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Belly of the Beast

Conrad stared out at the open sea, running a sea-soaked paw over the top of his head, finding the view of the far horizon soothing to his addled mind. The water was frigid to the touch, but now he had fully submerged himself he would swear it was warm. He wore nothing but the fur he was born in, the thick brown-grey tufts floating listlessly in the greenish seawater. His tail curled around his legs beneath the surface, leagues of darkness falling away beneath him. The waves were calm today, the only sounds to his ears those of the creaks and moans of his ship, the Dream Eater. She was a large mother of a whaling ship, with two strong masts and a crew of three-dozen strong. She was to his back now, for he stared outward, his mind and thoughts belonging only to the sea.

It vexed him, how could a thing that plagued him so, as the great seas west of Edolia did, bring such calm? Such clarity? He was scourged with worry and darkness every hour of the day, yet he dreamed of the sea, of its depths, of drowning.

_No. _Conrad thought, stirring as he heard men on board readying the deck for a new day of sail. _It is not the sea that plagues me so. It is the beast that calls it home. _He pictured it now. Fifty-six meters of seemingly impenetrable smooth leathery hide, with thick tendril like limbs trailing behind it. He'd only once seen the beast open its maw, and then it created a vortex among the waves that sucked in everything around it. When it came to breach, the ocean exploded.

Conrad would slay that beast, if he had to crawl inside and throttle the life from its heart with his bare paws. That creature stole Theodore's mother, Conrad's wife. Their marriage had been one of necessity and circumstance, but they'd made a pleasant life for themselves nonetheless. It all changed that fateful August night. He sometimes felt guilt shroud him like mist, wondering if he loved her more in death than in life.

Conrad shivered, despite the warmth of the water.

"Hark, Captain overboard!" One of his men, Willard, cried good-naturedly from the ship deck. Willard was a homely bear short of one leg, replaced some years ago with a squat wooden stick. The sailors liked to fool he was the Dream Eater's mother-bear. Conrad had recruited him after some voyage hunting Cogwhales off the Nasson coast years prior. He'd noted then Willard's cautious smile, attentive eyes, the way he made sure every man aboard felt welcome, with both a full belly and a full heart. Admirable qualities, it had always been Conrad's talent to see them.

"Steady yerselves, I'm comin' up!" Conrad called back, drifting back in the ocean. He gave one final look out the great expanse of the sea. Pinmites feasted on the fur around his legs, their little crustacean exteriors wiggling in delight as they caught loose bits of aging skin that had flaked free. He was in the same water as the beast. They were the same, he and it; wild creatures of the blue. Predators. It had stolen his wife, and he would claim its life.

Or, he would die.

Resigned, Conrad turned in place and paddled to the side of the Dream Eater, taking a firm grasp of the ladder and lifting himself up. He kicked the pinmites free, not wanting to tread sea vermin on deck. His old wolf body sagged, the water streaming off him in a dramatic spray as he ascended. His knees and elbows popped as he finally reached the railing, hefting himself over with a grunt. Willard handed him a large cloak, and Conrad gratefully accepted it, wrapping himself and shivering, hiding his nudity.

"How you do it is beyond me." Theodore said, approaching. The young brown wolf was of broad shoulders and fine make, and he evidently knew it, padding around the deck in only his undergarments like some peacock. "Honestly father, you must be mad to get in the water as you do. After all, it is where that _thing _lives. I'd worry it were to sneak up on me and... well..." He snapped his teeth shut with a clack, grinning.

The beast. Conrad exhaled; it was harder to hold onto his thoughts outside the water. They skittered and scampered away from him, distracted by his duties. Across the deck, wolves and foxes hurried to get the ship ready for sail, surreptitiously eyeing Conrad, Willard, and Theodore as they did.

"Bah." Conrad said, waving a paw dismissively. "The beast hunts at least several dozen leagues north of here, we're days away." Besides, Conrad knew, if the beast decided to attack them outright, it wouldn't matter if they were on the ship or not. He frowned at his son, the boy's stomach and chest rippling with firm muscle and freshly brushed fur. "You should be dressed Theodore, it's indecent."

"Children do so love to play in their underwear." Willard added, chuckling even harder as Theodore glared.

"You'd be one to talk, father." The younger wolf replied, jerking his chin upward. "You're not only basically naked, but also sopping wet! Thankfully, there are no poor women aboard who must be subjected to your... maturity." Theodore smirked, as if he thought he were terribly clever. Conrad shifted beneath the cloak, conscious that his son had a point.

"Mind yer tongue, lad!" Willard growled, smacking the back of Theodore's head and eliciting a short yelp from the boy. "Not only is yer father the Captain, but he's been down to the water. Or would ye suggest he take his bath in full parade dress?"

"Well, I..." Theodore began, starting, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "That isn't to say..."

"Are _you _off to take a dip too, lad?" Willard asked, one big paw closing around Theodore's bicep. He tugged the wolf ever so slightly toward the edge. "Surely yer not out here merely prancing about in your trunks for the sheer delight of it? Let me help you in."

"N-no! No! Willard, stop!" Theodore cried, putting his arms out and locking his elbows against the railing. The bear stopped immediately, relaxing. It took the young wolf a moment to calm himself, and he stared over the edge with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Theodore had a strong fear of the deep, yet he chose to come out here with Conrad and avenge his mother anyway. The boy was a fine young man, youthful impertinence notwithstanding.

"Let the boy alone, Willard." Conrad chuckled, clapping Theodore on the shoulder. He leaned in close, whispering to his son, his paw tightening. "Steady now boy, we'll have this thing killed and be back on dry land soon enough."

"I'm sure." Theodore replied, straightening. "If you'll excuse me father, I need to... get dressed." Conrad dismissed his son with a wave, giving Willard a stern look before heading toward his quarters. He left the cloak hanging outside the cabin, padding into his modest room fully nude. He had bathed with the other men on occasion, for morale, and Theodore was right - there _were _no women aboard, and so his undress was perfectly decent. The only reason he scolded his son was the _intent _- Theodore wished to make men jealous, of his position, and of his body. It wasn't malicious, but it was something Conrad would work out of his son, like a smith working out the kink of a nail. Humility, honour, grace, those were the path to righteousness in all things.

_And is it humility that spurs you to kill a mythic beast that men have never before slain? _Conrad thought, sitting on his bead, fur still damp. _A beast they say can think like a hunter and flay your mind like a butcher would a carcass? _He closed his eyes and saw great spines rising from the sea, lighting flash in the air, his wife falling down a gargantuan void that had suddenly opened up in the midst of the waves. Harpoons struck its fins and fell away, useless. No, there was nothing humble about Conrad's desire to slay a creature many savages worshiped as a god. This was the path of honour, of vengeance. He would beg forgiveness after the fact.

With an air of resignation, Conrad stood and began pulling on his uniform. He wore a crisp blue double-breasted coat, the buttons fine brass studs, decorative epaulettes adorning his shoulders. He secured a small flintlock pistol to one side of his hip, a keen sabre to the other. Atop his head he placed a worn leather bicorn, a badge of service pinned to one side.

He stepped onto the deck and was greeted by Willard yet again. The man was his second, and the two spent most of their days together.

"Captain, you're looking rather decent this morn." Willard said, grinning. The bear could get away with much others could not, simply because of his results. "Weather seems fair, the sails took a bit of tangling in the night, but once we work out the kinks I expect we'll make good time."

"Your estimate to the hunting grounds?" Conrad asked. They'd already been at sea for two months now, but his chest burned to return to that place, the place where she was stolen from him, all those years ago.

"No more than five days, Captain." Willard replied smartly. Not only did the bear get results, he knew when to toe the line. The beast was not something Conrad ever jested of, and the men followed suit.

"Then we can begin our journey home." Conrad sighed. "Finally."

"Aye. I know many of the men are starting to itch for some buxom young thing to bury themselves in, if you pardon my expression, sir." Willard glanced away, nervous he'd gone too far. Conrad was proper, but he wasn't stuck up.

"Pardoned of course, good man." Conrad said. "I too find myself... itching, for companionship." In his tight trousers, he felt his sheath twitch at the thought. Gods, he needed release. The ache through his crotch, writhing. Pawing off simply wasn't the same, he needed something warm, something that could cradle him back. Conrad knew some sailors practiced their own release with other men, at least when at sea. Hidden dalliances that all knew of, though few admitted. Men found the beds of their fellow sailors, if only for practicality. Conrad had never been one for that kind of thing - for not only was he the Captain, he found the idea... strange. He understood, but it frightened him nonetheless.

As a youth, he had once participated. Stuck out at sea on his third journey, into their fourth month and possibly lost, he'd given in. Late at night, he and another lad had pressed themselves together, breathing heavy, and... they hadn't gone further than rubbing.

_Perhaps I should be more open-minded. _Conrad thought, shaking his head. He would stomach it, paw off again tonight while staring out to sea. Even if he were to be free of qualms, the sheer fact of his rank made it impossible. Who could say no to a captain? It wasn't right.

"How are the men, speaking of?" Conrad asked, as the two began to ascend the short steps to the wheel. A third man, Rael, would take hold of that, but Willard and Conrad would spend most of the day somewhere nearby, giving instruction.

"Restless. I promised you wouldn't hear of it, but a fight broke out two nights back." Willard said ruefully. Ah, so _that _was how Merrick had gotten a fat lip. "They're afraid, I suspect. The beast we hunt is unlike any other, some say it's a god, some say it can reach into your mind and speak as a man might. I don't know what to think, and neither do they."

"It's not a god." Conrad said, teeth grinding. "It's a monster. An evil. A devil. And we shall be the slayers of it. How many fishing boats have been stolen by its maw, how many lives has that thing claimed of us?"

"Aye, Captain." Willard replied solemnly. They'd had this conversation before.

"I don't blame them for being afraid." Conrad added, more softly. "All who have tried to destroy it in the past have failed, we face an impossible task." The beast was thought to be the last of its kind, a leftover of the ancient megafauna of past ages. Some scholars had named it the Negawhale, one university called it the Blood Orca - for Conrad, it was always the beast. "Perhaps tonight we should allow a laxer paw on the rum rations, if only before we begin to enter dangerous waters."

"I think that's a stupendous idea!" Theodore cried out, clambering up the steps alongside Rael. The astute young otter took his place at the wheel, awaiting command. All along the large sails men swarmed like ants, wrapping rope and securing sails, preparing them to drop for departure. "More rum is _rarely _a poor choice."

"I've a cousin might disagree with you on that, son." Willard said, eyeing the young wolf. Thankfully, Theodore was now at least dressed, though his uniform coat hung open lazily. Perhaps it came from the desperation of sea, or perhaps from the slow-growing realisation his son was nearly a full man, Conrad found himself wondering at the lad's own privates. Conrad had dark, charcoal-brown fur, while Theodore was lighter in most places. Was the fur around his son's sheath the same? The fur of Conrad's was lighter than the rest of him, almost a fine grey. Was Theodore a similar _size _to him too? Did their knots differ in girth?

Conrad felt himself stiffen slightly inside his sheath, and cursed inwardly.

_Damn it man, that's your son. Are you that hungry after only a few months? _Hot shame flushed his cheeks, but mercifully his dark fur smothered it.

"And so," Willard was saying, through thick guffaws. "He found himself on the jetty stark naked, no clue how he came to be there, no idea how to get back to island!" He slapped Theodore on the back and the two broke down in thick belly laughs. Conrad frowned, how long had he zoned out?

The sea does queer things to the minds of men. _He thought, turning and staring aftward out to sea. _That fact is doubly potent, the closer we draw to the waters of the beast.

"Yes." He said firmly, snapping Willard and Theodore from their laughter. "We'll triple the rum rations tonight. Let the men drink away their problems for once, though the officers should know to keep a head."

Willard gave a stout nod. "It'll be done Captain, they'll appreciate it."

"Theodore." Conrad said next, his son cocking his head expectantly. The younger wolf was a talk-back and rapscallion, but he'd follow a command same as any decent sailor. Conrad wouldn't have brought him otherwise. "Today I want you to examine the harpooning gear, and the cannons."

Theodore frowned. "Expecting pirates, are we?"

"No, but the beast has flesh like iron." Conrad said. "When last we... struggled, I saw a dozen harpoons thrown against it. None even punctured the flesh. It's a creature of monstrous strength, we'll need to blow its armour plating off with the howitzers if we're to have a chance at piercing it with the spears."

"Don't you suspect that to be a little... over-zealous?" Theodore asked. "It's a beast, aye, but still a whale like any other."

"It is _nothing _like any other!" Conrad roared, closing the distance between him and his son. "Prepare the cannons. Ensure the powder is dry, set the roping. If we underestimate this creature, we will be annihilated by it. We are out to slaughter, not harvest. Understood?"

Theodore met his eyes. "Yes, sir."

Conrad put a firm paw on his son's shoulder, squeezing. "Good. Thank you." He nodded, and the younger wolf turned to attend the tasks. "Theodore?" He called, and the boy froze, glancing back. Gods, only seventeen years old, but already like a more handsome incarnation of Conrad himself. Like looking into the mirror of a fantasy. He only prayed the boy could learn to keep his head.

"Yes?"

"Try not to drink too much tonight. It sets a poor example." Theodore's tail fell slightly, but he nodded, knowing his father better than to press the issue. Finally, he scurried off, and Conrad sighed, sagging against the railing.

"Should we set out, sir?" Rael asked, in his heavily accented voice. Conrad nodded.

"Aye-aye, set off already." A cacophony of shouting followed, as the sails were unfurled and fell, quickly catching on the wind and propelling the Dream Eater.

Conrad found himself dazing, staring out to the sea and picturing great vast shadows beneath those depths. Sablehawks coasted on the wind alongside them, plucking the wriggling and eel-like trepildon fish from the wash and swallowing them in thick gulps. Sailors were superstitious to a fault, and Conrad smiled as he heard the men singing to the hawks, begging them of good fortune.

"Am I too hard on the boy?" He asked Willard, as the two watched Theodore strolling about deck with his best Conrad impersonation, calling out orders to the men, checking over the cannons.

"Young men need a firm paw to guide them." Willard replied. "We can only do our best, and I say you've done that and then some, Conrad." They spoke now as friends, and so the bear used his name freely. "I've raised four sons and two daughters, I was never harder on them than I was myself. I showed them that I would never ask of them something I refused to do myself, I let them see me as a man, flaws and all, and not some godlike figure."

Conrad sighed. "If the secret to successful parenting is to let them see your faults, I suppose I have excelled."

"Conrad." Willard said. "The boy is growing fine. He's a good lad, the men respect and like him, and none feel he holds his position unfairly." That pleased Conrad to hear; the respect of sailors was hard-won.

"I am... terrified, my friend." Conrad whispered, leaning over the rail and letting his eyes go northward, toward the hunting waters claimed by the beast. "I am terrified of losing my son, and of myself. If I have discovered something of men, it is that our lives are far from the only thing we can suffer the loss of. I'd not lose my mind and crew to this beast by folly, I'd not let myself be consumed by vengeance, and submit my son to my own madness. I am a man above all things, a father, I will _not _become a weapon of hatred."

"Poetic." Willard snorted, leaning next to him.

Conrad seized the bear's arm, squeezing suddenly. "Promise me. Willard, _swear _it to me, that if I seek to go too far, to drive us into that devil's belly with hearts alive, you'll stop me. Swear it. On all the gods of the sea."

The bear met Conrad's piercing yellow eyes. Sailors took those kinds of oaths very seriously. "If you'd ask it."

"Please." Conrad begged, teeth bared, hackles up. "I fear something is infecting my mind, a determination, a kind of insanity. I fear I shall soon no longer govern my soul; I feel immersed in darkness. If I should turn my body away from the sun, in pursuit of that thing, I must be stopped. Swear it, if I go too far... you'll stop me."

Willard nodded, mouth tight. "If it comes to that, my friend. I'll stop you."

~

When Conrad finally turned in for the night, he found himself having to step over several drunken sailors as he made for his quarters across the deck. They'd enjoyed the extra rum rations, though Willard, Theodore, and the officers had kept themselves relatively sober, as requested. Theodore had enjoyed a drink or two, but nothing that would seriously impair him.

The world seemed to end at the edge of the ship. Conrad paused on the deck, staring out the port-side, eyes finding the horizon even though it was lost in the darkness.

"I know you're out there." He whispered. Wind whipped at the fur on his head, and he reached a paw up to keep his bicorn steady. In the distance, close to the line where sea met air, a storm raged. Lightning flashed, white and purple light haunting in the distance. Conrad found himself praying it wouldn't head this direction, but he knew they'd weathered worse than a storm or two.

He retreated to his cabin, resting on the bed with a heady sigh. It had been a long, although monotonous, day. Save for a brief moment where a rope got away from young Jensen, ripping half the skin from his paw, nothing of note had really happened. Again Conrad wished he had a wife somewhere to write too, someone to miss.

There on the bed he tried to gather the strength required to prepare for sleep; turning down the oil lamp, undressing, but found he couldn't stir himself. He laid there, immobile, listening as rain began to assault the side of the Dream Eater. As always, he dwelled on the beast.

He would win. Damn it, he would.

He forced his thoughts away from the beast. If the men could have a night to relax, so could their captain. Thinking back to his frustrations earlier in the day, Conrad placed a paw just atop the mound of his crotch, slowly working his fingers back and forth across the top of the fabric. He felt himself swell quickly and let out a breath he'd been holding, his paw reaching up and undoing his first button. Outside, the rain only picked up in intensity, hammering the ship. His prayers the storm had gone another way were left unheard, it seemed. Hopefully the officers and men still sober would have the presence of mind required to strap the vitals down.

Conrad's fingers closed around his prick, and he let himself groan gently as he slid the fur down his length, exposing the hot redness of himself. He tried to picture the last woman he was with, some whore at the southern port of Edolia, and found little joy there. Instead, unbidden, his mind wandered to earlier in the day. Himself, standing naked on the deck, albeit draped in a cloak. His son stood before him, well-muscled, fur smooth, the bulge of his wolfhood subtle yet enticing in his undergarments. It was strange to think of his son like that, the seventeen-year-old hiding himself beneath only a thin layer of fabric. Conrad wondered what it would look like to see his son pleasure himself. The strangeness of the thought was encouraging, exciting in its forbidden nature. Conrad pinched his tip, thin drips of clear fluid wetting his pads, the mental image of Theodore splayed back fully exposed on the bed fresh in his mind.

What are you doing? _Conrad thought, realising his cock was out full and hard at the thought of... his _son? He shoved the firm length back into his trousers, doing his buttons and scrambling to his feet.

"I really am losing my mind." He said. Had he just really been thinking that? No, he decided, he hadn't. He'd been pawing off, then got distracted by the day's events. It was only natural, only normal. He shoved the thoughts away, and was about to commit to turning down his lamp, when a mighty crash threw him across the room.

With a cry Conrad slammed into the wall, sliding to the floor and blinking back white stains across his vision. He climbed slowly to his knees, looking around in a daze.

"What the hells?" He said, looking around. He started as he realised the intensity of the rain had increased tenfold in the last few minutes. He heard thunder explode outside, the ship heaving in the waves. Out on the deck, he could almost make out the sounds of screaming.

_No. _He thought, baring his teeth as another thick shake ripped through the hull. Damnation, it felt like an earthquake. _No, you can't be here! _But his thoughts were futile. Waves and wind didn't hit a ship like that, the impact was all wrong.

Conrad seized his nearby pistol, using a paw to keep himself steady as he stumbled out onto the deck. It was pitch black, men were everywhere, crying out random orders and questions, shakes and wind tearing free everything that wasn't tied down. Rain blanketed the air, almost too thick to breathe. Conrad cast about, saw Willard dragging a man back who was missing a leg. Near the port-side, Theodore stumbled about with paws cast wide, dressed again in only his undergarments. The rain was everywhere, waves crashed against the side and erupted like volcanoes, spraying thick wash and foam across everything and everyone. Conrad could barely see, barely think.

He turned about, and the lightning flashed. In the split second of blinding white illumination, Conrad saw a great silhouette looming in the darkness. It was as long... no, _longer, _than the Dream Eater, that massive pitch-black body towering over the deck itself. The great spines he knew so well stretched up past the ship's tallest mast, scraping the sky itself. Long limbs extruded from it like snakes, snapping and jerking through the air, ripping the sails to shreds. The beast was more massive than even he remembered.

He was frozen. He was going to die. As quickly as it came, the flash of light vanished, plunging them again into the cold darkness.

"I am not ready." He whispered, though the storm stole his words.

_I AM HERE TO DESTROY. _The thoughts came to his head, forced in like a knife through a heart. Conrad swallowed as a deep, bellowing tone burned the air. It sounded like the world's largest horn, and he felt his guts wobble within him. Men fell to their knees, screaming, covering their ears. Finally the call of the beast died out, and another quaking shiver of violence echoed through the deck.

"MEN! HARK!" Conrad screamed, so hard his lungs burned. Some of those closest to him turned, eyes wide, straining to hear. "Split your lungs with blood and thunder, now you've seen the great whale!" Some of the men stood, shaking, holding one another, shuffling closer to make his words out. Conrad continued to scream, his throat raw and bubbling from the effort of being heard. "Break your backs and crack your oars, men! If you wish us to prevail! Man the cannons, man the harpoons, and aim directly for his wicked heart, and drive death through his fucking eye!"

"To the cannons!" One man screamed.

"Cannons, cannons!" Another voice cried.

"Harpoons, to port! It's there! There!"

Conrad felt his stomach drop out as, only metres from him, a great black limb shot out from the darkness, wrapping a thick maw around a wolf's head and swallowing it whole. The man began flailing, but before any could react the great limb dragged him overboard.

"Damnation." Conrad gasped, tripping over and rolling across the deck as one side suddenly shot toward the heavens. He felt the breath crushed from him as he slammed into the mast, body folding around it like a clamp.

"Captain, damn, Conrad!" A voice was crying in his ears. Conrad accepted the paw offered and was pulled to his feet, Willard clapping him on the back.

"My son!?" Conrad cried. "Where's Theodore?" He scanned about the deck, searching for the image of a man barely dressed.

He couldn't find him.

"Where is MY SON! You bastard!" Conrad bellowed, howling at the place where he'd last seen the giant silhouette.

"Theodore is safe, I'm sure of it Captain!" Willard cried, another horn-like wail echoing around them. Conrad winced as several cannons exploded, the gunpowder flinging great balls of lead out at nothing at all. In the darkness they couldn't aim, could only fire blindly.

We'd have barely stopped that thing in a fair fight. It stalked us, waited for the right moment. We haven't got a chance.

"Father!" Conrad whirled, seizing his son by the arms and pulling him into an embrace.

"Thank the gods." He whispered, and Theodore pulled free. The boy was wet through, his fur and underclothes stuck flush to his body.

"Father, we need to turn away! We must flee, to the boats!" Theodore pointed to the boats swaying in the gale, rocking.

"No, no." Conrad hissed back, something wooden exploding on the far side of the deck. "We have to stand and fight, it's the only way! If we get on those boats, we'll die!"

"Father!"

"Theodore!" Conrad growled, baring his teeth. "Listen to me, trust in my..." He paused as the lightning flashed again, illuminating the world.

Something was wrong.

From the edges of the ship, black waves heaved, massive jagged mountains like volcanic glass, rising and falling with the whims of the storm. Clouds swirled in the sky, and from the deck it seemed as if the Dream Eater were situated at the lowest point in a deep valley, the gargantuan walls of water enclosing all around them.

With a start, Conrad realised what was wrong: the beast, was missing.

He pointed at the deck. "Get down, it's below--" He was cut off sharply as something pushed from beneath the stern of the ship, hard. The deck became a vertical slope, Willard falling away with a cry. Conrad grabbed hold of an iron rung and held, his legs kicking wildly against the decking. To his side Theodore was stuck in similar place, arms wrapped around the mast, mouth stretched open in a silent scream for help.

"Hold! On!" Conrad cried, though his words were lost.

A wave hit them from the side, and for a moment they were underwater. When it receded, Conrad's eyes went wide to see his son swept up in the wash, his limp body dragged right to the rail, and then clear overboard.

"THEODORE!" Conrad wailed. The dread he felt only tripled as he saw the silhouette of the beast front-on in a new, more horrifying flash of lightning. The ancient evil reared its ugly head, eyes taller than most men red and flared. There was a great sucking sound as seawater began to flood into its mouth, washing through a kind of brush-like mesh. The black skin of the beast was slick in the light of the storm, shining and reflecting the destruction wrought upon them. Tendrils thicker than any redwood jutted periodically from its body, either reaching out to grab men like earlier, or simply hanging limp into the water.

With nothing but misery, Conrad saw Theodore's lean body swirling in the maelstrom, his limbs thrashing.

He's terrified of deep water, and I have condemned him to a death at sea.

Conrad didn't stop, didn't think. He let go of his iron rung and took hold of a nearby rope, tugging himself across the deck, which was now sloped somewhere closer to ten degrees off. He hit the port-side rail with a grunt, air sucking through his teeth.

"You can't have him!" He screamed at the beast. "You cannot! Have! My! SON!" And without another thought in his head, Conrad threw himself overboard, into the water, into the nightmarishly powerful vortex, sucking him down, the light closing overhead as he hit the whale's tongue, falling along the warm bumpy ridges and into its esophagus, water rushing down around him.

_YOU ARE MINE. _Those thoughts, the voice, forced upon him.

Thick walls of meat closed around Conrad's arms and shoulders, trapping him, and he felt himself crushed by the creature, lungs filling with water as muscles larger than his body worked to squeeze him down, deeper, into the belly of the vile beast. He tried to claw his way free, wiggling his limbs and finding no purchase. He slipped and was sucked down deeper, the pulsating muscles against him pushing and twisting him, crushing his body.

"No!" He croaked, fingers slipping wetly against the creature's tongue.

The last of the outside air was gone, and with a sudden jerking sensation, Conrad was swallowed.

~

When he came to, Conrad felt wet, and warm. His body throbbed, and he cracked his eyes with a slow groan. Wherever he was, it was dark. His clothes were soaked, and he lay face down on something squishy. He pushed himself up by his elbows, a slightly sticky sensation peeling from his fur as he looked around.

Blinking, Conrad realised the cavern wasn't quite as dark as he'd first thought. It was dim, but there was an atmosphere not unlike distant candlelight, though he saw no obvious source.

_What in damnation is going on? _He wondered, glancing about. A few feet away, he saw Theodore. The young brown wolf was resting in a sitting position, his shirtless back to some pale-red wall. Purplish-red vines covered the wall like creepers, only they seemed to be made of glistening meat. Theodore wore only his undergarments, a pair of loose white cotton shorts that clung wetly to his body, though Conrad paid it no heed. He crawled to his son, panic striking as Theodore's head lolled, drool dripping from his lip.

"Theo." Conrad whispered, one paw seizing the boy by his shoulder, the other at his thigh. "Theodore, can you hear me boy?"

"Mmmmmmrfgk." Theo mumbled, his words slurred. Conrad slackened as he saw his boy look up, blinking away the haze of unconsciousness. He opened his lips, licking them and glancing around. "Father? Where are we?"

"I...." Conrad paused. He had deliberately not thought of it. Now he was forced to, and with a grimace, he turned back to face it. They were in a large cave, every surface covered in a slick, faintly shimmering fluid. The meat-like vines Conrad had seen behind his son's head ran across everything, some ending with tapered tips, some seeming to stretch on and around forever. There was a humid air to the place, a slight current, a distant sense of beating. With a drop of his stomach, Conrad realised where they were. "We're inside the beast." He said softly.

"Huh." Theodore said groggily, looking around. He reached a paw up and rubbed across his head, smoothing his ears. "I imagined the belly of a hell-beast to be... wetter. This is almost comfortable."

Conrad gave the boy a sharp look, then sighed. "I don't know what to do now."

Wait to die. _He thought. _By slow digestion.

"So it got you too, then?" Theo asked, shifting in place. Something seemed to be troubling him, but Conrad imagined the boy was covered in bruises and scrapes.

"Not... quite." Conrad said. "After I saw it had stolen you I... gave chase." He looked back to Theodore. "I've lost enough family members to this cursed thing."

"You let yourself get swallowed by the negawhale for my sake?" Theo asked. He blushed, looking away.

"Are you hurt?" Conrad asked. He himself felt quite tender.

"N-no." Theo said, shaking his head. He was squirming slightly in place, moving his paws around near his hips. Conrad cocked his head, trying to get a look, to see if there was a wound. Theodore was bright red, and his son wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Conrad asked. "Is there--" He looked down, and saw Theo's undergarments tented sharply. The boy moved to cover his erection, shoving it down beneath his fingers.

"Er, I... father, I can't..." He swallowed. "That is to say, I don't know... why."

"It's, uh." Conrad didn't know what to say. Here he was comforting his son in the belly of a giant monster, and the lad's cock was standing stiff as a mast. He felt a rise touch his own cheeks, as he recalled what he'd thought of earlier that night. Seemed a lifetime ago. "It's nothing. The body does... odd things, in times of stress, I suppose."

"Yes, yes of course." Theodore replied, again moving his paws across himself.

_It did look nice though. _Conrad thought, his muzzle feeling suddenly dry. _So tall, and strong, like his father. _He felt his own manhood stiffen, and quickly banished the thoughts, standing. He turned away from his son, looking around the 'cavern'.

"Perhaps we might still find a way out." Conrad said, looking around.

"Uh, perhaps." Theo added.

Something flickered in Conrad's peripheral vision and he started. Had one of the meat-vines moved? They must be veins or some such, some kind of infernal biology. He studied them carefully, watching for movement, and found nothing. The beast had tendrils near it's maw, he knew that much. Where these what fuelled them?

"Do you feel strange?" Theodore asked. "I think I might have hit my head."

Conrad turned back. "I'm fine." He lied. He felt rather groggy, dreamlike, almost as if he were floating. There was a warmth in the pit of his stomach, a spreading kind of tension that wormed downward through his body. He bit his tongue and pushed the relaxing sensation away. Must be shock, he had to stay alert.

On the ground, his son had let his paws fall to the side, despondent. His cock still stood hard, the wet underwear leaving little to the imagination. Conrad stared, transfixed. His son's wolfhood was right there, hard and waiting. It seemed almost unbelievable.

"Has it ever happened to you?" Theo asked. "In times of... stress?"

"Has what?" Conrad asked.

His son gestured to his undergarments, his paw gently touching the top of the mound and squeezing. "This. Have you ever..." And Conrad nearly screamed as Theo began to rub himself. The movement was slightly, but he was definitely playing with it. His son's lips parted slightly and he let out a pent up breath.

Conrad cleared his throat. Damn it. He was hard now himself, must be all this excitement.

"No. It hasn't." He said. After a moment, he frowned. "Theo, your shoulder... one of the... the veins." He pointed, and Theo looked lazily across himself. As Conrad had said, one of the meat vines had fallen from the wall, and now draped over his son's shoulder. It was purplish and thick, and now he was closer, Conrad could see the tapered tip had a kind of slit in the top of it. The same slick liquid that covered everything else ran across it, bending the dim light.

"It's not hurting anything." Theo said, shrugging. His eyes went to Conrad's crotch. "Father are you.... right now?"

Conrad's length ached inside his trousers, and he resisted the urge to adjust himself. "It matters not." His balls felt tight, his sheath retracing back as his length rubbed up against his own undergarments. The thought of his son, still sitting there and slowly massaging his own cock through the fabric, wasn't helping.

"May I see?"

Conrad did a double take. What? Had he just heard that right?

"No." He snapped. Were more of the vines covering Theo now? Or was it his imagination? "No, of course not. What's gotten into you?" The vines almost looked as if they were breathing, pulsing very slightly. Conrad blinked, sure the dim light was playing tricks on him.

"I think it's this place." Theo replied. He put his hand to one of the tendrils sliding over his belly. When he lifted his fingers, they came back slick and shining with the fluid. "This... ah, fluid. It does something, like venom." After a brief pause of study, Theo put two fingers to his tongue and licked.

"Theodore!" Conrad exclaimed, taking a step back. His son shivered, reaching down and squeezing his cock in earnest.

"Father, try it." He said, rubbing at his tented cock. "It feels... it's something else. We're stuck here, might as well."

Conrad could feel the urge to give in. He wanted to go to his knees and slide his son's undergarments down, to run his paws over that huge member, feeling the warmth, inhaling the scent of his boy. It would be forbidden, to even think it was almost a crime. Why, Theodore was barely a man, no matter how large is prick might be. But still, it _was _an enticing thought.

That is your son, damn it. Have you gone mad?

"No, I can't." Conrad said, already finding himself on his knees before Theo. He crawled forward, the vines... no, the tentacles of the creature swarming around the young wolf's firm body. They held tight, and Conrad could feel more of them, like snakes, curling tight around his calves. "I...."

He reached out with shaking fingers and took the waistband of his son's white shorts. Could he really do this? He couldn't believe it, couldn't imagine himself willing to commit this kind of transgression. And yet... licking his lips, Conrad tugged the waistband down to the boy's thighs, exposing his prick. It was red and tall, thicker than Conrad himself but not quite as long. The fur around Theodore's sheath was a lighter brown, the balls pulled up tight against the crotch. Conrad inhaled through his nose, relishing the musky scent of teenaged arousal. His stomach quivered, and he swallowed audibly.

"Ah, oh, father." Theo whispered, angling his hips forward slightly. The tendrils across his naked, muscled stomach began to crawl forward, tightening around his midsection. Conrad put his paw on his son's cock, a shock of electricity firing through him. His fingers wrapped around Theodore, his thumb playing with the lad's slit at the tip. He still couldn't believe this was real. The younger wolf gasped. "That feels good."

Some of the vines were curling around Theodore's hips now, sliding down the grooves in his groin, constricting over the shorter fur between his legs.

"Show me yours, please." Theo said. Conrad reached down to undo his belt, then stopped.

What am I doing? _He thought. _This is my son, my boy, I can't do this, it's wrong.

"No..." He said, uncertainly. He shuffled back slightly, feeling resistance from the tendrils slowly taking hold of him. "No, I won't."

YOU WILL. The thought was pushed into his head, and all around him, Conrad felt the tendrils tighten suddenly. He hissed, and saw with a start that Theo's legs were splayed, one of the thick purple limbs pushed up between his arse cheeks. Theodore moaned, his hips writhing.

Conrad tried to move, to go forward, to shake his son out of it, but found he couldn't move. He cried out as the tentacles lifted him into the air, one large tip caressing firmly over his bulging crotch.

"Just enjoy it." Theodore moaned, stroking his cock, toes curling as the tentacle pushed in and out of him.

"No, no, I won't." Conrad said, even as several tendrils slipped beneath his shirt. They were warm and wet on his body, tight, constricting him in place. He tried to fight and found them impossibly strong, his entire self frozen wholly in place. "Let me go!"

With a tear, the shirt and coat were ripped free in an instant. Tentacles were everywhere, caressing every inch of him, suspending him in the air, doing the same a few feet away to Theodore. The boy no longer had his own paw on his cock, and instead one of the large tentacles had slipped right over it, a greedy sucking motion working along it's length.

"Ahh, yes.... father.... give in..." Theo groaned, writhing with what little freedom the tentacles allowed.

"Theodore!" Conrad cried, tendrils tugging off his boots, slithering up his pant leg. "No, no!" He snarled, shaking and fighting to no avail. He felt a long thin tentacle slip beneath his own undergarments, the wet slickness of it riding up against his cock. He groaned involuntarily, unable to stop himself as the tendril wrapped around his base, squeezing him.

Then his trousers were torn free.

Suddenly Conrad was hanging in the air, completely naked. The air felt much nicer without clothes, and he felt himself relax slightly into the impossibly strong cloud of limbs. He was held in a position not unlike the one a person might adopt in a recliner. His throbbing red cock poked free of his sheath, the tendrils wet slime coating it like a fine lubricant. His breathing was fast and hard, and he groaned as two of the tendrils ran under his taint, holding him securely, tickling his body pleasantly. One was tight around his neck, but Conrad hadn't panicked. Instead he felt himself giving in, lust swirling up through his chest like a tempest, eyes unable to look away from Theodore and his own wolfhood.

Precum was leaking down his son's cock, which the tendril from earlier had now abandoned. Two different tentacles now worked at his tailhole, alternating their pushes and pulls. Theodore moaned and gasped, his body splayed, thick red and purple vines wrapped tightly around every extremity.

Conrad started again as the tentacles began to bring them closer together. He watched, cock throbbing with pleasure as Theodore was raised up and he was lowered.

_No.... no.... _The thoughts were distant and weak, his son's cock hovering now only inches from his maw.

"Do you want me?" Theo groaned. He was utterly lost in the bliss of the tentacles.

"Yes." Conrad heard himself saying. Gods, he wanted it bad. He stopped kidding himself, he'd cum many a time to imagining his son. He watched his son bathe sometimes, imaging the two of them there together, perhaps sharing a laugh that became more. Theodore was a handsome, strong wolf, and Conrad's eyes lit up at the beginning bulge of his knot.

The tentacles edged Theo closer, thick drops of precum sliding from his tip. Conrad opened his muzzle hungrily, tongue extended. Theodore was right. Something about this place, about the slime covering everything, it had warped his mind, unlocked hidden parts of himself. He wanted his son in his muzzle, now.

With a final push, Theodore's length slid into his mouth. He wrapped his lips around it, unable to use his restricted paws, the rest of his held tight in the giant fleshy vice. They pulled and tugged on him, and he felt two of the warm slimy ends teasing near his own hole, cupping his buttocks, squeezing tight on his thighs.

Conrad didn't care. He sucked at his son's cock, tongue wrapping around it, his own prick dancing and jumping in time to every one of Theo's moans. It tasted salty, of thick sweat, smelling of musk. His tongue traced around the gentle ridges of it, curling over the head, teasing along the underside. Conrad went deeper, craning his neck, struggling to get as much of the dick as he possibly could. He wanted it, he wanted his son.

With a start, he felt press against his tailhole. The very tip of one of the tentacles, probing, pushing him only slightly open. Conrad tried to move away, and found he couldn't. The only thing he could move were his fingers and his head. He felt Theo's paws rub absently across the top of his head.

"Daddy." He gasped. Theo hadn't called him that for ten years. Conrad didn't let up, licking at his son, sucking, every moan and squirm drawing more pleasure.

The tentacle at his rear pressed deeper. Conrad locked up as he felt himself split wider, the alien slime acting as a perfect lubricant. He couldn't help the agonising groan that came from his throat, the painful, yet pleasurable sensation of being filled only doubling as a second tentacle joined the fray.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Theodore asked. He'd been pulled back now, and Conrad licked at his lips, tasting his son there.

Conrad gave into the waves of pleasure, three different tentacles squirming inside him, wriggling like snakes into his hole. The tendrils pushed and pulled, even as others worked and swirled around him, pushing out on his walls and plunging deeper inside. His tail was tugged aside, the tentacles doing as they wished, pulling him this way and that, sliding over his frame. He gasped as one of them slipped over his cock, as it had done earlier to Theo. He felt his hips pushing into it, wanting to go deeper, the pulsating muscles inside the alien orifice working perfectly on his glands. Two tendrils ran up the side of his neck, and with a quick motion one dove inside his maw, filling his mouth and pressing deep into his throat. It filled the tight opening, and for a moment Conrad couldn't breathe. Then the tendril stuck itself in deeper, and suddenly he found air reaching his lungs. He let himself float there, suspended by tendrils belly-down several metres in the air, three wet tentacles pulsing inside his hole, one thick limb down his throat, countless more squeezing him like a sponge.

Theodore was beneath him. His son was face-up, barely any of his light brown fur exposed for the tentacles wrapped tight around him. His cock was dribbling pre, another thick limb down his throat just like Conrad. The tentacle around Conrad's dick slipped off and he whined, something to push into.

Give him to me. _Conrad thought, watching as Theo's legs were pulled apart, his hips angled slightly upward. _No, wait, stop. I don't want this. I can't. _He saw his son's hole, slick with the tentacle slime, currently vacant. An urge to fill it with cum flooded through Conrad, but he fought it. This was his _son, was he really going to willingly fuck his boy?

YES. The voice said.

Conrad swallowed. The three tentacles were still inside him and they flared, little gasps and moans escaping Conrad's throat, distorted around the limb still rammed down his gullet. He watched the pulsating tentacle in Theo's maw, large lumps of something slowly pumped into his boy.

Theodore's hole was close to him now, his arse cheeks pried open for Conrad, the tentacles at his ankles spreading him wide.

Oh, no. _Conrad thought. At the same time: _please, yes.

A howl of pleasure erupted from Conrad as the tip of his cock pressed inside his son. Theodore immediately squeezed around his head, but the tentacles pushed Conrad ever deeper. Conrad urged them on, grunting and huffing around the limb in his throat, trying to work his hips into the tight warmth, the agony of a denied thrust almost painful. Beneath him, Theodore made similar sounds, muffled cries of bliss coming from his occupied muzzle. His son was pushed closer, and Conrad felt half his cock slide in with one push. His son's insides were so tight, warm, wet. He could feel the vibrations of Theo's moans from inside, his hole convulsing against his father's length.

Theodore's cock was left untouched by the tentacles, and it throbbed, thick bobs accompanied with little bits of glistening precum dropping out the tip.

"Father!" Theodore gasped, and Conrad realised the tentacle down his son's throat was gone. "Oh, fuck, Dad!" He cried, as the tentacles rocked back and forth on him, squeezing his lithe body, slithering over him.

Conrad wanted to breed his son, wanted to fill him with cum and lock it deep inside. He gasped as suddenly the tendril down his own throat vanished, filling his mouth with crisp air.

"Theo!" He moaned, as their fronts pushed closer together. They were being crushed, both by each other's bodies, and by the tentacles surrounding them. Some of the limbs clung only to Theo or Conrad's limbs, some wrapped around them both, snaking between joints and holes. "Oh, gods, Theodore!" Conrad gasped and groaned as his cock slid in and out with thick slaps, pausing just outside, before plunging in deep again, hilting with a throaty grunt into his son. He could feel his knot beginning to swell, pushing on the younger wolf's insides.

"I want your cock, Daddy."

"Yes, ah, yes, Theo."

"Please!"

"Yes!" Conrad growled. The tentacles pushed them even closer, crushing the thick tendrils between them with a squelch. Their lips met and they kissed, even as Conrad felt his knot expanding inside his boy. He was going to breed this boy, to fill him with cum.

"Dad, I'm gonna...." Theodore gasped, shudders and shakes overtaking him. "I'm... I'm...." Conrad grunted as the three tentacles pushed even deeper into his own hole, forcing him yet deeper into his son, his hip bones grinding against his son's arse cheeks. He looked down, and as the tendrils parted he saw a very slight rounded bump in his boy's slender stomach, the tip of his cock bulging from the inside.

A second later, Theodore came. It erupted, far more than Conrad would have even thought possible. It sprayed up, painting them both from chin to cock. Some landed on Theodore's neck, and Conrad found himself licking it off, tasting the odd saltiness. It was too much; it was all far too much. Conrad howled, the tentacles around him squeezing harder than ever before as his knot expanded to it's full capacity, sealing him in Theodore's hole. In his own rear, he felt the thickest of the three tendrils expel something, the tentacle itself filing him up with hot liquid. As that happened, Conrad's cock exploded. It felt like a floodgate being unleashed, a wall of agonising pleasure racing from the base of his thick balls, shooting along his length and finally firing out his tip. He felt the pressure inside his son tighten, the younger wolf's belly swelling slightly more, the cum locked in tight by his knot.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Theodore cried, shuddering as he came yet again, the orgasm forcing a surprising amount of cum from his dick. The maws of father and son met again in a tight kiss, both drenched in cum and tentacle slime, both filled tight.

"I've wanted you for so long, boy." Conrad said, between gasps. Now he'd cum, he felt his strength waning rapidly. "I've long dreamed of breeding you like that."

"I always wanted to try father. To... see..." Theodore said, eyelids drooping.

"Yes." Conrad gasped, his own vision blurring. He felt the tentacles around him slacken.

I MEAN YOU NO HARM. _That booming voice from earlier said. _GO IN PEACE.

With a start, Conrad collapsed into black.

~

He woke naked on a shore, Willard looming over him, sunlight framing the bear's edges. "Ugh, what?" Conrad asked, mouth tasting like acid, his whole body aching.

"Captain!" Willard said. His words sounded muffled. "We were passing by, and saw you and Theodore here ashore. Are you... alright?"

"I.... don't know." Conrad replied, sitting up, the world spinning around him. As he did, a ginger lance of pain shot through his rear. What happened? Why couldn't he remember? "Where's Theodore?"

"The boy is safe." Willard said, pointing. Conrad followed his finger, and saw Theodore held between two large men. He too was naked, and Conrad felt a touch of shame as some of the memories came flooding back. "We all saw you two swallowed by the beast, thought you were done for, going down like that. After you were gone though Captain, the bugger just up and left, like he were only there for you. We gave you up for dead, sorry to say."

"It's alright." Conrad found himself saying, allowing the bear to help him to his feet. Oddly, he didn't feel that ashamed at his nudity. He remembered only some of what happened inside the beast, but that too drew less embarrassment than he'd anticipated. In fact, Conrad found he regretted... nothing.

"We're nearly thirty leagues from where we were attacked, how in the Gods' name have you two made it out here?" Willard asked, dusting sand from his back.

"I... don't know." Conrad said. "It's all a blur. How is the ship?"

"Better shape than you'd expect, after an attack like that bastard gave us. A few weeks, some trade, we'll have her good as new, ready for round two."

"No." Conrad was surprised to find his voice firm, anger rising in his chest. "No. We will not be hunting the beast any longer. This chapter of my life is over. Let it be."

Willard paused. "But sir... your wife."

"Yes." Conrad hesitated. _I MEAN YOU NO HARM. GO IN PEACE. _That was what the beast said to him, at the end. It was only defending itself, the last of its kind. Why had it done what it did? "I suspect we shall never know the truth of her final hours. But killing that creature will not bring her back."

"I still don't believe it." Willard muttered, turning to face the ocean. "Me and half a dozen boys saw it, you and your lad swallowed whole with hearts alive. Thought for sure we'd never see yous again." He paused. "What was it like, the belly of that infernal beast?"

"It was...." Conrad caught the eye of his son, and found the younger wolf smiling as he was helped onto a tiny rowboat. "Odd. It's changed things."

"Of course." Willard said. "Hopefully, we never see the likes of it again."

Ah. _Conrad thought, allowing himself to be led to the rowboat. _I'm not sure I feel quite the same.