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Drying Clothes, Emptying Mind For Zsisron By Draconicon

Peter groaned as he pulled himself out of the muck, watching as the airboat sped off further into the swamp. The monkey didn't even bother trying to call out; it was already too late, and with all the noise going on, he doubted anyone would have heard him, even if he was standing right beside them.

He glared anyway, before looking around for something to guide him out. The ground was mucky, but it supported his shoes alright...so far. He had little doubt that there'd be some shoe-sucking mud somewhere further in, but if he was lucky, he might be able to make it.

Checking his pockets, he quickly eliminated his cell phone as something that might help him. Even if it had lived through the dunking he'd taken - and it hadn't - there was no signal out here. His wallet had fallen out, and he would imagine there were several thousand dollars floating through the currents by now, as well as a number of condoms. He grumbled, his tail swishing behind him as he looked up again.

Scanning the horizon, eventually he spotted a small line of smoke rising out of the greenery.

"Well, either it's a forest fire, or someone else lives out here. Either way, it'll be warmer than here."

The monkey set off, and promptly fell on his face.

"I knew it, I knew it. Shoe sucking mud..."

It took him four tries to get his shoe out, and when he lost it again, he gave up. Better to walk along and make some distance than keep trying to get his shoes free. After all, he could always buy more. Peter grumbled at the feeling of the muck slipping between his toes, though; he felt like it was just getting him filthy, even if his pants were still high enough up to keep from getting stained.

Four hours since he'd started walking, he finally rounded a bend and found the source of the smoke. It was a little fire, no larger than a campfire, outside of a large, moss-covered tree. It was huge, the trunk so wide that the monkey was sure that the airboat could have fit inside it. And...was there someone living there?

Peter stared as the tree trunk opened, and a rat with painted stripes around his chest and arms stepped out. He looked like a jungle savage, dressed in nothing more than a loincloth, yet surprisingly well groomed. The monkey watched, feeling his clothes dripping all around him, as the rat put a few more logs on the fire.

It wasn't until the rat looked him right in the eye that Peter knew that he'd been noticed.

"Hello? I need some help!"

He tried to put some of the authority of his usual business dealings in his voice, but he knew that it hadn't worked. Not by the look of that smile on the rat's face. Nevertheless, the rodent waved him over, and Peter quickly jumped across the swamp.

As he landed on the rat's little island, he almost slammed down into the mud again, but the rat caught him by the arm and saved him. Nodding his thanks, he looked around.

"I, I don't suppose that you have a phone?"

"I'm sorry, my friend, but I do not."

The rat's accent - nearly French, but not quite - surprised him. It was far more civilized sounding than he expected to find out here in the marshes.

"Then, how do you -"

"I live here, I'm afraid. My name is Pierre, and this is my home. And you?"

"Peter. And this is most definitely not my home."

"Hmm hmmm, I can see that."

The rat's smile was genteel and kind, and the monkey couldn't help but smile just a bit in return. He still wanted to leave, but...at least he had someone civil around now. Better than the bugs and the beasts for company.

Pierre guided him over to the fire and sat him down. The heat felt enormously pleasant, and the monkey extended his limbs towards it, warming his muddy feet and his cold hands.

"Thank you. I can't tell you how good this feels."

"Well, you have been walking in soaking clothes this whole time. I imagine that you would feel much better with them -"

"Don't even finish that sentence. I don't go naked anywhere. Least of all out here."

"Hmm hmm, that's perfectly all right. You do as you need to do. But please, enjoy the fire."

The rat stood up and left him to his own devices, and Peter had every intention of doing just that. The fire was so warm, and it certainly was helping him relax after the long walk through the swamp. How people found it relaxing to live out here, he didn't know. Why, there wasn't so much as the benefits of a phone or some good food.

He began listing all the things wrong with the swamp in his head, and he completely missed Pierre coming back with another log for the fire. He jumped at the sudden burst of embers, but the rat only chuckled, shaking his head.

"So afraid? Please, relax. It's merely to keep it going."

Peter slowly sat down again, shaking his head as he looked back to the fire. It was...different. The new log was different shaped to the rest, and it was putting off a slightly darker smoke. Still, it was warm, so he tried to ignore it, looking into the fire as he imagined being back at home in front of a real fireplace.

Soon, the smoke that was pouring off of the fire dissipated, or at least, he got used to it. His eyes started to droop as he stared into the crackling flames, watching as they danced over the wood. The heat seemed more comfortable than ever, and as he took another breath, he swore that the fire seemed to be a bit different in shape. Like he'd seen something in it.

He leaned forward, slumping towards it with his arms wrapped around his legs. His mouth hung open as it danced before him, and he gradually realized that there was a voice whispering in his ear.

"Such a beautiful fire, isn't it? The way that it dances back and forth, the way that it sways in front of your eyes. It warms you, comforts you. It makes you feel safe, it makes you feel warm. So why not look at it? Why not keep staring at it, and keep feeling better and better with the fire?"

He'd never thought of it that way, but why not? The fire made him feel very good, and he couldn't imagine feeling better. But if there was a way to feel better still, he'd love to have it. So he leaned forward more, staring into the depths of the fire as the voice continued.

"Such a good boy, feeling so warm from the fire. It feels so good to listen to the hiss and crackle and pop of the fire, just like it feels good to listen to me. The soft roar of the fire sooths you, and so do I. The way it warms the wood and warms your fur makes you feel safe, and so does the sound of my voice. All part of the same feeling. The fire and me, me and the fire. All part of the same thing."

Peter nodded slowly, smiling to himself. The words were really very nice, and they were helping him feel good. He tilted his head to the side, trying to hear it more as the fire burned through the wood, his fur feeling so soft and warm.

"Yes, that's it. Just listen and smile, smile and listen. The fire is making it all so much better. But you're still not feeling everything, are you? All those wet clothes, they're the weight of the world, aren't they? Holding you down, keeping you from feeling all that heat."

He groaned, reaching up slowly with a trembling hand. He could barely squeeze at one of the buttons, but he knew that the voice had it right. The clothes were so wet. Why was he still wearing them? He could catch his death in such soaked garments. He fumbled for a button, shaking.

Then a more slender finger stopped him, tapping the button.

"Don't worry. It's so easy to lose your clothes. Just let me help you. Me and the fire, the fire and me. You can trust us both, to make you feel better. Don't you trust us? Don't you want to lose your clothes?"

He did, he did very much. The monkey nodded, and the slender fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. Going limp, he felt the cloth slide off, and he let out a deep sigh as he felt so much weight come off of his mind. Concerns and worries faded away, and he even giggled a little bit to himself.

"Yes, so good, so good to be out of your shirt. Your clothes make you feel so restrained, so cold, but when they come off, you feel warm, you feel happy. Don't you want to let more of it go? Don't you want to feel even better?"

He already felt so good, but the voice promised that it would get even better. He giggled, the monkey curling his toes near the fire as he felt something else stirring. Would that get better, he wondered? The voice promised, the fire delivered, and he nodded.

Those same fingers darted over his belt and his pants, and he felt them slowly slide down. With every inch, he could feel his body getting more and more relaxed, more and more comfortable, except for one.

Sticking out from between his legs was one massive source of tension, one hard, throbbing piece of excitement. With every bit of clothes he lost, with every part of him more exposed to the fire, it got harder and harder. It twitched and bounced, even dripping a little bit onto the muddy ground as he stared.

Peter gasped as his clothes finally slipped off of his ankles, dropped by his shirt on the beach. His shaft bounced and twitched, nearly spurting into the fire from the sudden burst of wonderful feelings. He giggled, feeling giddy and bouncy as he rolled his head in a circle, finally resting his cheek on his shoulders again and looking up, past the fire.

Pierre stood above him, offering a hand. He thought that the rat had been wearing a loincloth before, but that seemed to have been lost. Instead, the rat was naked, and the painted rings extended even down to his cock, wrapping in a white circle around the base of it. Peter pointed at it and smiled, but the rat said nothing, only helping him to his feet.

An arm wrapped around him, giving him a gentle squeeze, while another hand pulled him by the tail until he was standing right beside the rat. He heard the voice again as he looked down, past his cock, to the fire.

"Just one thing left, my little friend. Just one bit of tension left. You know what you need; just let it out, and you'll be so relaxed, so happy, so empty, just waiting for your good friend to help tell you what to do..."

Peter's hands knew just what to do, and the monkey quickly set to jerking himself off. His fingers wrapped around his cock and his tongue hung out of his mouth as he started jerking off, teasing himself, stroking hard and fast.

It took little time at all. With the embrace of the rat and the warmth of the fire, he was so close, and soon, he went over the edge. A flash went off in his head, and he stared at the fire dumbly as his seed splattered into the flames, hissing as it was instantly burned off.

Just like his thoughts.

He felt a hand on his backside, patting him.

"Such a good monkey..."

The End