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Click.

Piper was in the studio now, waiting for the new photo shoot to begin, staring disinterestedly at the crowd of milling beasts in front of him as they scurried about their own business, tightening this and fixing that, their eyes constantly darting between their own work and Piper's barely-clad body. Here he was, dirty and filthy, the whore of Babylon on his pedestal, promising beauty and joy for just a few more dollars. Salvation paid for in instalments.

He could see Rainier amongst the crowd, ordering beasts this way and that, organizing thirty of them to take a few photos of one fox. The otter was ignoring him again, he could tell...Piper still had no recollection of how he had got to his hotel the night before, and he had a feeling Rainier must have had something to do with it. He had probably found him at that party in whatever state he'd been in and had him taken back to the hotel room, and that had put him in a foul mood for today.

Piper clicked his tongue distractedly, trying hard to not look behind him again, trying to ignore the scene behind him that made him shudder every time he so much as looked at it. It was warm inside the studio, even though Piper was wearing nothing but a pair of barely-there black spandex shorts, but he could not help but shiver as he felt the eyes boring into his spine from behind.

"All right, Piper, we'll be a few minutes more." Rainier called to him, but Piper just blinked owlishly in response, his thoughts still vague and distracted. He saw Rainier lean over and whisper something into the ear of one of his various assistants, the otter's eyes flickering to where Piper sat, and he knew what he would be saying.

'Watch him, make sure he doesn't go anywhere.' Those would be his words. Make sure he doesn't misbehave, watch Piper the pet, the child, the slave. The fox sighed heavily and rubbed a paw over his eyes, feeling weary and drained from the night before. Already his joints were stiff and sore and his head was beginning to throb, a sure sign that it was time for some more of Rainier's little pills...but he hadn't come to see Piper yet.

Perhaps he thought Piper would just take the rest of the bottle he had left in his pocket; usually that would be the case, but for some reason his paw hadn't strayed to the bottle yet, even though he felt like he needed more. It was strange, he felt almost reluctant to take the pills without Rainier there to tell him to...he'd never had this problem before, why had it happened now? What had changed that made him pause, that made him control himself, even for just a moment?

Nothing out of the ordinary, that was for certain...there had been the wild, decadent party, the familiar rushing and intense vibrations of the drugs...nothing different there. There had been the rough, powerful sex when that jackass had used him like one of the products he advertised...nothing different there. The only other thing he could think of was the drive with his new chauffeur... he had said Piper's eyes were perfect.

Once again Piper found a strange tickling around his muzzle, and he found himself smiling again, for no reason other than the thought of what the driver had said. The driver...he kept thinking of him like that, but surely he must have a name, Piper wondered, running a velveteen tongue over the perfect ivory bones of his jaw contemplatively as he thought.

Why do you care though? Another part of his brain whispered, in a hot, dark little voice that niggled at the corners of his thoughts. He's just another one of those consumers, the ones that watch you expose yourself on the billboards and get off to it, their own expenditure their new pornography... he only sees the naked you, the billboard you, the image that sells cars and champagne and diamonds, he doesn't see the real you. As if there's any of that to see anyway. That's all you are, remember?

I just want to know his name, so I stop calling him driver in my thoughts, Piper told himself, blinking as they started testing the flashbulbs, their lights snapping in his eyes, the clicking of the test shots a quiet clatter under the low rumble of the milling crowd.

Click.

Sure, that's why you want to know his name, the hot, angry little voice replied, an edge of smugness to its tone.

Click.

You're being crazy, Piper told himself, beginning to lose his temper at himself.

Click.

I'm crazy? The voice of his own dark thoughts replied incredulously. I'm not the one arguing with myself in my own head.

Click.

Give me release from my own damn thoughts, Piper thought grudgingly, his paw brushing to his pocket for a few of those perfect-blue life savers. He almost swore aloud when he realized he didn't have them any more; of course not, they were still in his normal pants. There was no room in these figure-hugging shorts for a bottle of pills...hell, there was barely enough room for Piper, but he supposed that was the point.

The tight black material started at the very cusp of his hips, and only travelled down far enough to almost-but-not-quite cover the slender curves of his rump. They were so tight they even hugged the very shape of his sheath, its shape outlined in black against his pure, snowy-white fur. The rest of his fur was completely bare, his lithe form and thin chest naked for the hungry lenses that waited for him, their shutters poised and ready to snap away, ready to immortalize him yet again, as if there weren't enough photos of him already.

"All right Piper, we're going to pull up the backdrop lights now." Rainier called out, and Piper felt a heat on his back as the studio back lights were pulled up, and he glanced back with an involuntary shudder. The backdrop to the studio was a flat canvas, painted with the image of an old barn house against a blue sky. That was not what made him shudder though when he looked, no, it was what lay directly behind him that disturbed him so.

There were two mannequins, fairly real-looking foxes in farmer's clothes, a husband and wife standing side by side in front of the barn, both passive-faced and dead-eyed. The husband clutched a pitchfork at his side, and the wife chose to simply look on without expression, both of them staring dead-on into the camera's lens. It was reminiscent to an old painting, although what exactly it was called Piper couldn't remember...and of course, in the original painting there wasn't a barely-clad fox posing in front of the couple.

Piper wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be selling in this shoot, he never found out until later in most cases. This was just another shoot for him, showing off his body for the cameras, selling himself to sell something else...but this time it was different. Piper couldn't help but notice something strangely, disturbingly familiar about the foxes.

It was only his mind, of course, but the expression on the husband's face, the haughty, passive expression that almost suggested disgust...it reminded him of the look on his father's own muzzle, that night that seemed so long ago now. The mannequins weren't arctic foxes like Piper and his family, their faux fur the more common reddish-russet colour, but the expression the husband wore was uncannily similar. All it did was remind Piper of that night he'd tried so hard to forget, every single time he glanced back at the two dead-eyed mannequins.

Piper sighed and turned his eyes away, seeking something else to hold his attention. He saw Rainier in the crowd now, staring at something unseen on a sheet of proofs, a twisted little smile of satisfaction on his muzzle. Seeing that smile on his face, that look of odd hunger in his beady eyes...it only reminded Piper of one thing, something else that had happened two years ago, only a few weeks after his father had thrown him out of home.

Click.

It was chilly, bitterly cold for autumn, and promised a hard winter ahead. That was what Piper remembered thinking as he walked down the crowded sidewalk, his paws stuffed deep into his pockets as he shivered. He was tired, and hungry, but he knew he had to keep moving, keep trying to find himself a job.

That fateful night, full of such anger and spite as it was, was still livid in Piper's mind, his fathers face still twisted in a sneer of disgust in his mind's eye. He was determined to prove he could make it on his on, not just to spite his parents but to prove it to himself, but the going was hard. He had little money, barely enough to pay rent. Food seemed like a distant memory, Piper surviving so far on cheap instant noodles, but now he didn't even have money for that. No-where seemed to be offering work, and now the fox was broke.

He couldn't afford to pay the next week's rent on his tiny, pathetically empty apartment, and he couldn't afford any warmer clothes for the coming winter even if he could. He wasn't sure how he was going to survive in the city for much longer, even his thick fur, suited for cold not doing him much good against the bitterly cold wind.

He had moved into the city to get away from his family, and the suburbs that reminded him of the life that had shunned him, hated him for what he was, but he was starting to miss it. He missed having money, food and warmth, and knowing he would still have a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head. Everything else he could do without.

He knew he could never return home now; even if his parents would let him back, his pride would not allow him to return, to suffer the indignation of their scorn. He would never be able to live that down. But he was afraid, a quiet gnawing in his mind and at his fluttering heart. What would he do if he couldn't find work? Without money he would be out of a house, where he would surely freeze if he didn't starve first...he was scared, scared of an uncertain future. It seemed he was fortune's fool, cast from a home where he had life, but no freedom, to the city where he had his freedom, but it seemed not without the cost of his life.

A lot of young, gay boys kicked out of their home, finding themselves in the big city without jobs or money eventually fall back on the one thing that would always get them some money; their tail. It was dangerous and seedy, but sometimes it was the only way to survive. A boy of uncommon beauty, like Piper was, would have made himself a tidy profit, and it would be a lie if Piper was to say he hadn't thought of it, only compounding the fear and worry in his heart, but it seemed that day that fate had something different in store.

"Excuse me..." Someone had said, grabbing Piper by the elbow as he was walking, dragging him from the murky tincture of his own thoughts and back to cold hard reality. He had turned to look into the dark specks that were Rainier's beady eyes, a humourless echo of a smile etching his muzzle. "Don't I know you?"

"What?" Piper asked, mind blank as Rainier's eyes bored into him, sharp as gimlets, like they were looking right through him, through to something, or someone behind him. "N-no, I don't think so."

"Oh...that's funny. You have the kind of face that should be on magazines." The otter murmured, making Piper blush.

"Thank you...I think you have the wrong fox though." Piper replied, trying to pull away, but the otter's grip was like a steel band on his arm.

"Do you want to be?" The otter asked suddenly, muttering the words surreptitiously, as though it was a secret. He was right up in Piper's face now, those greedy little specks that were his eyes searching Piper's baby blues hungrily as he waited for the fox to answer.

"What? I don't get it..." Piper replied, starting to become afraid of this strange little otter, his intense manner, and the way he gripped tight to Piper and wouldn't let go.

"You could be on the covers of them all kid, all you need is someone to get you out there." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper now, his muzzle right in Piper's own. Then, with as little warning as he had started, he released his grip and pulled away from the startled fox, his lips curling in what was more a hungry leer than a smile. "And that person is me. What do you say?"

"I don't...I don't understand..." Piper stuttered, rubbing at his elbow, which was still sore from the strange otter gripping it so tight.

"I'm Rainier. And I'm going to make you famous." The otter said, his words more a statement of fact than anything else, like he had everything planned and had just been waiting for a beautiful fool like Piper to come along and fall into it. Piper found out later that was pretty much the case. Rainier had been out scouting the streets for raw talent, someone new to thrust into the spotlight, when he had found Piper wandering the street, looking lost, hungry and scared.

Vulnerable, that's what he said, Piper remembered it vividly.

"Vulnerable, kid, that's what you are." Rainier said, his beady eyes shining as he stared at Piper, who was shifting uncomfortably in the vinyl booth. Rainier had convinced him to follow him to a local diner, offering to buy the fox lunch if only he'd hear the otter out.

It was like the otter had seen right through him as soon as he'd seen him. He promised him everything he didn't have, everything that was needed to grab his attention. Food, money, somewhere to live...everything he needed, but more importantly, he told him he'd look after him.

"I'll look out for you kid, because you need someone to." The otter had said, still smiling hungrily. "They'll love just how...vulnerable, how innocent you are, you'll sell like nothing else. We'll play that up, but if you don't have someone to look after you in this city kid, they'll eat you alive. I promise you that." Rainier was saying, but Piper wasn't listening, his attention focused on the coffee they put in front of him.

It sounded stupid now, but he was so hungry, so weary, and so cold, the warmth and comfort that drink offered him was more important than anything the otter was saying. He sipped gingerly at it even though it was still too hot, wincing as it stung his throat, but relishing the feeling of warmth it spread through his gut.

"But why me?" He asked when he finally put the cup down, Rainier looking slightly perturbed that he had been interrupted half-way through his spiel on how Piper would be a star. "What makes me special?"

"Why?" Rainier asked incredulously, like he couldn't believe Piper's naivety. "Because kid, you're fucking beautiful." He said, making the fox shift uncomfortably, making his cheeks burn. "Hey, don't get me wrong, this isn't all some pick-up attempt. I'm no faggot, don't worry about that." The otter said, but Piper just felt his cheeks grow hotter at the sound of that word.

"Yeah..." He mumbled, linking his long, feminine fingers around his mug and burying his face in the warm depths of his coffee, hoping his thick winter coat hid the pink blush to his cheeks.

"All I'm saying is that with a body like yours, you could be famous. No, you should be famous." Rainier said expansively, drawing eyes from across the diner, but he didn't seem to care. "It's a fucking crime you ain't already, but stick with me kid, and we'll bring them all what they've been waiting for. We'll bring them..." He said, pausing and pointing a rather stubby claw at the fox.

"Piper." He said, and Rainier grinned again.

"Right, Piper. I like that." He said, smiling and extending a paw to the fox. "I like it, sounds exotic. We'll bring them Piper, and we'll make sure they never forget you. I'll look out for you kid, and I promise you'll never go wanting again. What do you say?"

Piper was still unsure, gazing at the paw before him warily, still cautious of trusting the otter, his mind full of all the stories of the big bad city, gnawing his lip nervously. But what did he have to lose?

Click.

"Piper?"

Click.

Why shouldn't he do it? He had already been so nice to Piper, and what would the otter have to gain from doing him harm?

Click.

"Piper?"

Click.

"Piper, are we all ready?"

The fox shook his head, realizing the otter was calling out to him now, except they were in a studio, not in that small diner three years ago. The daydream still lingered in his head a moment as he nodded, assuming the position to start the shoot, hearing the low-pitched whining as the flashbulbs charged.

Click.

If only he hadn't taken the otter's paw, he thought, tossing back his head and arching his back, looking back over his shoulder at the cameras as he did so.

Click.

He would have been free, free from this.

Click.

Yeah right, free to die out on the street, his mind replied, his paw curling around his rump now, a white patch on the jet black of his shorts. Rainier saved you, made you something. You were nothing before him, Piper thought, although he could barely make even himself believe it.

Click.

And what am I now? Just a shell, an image, a husk. I'm nothing, he argued loudly, his voice echoing in the confines of his own skull.

He held a paw to his lips as he glanced back at the cameras, touching them as lightly as possible, his look one of pure innocence. Innocence that begged to be dirtied, violated, destroyed.

Click.

So what? So are millions of beasts, living fake lives, pretending they're happy...at least you are famous, the voice in his skull retorted.

Click.

Oh, so no-one in the world is happy? We're all destined for misery?

Click.

How should I know? I'm only a voice in your head.

Click.

I'm losing it...Piper thought as he continued to writhe for the cameras.

Click.

At least you're doing it in style, the voice in his head whispered, but he ignored it, instead smiling a stunning, perfect and above all fake smile for the cameras.

And all the while, he avoided the eyes of the two statues behind him, because every time he glanced at them he saw the disapproving, disgusted stares of his parents.

Click.

"Good evening sir, how was your day?"

Piper was lost in his own world as he walked away from the studios, feeling dirtier now than he had done the night before...at least then he had whored himself out for free. He didn't even realize he was being talked to until he saw that chauffeur standing nearby, a crisp, professional smile on his muzzle, looking expectantly at him.

"Oh...hello." Piper said, unsure and feeling slightly ruffled for some reason. "It was...long." He said, climbing into the waiting black limousine. It had been...hours of setting up lights, fixing cameras, getting colour and exposure just perfect, teams of stylists on hand every second in case a single fur fell out of place...just like always. It was exhausting, especially with Piper's teetering on the cusp of a bad hangover for half the day; all in all, he was glad to climb back into the dark, cool interior of the limousine, glad to be heading back to the hotel, where he could rest.

"Would you like to eat sir?" The husky asked as he climbed into the cab of the limousine, bringing the engine into purring life.

"What?" Piper asked, confused, his mind dull and unresponsive.

"I've been instructed to make sure you have everything you need sir, I'm not just a driver."

"You're not?"

"No. For the duration of your work on this project sir, if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I'm on speed-dial at your hotel." The husky said, over his shoulder as he guided the limousine through busy rush-hour traffic.

"Really?" Piper asked, unsure whether or not he liked the idea of a manservant.

"Yes sir, anything."

"Well to start with, you can stop calling me sir." Piper said firmly. "I must be years younger than you, anyway. I should be calling you sir."

"Yes sir. I mean...sorry." The driver replied, smiling wryly as he glanced back over his shoulder at Piper. "Force of habit."

"Well stop it. And do I get to know your name?"

"My name si...my name?" The husky replied, stopping himself just in time.

"Yes, if you're going to be following me around for the next few weeks, I have to know what to call you."

"My name is Dian." The husky replied, his verdant green eyes flashing in the rear-view mirror as he glanced back at Piper. "And yours is? If you don't mind me asking..."

"Of course not. My name is Piper." The fox replied.

"Piper...I like that." Dian replied, and Piper had to look away, just to try and hide his smile.

"We're almost at the hotel now, Mr. Piper-" Dian begun, but the fox cut him off.

"Just Piper...please." Piper replied, a little sharper than he had intended. "Piper is fine."

"Well Piper, we are at the hotel now. Are you sure there is nothing else I can get you?" The husky asked, turning a kind muzzle to half-look at Piper as he drove the limousine into the hotel parking bay. Piper declined though, lingering for a second as he watched Dian before he climbed out of the black limousine. "Well, if you need anything else, you know how to reach me." The husky said before Piper went, still smiling warmly.

Up in his hotel room, Piper closed the door tight behind him, turning off his cell phone and flicking the hotel phone off of the hook. He turned all of the lights down to low and started stripping off his clothes, his brilliantly white fur glowing faintly in the dim light. He planned to stumble into the shower, wash away some of the filth he imagined clinging to every single one of the hairs in his pelt, try and cleanse himself. After that, he would just stumble into the luxurious bed, where he would be able to close off his mind from everything and just sleep...

Well, that was the plan anyway. All his joints ached and he felt sick, his head beginning to throb painfully...why was he feeling so low? He tossed his jeans over the back of the couch, his ears pricking up at the rattling clatter that reached his ears. He turned to see the pill bottle Rainier had left him rolling across the floor, Piper's discarding of his jeans finally dislodging them.

The fox crossed over to the bottle, crouching down and picking them up in his paw, opening them and looking inside. There were enough in there for a few days...Piper sighed, finding himself hesitating again. Why was he waiting? He knew these pills, these perfect little dots, blue as a cloudless sky, would make him feel better, pull him out of his funk, so what stayed his paw?

All he had to do was pop a few of these, and then it was dream-city all the way.

Then again, he was pretty hungry...

Click.

"Good evening sir. Change your mind on wanting some food?" Dian asked, smiling warmly as Piper slid into the limo, fully clothed again.

"What did I tell you about calling me sir?" Piper asked, his teeth on edge. "And yeah, I did."

"Sorry Piper. Where do you feel like?" Dian asked, his eyes creasing in a smile as he looked back over his shoulder to the fox.

"You know, I'm in the mood for Japanese. Nowhere fancy please Dian, just somewhere that does a nice meal."

"Excellent Piper. I know a good yakitori that's not too far from here." Dian said, pulling his car out onto the busy road outside the hotel. Why was he doing this, Piper wondered? All he had wanted to do half an hour ago was just sleep, and now he was out again...

You just want to see the driver again, don't you? His inner voice hissed darkly, sounded gleefully triumphant.

Shut up. I just needed some food. Piper thought, trying to ignore the voice. I shouldn't be doing pills on an empty stomach. And his name is Dian.

Yeah right, an empty stomach has never stopped you before, the voice sneered, but it stayed quiet for the rest of the drive, the limousine eventually pulling to a halt outside the brightly lit restaurant, Piper's stomach growling in anticipation.

"Well sir, I'll just park out here while you dine, shall I?" Dian said, exiting the car to open Piper's door for him. Piper climbed out into the crisp night air, his breath hanging in front of his face. "You have a reservation inside sir, under your name. Enjoy your meal."

"I do hope its a reservation for two, Dian?" Piper asked, pulling his scarf tighter around his slender neck.

"Two, sir?" The driver replied, looking nonplussed.

"Well yes, Dian, you don't expect me to eat by myself do you? It simply wouldn't do for someone of my notoriety to be dining alone, I would be mobbed by the public!" Piper said, smiling softly.

"I had made reservations for a private booth..."

"Dian, please." Piper insisted, cutting him off. "If you are going to be my attaché for this job I will expect a bit more of you than just driving me about. I could use some company." Piper said, the same thin smile still on his lips, unused to being found in such unfamiliar territory.

"It would be my pleasure sir." Dian said, a grin likewise creeping about his features.

"And what did I tell you about calling me sir?" Piper said over his shoulder as he sauntered inside.

"Sorry...It would be my pleasure...Piper." Dian said, following the fox into the restaurant.

It was only a few minutes later, when they were seated and Dian was ordering them a few drinks that the voice in Piper's head returned, its voice thick with honeyed delight.

Oh yes, you are really hungry, aren't you? I saw you walk inside, I've seen that walk a million times before, the voice hissed gleefully.

Dian was saying something now, his easy smile flashing white teeth and a soft, pink tongue...Piper tried to hear him, but he couldn't quiet the voice in his head. What walk, he wondered, forcing a smile and nodding to the husky.

Oh, come on, the swing of those hips, waving that tail in his face? You're horny aren't you? You just want him to fuck you, don't you? You want to be penetrated by that hot meat, you want to feel him pound you, you want to have that knot forced into your hole...you want his seed dripping out of you you little whore, the voice was saying, it's tone a satisfied growl. Piper could feel himself begin to stiffen at the suggestion, but he tried to ignore it. The voice didn't really exist...it was all in his head...but try as he might, he just couldn't forget those images brought forth by that accusing whisper.

The food he ate that night may as well have not existed, for as much attention he paid it. The whole night he couldn't take his eyes off the husky, the way his muscles shifted under his driver's jacket, the strong line of his jaw, that soft pink tongue. He imagined that tongue running all over his body, imagined letting himself being overpowered by those muscles, held down under that bulk, penetrated by the husky's thick meat. Dian's fur was beginning to thicken for the winter, his dense pelt just beginning to outgrow his uniform; his fur seemed to bulge where it poked through to the open air...Piper couldn't help but imagine running his slender paws through that thick, luxurious carpet, losing himself in it as the driver sank himself deeper and deeper into Piper.

Thoughts like this filled Piper's head the whole night, his cock half-erect in his trousers the whole evening, his throat dry as he fought to get his mind off the chauffeur. He could feel the occasional drip of precum in his shorts, making his crotch slippery and warm, the smell of his musk almost palpable...he wondered if the husky could smell it, privately hoping he could. Maybe he would catch wind of it and know just what the fox wanted so badly, pulling him up and slamming him onto the table, ripping his clothes off with his powerful jaws...thoughts like that made Piper shudder with longing.

Truth be told, there was no chance that Dian could have smelt Piper's musk, abundant though it was, above the heady and rich smell of the cooking. They were seated at a private section of the bar, with a hot grill in front of them and a private chef, his blades a constant blur as he served food faster than the eye could comprehend, the clatter of the busy restaurant and the cooking making it almost impossible to hear anything, even if Piper had been able to focus on what Dian was saying. He would hear snatches of words and phrases, and respond lamely, weakly, but he didn't care. Al he could think about was what was right in front of his eyes.

And despite what he wanted so desperately, the night passed without much event. Food was made, appetites were sated, and someone picked up the check. Every fibre of his being was screaming out his lust for the husky, but something held him back. Usually when he wanted something, Piper had it, no question. But this, this common, normal beast that he could have at a moments request...something stopped him from asking, from speaking those words. He couldn't speak those words, and yet his head was still full of those images, those daydreams of a powerful mating with Dian that would not subside. They still were dancing in his mind's eye as Dian was driving him back to his hotel, Piper's lust such a strong scent in the enclosed space of the limo he had to wind down his windows despite the chilly night air. Piper was grimacing and thinking hard about baseball and cold days when he saw out of the corner of his eye that Dian's lips were moving, and he tried to snap himself back to the present.

"I'm sorry Dian?" Piper asked, more than a touch flustered.

"I said are you okay Piper? You seemed a little preoccupied at dinner, is all" The driver asked.

"My mind...my mind is on other things, I'm afraid." Piper said, trying to stop wondering what it would feel like to fondle the husky's balls in his paws.

"All right, as long as you are okay. Your hotel is up on the right, Piper." Dian replied. A few moments later they were outside the lobby, the husky opening Piper's door for him. The fox climbed out on slightly unsteady feet, realizing just how tall the husky was as he only came up to his chest...his strong chest and broad shoulders...

"Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?" Dian asked, and Piper was forced to focus on the husky.

Just invite him inside...the voice hissed, sounding loud in his head after its conspicuous absence for the evening. You know you want to...let him in, let him violate you, let him fuck you and leave you sore...leave your fur full of his seed. You know you want to...whore.

Piper opened his mouth to say something, thought the better of it, lifted a paw, but that just ended as a fist that punched at the air weakly, his jaw tightening.

"No...no thank you Dian, that will be all. I will see you tomorrow." Piper forced through gritted teeth.

"Have a great night sir!" Dian replied brightly, flashing him a winning smile. "Sorry...Piper."

The fox turned his back and wandered into the lobby, feeling a little light headed. Maybe I'm not such a slut after all, he thought, but there was no reply from the voice of temptation in his head. He somehow got the impression it was sulking. As he climbed into the elevator and let it lift him to the heavens, he smiled, despite feeling so spent. Now the only thing he had to worry about was the still-steady arousal that gnawed at his stomach.

But, wasn't pleasuring himself just as bad in a way as giving in to those thoughts? Perhaps he should just give in, he thought. He did want it so bad...and he always had been somewhat of a whore...

That angry little voice in his head and his arousal both soon faded under the blast of an ice cold shower, both just a whisper at the edge of his mind. Maybe he wasn't so much of a whore after all?

Click.

Piper awoke earlier than usual the next morning, the sun still on its upwards climb over the city as he opened his eyes. He lay in wait for the usual few seconds of blissful sleep-addled ignorance before the blinding headache that greeted him each morning, but it never came. He waited a few cautious minutes, expecting the headache was maybe lying in wait for him, biding its time while he got his hopes up, before it would rise up with a vengeance like an unexpected rake in long grass, but all his fears were for nothing. He sat up, stretching out his neck absently. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't woken with his body not tainted with ill humours from whatever he had subjected himself to the night before, and he was honestly at a loss for what to do.

His usual schedule was to down a few painkillers and one or two of Rainier's little blue pills, take a few gulps of ice cold mineral water from the fridge to send them down, fight the urge to have them come back up straight away, and stand for a few moments as the rarefied air of the fridge washed over him, blinking blearily as the light shone on his face. The it was off to the shower to try and wash the filth of the night before from his fur, all the while trying to keep his mind carefully blank, so he didn't have to remember what he had done the night before, what had been done to him...and he would try to not think about what the day ahead would hold for him, the wall of lenses that would capture his degradation, the twist of his body and the curve of his rear that would make people cream their shorts all over the world.

Today though, the familiar sensation of pain, narcotics and shame swilling about inside his skull was absent, and the daily ritual that had become second nature to the fox was unnecessary. Instead his rose from the luxuriously soft bed where he had lain, with very nearly a spring in his step he was embarrassed to notice, and padded out into the main room of his hotel suite. He threw open the French doors to the balcony and breathed deep of the morning air, his shining eyes drinking in the glorious morning. As a defence mechanism his brain usually didn't even start operating until around lunch time, so Piper was uncertain as to why he was in such a good mood, but then it hit him, the recollection flooding back with a thunderous rush, like a parted ocean suddenly released by a vengeful deity.

The dinner with Dian, watching him eat, suffering both a savage arousal and a rather troubling inner debate...these concepts flickered through Piper's peripheral thoughts like so many distracting gnats, but his mind's eye was focused solely on the image of the limousine driver, his strong, easy smile and broad shoulders, the muscles that bunched subtly beneath the too-thin fabric of a cheap white linen shirt, the strong set of his jaw and those vivid green eyes; the fox's head swam drunkenly with lust and he felt himself stiffen. There had been something about him the previous night that had caught Piper off guard, his lust strong and his nostrils full of intoxicating musk...with a painful ache from his balls he suddenly remembered his lack of action, however. Why had that been?

Had it been any other night, had it been any other beast, Piper would have given into his lust without a second thought, would have pulled the broad shouldered wolf back to his limousine, tearing off his shirt before they had even closed the door, and let himself be mounted, and hard, he would have relished the feel of the thick meat inside of him, the feeling of exquisite pain he still got every time he was penetrated, felt the hot breath of the wolf in his ear, begged to be fucked over and over until he couldn't take it, until he collapsed in a quivering heap, fur stained and mussed, spattered with sweat, with drool, with fiery hot spunk...

Piper had bite his lip hard to tear himself away from that fantasy, feeling himself starting to poke out of his sheath, his cock slick with arousal. He could have done all that, and yet he didn't...why? Had it been merely a result of the argument he had been fighting with that vicious little hiss of a voice that mocked him from inside his own head, accusing him of falling for the driver, accusing him of being a whore? This was worrying in itself, when arguments he had with imaginary voices inside his head were starting to shape his actions, but once again Piper decided to block this out of his head, instead just stepping to the shower to freshen up. Perhaps it was best he didn't try to think before he usually did, his brain just wasn't used to it. He wouldn't be able to trust any of his own judgements, so perhaps it was just best to leave these thoughts to later. After he got something to eat, perhaps, Piper thought, his stomach growling loudly.

Piper was in uncharacteristically high spirits as he made his way down to the lobby an hour or so later, feeling fresh and invigorated. He couldn't find his phone, however, which would have troubled him any other day, but this morning he just didn't seem to care. It was the one lifeline he had between himself and his manager, but this morning there was nothing further from his thoughts than hearing from the otter. Rainier could wait, he reasoned, smiling to himself as he stepped out of the elevator, rather shocked as he realised there were no cameras there to posture for.

But he didn't care. He smiled anyway.

Click.

It was a few hours later, and Piper was in the back of Dian's limousine, on the way to a shoot. Dian hadn't been in the lobby when Piper had left that morning; it had been a good hour or two before he was due. So instead of being chauffeured, and for the first time in what seemed an age, Piper walked out onto the street himself, relishing the feel of the morning sun on his face. There was no tinted glass between him and the street, no cage holding him in, and the fox felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It had seemed that every eye had followed him down the street, and every gaze he had met had responded with a questioning look, as though people were trying to work out where they had seen the beautiful snow-white fox before.

All the eyes in the world couldn't stop Piper enjoying his freedom, as imagined and brief as it was, and the fox had spent a few hours just wandering the streets, pausing in parks, at markets, beside rivers, his sky-blue eyes bright with excitement as he took in the everyday doldrums that every other beast took for granted. The city streets looked so different from the side walks, and even more so now it was morning, as opposed to the middle of the night. Everything was fresh and clean, seeming to sparkle and shimmer to the fox, lost in his own world. He eventually wandered back to the hotel, where he found Dian waiting for him, looking slightly harangued as he stood in the lobby.

"Piper, there you are!" The wolf had said when he arrived, sounding relieved. "The concierge said you left early this morning, and I had no way to reach you. I thought I had lost you." Dian said, looking a little abashed at the words that seemed to come from his mouth unbidden.

"Yes, I lost my cellphone somewhere last night, unfortunately." Piper replied, shrugging.

"I can help you with that." The Wolf replied, holding out something in his paw. "You left it in my limo last night. You must have been a little...preoccupied. I would have brought it up to you earlier, but by the time I realised I had it I figured you would be asleep." Piper took the phone from Dian's paw, blood rushing to his head and loins as their fur rubbed together. He frowned, however, when pressing the buttons yielded no response from the device.

"Must have died. I hope no-one tried to ring me." Piper muttered.

"Well you can place the blame on me if you have missed anything important." Dian said, moving open to hold open the lobby door for the fox. "If you'd like to come along sir? I don't want you to be late."

"Of course Dian. And what did I tell you about you calling me sir?" Piper replied as he climbed once more into the cool, dark interior of the limo.

"I'm sorry. I always forget when I'm worried." Dian replied, climbing into the driver seat ahead of him.

"Oh, you were worried about me? How sweet." Piper said, trying to hide a smile from his thin, elegant lips.

"I was worried I had lost my client, that's all." Dian said gruffly, gunning the engine into life. Piper waited a few seconds, holding his tongue until they were on the road.

"And was that all?" He finally said, but there was no response, Dian obviously choosing to pretend not to hear him. Piper could see though, in the rear-view mirror, the hint of a blush about the wolf's eyes. Again, he smiled, not for anyone else, but just for himself. He had to stop that, he thought, or it may just become a habit.

Smiles? Jokes? Trying to woo another without just waggling that sweet little ass? And all without pills? Why are you trying to hide what you are, you little whore? Like a whistling summer wind that little voice in his head came back, hot and vicious, but Piper ignored it. He was in too good a mood for any of that.

Click.

"Where the hell have you been?" Rainier hissed at Piper the second he walked into the studio, his eyes wild and furious.

"In the limo?" Piper replied, nonplussed. "And before that, my hotel."

"Don't get smart with me you little fucker. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Rainier growled, showing his teeth in his anger.

"Twelve. When I am supposed to be here, for make-up. The shoot doesn't start until one...doesn't it?" Piper said, suddenly unsure as he saw the fury bloom in his manager's eyes.

"It did. Until yesterday, when they changed the time on us. I was trying to ring your cellphone all night! The hotel said you weren't there, either. You are two hours late!" Rainier spat.

"My cellphone died...and I went out for dinner last night." Piper replied, shying away from the raging otter.

"Oh, well that's okay then. Completely understandable. When a hundred-million dollar model goes missing, with no way to get in contact with him, while he's on a shoot. Well that's just fine. Its only the Ashton spring line shoot, not to worry, only a twenty-five million dollar contract." Rainier thundered, gripping the fox by his elbow and pulling him along roughly, taking him deeper into the studio.

"It's the Ashton shoot today?" Piper replied, confused. Two days ago hearing he was late for such an important shoot would have made him sick with worry...today though, he just couldn't seem to summon the will power to care. Everything seemed...false, not important any more, like it was a game he'd played and revelled in as a child, recalled through the faded eyes of memory.

"You bet your expensive little ass it is!" Rainier snarled, whirling on Piper suddenly. Rainier cared, it showed in the mad glint to his eyes. He looked like he was teetering on the brink of losing it, trying to hold himself back from falling into the abyss that beckoned him. For a second Piper though he would snap, he would yell, perhaps strike the fox, that was how incensed he looked at the model's behaviour; But then they were moving again, dragging Piper roughly down corridors and through halls. Finally they swept through a set of glass doors and onto the set, the bright lights blinding him unexpectedly.

He was still blinking blearily as Rainier dragged him heavily across the floor, his vision clearing slowly to reveal the same familiar scene, the wall of cameras and lights, casting long stark shadows onto the set. The blank, cold eyes of the lenses stared unblinkingly, ready to record his humiliation. One more set of negatives, of proofs and light tests, one more line of photographs, just one more piece of his dwindling pride and humanity stripped away, just like every other time.

"He's here, he's arrived." Rainier was calling out, his voice placating and wheedling, waving at a huffy-looking beast that could only have been the photographer.

Someone was calling for make-up, for someone to come and dust the statue, polish the perfect marble that was Piper, but the sound seemed far away, the whole scene seemed distant, irritating, like the sound of an insect when one was half-asleep. Everything that seemed so important and vital only yesterday now seemed foolish and trivial, a vague annoyance, and Piper couldn't help but showing his distaste as Rainier fussed about him.

"What is it kiddo, what's wrong? You look a little hungover. You need your pills?" The otter asked, fumbling in the pocket of his jacket.

"I'm not hungover Rainier, I didn't even have a drink last night." Piper muttered.

"Well that's probably the problem. We'll get you one soon enough my boy, but first you need to take a few of these. Just a few more." Rainier said, thrusting a cupped paw into the fox's face. There were those little pills, so blue and perfect, glinting softly in the harsh light of the studio. Yesterday they seemed like little lifesavers, something to cling to in a mad, stormy ocean, but today they were...different.

"I haven't had any today Rainier." Piper said, his voice sounding small amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy studio.

"Well no wonder you aren't feeling tip-top kid, just take a few of these and you'll be flying again."

"But I don't want to take them." Piper replied, his voice sounding childish and whining in his own ears. His head was beginning to pound now; why would they never turn those damned lights off, their bright beams were making his eyes throb painfully, and he could feel his temper straining.

"What?" Rainier asked, the shock clear on his face.

"I said I didn't want any of your damn pills." Piper growled. Now there were make-up artists flitting about him now, touching up here, spritzing there, like gnats they buzzed about him, and he was having trouble from keeping a snarl from creeping about his muzzle.

"Now you listen to me Piper." Rainier snarled, pulling his face close to the fox's. "You are going to take these pills, then you are going to smile for the cameras, then you are going to put on something pretty and be a good little model, yeah?"

"I don't want to..." Piper mumbled, his anger faltering under the harsh eyes of his manager.

"Nobody gives a shit what you want Piper." Rainier hissed, his eyes cold and hard. "Because you are bigger than just you. You belong to the cameras, you belong to the public, and you belong to the public. Now take your pills and do what I say!"

Something snapped inside the fox then, a wash of bile rolling through his innards, the snarl ripping from his throat as he knocked the stylists back, knocked the bottle of pills from Rainier's paw, sending the blue pills flying. They scattered in mid-air, pouring from the bottle as it turned in space, watched by the wall of never-blinking cameras. The polished pills glinted like diamonds in the lights, every single eye whether prosthetic or real, cold or warm focused on them as they flew up, seeming to hang in the suddenly silent air.

"I don't want your fucking pills!" Piper barked loudly, his fur bristling angrily around his face, his tail stiff as a rod behind him. There was no sound in the studio, not a movement. Glossy and still, the whole scene was a frozen tableau, caught in time like just another of so many photographs. The smell of celluloid and the the burning dust smell of the sodium flashbulbs, the glint of reflected light off of every polished or glass surface, shining like a million diamonds, the whole god-awful scene could have easily been from any fashion shoot.

Except his hair in this shot was awful.

The clattering hail of pills striking the hard studio floor bought the whole room back to life, the hollow bouncing sound of the pill bottle bouncing across the floor accompanied by the released breaths of the dozens gathered. Everyone in the world knew Piper, sure; but everyone in the fashion world knew Rainier, and his legendary temper.

Rainier wasn't making a move though, he was just standing there, goggle-eyed, his breathing ragged and loud, his fists clenching and unclenching. Any other day, Piper would have faded, wilted, gone back to just being a photograph, a billboard, anything but a real person. But not today; even in the face of that blow-torch gaze he stood firm, bristling and full of fire.

"Rainier, is there a problem?" Came a voice from behind, breaking the spell of silence that hung over the studio. Rainier whipped round with such pure fury in his eyes that the speaker flinched slightly as if struck by a physical blow, but when the otter saw who had spoken his countenance changed almost instantly.

"No problem, nothing to worry about." Rainier insisted, his momentary paralysis and ill-temper gone so quickly it was as if it had never existed. "Just a slight difference of opinion between myself and my client."

"Well, is it going to affect my shoot?" The speaker said, and Piper saw it was the weasel photographer who he seemed to see so regularly.

"No, not at all." Rainier said, grinning a sickly grin, reaching out and gripping Piper by the wrist with and iron grip. "Why don't you just start taking your preliminary shots while I take care of this." He said, twisting the fox's arm behind his back and starting to push him roughly towards the stage door. "Go" He snarled into Piper's ear, forcing him out into the dimly-lit corridor.

"Get your fucking paws off of me!" Piper erupted as soon as they were alone, twisting in Rainier's grip, but the otter grabbed the model by his throat and slammed him hard against the cold concrete wall. Stars swam in front of his eyes, and the dazed fox couldn't bring himself to do anything but gape at his manager's snarling muzzle.

"There, have I got you attention? What the fuck are you playing at?" Rainier hissed

"Look, I'm over this. I don't want to do it any more." Piper replied, gathering himself.

"Oh, not this fucking record again." Rainier spat disgustedly. "Listen to me kid, and listen hard, because this is the last fucking time I'll say it. If you were anyone else, I'd throw you to the curb for this in a second, and I promise you'd never work another shoot in this fucking business, not even for Walmart."

"Maybe I want that!" Piper cried out, but Rainier slapped him, hard enough to make his head swim again.

"Oh wake up! When I found you you were two days away from starving, and one away from selling that tail to the highest bidder. And you know where that leads to?" Rainier snarled, his face still twisted with malice. "That leads to you being a bloated faggot corpse, either by aids or from a junkie overdose. Trust me kid, I've seen it happen, and it ain't pretty." With that he released the fox, his fury subsiding slightly, but the disgust in his eyes growing more pronounced.

Piper rubbed his face tenderly, not saying a word, staring hard at his manager with hate still in his eyes. Rainier pulled cigarette packet from inside his jacket, pulling one of the slim cylinders free with his teeth, and offering the pack to Piper.

"Oh don't give me that look." Rainier growled, lighting the cigar with a silver zippo. "You would have ended up in the gutter, covered in your own shit, begging for change as you bled out your ears, eyes and nose, before choking to death on your own puke. Believe me kid, I saved your life." Rainier sneered, exhaling smoke from both his nostrils. "Now we are two weeks away from the spring line launch, you are the cover boy for the biggest designer label in the world, and you go acting up on me in a multi-million dollar shoot...what the fuck is wrong with you?

"Look, I don't want it any more. I don't care about the fame, the money, any of it. I just...I want it to be over." Piper protested. "I don't even know who I am."

"You're a nameless nobody with a fucking amazing body who I made famous. And when this world is done with you you'll be a nobody once more." Rainier said, coldly and matter-of-factly. The sheer honesty and coldness of the statement hit him in the guts like a sledgehammer. "But it's not done with you yet." Rainier continued before Piper could say anything, reaching into his pocket to bring another bottle of pills out into the light. "So take two of these, and get back to work while the world still wants you."

"But I don't want to." Piper whispered.

"I know." Rainier said quietly. "But I don't care." His cold eyes fixed on Piper's again, but the fox tried his best to not fold under that iron-hard gaze. "Now are you going to be famous, or are you going to be gutter trash?" Something fluttered in Piper's memory, and he felt his soul waver, his mind falter, and finally he felt his willpower collapse under Rainier's eyes.

He reached out slowly, hesitantly, but he took the two proffered pills from the otter's outstretched hand, and with a resigned sigh he swallowed them. They slid down his throat like a couple of lead weights, hitting his stomach like a bowling ball. He reached out and took two more from the otter, then one more for good measure, swallowing them with eyes downcast.

"Easy on the meds kid, these aren't cheap. Can't have you going back in there all bruised and swollen." Piper heard his manager say, with a smug note of satisfaction ringing clear. He allowed himself to be dragged away as his senses dulled again, as the pain inside himself went away. No, not away...he just didn't care about it any more.

He found himself being pushed into his waiting limousine, saw the shadow of Dian hovering outside his door, heard him talking to Rainier, but it was all coming from such a long way away. All Piper could think about were the butterflies, emerald green, flapping somewhere in his distant memory.

"Is he all right?" That was Dian's voice. Flap flap, those beating wings, so soft and fragile.

"He's fine. Take him away for the night. A spa or something upstate. Don't bring him back until tomorrow night." That was Rainier now. Soft sunlight playing on green wings...he always felt so safe when he thought of those butterflies.

"But his face is bruised." Dian was saying now, his voice sounding concerned. Those butterflies reminded him of his life...his old life. When he had been safe...when everything was so uncomplicated.

"Mind the fucking steering wheel, will ya? And for fucks sake keep him in sigh at all times, all right?" Rainier snarled, storming away. Piper felt a wrench of sorrow, of fear and woe, when his memory flickered to other events. The thoughts that his manager's voice made him remember...

"Are you okay, Piper?" Dian was saying now, somewhere in the distance. They were moving now, driving quickly, but Piper had no idea how long they had been moving, or where to.

"Just drive, Dian." Piper mumbled. He knew Dian would be looking in the rear view mirror, turning those soft, soulful eyes to the fox, but he couldn't bring himself to look. He could only hear Rainier's voice in his head, in his memory.

"But Piper," Dian said, but his voice trailed off, distant and muffled, as Piper fell deeper into his own dark memories.

Click.

It was night time, years ago. Piper's head span as he stepped out of the noisy party, his feet barely able to hold his weight. It was only a few days after Rainier had discovered him, and the otter had bought him to this party, in the biggest apartment the young fox had ever seen. It was bigger than his whole house had been,all marble and chrome and tall, tall windows. There was champagne, oh, the champagne!

The fox had never had a drop of the stuff before, but the way the bubbles rushed though him, the way they danced and winked to him from the rim of his glass, the way they burst on his tongue and sent his brain spinning, he never wanted to drink anything else!

Rainier had introduced him to so many people, so many pairs of staring eyes, and laughing teeth...that was all the fox could ever remember, his head was spinning so hard. Those glossy eyes, and stark-white teeth, like bleached bones lying under some desolate sun. On the ride up in the elevator he had been shaking so hard, and was so scared; he had never been in an elevator before, let alone one with mirrors on the walls, so infinite reflections of himself spread out in all directions, billions of copies of him, this stupid lost kid, shaking in his pure-white fur and brand-new designer clothes.

Rainier had seen him quivering and grinned hungrily, his hand disappearing into his pocket and pulling forth a couple of solid, powder-blue pills, perfectly round and gleaming dully. Rainier had said they would help him to relax, but Piper wasn't sure. Rainier had laughed and shook his head, making the fox feel ever more like just some dumb kid from the sticks, making a billion Arctic foxes blush and tuck their perfect ears close to their skull. Why would the otter do anything to hurt

him? He was offering fame, fortune, security, a life Piper could never have dreamed of a few weeks ago. He had already bought him all these clothes, this haircut, and was taking him to this party, to meet the people who would make him famous.

So why would Rainier want to hurt him?

A billion paws went out, took from a billion other outstretched paws.

Two billion pills flashed for a second, then disappeared, laying for a second on one billion perfectly plum red tongues, before disappearing down one billion white-furred throats.

Even with all those billions of Pipers, each one still made the wrong choice.

And so Piper had partied, had drunk champagne, had met all those flashy teeth and glossy eyes, had felt his head spin and laughed so hard until he just couldn't take it any more, and he stumbled away, trying to find a quiet place to rest his head. He found a dark bedroom, and closed the door behind him, trying to steady himself before collapsing onto the silk sheets. Ah! Silk sheets...he had never felt a bed this soft, this warm.

He heard the door open behind him, close behind him, saw the light pass over his eyes even through closed lids.

"Ah Jesus, what a party huh kid?" A voice said, Rainier's, a voice slurring and tipsy. "And it's going to be like this, all the way. Booze, cars, clothes, whatever you want. Oh, and the tail you're going to get!"

Piper wanted to say something, but he couldn't bring himself to talk.

"Oh wow, you can have whatever you want. I remember when I was in your shoes kid, back in my day. I was fighting him off with a stick. Not so much any more though." Rainier said, hiccuping. "Oh yeah, you'll be big. You'll be a star, if you stick with me. It's your figure kid, your body. It's enough to make any women envious, and enough to make any guy wanna fuck you,even the straight ones."

Piper felt a lingering touch on his rump, but didn't say anything. How could he, he could barely move.

"Oh yeah kid, you have a great ass, even for a guy." The touch became a grope, a squeeze, then paws were kneading his buttocks, roughly, painfully. "Any guy will wanna fuck you. Even the straight ones." Piper wanted to stop Rainier, but he couldn't move. Even if he could, would he? The otter was helping him so much...he was making him a star. He couldn't say anything. He felt himself grow stiff and felt his face burning with shame, felt his heart ache with disgust at himself, but he still didn't move.

He felt his eight-hundred dollar jeans being loosened, pulled down around his knees, and felt a wet sensation on his tail-hole, as his pure white tail was roughly pulled out of the way. He had never been fucked before, but he couldn't say anything to stop the otter, not if that meant he might lose this job.

"Oh yeah kid, I'm gonna make you a star." His manager breathed, his weight leaning on top of the young fox. He felt a pressure on his tail-hole, a pain, a burning pain, and he bit his lip hard to stop from crying out. He balled his fists as he felt the otter slide his cock into him, right up to the hilt, slowly at first, but as Piper stretched out he sped up, grunting and mumbling as he fucked the fox. Piper tasted blood in his mouth as he bit down to stop from crying out, but tears still spilled down his cheeks, matted his fur and stained the silk sheets.

Eventually Rainier started to speed up in his strokes, his grunting louder, his breath more ragged, his thrusts harder, reaching to a crescendo, a vicious climax. Piper quivered with shame, his own cock hard and dripping beneath him as the otter ravaged him, his ass stretched and painful, but as he expected the climax the otter was gone, pulling out of the fox, grunting and moaning, jerking heavily, lashings of hot semen spraying across the shaking form of Piper. It was a few minutes before Rainier regained his composure, his breath returning to normal, all the while Piper still lying prone, weeping quietly. He could feel cum seeping through his fur, feel it sting his eyes, taste it mixed with his own blood in his maw.

"Oh yeah kid, you're going to be fucking beautiful." Rainier murmured, slapping a hand lightly on the fox's tender rump. Piper heard him stand and leave, leaving the door slightly open behind him, but he still couldn't move. Whether he was inebriated or otherwise, his shame at what had happened was overwhelming. He could still feel his painful erection underneath him, a reminder of his own desire, and that made him hate himself even more. He didn't hear the door pushed open again, but he felt the light wash over him, and felt a gentle hand brush his tender rump.

"So, you're going to be a star?" A voice asked, a different voice, a rough and drunken voice.

Piper bit his lip again, and closed his eyes.

Click.

Piper couldn't remember how many times that scene had repeated itself that night; truth be told he didn't want to. He shut it out, tried his best to forget what had happened to him. A few weeks after that nightmare had taken place Piper began his meteoric rise to fame, and for a while, he had forgotten about the shame, the horror, the self-loathing that he had felt when he woken the next day. Curled under a blazing shower head he had crouched for hours, the pressure high enough to wash the crusted and matted semen from his fur, the nail-hard water hot enough to scald the fox, but never enough to wash away the stain of violation from his soul.

No shower was hot or hard enough to truly remove the taint, but for a while the drugs, the parties, the flashbulbs and the glamour had done their best to hide them away, lock them away to the dark recesses of the brain. But eventually the glamour faded, and the star-struck fox felt those dark feelings again, and he realized a sobering and horrid truth. All he was was a shell, one of those rubber sex dolls, something to be fucked and used, to be violated and then discarded. Nothing had changed since that night; he though he was leaving it behind, forgetting it, but it was really just an introduction to what his life was from now on.

Every snap of a flash bulb was like another penetrating thrust, every stylist running meticulous paws over him was just another covetous, groping hand, every dash of make up, every dust of rouge or squirt of moisturiser was just another stain of love, like hot spunk clinging to his form. Voices, heavy and rough with passion cried at him to writhe, to twist, to do just what he was there for, to be fucked and used.

And Piper accepted it, and did everything that was expected of him, winked and smiled, showed just a little more fang, because all the while he had those gimlet eyes, the putrid stare of Rainier watching him, the stare that sent shivers up his spine and feelings of revulsion every time the otter's paw would touch the fox's fur. Every time he felt that touch, or those eyes on his body he couldn't help but remember that night, that horrible night, what had happened to him...and he couldn't move, couldn't think. That night, when Rainier had done that to him, he had taken much more than just a simple fuck from the fox. He had robbed him of self-control, and filled him with fear and doubt, he had crippled and hobbled the model, made Piper his own little puppet.

So to quiet those feelings, hide that disgust, to try and forget himself, Piper had started using Rainier's little pills more and more. What had been a casual use became a full blown addiction, so bad that Piper couldn't function without them. He was truly the otter's little slave now, his vessel to the fame and fortune Rainier himself had never achieved when he had been a model.

But what more could Piper do? Go back to the street? He was hooked now, a junkie; a beautiful, rich junkie living a life of parties and catwalks, but a junkie nonetheless, a prisoner in his own body. It was better than nothing, and it only took a couple of those perfect little pills to make Piper forget, to bring that smile back, to make him perfect for those cameras.

All those winking eyes, those flickering stars, all looking at him.

Well, looking at the space where he used to be.

Click.

Horrible curtains.

Mauve, in that terrible bunched Spanish-villa style, too large for the bay windows, too garish for the room.

These were the first thoughts Piper remembered as he surfaced from the murky depths of his own mind, blinking owlishly as he became aware of the dull ache in his cheek from where Rainier had slapped him.

They had driven for a long time, Piper could only guess as to how long exactly, but the sun was gone from the sky and the city lights were long gone behind now. They were on the coast, holed up in some boutique hotel Dian had found, with broad bay windows overlooking a silvery ocean, but Piper wasn't sure if it was the Pacific or the Atlantic.

Hell, for that matter how did he know it was either? What language were they speaking in that city? He couldn't even remember. This stretch of water could be anything; the English Channel, the Beijing Strait, the Tasman Sea...Piper tried his best to stop thinking, his head still groggy and unresponsive from the meds. It didn't matter where he was, it was still just water. Two pale moons reflected light onto his face, one above and one below, and soft silver breakers washed against a dark pebble beach with a rhythmic lapping sound.

Beside Piper on the expansive, downy soft bed was what remained of an ice pack Dian had brought him for his face, melted long before. Piper vaguely remembered the husky bringing it to him silently, his jaw set grimly, his eyes avoiding the sedated model's. In fact the whole drive he had been as silent as the grave, eyes set straight ahead, all the way to this hotel where he booked two rooms, a suite for the model and a single for himself. He had helped Piper to his room, practically carrying him past hotel staff doing their best to try and not stare as the husky had practically carried the limp and unresponsive fox, before disappearing for the last few hours.

The fox was just wondering where the husky could have gone, and whether or not room service was still available, when there came a curt knock at the door. Piper gave affirmation and Dian entered the room, looking more proper and severe than the fox had ever seen him.

"If there's nothing else sir, I'll turn in for the evening." Dian said, not meeting the fox's gaze.

"Dian, wait." Piper said, and the husky paused, turning to meet his gaze as the fox realised he had very little to say. "I'm sorry about today." Piper said lamely, searching for something to keep the husky in the room. As soon as he saw those eyes Piper felt a surge of unexplainable joy, a wave of peace roll through his body.

"Nothing to be sorry about sir. You're sick, like you said." Dian said stiffly.

"No, Dian, I'm not. Not unless being an addict is a sickness." Piper replied softly.

"I figured." Dian shrugged, looking now at the floor. "But it's none of my business, sir."

"Well why do you seem to be taking this so hard?"

"I...well..." Dian said, mouthing uselessly, at a loss for words. "No, it's stupid."

"What?" Piper asked, cocking his head to one side.

"For some reason I find myself...caring about you, sir...Piper." Dian corrected himself, looking back up at the fox. "I just...worry, needlessly. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Piper laughed, trying to hold the blush from his cheeks, the pain in his head all but forgotten. "It's nice to know someone cares. Now, you are still my attaché, right?"

"Yes." Dian agreed, not doing quite as well to hide his embarrassment from Piper, the pink of his skin showing around his eyes.

"Well, is it so much to ask to get a little dinner?" Piper asked.

"Well, I bought you some earlier, but you weren't...in an agreeable state sir." Dian said, his eyes flicking away again nervously. "So I left it on the table for you."

"Oh. Well would you like to join me for a late supper Dian?" Piper asked.

"All right then Piper." The husky said, grinning.

"Why don't you get a couple of beers from the mini bar?" Piper called over his shoulder as he went into the kitchenette and found the now-cold food Dian had bought for him. "They're on me." The two went and sat on the balcony under the midnight moon, perched on uncomfortable faux-Victorian wrought-iron chairs, relishing the cool beers and gently salty sea breeze. Piper picked over the cold meal the best he could, but he always found it impossible to eat after taking those pills, so most of it went to waste. Piper couldn't believe how quiet, how calm it was. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at peace, although it might have something to do with the company, he thought, glancing sidelong at the motionless canid. It was silent for some time, both beasts lost in their own thoughts, the only sound the gentle lapping of the ocean, but it was Piper who finally broke the night still.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question Dian?" He said, rolling the half-empty beer bottle between his palms.

"If I can ask you one." He replied quickly, his query obviously heavy on his mind.

"Fine." Piper smiled. "Why do you think you found yourself...caring about me?

"Well...honestly? This is my first job as a limo driver, and...I didn't used to be a taxi driver. I used to be a pizza guy." Dian said, and peals of laughter burst forth from the fox. "What?" Dian asked, his gentle face twisted in bemusement.

"You're joking." Piper laughed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"No, seriously. I was for years." Dian said, looking a little crestfallen at the model's laughter. "But I turned twenty-eight, and I thought, 'hell, I can't do this all my life', and driving is really my only experience, so...I stepped up to Limo driver."

"That doesn't answer my question, Dian." Piper said, trying his best not to picture the husky with a stack of pizza boxes, lest his laughter ring out again.

"Well, if you'll let me finish," Dian said a little reproachfully, "I've always had a reputation for...caring a little too much. I just hate to see a person hurt themselves. I guess it stems from my mom."

"So you're always a big carer, you've just never had the chance before?" Piper said, carefully sidestepping the 'mother' issue, as he sensed it was a sensitive one.

"Hey, how attached can you get to a deep-dish pepperoni?" Dian replied, and Piper laughed again. "Okay, can I ask my question now?"

"Go for it." Piper murmured, although he was fairly certain he knew what it was going to be.

"Why do you use?" Dian said quietly. Piper scanned the husky's face carefully, saw the grim line in his brow, the worried frown on his muzzle, and he sighed.

"So you say you've always had a tendency to care to much?" He said quietly.

"Yeah, I can't tell you how many sad life stories I've heard." Dian replied, smiling softly.

"Want to hear another?" Piper whispered, almost inaudible against the backdrop of the softly lapping waves. The husky nodded, and Piper opened up. He told him everything, from the night he had left home, to his fear and loneliness in the city, to Rainier's 'chance' meeting, to the party, and everything since. Dian listened silently, his expression growing steadily more grim as the story continued, became more sordid, more bleak. At last it was over, and the two sat in silence, until at last the husky sighed, straightening his back and shaking his head.

"So..." Dian said finally, voice creaky from being silent so long. "You use to hide from your own feelings, to hide from the disgust you feel around your manager, that otter? You use to hide from yourself?"

"Basically." Piper said, nodding. "I couldn't get through the day without those drugs." He said sadly.

"Well why don't you quit?" Dian asked, but Piper snorted.

"Yeah? And do what?"

"Who cares?" Dian replied loudly. "Anything! Just get in your car and drive as far away as you can, start over!"

"It's not that easy Dian. It's not so easy to escape." Piper muttered.

"You'd be surprised what a thousand miles of asphalt can heal Piper." Dian grunted.

"You don't understand." Piper sighed. "Rainier made me. Without him, I'd be nothing. I am nothing." He said, but Dian shook his head.

"I don't understand. You say you use to escape from yourself, but whenever I've seen you, you've been nothing like what you say you're afraid of. What, were you high all that time?" Dian asked.

"No...it's hard to explain." Piper muttered, and now it was his turn to blush. "It's...around you, I can't explain...I feel...calm. At peace. You do something to me, there's something about you, and I don't know what it is, but you make me feel so...different." Piper said, struggling to find the words. He sighed and got to his feet, shaking his head, but he found the husky was standing too, towering over him.

"Look, I'm sorry if I touched a nerve. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Dian said, smiling sadly. "I'll go."

"No, it's okay Dian..." Piper sighed, but the husky cut him off.

"No, really. I can see you're uneasy. Just...think about what I said okay? You don't have to keep going down this self-destructive path." He said softly. Yes I do, Piper thought, but something else came out of his mouth.

"Dian...thank you." He said.

"What for?"

"I think you're the only person who's cared about me, really me, in a long time. And I barely know you." Piper said, smiling warmly.

"You're welcome. Like I said, its a tendency of mine. I can't help it." The husky shrugged. "But...remember there is something to care about. You're worth a lot more than you think." Dian said, laying a soft hand on the fox's shoulder. The air was thick with tension, but all the words seemed to stick in Piper's throat. They stood there at the doorway for God only knows how long, but neither said anything, made a move.

"Well, its late. I should let you rest sir." Dian said after what seemed an age, breaking the tension. "Good night." The husky said, nodding and going to step away, but as he did a shaft of light caught his face, illuminating his eyes, and Piper burst into laughter, wild, mad laughter. Dian froze, his face a confused mask, his eyes still caught in the light.

"That's, that's what, what it is!" Piper laughed, struggling for breath.

"What?" Dian asked, confused as all hell.

"That's why I, I feel, why you make me feel so safe!" Piper sputtered, still gulping great lungfuls of air amidst his happy laughter.

"Why?"

"Your eyes! They're the same colour as the butterflies!" Piper said, laughing wildly. And it was true; the husky's eyes, those brilliant, verdant fields, those limpid emerald pools, those gentle wells that sparkled with shamrock hue, they were the exact colour as the butterflies that haunted Piper's memory. The fox laughed and laughed, shaking with mirth, until finally he ceased, looking still into the eyes, the bemused face of the poor husky.

"Dian..." Piper muttered, shaking his head, still grinning from ear to ear, stepping in close, laying a flat palm on the husky's driver's jacket "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Dian replied, still confused

"When you said...when you said I was worth more than I thought...how much am I worth to you?" Piper asked.

"Piper..." Dian started, but the fox laid his other paw over the husky's muzzle.

"Do you care about me? Do you have feelings for me?"

"I..."

"Answer the question! You're the first person who's ever cared about me Dian, but is it pity? Or is there something more, because I have to know." Piper cut him off, staring into those perfect, beautiful eyes. Dian didn't say anything, he just stood, staring at the fox, not moving, not even breathing, every second dragging on for what seemed a lifetime, until...

He nodded.

"That's all I need to know." Piper grunted, leaning in close to the husky, exhaling a shaky, excited breath. "Kiss me." He whispered, still watching his eyes. Dian leaned in and planted a soft, gentle kiss on the fox's lips, and Piper felt himself go weak. Then a surge shot through his body, making the fur down his spine stand rigid, made his breath catch in his throat, his back stiffen, his blood boil, his head spin...it was better than anything he had ever taken.

The kiss pressed on, Piper breathing in Dian's rich aroma, falling deeper into an embrace with him, his slender body wrapped around by Dian's muscular arms, Piper's head starting to go in the rush, and he let go, gave in, and let the moment take him.

Click.

The kiss became more passionate, tongues touching, exploring fresh territory, probing, checking, before beginning their dance, their wrestle, their meeting.

Click.

Jackets, shirts were hastily ripped off, Piper gasping as with one motion Dian tore open his shirt, revealing his snow-white pelt. Blood rushing through his form, the fox felt himself starting to thicken, to slip out of his sheath, when he held the husky he could feel his thicker, heavier cock as well, and he let out a shuddering breath.

Click.

Spinning bodies, flailing limbs, a broken lamp. Oh well, that's what a damage deposit is for.

Click.

Dian's hot breath in his ear, Piper allowed himself to be lowered to the bed, his eyes searching the gentle husky's face, his lips mouthing nothings, Dian grinning, biting gently the side of Piper's neck, the fox groaning, back arching, sweat beginning to form on his body.

Click.

Paws gathered bunches of blankets as rough hands moved with surprising gentility, stroking softly Piper's chest, stomach, neck, a straying paw to the bulge in his crotch, where it was straining, trying to get out.

Click.

Sound of zippers, grunts, heavy breathing.

Click.

Dian released Piper's cock gently, easing his pants off, the model lying completely naked, vulnerable, letting out a soft moan as his member was released, his cock gleaming softly, wetly, red and dripping slightly, his knot fat and twitching with desire.

Click.

Smell of bleach and ammonia, sweat, and the salty rime of the ocean.

Click.

Dian's pink tongue, poking out of his mouth, going down, licking softly at Piper's shaft, starting just above the knot, painting to the tip in hot saliva, Piper letting out a soft cry. No-one's done this to him before. He's always been fucked, never the other way around. Dian's lips curling in a smile, before his muzzle goes down, taking in Piper's length slowly, his veiny red rod disappearing slowly into the husky's mouth, his lips surprisingly gentle, his free hand caressing the knot of Piper's cock.

Piper arched his back, grunting, whimpering, for him the first time on the receiving end. He wanted so bad to pleasure Dian, but everything was out of reach, still tucked inside boxer shorts, so he had to settle for running his paws through Dian's headfur, ruffling his ears, pressing his mouth further down onto his cock. Dian used a cheap conditioner, Piper could tell, but he didn't care, he would buy the husky his own personal hairdresser after this.

Click.

People passing in the hall, hear grunts, moans, wet slurping. Keep walking.

Click.

Dian wrapped his long tongue fully around Piper's cock, teasing the sensitive tip and knot, licking, nibbling gently, grinning as he could feel the fox tense, his body start to quiver, hear a rising moan in his throat. Dian pulled the cock out of his mouth and began to slowly, teasingly, work his way down, down, eyes cast up at the anguished, screwed up face of the beautiful fox.

Piper let out a cry, it was time. He arched his back so hard he thought it was going to snap in two, his whole body tensing in ecstasy. His shaft went rigid, hard as iron, jerked convulsively, and Dian swallowed spurt after spurt, growling appreciatively, his paw wrapped around Piper's quivering fuzzy sack, milking every last drop. With Piper still shivering Dian pulled out, the fox's juicy cock offering one last spurt, a dash of off-white across his black snout. Pink tongue flashed out, tasting every last drop, a devilish grin.

Click.

Taste of thick, cloying cream, tin and fish, hint of a half-finished beer.

Click.

Piper pawed desperately at Dian's shorts, grunting hungrily, still shaking from a powerful orgasm. Dian on his knees, pulling shorts down slowly, fat cock sliding out into the light. Darker than Piper's, almost purple, fatter, thicker knot, same smell as before, ammonia and bleach. Piper sighed, head spinning, drunken with lust, gripping the husky's shoulders, forcing him down onto the quilted bedspread, his cock pointing to the ceiling like a weathervane.

Click.

Lonely gull cries outside the window, pecking at remain of an uneaten dinner. It is ignored.

Click.

Piper was searching for lubricant, anything to ease the process. Dian said in his wallet, and there it was, in something like a ketchup sachet, spermicidal lubricant, not that either of them was worried about getting pregnant. Piper tore it open, covering two fingers with the lubricant, squeezing the rest onto Dian's cock, who gasped at the cold liquid. With one paw Piper spread the mix on the fat cock, evenly and thickly, with the other his own tailhole, stretching it just a bit, biting his lip in anticipation. Not wasting any time.

Dian moaned, Piper's hand working a little harder than strictly necessary, but the fox finally is ready, one knee on either side of the fox, reaching back to grab his purple shaft, guiding it towards his own slippery ass. A slight feeling of pressure, then the first bite of intrusion, Piper's brow creasing in pain. He bit his lip, both paws grabbing thick pawfuls of the husky's abundant chest fur, sliding himself slowly onto the shaft. Pain at first, but then pleasure as he got used to it, his lips parting to let out a sigh of effort, Dian shuddering with the sensation.

Piper took his time, slowly and surely working his way down the shaft until all but the fat know was inside of him. He took a quick breath, getting used to the size of the shaft inside him. He had had bigger, longer, fatter, but not in a while, and Dian's was by no means small. He felt the fat knot pressing at his tailhole and bit his lip; he was not quite ready for that yet. A slight shift, sliding up and down, both of them letting out a grunt of pleasure.

Click.

Feeling of thick fur in paws, of heady arousal, of being filled, stretched and abused, the pain of pleasure.

Click.

Piper started slow, leaning back, working up and down, relishing the look on the husky's face. Those eyes, those perfect eyes that made him feel so safe, so new, they were crinkled at the edges, the husky's muzzle pulled taut in the sneer of the truly aroused. He let the husky's meat slide in and out, tensing his muscles, gripping the shaft, relishing every second, of being in charge for once, for once being equal with the person inside him.

Piper let out a moan, a whimper of pleasure, his tailhole stretched and raw, but he couldn't stop from sliding the slick purple shaft in and out of himself. He threw his head back and leaned right back, arching his back, and Dian's hand began to fondle his shaft again, his cock responding to the advances, sliding forth slowly, still slick and tender. Piper bit his lip as Dian stroked it softly, reaching back himself, under his tail, wrapping his fist around the cock, feeling where it was penetrating him, his paw brushing his own stretched hole, fondling his knot, then his sack, softly, tenderly, working shaft and sack deftly, Dian yelping in surprise.

With a grunt Dian reached up and pulled the fox forward, then on top of himself, the two lying one atop the other. Piper's breath caught in his throat as he saw the desire in Dian's eyes, the pure animal lust, his pulse quickening as he felt Dian's broad paws wrap around his rump, taking tight hold. Dian began to buck his hips, starting to fuck the fox hard, grunting with every thrust, Piper breathless and shaking.

Dian's pumping got faster, harder, every thrust pushing the knot harder against Piper's asshole, stretching him, his throat ragged as he fought for breath. His shaft was rubbing through Dian's thick fur, his tender cock quivering already with arousal, his whole body beginning to shake. One word, just one word, grunted, rough, more a bark than anything, came from Dian's throat.

"Tie?" Piper heard that word and felt his body tense up. He could feel the knot pressing against him with each stroke, and he wanted it in him.

"Yuh-" Piper began, But Dian already made the decision. The shot of pain, the stretching, the force of that fat knot of muscle cramming itself into Piper's body, it was enough to make anyone scream.

"YES!" He screamed, long and loud

Click.

At the reception desk below, the attendants, glassy eyed, try to ignore the screams of pleasure ringing through the lobby.

Click.

"Fuck, Yes!" Piper was moaning, his back arching, sitting up again, his cock spurting hot lashings of cum all over Dian's panting muzzle. Dian was almost there too, his cock kicking and spurting inside Piper's tortured ass. He bucked once, twice, then looked at Piper, fixed with those emerald-green eyes...and came.

Sitting up, grabbing Piper's hips with rough claws, howling bloody murder into the night sky, cock spewing cum into the fox's innards, bodies shaking, intertwined, covered in the stains of their lust, of their mating, sweat, saliva, semen, lubricant was everywhere. Tongues lolling, eyes bulging, hearts wailing like trip hammers. Exhausted, the both collapsed into one another, still tied firmly.

Click.

Hours later, brash sun peeking through windows, illuminating messy room, rumpled and stained sheets, and the model and his driver still asleep, curled close into each other, a mess of tangled limbs and fur. The warm light, pouring past those hideous curtains, washing over the silent beasts as they slumbered peacefully.

Piper awoke a few hours later, the warm sun losing it's rosy glow as it climbed to it's zenith, the sound of tumbling breakers filling his mind and ears. A slow smile crept across his muzzle, a slow paw rubbing the place Dian had slept, questing and searching for a little left-over warmth from the husky's body, but it had long since faded.

Still damp and with a white cotton towel wrapped around his waist the huksy stepped into the bedroom from the shower, his mouth breaking into a gentle smile when he saw the fox had awoken, and Piper couldn't help but let his heart sing as he let his eyes rove over Dian's body. His usually stiff and proper posture slightly stooped and round-shouldered, like one embarrassed by his size, his ever-so-slightly crooked teeth, his ungroomed fur, still thick from winter growth, the smell of name-brand fur shampoo and cheap cologne that followed him wherever he went...Piper couldn't help but feel himself loving all these little imperfections in the Husky's body. So used to pristine, perfect conditions, where every hair was in place, every fibre conditioned and controlled, he felt strangely attracted to such blemishes, minor as they were.

"So," Dian said, the low rumble of his voice sending an involuntary shiver through the model, still lying prone and naked on the bed. "How did you sleep?"

"Good." Piper murmured softly, swinging his body around and sitting naked on the edge of the bed.

"What do you want to do?" Dian asked, rubbing a second towel behind his peaked ears to dry himself.

"Huh?" Piper said distractedly, still lost in the husky's body.

"Today. I was supposed to take you back tonight." Dian replied, a slightly strained note in his tone.

"Oh. Rainier wanted me back by tonight, huh?" Piper said, and Dian nodded glumly.

"We'll have to leave now if you want to get back."

"Dian, I..."

"No, I understand." Dian interrupted, looking grim. "You can't control yourself, you can't live without the drugs, without that chain around your neck."

"It's not that. I...I just can't do it myself." Piper said softly, looking up into the husky's verdant eyes.

"Well then I'll help you. I'll help you get out." Dian replied.

"What, we're just going to get in a car and drive away, put a couple of thousand miles between us and them?" Piper snorted, a sad smile on his face.

"Why not?" Dian replied, and Piper choked, shaking his head.

"Oh come on. You'll just drop your whole life to start a new life with me, a complete stranger?" Piper asked.

"Look, Piper, it's not like that. I'm not saying we should run off and have some bizarre eloper's wedding, start a life together. All I'm saying is I know you need help, and I want to give it to you. It's that simple." Dian said earnestly,and Piper shook his head, not willing to trust the earnest look in the husky's eyes, not willing to let his hopes rise.

"You're serious?" Piper said, searching the husky's eyes for any trace of uncertainty. But there was none.

"I am. Look, its not like I have a whole lot keeping me tied down. No family any more, not much of an apartment, of a life...I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, please." Dian said imploringly, taking the fox's paw gently. "Life is hard, and we can't always solve our problems alone. We weren't meant to live as solitary beings, as hermits in a lonely world. Sometimes we just need...a hand to help us along. Someone to stand beside us, to hold us up."

"Why are you doing this?" Piper whispered, still searching those endlessly green eyes.

"Because...well, I'm a pretty shitty limo driver."Dian said, shrugging, bringing forth rippling laughter from the fox. "And...like I said Piper...I care. About you. I mean...I think I lo-" Dian said, but Piper stuck a paw over his muzzle to silence him.

"Don't say it." Piper said, smiling, shaking his head in disbelief. "Alright. I'll go with you, you crazy son of a bitch, you beautiful mad gods-damn bastard!" He said, yelping in happiness, springing up still naked, embracing the tall husky tightly, but the husky pushed him back to arms-length. "What is it?" Piper asked, confused.

"You smell awful." Dian said, looking the naked fox up and down, his fur mussed and stained, and the two of them burst into wild laughter.

Piper's feet seemed to barely touch the floor all day, springing joyfully from shower to bedroom, grinning madly as they left the hotel, their eyes meeting every few seconds, Piper's happiness mirrored on the face of the husky, the two of them stealing kisses every time they thought no-one was looking. Laughter burst forth from them at every chance, like steam escaping, Piper's mind racing, trying to remember the last time he had felt this happy, when last his joy had reached such Olympian heights, or if he had ever felt this happy.

All Piper had to do was pick up his things from the hotel, his clothes, his wallet, his things, then Dian would pick him up a few hours later, and they would be gone, escaping forever, disappearing into the night, into anonymity. The whole return drive was a joyous affair, Piper barely able to sit still in the front seat of the limo, forgoing the comfort of the rear to sit up front with Dian. At long last, he would be normal, be boring, be a nobody. Gods, he couldn't wait, to be clean, average, clear of this life. Maybe he would take his portfolio, bound in calfskin and gold, and burn the whole fucking thing, a symbolic act to begin his new life. All that celluloid would make a nice fuel, all those damned photos, the records of his wasted life making a merry fire, and he'd dance around it, howling his joy.

It was a late when they arrived back at the hotel, the two of them sharing a fiercely passionate kiss as a stiffly-uniformed doorman opened the door for them, their eyes locked in a longing exchange as Piper climbed out, the bracingly cold wind biting into his fur. Only a few hours...Dian had to sort a few things, and then he would pick him up...and in a few days, all this would be nothing but a memory, a chilly and filthy nightmare he could finally awake from.

His phone was off in his pocket, still and dead as he rode the elevator to the penthouse, Piper trying to ensure no-one would contact him before he made his escape. He entered his room and went straight to the bedroom, grabbing his carry-bag, stuffing his few clothes, his wallet and the various accoutrements of modern life within, breathing heavily, eyes bright with excitement.

He went to the kitchen next, throwing the bag onto the marble counter top, rummaging in the fridge for something to drink, something to cool his throat, maybe his nerves-

"Going somewhere?" A voice asked behind him, Piper jumping in shock, turning to see the confused face of his agent, Rainier. Piper had left the door to the penthouse open in his excitement...

"Yes." Piper said, stilling his nerves, meeting that horrible glance with a steady gaze, trying to contain the panic which threatened to grip his heart.

"Where?" Rainier pressed, his eyes narrowed and shining dangerously, but Piper didn't answer, instead pulling a slick glass bottle of expensive water from the fridge, putting it to his lips to try and calm his throat, try and find a second to think. "Good to see the swelling has gone down. How was the night?" Rainier growled.

"I'm leaving Rainier. I'm getting into a car, and driving away, somewhere where I'll never have to see you again. And you can't stop me." Piper said suddenly, wishing his voice sounded stronger, his tone shaking even in his own ears. Rainier simply nodded, surprising the fox.

"Ok. So...you're just going off into the sunset, huh kid? All by your lonesome? And how long do you think it'll be before you come crawling back, huh?" He asked, not succeeding in trying to hide the malice in his voice, the raspy shaking he always made when he was really furious.

"I'm not going alone." Piper replied, and a deep crease appeared above Rainier's dark eyes.

"Who..." He asked, then realisation dawning, like the slow, deadly sun of a nuclear dawn. "Oh, jesus fucking christ Piper, the limo driver? What the hell is wrong with you? What did he say to you? I'm getting his ass fired!" The otter snarled, grabbing for his mobile phone.

"He made me realise how sick I was. How much you've been using me. How much I don't need you, or any of this!" Piper yelled angrily.

"Oh kid, you're so fucked up half the time you'd believe anything anyone told you." Rainier sneered. "Look, I made you, I took care of you, you know why? No-one else cares. Your parents dumped you, society dumped you, even the streets were getting ready to dump you. How long do you think it'll be before your little boyfriend dumps you too?" Rainier snapped, pushing the mobile phone to his ear. "Yeah, Crown Limos? I need to talk to someone in charge..." Rainier was saying, but Piper could only hear the rushing of blood in his ears. His fist clenched, gripping the glass bottle in his hand, tight, a surge of fury overtaking his brain.

"It's not true!" Piper screamed, hurling the bottle at the otter's head. The agent ducked, the bottle exploding into fragments as it struck the wall, the otter dropping his phone and whirling to face the fox.

"What is your fucking problem?" He roared

"He cares about me!" Piper snarled. "Me! Not the model, the image, but me! And I...I..." Piper was yelling, but Rainier cut in front of him.

"Oh, what, I...I...I...love him!" Rainier sneered mockingly, lips curled in disgust. "Wake up kid, this isn't a fairytale. Not everyone has a happy ending, in fact, nearly no-one does. This, fame, fortune, this is as good as it gets." Piper was breathing heavily now, but silent, doubt creeping into his heart. Rainier walked around the counter top, until the marble separated him and the fox, his cold, cruel eyes fixed on the fox's. "There's a price to the good life, and you know it. I know it. But love? Come on kid, you know as good as anyone that its fake, no more real than a photograph, just ink on paper, zeroes and ones on a hard disk." Rainier spat, shaking his head.

"But...I just want to be free. I just want to leave." Piper said, shaking his head, tears in his eyes now. "I want to..."

"To love?" Rainier offered, still sneering. "I want to know where its written that we're all going to fall in love one day. Where does is say that? Where is the guarantee that there is that 'one special someone', that 'soul mate' out there somewhere in the world, that perfect match for the person you are? We're never all going to be rich, or famous, so why do we work all day in jobs we hate, holding out the vague hope that we might just get there one day?" Rainier said, his voice quiet now, but full of quiet menace and disgust. "Why bother with bullshit like that? There are so many myriad of beasts out there, we don't have to worry about fucking for continuation of the species, and just one look at the abyss of the universe should tell you that nothing you do will ever affect anything, never amount to more than a whisper in the wind, if even that."

"No, Rainier..." Piper pleaded, seeing the otter's paw disappear into his pocket, knowing what was coming, feeling his defences fail again.

"Life shouldn't be a struggle kid, it should be a bacchanal." Rainier said, ignoring Piper's pleas, a cruel smile curling around his lips. "You should enjoy yourself, run your life down to the fucking grit and ash, until there is nothing left, until you die." A packet of whitish powder landed on the table, something to tempt the fox.

"Why struggle." Rainier said quietly.

"Please, no..."

"Why bother."

"I don't want to anymore." Piper begged, his eyes full of tears, but he knew he couldn't stop himself. Even the thought of Dian, of freedom so close...it couldn't help him.

"Have fun, do what you want, fuck who you want, just don't pretend that any of it has any meaning." Rainier murmured, his eyes full of cold fire. Piper finally broke, tears falling down his cheeks, a shaking paw tearing at the baggy as defeated sobs choked his throat.

"Good." Rainier whispered, smiling thinly as he watched the fox form lines, watched his tears dash the marble. "Remember kid, I made you. I own you. You're nothing outside these doors. You're where you belong." He heard the inhaling of breath and smiled, closing his eyes, ruffling the fox's ears.

Piper did another line, another, feeling his shaking subside as the otter walked away from him, leaving a canister of pills on the counter top as well. His mind was racing, his thoughts merging, his eyes burning, his ears ringing, but he still heard a vague call from the otter as he left the suite.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, kiddo. Have fun" Came the mocking words of his master, but they had no meaning to the fox, the words melting into garbled, incomprehensible sounds. He scrabbled at the pill bottle, sniffing and drying his eyes, a couple of those pills disappearing into him, his body. Not that he cared any more.

Rainier had been right. He belonged here, in this world. He wasn't a real person, and without the constant meticulous attention of make-up artists, of stylists, agents, the winking eyes of all those cameras, then the alabaster statue, the image, frail and insubstantial as it was, the icon that was Piper, it would all cease to be. He wasn't real, he didn't exist, except on paper. Maybe he did once, but he died long ago.

Like a statue of Cleopatra or a photo of Monroe, he didn't exist any more, but he was still worshipped, as a symbol, an icon, an idea that caught the eyes and fantasies of so, so many millions. Sounds reared in Piper's arms as he stumbled about the penthouse, the sounds of clapping, or maybe photo bulbs clicking and flashing, and the roar of the crowd, that sound he made whenever he stepped out of a taxi onto a red carpet.

Then there was a cacophonous popping, as of billions of champagne corks, then the fizz of the golden liquid overflowing the bottlenecks, or maybe it was the blood boiling in the fox's ears. His temperature was sky-rocketing, his eyes rolling in their sockets, his breath ragged and gasping as he fell under the chemical spell of this demented narcotic fairy godmother.

And behind everything else, the was the slow, laborious and measured poundings, so loud they make the fox's teeth quake. The sound was like the beating of lead on copper, and was as tall as the colossus, towering into the sky above Piper's mind, their peaks beyond his perception and their bases wider than all of existence. Nothing was real, everything was fake.

Now he was on the balcony, reeling, half sobbing, half laughing, eyes wild, teeth gnashing madly. None of this was real, he realised through the fiery haze of the chemicals in his mind. This didn't even seem right. What kind of world was this? He didn't know when he'd last seen a woman, any female at all...in fact, how did life go on, because the only fucking that ever seemed to happen was between men!

The horrible enormity of his life, everything that was happening, the bizarre and cruel turn of his life, of course! It was as if some cruel creator was typing his fate on some celestial typewriter, turning him towards the worst and most horrid fates. Only by design could his existence be so tortured. He turned his eyes to the skies and saw the sky was green, and understood the poundings at last; giant letters, reversed, miles high, were appearing one-by-one, controlling the wretched happenings of his cursed life. The poundings, they were taps of each key on that celestial keyboard, and beyond the letters, the stars of the sky, Piper could see, with a cold realisation, they formed eyes, a nose, a face. Pale and grim, sickeningly vast and completely furless, Piper saw the face of the writer, his grisly visage the whole sky, the whole world...

Piper gasped for breath, shaking his head. It was just the drugs. He had to calm down...he had been worse than this before, he just had to ride it out. He was freaking out. Get inside. Lock the door. Sit down, try to stay calm. There was no noise, save his own frenzied breathing. It was just the drugs. There was no writer in the sky, no-one controlling his fate but Rainier...it was just the drugs. Lock in, stay calm...ride it out.

But no-matter what the fox told himself, he couldn't stop that endless pounding, the sound of keys foretelling his doom.

Click.

It was later, Piper had no idea how much so though. He was on the tail end though, emerging from one of those hellishly-introspective nightmares every heavy trip ended with. He was still quivering, but was mostly sane now, imagined noises and hallucinations left behind with the night. He was sitting on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chin, his eyes staring without intent out the windows and into the night. It was still dark, but dawn's light was peeking at the horizon now, beginning to turn the night into day.

The door opened, but it took Piper a few seconds to register that someone had entered, so lost he was. He looked up eventually to see the shocked face of Dian, whose eyes were roving over the suite, over the remains of the cocaine and the spilled pills, the mess of broken glass, the bloody pawprints, and the fox, his eyes sunken and dark, his lips red and raw and his shoulders quaking.

"What happened? Oh god, you cut your foot!" Dian exclaimed, and Piper suddenly registered the pain nagging his mind was from his foot, sticky with blood. He must have stepped on the glass and barely noticed it, for his bloody pawprints were tracked everywhere, and his blood was seeping still into the white suede couch he crouched on.

"I ran into Rainier." Piper croaked,his throat burning.

"He did this to you?" Dian exclaimed, glancing at the remnants of the drugs. "Come on, we have to get you out of here."

"No." Piper replied, returning his gaze to the breaking dawn.

"What?" Dian breathed, sounding horrified.

"Dian's right. I belong here. I'm not a person any more. I was once, but now...I'm just a picture of a picture of picture of something that used to be real." Piper said, barely making sense.

"You're fucked up Piper, you have to come with me." Dian pleaded, but the fox still shook his head.

"No, I can't. I'm sorry for causing you trouble Dian, but you'd better leave." Piper muttered.

"You really mean this." Dian said quietly, and Piper nodded.

"Here is where I exist. What I am. I can't escape it." He whispered, still not looking at the husky.

"If I leave now, I'm never coming back. I couldn't bear too, I'll just keep driving until I forget about you. You'll never see me again." Dian said, sounding crushed.

"Okay."

"Is that what you really want?" Dian asked one more time, and Piper finally broke away from the morningstar to look into those eyes, those perfect green eyes.

"I...Dian, if I leave here, I'm nothing. I'll be dead." Piper said, a note of sorrow, of pleading in his tone.

"Well then maybe you're better off dead." Dian said quietly, shaking his head. Piper opened his mouth, looked like he was going to speak, but he didn't, he just let his jaw hang limply. Dian couldn't bear to look at him for another second, so he turned on his heel and left the fox in his room, walking quickly so Piper couldn't see his tears.

Click...

Dian sighed slightly, his brow furrowed behind his sunglasses, the rising sun reflecting off them as he sped down the highway. The gearbox felt a little different under his paw, this car a lot different to the limousine he had grown used to driving lately. He barely even noticed that though, his mind niggled and pulled at by something else. He was leaving everything behind him, forgetting everything and just heading for the promise of the horizon. He had made a stupid mistake, and it was one he would not be able to take back.

Although, he couldn't really call what he did a mistake though, could he?

"You alright?" Piper said from the passenger seat, and as Dian cast a look sideways at the snow-white fox all worries melted away. Sure, he had left his job without saying a word, sold his limousine, his apartment and everything he couldn't pack into a suitcase, then headed off down the road with a beast he hardly knew, but as he looked into Piper's flawless, glacier-blue eyes he knew he had made the right choice. A stupid choice, undoubtedly, but sometimes the stupid choices are the right ones.

"Of course I am, I have you don't I?" He replied. Piper didn't say anything, he just smiled one of his million-dollar smiles, a smile that adorned magazines and billboards across the planet, and let his pure white paw fall gently on to Dian's own.

'Well then maybe you're better off dead.' The husky had said a few nights before, and walked out of Piper's hotel room. He had been halfway down the hall when he had stopped, and gone to turn back, but before he could he felt a paw touch gently on his shoulder. He had turned just in time to see Piper lean in and kiss him gently, his divine lips brushing against the crude slabs that Dian called his own. When he had pulled apart, Dian had seen the fox's eyes shining and sparkling with tears, his smile warm and hopeful, a smile like nothing the magazines had ever seen.

'Maybe you're right.' He'd whispered, and in that moment Dian had understood, like a lightning bolt from above, what they had to do.

And here they were, driving down the highway, endless fields on either side of them, the sun rising to greet them as they went. Yes, their lives were over; now they just had to create a new one, together. Sure, there would be a lot of pissed people, but they would get over it. They would find a new star, a new beauty to use, to abuse, a new product to sell. They always seemed to. Piper had walked out on Rainier two days ago now, and his phone had been ringing a lot. He ended up just throwing it in a storm drain, sick of it's vibrations. Not like he needed it now anyway.

Piper sighed happily, glancing at Dian as he focused on the road, feeling happier than he could ever remember feeling, the road open ahead of him as the city got further and further away behind him. For once, his heart was light, his head was clear, and the smile on his face was true, was solid, was real.

They had no destination, no purpose but to be together, but that was okay. Piper had what was left of his money, and Dian had a little too; they would be fine, as long as they had each other. They would travel until the road ran out for them, until they found somewhere they knew was far enough away, somewhere they could find a bit of peace.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the vault of the sky already brilliant enough to match Piper's eyes, but the only beautiful thing the two of them saw was each other, their sight oblivious to anything else on that road.

They didn't even notice the billboard by the side of the road, with the couple of workers posting something over an old sign, hard at work even at this early hour. The billboard they were sticking up was nothing special, but the one that was being covered, that one caught the eye, drew one's attention.

It was a picture of an arctic fox, his thick, silky fur as pure as driven snow, his lithe form and slender limbs entirely unclad, only the very tip of his fat, luxurious tail hiding his maleness. His smile was smoldering and inviting, and just the very tip of his pure-white fangs were peeking below his lips. That wasn't the most noticeable thing though, no.

The thing that caught the eye, captivated the viewer the most, was the startlingly blue eyes that stared from the fox's face, stared with both hunger and fire. They were flawless, those eyes, perfect sky-blue orbs that wouldn't let go of your gaze after you'd stared into them. They were absolutely beautiful, and you knew in an instant that those eyes, that face, that body, that fox could sell anything, anything at all.

It was too bad then that neither Piper nor Dian noticed the billboard as they drove past, both of them too caught up in each other to notice anything. And as they continued on into the sunrise, the fox's face on the billboard was covered up with something else, something new, and it was gone forever. The car continued on, and so did the love between that fox and that husky, but those eyes, that body, that image, it was gone.

Oh well.

Beauty is overrated anyway.

Click.

Click.

Whirrr...

Cut it.

Print it.

Alright people, that's a wrap.