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There were only bits and pieces in the mind of Jon when he awoke to the blistering heat of the sun, lost once again, and worse, wounded once again.

Darkness had been closing in on all sides. Each step he took, he could hear the panting of wolves chasing after him. The sensitive rounds of his ears picked up on the tiny, seemingly insignificant sound of drool spilling to the ground as they pursued, and despite knowing that they could easily have tracked him down, they never came.

Whether the claws that were ripping at his flesh were his imagination or perhaps some lesser beast, he couldn't be sure. He wasn't mortally wounded, as he'd been before. He was merely scratched up, perhaps even at the hands of small branches and rocks as he fell down to the dirt in his self-provoked exhaustion.

The fear, the panic, and the pain all paled in comparison to one other thing, however: disappointment.

"Why...why couldn't you just stand up to them, Likita?" Jon wondered to himself, thinking out loud and shaking his head as he tried to work the cobwebs out of his mind. The sleep was thick in the pits of his tear ducts, and after sleeping so soundly upon the ground with Likita, he had a terrible night of sleep on his own in the woods.

Despite his mission to stay close to the river, he was definitely a bit further away from it than he had been, and without a trail to follow back home, he couldn't be sure which way he should head to return to the village of the wolves. Worse still, he had no idea how to get back to his own village, and given the level of treason he'd committed by deserting it, he might be better off that way.

He didn't mind being lonely; he did have a bit of a problem with being alone, though.

"If I hurry, perhaps I can find a small area of salvage and set up a camp before night falls again," Jon muttered, his voice a low, angry grumble as he spoke to himself. It took only seconds of being awake for his frustrations to set in again, and his mind was lost to the miasma of his rage as he brushed the dirt from his torso and planted his footpaws upon the ground. The minor sting of the small wounds he'd collected barely registered to him behind the anger he felt, but the clarity that followed might have been even worse.

If I had just stayed, he thought, Likita would have been safe. I might have been beaten or killed, but...goodness only knows that she's likely suffered an even more terrible fate because of me.

"Becoming her apprentice was the best thing I ever could have done for myself... or for her," Jon rationalized. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, inspecting his own wounds with a delicate, skillful pawtip. None of them were deep enough to truly need treatment, and the trees all around him were overgrown with different vines of medicinal properties. In just a few weeks around Likita, he'd learned enough to diagnose his own wounds and figure out what was and wasn't safe to use to treat them. He plucked a leaf from one of the nearby trees and spat into it, before rubbing the leaf into a fine, green mess between his paws. It took on a thick, rigid texture as he applied it to one of the deeper marks upon his chest, and within seconds, the wound started to fill in, preventing infection from setting in first.

It was only the beginning of the day, and Jon was too aware of just how thankful he had to be for Likita's presence.

Getting back to her might prove an impossible task, and if Jon were unwise, he'd only be putting her at further risk, if she'd even survived the night. He had no way of knowing such, and though it felt cowardly, he was having trouble deciding if he should go back and try to help her, or simply go on his own way, assuming that the best had happened for her, rather than the worst outcome.

"I have to return someday. Just dunno when that day is ever going to be..."

Jon put the rest of the self-made salve to work on his bigger wounds, and once it was all used up, he wiped his paws the fur upon his thighs. He almost didn't want to admit that without Likita, he might have been filled with disease through his wounds in a short amount of time, but as he looked upon the bracelet that now adorned his right wrist, he realized what a fool he would have been to think so arrogantly.

"Wonder what it means..." he pondered, gazing over the bracelet as his footpaws, heavy with regret, finally started to move again. His ears could still pick up the faint, peaceful sound of trickling water going by, and he trekked his way to the right until he could see the clear, flowing liquid of a gentle river nearby. It was growing wider the further he went upstream, and just judging by the path he was taking, he was sure it was the same river that would ultimately lead him back to his own people, where he never felt he belonged in the first place.

He was beside himself, trying to think of which option would be best. He could easily follow the river back down to the pond where it gathered and wait for Likita to appear once again, knowing full well what kind of danger that would put her in, or he could follow the river back north to the lands of the otters.

I may never see her again...I don't know what kind of punishment I'll face for this desertion, but...at least she'll be safe, Jon convinced himself. At least she won't ever have to see that evil in my eyes again.

Jon still wasn't sure just what it was that Likita had seen coming out of him as she healed his wounds, and he couldn't imagine being such a violent person unless he was faced with defending his own life, but he was sure that she'd softened him up a bit. He was more in tune with his compassion than he'd ever been, and though his home and heart were nowhere near the same place, he actually felt a mild fondness at the thought of returning to the land of the otters once again.

Clenching the tiny pendant of the bracelet in his palm, he made up his mind, truly believing he was doing what was best not just for Likita, but for himself.

**

"You could have let him stay, Ulrus. There was no need to be threatened by someone so much smaller and weaker than you."

Jon's mind would never have been at ease if he knew the kind of verbal abuse that Likita was enduring, and he'd likely never know what other kinds of punishment she'd been through, as she sat just outside of her tent in the commons of the village.

She'd been stopped mere steps from the front, where she would have been entirely safe, before Ulrus and the hunters dragged her further into the woods. Far away from where the otter she loved was setting off on his own journey, Likita was kept on her knees by thick, powerful sets of arms, but she refused to lower her head in the respect the hunters thought they deserved.

"Smaller? Sure. Weaker? Absolutely. Someone I can trust on a hunt? Not a fucking chance," Ulrus explained, his tail turned upward as he paced back and forth in front of Likita. "He set the terms, Likita. I just played by them. He wanted to be a hunter in my pack, and he wasn't worthy. Plain and simple. He had to be dealt with..."

"So you kicked him out of the village entirely and embarrassed the both of us in what should have been a private moment...was that truly necessary, Ulrus?"

"I wanted to get the message across in case he ever felt like coming back to the village."

"If he were to ever return, I'd take him under my wing as my apprentice, whether he liked it or not!"

Ulrus rolled his eyes. "Like an otter could ever be a useful doctor."

"He has skills that you know nothing about," Likita explained, "And I could feel the care for natural life in his heart, before you monsters showed up and ruined everything!"

"I told you...he set the terms, Likita. I'm not going to feel bad about what happened."

"Fine. Be a dick...that's really not my problem," Likita replied, letting out a deep, shaky sigh. "But you'd better let me off of my knees and get out of my way. I need an actual bath, this time."

"And if I don't?" Ulrus asked, raising a brow and snickering down at Likita. Her ears flattened nervously as she could hear a set of devious chuckles coming from the hunters above her. "Not like your little otter boy can come and save you now..."

"You would dare to defile the only medicine woman in the village?" Likita asked, putting the onus of such an act upon Ulrus in the hopes of dissuading him. "If you were caught...the punishment would be worse than banishment...and far worse than death!"

"You say that as if you think I care..."

Likita felt her eyes shrink in fear as she gulped. She tried to stay still and conserve what little energy she still had left, knowing that thrashing about likely wouldn't get her anywhere.

"Looks like you're finally taking me seriously!" Ulrus exclaimed, letting a wide grin spread over the venomous lips of his muzzle. "I may not be one of the elders, Likita, but without my hunters and I...they don't eat. You don't eat. No one does...unless they happen to be one of the rare herbivores who pass through, of course, and guess what? I fuck all of them, too, because they think they need my protection from the wild beasts that wander around from time to time!"

"If you're truly so insatiable, you've got plenty of men under your command to interact with," Likita snarled at him, narrowing her normally calm, lovely eyes at Ulrus. "To take advantage of your position in such a way that all of nature bows to your whims...do you truly enjoy that?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, Likita...you think those poor doe girls were meant to take a guy like me?"

"Ulrus, I'd suggest you b-

"They're not," Ulrus cut her off. "But they still squeal and moan with delight when I give them what only I can..."

Likita spat at the ground in front of Ulrus, refusing to even gaze upon him anymore. "So you're a nymphomaniac with the body and wiles needed to live out your every fantasy. Congratulations. I'm still not sleeping with you."

"Wasn't a question of your willingness, Likita..."

The wolfess was biding her time, until she could only just barely feel the arms of the other hunters upon her. They no longer took her as a serious threat, and that was their mistake to make; Likita was crafty enough to escape a dangerous situation, and wasn't about to be kept in this one any longer.

"The only way I'd come anywhere near your pathetic manhood is if I had a knife in my paws," Likita explained, as she gritted her fangs and flipped her wrists up. Each of the hunters on her side took a shot right to the testes, dropping them down to their knees and taking their arms off of her. In all ways, Likita was outnumbered and overpowered, but she was still close enough to the village that she could at least make her way there and notify the elders of Ulrus' treachery.

"Likita...think about what you're doing!" Ulrus called out to her, showing only mild concern for how easily she escaped. "This won't end well for you!"

Sprinting with every ounce of energy she had, Likita was panting within seconds as she tore across the woods for her village, worried that something else was going on...something well out of her control.

**

Sing with me and come along, adventure waits around the bend. Tell me of your favorite song, we'll carry it until the end...

Jon was running out of different rhymes to sing to himself before the sun was fully overhead, and he had no idea how far he'd gone. He knew that he was marching back toward his own tribe, and likely to a terrible punishment, but he was trying to keep that from ruining the good mood that was starting to infect him.

It could have been the familiar sound of rushing water as the river grew wider and wider with each few hundred feet, or perhaps the way that he could enjoy both the comforting heat of the sun, and the soothing shade of the canopy over his head. In some way, he had a feeling that Likita was okay, being entirely ignorant of her plight elsewhere. It would be impossible for her to forget her so quickly, but there was a comfort, albeit somewhat empty, in accepting that he'd done the best thing he could for her.

"Can't go too much further without getting something to eat," Jon said to himself, "And if I wait too much longer, the river will be a bit too heavy to safely fish from. Guess I'd better stop here for a bit and set up a camp."

Plenty far enough from the lands of the tribal wolves, Jon felt that he didn't have to worry about any uninvited guests at this distance. He wasn't sure how much further up the river it would be until he reached his own lands, but he was sure that the wolves wouldn't come that far out of their own territory just to track him down. It was just about the perfect location to gather up some sticks, build a small shelter, catch some food, and rest for the evening before the final stretch of the journey home.

Mingled dirt and grass kicked up as Jon jogged around the spot he'd picked, picking up the larger branches that had fallen from tired, old trees over the years. They were no longer strong enough to fight the elements, but they were plenty strong enough to help shield Jon from them, and he was reverent in his appreciation of the fallen wood. He was thankful to the earth around him for all of the help that it provided, and thankful to the water for quenching his thirst and providing a bounty of fish for him to choose from.

"Not a bad little shelter," Jon whispered, slightly out of breath as he wiped the sweat from his brow. It was a simple loft of branches and a couple of ferns to provide cover from rain, and a bare spot of dirt to sleep upon; not the most comfortable surface for a good night of rest, but certainly, it was one of the safest. "Should suffice for the rest of the day, anyway."

Fish were splashing about and jumping up through the water next to Jon, and immediately, his stomach took control of his thought process. He knew just how bountiful the waters were from his time living in the otter village, and drool started pooling on his tongue at the thought of just how tasty a fresh fish was when it was eaten right at the source. There was something so crisp and delightful about it that he couldn't help tossing his loincloth aside and diving right into the rushing waters of the river, certain that he could grab a fish or two with ease in such shallow waters.

...At least, he could have, if there weren't something in the water to impede him.

Jon winced his eyes shut as he dove in, but rapidly threw them open as he bounced, just under the surface of the water. His paws slipped right through a couple of square holes, and Jon had only himself to blame for his thoughtlessness.

I must be closer to the village than I thought...this is a fishing net! Jon panicked, refusing to open his maw for fear of water rushing down his throat. He tried kicking his legs, but he could feel that he'd already snagged one of his footpaws, and wiggling about would only serve to tangle him even further within the net. He thrashed about for a moment, trying to get his paws free, but they'd been pressed together for his dive, and now, they were trapped within the netting, his wrists stuck together as if they were being bound in place by a rope.

A pair of hunters had been waiting for a large catch by the net, that afternoon...but Jon was quite a bit more than they'd bargained for.

**

"Damn it...did he really have to be so heavy?"

The words were groggy and uneven as they crossed Jon's ears, but the sound of frustration rang true in them, all the same. "He's not even that big, man. He's just about the same size as the rest of us...and he has the same markings."

"Definitely don't recognize him yet."

"Neither do I, but...he's also kind of covered in dirt and grass, now."

Jon did his best not to panic when he'd jumped into the river and gotten caught in the net, but while the hunters watching over it did pull Jon from the river and save his life, they didn't do it before he nearly drowned and passed out in the process.

"If anyone knows him, I'm sure the elders will..."

"Yeah. His face looked kinda familiar, but I don't think he wanted to be found, honestly. Shame the poor fool had to go and get caught in our net like that."

You're telling me, Jon groaned, keeping his thoughts to himself for the moment. He had no idea how long it had been since he blacked out, but the sun was just beginning to set in the distance, and he'd been dragged an unknown distance across fields that were mostly dirt and grass. He was filthy with the mixture, and only wished that the pair of hunters would have stopped to adjust his head a couple times. He wasn't sure how many rocks he'd banged his head on, but it was a number higher than he cared to count.

"Well, at least there were a few good fish in there..." one of the hunters grumbled, clearly frustrated with having to haul the dead weight that Jon had been for easily a few miles.

"I have a feeling the elders will be a lot more excited with this catch than we are, Delor..."

The conversation was droning and obnoxious to the headache that Jon was starting to develop. He kept his eyes winced shut tightly in the hopes that sleep would come and take him away again, but his ears were too sensitive to allow it, and his mind was racing with the possibilities of where he might actually be. He knew he was heading closer and closer to the tribelands that he'd once lived in, but he didn't think that he was so close to be getting caught in one of their fishing nets.

At the sight of a familiar landmark, he knew that he was wrong.

Trees with blue trunks and red leaves...the trees that have long since served as a warning to turn away...this is definitely my homeland...s-shit...

Jon gulped, trying to keep the lump in his throat as silent as possible as sticks and dirt kicked up into his fur and scratched the flesh underneath. His fears and concerns were coming to a head as he recognized other things from his checkered past: a small cliff that several otters could be seen playfully diving from, a row of different huts, tents and even small houses that his people had come to call their own, and a large, open field that was once healthy, plentiful grass, now beaten down mostly to dirt by the constant travel of people across it. The way that shops and huts lined the dirty commons, Jon almost felt as though he were being dragged back into the village of the wolves, but that was truly wishful thinking, and Jon didn't have that kind of luck.

"...Well well...I never thought I'd live to see the day that you'd come crawling back to us, Jon."

His luck was cursed, at best, and he knew that there would be no easy, nor pleasant way out of the predicament he was now in. He clung desperately to the hopes and prayers that Likita wasn't suffering a similar fate as the net around his body was slipped away from him, and the other two otters carried the net away with the fish that it still held.

"Go figure, we'd literally have to throw a net around you and drag you back here, but I had a feeling that your path in life might bring you back here, some day. It's only natural for someone to desire to stay among their own kind, like they're supposed to."

The voice that loomed down over Jon was a powerful and domineering one; confident, bordering on arrogant, and so sure of itself, it inspired confidence in others at the same time as frustration. It was the voice of Terek, one of the greatest hunters in the Otter Village, and one who was finally nearing the end of his time as an active hunter in the field.

"Come on, Jon. Say something. I know you're not sleeping down there..."

"I have nothing to say to you, Terek."

Standing tall over the curled up weakling that Jon was in comparison, Terek was slim, like all of the otters, but there was a musculature hiding just under the surface of his fur that made him the kind that no one dared to talk back to. In his more timid days, Jon wouldn't have bothered with a reply, knowing that nothing good could come from it, but in the time since he'd left, and the trials that he'd survived, he found himself to be far more brash than he ever was before.

"That's an awfully bitter way to greet an old friend after several years away. Are you upset that Delor and Arten dragged you back here in a net full of fish?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "That has to be a rhetorical question."

"Of course it is," Terek shot back. "When I heard about the markings and the fangs on the otter who was trapped in the net, I knew it was you...and I made sure that they treated you the way that a deserter deserves to be treated!"

It was only a matter of time before Terek brought the subject back around to Jon leaving the village, but for Jon, it was much like taking a needle: he knew that the sting was coming, and that it would be over quick, but nothing could quite prepare him for it. "I didn't belong here, Terek. I didn't fit in, and you're the one who was always driving that point home!"

"That's just how guys are to each other, Jon. If you couldn't take the abuse, then clearly, you really didn't belong."

"Then why are you so pissed off that I left? Why are you being such an asshole to me now?!"

Terek snickered. He brushed the thumb of his paw under his chin as he gazed up at the sky thoughtfully, closing his eyelids over the candy blue irises of his eyes for a moment. "Because you still have a duty to your tribe, and to your kind. You might be tainted with the blood of other animals, but you were born here, and at heart, you are an otter, Jon. Leaving your home isn't just going away...it's abandoning everyone that you know and care about. It's removing an important piece from the puzzle and expecting it to still look the same and function the same when all is said and done. It just doesn't work."

"You sure seem to have gotten along fine without me, honestly."

"We had to adjust to the lack of a whipping boy," Terek admitted, refusing to go more than a few words without insulting his old companion, "But even if the most useless member of the village leaves it behind, the fact of the matter is that the slack they left has to be picked up by everybody else. It makes life a little bit more difficult for those who decided to stay."

Grunting, Jon finally leaned up from his side and sat back on his haunches in front of Terek, his eyes shooting right past the lengthy loincloth that kept the taller otter modest, and up to his smug, cocky expression. "You say that as if I was the first person to ever leave the village. Others have left before me, and I'm sure others will leave after me. Nothing is going to change that fact."

Terek let out a quick, grunting chuckle. "Heh... I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you, Jon."

"And what makes you say that?"

"I really didn't expect that I would ever see you again. Most people don't come back to the village after they leave, for whatever reason. For most of them, I'm pretty sure it's a swift and untimely death, but for you, it sounds like it was just a stroke of bad luck."

"You could say that again."

"Well, it's only going to get worse from here, so you might want to start biting your tongue..."

Jon could feel his ears flattening before he even opened his muzzle again. "W...what?"

"I think it's fair to say that you had pretty rotten luck when you lived here, Jon, and I'm guessing by those wounds on your body that it didn't improve on the outside, but...I'm not going to have any mercy on you for your desertion."

"Hmmph," Jon grunted and turned his gaze back down to the ground. "Be my guest. I'm sure I've dealt with worse."

"...Fine, Jon. You want to be an arrogant little prick about this?" Terek asked, his cocky smirk finally turning down into a frustrated scowl. "I was just going to incur the usual punishment for desertion, but if you want to be that way about it...I'm going to make a fucking example out of you."

It was rare for Jon to see Terek wearing anything but a smirk. The idea that he'd truly drawn the ire of the bigger man was a bit frightening, but his thoughts were still twisted up in a confused mess of strings, pulling him back to the village of the wolves, and tugging him in another direction, any other direction than the one Terek was about to take him.

"Tonight, in front of the whole village, you're going to learn just what a mistake it is to walk out on my village, Jon. I will sear it in the very fabric of your soul."

**

Jon spent the rest of the day, and the earlier parts of the evening in the same fashion that he spent most of his life in the otter tribelands: in a tent, recumbent and feeling lazy.

This time, however, his eyes were covered with a thick, leather blindfold, and his paws were bound behind his back, making him the image of the very prisoner that he'd become. From the moment he was trapped in the net, he knew that his life was going to take a turn for the worse, but he truly didn't think Terek was capable of going to such extremes. He didn't think he could ever be as bad as the wolven hunters had been to him.

Unfortunately, Terek was now determined to prove that he was far worse than Jon's former captors.

"The moon is just starting to peak overhead, Jon. Seems that Terek is ready for you in the commons."

Jon thought he recognized the voice that was speaking to him, but he didn't much care to try and identify it. He didn't much care about anything other than escaping, but he knew that it wasn't possible in his current state. He'd been given only as much water as he needed to survive, and very little food, to boot. He was tired, sluggish and frustrated, and even if he were brimming with determination, his paws were still bound, and his eyes were still covered. He didn't even see the paw that reached down and tugged at his shoulder, forcing him to stand up and follow, though his ears did pick up the sound of another otter following behind him, making sure that he didn't try to escape his punishment at the last second.

Terek is going all out this time...why me? What the hell did I do that was so terrible?

Terek was aware of what made people recognize someone as a great leader, and merely having Jon defy him and talk back to him translated as a show of weakness in a world far more primal than our own. Even if he never left the village, Jon was going to have to be punished just for that.

The mental anguish that was starting to settle in was worse than any sort of physical pain he might endure, however, as he realized who might actually be watching in the crowd.

"It would seem our lazy subject has finally arrived to accept his punishment, and thus, allow himself re-entry into our ranks. Jon...you have done our village a great disservice in leaving us behind, but I have graciously accepted your desire to return, and upon completion of your trials, I shall deem you a member of our ranks once again!"

There was a slowly building cheer as Jon marched across the arid dirt and sparse tufts of grass, until he felt a small kick at the back of his thigh. It was weak, but perfectly placed to buckle his knees and leaving him on the ground...the mere air as he sucked in a gasping breath was all he needed to taste to know that Terek stood over him, once again.

"Jon, as a deserter, you forfeit any right to a trial, or any right to request a lighter punishment. You are subject to whatever I deem acceptable tonight, and the punishment must be carried out in full view of the entire village, so that you might know the shame that they felt when you left them behind!"

The entire village. No...please no... The passage rang out in Jon's mind over and over again as his core clenched up, keeping his body from going fully off-balance and falling flat to his face. Though he didn't have any proper parents in the village, all of his closest friends would be there to see his embarrassment, and perhaps worse, a few of his cousins...regardless of how distant they might be, the mere thought of being blindfolded and tied up in front of them was mortifying.

Worse still, he'd been stripped of his excuse for a loincloth, leaving him fully nude in front of the public.

"Bring me the log...let's show this wretch the price that's to be paid for abandoning your own kind!"

Another cheer ran across the crowd, this time like a deep, powerful crack of thunder as Jon shivered in place, not knowing what to expect. He thought that his life might be forfeit; a log could merely be a club, and with one swift blow, Terek could end his life...and that would be the more merciful route. What was brought forth wasn't any sort of a weapon, however, but a long, thick log with a couple of branches that still clung to the trunk, whittled down for a very specific purpose.

"Good, good! Tie him down...we can't have him trying to back out in the middle of this, after all!"

Several otters were tending to Jon all at once now, and his body, weak as it was, was easily lifted onto the log with minimal effort. The temptation to make a break for it was lost long before he was ever placed on his knees, and any hope of escape was sealed away as his arms were freed, only to be wrapped up in ropes again and tugged down around the sides of the log. His body was forced to hug the fallen tree, and the small branches left were suddenly a very clever facet, as his paws were bound to them with thick, powerful ropes. Even at his fullest strength, Jon couldn't have broken free from them, and his hind legs weren't even allowed to continue shaking as they were tied down to the back end of the log. All that was left was his tail...and rope wasn't necessary to keep that lifted.

"I gave you every chance to apologize, Jon...and you didn't...so now, you'll feel the same humiliation your fellow otters did when you left them all behind!" Terek declared, as he walked around to the back of the poor, bound otter. Jon could only open his muzzle in a silent gasp as he felt his tail being tugged harshly out of the way, and pulled so tight that it stretched and strained the muscles within, until Jon felt a fierce burning just above his rear. The three otters who had helped to bind him to the log were then given their due, as the first of them, still nameless, rubbed his paws together eagerly and stared down into the tight, winking pucker of Jon's ass, knowing that he could do whatever he wanted with it.

Jon was at the mercy of whatever perverted wiles they could come up with, so it was nearly merciful that the first thing he felt was the brushing of a smooth, slick tongue across his asshole, offering it at least a little lubrication for what was still to come. "Don't go too easy on him, now. He has a lesson to learn," Terek reminded them, as the tongue slipped back and forth over the warm, tight entrance, only to start poking and prodding away at it, dipping the very tip of the tongue inside so that it could taste Jon as intimately as possible. He could feel his whole body shivering against the log as people watched on, and his ears flattened to try and drown out the sadistic voices of their cheering.

They wanted to see Jon be used as a sex toy, and it was just one more reminder to him of why he left the cruel, twisted place.

"He's shaking like a leaf on a tree," Terek joked, making a direct reference to how Jon was actually tied down. "He must really be enjoying this...don't stop now, boys!" he ordered, and no sooner than the words left his lips than did Jon feel a sharp, sudden prod at his backside, in the form of two thick, devious pawtips pressing against his tailhole and massaging all around the anus, forcing his inner muscles to tighten up and contract. He had to relax to keep them loose so that he wouldn't get hurt, but he couldn't find himself a comfortable place, just knowing how many different people were watching the display...and worse still, loving what they were seeing.

His paws clenched tight around the branches, his only respite, as one pawtip finally pressed past the firm, taut resistance of his asshole and penetrated him, finally drawing a deep, heavy moan from his throat and making him wince under his blindfold. "Nnnngh...ahhn! S-stop!" he cried, feeling the most unusual combination of pleasure from the touch, and yet, embarrassment at being made a literal example of. His maw hung open after he spoke, and deep, panting breaths carried forth as he tried to adjust to the feeling of the pawtip sliding in...slowly, past the first knuckle, easing up toward the second and forcing Jon's member to stiffen up against his own body, with nowhere else to grow.

The discomfort of the penetration, coupled with the way he was pinning his own cock to the log and the cheering crowd truly made Jon think things couldn't get any worse.

As his tail was released, however, he realized his one, last, fatal mistake.

His maw was wide open.

"Mmnnuf! Nnf!" he groaned, moaning around a sudden mouthful of thick, pulsing manhood as Terek took the open spot and slipped his cock right in, refusing to let any part of Jon go to waste in the moment.

"For just a moment, there was an air of hope around you, Jon...as if you really thought the worst of this was behind you..."

Jon tried to stay silent around his mouthful, but he felt a second pawtip grinding in against his anus to join the first, and quiet, pathetic whimpers vibrated all around Terek's impressive manhood, nearly buckling the knees of the imposing hunter.

"We're just getting started with you, old friend...and I think we've got a new position that you can fill...r-right away..."