FSE

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Hello, furs! It's been a while since I updated this story, but I'm back! I hope you enjoy this installment... And, as always, if you haven't read the rest of the series, this isn't going to make ANY SENSE AT ALL TO YOU! So please, go back and read. It's not that bad, I swear. :P

"...Hello?"

Silence greeted him. "Hey, Mic. Mic?"

Silas stepped into the living area of Micas's apartment, looking down to find himself shirtless, dressed in some loose-fitting pajama pants... They obviously belonged to his rabbit friend. He looked towards the couch to see sheets and blankets covering it, a messed up makeshift bed.

He rubbed over the pillow, and looked over his shoulder to the bedroom.

"It wasn't real..." He stared off for an unknown amount of time towards the bedroom, unsure of what he was feeling. At first, gladness.

But it felt... Silas then gazed at his surroundings carefully. "Hello?" The kangaroo bit his lip, brows furrowing, and padding toward the kitchen. "It felt like that because it wasn't real."

"Hm?" Upon entering the kitchen, he noticed a yellow piece of paper laying on the counter. Stepping cautiously closer to it, he leaned over and inspected the words written:

_Silas. You need to know.

They're gonna get you if you're not careful. I'm not going to lie to you. You are

being set up for some sick fantasies of a few rich tech-heads. Explaining it in

writing is a near impossibility. I left to make things right. Sorry for not saying.

350 E Green St. Apartment F. I took my gun, but my spare is under the sink, in a

hidden cabinet on the right. I keep it loaded. Extra ammunition is in the box of

Choco-Rings cereal in the cabinet under the microwave. If I figured them out like

I think, then it should be 10:34 AM as of the end of you reading this note. That

should give you plenty of time to prepare yourself.

This is real, Silas. You need to trust me. At 12:03, there will be four wolves at

the door. They will knock three times. If you do not answer, they will kick down

the door and enter. They will be armed. Shoot them. Once they are dead, I need you

to come to the apartment here._

The note seemed to end abruptly. Silas didn't notice. His knees shook as he looked at the clock.

10:34.

The yellow paper held tight in his paw, Silas stepped away, and leaned against the wall. "What the fuck... This isn't... This can't be real. This is just another fucked up..." And then, he stopped his breath. Looking towards the digital clock on the kitchen microwave, he saw it flip from 10:33 to 10:34.

Staring at the clock, the kangaroo seemed to be frozen in place. He didn't know how long he was watching the clock. But he couldn't quite believe what he saw. The digital readout switched from 10:33 to 10:34.

A minute later, the LED clock changed from 10:33 to 10:34. Silas felt sick to his stomach, and slowly started to stand. Watching the clock carefully, he saw it go back to 10:33. Three seconds later, it was 10:34 again. "This is..." he shook his head in complete and utter disbelief. "No..." He looked over the note again, then back up to the clock, just in time to see the time passage from 10:33 to 10:34.

Footpaws against tile floor made soft, unnoticed sounds. He knelt and opened the cabinet, peering into the darkened storage and spotting the outline of a square. Reaching for it, he found that it shook when his paw brushed against it. He pushed more firmly this time, and it swung open, Silas's paw almost immediately touching and gripping around the gun, pulling it out. Standing up, he stared down at the weapon, wondering how it fit so neatly into his paw... He looked up from the gun to the clock.

10:49. Fifteen minutes later. Silas gulped, and backed away from the clock, turning towards the cabinet above the microwave and reaching up to open it, pulling out the box of cereal and opening it, dumping it out. Six magazines for the nine millimeter pistol the kangaroo held in his paw.

10:50. Silas filled his pockets with all the magazines he could, and took a step back, breathing deeply. "Okay, Silas... Straighten shit out..." He stared around the room, and saw that the TV was on. He walked toward it, and saw the screen portraying a scientist, shaking a bottle of pills around and yelling.

"It's the cure! It's the cure! Take two and call me in the morning! It's the cure! It's the cure! Take two and call me in the morning!"

10:51. Silas shook his head, and backed away, heading for the bedroom again. He'd at least get some decent clothes on.

10:52. The kangaroo opened the closet, and started to rummage through Micas's shirts, eyes peeled for something he liked.

10:53. He found it. A navy button-down dress shirt that was his size, and a white tee to wear under it, as well as a pair of black pants. They looked like they'd be a little baggy, but they'd do for his situation.

10:57. The shirts fit great, but the pants were a little loose around the waist. He went back to the closet to retrieve a belt. Bad Porn.

10:58. Silas's ears pinned back to his head. Stacks of VHS tapes. All titled "Bad Porn." He knelt down, and grabbed the one on top, looking it over carefully. The sticker label was in red permanent marker.

10:59. In pencil, very faintly, was written:

11:00. Silas Craig + Micas Warner.

Silas felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. All the energy left his body, and he couldn't breathe. Reading the names over and over again, silently, screaming them in his head. "Micas..." He rubbed a finger over the name, and looked on the far end of the bedroom. There was a TV, and a VCR. Cautiously, and with shaky paws, he raised himself upright, and walked towards them both. With dry mouth and brief hesitation, he slipped the tape into the VCR, and turned on the TV.

"Micas... Oh, god..." Silas writhed on the bed, gripping at the sheets and arching his back upwards as he felt that agile lapine tongue lap across his tight, clenching pucker again and again. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, the warm, wet muscle wriggling across that untouched spot beneath his tail. "M-Micas... I want you to... I want you to..."

"Fuck. Me." Silas sat there, wide-eyed and sweating, his thumb on the stop button. The TV was blank, yet he stared anyway. "What the hell?"

11:12. Silas Craig + Jillian Craig.

"Oh, Jillian..." Sweat matted down the lovers' fur. Silas squeezed at his wife's breasts, his proud member disappearing and reappearing into and from her wonderful folds, the moistened, dripping lips caressing over his kangaroo cock, making it throb throughout his entire body a radiation of the most carnal of pleasures. As they mated together, Silas's paws slid down his wife's arms, rubbing her body over before they joined their paws in a passionate embrace, his mouth locking with hers as they kissed feverishly.

11:20. Jillian Craig + Ashley Redmond.

"AGH!" Silas cried out in pain as he was forced open by the huge, throbbing tigercock, his vaginal walls burning with pain, but his belly aflame with lust as he squeezed down on Ashley's large endowment, feeling her stiffness work its way in and out of his spasming pussy.

11:26. Silas slammed the stop button, and shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Tears flowed down either cheek, a confusion welling up in his gut and making him nauseous.

11:27. He made it halfway to the bathroom before he collapsed, his vision going white momentarily, a deep pain jarring him inside. "What is... wrong with me?!" He growled to no one.

11:35. Silas wretched, his arms hugging the porcelain bowl tight, as if it were his only comfort.

11:40. The tile felt cool on his back through the borrowed clothing. He still needed that belt. Tears stained his face.

11:41. Silas fastened the needle on the belt through the proper hole, and let his shirts drop down over it once again. He looked down at himself, and sniffed his nose, biting on his lip, whimpering through his teeth.

11:42. "What is this... What is it?!"

11:43. "I can't... this isn't right. This doesn't make any sense!"

11:44. "I want out! I want out of this fucked up nightmare!" He howled, staring at the ceiling.

11:45. "DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

11:46. "Kill me... Whatever the fuck you have to do to wake me up!"

11:47. "Just KILL ME!"

11:48. But that would be amoral.

11:49. Illegal.

11:50. We can't do that just yet.

11:51. We need approval.

11:52. "Who... who's there?"

11:53. "Who was that? Where are you?!"

11:54. Try to stay calm.

11:55. "Fuck that! Now I'm hearing voices?!"

11:56. You need to focus, Silas.

"Nngh... Oh, f...fuck..." The kangaroo fell backwards, his knees giving out. 11:57.

11:58. "G...god... Let me go!" He was caught by four paws. All of which started to rub and caress him over. "D-don't... Stop that!"

11:59. "Oh... shit... Uh-uuhhnn..." The fingers and palms pawed and gripped at his body lustfully, finding his nipples and pinching them, while two others dove down his pants... One started to stroke and firmly grasp his sheath, playing with his sac and the orbs within. The other slid along the crevice of his rump, toying along until it came to his entrance, pressing at it gently and repeatedly.

"St... Stop..." But it was futile. Four more paws materialized and attacked him, grabbing his arms and holding them still, then doing the same with his legs... The force behind the paws were strong, and he found himself completely unable to break free, his body squirming left and right.

He gulped down hard, feeling himself get aroused, his kangaroo maleness already rock hard under the sudden... Almost perfect attentions of the hands rubbing, scratching, stroking...

"U-uhh," he groaned quietly, as one paw slowly gripped and stroked along the pink flesh, another paw materializing and undoing the kangaroo's pants, sliding them down little by little to his ankles, then returning to Silas's crotch, gripping at his balls and giving them a gentle tug and squeeze, complementing the efforts of the phantom hand palming the kangaroo's shaft.

Above those paws were others. Silas was lifted higher in the air, four feet off the ground now as he was held captive by the disembodied hands. He choked on a moan, tugging and trying to break free, but unable to do so, the paws on his nipples giving them another pinch and flicking a single finger over them, again and again, shockwaves and tinges of pleasure mixing with the ones wrought elsewhere.

Silas still felt that single finger pressing against his ass, and he resisted, but the pressure kept getting harder and harder... He opened his mouth to shout, but another paw shot forward and filled it with two fingers, muffling the sound with its fist. The fingers began to rub in and out against his tongue and roof of his mouth. The finger on his ass pressed in again, and broke the surface, spreading open his walls as it pushed its long, dextrous fingers in.

"Mmnnn!" Silas called out, now breathing more heavily than before, his fur matted down once again. He felt that fiery, building pressure in his loins, and struggled less and less. Fingers pawed, pinched, stroked, tugged, pushed, pulled, squeezed, caressed, touched, and Silas couldn't take it anymore. He felt his orgasm hit, and he shot all over himself, groaning into the fingers in his mouth, which stopped their movements within, along with all the other paws, except for the one milking his cock.

12:00. "Mm... Mmnh... No... Let GO!" Silas tried to sit up, and gasped for air, his brow covered in sweat. The paws disappeared, and he dropped, hitting his head against the corner post of the bed.

12:01. He looked at the bedroom clock just in time to see it change. He glanced over himself, going to pull his pants back up, only to find out that they already had been. Pant, huff, pant. Silas fought to control his breathing.

12:02. His mouth was dry again, as he stared. Reaching back, he grabbed for Micas's gun, making sure he had a good grip, finger on the trigger.

12:03.