Service with a Smile 2/2

Story by Quin on SoFurry

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#2 of Service With a Smile

This is the second half of a story. A number of you probably skipped the first to get this...


This is the second half of a story. A number of you probably skipped the first to get this part, since it's the part where the porn starts ^^. If all you care about is boners, jump down to the fourth paragraph after the first sectional line. If you're not here for the story, I'm not going to expect you to suffer through it :3. comment if you like it! Also, standard warnings: dicks, butts, boners, wangs, cocks, yaffinginhell, etc.

Service With a Smile 2/2

"There's only one bed, sir" Kyle chirped, stating the obvious as he and Turner dropped their luggage in the small hotel room.

Glancing around the room for a couch or any other place to sleep and finding none, Turner frowned. "Doesn't look like there's much room around here..." The huskie stuck his head into the miniature bathroom, "and there's only a stand up shower in here. No bathtub. I guess we're sharing the bed, think you can keep your hands to yourself?" he asked jokingly.

"No." There was a moment of silence, then Kyle continued, "When you ask me something, I answer truthfully, it's not something I control, sir. I'd like to keep some dignity, if you'll let me." There was another awkward pause. "I know you're trying to avoid giving me orders, sir, but if you just tell me to quit fagging things up, I'll have to." The purple and maroon helper gave a sheepish smile, and the two laughed together for the first time since they had arrived. "The trip over here was pretty rough, and the suit's been working on my head the whole time, could we just maybe do something to take my mind of this, sir? Having to leave the key back in the states kind of puts me in a bad position." He glared as menacingly as he could at Turner, although he suspected that it was less than intimidating.

Turner thought carefully before responding. He had promised himself not to take advantage of his friend. Trapped in a helper suit until they returned home, he was utterly at Turner's mercy. The dog's eyes slid hungrily over Kyle's feminine body. Kyle didn't look anything like the paunchy raccoon that has existed before he had donned the suit. The dragon's form was mostly covered by baggy, poorly fitting clothing, but more than enough curves flesh showed through to get Turner's gears grinding. Kyle cleared his throat uncomfortably, breaking the reverie. "Ah. Right, sorry. Anyhow, would you really want to risk losing the key while over here? Who knows how long it would take to find someone who could get you out of it without getting ourselves arrested? Besides, it's not like you're in any physical discomfort, you know?" That wasn't precisely true, but Kyle resisted correcting it. The suit prevented him from getting any kind of sexual relief while it was worn. That, combined with the suit's constant mental intrusion, was already wearing him down.

"Sir, the order." The timbre of Kyle's voice betrayed his unease, although his expression was calm and inviting, his face unable to convey anything other than smiles and pleasant moods.

"Okay, okay. I order you not to try to grab me or anything tonight while we're sleeping. Happy? Let's get some dinner and get washed up before we crash, right?" The trip had taken nearly three days, and there hadn't been a chance for a decent meal the whole time. Catching planes and taking the rail and calling cabs to make it to the remote town of the conference had been hellish.

"Yeah, that sounds good..." With an effort that was nearly physical, Kyle tried to avoid continuing, "sir." Making something close to a frustrated growl, he grabbed Turner by the wrist, dragging him out of the room. "If I'm your property, until the end of the trip *SIR* then it seems like you're obligated to take care of me. Maybe liquor will get this thing out of my head."


The club's music boomed, and Kyle ground against his hips against his target, rippling his entire body against the larger figure of the young dalmatian in time with the music. Skin tight cutoff jeans and a ragged shirt 3 sizes too small were the only things covering him, and he drank up the attention they earned. He had convinced someone to give the clothes to him... or buy them... or something. Had he pitched the old clothes? It was lost in a haze of alcohol. It didn't matter. Mental blinders narrowed his world to the chiseled abs and muscular legs of his dance partner, making lascivious pantomimes and gestured promises of what he would do for the spotted figure. The smell of sweat and excitement in the club was intoxicating, but the particular scent of the spotted figure in his sights was simply driving him wild. There was a musk and an odor of absolute need that was irresistible. Kyle's own desires clashed and melded with the desires imposed by the suit. The need to serve, to please, to worship, to pleasure burned in him, and he lacked the fortitude or desire to fight them. The resolve and willingness to manipulate to sate those needs was nothing a true helper could have managed.

Kyle had never known how to dance in the past, but the motions were as natural to him now as if he had known them all his life. Twisting his body and gyrating his hips in perfect rhythm with the thumping beat seemed as easy as breathing. He swayed and bobbed with effortless grace, despite the drinks already in him, and downed the one in his hand. The dalmatian yelled something that might have been "I'm getting tired, can we sit down for a minute?" Kyle mouthed back "Too loud, can't hear." And started moving away, smiling coyly. The dalmatian gave a pained look, but followed. Maybe Kyle couldn't control himself, but controlling someone else felt fantastic. After a few more minutes of teasing, the dragon went in for the kill. Grabbing the larger figure's hemp necklace, he reeled the catch in until his mouth was by the larger male's ear. "I'm leaving now," the words were sharp, and he palmed the dalmatian's crotch, squeezing for emphasis on each word. Without another word, the dragon pushed himself away and slipped toward the door and out of the club.

The dalmation caught up to him two blocks away form the club, wheezing from sprinting after from the club. "Where *wheeze* where's your owner?" he managed to gasp out as he caught his breath. Ignoring this, Kyle latched onto his wrist and dragged the dog into his hotel and past the front desk, catching an odd glance from the late night clerk. Kyle swiped the keycard to his room and shoved his intended victim into the tiny suite. The room was illuminated dully from the flickering bathroom light, never switched off from Turner's earlier exploration.

"Ahh... I'm Adam," the dalmatian introduced himself awkwardly as he pulled his clothes off. Kyle slipped both his pants and his shirt off in a single motion while falling back into the bed and kicking his sandals across the room. "You don't quite seem like other helpers I've ever met..." His unassuming British accent hadn't been audible in the club, but in the quiet of the of the hotel room, it only added to the exotic feeling of sleeping with a complete stranger.

"They make us better across the pond, I guess." Kyle grinned evilly and wrapped his arms around Adam's midsection. As the larger figure finished stripping, the helper pulled him backward onto the bed. "You're going to love this." He took the dog's large, black shaft in his hand, and began pumping slowly as the canine flipped the rest of his body onto the bed, leaneding back. "Tell me what you want, or stay quiet, or just push me where you want me to be." Without further warning, he leaned over, and swallowed Adam's entire length. Kyle felt his mouth fill and his throat expand as the over-sized member stretched rubbery flesh within him. The intense feeling of rightness washed over him.

Adam moaned and thrust his hips up into the helper's face, arching his back, and pushing his head into the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. Was karma rewarding him for something? Each time he came close to climax, the helper would expertly pinch or flick or twist something, dropping him down again, prolonging his pleasure. 'If these things ever get more popular we're not going to see another generation,' he thought to himself. Tensing up, he felt teeth for a moment. Nearly pushing the helper away, he shuddered with pleasure and froze mid motion. The rubbery nubs of the artificial teeth massaged his member, and the helper deftly tugged his sack, causing a moment of pain, but sending waves of pleasure through his body. His eyes rolled back, and he eased into a relaxed position once again. Every time he felt as though he had regained enough presence of mind to ask who the hell this helper was, or what it's gender was or anything at all, for that matter, his thoughts were obliterated by some new and unexplored type of carnal pleasure. It could wait... it could all wait... he hands sunk to the back of the helper's head, and gently guided, trusting any real decisions to the expertise of the mysterious creature. He was just along for the fantastic ride, someone else was driving.

Kyle luxuriated in his work, the wordless demands of the suit finally silenced by his submission to them. He was making someone happy. He was serving. He was going to be fucked. He was fulfilling the only purpose he could imagine. The tangy tastes of sweat and pre-come coated his mouth. Some disconnected part of him wondered how he could ever have ever attached meaning to the term "straight," much less applied it to himself. What context could it be put in that would make it seem reasonable? He pushed two fingers into the side of his mouth, whetting them, and circled Adam's pucker with the tips, eliciting a moan. There was a quick yelp as he plunged them in. Continuing to bob his head up and down, he curled the two fingers and found the prostate immediately, familiarity with sexual anatomy springing effortlessly to the forefront of his mind.

Pleasure radiated from deep inside of Adam, the heat of it making him melt back into the bed, limp, save for involuntary twitches and uneven breaths. He had always been a top, but this kind of ecstasy could convince him otherwise. It could convince him of pretty much anything, if it would just keep going, he silently admitted. He had come close to the edge over and over, and was happy to simply let the helper hold him there. This was the sort of thing that just didn't happen. it was like winning some bizarre lottery. There was no need to rush anything. "Just... yeah, everything you're doing is perfect, I need all of it..." He tried to say anything constructive, but came up short for lack of concentration.

Without warning, the sensations stopped. "Whaa? That was great, just keep going! You're g-" Adam opened his eyes as he spoke, and found his words silenced by a passionate kiss. The helper's muzzle pressed against his own, a long, dexterous tounge pushing its way into his mouth and exploring. The taste of his own musk and salty-sweet pre struck him as deliciously forbidden, somehow a taboo that he was able to break without consequence. Smooth, rubbery skin pressed down against him, and he felt the helper's hips rock back, sliding his member between its cheeks. He reached down to the creature's crotch, and felt nothing but a smooth surface. "I don't get to come," the androgen crooned apologetically at him, "so I have to work twice as hard to enjoy myself when you do." Its face displayed an unreadable emotion though as ever, it wore its unending smile.

Pushing back and lifting his body, Kyle prepared to impale himself on the quivering shaft. It pressed at his pucker, lubed wonderfully with his artificial saliva. This was finally it, and he didn't care if his mind had been twisted to these desires, he was going to get what he wanted. What he needed.

The door exploded open. "WHAT THE HELL, KYLE?! You ditch me and leave me thinking you're in some kind of crazy trouble, then just come back... here..." Turner's expression evaporated as he flicked the lights on. Kyle experienced the following moment of awkward silence in much the same way that one experiences a falling glass of wine, moments before it shatters onto something white, porous and irreplaceable. Three pairs of eyes watched and waited, knowing that things had gone south, and wondering who would react first.

Tossing Kyle to the side, Adam vaulted from the bed and snatched up his clothes. He slipped past Turner and out the door while still pulling pants over his ass. "I gave it a couple of drinks, sorry if I broke it, it's acting really werid, I'm just a grad student please don't come after me!" and he vanished around the corner of the hotel's long hallway. Jaw open and wordless, Turner closed the door, staring blankly into space while he regained his composure. The suit kept his friend from making anything but pleasing faces and saccharine smiles, but the feeling of Kyle's eyes boring into him from behind was unmistakable.

"Ah. Ok. Um. Kyle, that's my bad, but you kind of caught me off guard there," Turner stuttered. "I did not expect that. You still ditched me though, was that a good idea? And this guy... is hooking up like that smart? Also... how drunk are you?" The figure of the helper on the bed was smiling warmly at him, its voice as sweet as ever, "Yes, sir. I believe it was a fantastic idea. Yes, sir. I believe hooking up was very smart. I'm very drunk, sir." The huskie winced at the terseness of each sentence. Kyle was laying it on thick. "You've given me 5 orders since I put this suit on. Since I've become your slave. Did you know that, sir?"

"Kyle, don't be like that, you *asked* me to give you the last one. Besides, you know I don't think of you as-"

"Maybe you should." Kyle cut him off, mid sentence. "Sir, don't you understand that you can order me to do anything you want? I hated how much I loved the thought of you as my master. I hated that I was being forced to love it, sir. The orders you gave me were a joy to follow. When I saw that, everything else fell into place."

"God damnit, stop talking like that!"

"Yes sir," Kyle cooed, and sprawled luxuriously on the bed and emitting a thrumming purr. The pale light from the hotel's dingy lamps gave Turner the first good look at his friend's naked body that he had been treated to since the day before they had flown over, when Kyle had only just put the suit on. The dragon's figure was all curves and rounded edges. Wide, firm hips gave way to a slender waist, the belly covered with soft, lateral scales, similar to those of a snake, and a striking shade of maroon. A darker, royal purple covered the rest of his body. His face was delicate, with a short muzzle and iridescent irises, which never seemed to be quite the same color. Hair reaching partway down his back, shot with streaks of magenta and a deep lavender topped it off. If Turner hadn't known his friend's gender, it would have been difficult to guess. The crotch of the suit was empty, save for a circular symbol with a question mark extending from it, a mocking imitation of the the male/female symbols, with the pattern of a padlock threaded through the center. Turner jerked his head away from the naked form when he realized that he was staring.

"Master, you want to fuck me." The figure on the bed contorted itself into an impossible position and made a kissing gesture. Its hips bent back and over until they rested on its head, one leg supporting its chin, the other stretched out gracefully, with its tail draped over backward, teasingly concealing its vent. "I know you want to fuck me. You've wanted to since I put this suit on, sir." Turner Opened his mouth to respond, but was preempted by the dragon, "And now you can order me to stop, or you can let me do what I do best. I can smell you starting to leak pre, I'll bet it tastes amazing." Looking into his friend's eyes, the huskie wasn't able to find anything recognizable. "Either way, I'm getting what I want, sir, and after coming that close... I want it *badly*." Kyle's gaze remained locked with his for a moment more before leaning back in the bed and exposing itself completely, waiting invitingly.

This was beyond endurance. Turner silently prayed his friend would forgive him later, but there was only so much he could resist. In all honesty, it had been ' so much' the moment the words "very drunk" were uttered. Wordlessly, he dropped his pants and hurled himself onto the bed. Taking only the time to grab Kyle's shoulders, he thrust savagely into his friend. His lust mixed with anger, embarrassment and shame at what he was doing, fueling a mad frenzy of forceful action.

Beneath his roommate, Kyle rode as best he was able, pushing down onto the shaft up to the bulge of a knot with each of the huskie's strokes. The sheer force of each thrust rammed his head into the headboard of the bed, sending sparks flying through his field of vision, but he didn't care. Finally, finally, finally, he was being taken by his master. All other desires melted away, as he felt the severe friction within him and smelled Turner's lustful pleasure. Pressure within him built, and against all reason, he felt as though he was going to be able to climax, imagining his new lover driving him forcefully over the edge, longing for it. "Please, master... Turner... I'm so fucking close, let me come," he whined, needfully. His master had to be able to give him the relief he needed so badly.

Turner was lost to sound, to sight. His own physical need and the sensations of fulfilling them were his world. The voice coming from his friend was as nothing. The rhythm of his pumping followed the thumping of his heart, pounding in his ears. The pressure of fingers on his back, tracing patterns as they matched pressure with his, Kyle's tempo matching his own. The muscles contracting around his member at the apex of each beat. If there was a reality outside of this primal music, he was unaware of it. With every impact of their hips, Turner's mind receded, concentrating only on his impending climax.

With one final surge, the bulge of of the huskie's knot cleared Kyle's ass, and Turner let out a shudder of satisfaction. The feeling the helper's muscled squeezing down around the base of his shaft sent shivers of pleasure through his body, and his knot immediately swelled to full size, locking them together. "Keep going, sir, please!" With renewed vigor, Turner resumed his thrusts, slower than before, but each more powerful than the last, slamming his smaller friend against the headboards with increasing violence, but eliciting gasps of pleasure from the smaller figure below him. Any discomfort felt by the helper was easily ignored by both, fiery passion burning away all other concerns.

Already close, Turner continued bucking, knowing that he couldn't hold out, couldn't prolong the pleasure for much longer. The helper beneath him was panting quickly and pressing back into its master with each stroke, trying to extract every possible bit of pleasure, both for itself and its master. Between the artificial need to please and the very real need to be pleased, base instincts blocked out all else. Its master was close, and after that point of completion, any hope of personal satisfaction would vanish. Tears of frustration rolled down the creature's ever smiling face, even as it felt the massive tool pressing up into its gut begin to quiver and pulse.

With a roar, Turner unleashed a torrent into Kyle, jerking spazmodically, milking every drop of pleasure from himself possible. Kyle felt pulses of hot semen fire into himself, the salty, burning sensation filling him with a deep sense of satisfaction and purpose. Feelings of completion and purpose flooded his mind, easily recognizable as alien when juxtaposed against his own, still burning needs, frustrated denial, and the ache of receding climax. "Keep going, sir... damnit to hell, Turner..." returning to himself, Kyle swore, as he jerked himself up and down down onto the huskie's frame, scraping for dregs of spent pleasure.

Post climax, Turner felt the energy ebb from him. Muscles through his entire body burned from overspent effort, and his arms were rubbery, barely supporting him. He flopped to one side, dragging Turner, still tied, with him. The helper's face was as pleasant and docile as ever, but Kyle's eyes revealed his frustration and disappointment, tiny rivulets streaming down his face. "Please, I need to come so badly, sir... I haven't ever needed it like this, I'll do anything."

"Jesus, Kyle, I'm sorry... if you're not too drunk to remember this I'll be apologizing more later." Not knowing what else to do, he pulled Kyle into a close hug. Had he just raped his friend? Was he trying to comfort someone he had just violated for that very violation? The thoughts disturbed him deeply. "Just relax and go to sleep and we'll deal with in the morning, ok?" Immediately, the storms in the helper's eyes cleared, and it sighed contentedly, falling into an easy slumber. Laying awake and motionless for what seemed an eternity, Turner wished there was someone to order him into an untroubled sleep.


Cold. Cold where there had been comfortable warmth just a moment ago. Cold somewhere sensitive and vaguely uncomfortable... Consciousness slowly came to Turner as he roused himself. The sheets on the bed were thrown back, and he realized the feeling came from Kyle pulling free and getting up. There was a rattle from the bathroom that he easily identified as asprin tablets being shaken out of a bottle. "Morning, sir. You need any asprin?" Kyle's voice sounded through the door. "Ah... I'm good. That's fine." Was he acting like nothing had happened because he couldn't remember? Because he was angry but didn't know how to express it? Turner tried to think of what to say next. He had to think of some way to get them home, to make things right. "I remember last night, by the way, sir." The dog's blood ran cold.

"It would be good if you didn't worry about it, sir. Things got weird the minute I put on this suit, sir, so let's just roll with it." Kyle walked out of the bathroom, and Turner did a double take. Somehow he doubted that the outfit on his friend had been in his wardrobe before this trip. He was wearing something between shorts and a skirt. It was velvety black and came halfway down his thighs, leaving just a bit to the imagination to anyone who hadn't seen the rest already. His shirt, a belly tickler, was tight, and trimmed with magenta, matching the streaks in his hair, which was pulled back and held in place with a thin purple hairband.

"You're staring again, sir," Kyle gave a sincere looking smile, and a blush managed to show through the thick fur on his friend's face. "Can we just assume that what happened last night was ok, and that if it happens again, it will still be ok, sir? I got... a little frustrated last night, but I'm just going to have to deal with that until we get back. There's no sense spoiling the rest of the trip just because of my predicament. Besides, to be perfectly honest, last night was a lot of fun for all the drama," he grinned sheepishly.

Turner looked at his friend with a concerned expression, "I'm just worried. It seems like you're kind of losing yourself in there."

"Yes, sir. I'm having more trouble telling where the suit starts and I end. You're my friend, but I think you're going to have to accept that you're also my master until we get back to the key, sir. Fighting that off in my own mind is exhausting, and quite frankly, I just don't feel like it. Like I said, sir, there's no sense worrying when there's nothing to be done. Also, I kind of like it when you stare, master." Turner blushed even harder.

The dog hopped out of bed and made for the refuge of the bathroom to wash up for the day. Halfway across the room, he kicked something, sending it skidding across the room. It slid to a stop at Kyle's feet. Picking it up, the helper considered it for a moment before speaking, "It's Adam's wallet..." The helper stared at it as if might bite him. "It has his number, I guess I should return it..."

The two stared at each other for a moment, the strangeness of the situation sinking in, and Turner finally managed to crack a smile. "If you go back to being straight when you get out of that stupid thing again, you're going to take baths in bleach for a month, man. By the way, where the hell did you get that little 'fuck me' outfit?"

"Oh god, I made some poor guy from the first club buy it for me, then ditched him immediately." It was Kyle's turn to blush now, and he covered his face, trying to hide it. "I can't remember where I got the other one from last night or what happened to what I was wearing, but at least this one is a little more respectable from those tiny little jeans." Turner laughed long and hard at that.

----------------------------------------Epilogue--------------------------------------

In the weeks since returning, things had gotten weird. Turner considered the situation as he was walking back to their apartment. Kyle's excitement at getting out of the suit had lasted less than a day. Since then, he had nearly stopped talking entirely. He kept sneaking looks at reflections of himself when he didn't think turner was watching, and never went out any more. The closest thing to social contact he has was his phone, which he was on a lot these days. If it was with someone from their group of friends though, none of them were fessing up to it. They all knew something was up, but as far as the huskie was aware, that was it.

He hadn't said anything to Turner about it, but the dog was almost positive he had lost his job. Or quit. What the hell could he say to the guy, though? It wasn't like he could confront him. Turner considered mentally how that might go, "Hey buddy, sorry about fucking your head up and using you for sex! Was it against your will? I'm not sure, but who cares! By the way, if you can't pay the rent, I'm kicking you out!" Any responsibility for the current situation was his. He had to say something, or find some way to help Kyle get over this, though.

The door to his and Kyle's apartment stood before him. The huskie took a deep breath before opening the door and walking in. This was it, he had to start things now, while his resolve was strong. "Hey Kyle, you in?" There was no response, but that didn't mean anything. Searching through the entire apartment, he found no one. Where the hell was that raccoon? On the kitchen table, he suddenly noticed a letter addressed to him. Picking it up, he felt something with more heft than just paper inside. He tore it open and pulled out a folded sheet.

"Turner, first off, I want to apologize the the last few weeks. I know you feel like you've hurt me somehow, and I've been trying to figure out whether or not that's true since we got back. I thought that when we got back, everything would go back to the way it was before we left, and to an extent, I was right. I never realized how much I didn't like me until I had the chance to be someone else. I never had someone else really like me until then. Someone who I liked back. Do you have any idea how confusing it was to find that I still had feelings for Adam days after I was out? Someone who I wasn't even attracted to any more! He and I had talked about it the whole time I was over there, putting a one week limit on things, and promising to keep in contact as pen pals when I came back.

I've been talking to him as much as I could afford since then, and I've decided to move in with him. I'm sorry if this seems abrupt, but I know you would talk me out of this if I gave you a chance. You would tell me it was a terrible idea, and you would probably be right. Thank you for everything. I've left a check for the next couple of months' rent on your dresser. I'll try to come back and visit when I'm able, and I'll send my new number when I've got a phone in the area. Lastly, please hang onto this for me. If I ever decide to come back, or things go south, it would let you claim ownership. If nothing else, it should show that I still trust you. Your friend,

-K"

Turner read the letter silently to himself three times in full before he could convince himself that it was real. He remembered the extra weight in the envelope and turned it over. There was a metallic clang on the table, and the key to Kyle's helper suit bounced to a rest on the surface. "Good luck, man," Turner spoke softly to the empty room, "and for the record, I would have told you to go for it."

END

So I hope this one seemed a little bit more upbeat than the last. I almost think that I scared people away with the way that one came to a conclusion ^^(). This one ends with everyone getting what they want, and no one getting screwed who didn't ask politely first. Again, I love comments, criticisms and constructive suggestions! Themes that would be hot in future stories? Let me know!