FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

"State your business." Gruff, curt, female but only just. Not the voice of a woman Sovy wanted to meet face to face.

"Just the usual sundries," said Sovy. "Battle rifles with mysteriously-wiped ID chips and filed-off serials, an assortment of hallucinogenic herbs from small farms across the system and maybe, just maybe, a few young ladies offered up for immediate relocation." He let a beat pass and then he asked, "Am I clear to dock?"

Sovy flinched at a burst of static that had to be intentional. The voice then replied, "Bay three. Come to the conning tower for your compensation."

It was easiest to dock automatically and Sovy did just that. Sixteen hours of consciousness had his nerves shot and he wasn't moving enough drugs to skim some amphetamines or other uppers off the top. Another complication of being awake for such a long time was that Sovy was becoming incredibly horny. It was a tic he didn't quite understand but the fact that he was docking with a well-known pleasure barge had his tail swishing and his penis stirring already.

While his ugly little freighter gracelessly sidled up to the pleasure barge, Sovy started to unfasten the containers. He checked on his precious cargo: A few girls, all uncomfortably young, but Sovy had given up his morality years ago. They were still unconscious and he closed the slat offering a view into their cell. Out of sight and out of mind.

Goons unloaded the containers and Sovy went along with them into the barge's cargo bay and from there he made it to public face of the ship. Sovy wanted to think of it as a tactless love nest full of orgies and whorehouse trappings, yet it was tastefully decorated. Adolescent trees and innumerable flowers grew in gardens between the walkways and around the small plaza that was the heart of the public area. Sovy walked off onto one of the arteries branching from it, moving then along a path under wraparound windows giving a filtered view of the space outside. It was a view Sovy had seen so many times through the grubby windows on his freighter or through the tactical display on his fighter. This brought back some of the magic of space.

Vista aside, Sovy was exhausted. He yawned wide and popped his jaws. As he stretched and splayed, he cut an imposing figure. Half dragon, half coyote, all heartless. He was not terribly tall nor built but his teeth were great and his claws on both paws and feet alike were wickedly sharp and black. He dressed his body in piecemeal military attire acquired and looted in countless ways. Not all of the stab and bullet holes in the outfit corresponded to his own scars.

Along the winding path went Sovy, passing subtle whores he could have had with a snap of his fingers. Sovy had his eyes on the conning tower toward the rear of the vessel, set far back from the barge's public spaces. The goons at the doors did nothing to stop him after a cursory glance and one said into his lapel, "Sovy is here, sir." That put a smirk on the dragon's face. He liked to be heralded.

Sovy was led into the conning tower like royalty. Here was the self-indulgent tackiness Sovy had been expecting. Everything except the floor was gilded. Commissioned portraits of a leering bear fellow with a scar through his thick black jowls dominated every passage making it obvious who was in control. Sovy hadn't realized it, but the armed goons were tracking his progress. Each was ready to blast a fist-sized hole through Sovy's torso if he decided it was time for a five-finger discount on any of the countless baubles and other shiny crap on display.

Sovy passed by the door to the helm proper. "I'm looking for," the dragon-mix paused, realizing he didn't remember his employer's name. "Scarface here," said Sovy, fingering one of the omnipresent paintings.

"Mister Becket is through those doors," one goon said.

The other goon in the brain trust added, "Show respect."

Yeah, respect, Sovy said. He barely resisted the urge for a nice jacking-off gesture.

Through Becket's doors, Sovy entered a world of pain for his eyes. If the conning tower had been tacky, Becket's office itself redefined the word. It was gaudy in ways Sovy couldn't comprehend. The glimmer of light on gold and silver and gems innumerable precluded any kind of vision but a squint. Sovy lamented leaving his welding mask in his freighter.

Behind the desk sat the immensely obese Becket in a suit which did everything it could not to split at the seams. Becket sat in an antigravity chair - the distant ancestor of which was the swiveling office chair. Even at maximum repulsion, it nearly touched the floor.

"There's my newest good-for-nothing go-getter," Becket chuckled in a voice vaguely slurred by a stroke years ago. As Sovy neared the desk, the bear held out a plump cigar. "Smoke?"

"Don't mind if I do," said Sovy mildly. He allowed Becket to light him up with an antique Zippo and he had a seat opposite the bear's oak desk. "I'm surprised something like that still works these days," Sovy mused, talking around the cigar.

"You and me both, dumb fuckin' luck," Becket grunted before he lit up for himself. "So what's the usual fare here? Some guns, some crack and smack and other goodies, and a few girls? Twenty grand? Thirty? Fifty?" Becket rambled on.

"I'd call fifty fair if I hadn't had to pay some bribes," Sovy shrugged.

"Well, hey, you got the shit done and that's all I care about, what's a pittance more?" Becket grinned. "I'll tack on another ten. Call it a tip, too, for uh," the bear waved his cigar around, "prompt service."

"Actually, keep your tip," Sovy grinned with a lash of his tail. "How's about you give me a room to snooze in for a couple days and a hole to fuck?"

The bear chuckled mildly and turned himself away. He glanced out one of the windows between his loot and tried to look contemplative. Sovy could only fixate on the bear's fat rolls and the ugly scar on his snout. "Could just spend some of that money back here again, couldn't you? Room and whatever you want's comped - the talent, they take credit," he sniggered.

"I don't want any old talent," Sovy said, his grin growing wider. "I want something special. I know you got slaves here. I want something I can sink my teeth into."

A long pause. The bear exhaled through his nose and then shambled his way through a coughing fit. "Mmkay, tell me one thing. You mind it if they're, uh, a little fussy? Defiant?"

"Any hole's a goal, 'specially if it's a feisty one," Sovy said with a lazy smirk.

"I got this new harem boy here - boys are okay with you, yeah? Everybody likes boys." Sovy didn't protest. He sat in rapt attention. "Exotic. Fuckin' beautiful. Doesn't do a damn thing you tell him. Get your rocks off, have your fun, do whatever gets you off short of killing the little shit. We can fix broken bones and sew shit back on."

Sovy stood up, took one last puff and ground his cigar out in the ashtray. "I'll sleep on it. Have him dropped off at my room, mister Becket."

--2

It ran counter-intuitive to soon fucking something senseless, but Sovy abused himself in the shower and then took his time getting clean. Weeks of grime rinsed off and blackened the water but something intangible washed away too: Stress. It was finally time to relax. No more looking at the scanners for pirates or, even worse, coalition ships. With illegal and inhumane weapons ready, a pleasure barge was the last vessel to assault.

Out of the bathroom and into his cabin went Sovy with a heavy, plush robe hanging on his lithe body, making him look much thicker than he really was. He cherished the softness and the warmth, all of it a far cry from his cold freighter and its limited amenities. There was so much to do, so many luxuries available to him, and all was well-earned and comped. He settled for a drink from the minibar and by then he was dry. He slept nude on top of the sheets.

Some seven hours later, a hail in the room woke Sovy with its gentle chime. He yawned and smacked his lips, then he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. To retain some modesty, Sovy slipped the robe back on and keyed the door to open. There was one of Becket's enormous goons with a slender fox boy in his grip. The boy had on a leather muzzle, a blindfold over his eyes, and cuffs around his wrists behind his back. It pleased Sovy to see that Becket and his men used good old physical restraints on their merchandise.

"You requested this?" the goon asked.

"I did indeed," Sovy purred in supreme interest. The fox was nude save for his restraints. Clothes were a privilege slaves didn't get - a common tactic to break them, so Sovy knew. He pulled the boy inside and Becket's thug walked off without a second thought. When the door whispered shut, the boy began to snarl and thrash in his bonds.

"Who are you trying to fool here?" Sovy huffed, reaching for the blindfold, but he halted to shuck the bath robe off first. Only then did he give the boy back his vision, and with it he sized Sovy up and seemed to not be impressed with what he saw.

It wasn't mutual. Sovy was enamored by what he saw. Slim twink lines, a round bubble butt, an inoffensive little penis and long, silky hair. "Aren't you a girly thing," the dragon-mix sighed with a smile. "This is gonna be fun one way or another," he said, shoving the boy off balance and onto the bed. Falling back on combat readiness whether he meant to or not, Sovy dropped on the boy and pinned him with his weight. He unfastened the muzzle carefully and, to be expected, the boy spat at him. Sovy responded with a swift backhand and his young prize made a sudden and startled noise as his head whipped to the side.

"What?" Sovy grinned. "Didn't see that coming, huh? This is gonna be rough for you if that's how you are."

"Go to hell," the boy hissed.

"Keep it up and you can save a seat for me there," Sovy said, leering dangerously at the boy.

"My family is gonna find me," said the slave in a voice that had lost its conviction weeks ago. "They know who abducted me, and you're gonna fucking regret this!"

Where could Sovy begin? How many taut young things had he relocated to pleasure barges and slave colonies? How often did they die in their bondage? "You got no chance if you don't shape up," Sovy chuckled. He ground his nude body against the twink's, frotting crotch to crotch but only because they aligned like so. "Tell me your name. Tell me where you're from."

As queer as it was, the boy was getting hard. Sovy didn't think too much of it. "Why should I tell you anything? What do you care?" the slave huffed.

"I guess in a broad sense I don't care," Sovy said with a toothy smile, "but it's more interesting than coming up with my own little story for you." A beat. "Might even make me sympathize with you and be a little gentler."

That loosened up the boy's tongue. "My name is Desmond," he said quietly, "and I'm from a colony back on Earth."

"Earth, huh," Sovy grunted. Desolate shithole, long since abandoned for the other colonies. "So your family lives on the ghetto planet but they're gonna track you down and save you," the dragon-mix grinned.

"I'll fucking kill you," Desmond snapped.

Sovy slapped a heavy down on the boy's snout, reddening flesh and stinging his own palm with the strike. In the same blow he wrapped his fingers around Desmond's muzzle and wagged his head side to side. "Temper, temper," Sovy deadpanned. Down below, the dark flesh of his knotted cock bared against Desmond's half-stiff penis and it dwarfed what the twink was packing. Still keeping a tight grip and peering down into those wet green eyes, Sovy hissed, "You want me to ease up? Let's start with some respect." He thrust Desmond's head back into the bed and yanked back his paw to avoid a spiteful bite.

Hate boiled in Desmond's eyes. He refused to say a word to Sovy until the drake reared back to backhand him again. "Don't fucking hit me!" he shrieked, and so Sovy did exactly that right across the snout. It was then that Desmond began to sob. Sovy tenderized his cheeks with a few smacks - backhanding one side, open-palming the other, whipping his head back and forth until his calloused paw was too sore to continue.

As he shook off the pain, Sovy savored the way the prissy thing shuddered and sobbed. How awful he was, he thought, to stave off his conscience when transporting slaves, yet here he was gleefully abusing an indentured fuckthing. Just maybe his psychological evaluation for that coalition-sponsored courier job was accurate, but Sovy decided as he often did that it was best to enjoy the moment. Screaming and death threats were far from sexy even for an abusive smuggler and slave trafficker, so Sovy put the muzzle back on Desmond's snout. The boy fought and fussed and initially refused to even keep his muzzle shut for it but Sovy negotiated it on and fastened it down so tightly that the boy's teeth ground together.

"Hurts, right? Fucking hurts, doesn't it?" Sovy said with a mad grin. His paws closed around the twink's ears and he gave them a tweak and a twist. The boy made a sad little noise and Sovy shoved him back again. "I gave you every chance for this to go over easy, you have nobody to blame but yourself."

Sovy could have stared into those crying, smoldering eyes forever but his cock was stiff and his interests were blunt. He climbed off of the boy and rolled him onto his belly. Minding the handcuffed paws, Sovy leaned over his prize and took hold of the foxcoon's ass cheeks. That they were so plush and round was enough to get Sovy's tail swishing and his teeth showing. He praised himself for getting a harem boy instead of a common whore. The latter were always strung-out and malnourished - bony asses, shriveled tits, dirty bodies. Even defiant and unbroken as he was, Desmond was a cut above the rest.

"Rrr, nice fat ass," Sovy grunted under his breath. He nuzzled into the cheeks, nibbled near where the curves met and slid one paw down along a flawless thigh. It occurred to him now that Desmond was quiet save for residual sniffles and Sovy appreciated the peace. With a lurid little rumble, he tweaked his own shaft's knot and a bead of pre squirted from the tip.

"Moan for me, boytoy," hissed the dragon-mix as his clawed paws gripped Desmond's rump cheeks and parted them wide. Hiding between them and surrounded by pillowy fluff was a perfect pink asshole. It was hard to tell if the slave had ever been penetrated, but certainly Desmond looked the type to enjoy an insertion. First things first, he dragged his doggishly slobbery tongue across Desmond's pucker and the pleasure left the boy clenching and shuddering. Gone were the sniffles. Sovy didn't notice, but Desmond's toes curled with each lap.

Rimming Desmond had more to do with Sovy's lurid wantings than pleasuring or even lubricating the boy. Saliva made for a terrible lubricant but rimming - to a creature with a dependence on the scent and flavor of musk for arousal - was among the most gratifying ways he could have had the slave. He found himself feeding off of Desmond's obvious pleasure and the subtle scent of the boy was a treat to savor. In fact, Sovy likened slobbering Desmond's anal entrance to licking a piece of candy: A sweet, pink little treat.

The dragon hybrid unhanded Desmond's cheeks and growled as their chubby warmth wedged his snout in. All he tasted and smelled then was the twink and that left his shaft aching against the bed, a trait Desmond shared.

By the time Sovy pulled back, Desmond was compliant if not in the manner Becket had intended. Softened up by the rimming himself, Sovy eased Desmond onto his back again as he reached for the muzzle. "I'm going to give you a chance here and get you out of all this bondage shit," he said sternly as he worked the buckle. "Needless to say, act up again, and I'll toss you out in the fucking void. Have we got an agreement here?"

Just then Sovy got the muzzle off, and that was also when Desmond began to fearfully sob. In a rare moment of compassion, Sovy petted his snout and shushed him. "Just behave, keep being a good little fuckboy, and you're gonna be fine," he cooed. He even capped it off with a kiss on the nose. Then he rolled Desmond over again and he undid the cuffs. Though they required a key, the hole was so wallowed by picking attempts that Sovy was able to pop them off with a claw. He mentally praised himself for his versatile claws as he tossed the cuffs away. They had barely stopped clattering on the floor when Sovy lunged over Desmond and pulled him up to his all-fours.

"Oh, god," Desmond squeaked. He could feel Sovy probing that dark flesh up between his ass cheeks. The heat and lewdness of it sent shivers up his spine.

"Surprised anybody still says that anymore... You're definitely from Earth," the dragon sniggered. Resting back on his knees, he gripped his impressive piece of male flesh and guided it to the bullseye between Desmond's ass cheeks. The boy tensed and Sovy rubbed the small of his back. "Ready or not, fox, I'm going in," he warned, and he made good on that threat.

Pointed at the tip and knotted at the base, Sovy's shaft easily entered Desmond and it left the slave groaning. Sovy himself cooed as velvet anal flesh gripped his penis, the feeling encouraging him to drive it in further and harder. As the middle inches passed Desmond's entrance, Sovy gripped his hips in both paws and he nipped at the swaying brush that was Desmond's tail.

"This isn't your first time, is it?" Sovy murmured.

"No, it isn't," Desmond sighed, "but it's been a while..."

"I can feel that," said the smuggler. His knot pressed flush to Desmond's pucker. For the time being, what drool he had put there was doing the trick. Sovy didn't care if things became painful for the boy later on. Easing back but taking it slow, Sovy mused to Desmond, "Are you gonna be a fussy bitch for Becket after I'm done here?"

"What's that greasy fat fuck got to do with this?" Desmond snapped. Sovy consequently bucked in hard and smacked his knot against the boy's asshole. Desmond tried to fight back a shriek, and instead he grunted and put his head down.

"That greasy fat fuck, as I'm sure he'll be glad to know you think of him, put me up to this," Sovy said with a wicked grin. Somehow he could feel the color and the fight draining out of the slave. "I asked him for a hole to fuck after I brought him some other slaves and some guns - and you know what he told me?" Another hard buck, and this time Desmond squealed from it. "Fuck yeah, scream! Cry over it," Sovy hissed. "Fuck, what was I saying...?"

"I fucking hate you!" Desmond snarled.

"I bet you do," Sovy said with a roll of his eyes. "And now I remember. Becket told me I could do whatever I wanted to you. I honestly might have even imagined that he expected results - maybe he just wanted me to rape you until you can't sit and beat you 'till your fuckin' eyes swell shut!"

The foxcoon tried to pull away from Sovy but the mixed dragon was nowhere near done. He hadn't even tried to knot Desmond yet. With a snarl fitting his draconian side, he slammed his fists down on the boy's shoulders and sent him winded to the bed. Lanky and limber though he was, Sovy was a terror when enthralled. He pressed his elbows into Desmond's shoulder blades and ground down until the fox screamed. It didn't take long.

"Just imagine when he gets his paws on you again! I bet he's gonna have you under that fucking desk trying to find his cock under a fat roll," Sovy hissed almost unintelligibly. "Maybe he can't get on you to fuck your crybaby ass, but I fuckin' can! You're mine!" He constantly and sloppily punctuated his syllables with rough thrusts bordering on knotfucking. Desmond's pucker was swollen and raw from the abuse.

Desmond's screaming never stopped. Just like Sovy losing his mind in the sex, Desmond lost his voice in the inarticulate wailing. All that Sovy picked up was, "Oh god, oh god, stop, please!"

Filling Sovy's head with hormones and notions of breeding was his impending orgasm. It was absolutely imperative he bury the bone and that entailed a good, hard knotting. His tail lashed wildly and his breathing was reduced to violent snatches for breath which often blew spittle across the boy's neck. His long ears were splayed down flat and his eyes were mere slits.

Most animalistic of all was Sovy's technique - or his lack thereof. He was unapologetic in his savage abuse of the twink's asshole and every collision of his knot to Desmond's asshole was a threat of the end goal. His elbows slipped off of Desmond's shoulder blades, agonizingly rolling the boy's flesh over his bones which inspired another squeal. He came to lie against the foxcoon, pinning him against the bed under his hard, hot body. He terrorized Desmond's pert ears with hisses and snarls, all heartfelt.

Although Desmond's shrieking was grating, Sovy was much too far-gone to bother with the muzzle again. He smashed his knot against the foxcoon's asshole again and again until he got the results he was after: It popped inside and the seed was ready to be planted. His body convulsed against Desmond's as his cock throbbed and spat its gooey ropes deep into that brutalized ass. When the orgasm started to subside, so did Sovy's feral mannerisms.

"That's what it fucking needed," Sovy chuckled. Desmond was huffing quietly beneath him. "Anything to say? Got any more screams in those lungs?"

"Fuck off," Desmond loathsomely rasped to Sovy. It made the dragon grin big and wide.

"There we go, atta boy," he sniggered. Often when Sovy got laid, he liked to leave his knot where it was. Desmond hadn't earned such a gentle exit and the dragon braced his paws on the boy's shoulders again. He pulled back again and again, grunting in exertion as he struggled to free his knot of the twink. Though the asshole was of course an exit, Desmond's anal cavity had quite a grip on the smuggler's knot. He screamed and fussed and bit the sheets as Sovy tugged at his knot and he shrieked like a banshee when it did at last pop free.

As Desmond sobbed and whined, Sovy parted his ass cheeks to peruse the damage. A swollen, gaped asshole winked at him for his troubles. He sneered at the sight and clapped Desmond's cheeks together. "Gonna be sleeping on your belly for a while."

Up and off the bed, Sovy wiped off his cock and dressed in his gear again. To his surprise, Desmond rolled over on the bed and lay panting on his back. "Are you leaving finally?" the slave huffed.

"Tch, how ungrateful," Sovy smirked. With his belt not yet clasped, he yanked it out of its loops in a quickdraw and crashed it down across Desmond's gut. The strike left his sour fuckthing doubled-over and yowling, thus offering his unmarred back to the drake. With such a target offered up, one good smack deserved another. Sovy doubled the belt over for this one. Standing at the edge of the bed, he smashed the leather down into Desmond's shoulder. A cry as sharp as a razor erupted from Desmond's mouth and he flinched away from Sovy and onto his belly. Still well in the smuggler's range, Desmond received one more vicious whip across his ass cheeks so harsh that the flesh would soon blister. His cry resonated in the spacious cabin.

While the boy shivered and sobbed, Sovy laced up his belt and buckled it tight. "Fuck you, you little whore," he dangerously growled. "I'll be back to straighten you out. I find out you tried to leave, I'm breaking your legs." Sovy left Desmond weeping and curled up in the fetal position.

--3

Upon his return to Becket's office, Sovy saw a scene as surreal as it was depraved. It was exactly the kind of reason he loved and hated working for Becket's deviant type. There on the bear's desk which had been cleared for the occasion was a slave girl of remarkable taming compared to a hardheaded thing like Desmond. Laid across her nude, smooth gecko body was an assortment of seafood items which Becket lapped off of her. Every time he slurped, his floppy jowls dragged across her body with his tongue.

"Mister Sovy," Becket grinned. Wasabi was smeared on his cheek. "Care for a bite?"

Sovy perused the girl. She was a fine piece, no doubt, and the food looked and smelled delectable even over the ambient stench of sweat and cigar smoke. The sheen of the bear's drool on her body put Sovy off and he shook his head. "Seafood just goes right through me," he smiled.

"Your loss," shrugged Becket, and he slurped a few more items off of his girl. Still chewing, he asked Sovy, "How did you like the boy? Still a little bastard?"

"He won't be walking straight for a while," Sovy winked. "I left him boo-hooing his eyes out, but I figure he's still gonna be a cocksucker when I get back. Odds are he'll try to bludgeon me. That or use my sidearm on me, I left it there just to tempt him."

Becket gave him a wry smile. "Biometrics?"

Sovy smirked back. "Yeah. He's in for a surprise if he pulls the trigger."

"Clever, clever!" Becket boisterously laughed. "Hey, you're sure you don't want any of this? Sushi tastes best off a cunt. Nice mix of fish flavors."

The dragon barely avoided rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna have to pass on that, but maybe I'll get a bite to eat," he said as he pushed himself out of the chair, "after I get done putting the fear in Desmond again. And that's part of why I'm back in here."

"Go on," Becket mused. His conversation didn't slow his eating.

"Since a bitchy thing like him's not much use to you and it gets pretty lonely moving slaves around when I gotta keep 'em isolated, how about I borrow the little shit for a few months? Just until you have me move some bodies or some hardware again."

The bear licked his jowls and hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure."

"Look at it like this, mister Becket," Sovy said charmingly. "I'm cruel, sure, but there's only so much I can do in a weekend. Now, you give me a few months alone with that boy when his choices are to suffer or fling himself out of an airlock, and I can fucking guarantee that he's gonna come back with his tail between his legs."

All through Sovy's spiel, Becket's grin grew wider and wider, showing smoke-stained teeth. "All right, all right, you got me... I'm too old for that raping business anyway, I just want fuckthings that do what they're told. Take him, do what you want. If he gets to be too much of a problem and he happens to disappear..." The bear shrugged. "Whoops. Plenty of other boys out there."

Sovy shook Becket's massive, sweaty paw and expertly hid his revulsion. "Pleasure doing business. Enjoy your meal," he smirked.

"Oh, you bet," Becket smirked back. Just as Sovy left, the bear was licking crotchward on the gecko.

--4

To enter his rented cabin and see the chromed barrel of his gun gleaming at him just about made Sovy laugh. "All right, then! The little slave's got some balls now, huh?"

"I'll fucking kill you!" Desmond snapped in a high, hysterical voice. "I swear!"

Sovy held his arms wide like a scarecrow. He puffed out his chest and sneered. "Go for it. That's an outlawed pistol, basically throws a fucking shotgun slug. You'll blow a hole right through me. Come on, tough guy."

Desmond grimaced and trembled. "I'll do it, I'll fucking do it!"

The dragon rolled his eyes. Come o-o-on, go for it. I need a show. He started towards Desmond, never losing that grin. His advancement was all it took: Desmond squeezed the trigger and some five-hundred-thousand volts tore through his body, turning him into a convulsing and blubbering wreck on the floor. He pissed himself and the smell of scorched fur wafted through the room.

Sovy snatched up his gun and spun it with a cowboy flair. "Biometric trigger," he tutted. "And I've got another surprise for you, an even better one than getting your stupid ass fried."

Desmond could barely comprehend what had just happened, let alone what the drake was saying. By the time Sovy had gotten him hosed off, cuffed, and loaded naked into his freighter, however, Desmond was lucid again, if not still sore from every muscle in his body convulsing.

"Where are we going, what's happening?" he blurted, peering out of a crusty porthole on the freighter's cockpit.

Nearby was Sovy, smoking a cigarette and overseeing the detachment from the barge. He said to his cuffed, coon-masked plaything with an aside glance, "Becket said you were mine for the next few months." As Desmond blanched, Sovy cracked a wide grin. "If you thought having my knot up your shit chute just once was bad, you're gonna have one hell of a rough time, boy."