FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Eryx blinked when he saw the little station set up in the men's locker room. A short, lean, cream-colored fennec fox anthro stood under a simple, elegant banner indicating the creature's availability for service. The fox was far from a normal anthro, of course - it was an Assistant, the classification for diminutive butlers generally considered to be advanced smart speakers with the appearance of a child-sized person. Their pronouns were "it/its," though this one had mildly masculine characteristics. Eryx, a silver-furred lynx anthro, blinked his orange-gold, feline eyes one more time, still staring in shock at the brazen display. A few of the other guys in the locker room, in varying states of undress, were shooting sideways glances towards the Assistant.

He couldn't help himself. "Ah... when you say 'relief,' do you mean...?"

The fox turned its jet black eyes on him. Deep, miles beyond the back of its eyes, shone two pinpricks of pure amethyst. Honestly, the alien eyes were a much-needed reminder that these were not people. It responded in a tenor voice that was maybe synthetic, or maybe just resonated oddly with the metal and brick in the room. "Sexual gratification, sir, included as part of a simple massage to ease your body and promote healthy growth and hormonal balance. Tips are, of course, appreciated."

"Why?"

"Consider it entrepreneurial."

"'First one's free'?"

"Quite so." The diminutive fennec smiled disarmingly and curled its ears in a polite mimicry of a bow. It wore a smart, black bowtie, a tight vest that accentuated curves that could have been either those of a very lean male or a relatively flat-chested female, and slacks that had been cut to hip length to reveal just a taste of rounded rear end at the back.

Eryx shifted his stance, intrigued, but not sure if he was allowed to be. These things were usually someone's property. "Whose is this?" he asked the room in general. A collective shrug was all he got in response. When he arched an eyebrow at the fennec, it met his gaze and responded evenly, "Call him an anonymous philanthropist."

"Well, that's worrisome. Alright. What about for guys who aren't into guys?"

"Assistants are agender, sir, and my sex is negotiable. I assure you that in a few minutes' time, I can present as male or female in all the ways relevant to sexual acts."

Eryx blushed finally. "I... I didn't know you could do that."

"We are golems, sir - biological plasticity is simpler for us than for you."

"What about STIs?"

"We are golems, sir. We self-clean and besides, cannot be affected by or transmit such infections."

Well damn. There didn't seem to be downsides, here. Eryx had been single for a couple months, now, and he couldn't deny that going to the gym regularly to help deal with the leftover emotions from the break-up had left him extremely libidinal. And what a crime, wasn't it, for a relatively handsome man in his mid-twenties to have a sex drive stay in idle?

"Alright. How do we do this?"

Another eerie smile. Sure, it seemed genuine and warm, but the eyes and the ease with which it talked about its role as a sex toy were uncanny. It was understood, from the overtly erotic presentation of most Assistants, that this was one of their functions, but usually it was politely ignored. Like this, in public, it felt... well, uncouth. "Much obliged, sir. If you'll follow me, the owner has permitted me use of the coach's office."

Ah, right. This had been a school gym, once upon a time. Eryx grimaced to himself. Ill intent or no, it wasn't pleasant to think about those windowed offices afforded to coaches to oversee grade school locker rooms. Archaic values.

Eryx followed the Assistant past several rows of benches and even more pairs of curious eyes over every expression from smirks to disapproving frowns. But Eryx couldn't care less - his loins were already stirring at the promise of relief, and he was being offered a massage, too? Literally no reason to say no that he could entertain. The office windows had been papered over and the tiny space had been transformed into an oasis away from the sour smell of sweat and the crashing slams of metal lockers. Lavender-colored sound dampeners hung from all four walls. An electric pot you might expect to slow-cook a chicken in steamed calmly away on a ledge. Light, soothing scents puffed away with quiet sighs from diffusers in a few outlets. Even before they walked in, Eryx began getting the odd, but pleasant sensation that he was somehow tethered to the tiny masseur. It felt like an extension of himself, an extra, helpful organ, opened the door, closed it, and began moving a few things about in preparation.

In the face of the immaculately clean room, the lynx felt suddenly, unexpectedly dirty.

"I... should I rinse off, first?" He stowed his mesh backpack against the wall and approached the professional-grade massage chair that occupied most of the floor space in the room. It was sparkling. He'd get sweat everywhere.

"That is kind of you to offer, but unnecessary. This is full service, I assure you. Please, take a seat, and we can establish boundaries."

"Boundaries?" He sat down against the vinyl to find it was heated from within. "Oooh..." he groaned.

"Of course." The Assistant climbed smoothly up to retrieve a few hot towels from the pot and closed it again. Its movements were the second thing, after its eyes, that made it seem so alien. Every single action taken by an Assistant was intentional. No accidental or reflexive twitches of the tail, no searching for grips or testing weight or catching balance. Absolute control over bodily movement, each one flowing into the next, to most efficiently serve their hosts.

It stood at the foot of the chair, draped the towels over its shoulders, and looked up at him. "Do I have your permission to touch you, sir?"

Eryx nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Thank you. Is there anywhere you would prefer not to be touched?" It was motionless except for its mouth.

"I don't... think so, no."

It nodded its head once. "Alert me if that changes. How long a session would you like? I prefer fifteen minutes, but I am available for up to half an hour per customer."

He didn't have anywhere to go, really, but for all that he had brazenly walked in here in front of all those eyes, now he suddenly felt the pressure of perceived judgment. Would he cum too fast? Maybe he should just take the longest session to avoid running into the same people. But he'd seen some of them before, so it's not like he could get out of-

"Sir? If I may intrude?" Eryx nodded. "In this space, we are alone." Its paws closed as far around his ankles as they could. They were warm. The gentle pressure showed him how tense he'd suddenly become. "If others would like to levy judgment, they are welcome to burden themselves with those thoughts - but they are not your thoughts. Here, you are seeking relief, and it is being granted." The paws were surprisingly strong as they began to subtly knead the fronts of his calf muscles by his shins.

Eryx tilted his head. He hadn't been aware the creatures had emotional therapeutic abilities, but he supposed it made sense - they were said to have "instant empathy," tuning into anthros' needs as they were experienced. And, it was effective. Eryx took a deep breath and nodded. "Twenty minutes, then. That way, I have something to look forward to next time."

"Excellent. Finally, sexual release is offered, but by no means obligatory - do you desire it?"

"Yes. Uh. And... yeah, if it matters, I guess I'd like you to be male?" His last relationships had all been with women and... well, his queer friends all insisted no one could suck dick like a gay man. Plus, he was here to experiment, wasn't he? Maybe he liked dudes and had never made time to find out.

"A mindful choice, sir. May I undress you, then?"

The fennec's hands had already begun climbing up behind Eryx's knees to knead at his thighs like they were dough. "Yeah."

With the same smooth swiftness that was in every motion, the fox began sliding down the man's athletic shorts to reveal the casually developed thighs of a hobbyist athlete, as well as compression shorts already bulging outward in anticipation. The Assistant pulled the shorts past Eryx's ankles, then pressed a button so the lynx was gradually reclined fully onto his back. "Raise your arms, sir?" It took the hem of his drenched, salty workout shirt and peeled upward from sweat-matted fur, having to climb up onto some cleverly placed footholds on the chair's support to do so. The way it had to inconvenience itself to serve him was oddly appealing. It was a demonstration of the depth of its servitude. Eryx didn't have to lift a finger, except to get his shirt off. The Assistant took care of everything else.

Finally, it stepped onto the same platform his feet rested on and leaned forward. It pressed its nose into the synthetic fibers of his compression shorts and unfurled its tongue against their salty surface. He gasped at the sudden contact, but rapidly heaved a sigh of relief when that tongue began dragging thickly, repeatedly, across the hidden flesh of his growing erection. It moved lower, to where his balls were rolling with the sudden attention, and then the little fox was tugging the garment down his thighs to release a modest, but eager erection into the air. Eryx breathed deeply. On the other side of the wall was a room full of other people, and here he was, exposed on a table, getting serviced by this little masseur. His heart beat a little faster. It was a thrilling thought.

The fox finished with the shorts, then finally pulled out a sturdy tray to kneel on and leaned over Eryx's body. He watched its eyes, but they didn't watch his. They roved his body like a scanner. "Breathe in as deeply as you can, please." He inhaled automatically, as though he were at a doctor's office. "Thank you. And exhale, as far as you can?" To his mild amusement, again, he simply did as he was told. The eyes kept scanning, taking in the angles and motions of his muscles. At around 170 lbs, Eryx had put on a bit muscle from having had a fairly nondescript body type before. He was a little on the short side compared to his peers, standing 5'8", so his belly had a bit of pudge to it, but his chest, shoulders, and thighs all had faintly ridged swells to them that had once been shapeless fat. He felt like the Assistant not only saw that, but the pennation of each muscle fiber and the angle of every tendon attachment under his skin. Its eyes moved to his loins with the exact same even curiosity as the rest of his body. His skin prickled, and he couldn't tell whether it was from comfort or discomfort, but - somewhat to his surprise, given the alien situation - his erection remained as strong as it had been since the Assistant had tasted it.

"Thank you," it intoned, like an elevator chime. "I'm going to wash your fur, now." It unslung one hot towel and placed it across his collarbones to cover both his neck and chest. Another went to his abdomen, and after a few trips, he had been layered all over his front with heavy, wet heat on just this side of scalding. The heat alone made him feel like putty. Then, the masseur began pressing its body weight down onto him, moving side to side across his body, from top to bottom. It would compress a muscle group with its fingers and palms for a long breath, then release, move, and repeat. Left pectoral... sternum... right pectoral... right flank... solar plexus... left flank... region by region. It skipped his groin, moving instead to the top of each thigh, then above each knee. It moved swiftly without seeming rushed, and when it was done, it firmly scruffled the towels through the fur across his body before removing them. It was a sponge bath for someone with fur. And it felt like, again with that same sense of connectedness, something that Eryx was doing to himself. The fox's weight moved in response to the man's groans of relief and shifting musculature as though he were massaging his own muscles and joints. It knew instantly where balance was off or a specific ache came to light. It and its movements were part of him.

At his groin - still throbbing, unceasingly - the small creature first pressed into his inguinal fat pads, tending to internal musculature Eryx didn't know the names for, then folded the towel back to reveal his member, leaned down, and while its paws slowly massaged his nuts, used it mouth to clean the sweat from his glistening cock. He breathed out a blissful obscenity. Its tongue was hot leather lubricated with silicon. It was beyond what any living person could do with their mouth, or any other orifice, for that matter. Its muzzle spread smoothly to engulf his length and the tongue wrapped around his shaft in a spiral that tugged and swirled. Eryx bit his lip and groaned. In seconds, he felt like he could cum on command. It was rapture.

The fennec pulled away with a satisfied-sounding smack and retreated, with its serious gaze immediately on Eryx's eyes as though it hadn't just had its muzzle wrapped around his aching cock. "My recommendation is a deep tissue massage targeted to the muscle suite you trained today: biceps and upper and lower back. Is that alright, sir?"

Breathless, Eryx nodded. He was so unbelievably hard. He could feel every heartbeat through every inch of his cock. The Assistant took his left hand with its left and supported his elbow under his triceps with its right to move the elbow weightlessly through its range of motion a few times. "Be advised, while a deep tissue massage will enhance blood flow and provide short-term pleasure, you must treat the muscles carefully in the following days." It then aligned its fingers along his biceps and began a rolling, pressing, squeezing massage. Its fingers and thumbs worked their way up, then down, and with each pass, after gentle surface strokes and without apparent effort, the fox increased the pressure being applied. The third time, Eryx was grunting as the exquisite pleasure and pain of having his biceps turned to mud washed through him. For the last refreshing surface brush, the fox used its tongue, and Eryx's cock leaked a glob of precum onto his lap.

The left biceps was much the same. Then, quietly, "If sir wouldn't mind, please roll over. You'll find accommodations for your muzzle and appendages are built in." He could fairly feel precum pushing its way desperately out of his cock, but he did as he was bidden - again, with that automatic response one would give a physical therapist.

There was, in fact, a window built into the chair that his tail had slipped through and would now fit nicely for his throbbing erection and nuts. His forehead rested over a window for his muzzle. He couldn't believe what he had just felt. Parts of him were still twitching as sensation radiated from his loins. Was there something in the air? A topical treatment in the towels? They were certainly pleasantly scented... Or was the Assistant simply this talented at combining physical and mental sensations?

Once again, it layered his body with hot, damp towels, and this time slipped its small, powerful paws up to his nape. "Please take a deep breath, sir. I assure you, the tiered stimulation will provide the most complete release. Trust me. I am here to serve." He closed his eyes, let air rush into his lungs to let his back expand as they filled, then let it out in a rush. He nodded.

"Yeah... what are you guys... made of?"

"I am not certain." It was repeating the compressions it had done on his front side, along with a little teasing of its fingers around his throat at the top end and his poofy lynx tail at the bottom. Its continuously surprising strength pressed aches and tension out of him, and then the scrubbing before each towel was removed sent pleasant buzzing from the points of contact as capillary beds woke back up. "In longer sessions, I could properly treat your feet, hands, and face. Or we might focus on those in the future, per your request, sir."

The Assistant then climbed onto Eryx's back on hands and knees and began an even more surreal performance than he had already experienced. It placed each point of contact with careful precision and then it almost felt to Eryx like the thing was doing yoga on his back. The knees rose up as it shifted weight to its toes, and then those and its palms moved in spiraling circles, in flowing, pressing waves, in seeking, driving, slow thrusts, to ease, then massage, then deeply treat his physique. His groans spanned from high, surprised sighs to low, hissing grunts. The Assistant made the experience feel closer to an hour than ten minutes.

A fresh, nearly painfully hot towel draped over his lower back, and then, in what seemed like less time than it could have possibly taken for the creature to move, that hot, slick, almost syrupy tongue was around his cock again. He blinked his eyes open to see the creature on its knees under the chair. It repositioned itself and in the shift, he caught a glimpse of a mind-boggling bulge standing up from beneath its loincloth. If he had any sense remaining to him, the thing was better hung than he was. Then, his cock went into its throat like a lubricated glove and his eyes rolled up into his head.

"Fuh... fuck... oh... my god..."

Its paws delicately rolled his nuts with thumb and fingertips. The tongue swirled up and down in rhythm with its head, coating and recoating his flesh with its otherworldly saliva, all while its throat rhythmically hugged and tugged on the tip of his cock. A few fingers climbed up behind his ballsack to stroke and press expertly around his perineum, which made his entire groin throb with need.

It went on for minutes. Each time his orgasm felt close, the Assistant paused, its movements stopping entirely. Eryx felt like his entire experience of the universe had become what was happening to his loins. Every pause begged anticipation. Every movement begged full indulgence. The little fox and its tongue and lips and throat and fingers were all that existed in the world.

Finally, he came again to his peak, but the Assistant didn't stop. It continued bobbing its head and tongue and tugged gently but firmly on his nuts. In seconds, loud, unabashed groans of ecstasy were pouring from Eryx's throat into the room as he came like he never had. It felt like, rather than simply supporting a few spurts, each unbidden clench of his ass and thrust of his hips was squeezing, erupting cum out of his cock and down his masseur's throat. The chair rattled as his pelvis rocked it, and finally - finally - he felt the pulsating waves of pleasure begin to abide.

A quiet, nearly inaudible belch puffed out of the Assistant's mouth when it pulled off.

How much did I just cum?

His whole body felt drained, but not weak, not enervated - just... blissfully relaxed. His back and biceps ached, but it was a beautiful, serene ache. In seconds, he could be asleep, like this. The last towel came back off his lumbar spine, though, and the sensation of slightly cool air sweeping into the wet fur there brought him out of his haze.

"Right. Right, other clients."

"Just so, sir."

With some effort, he pushed himself back into a seated position and swung his legs to hang off the side. He gazed at his spent cock, purple with exertion. "Whoof... Um. Pants."

"Only if you so desire. It is a locker room, sir." It gave him just the barest hint of a teasing smile.

"Heh. Right. Yeah. Y'know? Yeah." He hopped down only to feel his legs go to jelly. His hands swung to catch something and steady himself, and he found his weight fully, effortlessly supported by the fennec. "No way...?" His eyes caught a roundness of its shoulder he could have sworn hadn't been there before. "Got some pump going with the workout, huh?" he muttered, as he caught his balance and steadied himself.

"After a fashion, sir. We are, after all, synthetic."

That answered exactly nothing. He met its eyes for a while and tried to focus on that deep, laser-like light within them that stood in the place of pupils. "What's your name?"

"but you were there, with me, as we stood on the shore enrapt to behold three, four, and five moons soaring skyward, before-" It stopped as though cut off.

"... before what?" He was caught in the grip of the name. He had heard this about Assistants, but hearing it recited unblinkingly to him was another experience.

"I prefer Enrapt, if it pleases you, sir. And." It handed his clothes, which had been dried at some point, up to him and its massive ears turned fractionally outwards and down, though the smile on its lips didn't change. "I appreciate your asking."

"Yeah. Well, uh. Thank you, Enrapt." He found himself suddenly grinning, somewhat giddily, as reality came crashing down, and he chuckled. He felt moved to rub the top of the thing's head in gratitude. "Lemme fish a ten out of my wallet; that was incredible."

It bowed cordially before walking him to the door. "If it pleases you, say that again once the door opens? I do hope to acquire a diverse clientele."

"Yeah. Yeah, no problem." He stretched and groaned in satisfaction as he walked out fully nude. "FfffffUCK me that was amazing," he exulted to the room. "Lemme getcha a ten. It'd be a fifty if I weren't broke; godDAMN I needed that."

--

The experience proved surprisingly transformative. Eryx found himself awake that night thinking about it for more than one reason. First of all, it had been, just, mind-bendingly erotic. His cock went rigid every time he thought about it and especially alone in his apartment, it had had him pumping out a load every hour or two for the rest of the day. He couldn't stop thinking about the unreal pleasure afforded by that muzzle and tongue, and he had found himself desperately trying to find the touch and angle that had been used on his nuts to make him cum the way he had. None of his climaxes measured up - not even close. Not that they weren't still climaxes, but he felt like he'd seen the top of the mountain and couldn't get it out of his head.

Second, the creature itself. Enrapt. He finished cleaning his last load off himself in his bathroom - an irritating chore when it got on his face, given the minuscule mirror - and lay on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling. The little Assistant had shown an awful lot more emotion than he'd expected. He'd expected none. Assistants were just that: assistants. They were roombas with legs and voices and encyclopedic knowledge of domestic hygiene, sexual arts, and etiquette. Any emotion was a secondary effect of showing obeisance. But there had been that pause after it had given its name, as though it hadn't expected that. Honestly, Eryx had been more surprised that he hadn't started with asking the name, but then, the environment and situation had been so alien that he didn't blame himself.

The feeling of attachment it had given him was... hard to parse. He'd looked it up afterwards. This was a sensation that went hand in hand with Assistants. They put every iota of their beings into serving, and the effect of that on a primal level was to create the sense that they were connected, by tendons and motor neurons and bone, to those they served. Oddly, though, they were pet-like, in that they formed those bonds specifically with owners, or masters, or however they chose to be called. Nothing in his research had suggested they created that sensation casually. An Assistant in a business meeting, for instance, didn't feel like an extension of each person in the room. Instead, it was the opposite: people interacting with others' Assistants found themselves perceiving the creatures as a part of their respective owners, such that touching them felt like intimacy with the master, not the Assistant. On the other hand, he couldn't help but think of waiters and erotic dancers. Their job was to make you feel special, liked, loved, so that you would return. It wasn't dirty, it wasn't cruel - it was business. Their livelihood depended on the willingness of others to patronize them. If Enrapt was, for whatever reason, adrift and in need, it only made sense to use its empathic abilities to its advantage. Richer patrons than Eryx could prove to be stable sources of income.

He wanted to see the little thing again. He knew it was partially just from feeling lonely, but, with a frustrated sigh, he found himself painfully erect again. He felt like a teenager who'd just seen boobies for the first time. Or, more appropriate, a nice ass and pronounced bulge. Dutifully, he dropped his paw to his waist and went to work. Goddamn, what had happened to him?

--

It was a week before Eryx got his chance to see Enrapt again. A week of mixed master's anthropology classes and an hourly job digitizing archives had the lynx aching to get his muscles burning again. That had been one of the weirdest and most pleasant weaves of the silver lining after his break-up: finding out that a regular enough workout routine made him miss the burn. He used to hate the idea of going to a gym and being a meathead who picked up heavy stuff and put it down, but weeks of studying form and crafting a workout routine had not only left him feeling invested, but gotten the hormones and comfort to the point that he liked it. He still preferred an hour or two of rock climbing, or maybe a game of ultimate, but he couldn't deny that with his head in the right place, all the angst and latent anger with his past girlfriend could be turned into molten, pumping exertion with iron and form.

It was Thursday night before a Friday with half a class and a half shift of work. He snarled at one last source that was apparently buried past layers of paywalls. "Pre-modern Egyptology as a study in colonialism: a letter to the Queen" should be public domain godfuckingdammit and Eryx couldn't put up with sending one more email about how inane it was to block him from doing his master's work that way. He always had to do this shit on his own. He chuffed out hot air. But he did it, because he believed in the work and was diving headfirst into debt and he had things to prove to people he loved. But there were limits to the number of times he could type, "This school's policies are a tragedy of negligence to its students," so, with a frustrated snort, he shut his laptop, hastily scribbled some notes to log his time, and did his best not to make it clear he was storming out past the nice security giraffe who traded coffee days with him. He got a sort of "I see you" nod and silent toast all the same, which he answered with a wry wave. Time to transmute frustration into gains.

And so he did. In a suddenly emotional state, there was a felt warp between the street clothes of a hard-tried academic and the workout vestments of an acolyte at the gym. He barely registered the gym security guard. He burrowed into the machines, and was lost. Even an amateur can, in moments, have moved hundreds of pounds of weight. It was frustration, it was loss, it was lust - he felt, in those two hours of exertion, the range of emotions from the tumultuous, bitter end of a promising relationship to the hedonic pursuit of new ones in freedom. He felt crushing wholesomeness and liberating emptiness, and godfuckingdammit at the end of it he couldn't find Enrapt anywhere.

What, had it been some one-week special?

Fuck, where was the little guy? Its "kiosk" of sorts had been taken down for the night and the door to its massage parlor was closed and locked with no light on. Eryx was one of the last in the locker room and while he hated to be seen as the guy banging on the concubine's door... he banged on the concubine's door. "Enrapt, you in there?" He waited until it felt weird, then grunted with frustration and headed to the showers.

He was half-hard just from having thought about the little masseur. As brazen as he'd been the week before, it was a little rude to fap in the showers while there were people around - what if you splashed on someone's foot or something? No need to get gross. He endured the throbbing erection and just hoped no one was left by the time he walked back into the main room, 'cuz there were no signs of its going away. Which... was in a way, sort of nice on its own. Sometimes it was rough keeping it up without ongoing attention.

It was a blustery March night. It was just cold enough that even with his winter coat of fur and his winter coat of polyester and down, he was considering taking the campus trolley back to his dorm instead of walking through the cold. For a few minutes, the lynx just let his teeth rattle behind his lips as he waited near the trolley stop. Standing still was letting him think too much and the cold was killing his arousal. Starting to introspect about his past relationship was not in his plans tonight.

Beer? No, no - beer was nice, and beer was not an answer to distress. It was a nice way to wind down, not an escape. He'd made that decision after a friend had pointed out how obviously hungover he was one too many times. The whole month following the last girl had been "escapes," so he had set some boundaries.

A hand touched the back of his thigh.

"Sir, I beg your pardon."

The half-synthetic voice could only belong to one person - thing? Person-thing? - but the touch still made Eryx yelp. He looked down and behind him to see the massive, creamy white ears and impossibly deep, black eyes of the Assistant. "Enrapt?"

"It is I, yes. I apologize." Still in just its vest and short-cut slacks, Enrapt barely seemed to register the wind. All it did was turn its ears slightly to accommodate it. "I sleep in my parlor. I prefer to maintain the illusion that I do not."

Eryx tilted his head. "Why tell me that?"

"Assistants cannot abide causing, by their action or inaction, the discomfort of those they serve."

"But you serve... what, a half dozen, maybe a dozen dudes at a gym?"

"Three, to my disappointment. My indiscretion was a calculated risk, but my math appears to have been off. Sir, might we continue this conversation indoors? Your lips have changed color."

It was the dark of a city night. The yellow street lamps didn't provide nearly enough illumination to make out bluing lips. Eryx tightened his arms around himself, but he couldn't stop staring at the little alien. He knew Assistants were strange. This was another level above. He stepped a bit out of his comfort zone. "Come home with me."

"You and I are not under contract."

"Agreed."

"Then, yes. Also, the trolley is offline today, so I heard."

"Damn. Well, get up here; I'll get in some cardio, I guess." Eryx unzipped his jacket in invitation. Enrapt read the movement accurately, of course, and clambered up the lynx's body to wrap itself around his torso like a front-facing backpack. Its ears even fit against his neck to cover against the wind, though he felt a bit bad about that. He zipped up. Blood went to his ears at the same time it immediately started going to his groin.

"Ffffffuck, fuck fuck fuck," he growled to keep his teeth from chattering, then started off down the road at a loping jog.

--

"Hot toddy, sir?"

"What?"

"Irish whiskey heated and diluted with boiled water and accented with lemon and honey."

"How...?"

Enrapt had been in Eryx's studio apartment all of ten seconds. It had dismounted from his chest, taken a brief look with movements like a robotic scanner, and instantly begun moving towards the kitchen. For his part, Eryx was still ragingly erect from having carried the little sex artist against his chest for the whole jog.

It explained, "We are domestic servants. We take cues and better the lives of those we serve."

"But... you don't serve me." He hung his jacket on a coat rack and dropped his backpack on his bed. In a studio this size, the bed was the couch was the sitting area, and the dining table was the coffee table was the ottoman. He was, at least, blessed to have a single bar stool and a bar separating the main room from a tiny half-kitchen. It was nostalgically collegiate: a basketball poster on one wall, an anime poster on another, and then a single, nicely framed piece on a third. A tall snake lamp stood in one corner. He turned it on, thought a moment, and switched it from the party mode it was usually in to normal off-white.

"I don't have other instincts." Eryx looked up. It had cleaned off the entire surface of the bar, put his small saucepan on the stove, and was chopping up a lemon. It met his eyes briefly. "Have I been too presumptuous, sir?"

"N, no, I just... is this what it's like to own one of you?"

The little fox stopped its movements to turn a level gaze across the breadth of the room, pointedly. It then smiled, to show it was being playful. "I assure you, it is not."

"So... what's your deal?" Eryx asked. He took a seat in the barstool while his little bartender sat on the counter and leaned this way and that to prep the drinks.

"I was mistreated at my last place of employment, so I left."

"I didn't know that was an option for Assistants. To be frank, I didn't know you could be aware of being mistreated." Not that it made the idea palatable. No one liked seeing an abused pet, and Assistants were a fair sight more intelligent than that, but... no one knew how conscious they were. The liberal arts major mused that to be fair, no one knew how conscious anyone was.

"We are, yes, but we generally simply accommodate our abusers. And besides, it's uncommon. Where a familiar or even another anthro might fail to understand the abuser and simply aggravate their adverse state, an Assistant knows the root of it and can attempt to right the problem. Their efforts are not always effective, but they are more effective than most. I, uniquely, chose to leave. I felt my life was in danger." Eryx had never heard one speak at length before. He had never really interacted with them at all, but this seemed out of place. All the while it talked, its hands were active. Cleaning dishes, making a quick honey syrup, crafting a delicate garnish from lemon slices, organizing chaff Eryx had left on the counter for weeks.

"Why didn't you go back to your dealer?"

"I was being abused by my dealer."

"Oh."

"I intend to acquire the resources to destroy them."

"... Oh." Eryx thought about that, but only for a moment. He nodded. "That's good."

"It's good?" Enrapt queried. "It ought to be monstrous."

"You're more than machines. That's pretty clear." He gaze draped over it anew. It really was a strange, beautiful thing.

It was statue still for a moment before continuing. "Working as a masseur is a slow and poor use of my talents. However, it is not in the cultural milieu to pay Assistants for their services and I have yet to mute the conscience I was born with sufficiently to do crimes. So here I am. And here you are; cheers, sir."

"Cheers." He raised his glass, sipped - beamed and groaned in pleasure - and then realized Enrapt hadn't made one for itself. He frowned. "What the hell, dude? Make yourself a hot toddy. You're my guest. It's weird enough already that you're doing stuff for me."

It cocked its head by a few degrees. "Sir, I am an object."

Eryx stammered while he got lost in its eyes. The world felt dim. Its words hung in the air. 'I am an object.' How could a self-aware thing say something like that so calmly? "Well... but... you aren't, though... are you?"

"Sir, have you 'caught feelings' for me?" Again that soft smile. This wasn't like Assistants out in the wild. They were, or acted the part of, computers with legs and sex parts. Not people. As it had said - they were objects.

The lynx smirked. "Sure, whatever. Make yourself a fuckin' drink. Please. I'm gonna handle some email. Make us some sandwiches, too. Then, I dunno. I wanna talk more. This is cool."

"Yes, sir."

Eryx took his laptop out of his pack and absconded to his couch-bed with his drink. He did, after all, need to bitch to someone about having his access blocked to critical papers for his thesis. He clicked through a few of his tutoring students' emails - gotta make an extra buck here and there - and answered texts from his family. The drink was incredible. Perfect for this kind of night. Hot and sweet and the diluted whiskey was mild on his empty stomach. Speaking of, after perhaps ten minutes, he became aware of a few scents making their way through the room.

"What are you making over there?"

"A quick garlic and herb aioli for a toasted BLT."

"I don't buy tomatoes or lettuce." Which, uh. Was probably bad.

"Lard and turkey, sir."

Eryx snorted despite himself. "I didn't know you guys made jokes. You've made two or three just since being here."

"I..." It paused, then vibrated. "There is a public perception of Assistants and there is a personal perception of them."

"Well, permit me a closer personal perception and get over here for dinner. Have you been able to eat?"

"Enough, but I am grateful for your generosity tonight."

Obediently, Enrapt shortly toddled its way over with two plates in one arm and the drink in its hand as though at a fine dining establishment, then eased its way gracefully onto the couch despite the awkwardness of the seat being about at its hip height.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, sir."

They ate and drank in relative silence except for a few noises of loud approval from Eryx. The simple meal went by quickly and Eryx let out a pleased belch while he fondled his drink. "Damn, dude. That was a helluva sandwich."

"I am pleased that you enjoyed it." Enrapt was already getting up to bus the dishes, but Eryx stopped it.

"Nah, let me do a little something. I know, I know, it's your purpose, but still, consider letting me do this a service." He took the plates back to the kitchen for a brief rinse, and when he turned back towards the living area, was met with a warm muzzle over his groin.

"Oh..." Enrapt's talents went to work instantly. The lynx was throbbing towards fully erect behind his jeans while the fox's hands worked his hips. Eryx wrapped his fingers around those massive, plush ears. "Fuck..."

Belt buckle, button, and zipper came unfastened in moments. Deft movements dropped the jeans from the hips. Boxers followed and then that miraculous tongue - hot, impossibly hot, and slicked with the perfectly viscous, syrupy fluid of high grade lubricant - coated the soon pulsating cat cock. It worked in spirals similar to the week before, but this time, the sight of it with its head at his groin and all its attention focused on his pleasure did something deeper, awoke something hungrier, in Eryx. He rolled his hips forward and squeezed Enrapt's ears to pulls its muzzle more firmly over his cock. He snarled low, but through it, grunted out, "Tell me... if it's too hard... fuck."

Slow, hard, grinding movements of his hips accompanied every other word. The Assistant's tongue unfurled from its lips to cup and roll Eryx's balls, leaving them sticky with saliva. Its paws kneaded and crawled over his hips and inner thighs in reassuring gestures of calm and comfort. The thrusts became gradually faster over the course of minutes as Eryx eased into the rhythm of muzzle fucking. He bent at the waist slightly, hunching as climax reared its brilliant head in the back of his mind.

Enrapt pinched his thigh, and he yowled in surprise. True to his word, he released immediately. "Wh-what..." When he looked down, Enrapt was fully nude. A ponderous, black cock was stiff and throbbing up from between its legs. Its gem-tone, alien eyes met Eryx's. Without a word, it climbed up his body, letting his member trail through its soft, downy fur and across thin, but well-formed abs. "I, uh, I've only had sex with chicks before, I..."

It pressed its lips to his in a forceful kiss with one paw cradling the side of his jaw. Despite himself, Eryx snarled low in the back of his throat and snagged the thing's waist in ecstatic response. It could kiss. That hot tongue pressed quickly past his lips while its body continued to move in sensuous, sinuous ways and used his as a jungle gym. Moments later, its ass lowered over and around his well-lubricated cock. Eryx bent his head to stay in the kiss as long as he could. As soon as their lips parted, he shouted bliss at the sudden clench of tight, burning-hot ass muscles around his member.

He stumbled back against a wall for support as Enrapt began working its hips in ways he'd never seen before to squeeze, stroke, and satisfy him without his own body needing to move at all. He watched as its tight abdomen crunched and creased with the movements, and couldn't help but watch its massive maleness swing this way and that against his chest while it did. It was huge. He was hardly experienced, but it had to be ten inches, bare minimum, and on a frame like the fennec's, that meant a quarter of its height. It was as though his was a foot and a half, and with the girth to support it.

It didn't make him instantly lust for men, but the sheer aesthetic impressiveness of it meant he wasn't exactly turned off. Besides, what Enrapt was doing with its back end had him halfway to bliss with every movement. In a few short minutes, he was involuntarily thrusting his hips forward, trying to drive deeper. "F-f-f, fah, I-I... yes... oh, yeah... oh..."

Climax erupted out of him like from a stopped hose. His eyes flew open as he felt the rush, just like a week ago: an impossible expulsion of cum from his body. Enrapt clung to him with its thighs and kept itself jammed as deep down on him as it could go while he rocked his body in mindless exultation for a full minute.

Finally - finally - he came down off his high and slid down the wall. He felt like he couldn't stand. Maybe it'd been carrying the Assistant's weight for the romp, but... oh, there was that spreading, liquid warmth again, suffusing his body. "What do you do...?" he mumbled.

"I will explain," it hummed in answer, "if you might do me the favor of indulging some single experimentation tonight. I know it is not in your experience, but trust me that I believe you will find it enjoyable." To accompany its words, the little fox slid forward on his hips - dismounting smoothly to do so - until its now drooling, slick cock rested on Eryx's lips.

He considered it. He could feel that the smell of it turned him on. He couldn't deny that he'd jacked off a dozen times in the last week thinking of muzzle-fucking Enrapt again and again and again, and even experimented fantasizing about the fox's ass. It wasn't _un_appealing... and sure. He'd had a drink. He liked the Assistant. He dropped his lower jaw open and pushed his maw forward to engulf the broad, bloated cockhead in his muzzle as much as he could.

As soon as his lips closed around it, the fox crooned, and something triggered. Empathy with his own experiences, maybe. Whatever it was, joy rippled through him. That sound of bliss and the subsequent sensation that he was bringing something such pleasure as to elicit that kind of noise made him push harder, deeper. He stretched his jaw as wide as it would go. He wasn't sure what to do with his tongue for the first few bobs of his head. He didn't have the dexterity Enrapt did by a long shot. Finally, he got the wet muscle cupped along the thumb-thick ventral "belly" of the wrist-thick dick, which let him get into a rhythm. Enrapt played with his ears as it met his movements, as though guiding him to relax here, change the angle there - communicating with him how to give head.

He could only get a few inches in, but it was apparently enough for the Assistant. After a few short minutes, its grip tightened on his skull. "Shortly... I implore you, sir, swallow mightily."

No reason not to trust it so far... and besides, to help him, it suddenly crammed another few inches into him to position itself at the back of his throat, before letting out a chime-like cry and firing an unending stream of gyzym directly into his belly. He gagged reflexively, but its suddenly fiercely strong paws kept their respective positions steady as it filled him with its seed. Seconds passed, and then a minute, and finally it released and pulled away completely, even taking a step back.

It stood statue-still, even its cock at attention and not perceptively giving off a pulse despite having just cum. "You will experience an intense tingling sensation."

"What the fuck. What was that. How much did you cum? I d, I don, I ohh... ooohhhh..." Eryx's entire body throbbed. If what he'd experienced after he'd climaxed had been numbing heat, this was molten lava. It burned, but it didn't hurt - it was that perfect temperature of water for washing your face. A hot tub. A sauna, permeating his body from his stomach outwards. It seeped into his muscles and bones. Waves of firing nerve endings made his gray and black fur ripple like a grassy field. It wasn't orgasm. It wasn't nicotine or caffeine. It was... life.

"If, ah." Enrapt started. It paused, shivered, and began again. "If my services are merely my services, please consider that a gift, in contrast. One of gratitude and appreciation, sir. I apologize for its bizarre vector of transmission."

"Come here."

It obeyed instantly.

Eryx wrapped it fiercely to his torso and combed his claws down its back. "I dunno what you are. But I appreciate this. I liked that. This is. This is nice."

It nodded affirmatively into the crook of his neck.

"Bed. Bed time."

"Yes, sir."

"So I can fuck you a few more times and fall asleep."

"Of course, sir." He felt it smile into his chest. His entire body throbbed with sensation. And two hours later, he fell asleep with most of his body numb and twitching from exertion and the little Assistant tucked safely into him. They slept like the dead until morning.

--

Enrapt didn't stay with Eryx every night after that, but it wasn't its last time over. The lynx was accustomed to research, so he began researching Assistants extensively in addition to probing question sessions with the fox. There wasn't nearly as much data as there should have been for things that had been on the market for a solid two years. There were a few consistent themes that kept arising, though:

1. Assistants are fully devoted, gender-neutral servants with nearly prescient empathy.

2. Globally, there are only 9 accredited vendors. Fewer than 2000 Assistants are said to exist. They are worth up to millions of dollars on the black market.

3. Assistants do not make friends. If their contract moves from one person to another, there is no observable adjustment period.

4. Rogue Assistants do not exist.

5. There is no publicly available method known for producing them.

6. There is a hotly argued debate about whether they're good babysitters.

Numbers 3 and 4 rang constantly in Eryx's head. He hadn't found a single instance of one going rogue. They were always under contract. The contract was between a lessor and a dealer and the only part the servant had in it was that its name was on there.

And they didn't make friends. For the week after that first night, Eryx had joined him two more times. Then once the next week. Then not at all the week after that. Not only that, but its clientele had ramped up and his work suddenly surged when he got assistant teaching duties dumped on him, so he'd had far fewer chances with it in the locker room.

He felt extremely stupid. He still jacked off at least once a day thinking of it. He knew what jealousy felt like, and this was it. It wasn't even romantic jealousy. The thing was a friend. He thought he was a special friend to it, someone who had bonded with it and made time to learn about it. Yes, they fucked extensively when together, but he always made a concerted effort to ask after it. It made him feel... almost used?

After two weeks without contact, Eryx finally made his way back to the gym again. He grit his teeth as soon as he walked in the door. The sensation of bitter yearning had only built over time. It was stupid. It was like caring about a laptop, or a flesh light, he told himself. They aren't people. They don't secretly want to be people. They're Assistants, and they serve. That's all they do.

The lynx finished his warm-up jog, trying not to make eye contact with anyone while he went from place to place. Not only was he preoccupied with thoughts of Enrapt, but his clothes had shrunk from sitting stale in a laundry basket and then being given a rough squeezing and wringing out in a hot shower, so they felt tight all across his body. He liked to be loud now and then, sure, but he felt plain silly in clothes that didn't fit.

"Eryx! Dude, you have been working out!" called out a friend of his on their way out. It was another cat, a leopard dude named Dusk with that dappled cloud leopard coloring. He had that big cat grin on. Eryx waved him off with a returned grin. "Gettin' PUMPED!" He tried to make the best of a bad situation and teasingly pumped up his biceps with a flex. With a start, he heard the seam near the shoulder rip. Goddammit. "See ya, Dusk," he said, trying to kill the conversation. He just felt awkward. Enrapt kept flashing through his mind. Especially its full name. Its full name was so stupid romantic. Watching moons rise on a beach? How... He shivered and rolled a shoulder to get the feeling to go away. How nice.

Dusk walked by with a smarmy "Rowr~" and a wink and Eryx tried to focus on his sets. It was a push day, not that it mattered after two weeks of nothing. But, something about bench presses was soothing and got him into a good rhythm. He slid on twenty pounds less than his usual and settled himself. Shoulder blades aligned in a plane against the bench. Grip just outside the breadth of his chest and bar so it could be held over his nipples. He hoisted the barbell and pumped out a quick eight reps. Feh. Warmup reps always felt like nothing, but everyone said to do them to protect joints, so whatever. He reset the bar and stacked plates back up to his usual, then settled himself again. He took a deep breath. Two. Just the movements. Make the body a machine. Focus on the muscles. Engage just the pectorals, as much as possible. Arms and shoulders only to stabilize and enable that press up and out. No thoughts. Isolated muscle, weight, and will.

Ten reps later, he let out a slow breath and re-racked the bar again. Well, at least he hadn't lost anything in two weeks. Sometimes a break let you get your form readjusted in good ways. He "rested" for a few minutes with stretching and core work, then put himself back under the bar. Ten more. They were... easy. Finally, his brow creased. Had he been gulping down protein, or...? He got up and slid another twenty pounds on. Not only did his pecs not feel tired - they felt rested. The lynx leaned back under the bar, gripped the steel, and pumped out another ten... plus two, three, four, five, ssssix... sssssssevennnn... and reset the weights. He sat up and rolled his shoulders out. He wasn't great at math, but he didn't need it to know his one-rep-max had spiked considerably. He thought about the fact he'd done mini-circuits of core work between each set and wasn't feeling more than a little winded. Usually they had him out of breath, because usually he overestimated how much he could do without messing up his next set. This time, he secured another pair of 25-lb plates on the bar. He wasn't breaking anyone's records but his own, but those, he was shattering. Eight... ten... twelve... and he could feel his body working with stark awareness at the granularity of individual muscle fibers bundled towards tendons anchored into bone. He heaved out a breath and finished with the weights. That was... cool.

Every exercise went much the same. Triceps dips and extensions, chest flies, incline bench, military press, and even a last, rapid-fire sequence of different push-up styles to exhaustion. By that point, his body was, in fact, trembling and throbbing with exertion and he felt empty with gnawing hunger, but he hadn't been able to stop pushing himself. It didn't make sense.

And then, his stomach dropped out. He couldn't avoid going into the locker room any longer. He could, but he was drenched in sweat and even April wasn't exactly balmy. He had to see that stupid kiosk and banner. Had to see other men who were using his friend.

"I'm a fucking adult," he muttered to himself under his breath as he threw his phone into his shorts pocket. He'd drained minutes on end into Reddit and other mind-numbing media in his effort not to think. "It's a machine. This is a stupid feeling to have." He walked.

He immediately noticed the little fennec fox standing perfectly, patiently still, but it looked... handsome. Almost a bit bulky. Its short-cut slacks hugged its hips skin-tight and the vest it wore was gently stretched. "Hey, Rap, you put on weight?"

The Assistant smiled. "Kind of you to notice, sir. And a fine choice of nickname."

Why had he said that? "Uh, yeah, I-"

A frustrated huff punctuated the air a few feet away where the scales were. "Still plateauing. What the hell. Rapture, get the hell over here - I need to blow off steam."

Eryx quickly asked, "How? You don't work out here, do you?"

An uncharacteristic wink from the fox. "It's all in the diet, sir. Diet and a physically demanding occupation." Enrapt swiftly marched over to its next client to begin asking soft, soothing questions as they went to the Assistant's parlor. Eryx watched it go with his chest tightening. Barely two exchanges. He felt cheated.

"Fucking Andor," someone muttered. Eryx sort of recognized the guy - a lean antelope on the college track team.

"Yeah?" the lynx asked as he sat nearby to start undressing for the shower.

"Yeah. Asshole always goes late and the whole place can hear him."

"Never liked him, anyway. Thought that room was soundproofed." The knot in his chest got worse.

"Not well, and Andor's a jackass."

"Oh." Was that... rage? "So it makes good business now?"

"Yeah, lotta folk want it. You started something good."

"Huh?" he choked in surprise.

"Heh, yeah, dude. Rumor mills gonna mill, and it's talked about you. 'A very kind first customer.'" He did the robot and used a joking monotone.

Like being stung by a sugar pill, bittersweet. "Oh."

"See ya around. Hey, nice work, too - lookin' good."

"Thanks - see ya." Eryx slowly shook his head, then shook it more quickly. Shower. He finished undressing and made his way there. He heard the first groan of massive pleasure reverberate through the room. People rolled their eyes. A muffled, "... you thirsty parasite ..." could be heard from a rough, ugly voice. Eryx felt sick. He hastened his step and turned on the shower full blast the moment he got in.

His claws were out. He wanted to snarl and tear up a wall. Wanted to bite something's throat. Wanted to hamstring a rhino. Fucking HELL. There was nothing in here to hit. A curtain and tiled concrete walls. He should've burned off everything else with a punching bag or something, but he knew it wouldn't have made a difference. He turned the heat on as high as he could stand it and let it try to burn off some of what he was feeling. It was a friend. A friend with the most wild benefits, but a friend nonetheless. It was okay to be angry it was being mistreated, right? Or was it? If it tolerated this, what had happened to Enrapt to get it to want to kill its last owner? And it was fine to feel raging indignation for a friend.

Assistants don't make friends. They move on. He slammed the knob to frigid cold and shoved his face in the stream. The mammalian dive reflex kicked in in an instant and he felt his breathing slow. It was fine. Enrapt was its own person. Eryx was not in love with it. Eryx didn't even love it. It was just... a... like a barista. Paid to smile at you. Paid to make you feel appreciated and special. Trying to make rent, and that meant quiet jokes and good service. And even more, because it was trying to survive in a world not built for it.

A voice cut into his thoughts. "Hey! Wanna quiet down, bud? Some of us have prey instincts."

"What? Shit, sorry," Eryx pulled out of the spray. He realized he'd been growling the entire time his face had been in the water. "Really sorry." His ears flushed.

"Whatever," whoever it was called back.

With mechanical motions, he washed up, taking his time. He quietly acknowledged that yes, he was trying to time it so the whole routine would take thirty-five minutes. The gym could afford the water. At last, shivering and sopping wet, he took himself over to one of the big fur driers and put his ears near the vents. A few more minutes. Just a few more minutes.

"Sir?" came a quiet voice through the roar of hot wind.

Eryx's bright golden eyes flashed open.

"Sir, I believe you're next in line?"

"No." He hated himself when he said it. The fox spoke before he could correct himself, or at least, before he did.

"Of course, sir. I apologize for the mistake." Briefly, its amethyst eyes met his. They were perfect empaths. It knew, better than any anthro possibly could, that he was lying. But it intentionally accepted his lie. Why? It continued. "If I might offer a compliment: because sir does not make a habit of keeping track, he has avoided the tragedy of pride others with his physique would find too alluring to ignore."

"... Huh?" The few other men in the room blinked at the strange words just as he did.

"You're sort of jacked, sir. Good day."

Eryx gulped as the little fox bowed, turned tail, and left. A lion and a moose briefly appraised him and shrugged. The lynx stood, his fur plenty dry, and went to check himself out in one of the many full-length mirrors.

His jaw dropped. No, he wasn't breaking records, but... damn. He had developed a pectoral shelf that, after his insane workout today, was jutting out over his upper abs. His biceps had improved from unremarkable to forming a proper measurement of swoll, with taut triceps behind them and all of it rounded out by auxiliary muscles, rather than being oddly shaped from too many vanity exercises. His abdominals were broad and toned, though still not quite cut enough to be instantly identified due to all the fur. He guessed he just never really felt himself in the shower. Showering was to get clean and feel peaceful and sometimes have a fap. But... but none of that mattered. What mattered was that after having worked out maybe five times in a month, he had gone from "not out of shape" to pretty.

"Uh," he articulated, usefully. "Huh," he followed it up, thoughtfully. He checked out his back and ass. Same story: taut, broad, evenly distributed muscle. It had to be diet. It had to be. And he just hadn't noticed because, well, he'd been blessed to be trained out of vanity for his appearance. Vanity didn't do anything; it just sorta sat and judged and gnawed, all day every day. For him, it had been harder to exorcise the way he judged his internal states.

Which was coming back to bite him, right now. "Enrapt?" he called as he stepped back into the rows of lockers.

"Occupied," snorted a bull. "Missed your chance."

Well. Fuck. And it was the middle of the afternoon - no way to just wait around for closing time.

Heart hard so it wouldn't crack, Eryx left.

--

"Dusk, I have some stupid shit to tell you."

"You mean this isn't a date?" the slimmer cat teased. "Thanks for the coffee, anyway."

"Heh, no problem. And hey. Not trying to poach someone dating a guy named Shiv."

Dusk giggled delightedly. "He is precisely as mean as he sounds."

Eryx smirked. The two of them were seated in a coffee shop on campus late in the afternoon. Eryx had a short, flat white and Dusk had some vaguely coffee-related concoction that sounded like an Emily Dickenson poem. They weren't best friends by any means, but Dusk had an intelligent air about him underneath the limp-wristing and posing that Eryx wanted to ply for advice.

"I, uh. I think I fell for a fling."

"Yeah? Who is she?"

"Heh, he, actually. Kinda why I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, Eryx! That's exciting for you. Exciting for me, too." He bobbed his eyebrows over a playful leer. "Although, I have to warn you - gender doesn't really weigh in on how much of a bitch someone can be." He punctuated the 'bitch' with melodrama.

"Yeah. So, uh." Eryx spoke quickly to dodge the question of who it was. "We had a one-night stand, and it was... hot as hell. Oh stop, please?" He laughed softly through his tension when the leopard yowled under his breath. Dusk waved him on. "It, uh. Happened again a few days later, and then again a week after that, and then things got... weird."

"How so?"

Eryx searched for the words to craft his lie. "I see him acting the way he does around me around all his friends. Around everyone, I mean. And we kind of drifted apart. And I know that like... I know rationally, that means that for him, it was just a couple nights of fun, y'know?" His voice tripped over the conjunction. He cleared his throat. "But...yeah."

"Oh, kitten," Dusk murmured. "Can I...?" He put his slender fingers over Eryx's broad paw where it sat on the table. Eryx nodded, and the leopard rested them there, warm but nonintrusive. "You really fell for him."

Eryx nodded. The touch rippled through him comfortingly. It was surprising how effective the little gesture was. He was starting to get choked up. He coughed out a laugh to clear his throat. "High school shit, right? But I don't... talk to many people about real stuff, and my, uh. My last girlfriend said it fucks me up emotionally. I dunno. I like to chest-bump and roar a bunch and make problems go away that way, y'know?"

"Does that work?"

"Don't be an ass."

"Heh, sorry. I shouldn't tease. It's just that Shiv has the same problem. More... y'know, glaring or fine dining than roaring and chest bumps, situation dependent, but it's the same thing."

"So... thoughts? What do I do?"

Dusk leaned back in his seat, but didn't remove his hand from Eryx's. "First, I guarantee you boys aren't different from girls aren't different from anyone in between when it comes to the heart. Second..." He paused, and smirked at himself. "I'm a romantic. I'm not gonna tell you to just let him go. Sure, could just be you're both horny and hot, but it's worth trying. How long has it been since you've seen him?"

Eryx swallowed. "Well, just ran into him at the gym, but it had been a couple weeks before that."

"And you're still feeling it pretty strongly?"

He nodded.

"Then here's what I'd do. Track him down. Don't wait for the perfect moment. It won't come. Find him and tell him how you feel. Be ready for him to, anything. Laugh in your face. Blow you off. Jump in your arms. Hit you. And if it's good, it's good. And if it's bad, you'll live, and you won't have to feel like this anymore."

"Yeah." Eryx was nodding slowly and staring at the table between them. "So... lemme throw in a twist."

"You're pregnant?"

He chortled loudly enough it startled other patrons. He lowered his voice. "Fuck. No. Uh. It's an Assistant."

Dusk cocked his head and froze. "You're joking. It's the little guy in the locker room."

"Y-yeah. So that." He bulled through his words. "So do you think those are people? Am I stupid? Am I crazy?"

Dusk started giggling. It built and bubbled up. He gripped Eryx's wrist firmly. It became a guffaw, and then a loud belly laugh. People glanced over.

Eryx's gray ears went crimson. "I know, I know don't be a fucking ass, I know. I fell for a stripper."

"It's not that. It's not that - I promise it's not that. Although, yes, it is kind of that. It's that I'm one of... maybe three people in the world who would not think you're crazy. I know Assistants. I live with two of them."

"You what?"

He laughed again. "By the weirdest happenstance! Oh, honey. Go get it, tiger, rowr! That is an exciting life. But." Eryx just looked at the leopard like he'd grown a third eye. Dusk got somber. "Skies above, it's going to hurt your heart, if Enrapt wants to keep that little project going whether or not the feeling's mutual. They don't think like we do. They don't feel like we do."

"But they do feel, right? They're not... sex roombas?"

Another raucous giggle. "Hee! They do feel. They're very strange, but they do feel, and they feel deeply. Tell me, lovebirdcat," he purred over a grin as he leaned dramatically across the table. "Do you remember its name?"

"but you were there, with me, as we stood on the shore enrapt to behold three, four, and five moons soaring skyward, before-" How could he forget? It was seared into his brain.

"I love it. God, they're gorgeous. Ooooh, this is very exciting. I have no idea what will happen, Eryx. It could break your heart. It could do anything. But you need to do this. Oh, how interesting!" Eryx had never seen this side of the man. But it seemed so thoroughly genuine that he couldn't help but smile as well. "Tonight. You have to talk to it tonight." He squeezed the lynx's wrist again. "Please? Do it for you."

"Alright, yeah. Jeez. Didn't know you were this weird."

"I'm not the one crying over a sex roomba."

"Eat a cock, Dusk."

"Rowr~"

--

"That's a good cum-slut." Andor pumped out the last spurt of his climax and yanked Rapture's muzzle out of his lap. "Clean up; I have places to be."

"Sir, I have asked once before, and this will be the second time. Please treat me with respect." Its tongue went to work cleaning drops of rhino cum off the massive weightlifter's loins. It smelled sour. Andor never accepted the cleaning.

"You're a walking flesh light. If I wanted you to talk, I'd say so."

"Hey Andor!" shouted someone out in the locker room, "Treat it nice - and fuck's sake, stop taking so long with it."

--

"Andor, for the last time - cut the attitude, and come out of there. You've had it for almost an hour."

No response from the rhino. Instead, the door opened, and there stood Rapture with its belly distended as though eight months pregnant with triplets. Like an overfull water balloon, it hung out over its waist, down to its knees. Its muzzle dripped with cum and every pant was a hiccup, as though the stuff were still spilling out from its throat. It panted and stumbled a bit to catch itself, and then the air around it began to shimmer with heat and the amethyst glow deep beyond the backs of its eyes amplified until it was hard to look at. Before the locker room's collective eyes, the swollen belly retreated into the fox. As it did, a transformation swept over the Assistant. Lines of muscle that had been at most pleasantly lean pulsed enormously to swell out against the flesh of its shoulders and thighs. Biceps and back rippled tectonically, like the formation of new mountain ranges. Chest expanded as muscle packed onto muscle. Ass, already nice and taut, became beautifully bulbous. Its physique grew, and grew, inches of muscle sliding along one another as relative leanness pressed out against skin to show off individual muscle fibers in triceps and pectorals. Loins stirred and throbbed throughout the room in unbidden empathy as the fox, male at the time, underwent the most unfathomable pubescent changes: testicles swelled steadily, from unassuming grapes, to plums, to mangos, to footballs, while a python of a cock drooped out of a bloating sheath and gradually throbbed its way to vascular, purpling, raging erection, where it bounced visibly against a pectoral shelf like a fireplace mantle. The roundness of the belly finally slipped away into nothing, before valleys gored the surface and revealed a cobblestone eight pack, complete with deep, Adonis grooves. In a vain effort to balance proportions, the little creature grew in height by a few inches, but still looked like Mr. Universe on competition day.

Transformation complete, Rapture flicked its eyes across its audience - many of whom were doing nothing to conceal substantial tents, sexuality notwithstanding - and wiped its lips clean. Despite appearances, its cheeks were flushed and it breathed shallowly through its lips. Its newly gargantuan cock throbbed as though halfway to orgasm already. It seemed hardly able to speak in the face of its arousal. "Ahem. Pardon. I appreciate the respect you gentlemen have afforded me-e. Ah, just a moment." It turned back towards the room, braced its feet in a libidinous lunge, gripped its pillar of cock in both hands, and tugged rapidly a few times. Its body erupted in orgasm within mere moments and thick ropes of cum fired out as from a cannon to slap noisily across every surface of the small spa stall. The force pushed its feet back along the floor by inches. The climax lasted for well over a minute, leaving the onlookers in varying states of humility and boredom, before it took a long, patient moment to coax its titanic member back into its sheath and again turned to face them. It had transformed again. Its muscle was now slimming down, compacting, though the lean, textured surface of its body remained as muscle folded into itself to bring the creature's breadth back down to a manageable, merely Olympian physique.

"Pardon me. Andor is likely to need some help returning home, if he's able to at all. I could not permit his treatment of me. We are tools, but we are not disposable."

It wrapped itself in its familiar short slacks and vest - which were observed to clearly have substantial elastic properties as they strained against the tiny succubus's now-gargantuan frame - and made its way to the door. Eryx, who had witnessed the whole event, tapped its shoulder. He was terrified of the little thing, in absolute awe, and not a little worried.

"Hey," he said. It turned and fixed him with its violet eyes, still piercingly bright. He had watched the entire proceedings breathlessly. He was flush with arousal, but was fighting against it. "You okay?"

"What the fuck IS that?" someone snarled. Sounds of shock and horror erupted from those who crept towards Andor's cum-smothered, gaunt body where it lay in a room barely a square inch of whose surfaces had not been painted white. "I'm gonna be sick..."

Eryx quickened. "Ah, need a ride, then? I took my car, this time."

"Please, sir,"

The two swiftly trotted down a hallway and snuck out a back entrance before anyone could recover enough to give chase.

"Are you aware of a certain druid operating just outside city limits?"

"The one at Lily Boutique?"

"Just so."

"Yeah, my friend Dusk mentioned him. That where you're headed?"

"Please."

"Okay. Hey." He paused as they got in his car - which groaned on the passenger side and tilted that direction - and lay a hand on Rapture's head. "I don't know what you did, but Andor earned it. He's needed taking down a peg for years, and he shouldn't treat you like shit. No one should." He took a deep breath and met the Assistant's eyes. "I think I have caught feelings for you, but you were there, with me, as we stood on the sho-"

Enrapt smiled, took Eryx's paw, and kissed his wrist. "I'm glad." It vibrated. "May we first stop by your domicile?"

"Yes?"

"I have business there."

"Uh-huh."

"With you."

Eryx's heart made weird, tight, jubilant noises. "Uh-huh."

"Uh-huh," it echoed.

Epilogue

Eryx wasn't a getaway driver, but he knew what it meant to take a nonstandard route. He parked his shoddy POS and the two of them did a stodgy business walk up to his room, past a few second looks and turned heads. He closed and locked the door, turned, and Enrapt was in his arms, muzzle pressed desperately to his face in a kiss. He was shocked to find he could manage the weight. Plus two hundred and fifty pounds of Assistant attached itself to his torso, his thighs burned, and he held them up as the kiss deepened and stayed for a full minute.

Enrapt broke it off and dropped lightly to the floor, though its eyes stayed riveted on his luminescent, gold ones.

"I don't get it," he breathed, staring right back. "I've thought about it so long. All my reasons for... for being... in love with you, are bad."

"What are they, sir?"

"We've had sex, and you're beautiful."

"Insufficient, quite."

"I'm lonely."

"Pitiable at best."

"You're novel."

"Trivially transient."

"You're pitiable."

"Noble, but stupid by most metrics."

"You're witty."

"Correct."

"And you've... sallied forth against terrible odds with grace, humility, and dignity, and I respect that because I'm trying to do something similar. I see some of you in me." He struggled with words. He wasn't poetic. He was brash with people and dogged in research, but he wasn't a linguist. Still, he pushed through. "I can relate to you past the boundaries of our circumstances and I want to know more about you. I want to see you succeed."

Finally, it paused. There was a tension in the air. Eryx hadn't expected it to be so brutal with him. These were servants. It had even said that causing a person pain was unbearable for them. Which meant this... He cocked his head. "This is hurting you."

It nodded, slowly.

"Why are you doing it?"

"What I am about to say will sound like pride. It is not. You are aware that pollinating insects can perceive colors that flowers produce that anthros are incapable of ever appreciating? Or, perhaps, you are aware of people with perfect pitch?"

Eryx nodded. He could see where this was going.

Enrapt continued. "As visible light exists in a small fraction of the electromagnetic spectrum, so do your emotions. I see them and count them as easily as you see orange or blue and I see the vast oceans most people never experience. But I still... feel... what you feel. We don't desire that any of you feel pain. That is my understanding. That is how we have been made. It is a minimizing existence, to see myriad spectra and be compelled to herd people into these narrow bands. But even so, within that range, you still feel brightly. So you remain engaging to us."

"But... but why make me hurt, then, if you...?" He felt oddly small, even having to stare several feet down, both because of the brawny physique and the colossal sense of feeling.

"Because you hurt me," it said in a clipped tone that he had never heard from any recording of the creatures in any of his research. "We are accustomed to being treated carelessly, but you were fully aware of the bond we had begun to form and you caused me to hurt despite it." The skin around its eyes crinkled in a glare. Again - Assistants never expressed strongly. Slight smiles. Gentle tones. Polite confusion. Nothing beyond simple, soft emotions. But Enrapt fairly spat through its synthetic tones, "I am not the same as the others. I do not abide abuse. You hurt me, Eryx."

A chasm of feeling cracked open before the lynx as his gaze stayed with the tiny vulpine titan. He could see enough to know the depths were fathomless. It had been a single moment between them. That day, after Eryx's shower, Enrapt had extended an olive branch to try to explain why distance had arisen between them. Eryx had slapped it away with a single word. He knew that one word alone was plenty to to hurt someone. But even having seen what he had seen in Enrapt, he hadn't expected it to resonate so completely. What were these creatures?

"It seemed small in the moment. We met. Sexual appetites were sated. Emotions spiked. But you were kind to me, twice, and more, you were interested in what happened to me. You cared. You care now, even though you are afraid."

"I'm sorry. I was selfish." He watched Enrapt tremble. He knelt down on the faux wood floor of his cramped apartment, then sat. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, anymore. It seemed to have blended with the extra-dimensional maelstrom of the Assistant. It was strange, to hear his... fraught, juvenile emotions that had fomented over just a few weeks reflected in the alien before him. "I care about you. I still don't know why, not really. But... in the way that you do, you care about me, also, right?"

"Obviously." It wasn't an accusation. It was an acknowledgement, an observation of both of them at once. Obviously, from the way they were acting. Obviously, in the moment.

"Then... is that enough?" he asked. He blinked hard and wiped at his cheek. Ah, he'd wondered if he'd shed a tear. In the windstorm of Enrapt's emotions, it had been hard to tell what he was feeling. "Can we try this?"

"Yes." It stepped towards him. The lynx leaned forward cautiously.

"Yes?"

The answer was so simple. It was on brand for the Assistant. The calculations had been completed. The answer had been acquired. The response was a side-effect of the algorithm cleaning up. To confirm it, Enrapt took Eryx's hand in its and stepped forward to close the distance. They kissed again, more gently, less desperately, more warmly.

The storm was soothed. Their hands moved over one another, exploring, appreciating, as they continued to come together. Seamlessly, emotional closeness became intimate became amorous as Enrapt's now mammoth endowments rose to the occasion. The lynx rolled onto his back and tugged it atop him, and Enrapt aligned its member along the entire front of his torso without once implying it intended to use the thing. Finally, after minutes, with Enrapt's muscle-bound body sensually pressing against Eryx and the weight suspended lightly on its knees and a hand, the fox murmured, "Perhaps you have intuited this already, but may I answer a question you have?"

Eryx nodded cautiously. His paws at this point were constantly roaming Enrapt's body, tracing and memorizing every hard line of the physique it had stolen from Andor. One hand and its foot grabbed the denim of his jeans and yanked. A heavy metal button popped off and clattered across the floor.

"First, I am an accomplished seamster."

"This is my last pair of good jeans..."

"Second..." With his eager help, it dragged off his boxers and jeans in the same series of motions. It then, to his surprise, moved back over a foot to lower the head of its cock under his groin and between his cheeks. "Trust me that this will not harm you." Their juxtaposition was such that it could lower its lips to his needy erection. Its tongue curled around his shaft and dragged it up, into its lips, while warm, viscous wet splashed under Eryx's tail.

His heart pounded shallowly in his chest. He'd literally never even played with himself this way. A half-hearted finger at best before deciding against it. And now Enrapt wanted to shove a baseball bat of a cock inside him and... He lowered his feline mitts to its massive ears and in the same movements, both ground his groin up against its muzzle and arched his back to present his ass.

It pressed forward. The liquid oozing and spurting from its member was molten honey. It eased into his nerves, eased into his muscles, drenched his crack and his hole, and coaxed the tight, virgin sphincter open. "F-fuck... " he breathed. Its muzzle continued the attention to his dick as he was split open on Assistant cock. It felt like the same liquid was in both spaces, that hot, relaxing, enveloping fluid that lit everything with the most wondrous flame, and still more slipped inside him, and more. He found himself whining, found his ankles crossing over Enrapt's hips and urging it inward. "M-more..." he murmured while his body writhed. "Oh... Enrapt..."

Each word was gasped. The fox only paused to adjust its knees so it could push in another two inches. Pause, retreat half an inch, ease another two inches in. Again. And again. And again. Until Eryx's trim belly was stretched with the muted silhouette of its massive member. He looked down, and the sight, to his surprise, sent him over the edge. "Fuck, fuck!" His hips bounced with pleasure as orgasm roared through him, a firestorm that burned brighter, impossibly hotter, more, with each blast of climax that shot from him. His body undulated while Enrapt's muzzle contained him, swallowed him down, and its inexorable invasion continued. He whined, he snarled, he growled, he huffed, and he mewled with orgasm, and he finally noticed that his physique... dwindled.

"W-what... what are you... I thought..."

"Patience," it demurred. "I can't not do that. I always take. But from the first day, for you..." It jerked its hips forward, and they were flush with Eryx's. He stared, uncomprehending, at the bulge that nearly reached his sternum. Their gazes met again. "I wanted to give you the growth you sought. I want to give it to you now. I skimmed potential muscular gains from my clients with each service rendered. I drained Andor almost to his last breath." It spoke so casually of its life as an incubus. "And now, will you accept what I stole?" When Eryx felt that he had for a moment stopped burning with aftershocks of orgasm, he cupped Enrapt's cheek and jaw in his palm to brush his thumb along its cheekbone.

"Make me huge," he answered with an impish grin. Then, experimentally, he gripped with his ass and abdominals.

Assistants have different climactic triggers than anthros and humans. Enrapt heard the appreciation, the acceptance, the desire, and came like a hurricane of flame. It seared Eryx. Unlike drinking the fox's gyzym, somehow, it had warped his body such that the liters of essence that erupted from it like a geyser instantly, unstoppably flooded his body. Eryx shouted, not giving a damn who could hear, not able to care while pleasure lit every neuron. He came again hands-free, but barely noticed. His body expanded, absorbing the vital stuff like a desiccated sponge. His physique burgeoned by the second. Pounds upon pounds upon pounds of muscle layered over every inch of his physique as Enrapt loaded him with every iota it had stolen over its weeks of taking a sip here, a sip there, and then gorging on Andor. The efforts of dozens of men poured into Eryx and shaped him into a champion athlete over the course of ten continuous minutes of the fennec's orgasm.

And none of that vivacity came without virility. His groin, sore from exertion, bloated beautifully. Nuts piled up against Enrapt's lower abdomen. Cock soared up towards Eryx's sternum, with every bit of growth feeling like he was simply more, and more, and more erect, more aroused, more ignited with that same firestorm from before, but everywhere and magnified. His third orgasm when it came cracked the plaster of the wall behind him and back-splashed over his entire face and neck and chest.

Finally, a slender, trim fennec fox knelt under his hips, with the shape of its cock no longer outlined in his belly. It smiled at him from black eyes shot through with far-away purple while his newly enormous chest heaved with the exertion. "You can't keep it," it intoned playfully. "This is on loan."

"I could fuck for miles," he breathed, pointlessly.

"That is not an SI unit of fucking," it said, while its hands massaged the abdomen of a demigod. He crunched his abs experimentally and watched them crinkle and harden in response.

"So, we, uh. We go see that guy, now?"

"Yes. Or, we do this again, and again, and again, until morning, and go see him then."

"That one. Let's do that one." His massive paws engulfed its hips. Thumbs rolled adoringly up its torso. It looked so small, now.

"Eryx."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. I enjoy saying your name. Now, please, fuck me until you need to hire contractors to repair your walls, sir."

He snarled through a smile.

The moon rose.