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Channel 7 News-Red Alert (Kelly Fable): What could have been a tragedy today, thankfully ended without any casualties... I'm here on site at the New Venice hotel and casino, where a chemical weapon was just detonated in the air ducts....Many are saying that this was a direct result of the furry convention being held inside... As you can see, there is this purple mist, covering the walls and convention attendees; apparently, this purple residue sedated the entire first and second-floor staff for nearly an hour, some are still recovering... The Police and CDC, are working in an association, to quarantine anyone affected by the attack, FBI, CIA, and Secret service are already on the scene aiding in the investigation... The entire block is under a federal blockade.... Wait... is that... focus on that Mincridarn. Isn't that a Red Paw? What is the Royal Mincarin Guard doing here? And looks who's following him? Isn't that First Captain Vance Ward; an MMO? A magical military officer is here? Could this have been a magical attack? Hey! He's coming this way..! Sir, Captain Vance, does the department American Magical Affairs think that this was a magical attack?"

Vance Ward: Ma'am, drop the camera this is a federal investigation? And stay behind the line; until we know; otherwise, it is dangerous for anyone else to be here. We will set up a press conference when we know more until then go back to your station; this is your final warning.

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The camera went dark, the screen going fuzzy as nothing else was heard once Captain Ward smothered the lens with his palm.

Connor balked at the horrific news, a white licked silver spoon hung from his lips, as he just sat and listened; that could have been him. He had bought tickets the day they came out, saved up hundreds of dollars just for an all-weekend VIP pass; Connor had the complete intention of going until it became the only weekend he could spend with what could have been his new Master. Which seemed like nothing but a mistake. In the end, Connor had shipped the pass to a friend online, a role-playing buddy, Amory452, who nearly died, metaphorically, when he got the gift... Connor's entire body sunk, had he just killed his friend?

The convention in question had been spreading like wildfire online, since Mincridarins were the ones setting it all up, "The Festival of Pride," was made to say thanks to the Furry community. The only people across the world who supported Mincridarins from day one, for obvious reasons, while the rest of the world cowered in fear of the strange new aliens. From day one, furries were the ones setting up riots in the streets to demand equal rights, regardless of race or origin, donated time and money to help build sanctuaries, and some volunteering their own homes, so Mincridarins they didn't have to live on Ecorein. If it hadn't been for the cringy community, the last few years would have wildly different.

Supposedly, there had been a rumor that King of Mincara and an association of high-ranking nobles from every country would make a one-day appearance; Connor had, had his doubts, but seeing a Red Paw agent. Something in his gut turned, and it wasn't his cereal.

"Damn, if someone had half-mind to do the right thing, they would have burned that place to the ground. That chemical stuff would make that whole place 'explode.'" Dad called out from the couch with an erupting gesture, glancing over the back of the sofa and at Connor, who wanted to vomit, seeing the vindictive smile.

"Dad... they are people..." Connor countered and thinking that there had to be some semblance of good still inside of him.

"People?" His mother scoffed, putting down her knitting needles, the metal clinking pausing for a moment, "Connor, you can't seriously believe those beast fuckers are people? We have laws that those disgusting pervs break all the time." Not a shred of shame, or empathy, her gaze was cold and hard as she turned back to the TV.

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Channel 7 News- Orange Alert Updates (Juan Lewis): In other news, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, are still struggling to retain the rising dead. The President of the USA, Arnold King, has decided to completely shut down the state borders, and blockade the ports to maintain the spirit based uprising. Our thoughts and prays here at Channel 7 News are with those that still live within those doomed states.

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"Those animal freaks ruined this world, they should all go back to their stupid world where they belong." Connor's mother continued, leering at the screen as she shook her head as a Mincridarn officer appeared alongside an MMO, to help push back a zombie attack.

The combat looked like a found film movie, it didn't seem real, the magical attacks, the incantations, the destruction, it all looked like it belonged in a theater... but those faces things they were fighting were once people, no matter what they were in their past, it felt wrong to see their bodies stolen.

Connor struggled to watch, and dropped the spoon into the glass bowl with a clang, "What those disgusting animals make you sick too?" Dad called from the couch as Connor cringed, finally snapping.

"NO! I'M FUCKING DATING ONE!"

Silence... the moment Connor's outburst ended, not even the TV made a sound. Connor cupped his mouth not out of shock for what he said, but because it felt wrong to say he was still dating Newport after what that rabbit had done to him, but it still felt good to say.

"You're what?" Dad asked, getting up from the couch, "The fuck did you just say, Connor?" Dad pressed as he came stormed closer, a barbaric rage exuding from every pore. Before Connor could even act, he found himself frozen, looking up at the living disaster in front of him.

"I-," Connor was smacked and silenced with the rough board hand, tears formed from the sharp pain, his father wasn't holding back, "The fuck you say?!" his father roared in his face.

"I-." Tugged forward by the collar of his shirt, he was smacked, forehand, backhand, the blows knocking his head to either side. "

"I'm dating one." Connor cried, before coughing in pain as he was slammed to the ground, his stomach stomped in with a barefoot, stealing his breath, his face becoming red as he suffocated, inhaling anything.

"Magic... I can fucking understand... every fucking kid is raised to think that magic is such a beautiful shiny gift." Connor's father picked Connor up by the back of his shirt, hanging him by the bunched up collar, dragging him outside, "But one of those animal abominations?"

Connor's face was slammed into the concrete patio, his nose breaking under the impact, blood trickling from his nose, copper dancing on the tip of his tongue. "Those bastards are the reason you're damn brother is dead. They killed them, and you want to suck their damn dick?"

"They didn't kill Neil-." Connor barely saw the punch before it knocked him on his back, the brutal blow split his lip, the knuckle falling into the round divot of his left eye.

"DON'T!

YOU!

EVER!

SAY!

MY!

ONLY!

SON'S!

NAME!

AGAIN!"

Each word came with a pronounced below, right, left-right, left, right, right... Connor was barely conscious by the time his father kicked in his ribs.

"Get the fuck out of my damn yard, you feral fucker, Before I take you to the fucking vet to be trimmed." Connor was already crawling across the pavement; he knew the way out, he didn't even hear his father's warning; all Connor knew was that he wasn't being punched, and now was the time to try and leave. He was done, his parents knew, they hated him like he expected; he was beaten to the verge of the precipice of consciousness; there was nothing left to do.

Blood drained from his swollen lips, his fingers clutched at the seams in the sidewalk, climbing the ground rather than crawling. He saw the red metal gate, it was his freedom, he'd be free once he crossed the threshold.

"I SAID GET OUT OF MY FUCKING YARD!" Dad roared once again, the metal clasp of belt slamming down on Connor's back, sending rivers of trauma up his spin, each blow knocking him into the ground, but they didn't impede him from crawling.

The buckle smacked the back of his head, and Connor nearly collapsed, his mind smothered by darkness for a solid moment, blinding him, bobbing his head he forced himself to stay awake

Each metal clanging slap was enunciated by Connor's father, who demanded him to move faster and faster, to crawl like his life fucking depended on it; because it very well did.

Then a loud metal bang, Connor felt himself become weightless and then smack, his body bounced and rolled down the of warm concrete, the driveway sloping into the gutter.

"Don't you dare ever come back, or I will put a fucking slug between your thighs!" The Masculine stranger warned, with the metal bang of a closing gate.

Connor felt as immobile as he was, he wasn't pinned, his body was just at an angle, shoulders pinned between the asphalt and the concrete sidewalk. His head bobbed in the air with audible pain, his shallow breaths escaping through a closed nose, and shocked throat. He couldn't speak; he barely breathed; he was just laying there, looking out across the road, desolate and deserted.

The dying day was silent, the night just starting to fall, but Connor knew he still needed to move. If he stayed, he might never see morning... the stranger might have second thoughts with a bleeding body lying out in front of his house. What felt like broken fingers fumbled and gripped at the tar wrapped stone road, pulling himself over, Connor continued to crawl across the street, he just needed to be out of sight.

By the time Connor crossed the road, the only way he knew he was awake was because he could still feel the dark, rough stones beneath his fingers. The darkness of the rising moon blinding him completely, and soon enough, the concrete which continued to pull himself across until he came just to the cusp of the suburbs.

Connor's one saving grace being the phone he still had in his pocket, fumble out on the concrete, his bleeding fingertips clicking the button to expose the warming light pushed back the darkness. His limp fingers traced the dots, and Connor smiled as he was met with a familiar blur of colors. A beautiful white sand beach, how he wished he was there now. He just wanted to smell the sea and watch the waves; he could listen to their rolling sounds for eternity...

Connor slumped ever further to the ground as he looked for the only person he could trust, he listened to the insistent ringing; until it suddenly stopped... Connor exhaled, as he laid his face on the warm concrete, the coarse stone feeling like compacted sand.

"Connor?" The pleasant voice answered.

"DA...gia...help..me."

"Connor... What happened? Where are you?" Dagia answered, her voice sharply transitioning.

"Sou...tth...Cac..tus..roood." Connor mumbled, before collapsing, and breathing in the warm brine of the sea... He heard nothing else but the rolling waves that greeted him, the cold water lapping at his toes, sometimes rolling higher up along his thighs.

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"Connor." A voice echoed from the summer set ocean, with dazzling waves.

Sitting up, Connor felt the sand shift beneath his hands; he breathed, and for a moment, realized he wasn't tasting copper. His cheeks didn't feel swollen, and as he watched the sand fall to his green camo swim trunks, he realized his chest was lightly waxed with sunscreen, much like his back.

"Am... I dead?" Connor asked the sea, the sensations feeling all too real to be considered some kind of illusion or dream.

"That is your choice, Connor..." The sea answered, the voice echoing from a cascading ripple that raced across the waters before dying on the beach, "Do you want to die?"

Connor shook his head, "No... but if I'm not dead, what is this place? Who are you?"

"Connor, you know who I am, and you know where we are. This is where we first met." The sea answered as Connor shifted to his feet to look into the lagoon and stepped into the water seeing the round ridge of a colossal shadow spread out across that protected reef. But not as some kind of ambiguous blob of darkness, but more like an aquatic shadow formed by a silver-lined cloud. The colors of the reef still shimmering through dulled, the sands were even and quiet beneath the waves.

"Can we not play the pronoun game? I hate all of this vague crap." Connor groaned, feeling like some Chosen hero from anime and movies.

"It is not my job to tell you who I am, Connor, I told you once; I will not repeat myself." The Shadow rioted, it's protest echoing in a ripple of red light that outlined its dark form. The water of the sea splashing up him like a roaring ocean, bashing up against stone crags. The brutal waves knocked Connor on his ass and drenched him with water.

"Sorry... I just don't remember." Connor apologized, wiping the water from his face, while the looming presence of the sea faded, the waters calming and returning back to the gentle collapsing waves.

"That is the point, you know my name, but only when you truly need me will you know it."

"You're still vague." Connor sighed as he swept the water from his face.

"No, you just think it's vague because you don't understand what it means at this moment. You humans must always live in the now, you need things now, you are never patient. The time will come when you will understand but till that time. Do not insult me again." The voice finished, the smooth water tones, shifting as the sea came up like a tidal wave and slammed into the sand.

The wind knocked from Connor's chest, made him gasp and cough, his body burned, it ached and screamed. Hands touched Connor's face, he barely flinched, his mind numb to everything; all that he knew was that he seemed like he was back in the real world.

"Connor, breathe, just breathe." Dagia sounded panicked, her bright yellow eyes looked scared, "Just stay with me Connor," She demanded as her arms came up and lifted Connor's limp form and carried him into a nearby taxi.

"Get us back to Red Rock human." Dagia snapped after closing her door, smacking the back of the headrest, bending it forward. The Hispanic driver clearly terrified, nodded, "Yes, Ma'am."

Connor didn't remember the drive or falling asleep, he just remembered waking up on a couch in a new and strange living room. A Vaulted white ceiling with tan walls, it looked like any ordinary house at; first, even the couches looked distinctly modern, but it wasn't. The suit of polished bear armor hung on a rack just behind the sofa.

Pulling the cold compress off his head, Connor tried to sit up, but he grunted, screaming behind clenched teeth, his chest cried, demanding him to stop moving, so Connor slumped back onto the pillow. He was naked, his chest wrapped in green glowing bandages.

"Don't touch the bandages Connor," Dagia ordered from behind, leaning back, Connor watched as the wolven mother wearing nothing but smothering white bandages around her breasts, sat down and lifted his head. Connor couldn't stop her from pouring a viscous sludge into his throat that tasted of rotting berries. His fingers dug into the couch as he swallowed the disgusting mass, before looking at Dagia for answers.

"It's a vitamin overload Connor, whatever attacked you nearly broke one of your ribs. The bandages are helping heal cracked bone, while the medicine will help you recover everything else." Dagia answered as he pushed the nipple of a silicone feeding bottle into his lips, "Just suckle Connor, this isn't for pleasure."

Connor exhaled and obeyed, suckling on a bottle full of ice-cold milk, Dagia shifted to the couch, removed the pillow from under Connor's head so she could lay his head on her lap. The warm thighs were nothing more than a dense, coarse pad; however, it was more pleasant, as it allowed him to drink from the bottle with little issue. Dagia said nothing, no touching, no playing just feeding and waiting patiently until the bottle was finished at which point after Connor was suckling on nothing but air, rolled him on to his side and smacked his back to burp him. Thankfully, Connor had enough control to close his lips and not trumpet the excess gas, though doing so did make him sound somewhat frog-like with the burp echoing in his throat.

Connor blew the gasses from his lips into the palm of his hand, after he was rolled over and on to his back; Dagia set the bottle down on a side table before looking down at Connor, "Connor, what happened? Who attacked you?"

"My Dad..." Connor answered, knowing that with Dagia, there was no point in beating around the bush.

Dagia shook her head in disbelief, "Was he training you, why would he beat you like this?"

"Because I'm dating a Mincridarn... or at least I was. My dad disowned me." Connor wearily replied, his mind caught on the idea that he was still going to end up on the street; he had no home. He couldn't trust Newport, he had no one he could trust; except for Dagia.

"Was? Did you and Master Newport get into a fight?" Connor nodded.

"He branded me," Connor exhaled, taking a moment to answer, "He branded my soul Dagia; without my permission. That goes against everything we agreed to do. I can barely look him in the eye." Connor answered, and Dagia's eyes went wide with shock, "Master Newport branded you without permission... why would he do that, Connor?"

"He did it to protect me, apparently with my soul branded, he can sense my pain... I know why he did it, and I can see why he would want to do it, but he didn't tell me about it. He just branded me... I want to hate him, I want to punch him in the face and knock him into next week...." Connor stirred with pent up aggression, his hands balling into fists before he felt too broken to keep them tense, "But I still love him..." Connor admitted, his body shaking and contorting as he cried in pain, every sharp whimper made his chest spasm and clench in all the wrong places.

"He betrayed me, and I still love him..." Connor cried behind his hands to hide his shame from Dagia, he didn't want to look so pathetic in front of her, " I don't know what to dooo..."

"Connor... Connor, please calm down, I know you're upset, but your crying is only going to agitate your wounds." Dagia counseled, pulling Connor's face into her stomach as she stroked his ear... "Shh, Connor, just breathe, in and out. Focus on your breath, not on the pain; you can't make decisions while your emotional; you will only hurt yourself."

Connor clutched at the warm chest, his shaking breath echoing her words, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out, his tears finally subsiding, his chest still heaves with panting bouncing whimpers.

Dagia rolled Connor back onto his back and cleaned his eyes with her knuckles and thumb. "Ok, just breath, and tell me if you why do you still care for Master Newport. IF he betrayed you, why do you still want to be with him?"

"He's one of the few people who willing to try and do just about anything with me. I don't have to hide anything about what I like and who I am when I'm with him. I feel like I could talk to him about anything, and it could still be a sensible conversation. He's talented and smart, he works for Red Rocks research and development for god's sake..." Connor exhales, slapping his thighs in frustration, "I wish I could be somewhat like him-" Connor chuckled at the parallelism, "I guess I am kind of like him now... we both got disowned by our families."

Dagia nodded, "Now if you understand why Master Newport branded you, why does it still bother you?"

"Because it's not me, there are people on the internet, way more depraved then me, people who bend over backward and do anything their master says even mark and get their bodies tattooed and branded. They give up their entire lives just to serve and do nothing else. That's not who I am. I want to be played with. I want toyed with and serve as any slave should, but I still want to have my own life. When I go to bed, I want to feel like I'm still myself. I don't want to go to bed thinking about what to serve my master for breakfast or create a plan on how to do tomorrow's chores. I want to know that I have tasks, and they are obligated, but if I can't do them, just right, it's not a death sentence. I want time to do what I want, maybe not when I want, all the time, of course; I just don't want to give up what I like doing just because it's not proper or part of the training, or because a slave shouldn't do that." Connor exhaled, rubbing his forehead as he answered, looking up at Dagia when he was finished.

Dagia nodded in understanding, or at least to show she was listening, "So being branded, it was if you lost the choice to be yourself? To have your own life?" Connor nodded, and Dagia sighed, "Connor, did you ever talk about this to Master Newport?"

"Yes, and he still did it, that's why I'm still pissed, why I don't want to be around him."

"Connor, from what I understand, you can never remove this mark; what is done is done. But have you once consider the chance of letting Master Newport set things right?"

"Yes, and what if I do get back to him, and he just does another thing that I can't reverse? What if this is going to be a cycle of me just returning to him only to get scared and marked every time I do?"

"Then there will be repercussions Connor, if he is abusing you, I will protect you. You have my number, and we will see a lot of each other; I will make sure of that. But for all the hate you must feel towards him, consider the possibility he can change, and this might never happen again. As Mincridarins, we strive to never make the same mistake twice, and if Master Newport loves you as much as he seemed to this morning when he called me, I am sure he will do whatever it takes to make things right. Be wary, yes, but don't abandon him; give him one last chance, Connor." Dagia pressed, massaging Connor's shoulder.

"I want too.... I just need some time away from him." Connor agreed as Dagia pat Connor's shoulder.

"You have to recover from your wounds, so you are more than welcome to stay here until they have healed. But when that is done, you will sit down with Master Newport, this is not up for debate. Take another chance, or abandon him, the choice will be yours, but you will look him in the eye when you make it." Dagia finished as she pulled the pillow under Connor's head, "But for now, sleep well," Dagia added, getting up a to grab a bundle in a nearby basket.

Tapping the folded blanket, she looked down at Connor with the softest smile, "Do you want me to change you into a diaper before I tuck you in?"

"No... I can use the bathroom Dagia...I'll be fine."

Dagia nodded, as she flicked out the blanket over Connor's form, "Well, if you do go to the bathroom, we're light sleepers, so try not to make too much noise."

"Yeah, ok," Connor grunted as he felt him get stiffly tucked in, "Dagia... The blanket is a little tight, I can't move..." Connor tried to lift his arms, but they were bound to his sides, both watching and feeling as Dagia tucked the excess underneath the couch cushions. This wasn't some merely lack a daisy shoving, to merely get it out of the way, Dagia was wrapping the blanket around the bottom of the cushions too; by the end of it, she was even pulling out the excess and letting the fringe hang out and off the side of the couch.

Connor squirmed, just the smallest bit panicked as he looked up at Dagia who rubbed his stomach, he was effectively bound, he couldn't move let alone wriggle out of the blanket's hold. "I know Connor, I don't want you to fall off the couch and hurt yourself. Your rib bone is deeply cracked," Dagia explained as she stroked the injury with a swipe of her finger, "IF you fall on this bone, or it gets broken, it could puncture your lung, and you could drown in your own blood. I'm doing this, so you don't get hurt."

"But, I can't use the bathroom Dagia," Connor whined sensing that may have been the intention from the beginning. Her smile only confirmed the idea as she leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Don't make a fuss Connor, you're in my house now; and I take good care of all my cubs."

And of course, he had to be right, she wanted him to make a mess just so she could wrap him around her little finger... She had cubs, and a mate, they'd see everything. Connor paled, as he watched the wolven mother tuck a thick teething plastic nub behind his lips, a green pacifier meant for a Mincridarn cub; it had to be her little bear cub's pacifier; a point driven home because of the dense plastic he couldn't manipulate with his tongue or teeth.

Walking off to the corner of the room, Dagia hit the light switch, her bright eyes cut through the darkness. A sinister though playful energy shining in her smiling gaze. "May the Gods be with you while you sleep Connor....try and not make too much of a mess."

Then, just like that, Dagia was gone, her shadow disappearing down the hall with soft claw clanking steps, leaving Connor to suffer in silence, feeling the inevitable urge between his legs grow...The cruel witch had him right where she wanted him to be...

But if she wanted him to wet himself, to ruin her couch, then who is he to stop his natural urges?