FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sun was sinking below the horizon when Jake and Matt breathlessly crested the rocky hill and caught their first glimpse across the forested valley since they began their hike some six hours ago.

“We're not lost," Matt insisted, resting his hands on his knees. It wasn't the first time he'd said it that day, but each time, his voice had lost a bit of its confidence.

“Are you still trying to convince me," Jake replied, “or is it yourself, now?"

Matt waved a hand behind him dismissively. “I'm tellin' you, we came from that direction." He pointed vaguely ahead, at a patch of trees Jake definitely didn't recognize.

“Well, it's pointless going much further," he sighed. “We'll find someplace to camp for the night and carry on in the morning."

“Camp? Are you crazy?" Matt shot him a challenging look. It would be intimidating to anyone else, a look like that from a sturdy, heavy-set guy like him. But Jake had known him since highschool. And sure, he was once the school's star Defensive Tackle. Running into him was like slamming into a brick wall, and Jake would know, having been the team's Center. The two used to practice blocking and tackling to hone their skills between games, and became known for their excellent teamwork and comradery.

Comradery which, over time, had developed beyond mere friendship.

But they'd let themselves go a bit since those days. They weren't teenagers anymore; no longer lean and muscle-bound, they were more flab than fibre nowadays. Neither had pursued a career in the sport after college, both having settled into the far more mundane life of office jobs, mortgages, and far too little exercise.

It was the reason they were out here, in the wilderness. Gravel in their boots and heavy packs slung over their shoulders. They had already spent one night camping under the endless stars, bickering and joking, munching on smores and enjoying the temporary freedom of being surrounded by nature rather than concrete and traffic and people.

They were supposed to be headed home now. Except that, at some point, Matt had put down their only map and left it behind, leaving them reliant on their poor orienteering skills to lead them back to civilization.

It wasn't going well.

They headed back down the hill carefully, boots scuffing over loose rocks and crumbling clay. Back into the forest, where the darkness had already begun rolling in like a fog to blanket the earth. They had to find somewhere to camp, and quickly, before visibility dropped to zero, but the further they went, the denser the trees seemed to get.

That's when Jake spotted it. Off in the distance, slender beams of silvery light pierced between the trees, as if the moon itself had come down from the sky to nest among the trees.

“Do you see that?" he asked, his voice hushed. He wasn't sure why he was whispering, but the hairs on his arms were prickling. Something about it felt wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on why.

Matt didn't answer, but started heading towards it. Jake grabbed his arm. “The hell? You're just gonna go over there?"

“Why not? There's probably a cabin or something. There's obviously electricity if they've got a lamp like that."

It didn't look like a lamp to Jake. Nor a torch or campfire, or anything else he recognized. But Matt seemed unconcerned, picking up his pace in his eagerness to reach shelter.

As they reached the clearing, it became startlingly obvious this was no lamp. There was no cabin, either, though there was a dirt path nearby, as well as some basic camping amenities. Signs of civilisation: a welcome sight after hours of nothing but dirt, rocks, and leaves.

There were two park benches at the edge of the clearing, and an old, burnt-out fire pit in the center. But what dominated the space now was the strangest object either of them had ever seen: An eight foot tall totem pole, rising sturdily from the dirt. It looked to be finely carved from ancient-looking wood, and sitting in the clutches of two angular animal paws near the head of the monolithic structure was a glowing, spherical glass orb.

“Don't see that every day," Jake murmured. “What the hell is it?"

“No idea. But that bauble looks expensive." Matt kicked the base of the pole with his boot, testing its rigidity. Then before Jake could warn him against it, he started climbing the pole, using the angles of the carved animal faces on its surface as footholds.

“Careful, you idiot!"

“I'm fine," Matt growled as he reached up toward the statue's arms. He was poised awkwardly, his gut squashed indecently against one of the bear-like faces on the totem pole. “I'm not so out of shape that I can't climb—shit."

Clumsy fingers fumbled the luminous orb, sending it toppling from its perch. Jake watched in alarm as long shadows took flight like a flock of startled birds, before the orb smashed against a rock with a burst of brilliant light. He shielded his eyes with a gasp, instinctively cowering from the shards of crystal as they flew past him. At the same time, he heard a heavy thud followed by a gruff: “Oof!"

It took a few seconds for Jake's eyes to adjust to the sudden gloom. Looking back, he saw the remnants of the orb, scattering outward from the rock like an exploded firework. Matt was on the ground next to the pole, rolling himself over in an awkward attempt to climb back onto his feet.

“You okay?" Jake helped him up, his gaze sweeping over his friend in concern. “Didn't hit your head or anything, did you?"

“I landed on my ass," he complained. “But I'm fine. So much for the… whatever that thing was."

As they stared at the mess, the forest around them seemed to shiver, as if something terrible and momentous had occurred at the breaking of the orb. It could have been his imagination, but Jake was spooked enough to want to seek shelter, and quickly.

“We'll camp here," he muttered, throwing off his pack and setting to work pitching his tent. Matt stood stubbornly, an argument pursed on his lips and one hand rubbing his sore behind, but one glance at the sky put any thoughts of trudging on through the dark to rest.

---

The wind howled through the clearing, rippling over the canvas surface of their tents as they huddled in padded sleeping bags. Neither were so much sleeping, as simply waiting for dawn and daylight to come with it.

Jake shivered against the cold, his sleep disturbed by icy fingers of air against his face and the haunting calls of wild owls and distant wolves. The forest seemed restless, and eager to impart that restlessness on him.

But Matt wasn't cold. He thought he probably should be, but ever since he had crawled into his tent, a strange warmth had been gathering in his core. Hypothermia was his first thought, but no, this was something… different. His extremities were warm, too, as if he'd been sharing the tiny shelter with a space heater thrown on maximum setting. Soon it became stifling, and after an hour of tossing and turning, he decided he needed some fresh air. With a tired groan, he unzipped the tent's flap and stepped out into the biting cold.

Jake was there. Apparently he couldn't sleep either, but it was clear by the shaky way his hands moved while trying to spark the fire pit to life that his reason was the opposite of Matt's. His breath misted in the air with a triumphant exhale when finally he teased the first crackle of orange flame from the gathered sticks.

“Guess neither of us are sleepin' tonight," Matt grumbled, easing his weight down onto one of the nearby park benches.

Jake gave him a perplexed look. “You're a bit far. Sure you wouldn't be warmer sitting down here?"

“I'm not cold," came his stroppy reply. “I'm tired and worn out. This was a dumb idea from the beginning."

“It was your idea from the beginning," Jake pointed out. “I thought you were enjoying it?"

“I was, until now."

Jake opened his mouth to argue further, but a deep growl from the trees silenced them both.

They stood, staring out into the dark with frightened eyes. Matt wisely came to stand next to his friend—strength in numbers, he figured, though neither of them were particularly good fighters when it came down to it. “What was that?" he whispered.

As if on cue, an enormous brown bear emerged from behind a broken tree stump. Huge paws crunched over twigs, its nose twitching, tasting their scent in the air. It fixes its eyes hungrily on the pair.

“Shit," Jake hissed, bending to pick up a stick from the fire. “What do we do? Play dead?"

“Ain't that for black bears?" Matt replied. “Always knew I should've paid more attention in Scouts."

Jake's stick was little more than a burnt twig in his hand, but he waved its smouldering remains in the air threateningly and jumped from foot to foot. “Yaah! Get away! Git!"

The bear paused, but didn't retreat. Then a rustle came from behind them, and another bear of similar color and size meandered out into the clearing.

Jake's stick-arm wavered. “This is bad."

“Maybe we should make a run for it?" Matt offered. But no sooner had the words left his mouth than a third bear appeared, cutting off their only escape route. It was almost as if the creatures knew where to stand to keep the two humans helplessly trapped, but that couldn't possibly be true. Bears weren't smart; they were wild, feral things, acting on instinct.

But as he stared into their eyes, Matt could swear he saw some kind of intelligence staring back at him—an intelligence that he knew, intrinsically and without thinking, was not their own.

Another, far louder roar ricocheted through the trees like a clap of thunder, and the bears snarled in unison, taking a menacing step closer. Jake and Matt huddled back-to-back, but they had no way out and no weapons to defend themselves.

Then it appeared: A fourth, enormous bear, bigger than any of the others and distinctly different in both shape and behaviour. It approached with knowing purpose, its fur taking on strange hues of white and purple in panda-like patches in the dim firelit. Its ears were far longer, more pointed than its pure-bear cousins, pinned back in a display of aggression, and behind its rump swung the full, bushy tail of a wolf.

Matt clutched his head, a voice suddenly piercing his mind despite no sound reaching his ears:

You, Defiler, who has intruded into my territory. You, who has desecrated my symbol...

“Wh-What? Who is saying that?!" he cried.

Jake glanced aside at him, alarmed at his outburst. “You okay, buddy?"

You, who has awakened me from long hibernation...

“It's… It's talking to me," Matt managed, his voice feeling thick and heavy in his throat, like syrup.

You... must be punished.

In a flash of shaggy fur and sharp claws, the three lesser bears suddenly charged forward, scattering the pair in blind panic. They targeted Jake, knocking him to the ground and pinning him there, snarling and snapping, paws raking at his clothes. Matt, who ran in the opposite direction, skidded to halt at the sight of his friend in danger.

He couldn't just leave him there. His eyes scanned the ground for a rock, or something, anything to throw at them, but his efforts were interrupted when the larger bear—Draven, he knew, though he had no idea how—rose up behind him and shoved him down, pinning him to the dirt with its enormous bulk. Matt scratched desperately at the creature's face, but it was too quick, too strong, and all he could do was kick and struggle on the ground like the prey-thing he was as Draven bit and clawed through his clothes.

“Jake!" he yelled, but his friend either couldn't hear him, or couldn't respond. Matt had lost sight of him, the huge bear-wolf hybrid filling his vision with the scratch of matted fur and gleaming fangs.

Several feet away, Jake was being similarly held, accosted by three sets of wide, razor-sharp claws. He managed to rise on all fours, but they tore at his clothes even as he tried to scrabble away, ripping his shirt and shredding the denim from his legs. Somehow, he remained miraculously uninjured. He might have thought himself lucky, but as they stripped him bare from the waist down, even prying the boots from his blistered feet, he realised with rapidly growing horror that they were doing it on purpose.

His mind spun with frenzied questions, but he had little time to figure out their intentions before one of the bears climbed over him and clamped its jaws around the back of his neck. Jake froze. Its breath stank of rotted meat and dank earth. Its teeth didn't cut him, but their serrated edges pinched at his skin, delivered a warning even he could understand: Stay still. And so he did. One wrong move and the beast could easily crunch through his spine. Why didn't it, though? Why did it hesitate?

A moment later, Jake's confusion was answered in a bolt of agony as he felt something hot and fleshy shove itself between his exposed buttocks, punching its way inside his puckered hole and sinking deep inside his anus. The stretch made his eyes roll back in his head and his chest rattle with a cry of pain and fear.

Matt heard his friend's shout, but he could do nothing to help. Draven had reduced his clothes to rags and was now picking him up like a doll in its arms, only to throw him roughly onto one of the picnic tables. It climbed over him, snarling and snorting, and wedged its hind legs between Matt's feet, forcing them apart.

Matt had never felt so vulnerable, so overpowered by another being. The fear in his chest turned to ice when, on glancing down the massive bulk of the beast, he spotted the thing's heavy sheath begin to push out the bulging pink head of its cock. His eyes widened as it grew, fattening even as he watched, until it was an enormous thing the size of his arm or more, glistening faintly and pulsing with two thick veins bracketing its length from root to tip.

But it was only at its full length when from its base popped twin orange-sized lumps—not its balls, he knew, despite their appearance. They were part of the shaft itself, hugging it beneath the stretched skin. He'd seen something like that before, but his mind was racing too fast to latch onto the memory, and it seemed less important right then than the horrifying realisation that the thing was about to fuck him with it.

This can't be happening, he thinks, heart pounding with fear. As if hearing his thoughts, Draven's black lips seemed to pull into an ugly sort of smirk, before sinking down onto its forearms and shuffling its hindquarters closer.

It will happen, the ominous voice in his head rumbles. There is no escaping your punishment.

At that dark promise, the tip of its cock bumps against his thigh, then slides around as if searching blindly, slipping along sweat-damp skin, nudging Matt's own scrotum and cock aside. To be touched like that under different circumstances might be arousing, but there was no mistaking the danger he was in. This was no lover in his bed, but a wild animal three times his size, and it seemed intent on mating with him despite the fact that he was a man, a human, with a fragile human body not equipped for the obscene intrusion that was about to occur.

Draven seemed to think otherwise.

Matt had no time to switch gears; his entire body was tense, his every instinct attuned to 'fight', so there was no attempt to relax when the bear-wolf's solid, leaking cock finally found its mark and pressed inside without a moment's hesitation. Matt's shout of pain and shock misted in the cold air and echoed through the trees, and despite thinking he might die from this, might be split apart by the thing's sheer girth, at least his voice might have carried their plight to some distant hikers taking camp nearby. Maybe he was too late to save, but Jake…

Jake bit down on his arm in a sorry attempt at stifling his voice as the bear at his back rutted into him with feral carelessness. The raw entry had been the worst thing he'd experienced in his life, but it had numbed to a dull ache now, perhaps because he had focused all his remaining energy on staying calm and simply letting it happen.

If he didn't struggle, Jake reasoned, it would be over all the more quickly.

So he crouched there on all fours, ass in the air, and let himself be used. Just another animal in the forest. The bear's thick cock burned as it slid in and out of his body, but the passage was growing slick, allowing skin to glide against skin, rather than pull and tear as it originally had done. Jake settled into a haze of discomfort and acceptance, because what else could he do? If this was happening, no matter what, then it was better to save his energy.

Another of the bears came to stand before him. From Jake's vantage, head pinned against the dirt, he could glance up to see its cock hung heavy and free beneath its body, a thin string of fluid dangling precariously from its tip. The jaws at the back of his neck released him then, letting Jake lift his face, and he thought he must know what the other bear wanted from him.

It seemed obvious. More than that, he found himself wetting his lips in preparation for it. Whether he did it out of acceptance, or some morbid curiosity, some taboo desire, he couldn't tell. It was insane. He must have been delirious with shock, but when Jake pictured how he must look right now—submissively fucked on the ground by an enormous bear, staring up almost hungrily at the turgid cock of another—he found himself growing hard, his balls drawing closer to his body in carnal interest.

His suspicions were confirmed when the second bear rose up to sit on its hind legs and shuffled forward. Jake knew what it wanted, but it lacked the dexterity to do it on its own. Anyone else might have counted their blessings, let it rut uselessly against their face rather than inside it, but Jake had forgotten the pain entirely by now and was overcome by an appetite all his own.

Reaching up, he grabbed the animal's rigid shaft, so thick he could only wrap his fingers halfways around it, and angled it down toward his waiting lips.

The bear, of course, acted on instinct. As soon as it felt Jake's wet tongue lapping against its flesh, it snapped its hips forward, sinking its cock deep into his throat without hesitation. Jake's eyes flew wide open, his throat spasming at the intrusion. His jaw was stretched impossibly wide, further than he thought possible, and his lungs seized with the sudden inability to breathe, nostrils flaring as they became buried in a patch of rough, damp fur. The scent of the bear's musk was raw, intense, even without the ability to draw it further in.

Jake squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend these were men, not bears. If he didn't focus too clearly on it, he could mistake their cocks for ordinary, human ones, albeit enormous and oddly shaped, tapered as they were at the head rather than the plump helmet of a human's cock. He could imagine one of them was Matt, and decided it would probably be the one thrusting into his throat, because Matt was a pretty well-hung guy himself and they'd done something very similar to this plenty of times before.

But the image faltered despite himself. Matt wasn't as rough as this, and he couldn't ignore the scratch of claws against his flanks, the snarling noises emitted from their slobbering maws. These were wild animals. Bears, not men. The more he thought about it, the more he realised with no small amount of shame that he was okay with that, too.

More than okay: he was undeniably, shamefully enjoying himself.

The huge cock in his ass hammered against his prostate without mercy, while the other slid roughly between his lips and bulged visibly along his exposed throat. It was impossible not to find some sick enjoyment in his position: spitroasted, fucked from both ends, his own cock hard as stone where it hung neglected and twitching above the grass-trodden earth.

He opened his eyes and stared into the matted fur at his nose. It receded, the length of the bear's gleaming wet shaft emerging from his face like some obscene magic trick, and Jake managed a brief gasp of air before the thing lodged itself back in his throat. It tasted filthy, like salt and dirt and wet fur, and he could no longer resist the urge to reach down between his legs to start feverishly stroking himself, his mind lost in the heady mix of flavors.

He could cum like this, he thought dizzily. But not yet. Not before they do. It was suddenly all he could think about: both ends of him being filled up, gallons of hot sperm flooding his ass and spilling down the back of his throat. He thought about Matt, wondered if his friend was enjoying himself as much as he was. He'd heard him shout earlier, but it had been quieter since. And though he was worried for his friend, Jake couldn't drag himself out of his pleasured stupor long enough to truly care.

Matt's voice had gone hoarse. Air wheezed between his lips, but he could only produce a crackle of noise, so tight was his throat with pain as the huge creature above him fucked him mercilessly. It was pinning him on his back to the table, and all he could do was lie there, fists grabbing uselessly at its fur, eyes screwed shut, willing it to stop.

But it didn't. In fact, the more his body gave in, and the softer his muscles became through sheer exhaustion, the quicker its pace built, until the thing was hunched over him, rutting and drooling, its fetid breath misting in the midnight air. All at once it tensed up, claws digging painfully into his skin, and then Matt felt it, felt the beast's massive cock begin to twitch and pulse a thick stream of cum inside him.

There was nothing he could do as his body flooded with heat, his abdomen growing hard with liquid pressure. He knew next to nothing about the sexual habits of wild animals, much less strange, telepathic hybrid-things like whatever Draven was, but he was caught by surprise by just how long its orgasm lasted: Its cock continued to twitch for long, torturous minutes inside him, until the rawness of his ass was completely drowned out by the ache of pressure in his belly.

Just as Matt couldn't stand to be any fuller, the beast unceremoniously pulled out of him with a filthy wet sound. It rose up from the table, and Matt released a heavy sigh of relief at the bite of cold air against his bare skin. He was overheated, sweating from exertion, not to mention having been trapped for so long beneath what was essentially a giant fur blanket.

But if he had thought it was over, his hopes were cruelly dashed a moment later. Draven dragged his pliant, flabby body off the table and threw him to the ground. We are not done yet, its voice echoed in his mind, and suddenly it was crowding over him again, its forepaws gripping around Matt's hips and lifting them off the ground. This time its cock sank easily back into his body, slick as it was from the fluid that had already started leaking out and dripping over his balls.

At this new angle, Matt was in less pain than before, but now he had something new to contend with: Draven once again had him pinned, immobile, and every thrust of the beast's swollen cockhead was rubbing over sensitive prostate, sending shocks of intense pleasure skittering up his spine. Matt grit his teeth against it, but there was no blocking out the physical stimulation.

Matt was dismayed to feel himself growing hard. He could feel every drag of weight over his prostate as if it were a tongue pressed to his cock, sliding along his shaft from root to tip. An image of Jake came into his mind, his mouth wrapped around Matt's cock, his tongue lapping at him. Fuck, no, that wasn't helping. He had to clear his mind. He prayed this would all end before something happened that would shame his thoughts for the rest of his life, assuming he lived through the encounter.

But nothing answered his prayers. There was only Draven, a god all unto itself, and its plan for him was undeniable. As it fucked him on all fours, Matt's voice began to return, but it was in sounds of tortured pleasure now, reluctant moans he couldn't hold back any longer.

Good, Draven's voice found him again. You are beginning to accept your role in this.

Matt shook his head. I'm not, he thought desperately. But his body spoke a different story.

Draven gave a thrust so forceful that its bulk collapsed over him, flattening Matt to the ground. Its groin pressed hard against him, and Matt realised it was cumming again. The fullness of his ass and the burning heat once again spreading through his core made Matt's cock twitch hard where it lay trapped beneath him, but he wouldn't give in. No, he wouldn't give Draven what he wanted.

He may be overpowered, held and fucked against his will, but in this one thing he still had a shred of control. He would be damned if he would give it up so easily.

Jake was a shivering mess when the bear at his face finally pulled its wet cock out of his throat, still twitching with the last vestiges of its orgasm.

He'd been convinced he would choke to death the moment he felt the flesh grow hard as stone and start pulsing its seed down his throat. But somehow he managed to stay conscious, managed to keep swallowing for long minutes, even as his vision was turning black at its edges. It must have cum an enormous volume because his stomach felt heavy with it, like he'd just finished an enormous Thanksgiving dinner. The taste made him a little nauseous, but it wasn't strong enough to override the arousal coursing like wildfire in his veins, even stronger now that he saw the third bear—which had been watching silently from the side until now—approach to take its turn with him.

As it sat in front of him, its cock already emerging from its body like a fat, pink eel, Jake felt a prickle of alarm at the idea of swallowing another load like that. He wasn't sure he could stomach it—quite literally. This time he might really choke, and while he couldn't deny it would be a pleasant way to go out, he didn't intend to die like this.

What's more, he got the distinct impression none of these animals wanted to kill them.

The thought was a mild comfort, a tiny glimmer of hope, until the bear at his back took hold of his hips with warm, heavy paws and lifted him up and back without warning. Jake gave a noise of surprise as his palms left the ground with stones and bits of dirt embedded in his skin, and his knees protested as he was pulled up—still impaled on the bear's solid length— into a sitting position.

It held him there and waited, while the bear in front of him crowded in closer. Jake had no idea what it was doing until all three sets of their hips were aligned together, Jake sandwiched between them. The lack of space meant his arms and legs could only wrap awkwardly around the massive bulk of the one in front of him, but it felt strangely good to be held this way, almost as if the bears were hugging him.

Their intent, of course, was nothing so innocent. And if he didn't already know that from the thick member already throbbing in his ass, it became blindingly obvious when he felt the other bear's eager cock start to nudge at his stretched, burning entrance.

“Oh, fuck," Jake whispered, the curse absorbed into its matted fur. There was no way this was physically possible. He wasn't equipped for this. But the bears seemed to regard him as something matable, despite his obvious physical limitations, and they weren't going to stop trying, not when their minds were set on fulfilling such an all-encompassing primal need.

Jake willed himself over and over to relax as he felt it probing at his anus, testing for a way to squeeze in alongside its companion. After several minutes, it found what it was looking for, and Jake bit back a pained gasp even as the bear made a pleased snuffling sound somewhere above his head. Once past the initial tight ring of his body, the rest of its thick length sank in easily, and Jake's chest rattled with a drawn out moan, relief and arousal unfolding throughout his entire body.

The stretch was indescribable. But he had little time to adjust to it, as both bears began to thrust again, uncoordinated, spurred on by the added stimulation of the other. Jake could only hold on, riding the intense sensations as the two cocks spread him wide and took turns rubbing along the sensitive passage of his ass, sliding around each other like a pair of mating serpents.

His breaths had grown quick and shallow. His mouth parted, tufts of damp, rough fur abrading his tongue. His cock begged to be touched, but he couldn't reach it anymore. All he could do was clench his fists around the powerful torso pinning him flat as he was fucked by two cocks at once. He whined, doing what little he could to grind himself against the belly of the bear in front of him, but it wasn't enough—not enough, damn it. His cock pressed uselessly into the fur, too soft, too little friction. He needed to cum so badly his whole body was shaking with need.

Then the bear behind him bit down on his shoulder, stilled, and gave a muffled roar as it began to pulse thickly inside him. Jake felt the hot liquid rushing into him, filling every available inch of space. It would have been enough, all by itself—he felt his orgasm rushing up to meet him, his touch-starved cock stiffening and throbbing in tense anticipation—but even as the first cock continued to spurt inside him, the other bear's lips curled into a snarl and it gave one final thrust before its cock was also swelling and pulsing hard inside Jake's body.

Jake came hard in that instant, his body seizing so violently that he almost passed out. He couldn't even choke out a cry of pleasure, so paralyzing was the stiffness in every muscle as white hot pleasure prickled and exploded through his groin and out through every vein, stilling his mind and temporarily blinding him. His swollen, untouched cock twitched over and over as it spilled into the bear's fur, a paltry amount compared to the gallons of cum he imagined must be sloshing inside him by now, trapped behind the thick plug of two massive cocks still pulsing pleasurably together inside his ass.

And then his whole world went dark, and he did pass out, still twitching with the last vestiges of his orgasm.

There had been a moment's reprieve as Draven manipulated Matt's limp, exhausted body into yet another position. Its cock had slid out of him, letting some of the fluids trapped in his body spill out onto the dirt, the pressure in him easing. But soon it was on top of him again, and Matt was on his side this time, his left leg held in the air by one of Draven's massive claws.

Its cock plunged inside him again, this time with renewed vigor. There was a singular focus as the creature forced itself deeper than before, and Matt could feel the swollen knot at the base of its shaft bumping against his skin with every thrust.

At least he could be glad there was no way, no fucking way that thing was going to end up—

As if listening to his thoughts, Draven thrust hard against him, pressing the knot against his already considerably stretched entrance, and Matt felt a burn like no other. His mind screamed to a halt; he could feel it, slowly, incrementally gaining ground. He wasn't aware he'd been holding his breath, not until the knot popped through the tight ring of muscle and lodged itself just inside, sending a shock of pain mixed with agonising pleasure shooting through Matt's entire body. He jerked against the ground, his breath leaving him in a silent rush of air.

It was like a switch had been flicked. He could feel the knot inside him, hard, pulsing, and its presence was a source of constant, inescapable stimulation. Matt felt delirious as his cock strained upward and began leaking, his balls drawing tight to his body. He couldn't fight it anymore; his ass was full of heat, his prostate tingling against the heavy weight pressing against it. His orgasm happened without warning, almost without buildup. His back arched and his muscles tensed, and then he was cumming, fluid shooting up into his field of vision, thick ribbons of it coating the grass by his face.

He could feel his ass clenching around Draven's knot, the rhythm of it bringing forth another flood of sticky heat. The knot was like a plug, at once stretching him wide, while at the same time ensuring nothing could escape him—not a single inch of Draven's immense member, nor the tiniest drop of its seemingly endless amount of cum. The pulsing of Draven's cock echoed fiercely in Matt's own, and he found himself trapped in a vicious cycle, his orgasm refusing to abate, not slowing down but picking up even more intensity the more full he became.

He knew his body had reached its capability. It felt like he would burst unless the knot was removed. But no, it stayed there, bulbous and immovable, and as long as it did, his ass continued to betray him, clench around the knot, milking it inside him. On and on it went, maybe minutes, maybe hours. Matt completely lost track of time, succumbing to the blinding pleasure of his overloaded nerves, believing at last that there would be no end, he would be cumming like this forever, and he was strangely grateful for it.

---

Jake blinked open his eyes. At first he didn't register the view of green canvas that greeted him. He was wrapped in something soft, but it wasn't fur. He was cold; alone.

He bolted upright, wide eyes darting around. He was inside his tent, zipped into his sleeping bag, as if he'd never left it. His clothes were back on him, undamaged. For a moment he flopped back and pressed a hand to his forehead, breathing hard as he searched his memories of the night before. Had it all been a dream? A bizarre, terrifyingly realistic dream?

He thought it must, because there was no way that he… Even if he enjoyed it, it was still…

Matt. Matt was there. Oh, God. Was he okay?

Jake scrambled out of his tent like it had caught fire. He was sure it had been a dream, but his worry for Matt was too intense to ignore. He didn't even call out a warning before entering his friend's tent, desperate to see him alive and uninjured.

To his enormous relief, Matt was there, asleep, just as he had been. But Jake's intrusion had woken him, caused his eyes to flicker open, looking for a moment dazed and confused. Matt glanced up at him, a crease forming on his brow.

“Jake?"

“Sorry," Jake said, feeling like an idiot for disturbing him. “I… I had a really weird dream, and just needed to see that you're…"

Something like recollection dawned on Matt's face. His eyes unfocused, hints of emotion flashing behind them. Unconsciously, he slid a hand down beneath the cover of his sleeping blanket to grip his stomach.

When his eyes flicked back up, they looked deadly serious. “That weren't no dream."

The way he said it caused the hairs on the back of Jake's arms to stand on end. He could be right: his body was sore in places that had nothing to do with their hike. But what of the rest of it?

“Our clothes," he pointed out. Matt glanced down then, seeming to notice it for the first time since he woke.

“I dunno," he said. His voice sounded sleep-rough, but maybe it was rough for another reason entirely. “Whatever happened, I… I still feel it in me. There's something in me. Feels like it's… growing."

Jake's blood ran cold, but there was nothing they could do about it here. The sky outside was turning burnt umber, light enough to see their way. They had to get out of here. They had to go home.

“Come on," Jake said, and helped Matt out of his sleeping bag. “Let's get the fuck out of here and forget about this."

Matt nods, but something in his eyes says he wouldn't be forgetting about it any time soon.

Neither of them would.