fox's love and affection displaced this distilled substitute for a while. Doubts and fears born from events long past are enticing me back into bad habits.

The party is a costume party. We will be leaving shortly to drive into the city to have our costumes made. I have some ideas. It would be amusing to have him dressed as a knight and me go as myself, a dragon. I have always fancied myself in armor, though. I would like to go as a Roman general. I could be Marc Antony and Max could be Cleopatra. He would look good as a vixen.

It is time to go now. The kit is exited and is pounding on my door. I will update this after we return.

Dear Journal,

It's been about nineteen days since Master decided to make me permanently his. Before I continue, I want to note that Master, despite his temper and mood swings, treats me better than any other man I have met in the last three years. He took me in, got me away from my old pimp, and has even started discussing enrolling me in online classes to catch up on the schooling I've missed. Also, I've been helping out with his business; it's just a few minor clerical things like taking calls and scheduling his appointments. Every night, no matter what kind of mood he was in the previous hours of the day, he holds me in his strong arms, and strokes my back until I fall asleep. He keeps me properly fed and bathed. All things considered, I feel safe with him.

I do have some concerns, though. At first, Master had given up alcohol; however, in the last few days, Master has started drinking heavily again. He says that it's just his way of unwinding from the stress of his work. From what I can tell, he has really been not under any more stress than when he picked me up that first night. I'm starting to worry that it has to do with me. Have I done something? Does he still not trust me? Is it something to do with his past, which he had told me very little about?

Also, I don't get much time to myself. Either we are here at the house, or, when he does go to his office, he has me sit in a locked room with a cellphone and a camera trained on me. The room has everything I could want--snacks, drinks, a t.v., wifi--however it makes me feel like a caged bird. The only time I do get alone is when he goes into his office and leaves me alone to write my own thoughts. I love Master with all my heart, but I feel suffocated. I know this sounds selfish, but I'm a teenager who needs his own time to explore...I have lost three years of my life, unable to figure out who I am because of being forced into prostitution. Not that Master is anything like the other men who I have been with...He pulled me out of that life. I'm grateful for Master; really I am. But, I feel that I don't have his trust, despite all my compliance, obedience, and faithfulness.

This morning, Master told me we're going to attend a costume party of an associate of his. I'm really happy. This will be the first time Master will take me out with him to be a part of his public life. It makes me feel as if he finally sees me as something more than...whatever he sees me as. He told me that it's a very important event and that as his kit I will be representing him and his company. I told him that I understood. I want so badly to make him proud of me and to show him that he can trust me. I'm going to be Master's perfect little pup.

Got to go, we're going to the costume shop. Write later.

Max

***

There is a transition to the dragon now dressed as if for bed in pajamas and a plush, dark purple robe.

The costumes have been made. It was a frustrating and rewarding experience. I don't think the kit trusts my driving, so I had the gardener, be chauffeur today and take us in the town car. I don't understand why I yield to his desires, but I find myself doing it more and more. He has yet to earn his keep beyond sex and some light secretarial work for my business. I am the master, but I am too indulgent, and that was well demonstrated today.

The costume shop we solicited specializes in authentic, costume work. I had already explained my ideas to them in advance so they would have something ready to surprise the kit. To his credit, he tried the costumes on. The knight and dragon idea was a flop. I didn't like it and neither did he. The armor hid too much of his charms and not enough of mine.

The Cleopatra and Marc Antony costumes, though, were superb. I looked good in armor; imposing and in command, every inch the general and master of the world. The kit was exquisite as Cleopatra. The tight semi-shear, white, Egyptian dress clinging to his hips and butt made me hard and glad of the armor for modesty. It was arousing to see him as such a convincing vixen, while still knowing what treasures were tucked away beneath the flimsy fabric.

He admitted the costume was good, but another costume caught his eye. I was appalled when he cast me as the devil and himself as the angel. I could not deny that he looked even more alluring in the diaphanous, see-through drapery of his costume. It was an obvious choice to enhance his most enticing virtue, his innocence. My cock grew even harder when he paraded about in that one. I refused to don my half of the costume. The leather clothes were not so bad, and I admit that the tight fit enhanced my already impressive physique, but the red coverings for my horns and tail were just silly on a dragon of my stature and standing in society. I also suspected he was deliberately framing me as the villain. My doubts concerning his true feeling towards me resurfaced and the corresponding urge for a drink rose with it like a dead body from the bottom of a swamp.

When I refused the red-hot caps and tail cover, he cajoled, pleaded and finally cried. It was the innocent tears that broke the iron chains of my resolve. Though inwardly yielding, I did not let him have his victory without a price. I made him put the devil suit on me in the dressing room. When we were both in costume, I extracted my price for his choice.

To get the angel/devil costume, he had to let me have my way with him there in the dressing room. In hindsight, the price was small since he is mine to have whenever I want. It may be the novelty of the location that drove me to ask for so little, or perhaps it was only a way for me to appear to still be in control. I prefer to think it was the former.

Regardless, the costume and the location drove my desire to new heights with the kit. I truly felt like Satan as I bent him over to rest his hands of the bench while I stroked his supple back and buttocks under the almost nonexistent coverings of his angel suit. It was glorious to have every aspect of the love making become a carnal sin. My little angel was helpless before the demonic beast that I was. It was well that he had proven already that he was capable of accepting all of my prodigious manhood, because once I had fondled and teased his little hole into readiness, I could not stop myself from hilting him. I think he wanted me to believe that he was not enjoying me this way, but his not so little kit prick betrayed him.

Once freed from its plastic prison of the chastity device, I regretted not having removed the contraption the first night. His member is bright red and beautifully tapered like most canid cocks. I was surprised, and pleased that it was so thick and long for one so small. In the dressing room, I stroked that slick staff as I slowly moved my own inside him. I held myself inside him as far as I could so that our balls touched as my own fluids filled him. He wanted to cum, but as part of his punishment for being so willful and contrary, I held his fox cock tight until he begged. Certainly as the ruler of the underworld, I am entitled to make others suffer for their sins. When I was satisfied, I released him to spend his vulpine seed prodigiously upon the floor.

I paid enough for the costumes that the staff could not complain about the mess. We had a simple dinner out with modest food in the kind of modest restaurant that the kit seems to prefer. Tomorrow is the party. I hope we both pass the test.

Dear Journal,

Master is in his study finishing up today's work.

Master had Cole, the gardener, drive us to the costume shop. I think Master is aware that I'm not completely comfortable with his...carefree driving style. Also, it was good for once to hold master's hand and lay on his arm while we were on the road.

When we arrived at the high end costume shop, we were escorted to a huge dressing room where it was just me and Master. We tried the costumes Master had called ahead and had made for us.

First, was a knight and dragon pairing. I felt like a walking tin can. Master's already a dragon, so all he had was some body paint and fake scales. We both looked ridiculous.

Next, was Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Master looked like Aries himself, clad in the Roman style armor, and I could tell that he felt in his element. And, I have to say, that I looked good as Cleopatra. And I did agree with Master that I did look quite convincing as a vixen. But, there was one problem, which I didn't tell master out of fear of his reaction.

I read in college text books, which the Bear pimp gave me as a reward for being a good little fox slut, that Mark Antony and Cleopatra died tragically, and not even together as lovers. I didn't bring this up with Master because I still haven't told him my entire story before meeting him on that fateful night, and I was afraid he might think that I was trying to emotionally manipulate him in some way.

Master decided we would go as Mark Antony and Cleopatra. I was about to agree before something caught the corner of my eye. It was a demon and angel themed couple's costume the store had in stock. I thought it was creative, no one else would think of it; plus, it was for sale.

Master declared, "I have decided, kit, and that's final."

"Can we at least try them on, Master?" I asked with my tail wagging as I spoke.

Master thought for a moment as he snorted out a cloud of smoke from his nostrils. I think my tail caught his eye. "Very well then, boy. I shall humor you."

With that, I happily donned the flowing white garment. Master had me dress him in the jet colored leather pants, vest, and boots; but, with every fiber of who he is, he refused to put on the horn and tail decorations. I tried charm, begging, and then I started to whine. Honestly, I wanted to go as a demon and angel, rather than Antony and Cleopatra. There was something alluring to me about two completely different opposites who are never meant to come together in love; it kinda reminded me of us as a couple. Plus, Master looks really hot in leather.

He looked at me and declared, "My kit, I will let you have your way; in return, I'll have my way with you." He pointed a retracted claw down to his pelvic slit. He bent down and turned around for me to add the last bit of the outfit.

By now, I have learned that Master is most comfortable in control. Also, I believe he does things sometimes just so he can play the role in which he feels in more control. I knew that this was one of those times.

After he turned back around, he gently bent me forward until I was on all fours. He caressed my body through the thin fabric with one claw as he poked at and teased my puckered tailhole with the other. I heard him let out a soft growl. I moaned in response to the sound and feel of his dominant touch.

Something was brought out in him; he had never wanted to fuck in a public place before. I knew this was part of his need for control, so I played my role of his poor boy. Doggy style is his favorite position, although he doesn't last very long with it. That's why he usually saves it for the very end on the nights we have our long sessions in bed. I do love seeing him happy.

To underscore his point, he immediately slammed in his dragonic dong into my defenseless tailhole; I let out a loud scream "Oh, Master! Go easy! Your wanting kit begs you!" I whimpered lightly as my kithood shot forth from my sheath.

He grabbed my chest with one hand and began to play with my tender nipple, causing my body to tighten and writhe while I moaned softly in pleasure. His free claw took hold of my red kit cock and stroked me off as he began slowly working his cock out and in my hole. He sped up, and soon he was working both ends of me at full force. He thumbed at my nipples and licked my ear constantly as we both came towards our moaning climax.

He reared his hips back for one final thrust. He impaled me as hard as he could as he lightly chewed on my ear with his massive jaws. He shot his load in me, feeling my body full of his dragon cum. I was still on the brink myself. My time in the chastity belt still hindered my body's natural function, and my submissive instincts and lust had long taken me over at this point.

"Please, Master...You boy needs release." My body trembled as I pleaded with him.

He gently rubbed my small stomach as he lifted me to my knees and replied, "Angels are supposed to be chaste, kit."

I whimpered and grabbed his hand as tight as I could, prompting him to pump furiously. The heat of the moment made my white chest fur turn a deep red. "MASTER, I'M CUMMING!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I felt my orgasm shoot through my young staff. He tightened his grip at the last moment, forcing me to feel the building pressure under my cock head. "Master, Pleeeeeeeeeeease!" He released his hold on my tool as I shot rope after rope of fox seed onto the floor.

After my climax subsided, Master held me in that position and lovingly traced patterns in my chest fur with his claw. He said, "I shall grant your request kit." Then, he nestled my back into his chest, and he embraced me as his seed filled me up and his massive dragonic cock began to shrivel.

It's moments like this, where I'm in his compassionate arms after a session of love making, that make me forget all my fears and troubles...I love him.

We got dressed, master paid for the costumes, and we left. Master told me not to concern myself with the mess I left on the floor. On the way home, Master took me to that country buffet place I've been asking him to take me to. The taste and smell of the food there really reminded me of home. It took everything within me not to cry in front of Master.

It's almost time for bed. The party is tomorrow. I hope I can do master proud. Write later.

Max

***

There is another three seconds of black screen before the transition wipe to the dragon in his chair. He is wearing his leather vest. Red horns protrude garishly from his head. Unable to grow facial hair, he has a sinister goatee glued to his snout.

Personal encrypted log. Day 20. This is an abbreviated entry. It may be tomorrow by the time we return from the party. The kit had lots of questions about the party. We discussed it while showering together. He was ready for a long bath, but there was no time for that, and I wanted to deny him sex before the party. Things will turn out better if he is a little frustrated. I wanted to have him there in the shower, but I resisted. I want him all the time, and I am forcing myself to have control. With his fur slicked down by the water from the shower, his slender and graceful beauty was emphasized. I stroked and soaped him until I thought I was losing control.

It is too easy to slip into sex with him. He has become an extension of myself that I find I can't live without. Everything he does and every move he makes seems to be in sync with my needs. Yet, I fear that I am smothering him and keeping him as a possession and not a person. Old habits are like cobwebs in a high corner of the room you can't reach. It takes extraordinary efforts to get rid of them, and if you don't work to keep them away, they return.

I spy on him. I keep him locked up. I dominate him. I am drinking again. The cobwebs in my soul are back. This party is my attempt to brush some of those strands away, forever, I hope. He needs a little freedom and interaction with others. If I can't let him do that, then I am simply building more threads of dust in the places I can't reach.

I am confused concerning our roles. Mostly I think of him as my lover and my pet. He fills that role well, but there is more to him than that. He is both attentive to my needs and uses his sexuality and childish innocence to manipulate me. It is when he performs like he did today to entice me to wear these stupid horn and tail covers, that I see how young, innocent and vulnerable he is. That is when I see him for the child he is, and he becomes as a son to me, someone to protect and nurture. These two diametrically opposite feelings then war within me, and only alcohol seems to bring the temporary armistice that I seek. I cannot go on like this. This is worse than my previous state without him. I am beginning to believe this costume is a representation of who I really am, a fallen angel damned to burn for all time.

As he dressed himself in his costume as seductively as he could, the battle raged within me. I wanted to feel the firm curved shape of his ass pressed against my groin, and I delighted in the gentle brushing of his tail against the scales on my belly and chest. At the same time, I wanted to tell him to stop wasting his time on an old worn out dragon and be his own man. He can do so much better than me. He deserves better than me.

I did neither, but as you can see, he won. I am wearing the costume and feel that this outfit is an accurate portrayal as I drink and continue to control him. I will demand sex from him after the party no matter what happens there. I will not give him that choice. Does that make me the devil?

Dear Journal,

Master and I have just finished getting ready for the party. Master is making a quick business call.

Getting ready for the party was interesting. Master insisted on a shower together, which was strange because we usually take baths together. It was nothing to complain about; especially, since master was very loving with me. As he ran the soap over my body, he used his claws to gently work the suds into my fur. Then, after I was covered from head to toe, he turned me to face him and had me be his body brush. It wasn't hard, considering how my soap heavy frame easily ran over his scales.

As I scrubbed him, he grabbed my ass with both hands. I was soaping his neck, so I instinctively wrapped my arms around it. He teasingly poked and prodded my hole. I got on the very tips of my toes and gave him a long soft tongued kiss. We let the water run over us, to completely wash the soap off of both of us.

We got out of the shower to dry off. I stood at the vent, and he pushed the button that started the jets. I braced myself for the rush of air shooting up from my legs and let them do their job. Master was toweling himself off. I helped him after the jets were done. I took care of everything below his chest as he stood their motionlessly. He then brushed my fur from head to toe and said that I had the fur of an angel.

We went to the huge beds in the same room, where one of his servants had laid out the costumes for us. Master sat on the bed had me dress him, a task I was happy to do. I started with the pants; he didn't want to wear underwear or socks with the outfit. I pulled and zipped them up. Then, I put on the boots, having to use almost all my bodily force to do so. Finally, I got up and got his arms through the vest and pulled it tight to him. Again, he refused the crimson horn and tail coverings, so I told him I'd make it worth his while. I put the coverings on him and went to put on my outfit.

I grabbed the gold thong that came with the outfit and turned around with my tail up so that my young butt was facing Master. I put on the revealing piece of under cloth, pulling it up slowly until I felt the fabric fit snuggly in my crevasse. Then, I spread out my flowing one-piece gown on the clean bathroom floor. I positioned myself at the bottom, slipped a paw under one end of the opening and crawled into it as I wagged my tail seductively. I could feel Master's eyes following my concealing behind. The fabric of the garment covered me from my shoulders to just below my knees.

I took the golden rope and tied it around my waist, making a soft grunting noise to emphasize how tight it was on me. I grabbed the golden sandals and sat in Master's lap; I could feel his hardening bulge under me as I leaned my back onto his chest and slipped them on one at the time. I stood up, spun around to Master's side, and slid the white frame with the small fake wings onto my shoulders. Finally, I picked up the final piece of the costume: a golden collar. I got on one knee and presented it to Master with both paws. He took the band. He laced it around my neck, pulling one end through the buckle on the other, and fastened firmly onto my neck.

Using a single claw, he pulled my head by the chin so my gaze would lock with his. He said in that caring yet stern voice, "I want to see that again, tonight, in reverse." Then he gave me another dominant, this time tongue heavy kiss. I was glad to make him comfortable and happy again.

I hear Master's footsteps; it's time to go. Write later.

Max

***

I did not expect what happened tonight. My plan fell apart not long after our arrival. I hired a private detective to keep an eye on the kit so that he would not feel restrained by me watching over him. That should have put me at an ease, but it didn't. The old habits took over leading me to drink excessively.

The detective was a tawny brown kangaroo with an Australian accent and a pot belly. He smoked too much and took too many breaks from his duty. That probably explains how he lost sight of the kit. He won't be getting his full retainer. The boy I hired to accompany him was a reverse colored skunk - white fur with black stripes. The two of them came as some kind of Pokemon. Max explained them to me later, but I don't remember what they were. The idiot boy latched onto me. He must have heard somehow about Max's situation and wanted the same. He was pliant enough and promised me many favors and free use of his body. His mostly white fur and stunning turquois eyes were unique, and before I acquired the kit I would have used him for a while. He would have just been another temporary affair, though. Unlike the kit, he was clingy and whiny and seemed more desperate than innocent. I would likely have sent him back before his week was up. He was using drugs. That was obvious, and I won't tolerate that.

It was the fault of the addict skunk that I became completely separated from the kit and placed in personal peril as I was ensnared in the plot of a business rival who was related in an unknown way to those who had hurt me in the past. Everything I had feared about bringing the kit out in public was coming true, and all because I had not cleaned up all the loose ends from my past. Like the idiot I was, I started the night drinking too much to try to wash the emotional cobwebs away, and the little fool skunk tried to match me drink for drink. The excess of drink combined with whatever cocktail of drugs he had consumed before the party made him sick. No one else was interested in helping him, so I dragged the wretch to the bathrooms. I had barely thrown him into the stall to puke up the booze when I sensed another person behind me.

It was the bear pimp who had rented me the kit. He stood between me and the exit and was blocking the door with his body. His right paw was in the jacket of the pocket of the long black trench coat he wore. He was clothed all in black, but I have no idea what his costume represented. I don't pay attention to popular culture, so it likely would have been irrelevant even if he told me. I suspected a gun was in that paw. There was plenty of room to hide it. I don't carry weapons anymore. I may revise that policy after this.

He carried himself with the swaggering self-confidence of a street punk used to getting his way and bullying others. He was large, broad in the shoulders and nearly as tall as me. He spoke in an annoying slang filled voice full of cursing and mindless rage. I don't remember his exact words. Most of what he said was rambling and idiotic anyway and doesn't bear repetition. In summary, he was angry that I had not returned the kit. He was angry that I hadn't paid for the extra two weeks, and he wanted the kit back. None of this surprised me. I was only confused as to how he knew to find me here at this party. Only well-to-do people like myself had been invited. It made no sense. There was some kind of setup going on, but there were too many unknowns for me to understand the situation.

I was debating whether to pay him off or break his furry neck, when he made the decision for me. He named my business rival, Jack Inle, also known as Black Jack for the color of his lapine fur and for his ruthless business tactics. Now I understood the connection, but I was still ignorant of the reason they were working together and the true nature of my peril until he actually drew the pistol and pointed it at me.

My options had now shrunk dramatically. I examined the pistol to judge its caliber. It looked small enough that it would have difficulty penetrating my thick, armored hide. I might survive a single shot. The silencer on the end would weigh the weapon down and cause him to shoot low if he was unfamiliar with using it so equipped. I prepared myself to spring at a likely opportunity as he explained the nature of his relationship with Black Jack. To my horror, he told me that the black rabbit was an heir to those I thought I had destroyed long ago in revenge for the death of my parents and my mate. Jack was here to take Max as his own, and this stupid, punk pimp was going to kill me for him in revenge for I had done to his family. I chose at that moment to risk the bullet. I could probably buy this punk with money, but that would take time, and I knew now that Max was in danger. Every second was precious to me. For all I knew, Black Jack was already taking Max somewhere beyond even my considerable reach.

As the bear continued to explain how the rabbit had insisted that I die knowing I was losing everything, I prepared to attack. My claws were slowly sliding out of their protective sheaths when two things happened in my favor. Someone tried to open the bathroom door asking if Barry was in there. I later learned that was the pimp's name. This must have been his companion. At the same time, the drug addled skunk staggered out of the stall between the bear and myself with vomit strewn down the front of his costume.

I will not lie or try to excuse how I used that skunk to foil my assassin. Maxwell had become everything to me, and as anyone would act to protect their mate or a mother to protect her child, I was willing to risk this skunk's life to save Max. I charged when the bear turned his attention ever so slightly to the door to yell at his boy companion to get lost. Lifting the emaciated skunk with ease, I flung his skinny body through the air at the bear. It had the desired effect, as he raised his arms to protect himself from the object flying towards him. I was close behind, but aiming low. With me hitting his waist and the skunk impacting against his chest, he fell back hard against the door. Despite the silencer, I heard the gun go off. I hoped the skunk had not been hit, but was not going to regret what I did if it helped me save the kit. The skunk rolled down my back; dead or alive I couldn't say. The bear was stunned from hitting his head against the door. I was able to stand up and grab the wrist of the pistol wielding paw. He was stronger than I thought, but I was able to slam his paw against the tiled wall making him drop the pistol to the floor. As we struggled and fought, the gun was kicked and went spinning across the tiles. Either he was much stronger than I thought, or I am older and weaker than I ever imagined. The amount of alcohol I had consumed may also have been a factor. I could not take him down and we were fighting to a standstill. I may even have been losing. The puking skunk saved me. I almost regret throwing him now.

Somehow he had collected what little wits he had and a grabbed the pistol. I still remember his high pitched whiney voice as he shouted at the bear, "I'll kill you, you fucking bastard! Let him go. He is my only hope." He was crying as he said this. It was clear to me that he intended to shoot the pimp, seeing me as his savior. I did not doubt his sincerity, but I did doubt his aim. To help him with his task, I moved sideways and using all my weight and the strength left in me to turn the pimp around so his back faced the gun wielding teen. The gun went off, with more force than I thought possible. Perhaps I misjudged the gun's caliber, or the silencer gave the bullet more velocity. I felt the impact as the projectile passed through the bear's back and out the front of his chest.

I shouted for the pimp to tell me where Max and the black rabbit were, but he made no sound except the last breath leaving his body in a bloody, wheezing gasp. His face was even with mine. I have seen death before, and I saw his as the light left his eyes. I let him fall to the floor.

The force of discharge of the pistol had thrown the skunk across the bathroom. I took the pistol from him and stuck it in my ridiculously tight pants. I was determined to kill Black Jack. My only hope was the dead pimp's boy. He might know where Max was. In my haste to find him, I threw the bathroom door open in his face and knocked him senseless to the floor. He was as unlikely to be revived in time to help me any more than the bear on the floor of the bathroom. I sank into a black despair at that moment. Was it happening all over again? Was my life repeating itself? Was I destined to lose everything I loved just when I had it in my grasp? I wanted to drink so badly, while at the same time, I never wanted to see another drink ever again. I drew the pistol and held it to my head.

Dear Journal,

It's the morning after the party, and I'm glad that we can put it behind us. A lot has happened in that so short amount of time.

The party was at this high end hotel, and there were a lot of people. Aside from the wait staff, there had to be at least 50 other couples attending; most of which were businessmen and their boy partners. There was a variety of costume choices. Some were expected: the superhero and his boy sidekick in spandex, a Frankenstein and his boy bride in drag, a teacher and his lad dressed as a Japanese schoolboy; on the other hand, there were ones that were more creative: a boy dressed as young noble woman attended by her older butler, a hula boy with a tiki god, even a young Pokemon trainer and his Mega Charizard (kinda wished I thought of that one). My favorite had to be the wildman recently defrosted from a block of ice with a young boy scientist in a lab coat.

After we arrived, Master conversed with some business associates of his while I just kept silent, only speaking momentarily to return greetings and answer a few questions. Master looked at me and told me to go mingle on my own. I said that I was fine, but then he gave me his "that is final" look of his. I bowed with a "Yes, Master" and went to talk to a few random men. I received a lot of warm greetings and had some good conversations.

I was afraid because I recognized a lot of these men. It probably goes without saying that they were past clients of mine. But, they didn't seem to recognize me. I guessed they forgot about me, or, just as likely, they saw me come in with Master and thought better than to try anything on me. Their boys were nice too; they seemed to be enjoying the party as much as I was. Of course, I know some of them are not as well off as I am now...I hope they are ok.

Sometime later, I'm not exactly sure how long, a man dressed as a police man bumped into me, causing me to spill my punch onto my gown. In panic, I rushed to the restroom, which happened to be at the opposite end of the hallway. I was in such a rush, that I didn't notice that someone else had followed me in.

I stood at the sink and attempted to scrub out the stain; the next thing I knew, I was restrained by a bigger, stronger male. One of his arms was around my arms and torso while the other was squeezed tight over my muzzle. Out of reflex, I closed my eyes and tried to struggle, but his hold only tightened. He lifted me up and carried my kicking body out the door and into a back room that was around the corner from the bathroom.

I felt myself being dropped down; I landed face first on a bed with railed head and foot boards in a dimly lit room. I immediately turned over and looked around. From what little I saw, I could tell we were in a storage area because there was nothing but stacks of boxes and a pipe going down the center of the room.

"I've been waiting all day to have you alone, my little angel kit." The voice behind me was one I recognized automatically. It belonged to a black rabbit, who was my ex-pimp's best customer; he'd rent me for an entire week every month each year during my forced prostitution. He was the type who likes to play rough, inflicting pain on his boys. Some nights, I've woken up screaming from dreams of all the pain and suffering I felt by his hands; he was also the man who convinced my pimp to put the chastity device on me. It turns out he was the one who bumped into me and caused me to spill my drink.

He took off his hat and sunglasses and looked me over with those red eyes of his. "Mmmmm...The garb of an angle suits you well, kit. The sight of you is almost enough for me to forgive your sudden leave from work." He licked his lips in a lustful manner. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. "If you wanted out, all you had to do was tell me. After all, I have a lot more money than that overgrown lizard ever will. Now, him I can never forgive him for stealing you away from me. I've had to get by with second rate boys for these past days."

Fear ran continuously up and down my spine as I remembered all the times I was bound, gagged, and beaten by him. However, something within me urged me to speak up. I think Master has rubbed off on me. "Master, didn't steal me away; I-I-I chose to stay with him." I stood on the bed and looked down at the mammal. I felt empowered as I continued letting the words flow from my mind directly to my muzzle without any thought. "He may be rough around the edges, but he's treated me better than you and any other man who's had the privilege of having my body."

His only immediate response was a sarcastic slow clap. "Oh, some kit has grown some hair on his balls...No matter. When we get to my beach house, the first thing I'll do is shave them off." He began to unbutton his uniform shirt. "But for now, let's catch up with each other." He let his shirt fall to the floor and began to unbuckle his pants. "Now, if you're a good little kit and let me have your halo, I'll make your punishment later slightly more bearable. You'll get ninety lashes instead of a hundred." He took a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket before he discarded his pants.

"Stay back. If you get dressed and leave now, I promise not to tell Master until we leave here." My fear began to turn into anger. I refused to let him own me again; Master is the one who took me out of that life, and only he can have my body now.

"You won't be seeing him again. I've seen to that." He began to approach the bed just as a gunshot sounded off from a nearby room. The long-eared sadist let out a laugh, proving his delight at the noise. "That was sooner than expected. I told the over-zealous Bear to hold off until we had a little fun, got into my limo, and drove away with you in the trunk.

"Well, no matter. This just means that we can have our fun without being interrupted. I've already paid to have you all to myself for well over a month. Now, be a good little angel and kneel before your god."

Whatever horrible plan the rabbit had for Master was apparently taking place now. And even worse, my old pimp was involved. I had to get out of there and run to Master's side so we could get somewhere safe. But, I couldn't figure out how. Words and bravado had failed me, and I knew I couldn't take him in a physical struggle. Then, I remembered something Master said to me.

We were in his study. He had just gotten off of a long business call and I was thumbing through one of the books off of his book self. I read a section he had highlighted in a bright red color: "Thus although you are capable, display incapability to them." He saw that I was looking at it as I tried to understand it and told me that it meant to get a head up on others who have to employ deception. After I remembered this, I figured out what to do.

"I'm sorry, Sir," I said to the rabbit as I changed my tone and expression to a more subservient one. From then I told him that running away was a waste of my energy and his time; without Master, I had nowhere to go and no hope for another life; I was a naughty kit who deserved to be punished.

He showed his buck teeth when he smiled at my change of actions. "Now that's the bitch kit I know. Now cuff yourself to the bed."

"Sir, I think there's something you'd like better." I pointed to the pipe running from the ceiling to the floor.

"That's a good idea, my little cuntkit," he declared in that lust filled voice that always came out of his muzzle. "Maybe I'll reduce your punishment to eighty-five lashes if you keep this up. Now, cuff yourself to that pipe; it'll be just like the stripper pole you'll be dancing around once again at my beach house."

I bowed, stepped off the bed, and bowed. I gingerly took the cuffs from him and danced around the pole, holding it with one hand as I spun around it. I put out my butt, using my tail to toss up my gown so he could see my golden thong. I noticed the look in his eyes, the one I always saw in my nightmares before a beating. Sickened by the look, I wanted to finish quick so I could get back to Master. I crossed my wrists behind my back and slid down to the floor with both knees bent to my chest.

As he approached me, he pawed at his erect cock. He bent down in front of me, closed his eyes, and inhaled my scent. That disgusting smile crossed his muzzle from ear to ear again. "Just as I remember...the smell of my obedient little fuck toy. I knew you'd see things my way. You've bent to my will so many times over the years that you know bet TAH!"

I kicked him in the balls with my sandaled foot while he was lost in his sick little world. He fell forward; the pole hit him right in the middle of his forehead just as a second gunshot sounded off. I rolled to the side as he fell to the ground. While he was dazed, I cuffed his wrists to each other on the other side of the pipe.

I looked down at him in a mix of loathing and victory. I raised my voice and declared, "I'm not the same kit I was last month. I'll be sure to let Master know of your intentions. I know that he wouldn't want me to deal with such a waste of a man on the ground in front of me. As much as I want to beat the shit out of you, being at his side is much more important. He means a lot more to me than a man like you, whose idea of a satisfying night of sex is verbal abuse, a beating, and in-out-in-out-in-SLAPT-out." I turned to walk out of the room.

"Before you go out there, bitch kit," he said with his usual sadistic tone, there's something you should know." After he finished that sentence, I had to turn around. "I know about you. You were adopted as a toddler, were you not?"

I was caught off guard. "How do you know about that?"

He let out a sadistic laugh as he spoke. "I did some digging on you. I thought it funny how that dragonic hulk just picked you up and decided to keep you. I found out quite a few interesting things, including who your birth parents were. Turns out they were part of a rival gang of your dragon's. That's right, my little cuntkit, your beloved Mandrake is really the man who murdered your parents." His laugh began to echo in the storage room. As I stood there, frozen by his words, he added, "He knows too, boy, and he plans to finish you off. He is a man who hates loose ends, after all."

Thoughts of doubt about master began to cloud my mind. That demon of a rabbit's words made me question everything in the last three weeks. Is Master truly responsible for the death of my birth parents? How could this man who took me under his roof, fed me, clothed me, and make such passionate sex with me want to kill me?

I couldn't just stand there anymore; I'd had enough of the rabbit. It would be just like him to lie and fuck around with another person's emotions just for his own enjoyment. As he continued laughing with his eyes shut. I kicked him in the back of the head, causing him to hit the pipe again and fall unconscious. As I walked out of the room, I shut off the lights and locked the windowless door.

When I rounded the corner, I saw Master on his knees with a gun to his temple. I called out to him, and he froze in place. I wanted to tell him that I was ok. I couldn't. That sadist's words were fresh in my mind. I blurted out, "Is it true? Master did you kill my birth parents?" I was fighting back tears.'

He didn't answer.

"Master, I was adopted when I was three years old. Jack said that my birthparents were part of a rival gang of yours that you wiped out. Master, if you know, please tell me!" My body shook from the stress being put on me at that moment.

He finally responded, "I don't know, kit. One of the rival gangs was a gang of foxes, but I don't know. Max, if it will bring you any kind of peace, I'll pull this trigger now, so that you can move on. A devil like me doesn't deserve an angel like you." I noticed is finger tighten on the trigger.

I let my emotions pour out through my mouth and eyes. "Master, don't do it. I love you. If my birth parents really are dead, then that means you are truly all I have in this fucked up world. Knowing about my parents is something I won't be able to have true peace about until I find out the truth for myself, but you are my everything, Master."

He said nothing; he just broke down and began to cry. I knew that this man could not want to kill me.

I don't remember what was said next. I just remember talking him down as I approached him from behind. I told him every step I took, every movement I made. I was just a few inches behind him when I pulled the gun away from him and put it gently on the floor by my pimp's dead body. I hugged Master from behind and held my arms tightly around his neck. He began to calm down. I had him sit at the opposite end of the hallway. I took his cell phone from his vest pocket and called the police. For some reason I remember the song "Lacrimosa" from an anime I had watched in the recent days was playing from the ballroom.

The rest of the night went by so fast that I can barely recall everything. I told the cops everything: me living with the bear pimp for three years, how I was used by many men in this city, about the man handcuffed to the pipe in the back room, and how Mr. Mandrake took me in and has been acting like a protective father to me for the last three weeks. The police asked me to come in after everything got filed to identify other possible boy prostitutes and ex-clients I knew in the city. I'm expecting their call anytime now.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in bed this morning, still in my costume, with my teddy bear in my arms. Master is still asleep beside me, and he is also in his costume. Some of the servants have come to check on Master and thank me for keeping him together. They left our breakfast at the door for when Master awakes.

I'm going to lay back down with him. I want him to see me as soon as he opens his eyes. Write later.

Max

***

I would not have pulled the trigger. I am certain of that. It was a moment of despair brought on by my guilt over having placed the kit in danger with my stupid attempt to test his loyalty with this party. The despair would have passed, and I would have done everything in my power to find him again. When he explained to me what the rabbit had told him about his past and my possible role in killing his parents, I did want to pull the trigger. Whether it was true or not, how could he possibly love the monster that he now knew I really was? I fully expected him to shout his hatred and disgust at me as I pulled the trigger, dying with those last horrible words ringing in my ears,

Instead, like the true angel that he is, he forgave me and professed his love for me. Never before had I felt less deserving or more grateful for the love of another. The rest of the night was a blur for me. The kit was more capable than I could have imagined. He called the police. He got us home. He concocted a convincing story for our relationship, and it was well that he did. I was ready to bare my soul and confess to everything I had done, but my angel's forgiveness was complete and total. He absolved me of all of my sins.

I do remember that after we were home and safe again, he reverted to his normal childlike innocence and let me be the master again. I suppose that I was still not thinking clearly, for I dismissed the servants and put him to bed with me, both of us still in our costumes. I think it was some subconscious desire to continue to live the role of savior and fallen angel a bit longer. I found his bear and put in his arms after he was already asleep.

Dear Journal,

It's early in the afternoon.

Master woke up not too long after I lay back down. He embraced me and held me close to his chest. He apologized to me over and over again.

When he let me go, we sat up in the bed as he explained everything. He told me about his parents murder, his revenge, and the loss of a past mate long ago; things that lead him to seeing everyone and everything around him as a possession. How for over the past two decades, he used alcohol and expensive things to numb his pain, and how he'd pay for a boy every now and then to keep him company for short periods of time. He confessed that the party was a set up, but that my pimp and ex-client were not part of the plan. He said he was proud that I was able to be strong and take control when he had broken down.

I told him about me running away from home at the age of twelve and being picked up by the pimp. I recount some of the unmentionable things I've done over the past three years. About being fed salad and water by my pimp and how I was basically paying the bear's way through college. I told him how I was that rabbit's personal sexual plaything for one week every month of those three years and all the things he did to violate me sexually, physically, and mentally.

He asked why I didn't turn him in and be freed from everything.

I told him that he was different than any other man I've been with; I felt that from the first night. Despite his disposition and tendency for anger, he was the only man who treated me with some measure of true respect and affection in that time that I had spent with him. And, most importantly, that I love him. That I didn't want to see him hurt; and as far as I was concerned, everything we did was consensual on my side of it. I was already freed from all of it by him. Then, I asked him why he wanted me in the first place.

He told me that I brought out something in him that he had long forgotten even existed within him. The violence, drink, money and sex ruled his life, and that I freed him from it. I became more than a possession to him; I became a friend, a son, a mate. He said that doubt and fear had caused him to seek the numbing comfort of alcohol again and that's why he set the party up in the first place. But, now he sees me as everything to him. He wants me to stay, but it has to be of my own choosing.

Then, he looked me in the eye and gave me a choice. I could become his legal son, I could become his permanent mate, or I could leave him and start my own life. He even offered to pay for everything and give me money if I chose the third choice.

Everything was buzzing around in my head. After what seem like minutes of silence, I asked him if I could be both his son and his mate. But, I wanted to be promised some things: I want to be equals with him; I want to explore my interest and find out who I am; I want time to myself. Most importantly, no more alcohol and suicide attempts. A smile crossed his face; he was beautiful. It was the first time he showed me a smile, and it was beautiful. We embraced again without another word. We ate breakfast in bed and just talked about...well...us.

Master is coming out of his study now. We're going to the police station for me to give testimony and identifications. Write later.

Max

***

We have to answer more questions today with the police. I am confident the boy will continue to protect me, but I accept whatever fate awaits me. I will destroy this video log, though. I can't risk an investigation finding this record. I know the kit is keeping a journal. I will ask him to allow me to have it locked up in a secret place until he is an adult.

Max surprised me again today. I told him to assume that I had killed his parents. It would take time for me to find out the truth of it, but I wanted him to be prepared for the worst before he decided on the choices I was offering him: to be my mate, to be my legally adopted son, or to leave me forever. For this last choice, I offered to provide him plenty of money to see himself through school and set himself up in a real life free from living on the streets and selling his body.

Once again, he gave me a mighty gift of which I still feel unworthy. Today I gained a mate and a son. The masters are banished forever. My master no longer makes me suffer for the pain and sins of the past, and I shall no longer be Max's master. I have a surprise for him later to prove that.

Dear Journal,

The sun is setting now.

Master had one of his staff drive us to the police station. It was exhausting. He gave his account of what happened with my pimp. The boy in the bathroom and the boy that the pimp brought supported his story, so any possible charges on him went away. Then they asked me about what happened with the rabbit. I told them my side of the story. He tried to say I seduced him and was trying to rob him, but there was a video camera in the storage room that recorded everything. Then, I told them my story just like the night before. I described my ex-clients and identified some pictures of suspected buyers.

Then, we were both asked about our relationship. I said that Mr. Mandrake has been watching over me and making sure that I have what I need to be safe and healthy. He pulled me out of that life to give me a better one. We have been talking about schooling and other plans for my future. I also mentioned that Mr. Mandrake was interested in legally adopting me.

After a couple of hours, Master and I were free to leave. On the long ride home, Master called an adoption lawyer to start looking into the details of my case and any legal red tape we have to deal with. He also called a private detective to do some digging on my birth parents.

When we got home, dinner was waiting. Master had fillet mignon, and I had two BLTs; we both had orange juice. We ate on the beds pushed together in the master suite with the bay window so that we could look at the sunset. After we finished, Master asked me if I wanted him to pleasure me. I told him that I already felt pleasure when I pleasure him. He put a finger up to my lips and told me to just enjoy what he was about to do.

He lifted my t-shirt off of me, gently laid me onto my back, and kissed me passionately while cradling my head in the palm of one of his hands. He broke the kiss, leaving me in a daze. His long, thin, reptilian tongue glided down my bare chest. He took extra care to stop at my nipples and teasingly swipe them a few times with his warm taste organ. My breath became faster as he slowly explored every inch of my torso, right down to my belt line.

He lifted his head up and flashed me the same beautiful smile from earlier this morning. In a more caring tone of voice than he used before, he asked, "Are you enjoying yourself, my blushing little kit?" I could only nod in response. He let out a claw and used it to trace those calming patters in my stomach. He undid my jeans with one hand. He slid them down and discarded them, leaving me in nothing but the same black underwear I wore on that first night with him. My kithood was staining against the tight fabric.

My body felt a heat at that moment that I have never felt before during sex. I wasn't even naked yet, but I wanted to be, and I wanted him to be naked with me. Feelings began to whirl around inside me. My body began to tremble. I felt his free hand on my cheek as he continued to let his finger play around on my tummy. I could tell that he was afraid that he had done too much. My heart melted when he said, "Are you ok, Max? I can stop if it's too much." My hot quaking body would only allow me to squeak out, "Master...Keep going."

"One thing before that, boy. I want you to call me by my name. Not the one everyone knows me as, but my real name...Sam."

"Sam, keep going!" I shouted out, unable to take the tension any longer. "I felt his hands brush against my legs as he pulled my underwear off of me, freeing my teenage cock.

He got on his knees and lightly licked the length of my shaft from bottom to top and took it whole in his mouth. My body froze from the unexpected pleasure. This was the first man to ever give me oral without expecting me to do something for him first. When the feeling of his warm maw over took my cock, something came over me. I instinctively grabbed his horns and began bucking into him while I moaned from the sensation. My sexual hunger was added to by the feel of his moans vibrating my tool. "Sam, I'm about to cum!" I exclaimed, causing him to pull off of me just before I hit climax. I whimpered at the sudden loss of oral pleasure.

He reached out a claw and stroked my chin until my whimpers softened. He unbuttoned his shirt as he spoke. "Calm down, Max. I don't want you to cum yet...not before this." He let his shirt fall to the floor before he undid his pants. My attention was focused squarely on him as he slid his pants and underwear down, exposing his rapidly hardening dragonhood.

I raised my legs and presented my tailhole to him. He lowered my legs back down, leaned to me and whispered in my ear, "It's your turn to be inside me, Max." Without letting me reply, he lifted me off the bed. He cradled me as he turned his back to the bed and lay down. I sat up on his chest and asked if he was sure. With that beautiful smile he nodded.

I got off him, holding his thick, veiny, fully hardened cock to steady myself, and sat on his tail. He lifted his legs up and held them in place; his unexplored tailhole was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I positioned myself over it and pushed. My cock was so wet from his mouth that I slid right in. We both moaned at this shared first experience. His tight ass held my dick in a death grip and refused to let go. I massaged his cock with both paws, relaxing his body.

I embraced his cock with both arms and began my thrusting. I also licked the head of his massive man meat, making sure my tonguing of it matched my pounding of his hole. Heat took me over again as I began to thrust harder and harder into him. I couldn't do anything else in that moment but let my mouth and cock take control. I could feel my knot inflate every time I went back into him. I removed my mouth from his pulsating cock as I orgasmed. " SAM, I'M CUMMING!" My pelvis locked into him as my entire body clenched and tightened. I felt every single rope of jizz fire into his hot, tight ass. I could tell he was on the brink as well from my knot's sudden occupation of his hole and prostate.

After my orgasm subsided, I gave his engorged cock the attention it craved. After a few seconds of sucking, Sam fired shot after shot over my shoulder and onto the floor behind me while he called my name and told me he loved me. His ass' tightening hold on my knot, along with the emotional high of the moment, caused me to cum again. This time I let out a high pitched squealing howl, from a mix of pain and ecstasy.

I held tight again to his cock as it softened back into his slit. I trembled and breathed heavily as I lay on his chest and hugged him. My head was at his chest. I nestled into his built body.

I felt his own arms slowly envelope me to return the embrace. He rubbed my back and said, "I love you, Max."

Through all my shaking and breathing, I managed to respond, "I...I lo...I love you too, Sam."

Then, we just talked and watched the sun set in that position. After a while he used his tail to pick up my pack from beside the bed and lay it beside us so that I could write in my journal. The sun has almost disappeared as I'm writing this now, still locked into his tailhole with him rubbing my back; but I'm starting to feel myself loosen.

We've already talked about how things will work between us. We both know that this will take some work from both of us, and we're willing to put in the effort. We've also decided that we'll wait until we find out about my birth parents. That way we can hyphenate our names together when he adopts me. The rival families, if we are, will be united for a new future with us.

Sam asked me to lock up my journal until I'm eighteen just in case the police decide to investigate us. That means this is the last entry for a while. I feel content to close this book and begin my new life with him.

We're both starting to feel after orgasm sleepiness coming on. Write again much later.

Max