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Koll had made a fortune from corporate blackmail. But it'd been quiet for a few months now, and he needed another big win. He settled on an ambiguous business conference, by Morpheus & Luminary. They hosted at their own building: an isolated slab of steel only accessible by one winding road. On arrival, many guests joked they'd gone to prison.

After a brief security gate, they were ushered into a grand set of halls. Servers milled about, and drinks were consumed at an unprofessional level, as hundreds of voices chattered happily. They were supposed to take to the furthest room. A small stage had been set up, where a long line of public speakers desperately tried to garner interest. Morpheus & Luminary was a consultancy firm, after all.

Koll soon found why no one cared; the company instead made its billions in the sex trade. He was told they had a special, sub-conscious technique to create better 'products' than any other supplier.

At that, the otter imagined the front-page spread. Gleefully, he ingratiated, and bounced among groups to search for the perfect witness. He found his target at the bar. Usually, he'd look for someone meek. It was pure instinct that drove him to approach the other otter.

The suit looked awkward against his broad chest. Expensive though, and supported by handsome features, and a subtly curled tail. Somehow, it left the impression he struggled to sit straight.

Koll couldn't resist. The man offered his future riches in one hand, and a hot evening in the other.

He took a seat to his left. The man turned and gave him a once over. Then, he flashed a devilish smile, and offered Koll a sip from his drink.

…

Koll woke to a blank room. He lay on a plain mattress with a dry throat, and a sluggish feeling in his limbs.

His kidnappers had divulged him of everything, including his clothes. Instead, leaving some sort of mask over his head. It left his lower muzzle and eyes free, but was stuck to his neck by a rubbery collar. As he twisted his head, the material stretched with a high squeak.

Below, a tiny, steel cage squeezed his cock. It was one solid piece, and unadorned, leaving only a slim hole at the end for him to urinate. There was no hole for a key.

He pried at both pieces while he explored. There was a simple bedroom, where he awoke, and an attached bathroom. No windows in place, or even bricks to indicate there were ever any in the first place. A desk faced a poor office chair. The backrest was pocketed with age and grey stains. Both were constructed in one piece without screws or loose pieces.

Basic toiletries lined the bathroom shelves. Instead of a shower, there was a bathtub. It was too small to turn or swim in, and the whole thing was bolted down with a rusty length of chain, but he couldn't help feeling relieved. He would go insane without submerging himself, and the smell would be noxious.

Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the thought. He wouldn't stay here for that long. Once the lethargy and drugs wore off, he would claw his way out.

Outside, an iron door sat in a short hallway between the rooms. It had a closed grate at the bottom, but was otherwise entirely smooth, without handle nor seams. Tapping against it released a dull thud equivalent to nudging a stone.

Hysterically, he remembered some mystery movies where they found weak points by tapping around. Cursing and crying out, then wrenching at the helmet, he bruised his knuckles against the door. No sounds came from the other side.

He resolved to escape elsewhere, even if it meant going through the floor. Tears pooled in the sockets of his mask as he returned to the bedroom, and ransacked the desk draws. In the lowest one, he found a gay-porn magazine, with a smirking otter on the front. A leather hood covered his head. The rest of him was exposed, and the camera's foreshortening made his tight erection fill the page, while he gazed off blindly into the distance. The series was titled: 'Gentle Otter.'

Koll threw it against the wall.

Soon, he found the floor was tiled in the bathroom, and a smooth concrete everywhere else.

The light fixtures were wrapped in cages, and the cables and switches were zip-locked in place.

There was unlimited water, but a hidden drain beneath the tub prevented flooding.

There was no gap beneath the metal door.

Nothing tied down the bed frame; it was just too heavy to move. He took the mattress. The small success came after hours of searching and experimenting. He felt worn down by it, as well as the drugs that still hadn't washed from his system. Loathe as he was to admit it, he couldn't get out.

Scurrying around in his birthday suit left him partially relieved by the fact. Even at home, he stuck to lounge-wear. Now, all he could focus on was his metallized junk battering his thighs, and aching his balls.

But the mask was worse. Unlike the one in the magazine, his headpiece didn't have an overt purpose. It didn't stop him from doing or experiencing anything. Smooth, padded rubber wrapped over his skull and along his snout. His jaw was left free, but a similar wrap looped over his neck to keep it in place. An elastic material went between the two, and stretched with the movement of his neck. All clearly meant for long-term wear and comfort. Nothing painful; he just couldn't get it off.

His fatigue caught up with him, and he resolved to continue tomorrow. In the meantime, he didn't want to sleep away from the door, and be woken unawares. He took the mattress from the frame, dragged it to the door, and used it as a barricade. It was an awkward way to rest. They hadn't left him a blanket, but the room was hot with stifled air.

Soon, he drifted off to sleep.

…

They stood waist-deep in a river. Trees line either side, and the sky was a glorious blue above.

The other figure was a familiar-looking otter, but Koll couldn't put a name to his masked face. He wore some sort of tribal outfit, with a feathered, ghoulish headpiece. It had a wide grin, and bulbous markings over the eyes. Strange, but not enough to sway Koll's arousal at the sight below.

_They stood nude together, but unlike himself, the stranger was picture-perfect. His body was all sharp lines between popping muscles, wrapped in smooth, oiled fur over the top. He stood with his hip cocked, and his broad arms folded— only thickening the deep grooves of his chest. _

Koll frowned as his eyes went south. There was something strange about the sight of the mustelid's crotch, but he couldn't focus on it. It felt familiar, and it stuck with him as the stranger spun around and walked upstream.

Koll followed, and they waded together some distance. The figment only wore briefs, which soon hugged his rear as the water splashed against him. His ass was the most muscular part of him. It was huge, even on his bulky frame, and made him look like a bowling pin.

The figment seemed to know it. He teasingly flicked his hips from side to side as he walked, and put an arch in his trunk-like tail. It revealed the damp crevice of his asshole plastered behind the fabric. The glimpse was surrounded by a spot of oval fur that trailed down from his chest.

_Koll wanted to see the full shape. He wished to tear the garment away, so that he could grab the meaty buns in each hand, and hear the man moan in desire. The wilderness didn't seem like a hinderance to his goal. Nor the fact they hadn't spoken a word to each other. _

Together, they kept walking. Koll trailed behind like a helpless duckling. He was surprised they weren't swimming instead, but then doubted that that provided such an exciting angle.

Eventually, they reached a small waterfall. The figment bent over a smooth, pale rock at the base, then kicked the garment down his legs. It zipped away in the current, and disappeared.

“Go wild," he said with a knowing smirk. He then lifted his tail, and revealed the pink of his hole winking in anticipation.

It was larger than life, and far beyond Koll's wildest fantasies. He slapped his cock forward into the offered crevice. A spurt of excitement left the entrance slick, as he began to rub circles against his target, while his free hand trailed down the lifted tail. Meeting the fat of his cheek, he mushed it inwards against his length. Still, the figment's hole looked huge. It wasn't smothered by the dome of his cock as he swirled it around, setting his nerves alight. His claws curling in the riverbed.

Unable to resist, he pulled back to gently spank one cheek. Then, he waited for a reaction either way.

Surprisingly, the figment brought his own hand back, and gave himself a sharp blow to the other side. The clap reverberated through the trees along with his cry. His head twisted back with a whine to glance back.

Koll gazed from the smirking muzzle to the trees, but they were still alone.

_The figment giggled at his reaction, then brought his other hand back. He pulled himself open on both sides, again inviting Koll to enter. _

Koll groaned at the sight. Grabbing his cock, he slicked himself with his pre-cum, then spat, to be cautious. His aim was off, and he had to smear the gooey fluid over himself from the base of the figment's tail. The smell left him hornier than ever. He went back to sliding back and forth, but pressed closer. Now he could feel the heat and musk wafting from the other male, and he drank it all in with a pleased sigh.

Impatient, the figment butted him with his tail. Koll laughed breathlessly, and finally obliged him. They moaned in tandem, as his asshole caved under pressure, and the first inch popped inside.

In dreamland, there was no time for buildup. A slow and insistent push, then their bodies met, and he was fully inside. The figment gave no pained hisses. Koll wasn't asked to wait. Instead, he got another smirk, and a clench to tell him to move it. Again, that familiarity.

It didn't slow him, regardless. He knew he wouldn't last long. Each push sank him deep into the figment's pliant body, with a soft 'plap' of fur meeting fur. Then drawing back, a squeeze as the masked figure tried pulling his length back inside.

The figment left liberal streaks over the rock with each thrust— loud enough for them both to hear over the din of moans. They spattered down to the water below faster, as Koll picked up his pace. Breathing harshly through grunts and squeaks to the slapping of his balls against the offered rump.

It was blissful. The chill from the wild could not shake his passion. He could feel his orgasm rapidly approaching with every twitch and breathy groan from the man below him. Trying to slow down, he roved his hands over the other figment's body, admiring his every curve and dip, and the thick muscles over his chest.

He didn't seem to like that, and appeared needier than before. Spreading his legs wider, then twisting over— as if in the middle of a swimming stroke— he bit at Koll's chin.

_“Alright," Koll yelped back. He let himself go, and hammered inwards. Reaching around, he loosely stroked the other man's squirting cock, and used it to pull his hips back into each thrust. _

“I—I"

He was only a few humps away. The figment giggled and writhed under him as they reached their own orgasm. They sprayed the stone in impossible amounts, and Koll watched with half-lidded eyes, to watch the creamy waterfall.

Tilting his head back, he pulled back for the home-stretch.

Then suddenly awoke, back in his cell. The day's horrors returned to him. Quickly, he realised his erection had been a lie. There was only the constant ache of the cage, stifling any potential pleasures. It leaked a pitiful speck of fluid, which he wiped off with one thumb.

The lights had dimmed above him, but lit up as he moved. They ached his eyes as he explored. His sleepless brain couldn't find anything amiss. Though all he could think about was his dream. It was one of the most vivid he could remember having. He was dumbfounded and smug over the memory, even as his heart raced with his continued detainment.

Eventually, he cooled down enough to return to the mattress. It took a while to return to sleep. Behind him, the door remained in place, and he let the weight of it soothe his nerves.

_Another otter— this time with a pair of black, diving goggles covering his eyes. He was otherwise nude. His slim muzzle popped the tip of Koll's cock in and out of his cheeks with an obscene level of suction. Each pop ended with a pleased and slutty moan before the figment dipped back down. _

Koll's head rolled back with the motion, to find himself propped against a tree. They lay on a beach together, with the sun low in the sky. Sand travelled endlessly on either side of them. The ocean beyond that: cut in half by the sway of the goggled man's tail.

The figment cradled his nuts, and the root of his cock, in one hand, as he guided it into his muzzle. He used his other to pin Koll's chest back against the tree.

“Okay…"

“Hm."

Koll arched his back at the humming. He squirmed in the rough sand— noticed how it contrasted with the slick texture of his tongue brushing over him.

The figment pulled away to lap up his pre-cum like honey. His cold nose tickled Koll as he sniffed and trailed down. At the base, he worshipped each ball. First kissing, before sucking each into his mouth to play with.

Done, they slipped out with a gooey splatter against Koll's tail. Then his tongue dragged back up in a sloppy, squiggly line. Back to the top, he guided the tip back towards his mouth. He brushed the head across his cheeks and nose before taking it all back into his muzzle. Gagging, as it passed his airway, he kept going until his lips met Koll's soggy balls. Then, the regular blowjob continued.

Koll wanted to reward him somehow, beyond his own desperate moans. He tried grooming the other's head– __fur. But t_ he figment took the pressure on the back of his head as a sign to speed up. Each squeak and breath became short-lived. Every dip cut both off with a dull gag._

Koll's orgasm approached. He didn't want to finish so soon this time, and not without helping the other man first. His efforts doubled, and somehow, the figment became faster. The length of his cock became a blur of orange.

It was only when Koll pulled on the mask, that the motion stuttered, so that his hand could be slapped aside. The figment huffed in mock annoyance, then curled onto his side. He rested his head on Koll's thigh. His hand lowered from his chest to instead loop around his waist. With the new grip, he dragged himself back into the blowjob, giving Koll a clear view of his dick pulsing along his throat.

“Like a diver looking for air…," said Koll. The figment gurgled back. His goggles poked Koll's stomach as he went.

Koll no longer felt guilty for not helping. The figment was clearly loving his own fastidiousness. His cock was visibly twitching, and throbbing between his legs, and left a clear snail-trail in the sand.

The new angle felt like he was fucking a sleeve. As his orgasm approached, the gags lessened, and the whole motion smoothed out. It was like his cock was meant to be there, buried in the goggled–man's neck. He closed his eyes for the last few pops. Through gritted teeth, he smiled at the pleased sounds of the figment's own, hands-free finish. An inch further, and Koll would join him. Whiskers tickled his belly button. Curling his tail, he—

—woke on the same mattress against the door.

Cursing, he rubbed at his eyes, and caught the material of the helmet once again. It caused his fur no irritation, despite how long he'd worn it. He wondered if he'd eventually get used to it. Maybe someday he would forget it was even there.

His cage was unforgettable, however. It leaked a constant stream and ached within its confines. Koll tried to ignore it, and flipped onto the other side of the bed.

Remembering goggles, he lay on his back instead.

Another otter waited for him. They were close, as they leaned together at the edge of an infinity pool. There was a vast, forested landscape below. Mountains gnawed the clouds on the horizon.

A finger tilted his head away from the view. The figment was now beside him, and their muzzles were close. He wore a white, backwards cap that allowed his stout ears to poke through, and a pair of sports shades.

_Smirking, he pointed down to the water between them. He had his other hand around both their lengths. Their legs and tails were curled together like lovers. Cloudy dots of pre-cum polluted the water, as they each grew closer to the edge. Kisses peppered his chin, then moved over his pulse points, down to his chest. _

“No," Koll told him, with dawning realisation.

The figment chuckled at him, before nibbling on his nipple. His other hand didn't slow, even as they drifted from the lip, to the centre of the pool.

“No," Koll said again. He pulled away and swam backwards. Behind him, there was a square building of pale stone. No one else was around. The sun was beating down on his back and quickly drying the fresh water, but he didn't care. Dragging himself over the edge of the pool, he stalked into the building. It seemed to be a holiday resort of some kind. It was all empty, even at the reception.

When he spun around, the figment was following. Fully naked, and out of the water, he was a sight to behold. With his hip cocked to one side, and a challenging tilt to his head, his dick bobbed erect between them, and dribbled to the marble floor.

Koll took another step back, until his lower back bumped the table. The figment strode right into his personal space.

“What is this? Why does this keep happening?"

The other otter didn't reply. He bumped their noses, then again pressed their crotches together.

Koll grunted, and let his eyes shut. He splayed over the counter, as the other man humped him. A strong arm lifted his thigh upwards, and kept his legs open.

It was the loosest friction yet, but it was still the fastest buildup to a finish. Somehow, the figment still beat him to it. They moaned together and kissed, as hot splatters of cum lathered his stomach. A hump later, and he could finish himself.

He knew it would never happen, as the figment grinned against his mouth.

Koll clutched at his head, and woke to the same unyielding helmet. It felt as though the cage had shrunk overnight. It now stunk of his own repressed sexuality, and his fur had become crusty with it. At some point, he'd even squirted out a line, and now it trailed along the middle of the mattress.

It didn't matter, and neither did his continued imprisonment. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd seen. The dreams were perfectly clear. They weren't natural, because they weren't of his own making. The helmet was projecting all the alluring simulations to him, only to deny him the best part.

He couldn't sit still after that. The helmet left him with deep paranoia, wondering what else it could do to him. Flipping over the mattress to the 'clean' side helped, as well as taking a lukewarm bath. Even if he couldn't scrub the feeling of hot cum from his stomach.

After towelling himself off, he picked up the magazine. Anything would be better than his twisted nightmares. 'Gentle Otter,' seemed to be a monthly, paid subscription for gay photoshoots. He was treated to fifteen pages of otter porn spread broadly across each page. Sparse writing added a few contextual and suggestive details. Things like fake dialogue, and descriptions of the environment.

Usually, the pictures were taken outside, and near bodies of water. Most of them had raised tails, as otters are wider around the hips. Though none were as stunning as his first dream.

Towards the back, were more kinky images, with a harness and cage on one figure. Koll wanted to tear it to pieces by that point. He had to take frequent breaks to stop his cock hurting too badly. Hopefully, his body would acclimate soon.

When he wasn't reading, he let his thoughts consume him. He thought about the reoccurring figure, and what he meant. Somehow, he seemed familiar, but Koll didn't know where. All he could think about was each silly hat, and the smirk he got each time he was about to finish. The figment was enjoying his torment more than his own pleasure.

Time was hard to measure. Taking frequent baths helped soothe him, and break up the monotony.

At some point as he was reading, the hatch opened. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of polished wooden floors, and brown chinos against canine feet. He smelt deodorant, and heard the lazy whistle of another's voice.

“Hey!"

The grate slammed closed before he could throw his hands through. A tray of food had slipped through. He banged and screamed at the metal, but whoever delivered it to him did not answer. Likely, the door was too hardy for anything to be heard through it.

The tray was all finger food. There were diced vegetables on one side, and pieces of fish on the other. They hadn't given him any cutlery to hurt himself with.

When he lifted it to his lap, he discovered something underneath. There was another 'Gentle Otter' magazine. This time, the predominant focus was on floodplains and mud-baths. Three figures wrestled in a puddle, in contrast with their bright, excited eyes gazing longingly at one another.

The familiar rage curdled Koll's gut, but at the same time, he felt relieved he had something more to look through. He tried to savour each page as the day dragged on.

When the lights dimmed, he resigned himself to the implanted world. He made one last token effort to dislodge the mask, before curling up for the night— one hand cupped around his aching balls.

…

“Just down here; there's a beautiful view inside."

Koll felt very lucky tonight, as Victor Emmed pulled him along by the tie. The dominant otter worked as an executive for Morpheus & Luminary. Better yet, he was terrifying with a few drinks in him— now looking more dangerous than the rest of the business people combined. His grin was all fangs and teeth, as he dragged Koll behind him.

By the time they'd agreed to find a room, Koll's drunken, wilder nature shone through. He kept stumbling, and squeaking as their tails brushed together under his paws. In return, he kept slapping the other's ass.

Victor just tugged him harder. His fur was a cacao brown, but cream-coloured around his chin and neck. It paired wonderfully with his dark suit and open collar.

Koll wanted to leave kisses across it, then all the way down to his hips. He tried for the lips first, and ended up butting their noses together.

Victor didn't flinch. His giggles smelt of fruits in the short space between them. He kissed Koll back properly, and had him moaning with a brush of his tongue.

“Hmm. I've already got a beautiful view."

“We can stop if you're happy," said Victor.

Koll grasped Victor by his ass, and dove in for another kiss, uncaring of the hallway they lingered in. The muscles there were thick, even for a natural swimmer. His drunken mind conjured a picture of the Adonis squatting; yet his thoughts scattered when his hands brushed a silky fabric beneath his sharp trousers.

Victor retaliated by pulling their crotches flush, and rolling their trapped cocks together.

By this point, Koll was feeling like a king. They were both well-endowed, and each hard and growing for the other. It was everything he could've wanted. He planned to tell Victor, before he was knocked back, and he returned to being pulled along.

“Come on; you're going to leak all over the carpet."

“I'll save it all for you, shall I?"

Koll adjusted himself, but noted that he'd already stained through his trouser leg.

“I'm all yours, Mr Bracken— for tonight and tomorrow."

Perhaps a bit much for most people, but Koll felt insatiable on top of his prior plans. He wasn't there just for pleasure, after all. So, he scratched under Victor's tail, then snaked his hand lower: under his rump and between his legs. Lifting, he massaged all his taint. It felt strangely tough.

“I'll make good use of your time, Mr Emmed. I'm sure we have a lot to cover."

Victor giggled again, and wiggled from side to side, before slamming Koll back against a door. Again, with surprising strength. Anyone else on the floor would have undoubtedly heard it.

“Here we are," Victor continued. He nosed and nuzzled Koll's neck, and pressed into his chest, as he fumbled with the handle.

Koll replied with an open-mouthed moan. He took a moment to catch his breath, and to subtly shake bruising from his shoulders. Refusing to enter on the back foot, he began to whisper.

“You've got a pretty tail, My Emmed. And until tomorrow, that's all you're going to be for me— a pretty hole for me to breed and ruin, as many times as I want. If you ask nicely, I might even leave it in overnight. It'll make a much better alarm when I—"

The door gave way, and Koll stumbled backwards. A grip on his tie stopped him short, and kept him from falling even as it choked him.

“Careful, Mr Bracken. Those were some big words."

Koll couldn't recover fast enough, before Victor's other hand darted forward, and cupped the long bulge between his legs. His knees nearly gave out at the touch. He let out a needy groan, then slammed their hips back together. It was rough enough to leave an ache.

Victor didn't falter. He kept his sharp grin, and begin to trail bites up Koll's throat.

“Y–yeah. I've got something else that's big."

Victor hummed back as if humouring him. Then he began to stroke.

Koll shuddered, then stilled as a fang pricked along his pulse points. A lap of tongue followed in apology.

Carefully, Koll exhaled, and tried to bring back his own enthusiasm to match. Even if he couldn't shake the feeling he'd fallen into an otter-sized mousetrap. He slid his hands back down Victor's body again, until they settled again by his cheeks. It felt almost natural to leave them there.

Nuzzling forward, he initiated the next kiss. He kept it slow and passionate, as if they were lovers going for the first time. Now it was Victor's turn to take a step back— to take a moment to try to reciprocate.

Feeling drunk and brave, he suddenly lifted Victor by the hips, and carried him in his arms. Victor's joy was more of a shriek this time.

“Where…"

Koll huffed for breath. He swayed on his paws from both the alcohol and the weight.

Victor laughed again, and took the opportunity to pet Koll's muzzle. His thumb trailed over his lips, then pushed inside onto his tongue. Koll suckled and hummed over it.

Victor pulled out to jab at a door.

Koll sauntered over, and managed a brief glance of the flat as he went. Steel beams intersected floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall, while sparse, minimalist furniture lined the other three walls. He found it hard to believe anyone lived here.

They passed into the bedroom. A king-sized bed was pressed against a dark-panelled wall, while the same window design continued into this room. His arms really weren't strong enough to carry the man for long, and he harshly dropped Victor to the bed.

“Eager to please, Mr Bracken?"

Victor swiftly retaliated by pulling Koll down into a searing kiss. They moaned as it grew much deeper than before— tongues sucked and curled together, but Koll forced all the action back down into the otter below him. He frantically wrenched their clothes away, and scooted them up the bed. Neither broke the kiss as they went, letting it grow lewd, and matt each of their muzzles until Victor's head reached the pillow.

With his trousers kicked down between his legs, Koll quickly stroked himself to hardness, and sat back on his knees. Victor squirmed below, and slowly peeled off a thin black lace to let his own length flop up against his stomach.

“Do you have any lube?"

“I do."

“Top draw?"

Koll was already there, and flicking through, but only found suggestive magazines. They were crisp and uncreased, and didn't look like they'd ever been used. The top cover depicted sprawled legs, and a long line of beads drawn-out between.

“Nope," Victor said, popping the 'p.' He twisted onto his front, then lifted his tail, and wagged it from side to side. To their laughter, it smacked Koll on the nose. It was a common accident for their species.

“Do you want me to go in dry?"

“No; look closer."

Victor planted his face further into the bed, and spread his legs. Reaching behind and stretching his ass apart revealed the smooth base of a butt plug. The reveal stumped Koll for a moment, even as he continued to stroke himself.

“Did you sit on that for the whole hour we were talking?"

Victor grinned, unflappable, and shook his tail once again. Koll dodged it with a laugh.

“Were you waiting for me?" he pushed on.

“Hmm…"

Victor smirked, then slapped his own rump.

“Why don't you find out how ready I was for you?"

Koll was beginning to feel out of his depth. He grabbed the base of the toy, and pulled, but not with much force. Rocking it back and forth, Victor dutifully moaned.

“Fuck; just like that… Now, if only I had something deeper."

Now it was Koll's turn to chuckle.

“All right, all right. Just let me get my own surprise first."

He rummaged through his trousers to find the condom that was dutifully waiting in his back pocket.

“Ta Da."

He brought it to his teeth to tear it open, but again Victor was moving. In an instant, he was in his face, and taking the condom from his teeth by biting with his own. Together, they tore it open.

Koll reached up to take the packet, and again, Victor beat him to it. The condom tip was sucked between his lips, letting the flat portion stay puckered against his muzzle. Then, he went down to all fours, and picked up Koll's cock.

“Holy fuck," Koll said. At this point, he was more impressed than aroused. Even the alcohol didn't stop him feeling so unprepared. It felt like he was receiving a five-star meal completely out of the blue. His flings were rarely so passionate, and a part of him felt guilty he'd soon be scamming Victor.

Below, Victor moaned as he jerked Koll off in front of his tongue. He swiped his cock across his face, smearing the dot of pre-cum, then parted his lips, and throated Koll through the condom.

“You're really fucking ready for this. You look starved for this cock, Mr Emmed."

Victor squeaked back, as his lips met Koll's crotch. The condom flattened out with it. They held the pose together, as Victor suckled.

Koll chose to act this time. He took Victor's muzzle and humped once, before holding the other otter in place. Slowly, he drew himself back, and relished the feel of his tongue drawing over his whole length. Except this time, the condom was perfectly wrapped over him. It jerked free and up against his belly with a dot of white.

“Alright," Koll huffed, “let me see your surprise, again."

Victor parted with a final, reverent kiss, then lay onto his back. He eagerly grabbed the underside of his knees and pulled back, again revealing the base of the plug. It stirred in place as he tensed his abs.

“You're right; this is a beautiful view."

Koll ran his hands up the underside of Victor's excitable tail. Meeting his hips, they squeezed the muscular flesh, and spread Victor even wider for his gaze. He felt he had to be brave, now. Victor had brought his A-game all evening, and now Koll had to prove he could, and would, match it.

With a confident smirk, he brought his head down and bit the base of the plug. He rolled his eyes to the top of his head, to maintain eye-contact with Victor as he drew back. It was slow, and the tension ached his jaw. But he kept going as Victor's rim relaxed and grew wide, before it popped free, and his neck snapped back.

Victor squeaked happily below him. His toes curled, and his face was flushed with desire.

“Oh…" said Koll through the toy. His eyes were first shocked by the hole hungrily twitching for him, then the huge toy hovering between his eyes.

He told himself to play it cool, even if the weight felt like a brick. As casually as he could, he spat it to the wayside, where it made a thud against the bed.

“Oh yes, Mr Bracket. I bought that, and had it in me, teasing me this whole time for you to now fuck me. Please, don't keep me waiting any longer."

He lifted his legs higher until they were against the headboard. With his hands free, he reached down to grab the tip of Koll's cock.

Koll sighed but complied. He slapped his cock into position, and smearing in small circles, mixed the lube and saliva together.

“Come on…" Victor begged.

“Alright."

There was no resistance to Koll's push. With a quick grunt, he slid inside. His legs shook from the slick warmth that gripped him, and massaged his sensitive flesh. He moaned back at Victor's pleased hiss.

“I didn't know you were such a cock slut, Mr Emmed."

As with all his partners, he tried to start slow, but the other otter was clearly impatient, and his ass was more than willing to keep pulling him in. Soon, he'd bottomed out. His balls quietly slapped Victor's tail, making him grunt.

“Only for a few in particular. Now, really fuck me."

Koll groaned at the sheer lust Victor had behind his words.

“Yes, sir."

The title felt more appropriate than kinky at this point. He pulled back slowly, until only the head was inside, then shoved back quickly— hoping he aimed right and had punched Victor's prostate.

Victor's leg kicked out. He let out a huff of air and kept the same pleased smile. Offering nothing more, Koll tried harder still, until his body moved into the natural rhythm of pushing and pulling.

“Fuck, you feel amazing…" he said.

Victor just kept smirking. He looked as unaffected as when they'd first met at the bar.

It only egged Koll further. His arms soon couldn't hold his powerful thrusts, and lay over the other mustelid. Taking in the fresh scent of his fur, as his head lay in the crook of Victor's neck. He took his twitching cock into his hand, and stroked fast as he pulled back, then left him hanging as he plunged back in.

“Good boy," Victor crooned.

Koll felt his head being nuzzled distantly. His own orgasm was fast approaching, with the almost gentle way Victor let him take him. Physically, he was in a cloudy heaven. But he couldn't shake the sensation that Victor was mocking him.

He fucked harder and faster than before. Nibbling on the other's neck, he told him how amazing he felt, and how nice his ass felt beneath him. Yet Victor just hummed along, even as he came a minute later.

“Hngghh…"

The condom tensed and stretched within, but he pretended that he had truly creamed the ass offered to him. He pulled off, and settled over to the other side of the bed. Fatigue took to him fast. Blinking, he saw Victor stretch out his legs then roll over towards him. Blearily, he tried pulling off his condom, but Victor stopped him.

“I think it's hot when guys leave it on," he said.

They smiled at each other, but Koll with growing confusion, as Victor straddled his hips. Guiltily, he noticed the unattended erection between them. He reached for it. Victor slapped his hand away.

“Let me handle myself."

_Victor lifted his hips, and suddenly sank back down, taking the cock and cum-filled condom back into his ass. He let out a pleased sigh, and gave himself an idle stroke. _

It set Koll's nerves alight. After his sudden orgasm, he felt unbearably oversensitive.

“Wait; stop; I've just finished."

“Oh, I'm sure you have another round in you, Mr Bracken."

Koll squirmed as their hips met, making a satisfying clap of fur. He debated whether he really could go again. Part of it was guilt, but after another rise and fall, he knew he couldn't. It was too much, and the ache was making him soften.

“No, seriously; stop."

He took Victor's hips into his hands, and tried to gently urge him off. Instead, Victor sat down. Their tails thwapped angrily together.

“Perhaps, in a few minutes, then," said Victor, tensing his insides.

Koll sighed uncomfortably, and could feel his erection already waning in the meantime.

“Tomorrow, I'll be able to go again. I can give you a blowjob if you'd like, though."

He tried to up the suddenly serious mood. After all, otters were infamous for their ability to deep-throat. But Victor still wasn't budging from his perch above him. He crossed his arms, and glared. The room's temperature seemed to drop with it, even despite his cock that dangled a few inches from Koll's muzzle.

“And that's it?"

Koll felt his own anger raise, fanned by his prior insecurity.

“What do you mean?"

Victor shrugged as if brushing off flies.

“After all that talk, you cum in two minutes then kick me off."

At that, Koll wanted to growl like a much larger predator. It was true; everything he'd said had been talk to get into Victor's bed. He had a proposition to make, and he nearly revealed it all then and there to get the other man off him. Instead, his tongue ran and said something much worse.

“Well, we can't all be sex slaves."

After his words, the temperature dropped even further. Any slow gyrations of hips and tails stopped, and the pair glared at each other. Both were limp. But Koll was proud. He didn't apologise or take back what he said.

Staring back, the other mustelid finally climbed off his lap, and stood by the bedside. He stared down at Koll, who refused to squirm under the scrutiny.

“Maybe… See yourself out in the morning, Mr Bracket."

The tail whacked Koll's thigh without mirth as he passed. Koll didn't say anything about it. A tang of insecurity bloomed in his chest when he pulled the condom from his cock, as somehow even the amount looked pitiful. He tied it up, then flushed it down the toilet. Washing his face and hands, he returned to the bed, and shook the plug to the floor.

He slept uncomfortably in the stranger's bed, and waited for Victor to sometime return.

…

The next morning, a plug, and a bottle of lube came with his meal and magazine.