# The Contract

Author: SwampRat
Tags: Death, Drowning, M/M, Zoophilia

CONTRACT.TXT  
  
The Contract Version 1.30  
By Jack, and SwampRat  
(cl) 1991, 1998 Gay Furry Association  
  
A note - This one started off with a single line.. "His lungs wanted a new  
supply of air.." And I got to thinking.. How would it be to drown in Cum? From  
there it was hang a story around a few sex scenes.. Just like any Trashy Novel  
Writer does.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
He awoke, tied wrists-to-ankles. A hand slapped him. Helped him up to his  
knees. "Good Evening, Gusseppe." The man stood over him, pulled out a huge  
cock. He watched, as the gloved hand stroked the maleness to full erection.  
"Oh, no.. You can't be ser.. Wait!" A wire was attached to his jaw, stopping  
him from pleading further. The penis was shoved into his mouth. He gagged,  
feeling the shaft press his tongue down.. Heaved as the tip slid deeper into  
his throat, setting off his gag-reflex. It continued onward.. What the hell was  
he doing? The criminal was soon to find out! Fingers pressed into his neck.  
'Yeah, get your jollies, weirdo', he thought.. 'But when I get out of this, I  
promise you it will be more than My cock that gets shoved in Your mouth..  
Damnded Faggot!'  
  

  Gus had been holding his breath, the though of smelling the man's crotch  
setting off a new wave of nausea. But, his body was rapidly using up what  
oxygen the present lungful had. So, he tried to exhale. The flap that kept food  
out of his esophagus refused to open. What? Lights danced in front of him. He  
twisted, trying to dislodge the cock that blocked his throat. A gloved hand  
held his head still.. Now desperate, he tried to bite the penis. Even though  
blood trickled down his chin, the wire held his mouth open enough to keep the  
teeth away from the choking meat. In a last-ditch effort, he swallowed, using  
his tongue to excite the man. He could worry about what he was doing later..  
Right now, his life was on the line. Pleasure twanged at his nerves, as he did  
things to the man he wouldn't do to his wife!  
  
It worked! The hips moved back, dragging the stopper upwards.. Air rolled out  
of his nostrils. He quickly inhaled.. Tried to hold it. But his body wanted  
more.. Again he emptied his lungs. Filled them again. The scent of male musk  
was in his nose. He sucked, tears streaming down his face. Semi-blinded, he  
felt the dick move in his mouth. Out.. In. A little faster. Everything  
stopped.. The wire was cut, and removed. Now, both hands held his mouth in  
place. The cock filled his gullet, nudged his tonsils.. He nursed on the  
maleness like a bottle of good scotch. The man gave a groan, and the hose  
flexed. Cum shot out of the flared head. Poured down his throat.. Gus gulped it  
down, then stained his pants, as orgasm hit. The beast that fed on pleasure  
came to the fore. It growled, sucked wantonly.. Swallowed the cock to the hilt,  
feeling the balls slam into it's chin. Pulled back to breathe, and nuzzle the  
penis. It no longer mattered what his body did.. He was Alive! That was what  
mattered.. Even so, he nursed the last slimy drops out, his own cock jerking  
and dribbling. Collared the penis with his lips, holding it in just a moment  
longer. Giving it one last lick.. "You did a good job - For an amateur.." He  
clenched his teeth, dropped his head so the man wouldn't see his hatred. Shame  
burned through him.. The man left. Fuck! I actually enjoyed that.. "Damn  
Bastard," he muttered, licking at the places the wire had cut his mouth..  
  

  Gus tried his bonds.. Found them to be tight.. But perhaps loose enough to work  
free? A snort got his attention. A donkey was led towards him. No.. It's  
bat-sized dick swayed in front of him. "Since you obviously enjoy cock, I  
thought you might like one bigger than mine.." His head was firmly grasped. Gus  
tried to scream, as the firehose was thrust into his mouth. The animal snorted  
over him, and stomped it's hooves. A gloved hand fed another bit of oiled flesh  
into his overly-stuffed maw. Then they left him, to play with the fat balls  
hanging between the furry legs.  
  
The mule snorted again, hunching. His dick moved the man's head back and  
forth.. At least he could breathe. His tongue tried to shove the huge cock-head  
out.. and only succeeded in making the animal hornier. It grunted trying to  
shove more into the tight opening.. The man bent, and whispered in his ear..  
"You are the one who sent two men to kill my Mary.." Gus felt fear build in  
him. He felt the strong chest press against his head. A hand went down, undoing  
his fly. A finger sought the hole in his underwear.. Found it! His cock, proud  
and fat slapped the open palm. It was grasped. Gus's mouth was too full to  
allow for speech. "They precede you, but not for long.." What was the crazy  
bastard talking about? "You killed one of my lovers.. Now you go to another.  
Enjoy what time you have left.." No! A hand stroked the length of donkey cock  
that was stuffed in his mouth. The animal brayed.. Shuddered. Another inch was  
forced in. His head was locked in place by an arm that felt like an iron band.  
This time, when the haunches pulled back, dick-meat moved. The splayed tip went  
deeper. The other hand still jerked on his penis. Gus's overworked balls were  
released, and he jerked, sucking on the donkey. The animal brayed again... Cum  
poured into his mouth. He tried to swallow.. To breathe. Thick semen clogged  
his nasal passages, pressure forcing it down his gullet.  
  

  Adrenalin, fired by his orgasm, burned up the oxygen in his bloodstream. His  
overworked body demanded air. He got a half-breath.. Donkey-cum went into his  
sinuses, as he choked. A cough only made things worse.. Gusseppe was literally  
drowning in ejaculate. Desperate, he tried to swallow, get his air-passage  
free.. The other hand was now on his nuts, as the first worked his dick, hard  
and fast. He tried to plead, to scream. Deft manipulations had him hard and  
ready again.. At least the river stopped... Then he did scream, as the animal  
wrenched his jaws apart, stuffing half it's cock down his throat. Then his own  
jerked, semen spurting out of the battered penis. His nuts were given a vicious  
squeeze.. Pleasure dug his grave and orgasm shut the coffin lid. Gus howled,  
what air he had left forcing it's way out beside the hose, that still poured  
warm cum into his stomach. Then it was pulled back.. At last... The vacuum in  
his chest was replaced.. But his mouth was too full to take air in. A river of  
spunk came out of his sinuses, flowed out of his nose. The sticky stuff filled  
the air spaces in his lungs. He choked. Coughed. Died..  
  

  The hips thrust the still spurting cock thorough the grasping fingers, while the  
mouth and throat pulled what scum was left in the donkey dick out.. At last the  
man in black got up, moved the tired animal, and smeared the dripping tip  
against the wide-open mouth. Then he led the jack to one side. Turned off the  
machinery, that had recorded the scene. Went over to the body, closed the  
mouth, and the staring eyes. Made sure there was no pulse. Took a picture of  
the face. Lifting what used to be a human up, he grinned as it made a squishing  
sound. "Told you not to drink so much.." He tossed the body on his shoulder and  
walked out of the barn.  
  
\* \* \*  
  
Mister Harrae sat in his chair, reading the morning paper. A letter came by  
courier.. With a box. He glanced at it. The boys had already put it through the  
usual tests.. But more carefully since a vase that cost more than 3 of their  
lives had been broken to shards. Inside the envelope was a photo.. He hit a  
switch. "Jonas, Get yer Butt in Here!" Jonas, if he had a last name nobody knew  
it, came running. When the Old Man was mad, his speech broke. "Yes, Mr.  
Harrae.. Damn." He stared at the picture. Gusseppe Verdias had vanished a few  
days before. And he had taken a few of the 'boys' with him.. Now it seems that  
he hadn't left after all.. The letter was handed over, as the Old man carefully  
unwrapped the box. "You probably don't know me, Mr. Harrae. My name is Delgald.  
I once worked in your organization. For some reason, somebody didn't like the  
fact I retired.. Somebody sent a few gentlemen to persuade me to come back.  
They killed one of my two great loves.." He looked up. "Bio?" The man grunted,  
carefully feeling for hidden wires. "On it's way." Some genius had though of  
getting a profile on all Mr. Harrae's employee's. Easier to keep track of  
certain facts that were sometimes needed..  
  

  Inside the box was an ornate clock. It was made of clear plastic, so you could  
see the workings. A note came in through a chute. Mr. Delgald.. Some background  
information. A termination schedule, with the last box empty. At the bottom was  
a quote.. "I have only 2 loves. Mary, and Death. One gives me money, the other  
physical pleasure.. Both bring me joy." "Mary?" He shook the photo. "This  
bastard killed my right-hand man over a woman?!" Jonas took the paper. A  
thought struck him.. "No, Sir.. A Pony." Some of the buttons had called him  
'Horse-Fucker' - Somebody who is so deep into betting, he would sleep with a  
horse of he thought it would get him a win. But Delgald didn't gamble.. So he  
asked. Seems the man had a pony named 'Mary.' And no girlfriend. Nor a  
boyfriend, not that That mattered any longer.. Anybody who wanted to could work  
for The Company.. Just keep your perversions to Off-Time. And don't get caught.  
  
Once, a punk had sneered that maybe Delgald didn't have any balls.. That  
perhaps Mary would like a Real Male.. The missile, for Mr. Delgald was deadlier  
than any torpedo, had smiled. "Perhaps.. But first, you have to find one." The  
kid was half-drunk and way too cocky, or he would have known better.. "Oh,  
Yeah? Well maybe I'll just fuck your little mare.." A whisper told him to watch  
his mouth.. He ignored it, along with some sharp glances.. The man turned, and  
looked at him. "Oh?" He laughed.. "Yeah! And when I'm done, I'll use her hide  
for a seat cove.." The \*phht\* was barely audible. His eyes rolled upwards, as a  
hole formed in the middle of his head. Then everything from the ears up turned  
into hamburger all over the ceiling as the explosive went off. The body slid  
down a wall. "You may only have one of my mistress's.." The grin was as deadly  
as a cobra's. He whirled the silenced weapon and re-holstered it. "What do I  
owe you Eddie?" Eddie, who was in charge of recruiting, spat at the body.  
"Nothing.." He waived at the mess. "Anybody can see he had no brains.." A weak  
chuckle came from the hardliners..  
  

  So, Delgald screwed horses.. Jonas had learned about this when he asked about  
the new joker.. And found his ticket had been punched. He talked to Delgald  
about it. "If you found another man in bed with your wife.. Would you jump in  
with them?" A dark grin. "I would.. But then again, I'm not much for women.."  
The clock chimed softly.. "It's wrong." He looked at his friend, and  
'Lieutenant.' "What?" The man looked at his watch.. "It's not 12 yet..." The  
last chime softly rang in the air. Jonas looked at the inscription on the back.  
'You may only have one of my mistresses..' His skin crawled.. The old man  
snorted, feeling the tension drain from him. "Set to the correct time, and put  
it on the wall.." He crumpled the paper. "Jonas, the file on Mr. Delgald is  
incomplete. Please update it.." He nodded and left. That meant a contract.. On  
somebody who called Death his mistress. S-H-I-T!  
  
\* \* \*  
  
Jonas sat in his office, still debating who to send, when his secretary buzzed.  
"Sir, there's a Mister Fony Pucker on the line.. Says it's about retirement.."  
He immediately stabbed the button.. "Delgald.. How the hell?" A chuckle cut him  
short. "Listen well.. You have 3 minutes to decide which you prefer.. Life or  
My Mistress. The Express Elevator takes 2 minutes to reach the lobby.. another  
30 seconds for someone to make it out the door.. If they are in good shape."  
Jonas had been going to a gym most of his adult life.. "What? Wait!" The voice  
came back, cold as the grave. "For friendships sake, I have made this call..  
You may still make it.. If you run." The click in his ear was deadly.. It took  
very few moments to decide.. He was out of his chair, and had his arm around  
Jane's waist in a second. "No time.." He panted at her squeal. They hustled to  
the elevator, pressed the button. It took forever to come.. When the doors  
opened, he jumped in, pulled the woman beside him. "Bomb.." he snarled.. "We  
have a minute or so before it goes.. The Bastard actually Called me..." All her  
working life Jane had called this man lover. And someday hoped to call him  
husband.. She didn't ask questions then. She didn't now. The elevator was  
halfway down, when the building shuddered.  
  

  \* \* \*  
  
The top floor of the building lifted a few feet, as half the section below it  
turned to rubble. Then collapsed. Only the structural reinforcements that had  
been placed in the walls, on Mr. Harrae's orders, kept it from falling. Those  
not hurt by falling debris, got out of the building.. Buttons flashed on a  
panel for a moment, then a computer noticed something was moving too fast.  
Brakes clamped down, slowing, then stopping the cage. It slid down to bump  
against the basement lock. The man sitting at the console shut-down the top 3  
floors, and then reset the alarms. When the all-clear signal came, Jonas found  
himself very much alive, and whole. The doors opened and he stepped out. Jane  
was a bit shaken, but unhurt. In fact, the damage was all on The same floor..  
Mr. Harrae's personal suite. Police and fire trucks arrived, along with the  
reporters. Most of them were questioned, then released. Jonas and a few key  
others, spent a sleepless night in the local jail, talking to detectives. It  
was finally chalked to Terrorists.. Many people had grudges against The late  
Mr. Harrae.  
  

  \* \* \*  
  
A man stood in the doorway. Jonas put his hand on the drawer that held his  
pistol. "You Bastard!" The hands went up, showing them empty. "Is that any way  
to treat the man who got you a big promotion?" The hand went back to the desk,  
just as empty. "Why have you come?" He noticed, even in the lighted room, the  
man had a chill shadow around him. "Retirement doesn't seem to agree with me..  
I came to see if you had any part-time jobs I might be able to do. On the  
agreement, when I Do retire, I Stay retired.. HEP-7 clocks are expensive."  
Jonas remembered back to that day. The clock Had felt funny.. A 3-foot square  
of Plastic explosives with four 12-inch strips, forming a box.. It's a wonder  
the building still stood! "I've never been good at desk jobs.." He grinned at  
the man. A folder sat on his desk.. Some upstart in the Company was making  
waives. The Wrong kind of waives.. Had knocked off a few people. Taken things  
from warehouses. "We have someone who's been selling drugs to minorities.." His  
voice trailed off. The room got colder.. A hand was lifted. "Folder." He gave  
the man a manilla envelope. It was tucked under an arm. "If this is true..  
Half-price." Jonas nodded. Handed the man $10,000 in twenties.. "Proof?"  
  

  "Your word.. The newspaper." The man turned. "Be careful, Wiseguy.. Or somebody  
may put You out of a job.." He was gone, before Jonas could get up. How the  
Fuck.. His monthly meeting with the IA was not pleasant either. "He's a  
dangerous psychopath.." His contact, nodded. "He's also cleaning out some  
rat-holes even We can't get to.. His reasons and methods are not our concern.  
Nor are they yours. As long as he does what we tell him to, he will stay ours.  
Same as you.. Understand?" Jonas understood.. But he also remembered a clock. A  
clock that made it through all kind of alarms. Past x-rays, and cordite  
sniffers. Even past His scrutiny.. "He knows me.. No, he won't tell anybody.  
Not even in jest. And before you think about punching his card.. Remember he  
got to one of the Five..." A grunt. "We read.. It was in the report." The man  
who kept his face shielded, and voice muffled, nodded to him. "Next time, Cafe  
Reone'.. In the office. Someone will meet you there." They left through  
different routes, at different times.  
  

  \* \* \*  
  
Six weeks later, Jonas read about one Jones Marrias. He had thrown a party for  
some friends.. Afterwards, Mr. Marrias took a walk on the balcony. The only  
problem was, The apartment Had no balcony. Drugs were found in his bloodstream.  
Some quantity more was scattered about his apartment.. Since nobody came or  
left afterwards, the police ruled it as an accidental death. He grinned and  
made a mental note to send the other ten grand..  
  
The End

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/GnDj98Xe