FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Please take a seat,” the raccoon says pointing to the nearby couch.

You do as you’re told, putting a smile on the raccoon’s face.

“So, let me see if I got this right,” the raccoon pulls a lever to recline the couch so you’re laying across it. “You said you had an attraction to… feet?” They say, perusing their notes.

You nod.

“That is… no bueno,” they say. “You should be attracted to other people, not just their feet, don’t you agree?”

You nod again.

“And, seriously, out of any body part that you could have chosen, feet? That is…” they pause for a few moments, “ Pathetic , is it not?”

You blush before nodding for a third time.

“And we can’t have that, can we?” The raccoon stops, waiting for an answer, so you nod again. “Good, good. At least you know that you have a problem.” You turn your head away, but the raccoon pulls it back towards them with only one of their fingers. “But guess what? You’re in luck, because I’m just the right person for the job.”

You thank them, but the raccoon quickly interrupts you.

“Have you ever heard of Aversion Therapy? Putting it into simple terms, by using overexposure, negative stimulus, and appropriate punishment, you’ll start relating certain things with negative feelings. For example, causing distress on a dog when he hears a bell, or in your case…”

A heavy pair of booted paws land on your chest, taking your breath away. You look at the raccoon, who now has a hungry look in their eyes.

“Take them off.”

You do as you’re told, the room starting to fill with a strong stench as the socked pair of paws comes into your full view.

The raccoon moves one paw towards your face.

“Sniff it,” they order.

“Louder!” They bark.

And you do as you’re told.

“You know, when I received your message, I stopped changing socks for a couple weeks, just for this session. How do you like them?” You shake your head, complaining about the smell. It’s too much even for you. “Good. You see, that’s how feet should be. Dirty. Disgusting. Just like you for liking them!”

His other paw moves down towards your crotch, and once there, starts to rub. You yip, but the “lower” paw quickly makes it way up to slap you. You look at the raccoon and nod. You have to thrust the process. Seeing you compliant, the raccoon moves the paw down again to continue rubbing.

However, no matter how much you try, how denigrating this was supposed to be, you cannot hold out for much longer, moaning as you stain the raccoon’s sock with your juices.

The raccoon tsks at you. “Looks like you’re even worse than I imagined.” You apologize, but the raccoon ignores you as they take out a pen and quickly scribble on their notes. “It seems like we’ll have to schedule your next appointment earlier than I thought.”

You stand up, your session over, and put on your mask to leave when the raccoon stops you.

“Wait a moment.” They take off both of their socks, putting them inside your mask. “You’re not allowed to take them out until you get back home. Once you do, you’re not allowed to wash them either. Let them get even dirtier and crustier. Whenever you masturbate, think of today, one sock in your face all time while the other is the only way you can touch yourself. Whenever you need to go out, wear one sock, while the other goes inside your mask. Rotate them, of course. And continue doing that until our next appointment.”

You look down, but the raccoon scoops your chin up. A smile on their lips.

“Don’t worry. Together, I know, we’ll turn you into a normal, fully functional being…”

The servants whispered and giggled after seeing their Master call the head butler to his office at the dead of night. The butler, more than twice the Master’s age, had been overstepping his boundaries, and so, a hard lesson was needed.

And were the servants right…

The Master held the door open for the butler to enter, under the judgement eyes of the rest of the staff, before quickly shutting the door behind him. He put on the lock before turning around, seeing the old horse sitting at his desk.

“On your knees, boy,” the butler ordered, and the “Master” followed suit, crawling under the desk to rest at the equine’s feet. Without needing to be told, the man started to kiss the top of his shoes, just as the butler slipped a chain around the “Master’s” neck. He then used the man’s shoulders to slip his shoes off.

“Take my socks off, boy,” the butler said. Unlike the first few times they had done this, the man knew what the horse meant, and bit the tip of one sock, craning his neck back to slide it off before repeating the motion with the other foot.

The “Master” then kissed and lapped at the horse’s soles while the latter was going through the day’s paperwork. The butler smirked; it looked like the boy had signed some papers without his permission. Nothing important, or that required his attention, but still, he’d have to teach the boy a lesson.

The horse picked of his “Master”, bending him over the desk as he unzipped his pants.

He had been hired by the man’s father to take care of the household before he passed away. That meant he was in charge of the other servants.

The company.

The finances.

The young man himself.

And it was time to remind the boy who was the true “Master” of this house…

The carnival came to town, and you ran excitedly after hearing the tales about this new fortune teller. Once you entered her tent, you were greeted by the fox before being told to sit down across from her. She asked you what you wanted to know, and you told her that you were interested in what your past lives were like. She nodded and took a look at her crystal ball.

Images flashed before your eyes.

You’re running through the fields, trying to frantically escape an unseen threat, when a shadow befalls you and you find yourself pinned down by a huge reptile. You look from between the Dinosaur’s toes, a glint in its eyes as its lips furl into some semblance of a grin.

Another life.

You meekly sniff the air, not detecting any predators, before moving closer to the water hole. However, just as you lean down to take a sip from it, a trap snaps from above, tangling you firmly inside a net. A caveman approaches, using his scaly feet to turn your head. He smiles; mammal leather is the best when it comes to footwear.

Another life.

Your vision is completely covered in yellow, you try to move, but the chains in your wrists and neck make it too uncomfortable.

“Is something the matter?” Your master asks, surprised that you stopped rubbing his feet, and you shake your head before grabbing his talons again. The chains still hurt you, but you don’t know whether the feathered man’s unaware of it, or just enjoying your pain.

All you know is that he just smiles.

Another life, and another. Hundreds of them. All the same. Through time and space, all starting with you in service of this reptile man’s feet.

And ending below them.

You ask the fortune teller what that means, is that what awaits you?

She shakes her head. This is all in the past, a warning of what may be, but not a certainty. It’s up to you to listen to the lessons of your previous lives and move forward.

You thank her and leave the tent when someone hugs you from behind. You turn around; it’s your Rooster boyfriend.

“So, was she as good as I told you?”

You nod, telling him that the experience left you with some stuff to think about.

Your boyfriend nods, in his usual dismissive way, before wrapping you in a hug and walking you out the carnival. There’s a new kink he’s been dying to try out.

And you look at him, seeing a familiar smile and glint on his eyes…

Just your regular Saturday morning at Metro City.

A deranged, superpowered villain terrorizing the city. Causing countless damage and endangering people before Captain Mutt comes flying down from the sky and teaches them a lesson.

Just like every other week, the press arrives, thanking the hero for his deed and asking him what he’s planning to do with the villain; and just like every other week, the Masked Dog smiles and talks about how he’s going to imprison them in his Remote Fortress to avoid this happening again.

And just like every other week, the press leaves it at that.

The dog flies away with his captive to the farthest corners of the Earth, where his hideout awaits. And just like every other week, the moment they go in, things get interesting.

The hero falls on all fours, and crawls behind the villain as they go to the hero’s room. There, the dog carefully removes the villains costume, kissing their bare skin as each piece of clothing comes off.

Feet. Neck. Pits. Crotch…

The dog lies down on the floor, his eyes completely fogged up as he serves as his master’s footrest.

One whole week of being the super servant of the villain of the week.

Only to release them back six days later.

Only to repeat it all again next Saturday morning.

Just like every other week…

You click “Read More” on the article.

It all makes sense now…

You hear a voice coming from the entrance door, “Honey, I’m home!” You peek out from behind the archway of the computer room to see your Cat partner at the door taking their boots off. They make their way to the living room, leaving sweaty paw prints on the floor.

Your partner then flops down on the couch, putting their feet on the coffee table. “You have no idea what day I had. They had me running from one side to the other, under the sun, and…”

Your partner stops their tale after seeing you come out from the computer, kneeling in front of the table before grabbing one of the steamy paws and dragging your tongue all across the sole. You continue licking, until both soles are more wet with your saliva than their original sweat. Then stuff as many of the toes as you can.

“Oh, wow,” they moan, “Babe, I did not know you—”

You leap from your position, soon sitting on your partners lap as you unbutton their shirt, pressing your mouth against their armpit and licking voraciously. You remember well the article:

Allogrooming: when multiple cats live in the same household,

a dominant cat may groom another that is ‘lower’ in social structure,

to establish or reinforce their dominance.

And if the constant whimpers by your partner as you lap are any sign, they’re more than getting the message across of who’s the true “Alpha Dog” in this house…

When the Secret World was discovered, a lot of people were concerned about how society would change. Monsters and other supernatural creatures being real opened a whole new can of worms, the most surprising of which being the huge demand for “Monster Romance”.

You volunteered for this new program months ago, pairing monsters and humans alike. All your friends had already been matched. One with a Werewolf. One with a Vampire. One with an Angel… You were starting to lose hope when you received a message on your phone.

A monster had answered your ad.

You wait for the next few days when a loud knock comes from the door. You rush to open it excitedly, wondering what it could be. Maybe a Yeti? Or a Tanuki? Or a denizen from the deep?

Instead, what awaits you is… a foot.

A giant foot, its sole as big as your whole body, and even wider somehow. You look behind it, hoping to see a giant or something else, but nope. It’s just a foot.

Ashiarai Yashiki is its name, an ancient foot crashing down from rooftops asking to be washed, and while the official ceremony would be in a couple months, you’re now officially recognized as a couple by the state.

And thus, your new life starts as the foot’s wife, waiting for him to come back every day from “work” and tell you about whose house it went in, who washed it and who didn’t, and the punishment they received from not doing so. All the while, you keep on rubbing your new husband, filing and trimming its nails, and overall acting as the perfect wife since the government funds you’re receiving as its wife means that you no longer need to work so you can focus the rest of your life on tending to the giant appendage.

At last the day comes, all your friends and family are gathered. The judge formally declares you as husband and wife. You may now kiss.

And the foot “looks” at you expectantly…

You’ve had it with all these mice!

When the government gave them rights, after finding out they also had their own societies, technology, and could even communicate with humans, you applauded it. Hell, you even volunteered your own home for some of them to live in, while cities changes to accommodate the new residents. You appreciated the company, and the potential rent split that came along with it.

However, what you did not expect was for them to be walking around all night. In your room. For them to climb your bed, nipping you at times. To find their droppings all over place… One day you tried talking with your roommate about it, but he dismissed your concerns.

“It’s mouse stuff, you wouldn’t get it.”

Going online, you were able to find someone who would be able to solve your problems. Mouse traps in general had been outlawed, but this guy in particular still had some stock left. Not the ones that were like cages, those were sold out, and besides, you had a feeling that your roommate was too smart to fall for them. A glue trap on the other hand…

Your package arrived the next day. A single trap, but that’s all that you needed. You set it up on the ground and looked for ways to cover it up when you felt a slight tingling on your ankle, and before you knew it, you found yourself free falling.

When you regained consciousness, you looked around. Everything seemed… bigger, and a from a quick check, you could tell that you were laying atop your discarded clothes.

You had been shrunk!

You carefully make your way down your pile of clothing, but just as you try taking a step away from them, you find yourself tumbling onto the sticky ground. You had fallen on the glue trap, and no matter how much you tried to unstick yourself, it did not work. In fact, it made the situation even worse. A pair of gray furred feet came in front of you.

“Something the matter, ‘mate?” The mouse said, a shrink ray in his right hand still smoking hot. You try to ask him for help, to turn you back your size. “Yeah, I could do that, though not after we have a small talk.” He smiles. “But first, we gotta get you out of that trap, don’t you think?”

You nod, or as close to that as you can. You wait for him to lend you a hand or something, but he just remains set in place.

“You see, ‘mate, we’re going to need to get you wet first. To remove the glue, of course.” He says, soon after a wet and slimy feeling starts cropping from the soles of your feet. You try to turn back and see what it is, but the trap keeps you in place. “Luckily for you, I had a few friends coming in today who can help.”

You shudder as another tongue starts lapping at your feet. You ask your roommate to stop, maybe there’s another way to get you wet.

“Oh? Okay, ‘mate, as you wish.”

You sigh in relief for a moment, but then the tongues get replaced by something more slick, yet firmer, which rubs back-and-forth at your soles and between your toes. You hear panting behind you, and turn to your roommate to ask about it, but the reality dawns on you when you see his pink cock start to come out of his sheath.

“Now, open wide, ‘mate. Gotta get you wet all around if we want to get you out. After that,” he smirks, “we can talk about how things are going to be in this house from now on…”

You try to steel yourself. This was your first con out of the country, and you did not know what to expect. Sure, you knew the language barrier might be an issue but never expected how lonely things could get when you could not talk with most of the other attendees. However, this? This, you knew what you were getting into.

Looking at the con’s chat, something grabbed your attention. A pup mask icon, and if the app translation was correct, it was a room party. You hesitated at first, but then remembered, pups don’t need to talk. They only need to follow orders. So, you could attend, and maybe still have a good time.

You knock on there lightly, your nerves getting the better off you, but the door opens just as you turn around to leave to your room. An older man in nothing but a jock and a harness welcomes you (or so you think) and makes space for you to get inside.

The man closes the door behind you as you head deeper. You feel… overdressed, but then the man taps you in the shoulder and says something in a foreign language. Likely noticing your puzzled face, he points at a nook inside the bathroom where there’s a big pile of clothing, and you get the hint. You head inside and take off all your clothes, except for your pup hood and an unlatched collar, before going back to the party.

It starts off awkward.

You mostly stand in one corner of the room, grabbing a drink and eating some snacks as you watch from afar. Sure, some people approach you from time to time, but they leave after saying a few sentences that you do not understand. You consider leaving, but no.

You had made it all the way here. You were going to enjoy yourself one way or another!

You head to the annex room, where you had seen multiple people come and go before. It’s darker than in the entrance, but you can still see enough that this is where the “fun” takes place. Several pups, and their masters, are hanging around. Some of them serving their betters: being a footrest, licking their boots or bare feet, you even see one giving their master a blowjob in plain view, not to mention all the pups “wrestling” with each other.

You walk around the room, doubting your decision even more, when a rough, husky voice comes from your left. You turn around, its owner is a big, furry man dressed completely in leather. He’s looking at you with hungry eyes as he takes a blow from his cigar. He chuckles as you turn your gaze down after he blows the smoke at your face. He tells you something, and you just stare at him. He chuckles, and grabs you by your collar, dragging you to one of the nearby beds.

He sits on the bed, where several other masters are also chilling. You wonder whether to follow suit but stop after noticing that the other pups are not doing so. Some are just sitting on the floor, some on their master’s lap, and some…

As much as you’d like to sit on the guy’s lap, you instead sit on the floor, soon feeling the man pet you on the back of your head as he starts to talk with the other masters. Or maybe you, you don’t know, especially with how distracting the moaning pup in front of you is. You take a quick look at the man, who’s not paying you any attention in return, and instead is focusing on whatever conversation he’s having.

You stay like that for a while, getting bored as the minutes go by. Just watching. You look at your “master”, who seems to be having a good time. Still…

The man continues tapping his left foot at the party’s music, and an idea crosses your mind. You hesitate, maybe you’re crossing a line here, but decide to proceed anyway.

It’s not like you’re going to see any of these people again after the con’s over.

You grab the man’s right foot with both hands. His left foot stops tapping but resumes its pace after you start rubbing the right one, followed soon after by another pat on the head. You take a quick look at the man’s face, who seems to be smiling, and he tells you something. In response, you start kissing his toes, to the hollering laughter of the other masters around you. Guess you made the right choice?

He places his right foot on your chest and starts pressing down, making you lie completely on the floor. After he stops, you continue rubbing the foot just as another makes its way under your hood. You start lapping and sucking at it, as more feet start to step on you or rub against your body.

After what felt like hours, your “master” picks you up and sits you on his lap. You feel as he shifts around, before his erect cock starts poking at your hole. You look at him, who seems to be waiting for some kind of approval, and you nod at him. He smiles as your hole starts to get forced open.

You bounce on the man’s lap over and over and start panting. He tells you something, and you just hug him closer. He chuckles and tells you something again before lifting your chin, so you look at him in the eyes. He was expecting a response. Not knowing what to say, or do, you just keep with your bouncing. The man smiles and starts howling, then looking at you. Then more howling, and you get the idea.

You start barking and howling as the man pounds you, to the cheering of the crowd nearby.

At last, you both cum. The man coos something in your ear as you hold him close, soon falling asleep.

When you wake up, you find yourself shivering looking up at the sky. You try to move but find that your arms and legs seem to be neatly tied. You continue struggling until the man from the night before comes into view. He smiles at you and tells you something before petting your head. He then lifts a heavy suitcase and places it right beside you.

You were in the trunk of the man’s car!

You try to argue with him, say something, but notice that you cannot as you’ve been gagged. The man notices your whimpering and gives you another pet before closing the trunk. Vibrations course your body as he starts the car, being taken to who knows where. You try to calm yourself down.

Once you were free, you’d try to find a way to escape! Maybe contact someone. However, that’d prove difficult.

After all, pretty much the whole party saw when your master asked you if you wanted to be foot toy, his pet, his possession. To leave your old life behind to be his and serve him.

And no matter how many times he asked you if you were sure about this, you just continued nodding, kissing his feet, barking, howling, and taking him in…

“Are you sure you are ready for this?” Your partner asks, and you nod at them in confirmation.

After all this time of dating, today is when you’ll finally take your relationship to the next level. You look at your watch and start choking. You loosen your tie. They should have already been here. Is this their way of saying they don’t approve of your relationship? Or maybe…

Your partner reaches over from across the table to grab your hand. You look at them, and they smile. Calming you down.

“Oh, we’re really sorry,” a stout woman in a long dress says, pulling out the chair next to you. You let go of your partner’s hand. Meanwhile, an even bigger man pulls out the chair across from you, sitting next to your partner.

The parents are here.

Your partner presents you to the couple, and you shake their hands, feeling nervous. While your partner had warned you that this was a casual meeting at the café, you did not expect their father to come wearing nothing but a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. It almost makes you look like you’re trying too hard in comparison. Like father like child, you think.

Their mother starts making small talk with you, which helps ease up the tension. Even more so after their father leans on the table with his shoulders, watching you intensely in silence.

The waiter arrives shortly after to give you the menus. You quickly take yours, taking any opportunity to break eye contact with your date’s father, and look at the items. You’re undecided on what to get, when you feel a small pressure on your crotch. You look down, only to see your partner’s toes poking at you.

You blush. While you and your partner liked to do some public stuff from time to time, this did not feel like the right place or time. You take a quick peek above the menu. So far, everything seems like no one has noticed anything. You know you should do something, but grabbing their foot would be too obvious, so instead you lean forward on your chair. Hoping your partner does not take it as an invitation, while also keeping the scene less in view.

The waiter returns and takes your orders. He then takes the menus away, and you try to calm yourself down, something that is difficult when one foot’s rubbing all over your legs and crotch. Still, while next to your partner’s mother, and under their father’s watchful gaze, you need to try as much as you can to not give anything away.

When the pressure gets too much, you have no choice but to grab the playful foot, struggling to keep your panting vague.

“Are you okay?” Your partner asks, and you try not to glare at them. You nod, and they ask if you’d like to accompany them to the bathroom before your meals arrive. You know this trick, the two of you have pulled it off several times before. A cue to just “release some steam” before the meal proper.

You decline your partner’s offer, and they shrug. Their mother says that she needs to go to the bathroom as well, and before you can do anything, the two of them stand up and leave the table. You blink a few times and then look down.

The foot is still on your hand. But if it was not your partner…

You look at their father, who just winks and you, just as another foot appears to continue where the other one left off…

When you first enrolled in magic college, you were more than enthusiastic, wanting to learn all about magic and become a powerful wizard; however, what you didn’t expect was how grueling it was all going to be. From reeling in magical creatures, to potentially deadly mishaps in potion-making, to spells going awry as you learned to use your wand…

Worst of all was Conjuring. The graying orc teaching the class was the worst of them all, demanding studies and homework like if this was his students only class and lowering grades for the most minimal of mistakes. While you were able to barely keep up with your other classes, it was a miracle that you had not been expelled yet with how your Conjuring went.

One day though, everything changed.

A fellow failing student came to you after class. After commiserating for a bit, they moved closer to you and started whispering. Seemingly, the orc usually kept a copy of the answer sheet of every exam in a drawer inside his dorm room. The two of you could try sneaking in, make a copy, and with sheet in hand, ace the rest of the semester. You hesitated for a bit, but you were desperate, so you agreed to help them.

The next day, you went to their room where another student was also waiting. Your friend reassured you that everything was alright, and you started to work on setting the ritual.

“Trust me,” your friend say, and oh boy, you wished you did.

Once the circle was done, the three of you held hands as you channeled your energy into the circle. If everything went right, you would be teleported inside the orc’s room, find the sheet, and leave before anyone noticed.

The magic circle started to glow in a pink color, getting brighter with each second. Your head also felt lighter. You should be in the orc’s room in 3…

2…

1…

You wake up, staring at a yellow sky. The same yellow as… the dorm room’s ceiling. You had succeeded! You try looking around, but your body still aches from spending all that energy, so you decide to continue lying down for a minute. You whisper for your companions, to no answer. Whether they didn’t hear you or were teleported somewhere else, you don’t know.

Moreover, there’s something weird about the room. It feels… cramped, which is odd because you were fairly certain that the faculty’s rooms were bigger as they did not need to share them unlike the students. Yet there’s still these tall walls around you. You look down, and stare at what seems to be like a dark cave, or something.

Wait, could it be…

The door creaks open, and you see the towering figure of your teacher walk by. The orc was dripping wet, just coming out of his shower, steam filling the room. But that size… you had been shrunk!

You watch in shock as the orc dries himself and bends over to put on his underwear. No longer caring if the orc or anyone else noticed you, you shout for your companions but still receive no answers. You pay attention to the orc again, who’s now standing right above you. You try to get the giant’s attention, but he seems to ignore you.

The orc raises one bare foot and starts lowering towards you, or rather, towards his shoe. You try to get up and run away, maybe find some refuge in the toes of the shoe, but it feels like if your body was completely stuck. So, you just close your eyes and wait for your fate. The orc presses hard, yet you don’t find yourself dying. Just gagging. Like if something big was stuck in your throat. A taste of flesh in your mouth. And darkness. Darkness all around.

Except for the occasional glimpses of green every once in a while…

The professor gave a few light taps to his shoe before putting on his shirt. He knew he had sensed magic energy while he was in the bathroom, and while he expected to find a group of troublemakers in his room, doing who knows what, what awaited him instead was just a pair of clean underwear on his bed, a dry towel on the wall, and a new pair of shoes on the floor.

He could barely tell them apart by the aura they were emanating. A trio of first years from one of his classes, most likely. Possibly more, but the rest would appear eventually, or he’d look for them in one of his days off.

While it was by far not the first time this had happened, it surprised him how comfortable the underwear student was. Tightly grabbing his package and giving it form, while still being soft to the touch. The shoes though…

The orc put the towel over his shoulders. He’d go to the student dorms, just to confirm who they were. He covered his eyes to shield from the blazing sun above as he left the dormitory building. Sure, having just bathed, he could have taken the shaded path joining the faculty and student rooms, but today he felt like taking the long route.

Besides, he had a new sweat rag to debut, and a pair of shoes that could use a little breaking in.

And who knows, if the two proved to be as comfortable as his new undies, he could consider keeping them after the semester was over…

The tiger and lion had always been rivals.

The day they were born, the tiger had come out from the womb 3 minutes earlier.

A few months later, the lion spoke his first word, followed the next day by the tiger, who was also the first of the two to walk.

While growing up, the lion was always the top of the class. Meanwhile, the tiger usually was the MVP of whatever sport they decided to play. Their classmates were so divided between the two cats, that for prom they were both elected as prom kings together (eliciting a heated discussion later of which of the two was the “queen”).

The tiger was rude and brash. The lion haughty and calculating.

Together they brought the worst of the other, but also the best, and that’s how they liked it to be. And after a life together, the pair could not fathom ever being apart from the other. That is, until they went to college.

Some say it was a fight, others deliberate, but regardless, tiger and lion fell apart. Went to different colleges. Sure, the pair enjoyed the praise from their new classmates, no longer shackled to nor shadowed by the other half, but there was still something missing.

And so, they would remain until the spring of their senior year of college, when they met again.

It was Sportsball season, and as the team’s captain, the tiger took a step in when they called his team for bracketing. He took a paper out from the ballot, placing him on Bracket A. But just as he was about to return to his place, he noticed who the leader of the next team was. The lion took out his helmet, letting his large mane flow free as he walked past the tiger. The pair locked eyes as the lion took out a paper, placing him all the way to the other side of the bracket.

After the brackets were decided, the pair decided to go out for drinks. Catch up. And it would all have ended there had the tiger not had too many drinks.

“Ready to lose tomorrow?” The tiger said, not remembering that even on a best-case scenario, it would still be several days before they played each other.

“As if,” the lion said, giving the tiger a side-eye.

“Oh, look at Mister Hotshot here.” The tiger smiled. “You know you don’t stand a chance.”

The lion took another sip from his drink, matching now the tiger on empty bottles. “Wanna bet, big guy?”

This peeked the tiger’s attention. “What do you have in mind?”

“The winner… the winner has to… no, the loser…” The lion stammered, trying hard to remain in his seat.

The tiger started cackling, then put an arm around the lion’s shoulder, pulling him close. “The loser has to do whatever the winner asks him to.”

“Right… right…” The lion nodded.

Meanwhile, the tiger used his free hand to caress the side of the lion’s face, grabbing his mane. “Such pretty hair.” The tiger had a wicked smile. “I’m gonna cut it all off when I win. Let everyone see you’re my b-i-t-c-h.”

“Oh, yeah?” The lion said, holding the tiger by his jersey and pulling him closer. “Well, I… I…”

The lion dozed off and the tiger cackled. Calmly petting the lion’s head before getting cab and carrying the sleeping lion back to their hotel.

The next day, sober, they still remembered their bet. Knowing full well that losing early in the bracket would mean admitting defeat, the pair pushed their teams as hard as they could. Little by little they advanced, putting their A game forward, until at last, they got to the finals.

Just as the lion gave one last pep talk to his team, the tiger and his team arrived at their locker rooms.

“What are you doing here?” The lion asked.

“Oh, you know…” The tiger moved forward, twirling a lock of the lion’s golden mane in one of his fingers. “Just making sure that you remember what is at stake here.”

Both teams looked puzzled at this, so the lion explained the situation. To the surprise of both lion and tiger, both of their teams seemed to warm up to the idea. So much so that, without either coach nearby, they decided to join the bet as well, deciding there and then who’d get to serve who for the night after.

The time of the game came. The tiger’s team was on the attack, but the lion knew enough about his friend to know how to react. Thanks to his leadership, they were able to stop most of the tiger’s plays. By half-time, they were only losing 3-0.

Positions changed, and this time, the tiger was on the defense. He did not like that, his approach was usually to just bulldoze forward and make such a big lead that the other team could not recover. Neither did he like having to micromanage each and every single one of his team members. So, unsurprisingly, by the time the game ended, the lion’s team had made up all of the difference.

Tiger and lion were hot, sweaty, and bothered. Panting as the coachs and the referee deliberated. They were going into overtime.

The tiger was back on the attack, so he had an advantage that way. However, he was also predictable, so the lion’s team was able to easily block his. Still, the tiger charged forward, making a break away, and started running towards the goal, thinking there was nothing on his way. What he did not expect was to see the lion waiting for him right at the goal. The tiger smiled.

They would finally know who was the true king of the jungle.

The tiger charged.

The lion blocked.

An unstoppable vs. an unmovable object.

Both too tired after all their previous games, but just as the tiger was about to blackout, the lion gave way first. And so, the tiger made one last push.

The referee blowed his whistle. Half of the stadium cheer. And the tiger lent the lion a hand to help him stand up, before walking him back to the lockers. A true show of sportsmanship after a tense season.

Meanwhile, the tiger grinned.

Back at the locker room, the victors stood proud while the losers sat dejected on the benches. One of the tiger’s teammates tried to step forward to claim his prize, but the tiger stopped him. He walked to the lion and lifted his chin so they were staring at each other.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“You…” The lion tried to turn his head away, but the tiger held him firmly in place. “You win…”

The tiger’s team cheered, all except for the tiger’s second in command, a panther who took a step forward.

“I don’t think he means it,” he said, a shit-eating smile plastered on his face.

Sensing what he was implying, the rest of the tiger’s team soon started to nod along. Insulting the opposite team for not accepting their loss. Wanting to teach them a lesson. Everyone shouted until the tiger raised one arm, and they all went silent.

“Is that true?” The tiger crouched, being now eye-to-eye with the lion. Seeing the lion turn his gaze away, the tiger stood up again. “I think we need some proof that you’re going to fulfill your end of the bet.”

The tiger raised one foot, landing it hard between the lion’s legs, getting back the latter’s attention.

“Kiss my foot,” the tiger commanded. “Bitch.”

It would be so easy to say No. To call the bet off. But the lion knew everyone was watching his every movement.

And he had made a promise.

He lifted the tiger’s cleat, and gave it one quick kiss on the tip.

The tiger’s team hollered.

“He didn’t say stop!” The panther shouted, and so the lion started kissing the tiger’s shoe again.

“Harder!”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he’s doing it…”

“Don’t forget between the threads!”

More and more shouts continued as the lion kissed, and they continued until the tiger pulled back his foot.

“That was good,” The tiger had now the same smile as the panther before. ”But, I said my foot, not my cleats.”

The lion stared daggers at the tiger.

“Take. It. Off.”

The lion waited for the tiger to move, but nothing happened. He was just standing there watching, and the lion sighed. He knew what the tiger meant. There would be no “freebies” this time. So, the lion knelt before the tiger, grabbed his shoe, and pulled it off; making the room start to fill with the stench of a well-played game.

The tiger’s team started to cheer, but before they could redeem their prize, there was something else that needed to be done.

Just as the lion worked on removing the other shoe, the panther handed the tiger a canvas bag. The tiger took out a hair clipper. Strands of hair fell down on the floor next to the tiger’s feet, and when it was all over, the tiger turned on his phone’s camera. He showed the lion his picture.

He almost looked like a lioness now.

“Say it.”

The lion looked down at the ground.

“We lost.”

“Say it,” he repeated.

The lion cocked his head to the side. “You won?”

The tiger started tapping his foot on the marble floor. The lion sighed.

“I’m… your bitch,” the lion said, before kissing the tiger’s toes.

“That’s right, you are!” The tiger shouted. His team looked at him, and he nodded.

It was time for the party to start.

When the coaches came back, they decided to share the buses when going back to the hotel. Each seat row filled with master and their respective servant. The lion had to wear on a hoodie, to hide his new “haircut”, while the tiger had his arm around his prize.

The coaches tried talking both teams into a celebration of some sort, but the tiger replied that he was too tired, soon followed by the rest of his team, so the celebration had to be postponed (not before the lion’s coach winked at the tiger’s, who quickly followed him to his room).

The tiger opened his room and walked the lion to the bed, shoving him towards it. He started to undress, the lion doing the same. Just as the tiger lowered himself to take his pants off, he turned towards the lion. “That last play… you let me pass on purpose, didn’t you?”

The lion chuckled. “Maybe.”

“Silly lion.” The tiger smiled. Naked, he hopped on the bed, pinning the lion under him. “Guess we’ll need another contest then.”

“I’ve been told I give some really good head.” The lion winked.

“Oh, really?” The tiger gave him a cocky smile.

He now had one more thing to prove he was better at…

It had taken you a long time and tons of effort, but at last you had managed to save enough to finally move out from your parents. At first it was all fine and dandy, and you loved the independence that came from that move, but unfortunately, it was not long to last. With the way the economy was going, you could no longer afford to stay in the apartment by yourself, leaving you with two options.

You either went back to your parents, or you got a roommate. And for better or for worse, you chose the second.

Several people responded to your ad, but for one reason or another, you turned them all down. There was a cute husky, but you surmised that he’d be shedding a lot. Then there was the rhino, nice guy, but you could feel the floor rumbling every time he took a step. And then there was the rabbit, his partner, his partner’s boyfriend, his partner’s boyfriend’s secret lover, etc. all of whom were looking to share the same room.

Just as you were about to call it quits and head back to your parents’, you got a new response. A cheetah. He looked friendly, sportsy as well. Nice to the eye as well. In many ways, he seemed like the perfect roommate, though he admitted that he could be a little messy at times, but you told him to not worry.

So, having seen all that you needed, you agreed to meet the cheetah the next day to sign the contract. Six months, the minimum your landowner allowed, but still, how bad could it be, right?

The first few weeks, everything went well. Your new roommate and you seemed to share a lot of interests, spending most afternoons after work together. He was also the quiet kind, not making much noise when he was doing his own thing. Though he might have downplayed how messy he was.

The first Saturday after he moved in, you saw the cheetah come back from his morning run just as you left your room to start the day. The cheetah’s fur was damp, but despite the sweat, he did not smell as strong. The two of you made some small talk while you cooked your breakfast, and when you were done, the cheetah left to take a shower. You said your goodbyes, but just as you sat down and grabbed your fork, you noticed the cheetah lifting his drenched tanktop and dropping it casually over one of the couches. You called out to him, but he did not answer. Once you heard the shower start to run, you headed to the couch and grabbed the shirt, putting it in the cheetah’s laundry pile.

An innocent mistake. It happens.

Or so you thought.

As the days went by, you saw more and more discarded pieces of clothing from the cheetah around the house. A sock inside the cupboard. A shirt hanging from the ceiling fan. One of the cheetah’s used jockstraps mixing with your laundry pile. In fact, the cheetah washed his own laundry so seldom that the apartment started to smell more and more like him. Even when you took it unto yourself to wash the feline’s laundry, you could swear you could still smell him all around the house.

It was frustrating to say the least, not just because the contract stopped you from throwing him out, but because he was a really nice guy. You always enjoyed spending your time with him. Watching movies together. Playing games together. Hell, you had even entertained the idea of joining him during his morning runs; an idea that cropped to your mind that day after hearing the cheetah’s exploits. Discarded pieces of clothing everywhere as was your new normal now.

You went to your bed, turning around while trying to get some sleep. Even your own pillow smelled like the cheetah now. Maybe tomorrow you would talk with the cheetah about his behavior. You took one long, deep breath.

Or maybe another day…

Meanwhile, in his room, the cheetah logging in to his favorite fitness forum.

There was a new message.

“So, how did it go?”

The cheetah started to type.

“It went well. This morning, he finally decided to join me on my runs!”

“See? What did we tell you?” Another user posted. “It’s all about pheromones.”

The cheetah started typing again.

A few weeks ago, he had gone in and made a message, talking about this cute guy he had met, and how they had ended up becoming roomies in the end. Wanting to impress him, he asked the other users for help, where they told him all about how in nature, animals reacted well to pheromones. So, the more pheromones he used around him, the more he’d get interested in him.

That’s when the cheetah started to leaving his sweaty clothing around the house. At first he was afraid that his new roommate would throw him out, but the longer this went on, the more he seemed to get used to the smell. It had been hard, trying to find the optimal places to hide them, especially in his room, but the cheetah knew it all seemed to have worked when his roommate started doing his laundry. From there, it did not take long to get him to rub the cheetah’s feet after his morning runs.

Which was good, because if he hadn’t, the cheetah would have been in big trouble now. Scent is the one sense that gets more easily used to new stimuli, so the cheetah had to increase his musk every day if he wanted this all to continue. Maybe one day, he’d made his new roommate fall for him for realsies, but until then, he’d have to figure how to up the ante.

Maybe tomorrow he would skip hiding his used socks under his roommate’s bed and pillow, and just let him take a whiff straight from his chee-toes…

CW: violence.

The stench of rot and decay surrounded you.

You woke up and grabbed your head, trying to stave off the excruciating pain coursing through your skull as you study your surroundings. You were in some sort of cave, the only light source coming from the hole in the roof from which you fell through. Cleaned off carcasses and bones were strewn on the floor all around you. You could identify some of them, mole rats, brahmins, geckos, and even a yao guai.

The part you were in though, seemed to mostly be devoid of them, making you shudder. It was a cozy nest, made up of leaves and straps of… leather. Not only had you accidentally stumbled into the den of some strong predator, but it seemed like you had landed right on top of its nest.

“So, it awakens.”

You turned in the voice’s direction. A pair of glowing ambers glared at you. Their owner moved closer, and once it got under the light, you gasped at the sight. A tall, scaly creature, easily more than thrice your weight and with razor-sharp claws and horns pointed your way. His tail (because you knew it was a he) trashed behind him, and his huge, meaty paws crushed the bones beneath him as he walked.

The apex predator of the Wastelands. A Deathclaw.

“Friend or Foe?” The looming figure uttered.

Under different circumstances, you’d marvel at the sight of a talking Deathclaw, but instead you reached over for your hip and unholstered your gun. Light flashed as you hit the walls of the cave. Meanwhile, the creature crouched and emitted a loud roar before lunging at you.

You barely managed to leap from the nest in time before aiming again at the beast. At this distance there was no way you’d miss, but no matter how many shots you fired, the beast continued his assault without even flinching. At last, with one claw swipe, the Deathclaw robbed you of your weapon before whipping you with his thick tail. You tried to crawl away but soon found yourself pinned down under one of the beast’s massive foot.

He raised one claw again and swiped at you.

“Friend!” You shout. The claw stopped just short of your neck, and you took the opportunity to reassure the beast. You were just a lone traveler, wandering around the Wastelands when you suddenly found yourself falling in this cave.

“Humans.” The creature tsked. “No matter how far we go, you always find a way to get to us.”

The Deathclaw released you, making his way back to his nest, all while ensuring to step over your weapon. If the metal scraps clinging to the sole of his foot were any indication, you were now defenseless in front of him.

Even more so than before.

You sat down and used one arm to hold your chest. Meanwhile, the beast sat on his nest, looking at you with curiosity.

“Are you injured?”

You shook your head. While your whole body hurt, it seemed like you had not broken anything. Nothing a few Stimpacks wouldn’t take care of anyway.

“Good,” the creature said, “Get up. We’re leaving.”

You tried to protest, but the creature would have none of it. Now that you knew not only that Deathclaws existed but where his nest was, he could not risk you going away and coming back with reinforcements. When your pleading got too annoying for the beast, he went to the back of the cave and started rummaging. He then walked towards you and dropped a metal object onto your lap. It looked like a helmet of sorts, with rings and blinds to the sides. There were some faded letters on the back.

DOMESTICATION UNIT 0179. NAME…

“Put it on.” The creature growled, and after seeing your inaction, finally took things in his own hands.

A red flight blinked from behind you.

“Stand up.” You moved as soon as the Deathclaw stopped talking. “Now, follow.”

And thus, you did.

The Deathclaw guided you across the rocky mountains as he talked about his past. How he and the rest of his pack had been augmented by some humans, before suddenly leaving them alone. While a few decided to stay at the facility and wait for the humans to return, your guide and a few others decided to leave and find a place they could call home. A place far away from humans, where they could live in peace.

You walked mile over mile, your leather boots slowly coming undone by the jagged rocks on your trail. Eventually, your boots just gave up, forcing you to continue the journey barefoot. Rocks and pebbles pierced your skin, while dirt and sand filed at your sole. The burning feeling coursing your foot only cooling off whenever you stepped on mud on had to wade a river.

Day and night you walk, your feet getting more and more ragged on, until you arrived at your destination. A cave atop one of the mountains, so hidden and hostile to human life, that there was a part of the trail where your captor decided to just grab and haul you over. Something which you deeply appreciated, even if just for the small reprieve it gave to your tired and hurt feet.

Inside the cave, you marveled at finding one of the fabled Vaults of old. However, unlike the stories told, this was not inhabited by people from the pre-War era.

Just Deathclaws.

The creatures looked at you wearily. Some even growled at you. There were also a few others with helmets similar to yours, they snapped at you but relented after your guide intervened.

A younger Deathclaw approached you. It roared, making you immediately fall at its feet, throat completely exposed. The Deathclaw gave you a semblance of a smile before crouching. Opening its huge mouth, rows of sharps teeth made their way closer to your face. Strands of spit fell on your face, but just as it was about to crunch, your guide appeared and tackled it away.

The young Deathclaw roared again before scampering away, a couple other young, smaller Deathclaws following after it.

“Are you okay?” The Deathclaw asked. You nodded and asked about what happened. Why it seemed like you could no longer moved when facing with the young Deathclaw. Your guide shrugged. “You’ll learn our language eventually.”

It scared you how even if you could not understand their orders, your body was still forced to comply. But in a way, it was not so dissimilar to how they must have been used originally by your fellow humans to tame Deathclaws.

At last, you reached the inner sanctum, and if you thought your guide was huge, you were not ready for how big the Alpha Matriarch and her consort were like. Deathclaws of all ages and sizes surrounded you as your guide explained the situation. In your language at first, then theirs.

The chamber erupted in loud voices. Some wanted you dead and gone. Others, banished. And a few here and there proposed to make you the first in a line of domesticated humans for the pack.

The matriarch roared, silencing everyone in the room. Then, she growled something at your guide, who just bowed (pushing you down with one claw to bow as well). The chamber erupted again as your guide lead you outside into what you assumed used to be one of the sleeping chambers.

You wanted to ask what was going on, but if you had learned something from your travel with the Deathclaw here, it was that you would not be able to speak unless spoken to. The Deathclaw moved to the center of the room to a circle adorned with straps of cloth and leather, and beckoned you to come closer. You did as ordered and once you were at arm’s reach, he took the unit off.

“The council’s undecided about what to do with you,” The Deathclaw explained. “You will be my responsibility in the meantime.”

The lumbering creature pulled you closer, to his nest. He held you close as he lied down, intending to sleep, but the rough scales scrapping your exposed soles madeyou wince in pain. He looked at you, puzzled, and you explained him about the blisters and other injuries you had endured through your travels.

“You should have told me about it before!” He barked at you, and while you wanted to talk back at him, mention how you could not do so. No matter how much you wanted to do so, but you stayed mum. Even with the unit off, you could still feel some of its influence making you submit to the larger creature.

“We can’t have that.”

Before you could say anything, the Deathclaw grabbed you by your ankles and dangled you in front of him. Your feet right next to the creature’s head, while yours was but mere inches from his crotch. The Deathclaw opened his cavernous mouth and pulled you closer.

Was this it? You getting eaten by a giant monster? Your last sight being the monster’s cock, and surrounded by his musk?

But just as you were about to bite him in a last bid of resistance, a wave of relief coursed through you as the Deathclaw’s cool tongue started lapping at your soles. Deathclaw saliva, he explained, not only could serve to disinfect the wounds, but would speed up the healing.

After a couple minutes, he let you go. You thanked him, but the Deathclaw had other ideas on how to thank him. An eye for an eye, or in this case, a tongue for a tongue. He had endured the same travel as you, so it was only fair he received the same treatment.

And so, you started licking. You wanted to end your worship session a couple minutes in, just like him, but the Deathclaw reminded you how you had not been as thorough as him even if it had taken the same amount of time. So, you continued. Every second of the Deathclaw’s lapping equating to about five or six minute of yours.

And thus, your new life with the Deathclaws started. As the months went by, the council became so impressed by your obedience, that they decided to make you an official member of the pack. Sure, a low rank, no higher than any of the other Domesticated Units, and you would be expected to perform the same grunt work as them, but a member none-the-less.

However, in these chambers. His chambers, you were something else. Something more.

You would be freed from the unit, and allowed to rest with your Deathclaw. And in due time, you would get to know each other more… carnally.

A secure place, an abundant amount of food, and a doting partner. Even when you were the doting partner most of the time, you had to say, you had really struck it rich here in this corner of the Wastelands…

You sit down in the middle of the park, taking out all your equipment from your bag and setting it up for your next customer. You wait, giving furtive glances from one side to another. This part of the park is not as busy, which means less customers, but at the same time, less competition.

“Oh? Are you already open for business?”

You turn around to meet the voice’s owner, the smile on your face dropping as you find yourself at bulge height with a burly bear, dressed all in leather. The harness on his chest does little to hold his huge belly back, so you move over to the side so you can look him at his handsome face. You gulp, and then nod.

The bear gives you a huge grin before taking a seat on the chair in front of you, his heavy boots resting on the stool.

“Give ‘em a spit shine, boy.”

You nod more enthusiastically than you want to admit. You start by brushing both boots off. Thankfully (or perhaps not so), the task takes little time to complete, the bear’s boots being quite clean for your usual clientele. You then grab a rag and lightly tap the shoe polish, dragging the cloth along the bear’s left boot to give it a nice, dark coat. You move on to the right boot, but just as you’re about to tap the polish again, the bear stops you on your tracks.

“I said ‘spit shine’.” The bear smiles at you.

You gulp, looking between the tantalizing piece of footwear and its owner. You lower your head and take out your tongue, traversing the sides of the bear’s boot while he laughs. As you move to the other side, you feel something cold and hard on your crotch. Looking down, the bear is rubbing the tip of his other boot on you, staining your crotch black.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying himself.” The bear chuckles as you nervously try to hide your erection. “What do you say if—”

“Hold it right there!”

You look over. A cop runs over the two of you and takes out his badge.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The bear explains that he was just getting his boots shined. Nothing wrong with that. The cop looks at him, unconvinced.

“Is it because I’m wearing leather? Because if so, here’s nothing wrong–or illegal–about it.”

“Uh-huh. And what about him?” The cop says pointing at you. “Why is he naked?”

Busted…

“We’re finally here,” the Elephant says after almost knocking down the cabin’s door. He moves over to the bed and slouches down, fatigued, after your long trek. Following closely behind, his partner, a Hyena, sits right next to him and starts rubbing the Elephant’s head. Still at the door, your roommate lends you a wing as the two of you head inside.

When the Eagle first told you about this getaway, he had “conveniently” forgotten to mention that his friends would be there as well, but against your best judgement, you had decided to still keep them company, wanting a short reprieve from the world at large. You didn’t really like the Elephant or his partner, but your roommate was there, and that’s all that mattered.

After four hours of walking, you wanted to take a rest like the couple, but there was still more stuff to do around the cabin. You take to dusting the place off while your roommate cooks, and the place sure needed it. It was like it had been abandoned for ages, none of the plumbing working. Tomorrow, you’d make sure to go talk to the agency, as you did not feel like making the whole trip and back all over again.

With you all still sweaty from the trip, you decide to eat on the floor. A poor choice, perhaps, taking into account you would not be able to take a shower after, but you did not want to stink the furniture either. As darkness started to fall, your roommate took the dirty dishes to the sink while the Elephant and Hyena cuddled. You almost felt like a third wheel and were about to excuse yourself, when the Elephant started talking again.

“You know what we should do?” He says, taking a big gulp from his beer bottle before dropping it in between you and them.

“Really?” Your roommate says, having just returned from the kitchen and sitting next to you again. “Truth or Dare? What are you? Twelve?”

“Oh, not Truth or Dare.” The Elephant smirks. “Just ‘Dare’.”

This catches the attention of both the Hyena and Eagle. And you have to admit yours as well.

You all nod in agreement, and just as the Elephant reaches out for the bottle, his partner beats him to it. The Elephant glares at the Hyena, who just smiles as the bottle spins and spins… until it finally stops.

Pointing at you.

The Elephant and Egle start hollering, meanwhile you wait in silence as the cogs inside the Hyena’s head start to turn. At last, something clicks, and he grins at you.

“I dare you to… smell the inside of my boots.”

“Dude…” his partner says at him. He then turns towards you. “Those reek. We’ve been dating for three years now, and not even I can stand them.”

Still, rules are rules, so you don’t have much choice about it. You nod at the Hyena, who smiles triumphantly before quickly taking off his right boot. The room gets flooded with a wet dog scent. Both your roommate and the Elephant cover their nose as you regret all the choices that you hear and now.

You had heard that Hyena’s were musky, but never imagined that it could be so much.

“Now, get over here,” the Hyena says. You take a small step forward, then getting yanked by the Hyena who wraps you with one arm, his hand holding the discarded booth. He pushes it onto your face, completely covering both your nose and mouth, while using his shoulder to stop you from moving back.

Your eyes start to water from the acrid scent, but the Hyena still manages to sense your gaze.

“Just five minutes.”

You continue sniffing in and out. The interior of the boot being putrid like you had never smelled before. The dampness at the throat of the boot wetting your face.

You had a feeling that even when he took the boot off, you’d still smell like Hyena for a while. A hunch you confirmed when the shoewear finally left your face. You returned to where you were sitting just a few moments ago, your roommate giving you a quick sniff before quickly retreating. You reach for the bottle and give it a spin.

This time, it landing on the Elephant.

You all holler again, the Elephant pouting.

“Okay, okay, whatever,” the Elephant says. “What’s it going to be?”

You start to think about a proper punishment, when your roommate moves close to your ear and starts whispering, at a volume so loud you wonder why he was even trying to hide it to begin with.

“You know, elephants have very soft feet,” The Eagle says. You look puzzled at the Elephant, who confirms it. “How about tickling him?”

Even if he had not been responsible for your past five minutes, you agree with the idea. A foot for a foot, so to speak. But before you say your dare, a wicked thought crosses your mind. The Elephant would not just get his feet tickled; they’d get licked.

The Eagle and your roommate look at each other and then at you, more than on board with the idea.

“Okay, fine,” the Elephant says, taking off his hiking shoes before planting both of his heavy feet on your lap. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You are shocked. When you said it, you didn’t mean that you were going to lick them yourself. But the trio reminded you that it had been your dare, so it was your responsibility to go through with it.

You lift one of the Elephant’s feet and give it a tentative lick. They were right, it was soft. Squishy even, though whether that was its regular texture or just the result of all the accumulated sweat, you didn’t know. You continued to lap at both feet, wanting these five minutes to be over, when your roommate taps you on the shoulder.

The dare had been to tickle the Elephant and make him laugh, but the pachyderm remained completely stoic; you had to increase the intensity. You did as you had to, even licking between the Elephant’s toes, but by the end of the five minutes, the Elephant had not even giggled.

“Too bad,” the Elephant said, giving you the first grin on his face since you started worshipping his feet, “Maybe next time you’ll do a better job.”

_ Next time_, you thought as the bottle spinned again, this time landing on your roommate. The Elephant said that since it had been the Eagle’s idea in the first place, it was now his turn to have his feet licked.

By you…

And so, started the rest of your night. You did manage to make the Eagle laugh, but as the night went on and on, the dares started getting more and more risqué.

Massage the Hyena’s feet.

Suck the Elephant’s toes.

Rub the Eagle’s bulge.

Sniff the Hyena’s pits.

Nuzzle the Elephant’s tits.

Give the Eagle a blowjob…

Eventually, the trio dropped the charade. Just like the bottle had no choice when it came to getting spinned, you had no choice when it came to the dares. You were just another part of the game: whoever the bottle landed on, it was who you were serving for the round. And even when it landed on you, it’d be the Eagle or someone else the one spinning it again in your stead.

Eventually, the game ended. The animal trio snored loudly on the bed, while you remained tied up at their feet, serving as their footstool for the night. Your mouth was gagged with their sweaty socks, meanwhile your roommate’s golden talons squeezed your head every once in a while, not allowing you any rest.

And all you could think was, if this had been just the first day, what was the rest of the week going to be like…

You roam the busy streets of this foreign country, in search of your next big hit, when you notice a row of people lining up on the walkway. Looking at them more clearly, it seems like they’re street masseuses. Most of them seem to be quite busy, long lines waiting behind them, but you find a lone Crocodile squatting near the end next to a chair. You turn towards your best friend, and the Lion nods at you.

The two of you approach the Crocodile and ask if they’re open for business. The big reptile looks at you with curiosity, noticing the camera in your hands, before nodding.

“How much?” You ask, and he replies that it depends on what you’re looking for. The crocodile gives the two of you a book, showing all their services.

A foot and shoulder massage, ear cleaning, and some scalp cleaning should be good enough; and at those prices, it’d be even cheaper than just receiving any of them back home.

You ask the reptile if it’s okay to record the sessions for your ASMR channel. The crocodile shrugs (which you’re glad to since you had been streaming all this time), and you pay them before starting to set up your tripod.

By the time you’re done, you turn back and see your friend showing the Crocodile something on his phone. You take a look, it’s a video of a street masseuse biting someone’s sole, the foot only covered by a thin cloth.

“So, what do you think?”

If there was something you did not like about the lion, it was how kinky he could get at times. You were about to shove him away and apologize to the Croc when the speak again.

“Is the cloth really necessary?”

“Not at all, my friend,” the Lion says, a huge grin on his face going ear to ear.

The Crocodile replies that they’re up to it, they could even do both of you if you wanted to, but that it’ll cost extra. The Lion looks at you expectantly, and you sigh before taking out more money.

“Biting the toes as well, right?” The Lion says, you jabbing him on the ribs, but the Croc seems to be taking the comment in stride.

“Indeed.” The reptile nods. “Dirt tends to hide in between scales.”

Neither of you had scales, but you could still sympathize with the statement, nonetheless.

With everything said and done, you tell the Croc that you’re ready.

The Crocodile nods, but instead of giving you way to sit on the chair, they sit on it. They pull a lever to the side, lifting one foot to about waist level, while the other remains firmly set on the ground. They point at you and then to the foot on the ground, “You can start with the foot massage.” They then turn towards your leonine friend. “And you can do the biting. Then, you switch, yes?”

The Lion and you look at each other. There had to be a mistake. You try to back out, but the Crocodile reminds you that it’s all on tape, and you’ve already paid for it. With no other choice, you kneel in front of the Croc and start tracing your thumb along their right foot, while the Lion grabs the Croc’s right ankle and lifts it towards his face.

“And remember, no cloth and pay special attention in between the toes…”

“No. I’m not letting you suck me off.”

“Oh, c’mon dude,” the elephant said, “how will you know you won’t like it if you don’t let me do it!”

Mal sighed. Ever since he had moved in with Sleete six months ago, the elephant would offer his hole, to suck him off, a “trunk-job” pretty much every single day. Hell, Sleete had even offered to share his bed with Mal right during his first night, even though the tiger’s room was furnished to begin with!

The tiger turned back from table where he had his bag and looked at the elephant. Sleete was leaning on the counter, coffee mug in hand, as his tail swinged from one way to another. He was naked, like usual, safe for a pair of well-worn tighty whities which barely managed to constrain the huge package underneath.

“For starters, I’m straight,” Mal replied.

“Oh, right…”

“AND I have a girlfriend.”

The elephant took a sip from his cup. “So, uh, everything well with you two?”

Mal grunted an affirmation as he continued packing his bag. The tiger looked at the black clock on the wall near the entrance. He was going to be late for work.

Sleete took another sip as he looked at the tiger’s worried face. “You know, there’s a spot on my team if you want? Good salary and benefits.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Your loss,” Sleete said dejectedly, “Speaking of, you’ve never told me where—”

“Sorry, but gotta go!” Mal shouted, quickly grabbing his bag and exiting through the front door. Leaving the elephant and his coffee behind…

“Good morning, Mal,” the puffin at the reception desk said.

“Moin, Clara,” the tiger shouted, giving a quick wave before entering the Spa’s employees room. It was empty. For some, a welcome sight, but for him? It was the complete opposite. Not only had he gotten used to being naked around other guys back in college when he played, but it was a stark reminder of how late he was. Not even…

“Oh, look who finally came!” A loud voice came from behind the tiger, as a pair of black hands gripped at his waist.

“Keep It inside your pants, Rod,” Mal said, slapping at the pair of wandering hands.

“Sorry, sorry.” The fox smiled as he took a step back to let the tiger undress. “You’re late today.”

“I know…” Mal sighed. The one day he wanted not only to arrive on time, but even before if he could. “Your shift’s done?”

“Almost,” the fox replied, bringing a small sense of relief to the tiger. Rod usually preferred to take the late shifts at the locale, calling himself ‘crepuscular’, so it couldn’t be that late if he was still working. The tiger continued to undress when the fox spoke again, “Everything ready for tomorrow?”

Heather’s birthday…

“Not really,” Mal replied, taking off his underwear. Completely naked in front of the fox, he leaned down to take his uniform from one of the lockers below, and sensing the fox’s gaze, Mal used his tail to whip at the fox’s face.

Rod giggled and turned around to give the tiger some privacy, though Mal could swear he was still taking glances at him from time to time. “Got her gift yet?”

Mal shook his head. “Still need a couple hunds more.” That’s why he wanted to arrive early today, get a few more customers so, hopefully, he could take all tomorrow off to spend it with her.

Now with pants and shoes on, the fox helped Mal with his shirt.

“You know, I could send some of my usuals your way if you want?”

“Nah, thanks,” Mal said, now fully in his work garb, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“If you say so.” The fox shrugged, and just as if on cue, a red light in the corner of the room lit up. New customers had arrived, so both men left the room and headed on to their stations.

Mal waved one last time at the fox before parting the white tarp leading to his booth. Nothing more than a short stool, a blue canvas bag containing all his tools, and a few other knicks and knacks here and there. The tiger ruffled through the bag’s contents, and after ensuring that everything was in order, he gave a quick thumbs up at the camera pointed at him, then after leaning over to push a button behind a nearby metallic tower.

A light flashed in front of him, giving the otherwise white room a small green hue. He was ready to take on customers.

Mal sat down on the stool, a seat so short that he might as well just be squating on the floor, and waited. Hopefully, lots of customers would come today. Otherwise, well, he’d have to find a different gift, or ask the elephant for some money; and neither option really appealed to him. Maybe…

The light in his booth changed to red, followed soon after by the tarp opening as the seat behind them reclined, and the soles of two big, rough leather boots came into his full view. The steel-toed boots were caked in mud (or at least, that’s what Mal wanted to assume it was), and there were discolored patches here and there along the sides.

The tiger started to unlace one of the boots when the tower next to him started to whirr as it printed. With one hand still trying to pry the boot off, Mal reached over with his free hand and grabbed the ticket.

Footcare.

The tiger sighed with relief. With the state they were in, he was thankful that this just a simple routine. Still, he’d try to give the pair a good shine later if he had the time. Mal put the ticket on his customer pile and proceeded to take the other boot off, a strong but not unpleasant smell starting to fill the room. He grabbed the basket underneath his tool bag and put the pair on top of it before reaching behind the curtain and hitting a bell on the other side. He put the basket on the floor. Soon, Clara (or someone else) would come for the pair to give them a much-needed wash. With that taken care of, Mal turned on the faucet at the back and started to examine his customer.

In front of him lay a pair of brown hooves. They were big, probably the size of both of his fists together, and passing his thumb through the nail, the tiger could tell that they were hardened. Mal grabbed one hoof with both hands and started bending it from one side to another. The hoof’s owner, likely a horse, did not seem to be the type who came for treatment often nor did it himself either, probably one of those that came for treatment every three months or so. And from the state of his boots, Mal could guess that he was a farm worker as well. If the smell and heat were any indication, he had just come from work. Since it was still early in the morning and in the middle of the week, likely one of his days off.

Also, definitely a He. If all those years playing football in college sharing a locker room with a room full of sweaty dudes and practicing with several of his team members had thought him something, it was how to detect a He just from the smell alone.

After examining the other hoof, Mal leaned over and grabbed the now-full basin and put both hooves in. The water would make them softer to work with. Moreover, even if technically not what the horse had requested, Mal knew that all these little “details” would earn him a better tip.

Or so he hoped.

As the hooves soaked, Mal started to think. For the most part, they were clean, and the tiger was thankful for that. This type of requests usually took a big part of his day, especially since unlike massages, there was no time limit on them. Still, the left toe was cracked, and the frog seemed to be way too overgrown. As for the right one, it had started to grow inwards.

Mal sighed and turned on his phone. Might as well continue his audiobook, as this was going to take a while…

He took the left hoof out of the basin and traced the rim of the toe with his thumb, ensuring that he was as far away from the crack as possible. Seeing that it was soft enough, he grabbed some liquid soap and started lathering the sole. If the braying behind the curtain was any indication, it seemed like the horse did not mind this “extra” service.

After rinsing it off, the tiger reached for his bag and took out a curved knife. Before trimming the toe, he used the knife to carve out the excess nail and gunk from below, until the sole was but a milky white, and then started to work on the horse’s frog. Just a few swipes later, he started to move both thumbs underneath the horse’s toe to ensure everything was even. Something which the horse seemed to appreciate.

Mal then grabbed a pair of pliers and started nipping away at the toe. The farther away from the crack, the bigger the trim. As for the crack itself, he grabbed some paste and gently rubbed it along the area, trimming it just enough so that the hoof would not grow any further apart. He’d make a mental note to send a message to Clara later, so she’d tell the horse about the paste, how to take care of his foot, and possibly schedule him for a follow-up session if the horse did not want to go to a specialist instead.

After drying the foot off, Mal set it down on the floor, covering it in a towel while the paste solidified. In the meantime, he got to work on the hoof. Sure, he had to take more passes at it to remove all the ingrowth, and the sole looked more yellow than the other one, but it felt like a faster job…

The horse’s boots came back just as Mal was done filing the horse’s hooves. The tiger quickly inspected them. They had not only been cleaned but shined as well. He put the horse’s hooves back in and pressed a button on the tower next to him. The light above him turned off and the recliner started to move back.

Mal heard as the horse left booth. The light in his booth turned green, and he waited until his phone started to vibrate. The tiger opened his banking app and smiled. He took a sip from his water bottle and started to clean up his station.

It had taken him about a fourth of his shift, but it had been more than worth his time.

It didn’t take Mal long to finish cleaning.

For as tiring as dealing with them was, ungulates were often clean enough that pretty much all he needed to do was lightly disinfect his tools and brush the hoof pieces away. He turned the light of his booth on as he started to scrub the basin off. After all, he was not Rod, he’d have more than enough time before…

The light in his booth turned red again, soon followed by a pair of dress shoes coming from behind the curtain. Mal left the basin to soak as the ticket was getting printed. He dried his hands before grabbing the paper.

It was just a massage. Pleasure, not therapeutic. One hour.

Even with shoes on, Mal could tell that this was a lion just from the tawny yellow patches of fur peeking from under the lion’s dress pants. The tiger sat on the stool and proceeded to take the lion’s shoes off and took a big whiff. Mal sighed. While definitely not as strong as the horse’s, the tiger could tell from the aroma filling his booth that this was another male.

Not that he was surprised. Unlike Rod, the tiger’s bulky build and strength meant that he was usually assigned to the “difficult” customers. Horses, goats, and other hooved creatures that could stand all that he could dish out; same with rhinos, crocodiles, and other tough-skinned people as well.

Sure, Mal was occasionally jealous of the fox, who got his fair share of ladies’ feet, but the main reason he had declined the fox’s offer was that he did not want to make this a repeat of last time. This also usually meant that he got to treat the male customers in the fox’s stead, as men usually appreciated the deep tissue that the tiger provided even without thinking, while woman preferred someone with a more… delicate touch.

The tiger did not mind, however. After all, the tougher the job, the more he’d (usually) get tipped.

And then there were the cats. Who were not only more used to the tiger’s… roughness, but who chose him specifically. More often than not, to get the power trip of having a big, burly former jock prostrated at their paws.

Lions especially.

Male lions more specifically…

Mal looked at his phone. Given the time, the lion likely had come during his lunch hour; and given how light his musk was, Mal doubted that it was because he actually needed it. By the washed color of his pants, which the shoes were not that far off, probably a mid-level manager looking forward to the power rush of a big tiger rubbing his paws before heading back to work.

Not that he minded, anyway.

Mal pulled one of the paws closer and took a deep breath. The lion wiggled his toes on the tiger’s face, but Mal tried to ignore him. The basin was still dirty, but the scent was not bad enough that he needed it. He’d just start immediately with the massage. Mal set his usual music playlist and put the phone on the ground as he started to work on the lion’s paws.

Starting from the heel, he used his thumbs to slowly make his way upwards, slowly smoothing out the wrinkles on the lion’s sole. As Mal moved further up, he made sure to lightly rib the small crevasse between the lion’s sole pad and the ones on his toes. Once he was done, the tiger raised the paw just a little higher, to eye level, and using his free hand, he gripped the lion’s big toe firmly as he moved his toe clockwise to massage the pad while the rest of his hand moved in the opposite direction to massage the top. The tiger continued like that with each of the next toes, but as he was approaching the lion’s pinky, the other paw surprised him by caressing the side of his face.

Mal knew he did not have to do this, but he also knew this was what the lion wanted. What he had really come for. And more importantly, what would leave him the biggest tip in the end. So, the tiger closed his eyes and took a deep breath before pressing his lips against the lion’s paw.

With his nose firmly nested against the lion’s toes, Mal deeply regretted not giving them a wash after all, but it’s not like he hadn’t smelled worse both here and when he was back in college. Mal continued kissing the lion’s pads one after another, but when it came to the toes, they always seemed to be trying to find a way inside his mouth. So, the tiger decided to finally give them the wash they so desperately wanted.

Mal opened his mouth and gave one long lick against the sole, from heel to toe. The lion’s moans giving him all the consent he needed to continue. So, the tiger continued licking.

Every wrinkle.

Every single patch of fur.

And in between every toe.

When one song was over, he’d switch to the other paw. Repeating the process all over again.

The lion’s breathing hastened with every kiss, with every lick, and with every quick movement coming from behind the curtain. This all continued until the lion’s toes curled, and after what was a mew of a roar, they fell limp; a fishy smell coming from behind the curtain.

Thankfully, all fluids had been spilled on the other side, one of the main reasons the curtains were there in the first place. So, all Mal had to do was to put a courtesy pack of wet wipes, which he’d put on the chair’s arm rest for the lion to use. However, what he did not expect was that as soon as he reached over to leave them, the lion put one hand under through the curtain to pet Mal’s head, smearing some of his leftover cum on the tiger.

Mal grimaced. There were strict rules when it came to touching the personnel, and he would send a message to the puffin later on about this. But for the moment, he’d just smile for the camera and give a kiss on the tip of each shoe as he put them back on the lion’s paws. Finishing the service.

The light in his booth turned green again, and the tiger waited for his phone ring…

And after ten minutes, Mal went back to finish cleaning the chair and his station, using some of the basin water to wash off the cum from his fur.

_ Lions_, he sighed.

Mal knew that this would be a slow day, but he was not prepared for how much. After the lion, he had barely gotten any customers at all, the highlight of his day being when he tended to Rod’s paws, the fox leaving a hefty tip.

He’d make sure to pay him back. Likely with the same coin.

The tiger looked at his phone. He was at the end of his second hour of overtime. He took a deep breath before starting to clean up his station. This time, to end his shift.

He had been so closed to being able to afford that ring, if only…

Mal’s phone started to vibrate. It was Clara, or whoever replaced her at reception.

“Hey, just got a new customer. Your kind. Are you still available?”

He quickly texted her back. Soon, a pair of heavy steps thundered behind him, the light soon turning red again. The curtain parted, two thick gray trunks slipping their way in. Another office worker from the looks of it, but the pants and shoes looked in better state than the lion’s. Mal turned the faucet on, and as he took off the new pair shoes, even if the number of the toes had not been a dead giveaway, these past few months had thought him something about this scent. Not a rhino.

Elephant.

The machine whirred again with a new ticket.

Full service.

The tiger took one long, hard look at the grey soles lying in front of him. This was going to take him a good part of the night. He only hoped that he would not regret it.

Using both hands, Mal grabbed one hefty foot before slowly lowering it into the water. At that size, he could not afford to have them both soak at the same time. Any other day, he would have popped some soap in the basin and washed it there, but not today. Not for this customer.

Elephants tended to be very generous when it came to tips. So, if he wanted to win it big, he’d have to give him A+ treatment.

Once the foot had soaked for long enough, Mal took it out of the water and put it on a towel over his lap. Then, he dropped some liquid soap on his hands, and started to massage the elephant’s foot as he lathered it up. The tiger started with the sole, as was his usual, not just to help the giant relax but also to start evaluating how much footcare he’d need to do next.

For such big and heavy beasts, it always surprised Mal just how delicate their feet were. So soft, his fingers easily sinking deep into the elephant’s sole. It was a miracle that something so squishy could hold so much weight. This one even more so. It was clear that this elephant often took care of his. Even their light scent likely being from the elephant having come directly from work, not a lack of hygiene. Still, there were some parts of the sole which had turned grey and started to harden. He likely spent a lot of time barefoot, which had made them hardened. An elephant thing, Mal thought, since Sleete loved doing the same as well.

Though to be fair, his roommate seemed to be at war with wearing clothes in general. The tiger wondered if that was also an elephant thing…

Once the foot had all been lathered, Mal dried it using another towel, paying close attention to the toes which he rubbed using both palms. Then, he grabbed the other foot and dropped it in the basin, drying what few droplets had splashed on the now dry foot. While the other foot soaked, Mal took out a brush from his bag and used it to start swiping off the dead skin from the one on his lap, revealing the orange sole underneath. Making sure, of course, not to trim it too much, lest that would put much pressure on the elephant’s toes as he walked.

Once he was done, he took a long look at his work. For the toes, trimming the nails was out of the question (thankfully), but he would still be able to file some of the nail away. No cracks unlike the horse from that morning, so he could just go nuts with the filing. As for the soles, they seemed to be fine, but he’d still recommend the elephant to rub some sandpaper on them every once in a while.

Mal put down the foot on his lap back onto the ground and leaned over to start working on the other foot when the elephant stomped on his hand, trapping it underneath. Thankfully, he had not used all his weight, otherwise, the tiger would like to not think about what happened. Still, while he was fine, he was still completely at the big mammal’s mercy.

A long, thick rod coming from behind the curtain. Making its way around his neck, snaking its way up to Mal’s face. The tiger cursed that the Spa’s “No Touching” rule was worded in such a way that it only applied to hands, or similar. The elephant’s pinning him down with one foot, or using his trunk as an impromptu leash and collar, was all technically still within the rules.

“Uhm, Sir—"

The elephant’s trunk became more rigid at this minor show of disobedience, but it softened again once the tiger relented, then slowly, but firmly, pulled the tiger in closer. The elephant raised the foot Mal had just been working on, rubbing the tiger’s face over the still remaining patches of dry skin. Mal looked at the camera, but his only response was the tip of the elephant’s trunk tapping at his shoulder.

It was clear what the elephant meant, he could still feel the rough parts on his sole, and he wanted them gone. And he was going to keep the tiger hostage until he received what he had paid for.

Which, fine. Customer is king and all that.

Mal leaned over to grab some of the sandpaper in his bag, when the trunk went rigid again and pulled the tiger again back into place. The tiger tried to reason with the elephant, trying to tell him that he needed to grab something from his bag, but Mal did not know if the elephant did not hear him, or just did not believe him. Just how else…

Tiger tongues were rough, just like sandpaper. So rough, in fact, that back in the day the tigers of old would use them to strip meat from clean. A proud, feline race.

And today, Mal would use his own to remove pieces of grime and dead skin from some stranger’s foot in the off chance that he’d maybe get some scraps of money.

Mal closed turned towards the sole and closed his eyes. He opened his mouth. And he dragged his tongue around the elephant’s sole.

The trunk around his neck softened, and the chair creaked as the elephant reclined even further back, putting his still wet foot on the tiger’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, Mal lapped and licked. All impurities on the elephant’s sole now resting somewhere in between the tiger’s tongue and his stomach. The foot then flexed forward, toes pointing in the tiger’s direction. Without even waiting for some sort of confirmation, the tiger greedily started to suck the elephant’s toes. Each toe was big enough to fill the tiger’s mouth, so he used both hands to rub and scrub the rest as he nuzzled.

Just as he was going for the fourth one, Mal felt a sudden pressure on his chest pushing him backwards, a loud pop echoing from the toe leaving the tiger’s mouth. Mal wondered if he had done something wrong but soon found the elephant’s other foot being trusted at his face, pushing and shoving at it asking for attention. Just like before, Mal took out his tongue and started to lap, a loud rumble coming from below him.

Not wanting to dirty his foot after a worship session, the elephant had decided to rest his other foot on the tiger’s legs.

Or rather, his crotch.

Mal repeated the process as before, and just like the previous time, as he was nearing the fourth or five toe, he felt that oh so familiar pressure around his neck.

The tiger lost his grip as the elephant lifted him and dragged him closer. Much, much closer than before. Only stopping until the tiger’s face was but touching his junk.

It was a big bulge. Twitching. The trunk let go of its captive, not before giving one last caress on the tiger’s cheek before moving back towards his bulge. The elephant tapped it a couple times before shifting and taking his pant’s button off, snaking its way inside his waistband. The zipper opening as it grew more and more—

The lights turned green again. The service, and Mal’s shit, was over.

The elephant took out his trunk from his pants before quickly zipping them up. Grabbing his own shoes from behind the curtain, before leaving.

Meanwhile, Mal just sat around still in shock from what had almost happened. But the, a sound to his right took his attention.

The tiger looked at his phone and smiled.

“So, how was work today?”

“It was fine,” Mal responded, dropping his bag on the dining table before making his way to the couch and dropping dead.

“Heh, that’s good to hear,” Sleete said from the kitchen. The tiger scooted over so the elephant could take a sit as well, but the sudden shift in weight pulled the tiger right next to his roommate.

Too tired to move again, Mal decided to just rest against the elephant’s bare flesh, glad that he had taken a double bath that day as he’d not want to know how Sleete would react if he smelled him like paws and cum.

Especially another elephant’s…

Cutlery clashed against plate as the elephant went with his dinner. “Did you get enough for Heather’s gift?”

The tiger shook his head. Maybe if someone had given a tip. “Not yet. I guess I’ll just work tomorrow half day to get it, or something.”

“You know, I could lend you some money if you want?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Well, if that’s what you want…” Sleete said in between bites. Mal took a deep breath, trying to relax, only to feel a familiar pull around his neck. “By the way, gotta say, you got a good way with that mouth of yours.”

The tiger’s eyes jerked right open. Mal looked at Sleete. The elephant was not naked like usual. Well, completely naked, that is. Instead, he only had his shirt off. As for below, the elephant was still wearing his office pants and shoes. Not so dissimilar from…

Mal looked at the elephant’s smiling face, who slithered his trunk down to take out a wad of bills from his pocket.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

The tiger snatched the cash, and after counting it, nodded and put it inside his pocket. Sleete smiled, pulling the tiger closer, right on top of his still throbbing bulge, as he started unzipping his pants.

Mal braced himself.

He was not gay, but $20 were $20…

The Forbidden Woods.

Legends abounded about this place, just across the pond. A land untouched by man, locals stayed weary of the area due to the multiple legends about the “little people”, a group of small mythical beings who were rumored to play pranks and even banish whoever decided to cross their territory. Still, even with a law expressively forbidding people from entering, it was not uncommon to see videos propping here and there from several people claiming to have visited the woods.

And today, you’d be one of them.

After mingling with the locals for the day, taping their stories and experiences, you headed off to your hotel; and once night fell, you grabbed your camping gear and ventured off into the woods. You walked a couple hours in until you reached a small clearing. Nothing there except for grass and a few mossy rocks, oddly enough placed in such a way that it looked like a circle. You smiled, setting up your camera just in case, and placing your tent in the middle of the circle.

_ This had to be it, right?_ You thought to yourself as you went inside your sleeping bag. Maybe tonight would be the night, and if not, you still had tomorrow left.

To finally have the opportunity to meet one of these “little people…”

You shivered as the chill air brushed past your skin. You tried to grab your blanket, but it seemed that you had tightened up your sleeping bag too much, as you were unable to move. But as the sun rays started shining on your face, the situation dawned on you. Shouldn’t your tent be protecting you from all this?

Your eyes jerked wide open, showing nothing but the blue sky above, and now awake, you started to focus your senses.

Your mouth ached, a thick metallic taste on your tongue. Your arms ached, almost as if chaffing. And your ears… it was like… was that carnival music?

You turned your head as much to the left as much as you could. There were several strands of rope tying your arm and chest together. Not tight enough to cut your circulation, but still enough to stop your movements. And near your hand, right next to the pylons keeping the ropes all tied together, lay a small weasel in a ringmaster outfit.

“Welcome, everyone, to Le Cirque de la Forêt,” the weasel shouted. “A experience, believe me, like no other you have experienced before.”

A long line awaited to get their tickets, while several bugs and critters crawled up your arm to see the “attractions”.

A group of mice stood on your chest, taking pictures right in front of your mouth, held open by a metal harness that stopped you from talking or harming the visitors in any way. Their kids bounced up and down on your stomach like if it was an inflatable.

Meanwhile, a squirrel tickled your toes with its bushy tail as it moved up and down to serve refreshments to any of the new visitors. Tight knots tied your toes in such a way that you would not be able to wiggle them, the rope also serving as seating for the squirrel’s customers.

On the bottom of your feet, a couple of snakes rested against your soles, sheltering from the harsh sun while still enjoying the warmth radiating from your feet, their thin tongues tickling your feet every so often; while a woodpecker perched on the sides of your feet, pecking at the balls of your feet in an attempt to carve his initials and his date’s. A proof of their undying love.

“Papa,” a small hedgehog shouted right next to your face, “do Les Humains really exist?”

“Of course not,” a bigger hedgehog said, pulling your lip over before throwing the rest of his food down your mouth, wrapping and all. “It’s just a prop.”

You gagged as you swallowed the discarded trash. It tasted like the canned meat you had brought, with small hints of discarded gym socks.

All the while, the weasel continued to rack in on the cash as a result of his latest discovery.

And you silently hoped that he had a way to make a bank transfer, because if you did not get your cut, you’d make sure to show him a different kind of “giant” experience…

“Don’t worry, it’s one hundred percent safe,” the stoat said, a smile on his face trying to reassure you.

Still, you doubted.

When your friend had told you all about his new invention, you could scarcely believe his words.

“This will revolutionize the game industry!” He had promised, and you had to say, if it was true, he would be more than correct.

A new VR/AR chamber, able to completely emulate any kind of environment and game. Every sight, every smell, every feeling… everything would be emulated in such a way that it’d be like if you were all really there. You would be able to explore anywhere, if you could see it? You could get to it. Same thing with NPCs, state of the art AI that would ensure they’d react in natural manner no matter what you decided to do on the spur of the moment.

The limitations would no longer be technical, but how far you as a player decided to go through with it.

It was just like an anime, a comparison that the stoat disliked with every fiber of his being, yet you could easily tell that was from where he got the idea; but still, you had your doubts about it. Could a machine like this truly exist?

Which is why you found yourself now in the center of Finn Tech’s development branch, just in front of the door leading to the chamber.

“C’mon,” the stoat urged. “I promise it’ll be fine,” he said before shoving you inside.

You found yourself inside of a white room, completely empty save for the small rollers holding the treadmills on the ground.

“Are you ready?” The stoat’s distorted voice echoed around the room. You nodded. “Good. How about if we start with something easy…”

You shielded your eyes as lights erupted from the walls. Untextured blocks forming as the lights shone brighter. You closed your eyes, regretting ever accepting the stoat’s offer.

Bird’s chirped all around.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in the middle of a thick forest. Trees swayed with the constant wind. It was a chilly draft, but the thick scarf and cape draped around your coat mail kept you warm. You approached one of the trees and put one hand on its trunk. It was all rough and uneven to the touch.

“So, what do you think?”

You moved your hand up and down the trunk. It was… amazing to say the least. All this fidelity. Not only did the tree felt like it had an actual weight and volume, but the texture of the wood. It was all so lifelike—

You shouted, taking a quick look at your hand. You had caught a splinter in between your gauntlet’s gaps. You asked the stoat if this feeling was normal.

“Oh, yeah, we’re still ironing out some kinks. But don’t worry, it will never be more than you can handle.”

More than you can… and how did he know—

“Anyway, let’s move on.”

The treadmills below you started to move, pushing the scenery behind you. Eventually, you’d find yourself “walking” around by yourself, exploring more of the environment. The berries on the bushes tasted sweet and juicy, giving you an euphoric feeling as you saw your HP recover from your previous “wound.” Lashing at the trees, they crumbled, giving you materials which you assumed you could use later on, making you wonder about the depth of the crafting system. And as your inventory became more and more full, you could feel the added weight on your body, and the slowing down of your movements. Sure, not as bad as if you were carrying a bunch of wood, food, and metal armor in real life, but still enough to immerse you in the experience.

All you needed now was an enemy.

“Right away, boss,” the stoat said, another untextured block appearing in front of you. You asked what type of monster it was. “Don’t know. Used the random enemy generator. But don’t worry, it should be something a low-level adventurer like you can handle.”

At last, the block seemed to take a discernible fate, before the textures loaded in to reveal a small goblin dressed like a jester. Gaining sentience, the goblin stopped T-posing and started dancing around, laughing, while an HP bar appeared above it.

As the goblin danced, you decided to attack, and the whole world came to a standstill. You asked the stoat what had happened, and he again assured you that there was nothing to worry about. You were free to attempt to do anything you wanted, and the computer would run the calculations in the background to determine the outcome.

“Just think of it like DnD,” he said, “And me your Dungeon Master.”

_ All right_.

And thus, started your battle.

You reached over for your sword. The goblin was still frolicking. It would be so easy to attack him now and… But then again, why attack him? He was just having fun. In fact, you could join him and—

You slapped yourself. Just what had happened? You paused the game and looked through the battle logs. Below the entry stating that you were preparing to attack were three simple words.

WILLPOWER ROLL FAILED.

What the…

You asked the stoat if everything was working all right. After all, you had not seen the goblin cast a spell or anything that would require you to make that kind of roll.

“The system says everything’s working as expected. Maybe try again?”

You look at the goblin again, who’s no longer dancing, but just staring at you before he drops to the floor and starts laughing at jokes you don’t understand. Annoyed, you leaned over to put your hand on your sword again.

But as you got lower, you could not help but look at the goblin kicking its feet. You were not a feet person, but they looked so… alluring in their own way. So, you moved closer, and once they were in reach, you kissed them. Over and over again.

The goblin looked at you with glee, just before using his staff to whack you on the face.

You recoiled from the pain, but that was enough to take you out from your trance. You looked through the logs again.

WILLPOWER ROLL FAILED. CRITICAL FAILURE.

NILBOG ATTACKS FOR 1d4 RECOVERY.

Nilbog? Attack for recovery?

You look at your HP, and it’s correct, you had not suffered any damage at all. You call to the stoat to check again for any errors.

“The system keeps saying everything’s okay. Let me check…” after a few moments, the stoat returns. “According to the rulebook, this is a goblin possessed by a trickster spirit.”

That would explain so much. You ask the stoat to take you out from the simulation.

“I can try overriding the system, but the easiest way to end it is to finish the battle.”

You tell him to try. In the meantime, you have a Nilbog to attend, the creature now having its full attention on you.

Every time you so much as think of attacking, something else happens.

You kneel in front of the Nilbog and sing his praises.

Or you lick his soles clean.

Or you start crawling and barking around while he treats you like a dog.

Or…

You spit on the ground, deeply regretting that taste is one of the senses that this machine is capable of emulating. The Nilbog is resting just atop of you, you serving as nothing more than his footstool while he sleeps. You reach for your sword one more time. If only…

You feel the grip of your handle, and not even stopping to wonder if that means you’re allowed attack, you quickly unsheathe your sword, damaging the creature in the process.

The Nilbog jumps back from the ground, his face now no longer as cheerful. You ready your sword and lunge again for a second hit.

And lunge.

And lunge.

And keep on lunging.

The distance between the two of you not seeming to grow any closer. The only thing that seems to be growing is…

Finally, you reach the Nilbog, your sword bouncing from the contact. Unsurprising, as being ankle-height now, your attack would not be that much different from an ant trying to wield a toothpick.

You look high above to the Nilbog. It grins again before lifting one foot and dropping it on you.

Pain courses throughout your whole body, but at least it all should be over soon. However, after the Nilbog stops stomping you, you open the menu and remember.

Nilbogs heal their target when attacking…

Half an hour later, you find yourself buried deep under the ground, the Nilbog leaving you after getting bored. Little by little, the simulation starts fading away while you remain in your position, still reeling in from the pain.

At last, the door behind you opens, and the stoat rushes in.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You are given the situation. But as you start to focus your senses, you start to notice something. Why did the stoat seem so… tall?

“Oh, yeah,” the stoat gives you a nervous laugh. “Remember about those kinks we were trying to iron out…”

You nervously sit down on the toilet. A part of you wants to just leave, but the other is euphoric from the adrenaline rush. The risk of such a public place. Of getting caught. And to your lizard brain, the anonymity of it all.

In fact, this is how you first met your husbear. In this exact same place (well, two floors down), you serviced this random bear from the stall next to yours. When you left, you found him right outside waiting for you, and one thing led to another.

And to commemorate your first anniversary together, you decided to go back where it all began.

You hear multiple steps as the people come in. The two of you had agreed to meet just as the latest Blockbuster had ended. Since the movie theater’s exit was on the top floor, you had scratched off the idea of using the same bathroom where you two first met, but alas, the more people, the merrier after all. Luckily enough for you, these bathrooms also had just what you needed.

You wait impatiently inside your stall until someone enters the stall next to yours. You look at the stranger’s feet. Thin, long, and pink. A rat. Quickly, you place one hand on the loose toilet paper dispenser in case he knows what’s hiding underneath it. You wait for the rat to finish his business and then relax, only for the next pair to appear.

An alligator. A hyena. A crow. An orca... Pairs come in and leave just as quickly. Some of them try playing with your feet using theirs, some even go as far as trying to fiddle with the hole that they know is there, but you remain firm.

At last comes a pair you recognize. A set of big, auburn paws with black pads enter the stall next to yours. You relax. For a second there, you thought that you’d need to cancel the whole thing off before someone called a mall cop, but now your husband was there.

The bear sits down, his left paw stretching in your direction. You move your right paw just next to his. You wiggle your foot a bit, before it gets pinned down by the massive paw across the partition. Leaning down, you rub your palm over the bear’s toes, using your thumb to massage the rough pads underneath. You hear a grunt of approval from the other side, and the dispenser starts shifting to the side.

You scoot over and help the bear pull the dispenser away, not looking inside the hole of course. You wanted to keep the illusion that this was someone you didn’t know. Instead, you wait patiently next to the hole until a thick, pink cock makes its way through. You gulp and kneel in front of your husband’s tool and give it one big lick throughout its whole length before swallowing the thing off.

The bear starts thrusting the whole as you continue working his tool. Hitting the back of your throat more often than usual, you can hear him as your husband bad talks you in hushed tones behind the partition. Not gonna lie, you liked this more dominant side of his. A couple minutes later, his seed floods inside your mouth. A flow so quick, o strong, that you end up spilling some of it on the floor and onto your hubby’s toes.

You give the tip one quick peck before getting on all fours and start licking the remains from atop the bear’s toes, who sits down and lifts his foot so you can lick the rest between his sole and sandal. Once you’re done, you give each paw one last kiss before the bear leaves the stall.

You hurry to put the dispenser back on. After a few minutes, you leave as well, wash your hands, and exit the bathroom. You head on over to the sitting area right in front, looking for your husband, but no matter how much you look, you cannot find any traces of him.

You take out your phone.

“Great mouth as usual ;)”

You blush and reply that you liked it as well, then ask for his location.

“In the sitting area, like we agreed.”

You take one long look again before texting him again.

“I don’t see you either. Are you sure you’re on the first floor?”

Your face turns beet red as you run over to the escalator. Meanwhile, a brown bear whistles as he walks down the shop aisles.

A big grin on his face…

CW: gaslighting, implied murder and gore.

“You are awake.”

The sheep blinked rapidly, the light hurting his eyes, not that the rest of his body was any better.

“Where… am I?”

A beige blob next to him started to shift around. As the sheep’s eyes got more used to the light, the blob started to take on a more concrete shape. It was a bear, dressed completely in white.

“We’re at the hospital. You were in a car crash. Do you remember?” The bear said.

The sheep shook his head, aches and lethargy still coursing throughout his body. “No. To be honest, I don’t remember much at all.”

The bear gave him a warm smile. “We were afraid that was going to be the case…”

The bear explained it all as the sheep continued getting used to his surroundings. The sheep had been driving along the highway late at night three months ago, then swerved out of the road for one reason or another, causing his car to flip over the railing. Thankfully, paramedics were nearby when it happened, so he was quickly escorted to a hospital in the nearest town. Fortunately, there were no major injuries, but the sheep still remained in a coma since then; the bear assigned as his caretaker.

“What about my family? Friends?” The sheep asked.

The bear shook his head. “You were alone in the car when we found you, no IDs or any other papers either. In fact, we were hoping that you’d be the one answering that question for us.” Seeing the blank look on the sheep’s face, he continued, “Is there anything you remember? Like, at all?”

No matter how much he tried, the sheep was completely oblivious. “And what about insurance? I mean, someone has to be paying for my stay here, right?”

The bear blushed and turned his gaze down. “I… I’ve been the one paying it.”

The sheep was at a complete loss of words. The rest of the nurses and his assigned medic came soon after, running a myriad of tests. Leaving aside his memory and the slowness from lack of movement aside, the sheep seemed to be in perfect health. If everything continued like this, he could be discharged the next day.

Having nowhere else to go, the hospital thought it would be a good idea to maybe send the sheep to the nearest police station. See if anyone recognized him, or if there were any missing reports that matched him. That would probably mean having to stay at the station in the meantime, but the bear volunteered to let the sheep stay with him instead.

“A-Are you sure about this?” The sheep asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” The bear opened the door of his car and gently shoved the sheep in the copilot seat before getting in himself.

“It’s just… I don’t want to impose myself even more.”

“Nonsense,” he said, grabbing the sheep’s hand.

The sheep pulled his hand away instinctively but returned it soon after, not wanting to seem rude after everything the bear had done for him. The bear chuckled, turned on his car, and started the drive back to his place.

They arrived thirty minutes later.

The bear unlocked his door before making way for his guest. The sheep entered the bear’s apartment. There were clothes strewn all around and dirty dishes in the sink.

“Sorry about the mess. I was not expecting any visits.”

“It’s okay,” the sheep said, “In fact, I could help you clean up if you want?” With no money or identity of his own, it would be the least he could do to repay the kind ursine.

The bear smiled. “I’d really like that.” The sheep continued to pace around the flat, slowly and warily. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, it’s… it’s nothing.” The sheep could not shake the feeling that there was something wrong.

“It’s alright.” The bear put one arm over the sheep’s shoulder and guided him towards his couch. “A lot of herbivores get uneasy when smelling a carnivore. You’ll get used to it.”

“I guess…” The sheep sat down on the couch and stared at the floor.

“In fact, there’s something I’d like to try,” the bear said, picking the sheep’s attention. “When you had your accident, you damaged your amygdala. With the right stimulus, it… nevermind.” The bear trailed off. “You know what? Forget I said—”

“No!” The sheep closed the gap between him and the bear, grabbing both of his hands. “I want you to finish.” He stared at the floor again. “Please finish.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The sheep nodded.

“Okay, but I need you to trust me. Completely. Is that clear?”

The sheep waited for a few moments before nodding again. The bear grinned.

“Then, I’d like you to smell something.” The bear bent down and took off one of his shoes, then reclined against the arm of the couch as he lifted his foot so that it was right in front of the sheep’s face. “The olfactory bulb is connected to the amygdala. With the right stimulus, it could help trigger a detailed memory.”

The sheep looked at the bear, puzzled. “I… I’m not sure about this.”

The bear lowered his foot, resting it on the sheep’s lap. Dejected. “I thought you said you trusted me.”

To just smell some random stranger’s foot like that? Just who did he… The sheep shook his head. The bear was right. All this time, the bear had been nothing but kind towards him, taking care of him at the hospital. Even offering him a place to stay.

The sheep grabbed the bear’s ankle. “I do.” The bear smiled, but the sheep quickly interjected. “But I’m stopping if this doesn’t work!”

“Of course.” The bear gave the same warm smile he had at the hospital. “You know I would never force you to do something you don’t want.”

And with that, the sheep lifted the bear’s foot, closed his eyes, and then took a deep whiff. His head started to hurt from the scent. Not that it was bad, though it was potent. Rather, every fiber in his body was warning him of danger. Or rather, almost every fiber.

A small part deep inside him felt… safe. And the more he smelled the bear’s foot, the more at ease he felt. Soon, the situation had completely flipped out. He wanted nothing more but to continue sniffing that foot forever. The world outside was scary, but here, underneath the bear’s feet, he was safe.

He felt at home…

The bear let out a small chuckle. He didn’t know if the sheep had always been a footslut, but he had really seemed to calm down after this. In fact, he had even started to sport an erection. The bear wanted to use his other foot to rub it out, but no, that would have to wait for later. After all, he had already waited three months for this…

It had been love at first sight.

When the bear found a car on the side of the road, he had no idea what to expect. He stopped the ambulance, shouting to see if anyone was there. But when he went down, what he did not expect was to find the cutest sheep he had ever seen.

He knew what he had to do. He would take him, heal him, and then…

Still, there was the ram. The sheep’s companion was badly bleeding as well, but with the right treatment, he’d survive the night.

And the bear could not have that.

He tried his best to hide his joy when the doctor said that there would be a potential memory loss, but this was even better that he had hoped for. He would no longer need to find a way for the sheep to stay with him. As he was right now, the bear was the only thing he had.

The bear was his world now.

If he had known that from the beginning, he would not have bothered falsifying the sheep’s death certificate, leaving the ram AWOL in his stead so that he had no other choice but to stay with him. Depend on him.

Neither would he have broken into the apartment the sheep and ram shared together using the keys he found on the car. The bear had taken every measure to erase him from the sheep’s life. Or rather, almost every measure. The bear had started to use the same shampoo as the ram, taking on a familiar scent. The more of him the bear smelled like, the easier the sheep would take to him. That’s why he had also fashioned some clothes using the ram’s wool and leather, the better to hide his scent.

In fact, he was glad that the sheep woke up when he did. His own scent had started to overpower the ram’s, and there was not much left of him in the fridge to continue masking. He’d have to wean the sheep off the ram’s scent to his own fast.

Still, for the moment, he did not mind having the sheep at his feet, still a mix from his scent and the ram leather inside his shoes. Sure, he’d tell the sheep truth one day, but for now he’d work to mold the ship into what he wanted.

“We’re going to the police station, right?” The sheep said in between huffs.

“Of course!”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ve got a lot of work this week.” The bear said, lowering his foot back again to the ground. He enjoyed seeing the look of disappointment in the sheep’s face. “How about this weekend?”

The sheep perked up, completely unaware that no matter how much they tried, there would be no traces of him. No reports. No identity records either.

The bear gave the sheep a big hug. Several thoughts crossing his mind on how to better enjoy his new housewife.

One he’d ensure would not leave unlike all the previous ones…

At long last, you manage to make the down payment of your new home. As you move in, you catch a glimpse of your new neighbor. A lion, his mane all white due to age. He’s mowing his lawn but stops just a short moment to wipe off his sweat using his wifebeater when he sees you. The lion waves at you, a warm, fatherly smile on his face.

You wave back at him, deciding to talk with the older man later on when you have the time.

The next day, you introduce yourself, and lion greets you with open arms into his house. You talk. A lot. And when the time comes, you commend him on his garden.

“Oh, thank you,” the lion says, his tail swishing back and forth behind. Not as fast as a canine would, but you surmise that his words had been completely honest. “Yours could do with some work, though.”

You cannot detect a single hint of malice in his voice, and when you ask the lion if he’d be willing to teach you, he seems to jump at the opportunity.

The next few weeks, you feel yourself bonding with the older cat more and more. While he does not do the work on your yard himself, he guides you all the way through.

“Good job,” the lion says after a hard day of work, ruffling your hair. You thank him and look away, hoping the lion does not notice the effect he has on you.

Just like every other afternoon the past few weeks, you sit on lawn chair on the lion’s yard to drink the night away. You hand the lion another beer, which you just took out from his kitchen.

“Thanks, sport,” the lion says before taking a sip, “You’re so good at taking orders.”

You blush. The lion was starting to get drunk. And whenever he did, the atmosphere always got more tense.

“What college did you say you were in again?”

You correct him for the n’teenth time. You had already graduated.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He takes another sip. “You know, back in the day, this would have never happened.”

You ask him what he means by that. The lion always made off-handed comments like this whenever the two of you were drinking together, only to relent soon after. However, this time, it seemed like the lion felt like talking.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” He laughs and winks at you. You ignore what he’s talking about, but even if you knew what he meant, the lion felt like telling his story anyway. “Back then, anthros and humans went to different schools. Did I ever tell you that my class was the first to mix the two together?”

You shake your head, and the lion continues.

“It was our junior year of college. Our class had been selected for a test, to see if anthros and humans could be together. So, a human joined us for the rest of the term. Unlike us, he was not selected at random, he chose to study at an anthro college himself. The freak.” The lion took another sip from his beer.

“You should have seen him. Small, frail… and more than eager to serve.” He looks at you, his eyes partially closed. “In many ways, just like you.”

You reel back in shock.

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.” The lion lets out a loud laugh. “If things were still like back then, you’d be on the ground serving as my footstool right now. Hell, I’m sure someone like you already has an anthro or two thinking of leashing you.”

You cower at the lion’s words, but he just shakes his can in front of your face. The sign that you need to get the man another beer. You do as commanded.

The lion opens his new can and continues his tale. “Anyway, he was my roommate, you know? So, it did not take him long to learn his place in the food chain. He was to hold my bag as I went to class. Wash my uniform after practice. And rub my feet every night before I went to sleep.” He crosses his legs, his sandal dangling off in such an angle that you can clearly see the lion’s sole. You try to discretely look away as the lion continues his tale, a sneering gaze in his eyes. “At first, it was just me, but I say, why keep him all to myself? So, I had the human start to serve the whole dorm.

“Those were the days.” The lion takes another sip. “Having a human tending to your every want and need. Serving chips and beers when a game was on. Being a footstool when watching TV. Being a doorman, kissing every anthro’s feet as they came into the building. Humans are all like that, always in need of someone or something to serve, and I gave him just that. Sure, his grades started to slip from all that, but nothing that could not be fixed without some… community help.

“He went on to become valedictorian, you know? Thanks to me, and, sure, partly the rest of the dorm as well. And how did he repay me? By ditching me the moment college is over.” The lion empties his can, crushing it before tossing it away. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I could have made him stay if I wanted to. I had trained him well, but I was naïve and stupid back then. I let him go, thinking that I could just nab another one whenever I wanted.”

The lion starts to doze off, and you walk him back to his bed. Just as you’re about to close the doors, you hear the lion mumble in his sleep about all the things he’d have his human do.

Just like every other night…

The next time you meet, you find the lion sitting in his living room. He motions you enthusiastically to join him. You sit on the couch right next to the lion who’s looking at a photo album. In there you see his whole class, a bunch of young and rowdy animals. And right next to the lion, leashed to his paw, is one human. Small and frail, as he said, or at least in comparison with the rest of the group.

But the more you look at him, the more something seems familiar with him…

“Did I ever tell you his name?” The lion asks.

You shake your head.

The lion smiles. He tells you the human’s name, and your eyes go wide open.

Isn’t that your father’s name?

He lifts your chin with his hand and moves your head around to take a good look at your neck, a predatory gaze in his eyes. “You know, I bet his collar would fit you. What say you?”

It was late at night. You should have already been home, at bed even, by now, but life always finds a way…

Just ten more minutes or so, and you should be back home safe and sound. All you need to do is cross the nearby park. During the day, a very pleasant place. Children play, and people walk their dogs there all the time. At night, though…

You hesitate for a moment, maybe you could just take the long way around, but at the same time, you don’t want to stay around here this late. Alone. Going around would take you about thirty minutes instead, so, against your better judgement, you decide to cross the park.

Unsurprisingly, the park is completely empty. You don’t know whether to sign with relief or get even more nervous. Every cracking piece of wood or rattling bush making you double check your surroundings.

You pick up the pace. Only a few more minutes and you can exit this damned place, but just as you’re about to catch sight of the park’s other entrance, something heavy lands in front of you. The clouds part slightly, letting the moonlight shine over the figure. The figure erects itself, both literally and metaphorically.

A werewolf.

You take a few tentative steps back, but who were you kidding? Before you can start your sprint to the gate, the werewolf has you pinned down to the ground. You close your eyes and prepare for your end, but the werewolf’s got other plans for you.

He lashes at your jacket, exposing your delicate flesh, before he dives in and bites you, dragging you away.

When you come to your senses, you find yourself in a secluded wooded area. Whether you’re still in the park or somewhere else, you cannot tell. You grab your shoulder, where the werewolf bit you, and find that the wound has healed already. Does this mean…?

The werewolf appears from behind some bushes, and almost as if on cue, the light on the moon shines over you. You feel the change starting to take place and can’t help but feel grateful to the wolf for sparing you. For choosing you to be a part of his pack.

The werewolf watches. While others struggle during their first change, you don’t. But then again, your change is not typical.

Where others grow thicker and stronger, your frame becomes leaner. Shorter.

Where others grow fangs and claws, your snout remains relatively similar. Your hands softer.

And where others get consumed by bloodlust, you become meeker. Submissive.

You crawl on all fours towards the other werewolf. Not even worthy of being called a shadow of the bigger wolf, you bow your head and start kissing his feet. Basking in the presence of your Alpha.

The other werewolf starts petting your head, before guiding your head towards his mid-section. He had done well in choosing you as the first member of his pack.

After all, every pack needs its Omega…

Markus Albright belongs to RoflLion. If you want to know what happened to his previous interns you can see it here, or read the accompanying story here.

“Mr. Albright will be with you soon.”

The Wolf smiled and nodded at the receptionist, who invited him to take a seat in the meantime. This would be the opportunity of a lifetime. Getting to work at one of the top tech companies in the country (or at least in the city). Sure, the Wolf did not know for sure what it is that the company did, only that it was involved in some kind of research and development.

_ Yeah, maybe I should have prepared better for this interview…_

The Wolf took out his phone, not just to pass the time but to research the company more, when a new email notification arrived. He opened the app, dreading that they had cancelled the interview when he had already dolled up himself and arrived at the premises.

_ So, I suggest you read this message carefully. ‘Cause we’re about to discuss a deal between you and me._

_ You don’t know me, whereas I know everything about you, and you must be wondering how, right?_

_ I installed Malware on a site you visited xxxx.yyy, and while you accessed to watch… well, you get my drift._

_ If you don’t want to suffer the consequences, you will transfer to my account…_

“Another wolf…”

The wolf looked up from his phone. Standing in front of him was a middle-aged Tiger with brown fur and purple stripes, his black hair starting to gray in several parts.

“Are you Mr. Albright?”

“Markus is fine,” the Tiger responded curtly before offering his hand. The Wolf put down his phone before shaking the Tiger’s hand, trying to be as firm as possible, but the older man’s grip easily overpowered him. A fact the Tiger also seemed to have noticed.

Markus used his keycard to keep the door open. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

The wolf picked up his phone, taking one quick glance at the screen. Stupid SPAM, wasting his time. After deleting the email, he went through the doors.

The phone vibrating in his pocket again…

Markus led the way to a small meeting room, the only things inside being a whiteboard, a table, and a couple chairs. He grabbed one of the chairs. “It’s not often that we get cyborg applicants.” The Wolf was surprised, and Markus pointing to one of his eyes. “We manufacture those, you know?”

The Wolf relaxed a little. Surely, they had also run some backgrounds checks on him, so it would not be unusual that they knew this fact about him. It was not just his eyes though; he had so many implants that you could say he was more machine than organic. Pretty much the only thing he had that remained from when he was born was his skin. His touch.

Hell, he even wondered at times if his thoughts were his own or just the result of an algorithm.

“So, let’s get started.”

It was all pretty much the same questions as everywhere else. Why did the Wolf want to be there? What were his strengths and weaknesses? His toughest project… The Wolf had studied them all.

“Uh-huh,” the Tiger replied, his nonchalant face being a clear sign that he was used to all these boilerplate answers. The Wolf was sweating bullets as the Tiger browsed his resume. “So, it says here that you have no experience. Have you ever LiCKeD a TiGEr’S FeET?”

The Wolf went all doe-eyed. “Uh… could you repeat that question?”

The Tiger sighed. “I said, have you ever thOUgHt aBOuT SUCkiNG my BaRBeD COCK?”

He had, but what did that had to do with the interview?!

The Tiger rubbed his eyes and walked over to the whiteboard. He wrote a few lines on the board before turning towards the Wolf and throwing him the marker. “Find. The. Errors.”

The Wolf nodded and walked towards the board. Written on it were a few simple lines of code. After analyzing it for a few seconds, he noticed the first error. But just as he unscrewed the marker’s cap, he heard something behind him.

It was moaning. And panting, quite feminine as well. The scent of cum started filling his nostrils.

He quickly turned back.

But there was nothing. Just an annoyed Tiger looking back at him. “Yes?”

“I-It’s nothing.”

His sight flashed for a few seconds, showing him the video of a female wolf getting railed by an older Tiger. The sound and scent coming back to him.

“Are you sick?” The Tiger asked. Everything seemed to be back to normal again. “You’re sweating a lot, maybe we can reschedule if—”

“I’m fine,” the Wolf answered, “I just… could I use the bathroom?”

“Sure.”

Markus walked the Wolf to the bathroom, which thankfully was just right next to their meeting room. The Wolf entered a stall, not knowing what to do. A few seconds later, he started to taste something. It was like dirty socks, unwashed for several months by now.

His phone started to vibrate again.

The Wolf looked at his notifications.

_ I warned you._

And below it, a text message from one of his friends.

_ Dude, WTF_. Followed by a link.

The Wolf gulped. However, the link looked legit, so against his better judgement, he clicked on it.

The app opened up, and in the screen was… him. In the bathroom. Looking at his phone.

Someone had hacked into his visual feed and was streaming it for the whole world to see. On the right, Chat was having a riot now that he had found out about it. Latest redeem? Put something on his taste sensors. And on the left, a small camera showing a Hyena, who had inserted some kind of gadget inside a pair of well-worn shoes.

Another notification.

_ Do we have a deal?_

“Hey, is everything all right?” It was Markus, his voice coming from both behind the stall’s door and the phone’s speakers. The Wolf quickly tapped at his phone before leaving the stall. “You were there for quite some time.”

The Wolf tried to reassure the Tiger. It had just been the stress from the interview, but he felt better.

Meanwhile, his nose still smelt like ripe ass, from the last redeem before the stream was officially over…

Half an hour later, the interview was over.

“I have to say, you’ve impressed me with your interview.”

The Wolf smiled.

“But…” Markus tapped something on his phone before showing his screen to the Wolf, “IT has detected that you were misusing the company’s resources. Seemingly, a stream during your interview, and also watching some other stream when you went to the bathroom.”

The Wolf’s smile faded.

“You know, we don’t tolerate that kind of behavior here. But…” Markus looked at the Wolf from head to toe. “I think we might be able to make an exception.”

“So, that means…”

“Welcome to the company!”

Markus led the Wolf back to the entrance, watching as he left the premises. He was a good kid, lazy, but he could still get some use out of him. And besides, as the small twitches under his feet reminded him, there were other “positions” the Wolf could fulfill if needed to…

It had been a day like any other. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, but just as you made your way back home from work, everything changed.

A black limo stopped on the corner, blocking your path. An unusual sight, yes, but not much to write home about. However, when the Doberman got out of the driving seat and looked at you, comparing you against the picture in his paw…

“G’evening. Mr. Kingsley would like a word with you.”

You said that you didn’t know any Kingsleys and prepared to go around the car when the doors at the back opened, several similar dogs appearing from inside the car and surrounding you.

“I’m afraid you have no choice.”

The Doberman signaled to his brethren, and they… gently persuaded you to get inside the car. Three other dogs sat in front of you, while two more flanked you on your seat. The Doberman then got back on the driver’s seat and started the limo before whispering on his headpiece.

“The package has been secured.”

The dogs drove you to the tallest building in the rich part of town. The two dogs flanking you and the Doberman got out of the car and escorted you inside, heading straight for the elevator. The Doberman took out his keycard and then punched the button leading to the top floor. A few seconds later, the doors parted to reveal a lavish office. Even one piece of furniture worth more than you would be able to make in your whole life. The dogs escorted you further in the room.

At the back, a Ruby Dragon sipped on a glass of wine as he looked outside the window. The Doberman coughed, causing the Dragon to look in your direction. A smile appeared on his face. He put his glass on a nearby table before sitting at the nearby desk.

“So, you finally came,” he pointed at the two guards, who left the room leaving only you, the Doberman, and the Dragon alone. “Oh, sorry, I guess this is all new to you. Let me introduce myself, my name’s Alaric Kingsley, and I believe you recognize this?”

The Dragon opened a drawer from his desk, before making his way over to you. He grabbed one of your hands and deposited something you’d thought you’d never see again.

A few years ago, there had been a campaign to upload your consciousness to toys, making them better react to any situations the owners put them through. Out of a whim (and a dare from your friends), you had decided to go through with it. Now, the campaign had been all for fun, and by volunteers, so you had no idea until now that anyone had bought your model. And it was definitely your model, the dolls having an almost identical resemblance to you.

“An interesting toy, don’t you think?”

You examined the doll further. There were tears here and there. The articulated limbs no longer seemed to bend. And discolorations all around, some dark spots resembling footprints. Others… whiter. It was clear that the doll had been used thoroughly ever since it was bought.

The Dragon’s musk permeated all over the doll. (Un)Fortunately, there was no way to put its consciousness back into you to know what it had gone through.

Alaric turned around and grabbed his glass again, putting it on his lips, before noticing you again. “Oh, where are my manners?” He took the doll from your hands and handed you the glass. As you drank, Alaric dangled the doll from one foot. “Shame that this don’t last that long, don’t you think?”

The Dragon dropped the doll onto the ground before stomping it on the way to you. The poor doll’s limbs flying all around the room.

“Which is when I told myself, why settle for a toy when I can have the real deal?”

Alaric took the glass away from you, drinking its contents away before tossing it to a corner of the room—thankfully, the padded carpet softened the fall enough, so it did not break. Meanwhile, the Dragon walked back to his desk and sat on his chair.

“With me, you’ll no longer have to worry about anything. Rent? Food? Work? Money? It doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of everything. All I expect in exchange…” The Dragon grinned. “… are some services from your part. So, we have a deal.”

A statement, not a question.

The Dragon propped his bare feet over the desk. You looked back at the Doberman, who shoved you towards the desk. Ever since Alaric Kingsley had set his mind on you, you were his, and that was the end of it. So, slowly, you made your way over to the desk and looked at Alaric in the eyes.

“Go on,” he said. A soft tone, sure, but you could tell it had been a command, nonetheless.

You got on your knees, thanks in no small part to the Doberman pushing you down and gave his soles one long kiss. The Dragon smiled. Not just at his new acquisition, or your display of obedience, but rather at him looking forward to see how the doll’s reactions compared to your own.

Hoping that you’d take longer to break, lest he’d find himself in need of a new toy…

“Don’t worry, bud.”

“It’s going to be so much fun!”

As if…

When your new coworkers told you about this “prank”, you didn’t know what to think about it. Taping a camera to the underside of your boss’ desk. You could easily be sent directly to Human Resources for sexual harassment, if not downright fired.

“Believe me, he’ll never notice,” the coyote had said. “Besides, he always walks to the nearby mall for lunch and then takes his sweet time in the bathroom. You’ll have an hour and a half, maybe two. Easy peasy.”

After several days of badgering, you finally agreed to pull the prank. You really needed to learn how not to be peer pressured as much…

Everything had seemed to go well at first, waiting for about twenty minutes after your boss had left to enter his office, quickly making your way to his desk. You took a photo of where everything was located, in case you needed to put anything again back in place, before going under his desk. You took a small whiff. The carpet must have been there for a long time to have soaked up that much of the wolf’s paw scent. Regardless, you took a deep breath and held it in as you started setting up the camera.

Just as you were about to finish, you heard the door lock coming unlatched.

“Give me a moment.”

It was your boss.

Not knowing what to do, and not wanting to be found out with a camera underneath your boss’ desk either, you move deeper in. And just in time, as you see the chair retract as your boss sits down, his crotch and legs filling your view.

“It sure is burning hot out there.”

The wolf uses the tip of one shoe to remove the other, a loud knock coming out when he flicks it over and it crashes against the back of the space under the desk. He repeats the motion with the other shoe, and with both sockless paws exposed, he starts to stretch. You spread your legs and move as far back as you can, to avoid getting in the paws way, relaxing only a bit once he pulls his legs back.

“Yeah, I’m back, babe. How’s everything going?”

He crosses his legs, lifting one paw to your head’s level. Did it increase the smell? Not really, since you already had both steamy shoes right next to you, and his other sweaty paw just an inch or so away from your crotch, and you could almost swear you could feel his claws whenever he moved his toes.

“Oh, that’s great. Maybe you can tell me about it later?... Yeah, I love you too.”

The wolf turns off his phone, and you hear as he sets it on the desk right above you. You breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe that that’s over, he would go back to his routine and—

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. Got some family matters to attend. Is everything ready?”

The wolf opens one of the side drawers and pulls out what looks like a thoroughly used tennis ball. He takes it up for a few seconds before lowering his arm again. The ball looking wet.

“I’m glad that you all could join this meeting…”

The ball’s canine breath scent joined the paw musk you had been smelling for the past five minutes.

“And when it comes to the SEA accounts…”

You started to zone out the longer the meeting went on, only taking care to not slouch as much so your boss would not touch you with all his tapping. Meanwhile, your boss just fidgeted around with the tennis ball. Passing it from side to side, squeezing it, until he ends up dropping it. The ball bouncing on the carpet and landing behind one of your legs.

You gulp as your boss starts fiddling with the empty air. He lowers his crossed paw, dragging it around the carpet. You quickly reach over behind you, but it’s all too late.

It seems the wolf has found what he had been looking for.

You wince as he steps on your testicles.

“On the other hand, the AMS region…”

The wolf continues with his fidgeting. Stepping on your balls from time to time, kicking them from side to side, and occasionally, “rolling them up” along your crotch. Meanwhile, you put both hands over your mouth as you try to calm your breath.

If only he left you alone for a few seconds, you could switch them with—

“Wait, a moment please.”

The wolf pulls his chair back, before peeking inside. Looking at you straight in the face.

“Hey, did you send the report about Finn Tech already?”

You shake your head.

“Well, then go get your computer and get on it.” He pulls his chair even further back, allowing you to get out. “Yeah, sorry about that…”

You leave and hurry to your cubicle, ignoring your coworkers asking you how the prank went out. With computer in hand, you return to your boss’ office, the wolf pulling his chair back again to let you go back underneath. Once there, he puts one paw again on your crotch.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sending you that info ASAP.” The wolf ends the meeting. He breathes a sigh of relief before finally allowing himself to slouch on his chair. You continue working on the report when you notice a small movement.

The wolf unzips his pants, his drooling cock hovering just right next to your face. The wolf’s scent growing stronger and stronger.

“Looks like today’s going to be an all-nighter…”

You arrive home early from work. Normally, you’d go straight to your room or have some dinner, but since your roommate had not arrived yet, it’s your turn to go through the mail.

After sorting through all the bills, you pay attention to the big package at the entrance. It does not say who it’s for, so you assume it’s your roommate’s. You make your way to their room when the box falls, tearing the packaging open.

A shrink ray…

You pick it up. This had to be a toy, right? No way those exists.

Still, what if…?

You had never told anyone this, much less your own roommate, but you had always wanted to be small. Several thoughts cross your mind: all the adventures you could have, all the places you could explore. The box says that it shrinks all organic matter, so that should include all your clothes as well. Not to mention, if your roommate wanted to shrink himself, they would not be a mean giant.

Right?

You take out the shrink ray from its box and fiddle with the settings.

Pliable.

24 hours.

You point the gun at yourself. This should not work, but even if it did, you should still be safe for the next day.

And thus, you pull the trigger.

Several colored lights flash from the gun’s tip, making your body start to tingle all over. And before you know it, you find yourself free-falling.

Right into the opening of one of your own rubber boots…

You land with a heavy thud on the sole, the familiar warmth of a hard day of work all around you. So far, aside from being trapped in your own footwear, everything seemed to be fine, though you don’t know whether to chalk that to the gun’s settings or the bouncy surface. You wonder if you can somehow tip the boot over, not feeling like spending the next 24 hours trapped there, when you hear the door open.

“Are you there?”

It’s your roommate.

The ground quakes as the giant takes each step. From the opening just above you, you can see the Labrador take off their bag as they look around the room. Then, their gaze turns to you. Or rather, in your direction. To the giant dog, nothing more than just a random pair of discarded boots in the middle of the living room. The dog quickly turns their head from side to side before leaving. You hear a door open.

“Must have left…”

The dog returns and crouches down, lifting the boot you’re in and making you tumble down into the toe section. You bounce around with each step, thankful that you had made yourself pliable as otherwise you’d be all bruised all over from the constant hits. At last, the dog stops, and you sign in relief.

Or at least, that is until you see your roommate’s snout poking inside. Their nose touching the insole. The labrador takes a deep whiff, their tongue lolling out of their maw.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.”

What the… Did they always sniff your used shoes?

The boot tilts as the dog’s breathing gets harder and faster, pushing you closer to Lab’s panting maw. Having no where to hold onto, you just bounce around as the boot jerks around, until at last, you end up rolling down the dog’s tongue, into their maw, and heading just straight to their throat.

The dog coughs and you find yourself getting hurled onto a soft surface. Still sticky from the dog’s saliva (and other fluids from where you landed), you try to stand up. You’re on the dog’s bed, right next to their paws, and as you look up, way past the Lab’s naked crotch and chest, you gaze at the Lab’s shocked face.

“I-I… this is not… I can explain!” The Lab quickly shouts, their voice booming harder than ever. But then, their voice softens as they start grasping the situation. “Wait, what happened to you?”

You tell them about the package and how you shrank yourself (by accident, of course). The dog grabs you with their right hand, making sure to not hold you too tight, before making their way to the living. They set you on the table as they get on all fours and look around the floor. Eventually, they find the shrink ray.

They sit on the couch. “Well, at least it’s only for 24 hours.”

You demand them to turn you back. One thing is to be small on your own terms, and another, being small around someone else. Especially when that someone is aware of you.

The Labrador looks at the gun and then at you. They smile. “And why, would I do that when you look so cute like this?”

Just what you had feared.

You promise them that you’ll forget about what they did to your boots, and that they can even smell your feet all they want. If they turn you back again, that is. The Labrador ponders about it for less than a second, before giving you a mischievous look and grabbing you with their free hand. They pull you towards their snout until you’re pressed right up against their wet nose. They take a deep whiff, and you try to put some distance between the two of you, one of your feet even going inside the dog’s nostrils as a result.

They moan.

After they’re done, they pull their hand back, setting you on the table once more. Their face beaming with joy. “Just kidding.” You pout, and they start to pat you using one thumb.

The dog continues looking at the shrink ray’s settings until you’ve calmed down. “Hey, what do you say about staying like that for the rest of the week?”

You stare daggers at the dog, who backs down. You demand to be grown again, and now it’s the dog’s turn to pout. They look at the floor, shifting their feet around.

“Yeah, I understand.” The Lab says. Then, their ears perk up and their tail starts to wag. “Say, why don’t we go out for some walkies before making a decision?”

And before you can say anything, the dog grabs you and drops you inside your other boot. Waving at you from outside, they then put their paw in. The pressure increases as they stand up, your body becoming flatter and longer.

A shape more than befitting for the dog’s new insole…

CW: gross, slob behavior.

You never thought much about open-concept cubicles. Sure, you missed some of the “privacy” that came from being in of a cubicle farm, but as long as you were not near a hallway (or your boss), everything was fine.

And then you met him…

You met the boar not even an hour in after getting hired. Your boss walked you to a small workspace at the back of the office. The boar was snacking on some chips, but as soon as he saw the two of you, he offered you his hand. You tried to hide your displeasure, but with your new boss waiting, you had no choice but to shake the boar’s still greasy hand. He noticed it later and released you, you trying to subtly wipe off the grease from your hand while hoping that this would be the last time you saw him. Unfortunately, your boss then mentioned that the boar was going to be your mentor for your trial period, and you just looked as the boar licked his fingers clean, giving you a smile after sensing your gaze.

That should have been a clear sign to run away and never come back. Instead, you decided to give the boar a try. After all, how bad could it be?

And the answer was: terrible.

He’d arrive late every morning without fail, taking his shoes off as soon as he got to your shared cubicle and putting them right behind your seat, since it was closer to the exit. So, you had a first-row seat to the boar’s scent, not that the rest of his body was any better. “Boars don’t sweat.” So, he did not see the point in showering as often. Not even to help with his athlete’s foot, the boar scratching his feet on his footrest throughout most of the day. He'd also continue to snack all day, cackling at whatever video he had decided to watch at the time, and showering you in spit and food whenever he turned your way to force you to watch this video that “you absolutely must watch.”

You complained to your boss. Not only about the boar’s poor hygiene, but because he was not a good mentor. After nearly a month of being under him, you knew as much of the business as when you started. But no matter how much you complained, your boss did not listen.

“He’s been in the company for a long time.”

Just that. Time. Not performance, or charm, or knowledge. Just time.

Eventually, you had enough and decided to take this one step upwards, and you messaged HR. That was in the middle of last week, and yesterday, you finally got a response back, asking you to meet with them the next day.

Today things were going to be different…

You arrive at the meeting room on the dot.

“Come in.”

You open the door, seeing a female peacock in a business suit. And in front of her, him.

“Please, take a seat.”

She points to the chair next to the boar, and you comply. All the time, wondering what he was doing here. After all, shouldn’t this all be confidential? Sure, the boar would be involved eventually, but you hoped to at least be able to present your case by yourself.

“I think we all know why we’re here.” You nod at the peacock’s words, who turns to address you. “For the past month, we’ve been notified of a bullying campaign from your part against one of your coworkers.”

Your eyes go wide open. You look at the boar, who nods at the peacock’s words. You open your mouth, but the peacock interrupts you shortly after.

“Just because we’re called ‘Human Resources’ don’t think for a moment that we will be biased in your favor.” You bite your tongue, and the peacock continues. “Anyway, this situation cannot—will not—continue. Usually, we’d have terminated you on the spot, but after speaking with your supervisor and the gentleman here, we’ve reached a solution. From today on, you will report to this man directly. No ifs. No buts. What he says, you do, or you’re fired.”

You look at the boar. He smiles at you, making your bile rise.

“Are we clear?”

You turn towards the peacock and give a dejected nod.

“Splendid.”

The boar thanks the peacock for her time and, after she leaves, turns towards you. “I hoped that things would not need to go this way, but here we are.” He wraps an arm you, pulling you in closer, your head right next to his armpit. “You can take the rest of the day off. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it with the boss.”

You thank the boar and walk to the exit. Just before you leave, you look back, and the boar waves at you. Perhaps this would not be as bad after all.

Oh, how naïve you were…

You arrive at the office at the same time as always. And as usual, the boar’s not there yet. So, you turn on your computer and start going through the day’s tasks. Yesterday’s, that is, as it seems like the boar did not do any of them during your day off.

An hour and a half later, the boar arrives.

“Hey there!” He says, standing right next to your chair.

You turn around and greet the boar, who leans over the wall as he starts making small talk. You talk, or rather, he talks about the game last night, how much he drank, this cute girl he met, etc. Meanwhile, you just nod, counting the seconds until you’re done.

“Anyway, time to get to work.” Finally. You try to turn your chair around, but he stops you with one hand. And with the other, he points at his shoes. “Take them off.” He orders. You look at him, unsure of what to do. “Remember, boars don’t sweat. Do you want me to get a heatstroke?”

Reluctantly, you bend over and take off both of the boar’s shoes and place them right next to him. Behind your seat. As usual.

The boar walks to his chair and turns on his computer before sitting down. “Hey, you,” he barks. You turn your chair to better look at him. The boar points down, under his desk. “Get in there.” And before you can say anything, he quickly adds, “You don’t want me to call HR so soon, do you?”

You sigh and do as you’re told. While crouching under the boar’s desk, you notice that his footrest is no longer there. You sit, taking its place, before the boar takes his on his chair. He presses his right foot on your chest and starts rubbing it on your shirt.

“My foot’s kinda itchy. Be a dear and scratch it for me, will you?” The boar winks at you.

You grab the boar’s bare foot and start running your nails throughout his sole.

“Yeah, that’s the spot.” He says, before putting his other foot on your leg and starts rubbing his sole against your pants.

Slowly, pieces of dead skin start covering your clothes, your hair, and even your mouth.

“You’re a natural at this, you know?” The boar says, taking out a bag of chips from his bag as he starts watching his video of the day. Meanwhile, you continue scraping at one foot, while his other one has moved on to know rest (and rub) at your crotch.

“You know, I read that email you sent.”

You stop treating the boar’s foot.

He continues. “Something about having bad B.O. and needing to wash myself more often.” He raises his left foot to your cheek and caresses you with it, his toe playing with your lips. “Well, if that’s what you really think, then go ahead. Clean them.”

The boar’s toe becomes more forceful and enters your mouth. You want to escape, but he pins you down with his right foot. He wags one finger and reminds you that this is what you had to do if you wanted to stay at the company.

So, with no other choice, you open your mouth and start sucking, licking, and kissing the boar’s feet.

“Attaboy,” the boar says, before going back to “work.”

And thus, the weeks went by. Each day, it would be the same routine. You’d take the boar’s shoes off and scratch his feet. You’d also rub the boar’s shoulders. Prepare the lunch for his break. And stay at the entrance of the bathroom to help wash and dry his hands.

No matter what the boar asked, you did. At first, because you had to. And then, because you wanted to. You stopped paying attention to yourself, your life revolving on nothing more than the boar. You’d complain whenever the boar asked you to lick his feet or pits clean, not because you didn’t want to do so (in fact, you loved to do so), but because that would mean smelling more of you and less of him.

Two months later, your trial period was over. Your boss arrived at the cubicle you two shared.

“Am I interrupting something?” He said, you at the boar’s feet.

The boar turned his chair around to face your boss, his left foot still on your lap. “Not at all.”

“Well,” your boss turns towards you, “I have to say, you were not what we expected.”

You stop rubbing the boar’s feet. Was that it? Would you need to go? Leave your boar?

“So, what’s happening to the kid?” The boar asks.

“Normally, we’d fire them,” your boss replies, turning towards the boar, “but it seems like your performance has improved with them here, so I convinced management to keep them. Though in a slightly different position...”

You’re happy. The two of you. The boar thanks your boss for this and he leaves, leaving the two of you alone. He picks you up and puts you on his lap. As the boar’s new personal assistant, he’d teach you all new ways in which you could serve him. Both in and out of the office.

And you couldn’t be happier.

All the boar asked in return was to be entitled to your paycheck, something which you agreed immediately.

After all, how could you not? He was the one doing all the work for both of you.

The boar gave you a kiss before placing you down at his feet, where you belong.

Before taking out a bag of chips and putting on his video for the rest of the day…

Beware the Black Moon, and prepare for the Winds of Doom.

So, the old teachings went.

The Council tried to keep the population the calm, dismissing the Elders teachings as nothing more than old wives’ tales.

“There is nothing to worry about,” they said. “As you can see, the sun shines brightly through the sky box, and even if all these rumors about the ‘Black Moon’ were to be true, we have water and food aplenty. We will survive.”

The crowd cheered for the most part, but there were still some who doubted them. Pockets of society started to prepare and consulted the Elders.

“It is long due,” the Elders said. Every time civilization reached a certain point, the Black Moon would come. Deluges would happen, followed by periods of intense heat and drought. Everything would as it was before, resetting mankind to their primordial and pure self before the cycle started again.

So it had been, and so it shall ever be.

At last, situations came to a standstill. Those believing in the teachings stormed one of the Council’s rallies. Demanded support. Explanations. And above all, accept that the recent sightings had all been true.

The Council, as always, denied everything, but then the sky darkened. And in the middle of the sky box, the Black Moon appeared once again. Heavy gusts of winds tore apart buildings, and people huddled each other.

The End Days were upon them.

Meanwhile, up above, a college student winced his nose. He could ignore it no more, his gym shoes were starting to smell, even getting complaints from his RA while wearing them. As much as he liked the Nano civilization living inside them, he’d have to wash his shoes.

Just like he did every other fourth month or so…

You hesitate for a moment as you reach for the door, the painted eye in the frosted glass seeming to judge you.

** Private Investigator** is emblazoned in bold letters above it.

You had it all. A rich fiancée, a prosperous career, fame, and money, and who cared if the latter three were all a result of the first one? The point is, you had your life set, so you had nothing to fear. With enough power, you could do anything you wanted. Make people believe anything you wanted.

Which was also probably the main reason you had agreed to come here in the first place after receiving that mysterious letter.

“Come to the following place,” followed by an address, time, and day. “I’ll be waiting.”

You debated whether this was a trap, but after looking up the place, it seemed legit. Thus, you decided to come. You didn’t tell your fiancée where you were going, as this didn’t concern them.

Oh, God, this better not concern them…

You open the door. Sitting at the desk in the middle of the cramped room is a tan Bloodhound. He puts out his cigar before addressing you.

“You’re finally here.”

He points at the chair in front of him, and you take a seat. The Bloodhound offers you something to drink, but you cut him off. You don’t want to spend one more second than you need to in this filthy place dealing with him. Annoyance is starting to show in the dog’s face.

“As you wish.” The Bloodhound takes out a thick folder from the top drawer of his desk and throws it your way. “A couple months ago, I was contacted by someone to keep tabs on you. Look for any dirt. See if you’ve been… faithful.”

You open the folder. Inside, several compromising pictures and lists on who you met, where, and for what. You stand up. You shout. You curse. And then, you take every picture, every piece of paper, and shred it into a million pieces.

“Don’t bother, those are obviously copies.” The Bloodhound grins. “Now, I could go back to my client, show them what I found, but before that, I wanted to see what you had to offer.”

You command the dog to spit what he wants, but he just wags his index at you.

“Nuh-uh. You come here—to MY office—insult me, and now expect me to help you? No, with all I’m doing for you, what you need to do first is show me some proper respect.” The Bloodhound reclines, propping up his paws on his desk “Now, go on, show me why you’re worthy of my time.”

He lights up another cigar and starts inhaling. You sit down. Just what does he want you to do? Then, just as the Bloodhounds breathes out a puff of smoke, which crashes onto his plump toes before drifting onto your face, you get what he means.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. If this is what it takes…

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaning in to grab one of the dog’s paws, before planting one kiss on its top. You look at the dog from behind the appendage, who’s looking at you with an amused look on his face.

“Go on.”

You sigh, repeating the same thing on each of the dog’s paws. On his sole. On the arches of his paw, and on each and every single one of his paw pads. And just as you think you’re done, the dog puts his other paw over his ankle, right next to your face.

And you repeat the motions all over again.

With each kiss, you apologize to the dog for the way you treated him. You thank him for granting this opportunity to save your neck. You reaffirm how much of an honor it is to worship his paws.

Soon, the kisses turn into licks. The licks into sucks. And the sucks into kisses again.

No inch on the dog’s paws goes by without four, or maybe five passes of your ministrations.

You stop, your mouth starting to dry up. The dog offers you some whisky, more than half the bottle (and the cigar) gone by that point. You ask if this has been proof enough of your intentions.

“Ooh,” the Bloodhound gasps, “I meant it as in, giving me some money. But I guess that works too?” You try to contain your anger, knowing what’s at stake. “Anyway, sure, why not? So, I guess we can talk now about how much this information is worth to you.”

You look at the dog dumbfounded.

“Hey, I said that you needed to prove me you were worth my time, not that this would cover up payment.”

The dog smiles as you take out your checkbook.

Add another zero.

And another.

And…

At last, the Bloodhound nods and hands you a USB stick. According to him, it’s the originals, and he has no more copies left. Just in case, he allows you to check his computer and office if you want, and after not finding anything, you leave.

You arrive home, brushing your teeth when your fiancée arrives. You give them a kiss as a welcome, and they go to the bedroom to change your shoes.

“Oh, by the way,” your fiancée shouts from the other room, “there was a letter for you in the mail today.”

You head on over to the entrance table and glimpse a familiar paper and handwriting. You open the envelope. Inside is a picture of you kissing the Bloodhound’s paws and scribbled behind it is a date and the same time as today’s.

“I’ll be waiting…”

CW: light gore.

You put on your mitts before you leave the helicopter, its spinning blades scattering the snow around you.

“Are you sure you about this?” The Walrus shouted. Your team had hired him to lead the expedition, begrudgingly that is. No one else dared to travel this far to the north, but your captain had somehow managed to convince him. “There’re a few hours of sunlight yet. We can still go back.”

“Negative,” the Gorilla said, his voice barely a whisper in such an open space. He then turned against you and the party and shouted. “Is everyone ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. We march forward.”

The party started their way forward, though as the Walrus turned back, you could have sworn you had heard him say something.

“Your funeral…”

Your company had been assigned to this area in the Arctic circle. Far away from any civilization, yes, but if you could manage to set a new outpost, things would greatly improve in the war. Still, a part of you wondered if all this was really needed. Why you of all people?

Why your company?

“Are you alright?” The voice of the Husky next to you damped by your heavy mufflers. Ever since you had enlisted, the Husky had been there for you, becoming your first friend, and you had to admit, even your crush.

You hesitated for a moment and then shook your head. You admitted that you’d rather not be here, but orders were orders.

“I know what you mean,” the Husky said.

Leaving the inhospitable conditions aside, you had to admit, the way the locals talked about this place made you shiver. Not the legends about monsters, of course, but knowing about how many people had made this exact same trip and perished? And knowing that if you ever got sick or injured, none of the locals would be any wiser, and even if they did, they would not venture to help any of you? That was the scary part.

You continued walking, the vague shapes of your companions in front of you getting even more blurry as the day went on. You had never experienced such a heavy snowstorm in your life; it was almost as if even nature itself wanted to keep you away of this place.

“Halt!” The Gorilla shouted, turning back towards the team. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue tomorrow.”

“There is no ‘tonight’,” the Walrus replied. “If we camp now, it could be weeks if not months before we see sunlight again. Let’s continue. Or better yet, return.”

“In this weather? No way. We’re staying.”

The Walrus shrugged, and you started to divide in pairs.

The Walrus and Gorilla would be tenting together. The Mink and her assistant of the research team would bunk together as well. This left only the privates, and to your luck, you would get to spend the night with the Husky.

You somehow managed to set up the tent despite the strong gales. The Husky made his way inside while you looked around. Behind the curtains of frost and snow, the only thing you could see was the faint outline of a yellow orb high above in the sky.

_ “_Weird,” you said to yourself.

The Husky peeked out from inside the tent. “Hey, are you coming?”

You nodded before making your way inside, a nagging feeling still in the back of your mind.

_ Shouldn’t it already be night by now?_

It was warm inside. You took off your jacket before sitting next to the Husky, who put both paws on your lap. You started to rub them without being asked. This was your routine as usual, after all.

And besides, in this weather, you appreciated getting to share some of his warmth.

“Tough day,” he said, and you nodded, the hardships of it softening under your hands. You’d remind him later to return the favor. “Captain says we should arrive to our destination tomorrow during the day.”

_ Day_. If the Walrus was right, it wouldn’t matter when you arrived. It would still be dark, making your mission more difficult than it had to.

Sensing your apprehension, the Husky leaned and grabbed your boot. He was about to untie your laces when a loud crash boomed around.

Without thinking, the Husky leapt out of your tent. Not having a winter fur coat of your own, you hurried off to put on your jacket before heading off outside.

The snowstorm was raging just as hard as before. You put on your googles and looked around. The tent to the right of yours was open, the Bear and Reindeer nowhere to be seen. In front, your Captain’s tent had been torn open, the Walrus cowering right next to it.

As for the Mink’s…

You made your way over, thumbling and falling to the ground once you took a few steps forward. After taking a quick look, you made your way to the tent. The Husky, Bear, and Reindeer were already there, while the Gorilla was off to the side trying to call HQ. You approached the group, if the Captain’s tent was in bad state, you did not know how to describe this. A red puddle coalesced below the remnants of tent, and you did not need to lift the cloth to know what had happened.

Did an animal attack you?

You confirmed your suspicions with the Husky before making your way back up, not remembering there being such a steep incline when you set up camp. But then again, it was difficult to tell in this weather.

The Walrus cowered and kept repeating the same word over and over.

_ Jötunn_.

You approached the Walrus and tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump.

“No, stay away!” After noticing it was just you, he calmed down just a little. “Sorry, I thought—”

He was interrupted by the Reindeer shouting from the edge of the incline. The Reindeer slowly made his way to you when a white object flashed in front of you. The Reindeer nowhere to be seen.

“Wait, what just happened?!” The Bear shouted, climbing from the incline with the Husky.

“It’s here!” The Walrus screamed, running off into the distance until his voice could no longer be heard.

Not that it faded.

It just… stopped.

“We need to get out of here,” the Gorilla barked, just having rejoined the three of you.

“Yes, Sir.”

You all ran to your tents and packed up the essentials. As you started the trek again, you took one last look to the research team’s and the Captain’s tent. That incline. It reminded you of… but that made no sense.

Or did it?

You continued your way forward, soon reaching the tree corpses of what must have been once long ago a forest. Even dead, the trees provided more than enough cover from the snowstorm. As you waded through, the Bear suddenly stopped and pointed upwards.

“Is that…”

You looked up. Impaled to one of the tree branches was the Reindeer.

“We need to go. Now.” The Gorilla barked, but the Bear shook her head.

“I’m not leaving him here!” She tossed her sack at you, before starting to climb the frozen wood. “Don’t worry, babe, I’m here. We’re going to get out. Just a few more—”

You covered your eyes as the wind started to get even stronger, just in time. The ground shook, your eyes hurting from the booming sound as scraps of wood flew your way. After it was over, you lowered your arm, taking a good look at where the tree with the Bear and Reindeer used to be.

In its place was now a giant blue foot.

You crawled into a ball. So, you had not been imagining things after all. Back at camp…

It looked like a footprint.

“Move. Now, now, now!” The Captain shouted, and you only managed to recover from your stupor thanks to the Husky picking you up and grabbing your hand before dragging you around.

The three of you ran, and ran, and ran. But no matter how much you ran, how could you expect to outspeed something that big?

Finally, you dove into a nearby cave. The booming from the giant steps outside started to fade away, and the wind died down.

Were you safe now?

You huddled with the Husky against the wall, meanwhile your Captain continued to try contacting HQ.

“Fuck this,” the Gorilla said, throwing his mouthpiece to the ground.

“What are we going to do now?”

You rested your head on the Husky’s chest, who wrapped you around in his arms.

“I…”

The Gorilla stopped; and the Husky’s ears perked right up. The two of them turned their heads to the back of the cave. Following their gaze, you saw what had picked up their attention.

Dozens of small yellow eyes glistened in the dark.

You turned on your light, revealing a gaggle of small, white furred creatures. They hissed at you.

“What are those things?!” The Gorilla took out his gun and started to shoot at them, making the creatures leap in your direction. Before you knew it, they ended up swarming your Captain, hands flaying up and down as they beat him to a red pulp.

The Husky said nothing. He just stood up and carried you away as fast as he could away from the scene.

“We’ll make it out of this, I swear it!” he said, you too paralyzed to say anything back.

The Husky continued running, back towards the forest. Or the camp. Or somewhere else. Until at last, fatigue caught up with him and tumbled, dropping you and making you roll a few meters ahead of him.

You tried to stand up. The monsters were gaining on you…

The wind picked up again, and a roar sounded off. You covered your eyes, and once the voice stopped, all you could see was the creatures running back through the curtain of snow. Soon after, the wind stopped.

You sighed with relief and looked at the Husky.

He smiled at you—before getting crushed into the ground by a giant paw. A giant head soon followed. Blue like the paw, with sharp protruding tusks and several rows of razor-sharp teeth. A long, slimy black tongue came out from the cavernous mouth and licked at the underside of his paw.

His glowing yellow eyes then posed themselves in your direction, reaching at you with the same paw he had been licking before.

You got nauseous as the giant straightened itself, you in hand. When you got back your composure, you saw that you were high above from the ground, almost like if you were at the top of a skyscraper. Frost and snow circled around the giant. And in front of you, the giant stared at you, its mouth wide open, and its putrid breath washing all over you.

It reached at you with its free paw, and you closed your eyes. Waiting for your end.

Instead, the giant caressed you with its yellow nails as gentle as it could. Cooing at you.

Finally, it spoke.

“You. You I keep…”