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I felt the wind knocked out of me as I was thrown to the ground, unable to fully recover before the weight of King's massive stature was on me. His hand moved from my throat to my collarbone, sliding slowly down until it was sideways on my chest.

"King, it's me!" I cried out, my hands struggling against the massive weight of his, bearing down on me and attempting to crush me.

"THAT'S NOT MY NAME" King snarled down at me, thrusting suddenly and applying a jolt of pressure to my chest and shoulders. His hand was so close to my throat, one wrong move and he could've collapsed my windpipe, easily. My hands would slide to his wrist and squeeze at it, whimpering "It's me, Nico..." as I felt myself growing less able to pull in full breaths of air.

"Nico!?" he would bark back, his head leaning down and sniffing at me.

"You don't smell like Nico" he said rather flatly, his pressure increasing more as his hand slid from throat to chest. I felt certain that, if I didn't resolve it quickly, he was going to crush my ribs into my lungs.

"I-I bathed while I was in town, I'm sorry..." I winced, closing my eyes and struggling a bit more, anything to get some oxygen.

"Bathed?" He'd ask. I felt a slight bit of pressure lifting off of me, and I would gasp for air as I insisted "YES. YES I BATHED! I washed at dad's house!"

The pressure lifted a bit more, but I could still feel he was holding me pinned down, staring down at me. It was the same as ever, even though he had no pupils, I could tell when he was looking me in the eyes.

"Prove it. You have one chance. Prove you're Nico, or I'll kill you."

"I-I just recently ate the wrong serpent and nearly died. It was supposed to be fangless but I grabbed the wrong one. You took me to the forest's heart after our date. I hunted a deer recently, you left me alone to do so and I proved myself to you, and--"

I trailed on with a play-by-play of all the substantial things we'd done together in our time in the woods, and as I rambled on I could feel his pressure lifting off of me, slowly, until he absconded from me. I sat up, rubbing my chest, catching my breath.

"You smell terrible" King said as he stood and walked away from me, leaving me to scramble to my feet and ask "Is that it? You attack me when I get home and then walk away from me?"

"I'm embarrassed I did that" he would admit, though he was still walking away from me.

"Then turn around and FIX it, King. Apologize, or something!" I snapped. What a lovely return to the woods this was shaping up to be. King would indeed stop, turning around to face me, looking down at me once more.

"Why would I apologize, when I truly didn't believe it was you?" he asked.

"B-because you still HURT me, even if you thought I was someone else. You can't even admit that?"

"I was trying to protect our home."

"I know, but--but it still hurt. It still upset me. Can't you just say you're sorry for that?"

"I let go of you as soon as I realized it was you. Harm wasn't meant toward you, do you still demand an apology even though I was only trying to protect our home?"

"I--" I paused. He really hadn't meant to attack me, per se, he was right about that. I supposed it was bratty of me to demand to be apologized to for something that was ultimately my doing, choosing to wash off my smell and not thinking about how King may find that unfamiliar. I should've announced myself by name sooner, I should've explained my smell, I should've done a lot of things differently, but I didn't. My ears folded back.

"You're right, it wasn't your fault. You were doing the right thing, King, I'm sorry. It just scared me."

"I understand. Imagine how I felt, though, thinking some stranger was breaking into our home."

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah I can see why you came at me like that."

I stood there for a moment, feeling a bit small. The day before had gone horribly, and I'd come home wanting to be met with love and welcome and wasn't receiving any sort of that. My lip quivered, I felt so stupid. I was going to cry again, and King was standing there just staring at me. I swallowed it down, though, wiping the wet that formed in the rim of my eyes and shook my head.

"You're still upset." he'd say.

"Yeah." I admitted. He asked me to explain, and as I started to, my eyes would well up with tears again. I explained to him how Buck didn't believe he existed, and how angry he was with me as a result. I explained how dad didn't seem to care I was home, and how he didn't listen to anything I'd said either. I explained how I wanted to come home with fun stories to tell and be met with a hug from my partner, but instead I had only bad news and was met with hostility. Everything I'd been so excited for had gone horribly wrong, and as I explained all that to him I began to weep.

"You wanted a hug?" he asked.

"Yeah" I whimpered. I was rubbing my eyes with the sides of my hands, my posture drawn inward like a miserable child. King approached me, though, and I felt it. My face was squished to his torso and he would wrap his big arms around me, squeezing me. I'd missed his terrible smell, that decaying musky smell, and I rubbed my face in his ratty fur and sniffed it deeply as I tried to mark myself in his scent, to get back what I'd lost. He held tightly to me and even swayed a bit, a gentle relaxing gesture that made me feel as if he knew it was soothing.

"You stink awfully, Nico. We must fix that." he'd say as he hugged me. I replied a muffled "mhm" from amidst his thick, dirty fur. I squeezed him with all my force, hugging all my love onto him. I was so happy, at the very least, that I'd been given a hug.

"We'll need to fix that first thing. I cannot be around you for long, the smell in your fur is entirely too harsh. Come with me" King would say, breaking the hug and grabbing me by the hand. He lead me to the creek, where he would pat me to go swim around in it for while. I happily undressed and did so, leaving my clothes at the shoreline as he sank to all fours, dipping his nose into the water and beginning to guzzle it down. I looked to him, cocking my head in curiosity as I watched him drink. He'd never drank water before, not in front of me at least, and I asked him why he was doing that.

"Do not worry about it" he replied, and, at that moment, I was indeed so plagued with other thoughts that I didn't let it concern me. I simply enjoyed the water instead, wading around and dunking below the surface as I let the natural smell of running creek water soak my fur. King had come to join me, and even played with me a bit, something that had become increasingly rare in the past two or so weeks. We splashed about, wrestled like animals, and enjoyed ourselves in the water as I let his musk cover my fur once more.

That playing went on for about an hour. King eventually exited the water and shook his coat off, like a dog would. He then turned and told me to come out of the water as well, and to join him at the river's edge, to dress again. Though I was confused, I followed his lead, and after doing so he told me to lie down on my belly and close my eyes. I did so without much thought to it, as I knew he wouldn't want to feed from me if I was on my stomach.

"This should help with your smell" King would say, and I felt him crouch, his heavy hands pressing down into the earth beside my shoulders. He was looming over me, and I was resting with arms crossed, my chin on my criss-crossed forearms. Then, I felt it. Warmth, intense warmth, on my back. It was wet, and the smell was atrocious and ammoniac. He was urinating me on me, on the middle of my back at first, but then angling his hips up so that it streamed down onto my shoulders, down my arms. He'd shift his hips a bit more, splashing my head and causing me to jump at first before he angled downward, to my butt, my legs, ordering me "lie still, lie in it for a moment".

I didn't really say anything the entire time, there wasn't much to say. Admittedly, I was aroused, but I felt this was purely comforting for him. I wondered how he'd feel if I rolled over and showed him how aroused I was to be marked so obscenely by him. Still, there was something nice about how he'd calmed down so much since earlier in the day. I could feel my clothes heavy with liquid, the temperature cooling to meet the temperate level of the world around us.

"You will wear this for the day, and let it set into your fur. It will make you smell at least somewhat normal again." he'd say.

"No complaints here" I replied, though the smell was a bit irritating to the sinuses. His urine was clearly biologically designed to mark territory, which I found to be a strange detail his body retained after his curse. He no longer desired food or water, but his body still excreted waste normally, and it still produced pheromones. He was obviously still "alive", in most senses of the word, and the more I got to experience his biology the more I found myself confused by how exactly he worked.

"I have things to show you, things I brought from the house" I would say as I lied there, and King would approach me and squat in front of me, leaving me inches away from those heavy orbs that hung between his legs. His fingers reached down and ran through my hair, which was still wet. I smelled terrible, and as he combed the strands with his nails he would ask "what sort of things?"

"Stuff from my life I thought you'd find neat. I also brought you a gift, something special." I said.

"Come, then. I have something special for you as well. Maybe not today, but it will happen soon."

We walked back to the shelter where I had left the bag, and I brought it out to where the campfire was. I rummaged about for what I wanted to show him first, pausing to pull the beer from the side pocket, cracking it and handing it to him.

"Do you know what alcohol is?" I asked. He held the can in his hand, sniffing the rim.

"Yes. Your kind imbibes it to get intoxicated, for fun. Is this a type of alcohol?" He asked.

"Yeah, it's called beer. It's a lot less strong than things like liquor. I wanted to share it with you, but you get first sip."

King looked at it for a moment, and I began to feel sure he was going to toss it or pour it out. Much to my surprise, though, he'd tilt back his head and upend the can, guzzling down most of it in one go. He had to drink it so strangely, his head angled upward with the beer draining down into it, because he lacked the lips to keep it from running out between his teeth otherwise.

"It tastes sour, somewhat bready." he'd say, tilting his head curiously, "How long until I am supposedly intoxicated?"

"Well, you drank it pretty fast, so probably not long. I wonder if you'll even get intoxicated, though. You...do still have a bloodflow, I assume, so it should have an effect on you" I'd say as I finished off what he had left, which was only about a fourth of the can. After that, I proceeded to return rummaging around in the bag, pulling out a photo album and setting it to the side as I pulled out an old stuffed animal, a matted and somewhat ripped old feral fox, with glossy plastic eyes and a stitched smile. It's limbs were limp, and as I handed it to King I asked him to "be gentle, he's old".

"He? This isn't a living creature" King would remark as he held it in his hands. Despite his awareness of the obvious, he was gentle with it, holding it in his two hands with it's front arms dangling over his fingers, it's smiling face looking at his vacant expression.

"I know he's not really alive. My mom and dad gave him to me when I was little, though, and I believed he was alive, so I just keep calling him a 'he' to this day." I explained, watching as King handled it delicately, tilting it and letting's head flop slightly.

"Your kind does give comfort objects like this to their children, yes. I've heard of this behavior. They don't normally keep them, though. Why do you still have it?"

"I've just always been like that, I keep gifts, especially stuff from when I was little. Mom's not around anymore and dad's not exactly a generous type, so...it feels nice having reminders of when things were better."

King nodded. "I can understand that. Children normally name these, don't they? Did you name it?"

"Polecat. His name's Polecat. It's something my grandpa used to call me, so I guess I picked it up from there."

"That's a term to refer to skunks, though."

"Yeah. It was an endearing thing, 'cause we're foxes. Our musk is very skunklike, so I guess that's why he called me that."

"You did smell like a skunk, yes, but it's far better than that awful chemical smell you brought back with you. I look forward to the skunk smell returning." King said as he handed the plush back to me. I tucked him away safely in the bag.

I showed him a few other things I'd brought from home: a flag I had hanging from my ceiling, some of grandpa's war pins, as well as some pins I'd collected for myself, and a few old books about the town I'd lived in.

"Your kind cherishes symbols, it seems," King would say.

"Yeah, it's different for everyone. Things change, the world changes, you lose people and things you love and I guess sometimes you hold onto what was there," I held one of the pins in my hand and rubbed the enamel with my thumb, my ears folding back a bit, "guess I just like thinking about the good things in life."

"Nostalgia." King said. I nodded.

King continued as he looked to me. "It is a form of grief, isn't it? The sorrow of things gone, and things that will one day be gone. Your belongings are all relics of a world disappearing around you."

I gave a solemn "yeah, I guess" as he turned his body in his seat to face me now.

"That's the reality of the world. All things are born, and all things decay, and one day are gone. It's a strange thing your kind does, holding so strongly onto the past."

"Sometimes it's just so beautiful, though," I replied, "that holding it only in your head just doesn't feel sufficient."

King sat there for a while. I got the feeling he had more he wanted to say, but was holding his tongue.

"I have...a photo album to show you, too, but it's a lot of older photos. I'm sure you're tired of the running theme." I spoke quietly.

"No, show them to me. I want to see what you cherish."

I tentatively packed away all the things I'd gotten out except for the album, and scooted a bit closer to King as I opened it up. It was a photo album I'd been working on for years, full of old pictures from when I was young, and even older photos from before I was born. I showed him photos of my mom and dad, of me when I was a kid, of grandpa. I had photos of grandpa in the war, overseas, in his uniform. There were a few photos of my great-grandparents, and of the house we'd lived in when I was young. I sat with him, explaining every picture, and it felt like we talked for hours about it. He seemed surprisingly docile, unopinionated, and I wondered if it was the beer calming him down or if he just felt like being nice.

"In the wild", he'd eventually say, "there is very little room for attachment to the elders. I think it is something unique to your kind, the strong familial bond. You seem deeply attached to yours."

"I am, and i'm not. I'm attached to the way things used to be, and the way I wish things were, but not so much to how they are." I'd say.

"Is it far better you came out to the woods, Nico," King would say, "you are becoming your own person, not leaning so heavily on these idealizations of a world that doesn't exist".

I sat there in silence after that, wondering if he was right. It made me very sad to hear, and I'd pack up my photo album and stare into the bag, lost in thoughts and introspection for a while before noticing I'd forgotten his gift.

"Oh, I brought you something" I'd say as I dug into the bag, "but it's alright if you don't like it. It might be weird for you."

"Oh?" King would ask, "what is it?"

"Close your eye--" I paused, "uh, well...look up to the sky. Don't peek."

King did so, and I pulled from my bag a necklace I'd worn a lot before moving to the woods. It was a metal chain with rather thick, sturdy links, and I wrapped it twice around his wrist and clasped it, telling him to look.

"A chain?" he asked as he looked down, "like one you wrap around a feral's neck?"

"Uh, not exactly...though I guess it kinda looks like that. It was my favorite necklace for a long time. If you don't like it, though, that's okay."

King raised his wrist to his face and inspected it, twisting his arm and watching as the links shifted slightly amidst his wirey fur.

"No, no I like it. I have never been given a gift before." he admitted. I was surprised to hear that, at first, but it was obvious when I'd thought about it. There was no one he'd ever known, therefore no one to ever give him gifts.

"I want to give you something in return," King would say, standing up as he looked out into the woods.

"A new home for us, a bigger one. I want to take you there. We will move into a new home. I will prepare it for you." King took a few steps away from me, turning around, looking at me before turning away from me once more.

"I am going to go away for a few days, to prepare it. Three days, two nights. On the third night, I will return, and take you to our new home. While I am gone, I want you to return to your truck, and stay in it where you are safe. This shelter is old and represents a part of our relationship that is gone. We are stronger now, deeper, more connected, and we need a home that represents that. You are to stay in the woods, though, because I want your next travel to civilization to be with me."

"Wow, King," I started, sitting up a bit in surprise, "what inspired all this sudden change?"

King would stare at me before raising his hand to his to his boney face, tapping a nail on the chin of his skull a few times.

"I believe I heard this is what your kind does before it marries."

---

I spent the next few days thinking long and hard about what King had said, wondering what his intentions were with a new home. He'd mentioned marriage before, many times actually, and I supposed he was trying to coax me toward it despite my vocal apprehensions to such a commitment. Of course, I knew legally we weren't bound together, but I still felt apprehensive even at the concept of marrying him so soon, even if it was only between the two of us. Still, my future was leaning more and more toward being exclusively him, with how Buck had acted when I'd gone into town and with how little was going on back at my old house.

I was sitting in the truck bed with the door open, basking in the warm morning air on the third day. I'd subsided the past few days on caught fish, having learned from King how to gather them. My truck miraculously still started, and I'd let the engine run for a little to make sure the battery would last a while. I tried to do that every time I visited the truck, though every time I visited it I found less and less reason to do so. There was nothing in it's old insides worth holding onto, nothing I didn't already have with me, nothing except grandpa's hunting knife. Thinking on that, I found it under the mattress and held it up, looking it over. I'd brought the backpacks with me to hold onto while King prepared our new home, and King had taken the blanket and other things inside. I knew he wouldn't want me to keep it, but it was the last remaining things in the truck worth holding onto, and I felt realistically there would be a point at which I never visited the truck ever again, so I took the knife and tucked it deep down into the backpack, underneath a bunch of clothes I doubted I'd be wearing any time soon.

The day passed with little else going on, and I eventually nodded off, only waking up when I heard the telltale footsteps of King approaching.

"It is ready" would be the first thing he'd say, and I'd sleepily sit up and slide out of the truck, gathering up the bags before he would offer to carry one for me.

"How far away?" I asked.

"Twenty or so minutes away from here, south. Follow me." he requested, so I locked up the truck and followed. We walked for twenty minutes, maybe a bit more, and then I saw it amidst the trees: a cabin. It looked to be a one-floor cabin with what could've been a loft, as there was a window in the center of the front wall, above the awning. A few windows, a lovely covered porch, dusty looking.

"You built this?" I asked as we approached, standing at the front steps now.

"No, it was abandoned. I simply cleaned up and decorated the inside, as I've heard your kind enjoys. Come inside."

I found it curious how a home like this was up and abandoned, but I supposed it wasn't farfetched. It was a rather primitive cabin, likely owned by a single person. They may well have passed away, or simply used this as a hunting cabin in certain seasons and King had simply made home of it during this time. That was a possibility, I thought, but one we'd worry about if the time ever came. As he stepped onto the porch and opened the door, I followed behind, setting bags just inside the door as I looked around the place. Dust still lingered in the air, visible in the beams of light coming through the windows, but it was indeed cleaned, and surprisingly furnished.

In the back corner was a two-person bed, a real bed, on a wooden frame. It had blankets and bedsheets on it, but King had also covered it in pelts he'd gathered from his cave. There was a table in the middle of the room with stools, a chair near one of the front windows with a bookshelf near it, covered in old books that King had dusted. In one of the back corners was an old wood stove, metal, and a pile of wood on the floor next to it, a chimney above it with that corner of the house made of brick instead of wood. I got the feeling, from the lack of prior decoration, that it had perhaps been a hunting shack or trapper's den many ages ago.

King had swept it with a broom that was now resting in one of the corners, and though it still smelled old and dusty, it truly felt like a home. I walked around it slowly and took in the experience as he shut the door behind me.

"I can't believe this has just been here this whole time. I came to these woods all the time as a kid and never knew it was down here" I said as I approached the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"It was occupied until ten or so years ago, a man and his son. They came out here seasonally to hunt, but I assume the older man passed away as I haven't seen either of them in over ten years."

"Yeah, I guess you'd know all about that, having lived here all this time" I said.

"Yes. They mostly kept very close to the house and the tree stand nearby." King said as he approached the bed, sitting on it with me. "They shared this bed, as you and I will."

I snorted a quick laugh and remarked "well, not exactly like we will. I think we'll probably do a few things they didn't."

King would turn his head to face me, opening his mouth slightly, giving me one short "ha", something that totally caught me off guard. I couldn't recall having ever heard him laugh before that, or really seem to find much humor in anything, and I wondered if it was something that was just uniquely funny to him or if I was beginning to see him soften into something more comfortable, more relaxed.

"Yes, I suppose father and son don't typically do the things we do together" he said.

"Speaking of..." I would murmur, my hand reaching for his knee before sliding slowly up his thigh, pushing his ratty fur against the grain, "typically couples like to...christen the new beds they sleep in, together."

"By mating?" he would ask, thankfully getting the hint. I nodded, and my hand would trail a bit further up until it found his sheath, squeezing on it, the meat in my hand thick, hot, heavy as always. His tip hadn't emerged yet, but he would sit there and allow me to grope on it, squeezing the soft shaft inside with the warm flesh of his sheath acting as a masturbator, stroking it slowly and deeply. He sat, as he always did, unresponsive, watching me curiously like it wasn't even his dick being stroked. That was something I never really got used to, how stoic he was during sexual encounters, but I'd grown to understand it was just his personality. We'd had sex several times, and he was always that way, his body rising to arousal eventually, mating until climax, all the while a vacant, curious stare on his face as I went about doing most of the work. Occasionally I would elicit thrusts from him, heavy breathing, a seldom exhaled grunt that one could almost swear was a moan, but never anything like one would get with a fellow anthro. Sex with him almost felt like bestiality, at times, with the barrier between our behaviors.

"Nico," he would speak suddenly, and I would turn my head upward to look at him, asking what was on his mind.

"I want to...do it differently, this time. I want to...let you do things to me, things you want to do, and let you achieve your climax first. I do not want to focus on mine tonight." he spoke.

"Are you sure? I tend to lose steam if I cum first, I don't want you left masturbating with me all tired next to you."

He nodded, "yes, yes I'm sure. I have put you through a lot lately, and I want to give you a night that is very special and indulgent."

The thought warmed my heart. I had truly felt worn down in the past few weeks, between the deer and the serpent and the situation when I returned home from town. I tried to endure it the best I could, but admittedly I had felt a bit overrun, though they were all results of my choices. I felt incredibly lucky he'd want to give so openly to me, and, as I sat there staring at him, a smile would creep up my face until my teeth were showing, prompting King to remark "you are visibly very happy".

"I am, yeah. I'm really happy" I'd say as I looked down at his sheath again, asking him to "lay on the bed, please, on your back."

King did as he was asked, lying on the bed with his hands resting on his chest, his legs spread slightly apart. He was looking down between his legs as I crawled onto him, leaning down first and kissing him on the skull hole where his nose used to be. I then turned around, facing away from him, and scooted my hips downward until his sheath was right at my crotch.

"This is somethin' I always wanted to try with a guy with a sheath, haven't really been with many that let me top." I said as I handled his sheath a bit more, angling it toward my dick. It was surprisingly simple, the bare skin at the tip surrounded by foul-smelling black fur, speckled with schmutz. I picked some of it out of his fur as I fondled it, using my thumbs to open the front of the prepuce, easing a thumb into the soft, steamy flesh inside. His legs would tense a bit, his toes curling up some as he asked "what are you doing?"

"I'm gonna stick my dick in" I said flatly, prompting him to ask "what?" as I spit onto one of my hands, slathering my already half-erect shaft until it was wet.

"Easy. Lemme know if it hurts," I said as I scooted forward just a bit, pressing tips with him as I felt the rim of his sheath open, the head of my dick popping inside. My eyelids fluttered with delight as I let out a whispered "oh yeah" as the warmth suctioned on my tip. It was incredibly hot, and as I scooted forward a bit I thrust and sank into it, fully hilting inside the sheath, erect, pulsing. Though his sheath was rather thick, I could see an outline of my dick in the skin, bulging in the shape of it as I felt the slimy warmth of the fluids inside surrounding me. God, it felt divine, just as good as anal--if not better. King was squirming, though, and while hilted in him I'd turn my head back to ask "you okay?"

"Y...yes. It is very stimulating, though..." he would say, and as I pulled back a bit I could feel the flaccid dick inside throb with life before I thrust back in. He was going to grow erect, I was sure of it, so I decided to make the best of the time I had inside him. I began to thrust, rolling my scrawny hips and feeding dick into his sheath as I watched his toes splay and curl, his hips shifting around. It must've felt strange to him, very strange, but it felt absolutely divine to me, and I could tell from the bizarre sensations that I wouldn't last long inside him. It was wet, and each thrust brought forth sloshing sounds of suctioned precum and sheath slime mixed around in the heat of his dick sleeve.

I could feel it, though, King was growing erect, and it was tightening the pressure in his sheath as his dick began to swell with life and compress the space between us. After a few minutes, it got harder to thrust into him, and as I would pull back I could see tip emerging from his sheath, alongside a rather disheveled sounding "N-Nico, this is grotesque..." from a fussy King behind me. Finally, I would have to pull out entirely, my dick glossy with sexual fluids and reeking of the smell inside his sheath, metallic, cheesy. I wagged it a few times as I looked back over my shoulder at him, asking "enjoy that?" as I watched his dick slip a bit more from his sheath.

"That was perverse, but I am not surprised. You are a perverse creature, Nico," King would say as I climbed off him, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, watching his dick tense and stir with life. I looked to his face and cocked an eyebrow, remarking "you have no idea."

"I have no idea? Howso?" he'd ask. What a wonderful question to ask, I thought, and I'd pat the edge of the bed and tell him "get on your knees, bend over the bed. We're going to do something different."

King would sit up and follow my instructions, getting on his knees, bent over the bed. He was so tall, his legs so long, that mating with him would only involve a slight squat, maybe even standing.

"Are you going to sniff my backside again?" he'd ask as he braced himself on the bed, crossed his arms, looked over his shoulder back to me. I would slide off the bed and stand, walking behind him and admiring the view. He was such a scraggly beast, his ratty tail laying down over his butt, hanging limp between his legs.

"More than that. What if...we do our normal thing, but the roles are reversed, eh? Whatcha think of that?" I asked.

"Howso?" He'd ask as I approached him. I put my hands on his ass, his boney ass, and squeezed that firm muscle, groping on it.

"I want inside you. I want to mate you." I'd say, King looking back as his ears stood up, curious, uncertain.

"In my rump?"

I licked my tongue across my teeth, nodding. "Yea. Yea, right up your rump."

King clicked his tongue against his teeth, his tail moving to the side slightly, still covering his most vulnerable spots. I stepped forward, my hand grasping at the base of his tail and holding it. I could feel the muscles tensing, stiff, and I would ask King "you're tense, you wanna stop?"

"No. It is just so undignified...I am mortified."

"Mortified? Why?" I asked.

"Because it's unnatural. My backside is so obscene. Do you really want to be putting your hands and mouth all over it? Or," he paused, inhaled, then exhaled, "or inside it?"

"Absolutely. I get that it's a weird world for you, but this is kinda my thing, and..." my hand would lift his tail, causing the ring of his tailhole to pull upwards as I revealed it, causing him to huff and look away from me, "I think I can show you something that'll really change your mind on it."

"Go ahead, enjoy yourself" King would say, and indeed I planned to do so. I would drop to my knees, pushing up his tail and proceeding to tongue at his ass. King did as he always did, his shoulders jumping as I began to feast on the sour tastes under his tail, the pungent smells, the offenses on every sense in my body. I was obsessed, and my hands would dig their fingers into the meat of his ass as I pressed the flat of my tongue against his hole. I wanted to open him, and I intended to open him, and I could tell by the way he shifted about and exhaled audibly that he had never been opened up before.

"Y-you are...foul..." King would murmur as I grunted happily beneath his tail, leaning back and licking my chops as I laughed out a content "yeaaa..."

Eventually, he was well saturated, lubricated. I leaned back a bit and stuck my fingers in my mouth, sucking the salt off them and getting them drooly wet as I gave him a preparatory "alright", my left hand holding his tail upright as my right hand made it's approach, "this is gonna feel weird."

As I gave him the warning, my middle finger pressed at his hole, and I could see his tail's base twitch and tug downward as I applied pressure, penetrating. My finger sank into his asshole, slowly, and it was as hot as his sheath. It dipped in, knuckle after knuckle, until it was at the base, and I hooked it downward in hopes of finding a prostate. Luckily for both of us, I pressed down my finger and felt the certain lump, firm, and I began to stroke it slowly as King's arms shifted, moving from being crossed to laying in front of him, his hands grabbing the bedsheets and squeezing at them.

"That...is vulgar, Nico." King would murmur, facing away from me.

"How's it feel, though?" I asked, pulling my finger back and pushing it back to the base, keeping it hooked and stroking on his prostate, pulling an audible "mmfff" sound from King as he replied "...surprisingly pleasant". I believed him, because his prostate was swelling, growing firm, and his dick was hanging down between his legs, halfway out his sheath and tensing as I stimulated his prostate.

"Alright, get ready, two fingers are goin' in now" I said as I pulled my finger out entirely, preparing to stick my fingers in my mouth and re-wet them when I saw it, all over my middle finger. Black material, almost sooty-looking, staining most of my finger. I found it bizarre, as he didn't eat, so it couldn't have been feces. I held my fingers splayed apart for a moment before pressing my thumb to the pad of my middle finger, rolling them together and watching as it smeared and wiped away with a bit of effort, leaving a lightening grey color before wiping off entirely. I brought my finger to my nose and sniffed it, finding the previously musty, earthy smell of his ass to be intensely strong on my finger. His ass had smelled so moldy, it left me wondering...was it mold? Was it actually mold? Surely not. I hoped not, at least, because I'd already inhaled quite a bit of it multiple times now.

I wiped most of it off on my thigh as King asked "are you alright?", and I reassured him all was well as I impulsively stuck my fingers into my mouth, feeling the strange, almost ashy texture of his sooty residue in my mouth as I covered my fingers in drool. I would spit after I pulled them free, though, spitting out as much as I could to prevent swallowing it, just in case it was indeed something toxic. That said, despite my slight apprehension, no part of me wanted to stop. This was too hot, and we'd come too far. My index and middle fingers pressed to his slightly opened hole now, penetrating and causing King's shoulders to jump again, the pointed shapes of his scapula drawing close together as his arms tensed up as I pushed both fingers all the way to a hilt, curling them and applying pressure to his prostate, proceeding to pet it rather aggressively with my fingertips.

King's reactions were growing surprisingly animated, compared to his usual stoic behavior. His body would tense and shiver, his tail eventually stopping it's protest of the action, remaining relaxed and outright, not quite vulgar enough to flag it but no longer trying to cover himself. His heavy balls would clench up, draw close to his body, and sag back down as his dick continued to protrude further from his sheath, fully erect, tensing as the upper side of his dick was stimulated by the soft fabric of the bedsheets against which it was pressed.

"W-what are you doing..." King would ask, his mouth open slightly, his breathing growing somewhat audible.

"Rubbing your prostate. Relax, breathe. It's gonna make you cum, let it happen" I informed him.

"Unbelievable..." King would groan as I increased the pace of stimulation. I went through waves of fast, intense stimulation that elicited a lot of audible and animated responses out of him, then would slow and apply lots of deep, intense pressure, swapping between them as I fingerfucked him. My other hand would press my thumb on his taint, stimulating his prostate further from outside his body, and after several minutes of a mixture of the two, I could tell it was getting close. His dick was very wet, pulsing, drooling a steady stream of clear precum that was staining the wood of the floor below the bed, as well as the sheets.

"Nico," King would groan. He sounded so messy, so disheveled, in a way I'd never heard him before.

"Yeah?" I asked, keeping the pressure on him.

"I...I love you. I love you." He said. I was surprised he said it so suddenly, especially when I was given a third "I love you" only seconds later, but then I understood why. His dick would suddenly throb several times and begin to spit aggressive shots of his seed onto the cabin floor. He ejaculated like a horse, sperm loads so heavy and so forceful they would make an audible splat as they were thrown against the floor. The vein of his dick was pulsating, spitting off ropes of that milky white slime as it had soaked the floor so much that it was starting to pool on the wet spot in the wood, too saturated to soak in quickly, forming bubbles in the puddle from how forcefully the shots were hitting the floor.

King was trembling, his entire body was trembling, his tail bobbing as his sphincter muscles clenched in rhythm with his orgasm. I didn't let up, though, I didn't even slow down. I kept the pressure, kept the stimulation, kept my fingers on his prostate and intended to milk him through not only one climax but as many as I could, until he ran dry. This lead us to a situation where I went at his prostate for well over five minutes, possibly over ten, prompting King's auditory sounds to rise from grunts and groans to full moans, his body trembling, his knees quivering, the load in the floor so heavy that it had began to seep between the cracks in the floorboards.

While he was clearly in the throes of what seemed to be his third successive orgasm, I decided to finish us both off in unison, and I had to act quickly to do so. My left hand that had been stimulating his prostate from the outside would pull away, palming the puddle of King's cum on the floor and coating my hand in it before slathering it heavily all over my dick, getting myself fully lubricated. I then stood, keeping my fingers stimulating him as my left hand held my erect shaft angled, ready. One foot braced itself on the bedframe, knee drawn upward, and in one fluid motion I would withdraw my fingers from his rectum, lining up my dick with his hole and penetrating, my other foot finding the bedframe as I braced myself, climbing on top of him and wrapping my arms up under his back as I mounted him in a position that left me hugging his back, my dick speared to a hilt but angled downward to drag against his prostate with every thrust, which I wasted no time in offering generously to his body.

King, though wracked with the throes of pleasure, would take notice that I had most certainly stuck my dick inside him, and was now mating him fully, and though I expected some sort of fussing about how foul it was that I'd done so, he instead shifted his body a bit and angled his hips to better aid me in thrusting against his prostate. I, now mounted in an awkward, hugging position, quite frankly fucked him like the animals we were. My thrusts were fast, deep, aggressive, bed-creaking, hip-slapping, loud. I was moaning. King was moaning. The sex we had once I dominated him was theatric, and yet in no way performative. I was lost in the throes of breeding this dominant, massive beast, and King was having his orgasm milked out of him for all he had. My first and his final orgasm came almost simultaneously, in a beautiful display as I thrusted through the entirety of it, taking no time to stop and relax, humping his boney butt as it clenched me, his seed breeding the old wooden floorboards while mine pumped into the moldy caverns of his bowels. I fucked him like it had been me making the rules all this time, and though his moans began to subside as his climax waned, his body continued to tremble with the aggressive stimulation I gave him until I would finally grow weary, empty, drained. I hilted one final time and stopped, hugging him tightly before releasing the grip on his chest, planting my hands on the shoulders of his back and looking down at him as he breathed heavily, sweating, salivating, still weakly clenching.

"You are..." he began, "a perverse, sodomic thing."

"Thanks, you're not half bad yourself." I replied, one hand patting his shoulder a few times approvingly.