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After going through almost a week of different kinds of stalling, and the occasional moment of public embarrassment, it was no wonder that Ronnie was reluctant to leave the city with Duke, especially when he had no idea when he was ever going to make it back home.

His spirits were still divided between the attention that Duke gave to him, and the common sense realization that he couldn't live the way that he was much longer. His professors were completely out of patience with his excuses, and naturally, people were starting to reach out to his parents about the fact that he seemed to have gone missing.

If not for the drug that had been placed in his drink, he would have never boarded the train with Duke, after the fox invited him to stay with him on an extended business trip.

Duke was sure that Ronnie was starting to crack, but that didn't mean that he was above playing dirty to seal the deal. It seemed that Ronnie was warming up to him with each passing evening, but there was still a great deal of hesitance in the feline's eyes when he was told about going away for an even greater amount of time than he already had, and Duke, for his part, didn't care if he had to put a little insurance policy in Ronnie's coffee that morning.

The feline would awake sometime later, but in the meantime, he was barely cognizant, and his consciousness was fading fast as Duke helped him onto the train, making his way toward the private booth that he was given for the trip.

"If you knew that it was going to be a permanent move...well, you probably just weren't quite ready for that," Duke admitted. Ronnie was slumped against his shoulder, his footpaws scarcely shuffling as he made followed the fox blindly to the private cabin he'd reserved. Catching a few wary glances, Duke was quick to close the door behind them and close the blinds, as Ronnie collapsed into the bench seat on the train.

Duke was getting a little bit sloppy in his arrogance, but he'd covered his tracks superbly well, and he was sure that no one had any idea that Ronnie was the missing cat that was starting to pop up on the evening news.

The same feline was slumped over the bench seat, his rump stuck out into the common space of the cabin. It was a lucky coincidence for Duke, who was just planning on enjoying a quiet train ride to their new home.

"Hmmph. If you insist, Ronnie, I'd be more than happy to oblige you," he murmured, as he leaned down to brush the feline's tail out of the way. Ronnie was still fully clothed, but the long, thin rope of his tail was little more than a distraction over the perfect, tight muscles of a youthful, taut backside, and Duke was already licking the end of his own muzzle as he admired the sight, knowing that Ronnie couldn't do a thing to protest.

Duke only silently wondered if the feline would have done something about it, if he was fully aware of the situation around him.

Making sure that all of the windows were sealed tight, Duke turned and locked the door to his cabin as he felt the train starting to move. It would be at least several hours before the train had a reason to stop, and Duke was planning to take full advantage of the fact, as he unzipped the front of his jeans and yanked the belt free from its rings.

"Wonder if your backside is starting to get used to my rather gracious treatment?"

If not for the way that Ronnie's body still gently bounced and jumped at the subtle touch it felt, Duke might have actually felt a little bit of guilt in the back of his mind, as he pulled his cock free from the housing of his jeans and gripped the very base of it.

Precum was already drooling under Ronnie's tail as Duke allowed the tapered head of his member to press in to the sleeping feline's asshole, spilling a small trickle of clear, naughty fluid into the orifice and drawing a sleepy, mumbling groan from Ronnie, who was still fully unconscious, no matter how Duke tried to rationalized his actions.

It was clear that Duke no longer saw the poor feline as a person, but as little more than an object, his object, with which to do whatever he wanted.

"I don't hear any protest from you," Duke pointed out, though Ronnie wasn't able to offer a response, much less an argument. "In fact, it feels like you're just welcoming me right in..."

Enough precum spilled into Ronnie's anus to offer some kind of lubricant, and Duke gave a gentle thrust forward, spearing the sleeping feline on the end of his member. The quick, teasing hump came with lucky timing, as the train bucked forward and picked up speed just seconds after; a mistimed ram from the hips might have actually been dangerous to the cat, but Duke wasn't going to stop, no matter how bumpy the tracks were.

He'd put in what he thought was enough time to deserve everything that he was trying to get, and no matter what the outcome of his actions would be, he was never going to give Ronnie up. For all of his talk about being a womanizer, he was just a fox who was looking for a mate to call his own, and he was willing to go almost any length to keep the feline that caught his eye.

He knew that theirs was a relationship built an on unsteady bridge of lies...and he didn't care in the least.

"Such a g-good little bitch," he stammered, as another inch of his cock slipped inside of Ronnie's tailhole. The feline had been stretched so many times over the course of the week that his body offered little resistance, never quite having time to recover from the harsh, deep fucking that it received the night before. It made things a little easier on Duke, who used little more than precum and spit as lubricant for the forbidden act, and thankfully, the solution in Ronnie's drink was working to perfection, keeping the cat in the middle of a very long nap.

He barely even twitched as his inner muscles clenched around Duke, giving the fox an unintentional burst of pleasure. "I knew it...I j-just fuckin' knew you were loving this," he claimed, feeling no remorse about the deep trails of red that emerged from Ronnie's hips as his claws ran down the sides of the cat. Even the deep, painful scratches weren't enough to stir the kidnapped feline awake, and the thick, heavy SMACK of an open palm on a firm, tight ass cheek didn't do the trick, either.

Somehow, for Duke, it only made the act more pleasurable. He didn't mind that Ronnie was effectively pulling a dead fish; he was a control freak, through and through, and the fact that he was in utter control of the moment provided such a mental thrill that he barely even cared about the fact that they were having sex in such a public place...it was a minor excitement, in comparison.

"Feels like the train's going a little faster," Duke suggested, though Ronnie still offered no reply. "Why don't we...nnnfh... see if we c-can keep up?"

It was already a struggle for Duke to keep his load inside of his sack. The unconscious muscles in Ronnie's tailhole still clenched and squeezed around Duke with all of the skill that the feline had learned over the course of the week, but there was no complaint about why he hadn't learned the secrets of being a womanizer, and no constant badgering about how badly he needed to fly home. There was no whining, no obnoxious protests...

...There was only an unconscious feline, taking every inch of Duke's thick, vulpine cock and moving gently against the seat, aided by Duke's own hips.

The rest of the trip would be the same for Ronnie, but he'd have quite the surprise when he finally did stir awake; Duke made sure of that. The fox couldn't help himself, as he licked the end of his own muzzle with delight and held on tightly to the drugged feline, pounding his hips forth and slamming into Ronnie with such a vigor that his sack began to slap against Ronnie's thighs. It was a gentle touch, at first, but in such a great state of arousal, Duke couldn't help jack-hammering into the poor feline, moving his body so rapidly that it was nearly painful for him.

He knew that Ronnie would be sore when he awoke, but as far as he was concerned, the feline should be grateful, even as thick, virile cum sprayed across his inner walls and soaked them completely.

**

The groggy after effects of being drugged were something that Ronnie didn't have a lot of time to dwell on, and he wasn't actually sure that he had been drugged.

Duke assured him, and foolishly, Ronnie believed that it was food poisoning from the hotel that caused him to pass out and feel so terrible, but naturally, that didn't explain the slow, oozing drip of thick, white seed that poured from his asshole when he was shifting around in the bed.

Whether he was drugged or not, Ronnie knew that Duke had taken advantage of him, and he wasn't exactly thrilled with the fact. He just didn't know what he was going to do, now that he was even further away from home than before.

"Sorry that we're a little bit low on furniture. I was only able to spring for a bed and a couch before we ended up making the move," Duke explained. The new house that he'd purchased was vastly large, and it felt even larger, thanks to the utter lack of decorations and furniture. It was a completely new build, and Ronnie felt as if he was trapped inside of a cave the moment that he woke up, even when Duke's arms were still comfortably wrapped around his waist.

He wanted to rip himself away from the fox in the very next moment, but he stayed settled in. His confidence was completely shot, and his nerves, despite what Duke might have thought, were entirely on edge. "T-that...that's fine," he muttered, as he took a quick grip on his forehead. "What is this place? Why are we even here?"

"I told you that we were moving," Duke reminded him. "The food poisoning must have hit you pretty hard."

"I sure don't remember agreeing to move in with you, Duke."

"You never said no!" The fox taunted Ronnie, as he leapt up out of the bed and stretched out. He was almost mocking the feline with how great he felt, and the only consolation that he had to offer wasn't going to console Ronnie much at all. "Besides, I bought you a little present to help us celebrate the new house!"

Everything still felt fishy about Duke, and though Ronnie was sure by now that the fox was no womanizer, he was beginning to wonder if he was a businessman, either. The vulpine was still shrouded with mystery, and Ronnie was still too dazed to see through it as he tried to stumble out of bed.

"...What did you get me?"

"You seemed to have such a fun time playing 'dress up' in the city that I bought you some new threads!" Duke cheered. He reached into a small bag by the side of the bed and produced a pair of arm and leg warmers, both a terribly bright shade of pink. Netted gloves followed shortly thereafter, and the outfit, if it could be called such, was completed with a thin pair of panties, a ring gag and a butt plug.

Ronnie wanted to be surprised by what he saw, but there was little Duke could do to surprise him anymore.

"I...I don't know if I'd call th-

"Oh, just try them on!" Duke cut him off, before pulling his smart phone from his pocket. "And while you do, I'll be in the other room, taking a call. I want to see results when I get back!"

Ronnie could barely make his way over to the clothes. He slipped on one of the arm warmers and rolled his eyes as Duke left the room with a wide grin upon his muzzle...one that only grew wider as he conversed with an unknown party.

"I'll need you guys out here as soon as possible...I need you to help me mark my new property."