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Forgetting but Still Loving

Disclaimer: if your not 18(or legal age where you live) or don't like male on male or kinky stuff or enemas don't read this..blah blah blah you know the drill.

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Kyle woke up and for one of the rare times didn't wake up covered in sweat. It had been 2 years since Ben was in the accident and almost 8 months since his first time with Tim and he still had the nightmares. ‘Kyle Kolden, that's who i am' thought Kyle trying to focus his thoughts. ‘That's who I am and that's who I'll be, alone until I die.'

He missed him terribly. Since the night with Tim he'd had a few one night stands but they didn't do anything to help him forget Ben. The pain was less, that was sure, but it was still there and the desire to just sit at home and watch TV was just as real. ‘Maybe today I'll go out and go to a club or something" thought Kyle; though honestly he knew he wouldn't.

Since Ben's death Kyle had only left the house a few times and would've lost his job if he didn't work from home. ‘What's the point no one will ever match Ben and it's not like I'll find "happiness" no matter what.' The night with Tim had helped. The so called "rape" had definitely eased his emotions but not his memories. Anger did nothing to suppress depression in the long run and neither did lust. But, he had promised James that he would go to the clubs with him tonight. No matter how much he wanted to just sit at home and drink, and stare at Ben's picture he had made a promise and if he wanted to keep any friends at all he'd have to keep it.

‘God, I wish I had just told him I was busy. I'm in no mood to go out. Two years or not I'm still not ready to just get "laid".' Ready or not, Kyle had made a promise and refrained from drinking more than a few beers. Kyle had gained a few pounds since the night after the party with Tim and the so-called "rape" but he was still as thin as the famine victims on TV and worse, he knew it. Kyle knew he was overly thin. He knew he was unhappy and harsh. Rude to his friends and just plain mean to strangers, but what was he supposed to do he thought? Just forget Ben and act like he hadn't lost his love? No, that would never happen. Ben had been his best friend for eighteen years and his lover for one of the happiest years of his life. He would never forget...NEVER!

Little did Kyle know....

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James had been working on this night for over a year, finding the right club to set up the kidnapping had been tough enough, but finding a farm owner who was not only willing but capable of managing what he had in mind was almost impossible. Lots of therapists would say Kyle needed extensive therapy but James and his friends agreed that what Kyle needed was not therapy but a night that would help him forget; forget but not stop loving his mate. Ben had been one in a million and even James knew it. Ben was loving, intelligent, friendly even to those people he didn't like, gentle but at the same time as rough as he needed to be, and more than anything faithful. Never before, not even in stories, had James heard of someone like Ben. Ben was by far the most perfect mate he'd ever seen. But tonight...tonight was going to be something special; something Kyle would never forget and never be able to supersede with Ben's memory. Tonight was going to be a fantasy made reality. And, James knew it.

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"Come on Kyle hurry up! The club opens at 8pm and if we aren't there by 10 all the hot guys will be taken! What's taking so long?"

Kyle wasn't getting ready, or getting dressed, but just staring at the mirror. His black fur was perfect. Shiny, well groomed, his white patches on his paws and ear tips were pristine. The white patch just under his chin brushed just so; accentuating his chin and cheek bones. But, he felt ugly. "Outside I'm perfect. The epitome of a sex object; a black fox with a lithe firm body. Inside though? Inside I'm ugly. A betrayer. Going out to pick up guys when my love is in the ground. What the hell is wrong with me? 8 months and I still can't stop myself from thinking about that rape after the party instead of my mate." Kyle sighed and checked himself in the mirror for the Nth time. ‘I guess I should just go instead of making James wait, I don't have to do anything. Just make James happy.' "Good enough" said Kyle out loud.

"What was that Kyle? Are you ready yet? I don't know about you but I WANT to get laid tonight come on lets go!" yelled James through the door.

Twenty minutes later found James and Kyle pulling up to "The Pit," a premier club for young, up and coming, gay furs. Parking wasn't an issue as they had just built a new garage a block north of the club. Dark, musty, and surrounded by cheap food joints and out of date hotels; the parking garage was what could only be called "rape central." Nothing was out of place and James and Kyle made it to the club with no issues. The bouncer let them in without hesitation and even winked at Kyle as he went in. ‘That's one seriously muscled bear,' thought Kyle; sadly without any real lust at the thought.

The club was just like any upscale, low-age, high earning gay club Kyle had ever been to. The drinks were overpriced, the music was too loud, the furs were (without exception) far too attractive to be managing it without active effort on their parts, and worse: all the furs seemed to be checking him out. ‘Great. I'll get hit on a dozen times and not even find one guy worth actually talking to,' thought Kyle before downing his whiskey in one gulp and ordering another.

"Hey cutie, you're looking a bit dark tonight."

"Hah. Hah hah hah. Real funny buddy. Was that a joke about my fur or about my mood?" He couldn't even be nice when being hit on by what was undeniably the hottest Dalmatian he had ever seen.

"Both. Though, to be honest, your mood isn't all that appealing." James had warned him, but even the Dalmatian was a bit put-off by Kyle's mood. This was one truly depressed fox.

"Well, if I'm so unappealing why don't you move off and find yourself some young inexperienced fur to press your advances on." He knew it was rude, but Kyle couldn't bring himself to be polite. Here was some random dog trying to pick him up at a gay bar. As if he could ever replace Ben. Hah!

"Your mood isn't all that appealing, but who said you weren't." Doug couldn't help but grin. This fox was clearly unhappy but he was cute. James had definitely been right. This fox was seriously attractive.

"How about this? How about you fuck off and leave me to my whiskey in peace? I'm not in the mood to be picked up and I'm not in the mood to fall in "love". OK?" Kyle's patience was rapidly fading; the more he drank the less he had.

"I have a better idea. How about you finish your whiskey and you and me go outside and have a cigarette so you can yell and rage all you want at me without offending anyone else who actually might care?" Doug was, if nothing else, patient. And, he wasn't about to let some depressed, self hating fox make him have a bad night. Especially since he was getting paid so much.

"Sure, why not I might feel better after I have a smoke and make you realize just how much I'm not into being picked up." Downing his drink, Kyle turned to the Dalmatian and nodded to the door. He never saw the grin and nod the Dalmatian gave to the bartender, because he was digging out his pack of Camel Lights. He didn't see the answering grin the bartender gave the Dalmatian; or the suggestive tug at his crotch that James gave from a ways down the bar.

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"So go ahead fox yell at me. Scream and rage and bitch at me. That's what you want isn't it? To make me feel like an ass for picking you up. Right?" Grinning around his smoke Doug couldn't help but feel satisfied that the plan was going so well.

"Fuck off. I'm not in the mood to make you feel good and satisfy your need for abuse. Just let me smoke my cigarette and go back in to have another drink," Kyle sighed softly. "You're no Ben" he grumbled under his breath.

"Oh, I'll get off. Don't worry about me. Hey you're looking a bit unsteady. Have a bit too much to drink already?" Grinning maliciously the Dalmatian was just watching to see when he needed to grab the fox and throw him over his shoulder to carry to his van.

"I...I'll be fine. Just didn't eat enough today...I'll be alright in a minute..." That was the last thing Kyle remembered before he woke up to the smell of hay and a distant sound of conversation. Also, what was that weird sound? Horses?

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Clearly something was not right. First, he couldn't move like he should have been able to. His back and stomach seemed to be just fine but his paws were bound tightly. If that weren't enough of a shock, and a throwback to eight months before, he seemed to be tilted down his head below his rump. ‘What the hell is this? I swear if James set me up again I'll tear out his throat.' He struggled; as hard as he could, but it didn't do any good. Whoever tied these knots knew his business well.

"So, it seems our fox is awake. Good." Doug grinned down at Kyle and adjusted his package so there wasn't as much stress on his erection. "So Kyle are you comfortable? Are the knots too tight? How about the plug? It's not too big is it? Well I hope not because it isn't going anywhere anytime soon." He turned to his ‘partner in crime.' "Everything ready Dillon? We don't want to keep our fox waiting. He seems to be impatient to start his fantasy."

Fantasy? What the hell were these furs talking about? Kyle's fantasy was Ben. Just Ben. and he certainly didn't want to be raped again. Tim was gentle in his own way but it definitely wasn't love. He'd hooked up with Tim a few times after that night at the party. But, nothing made that first night seem any less like rape. Pleasure or pain it was still rape and that spoiled any real relationship that might have blossomed. Here he was; tied up, gagged and clearly stuffed with a fairly large plug (his tail hole was twitching uncomfortable around the width of the thing). And, not a damned thing he could do about it.

"mmm, unnh, MMmmmmmmmmm." Scream or not; the gag kept him from saying anything audible.

"Calm down fox. We're not going to hurt you. Just make one of your fantasies come true. And, I assure you, this time you'll be able to forget. Maybe not stop loving. But, forget." Doug smiled softly and ran his paws lightly over the fox's rump. "You always liked to be filled didn't you? Well tonight you will be filled. Truly and completely filled."

"I've got it all ready and the tank and pump are cleaned and aren't leaking like the last time. You sure this city fox can handle it though? I don't want to have to worry about hiding a body or anything from the police." Dillon was a 6'5" sheepdog. Big for his species, and just plain big in general. Since he was a little kid he'd always been shy because he was so...over sized..for his species; not just in height but in endowment. As a result, Dillon had ended up preferring feral horses to any anthro. At least with horses he didn't feel weird about his size; height or otherwise.

"Oh he'll be fine, he used to do all kinds of enemas and inflations and big toys with his mate. And anyways, James tells me he fantasizes about being filled up to the limit."

Hearing all this Kyle knew something horrible was about to happen. He didn't know what, but he knew it wouldn't end up being good. It was clear James had set him up yet again. Submissive he might be, but Kyle wasn't about to be raped again without trying to fight it. And fight he did. He strained at his bonds. Screamed as loud as he could through the gag, and even tried to tip the thing he was tied to over; thinking it might make some noise someone could hear. None of that did any good.

"Well I think our fox is ready. And, if he isn't...well too bad. He's going to get filled anyways. Turn on the pump Dillon."

"Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute you spotted bastard I have to fill the pump tank first." Dillon went over to the fridge he kept in the barn. Pulling out container after container of cooled and stored horse cum; he dumped them into the pump tank. Almost twenty-four gallons of it before reaching down to rub himself as he flipped the on switch. "You do know that this fox is far, FAR, too small to take all of this without losing some of it right Doug?"

"Oh I know, but that's part of this fox's fantasy you shaggy bum. He wants to be so full it can't be held inside him. James told me all about it." An over sized shaggy dog standing nearby didn't really matter. Doug couldn't help rubbing himself through his tight jeans. 5'8", 145 lbs, with a coat that would make any firehouse mutt jealous; Doug was a piece of perfection. His spots were the darkest black, his underlying color a blinding white without having to bleach any of it to maintain the contrast. Tongue a crimson red that matched his shaft perfectly. Doug was a Greek sculpture rendered in Dalmatian. And he knew it. Sure, he was egotistical and confident in his handsomeness. But, in his case, he was fully justified. There wasn't a dog in town that could even come close to him. Of course, that's why James had paid him so well. And Doug loved a good paycheck almost as much as he loved himself.

Kyle heard all this and wasn't really sure what was going on. He could feel the plug in his tail hole. He knew he was tied up and couldn't move. But, ignoring all the evidence otherwise, he denied he was about to be taken advantage of again. ‘Not again! This CANNOT be happening again!' It wasn't long after that he felt a tingling warmth begin to flood his bowels. At first it was just a mild pressure. Nothing he wasn't used to from his normal enemas that he did on rare occasion for pleasure. It wasn't long, though, before the pressure became a bit uncomfortable. His stomach was gurgling as the bubbles moved around. Worse, he could feel his belly slowly, but surely, begin to stretch as it filled.

The warmth was pleasant. Kyle knew he was being forced but the warmth was relaxing anyways. The tingling though..it wouldn't go away. It was almost like when Ben used to piss inside him except this was much more pronounced; and in much larger volume. His only clue to what was being pumped into him was a hint of musk on the air.

"How much so far?"

"Oh about two liters. I'm surprised it's flowing so easily to be honest." Fiddling with the pressure gauge to try and get the needle to show a normal reading; Dillon wasn't paying much attention to the fox or the Dalmatian.

"Two liters. Well why don't we go have a beer while the pump does it's work? It's not like we need to stop it from filling him too much." Chuckling softly Doug turned to leave the barn. But, he couldn't resist giving Kyle a good hard smack across his rump before leaving with the big sheep dog right next to him.

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The voices of the two dogs had faded..an hour? two hours? ago. Kyle couldn't tell. All he could think about was the pressure. Pump after pump after pump. The only sounds were the whirring and clicking of the pump as it forced ounce after ounce of liquid into him. He couldn't even tell what was being forced into him. Only the pressure. His stomach was painfully distended. The undeniable desire to void his bowels was not only insistent, but never ending at this point. It had even gotten to where he was burping on occasion, around his gag and through his nostrils. The taste of the burps was clearly that of his stomach acid and cheap sweet drinks from the bar, mingling with whiskey and some deeper muskier taste.

"whrrrr. Click. Whrrrrrrr. Click. Whrrrrrrr. Click"

It didn't end. All Kyle could think at that point was: "Dear God is this how my life ends? I lose my mate, I lose all hope in life, and I get pumped so full I drown in the fluids forced the wrong way through me?" By then the pressure and the progress of the fluid through him was all he could think about. Light, sound, smell were all gone. All that was left was the "whrrrrr. Click" of the pump, the slightly painful stretching of his stomach, and the occasional air escaping around his gag; tainted by what was in his stomach.

It wasn't long before he began to feel nauseous. His stomach was cramping and gurgling regularly, the pump kept on with it's regularly timed noises, and no matter how much he hated it his cock was standing at attention. Kyle knew there must be a fair sized puddle of his pre on the ground at this point. Rape or not. Forced or not. This was turning him on. He was being filled! And, not only filled, but filled to the point it was clearly going to be coming out the wrong way soon. Even though that was a disgusting thought, he couldn't help but be aroused by it. This was the ultimate enema. An enema so large it didn't stop. An enema that would not only clean him out but force its way entirely through him and clean him completely. Not only forcing out the feces and stomach contents, but based on his arousal, his cum as well.

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"So, do you think we should go check on the fox now?" Dillon wasn't much of a 'nice guy' but he definitely didn't want to deal with a dead fox that drowned in horse cum.

"Oh, he'll be fine. It's cum after all; that's what foxes were born to take. Now how about another drink?" Doug was turned on and very drunk. No doubts about that. This sheep dog wasn't his type normally, but something about him was desirable on some level and Doug wasn't about to let that shaggy dog's cock go un-yiffed. Taking another sip from the newly refilled drink he said, "So. Would you like to mount a spotted bitch?" It wasn't his style to be submissive, but enough drinks will make anyone receptive to their position.

"Yeah, I'll mount you bitch. and when I'm done I'll make you clean up after you fox friend." Dillon unzipped his trousers and pulled out his nine inch cock. "Mmm. Get your muzzle over here and get me ready Spotty." ‘This might not be a bad night after all' thought Dillon. The pay was good, the Dalmatian was hot, and it wasn't like his studs couldn't refill his fridge in a few days. The only question was what to do about this egotistical prick of a Dalmatian...

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He was starting to lose control. Kyle knew it was about to end. The nausea was intense and he could already feel it starting to rise up his throat. The only upside was the gag was a ring gag and wouldn't choke him on his own vomit; thankfully. Enemas were one thing. Vomit was something entirely else and was NOT a turn on for him. A loud gurgle ran through his stomach and he lost control entirely. Everything came up. The cheap sweet drinks from the bar, the sandwich from lunch, everything. The alcohol burning his nostrils on the way out. It wasn't long before much less pleasant things began to pour out of the ring gag. Things that would've been better had they stayed in his intestines.

What surprised Kyle was not the foul things that came from his intestines but what came after them. It wasn't very long at all before the foul tastes faded and all he could taste was cum. Load after load of cum. It was musky, and thick, and clearly horse in origin. He could taste the overtones of hay, the sweet tang of oats, the rich manly taste of musk and horse scent.

Minutes after the taste of horse cum overwhelmed everything else his mind broke. He didn't lose his mind, or lose touch with reality, but everything that had troubled him just dropped away. All that was left was the cum. A fantasy that he had since the day he first had an enema in a romantic situation. A day he had planned to play a video game with a friend and ended up making love in a bathroom. Full of water. Full of love. And, utterly happy with his life. All that had ended a year later in the accident; but this, this was something that had remained. Something separate from the pain. This was lust. This was fantasy. This was perfection.

As the cum poured from his muzzle and dripped from his nostrils Kyle felt his orgasm building. All this cum! He had to fight to stop the flow for just a few seconds to gasp down his breath. The lack of air only made his arousal that much more demanding. Staring down at the very large puddle of cum forming on the floor below his muzzle, overwhelmed by musk in his mouth and nose and entire body; Kyle shuddered and began to spray some of his own cum on the floor.

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Doug was done, spent, exhausted. The sheep dog was more than a match for his powerful appetite and had more than yiffed him. He had yiffed him silly. Doug had even forgot the fox in the barn. Lucky for Kyle, Dillon hadn't forgotten and as soon as his knot went down he pulled out. After smacking the Dalmatian, quite hard, on the rump he went out to the barn to see about the fox and leaving the slutty little dog to recover in his own time. When he walked in it was a shock. The pump had turned itself off and the tank was empty. That in itself would've been shocking enough; he didn't think that he'd been yiffing the dalmatian for that long, but obviously he had. What really shocked him was the huge puddle of cum under the fox's muzzle. The pump had forced the cum not just into the fox but all the way through him!

Rushing to the fox Dillon smacked his cheek and yelled, "Fox! are you alright? Please don't be dead!"

"Mmmm, nghhhh, mmmm." Kyle was in a daze. The musk from the horse cum was overwhelming. Overpowering. All he could think was ‘cum.'

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry. Here I'll get you out right now." Dillon undid the fox from his bindings faster than he ever thought possible. Screaming in his mind that he hoped the fox was alright. In the process he noticed the second puddle of cum. This one under the foxes cock at the opposite end of the wooden stand he'd tied him to. "Well, at least he enjoyed it" he said to himself.

Kyle felt the paws undoing his bindings. When at last he was free and pulled off the stand the pressure on his belly lessened greatly but he was still so full...so full. Full or not he wanted to be yiffed. All that musk; so full he could barely even focus on moving. He managed to say after the gag was removed, "Yiff me. Please yiff me. I need it." And Dillon obliged.

Even after yiffing the Dalmatian thoroughly the sheer overwhelming smell of musk and cum was enough to drive Dillon to erection. He didn't even hesitate before lining up and shoving his cock into Kyle. All nine inches and his four inch knot in one powerful thrust. The fox squealed loudly as the shaft slid in and yipped as the knot popped in. Dillon didn't hesitate to yank the knot back out and proceed to yiff the fox rapidly. Tip to knot with every thrust; he gripped those black furred hips and kept up a pace he hadn't managed since he was a teen. He didn't know if it was that the fox was sexy or if it was just the huge amount of pheromones in the air but he wanted this. He wanted it bad; and the fox was so very willing. Even after the huge plug nozzle the fox's hole was almost painfully tight. It clenched down on the sheep dog's shaft like a vice and rippled around it every time his knot slammed against the tail ring. The loud yips just drove him on even more and it wasn't long before his knot swelled further(having not even gone down completely since yiffing the Dalmatian) and he howled loudly, like a wolf at the moon, and drove his knot into the fox.

Kyle felt the knot go in. His first thought after the tearing pain of the huge knot was ‘Ben, oh God Ben I love you!' But, that thought dissolved and melted away with the spurts of cum that shot out around the sheep dogs shaft. A mixture of dozens of stallions and white hot sheep dog cum. As the puddle between his legs grew bigger the pain grew lesser and when it faded completely so did his consciousness.

"Damn! Maybe I should go to this club next week and see if the fox shows up again." Grinning softly Dillon waited till his knot went down before gathering up the fox, still bloated with cum, and went to find the Dalmatian. Once he had the fox in a cab on his way home, with a few extra dollars for the cabby to carry him up to his apartment, Dillon turned back and walked to his door slowly. 'Now to deal with this asshole dog in my kitchen. After i make him lick up that mess the fox made...what to do. Maybe my stallions want someone to do after all that musk.' Chuckling softly and looking forward to seeing how many stallions in a row the Dalmatian could take; Dillon began to whistle his favorite tune.

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Sunlight streamed in and woke Kyle. Mornings were never good. Mornings were the worst. Memories came and with them the pain of loss. But, this morning was different. Kyle was hungry; really hungry. Getting out of bed with a grunt he looked around for his boxers, wondering why he wasn't wearing any in the first place, and not finding them shrugged and went downstairs to make breakfast. ‘And here I was being told I was underweight by all my friends, but look at this belly!' Rumbling moved through his stomach and he stirred the eggs wishing they could cook faster. Just as the eggs began to finish and the biscuits in the oven pinged that the timer was done he suddenly had to go. This was worse than an enema this was beyond desire; this was a necessity. Rushing to the bathroom he sat down and relaxed wondering why he couldn't remember giving himself an enema last night.

‘My god that feels good.' Kyle thought to himself. As he let go and was lost in the release Kyle thought, ‘I love you Ben, and I always will. But, its time for me to forget. Not forget the love but forget the pain.' With the grief finally, after eight months, running its course Kyle truly and completely relaxed.

Closing his eyes and smiling he completely missed the smell of the burning eggs and scorching biscuits in the scent of sheep dog and horse musk.