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November 30. Just a few more hours and I can get out of this goddamn dump they call a kitchen.

"Elijah, quit fidgeting already and get that onion soup ready. That's the dude sitting in the corner. Fucker keeps trying to look into the kitchen."

Yeah, I'm fidgeting alright. You would be too. "Quit your bellyaching," I say, reaching for a ladle. "This shit takes time, OK? Else the taste is all funky." I scoop some of the stuff into the bowls. I can't help but glare at the dog's butt as he powerwalks out of kitchen with the soup sloshing back and forth on the tray. He isn't much of a looker, but if you're as desperate as I am, anything starts looking fuckable.

A few hours later, I'm powering down the stove and shutting off the gas. Of course, I'm the last one to leave. Of course I would be, on the one day I can't wait to get home and, as soon as the clock strikes twelve, paint the walls white. Sheesh, I can feel the damp precum stain. I still had an hourlong bus ride back home. At least I could nap. Or not, since my cock, the bastard, probably wouldn't let me. There, good riddance. Door closed. Now to walk to the bus stop. Hey, wha--

---

"Hello, cutie."

The darkness suddenly morphs into an excruciating bright white. "Hey! What, what." I try to talk, but my throat and lips won't cooperate with my mind. I hear my neck bone or whatever it's called creaking as I look around, trying to take stock of the situation. "What? Who." It's some jankyass attic or something. Some doofus with a goddamn hat towers over me.

"Who are you? What?"

"Relax."

Something warm, something that feels like a hand, grabs my, my ... Cock and balls? What? I strain my neck. Sure enough, Mr. Doofus has his paw wrapped around my junk.

"That serum's about to wear off. You'll be able to talk after a couple of minutes," he says.

"Why? Where am I?" I gulp and close my eyes, trying to focus.

"That's not all the serum does, though. It also makes your extra super sensitive down here."

Holy shit! That's the spot! YES! Fucker's pawing me. No! Get it together! "Stop! What are you doing? Where am I?"

His hand freezes at the base of my cock, and I feel my ears going down in disappointment. "You're not gonna ask me who I am? Funny. That's what everyone else asks first."

I swivel my hips to try and free myself, and that's when I notice the straps and shit. This dude is a complete freak. My ankles, my wrists. There's even this belt around my belly. "Look, I don't care who you are. I, I just need you to let me go, all right?"

"Let you go? Dude, come on." His silhouette. Dude has to be a fox, but the fucker's hat is so ginormous it's casting a shadow as big as the moon. "We're only getting started. Not even midnight!"

I open my mouth to say something, but what comes out is a yelp of pleasure--his paw is at it again. Up and down. I gulp and take a couple of deep breaths, just like my shrink had taught me, and I try to block it out. "Getting started with what? Where the fuck am I?"

"Where you are is irrelevant. But I suppose I do owe some sort of explanation." His finger, the pointy, crafty little thing, starts drawing a circle right around the ridge of my cock. Jeez, this guy is an expert. "You may have heard about me on the news. I very occasionally take a wolf somewhere and have fun for a bit."

Shit. That psycho that had been leaving victims in the most humiliating, compromising positions. "Look, pal." I try to think past the handjob. "I won't say anything, all right? Just please, untie me and we can forget about this."

I can't see him, but, behind the obscuring darkness, I can tell his features have morphed into that of angry creature. "Forget about this? Why would I do something idiotic like that? No." He stops stroking and holds my manhood. "You wolves and your massive cocks and massive loads. You think you're hot shit, huh?"

"Buddy, I have no clue what you're talking about. I, I don't know you, OK? Just, please, I have a family. And friends who'll want to know what happened to me."

"Oh, they'll know exactly what happened to you, Elijah. You're gonna be on the news, buddy boy!"

A pang of dread snakes it way up my spine.

"Surprised? Yes--I know your name. And I also know you're really, really, really pent up." His hand pistons up and down my cock. Fuck, I need it so, so bad. "No Nut November's a toughie, isn't it?"

I feel my toes clenching so hard that the knuckles pop. "How do you know, do you know all that?" No sense in hiding the pleasure.

"I've been following you."

I muster the stamina to open my eyes. His hand is a furry, rusty red blur.

"And I've been keeping an eye on you."

Oh, fuck, yeah, almost. Fucker's a pro. I can beg this crazy jackass to let me go later. He may kill me and dump my body someplace out in the woods where no one will ever find me, so I need to get one last good orgasm in. My claws dig into the meaty part of my palms, but it's a mild nuisance compared to the excruciating ecstasy between my legs. Sticky precum dribbles down my cockhead. Here it is, here it is! Almost! ALMOST! I open my mouth to howl long and hard along with that first burst of pleasure-- but what comes out is a pathetic whimper of shock and frustration! "NO! YOU BASTARD!"

"Oh, no you don't," he says, voice suave and eerily calm, hand planted firmly around the base of my throbbing cock. "It's bad manners to ejaculate, don't you know?"

Blood rushes to my head as I gnash my jaws together and buck my hips with all my might. I won't let the bastard take my orgasm from me! I can't!

"Struggle all you want, wolfy. Tonight, I call the shots."

I gasp when his dirty fox paw strikes my thigh. Stings a bit. But after a couple seconds, the overwhelming desire to cum eclipses the slap. "What kind of monster are you? You sick freak!" My throat is itchy. I wish the bastard didn't make me yell so hard.

"You wolves are the real monsters. You all think you're so tough with your huge loads and your massive balls."

I can't help but cringe when the intense, dull pain shoots up from between my legs up my spine--the filthy creature, he just flicked my balls with the tip of his finger. "Jealous? You should be," I say. I'm risking it, but screw this weirdo. "A bitch like you, you couldn't even cum a drop."

"Compared to how much wolf filth you have in your balls right now? You're probably right. But here's the thing--I've been conducting a scientific experiment of sorts."

Again, his paw grasps me. Yesss. Shit. His paw is filthy and gross, but it feels so goddamn good. FUCK.

"So far, I've toyed with a bunch of you wolfish types, and I've been having a merry old time measuring how much gross wolf seed you can pump out. And with you I think I've struck gold."

Mmmm. Fuck, I can get used to this. Aw, close again.

"November been treating you rough, huh? All you wanted to do tonight is kick back and blow your load all over the place, huh? I mean, you got a nice place. It's your call what you do with it."

FUCK! YES! OK ... OK, keep calm. If he doesn't know I'm close, he won't stop. Oh, shit, shit, shit, don't twerk your hips. Yes, that's it. Ah, almost there. Mmppph, FUCK, I'm gonna cum so hard! I'm cumm--NO, NO, NO! My cock twitches, hairtrigger away from splurging.

"Aw, what's wrong, pupper? Did I let go when you were gonna have fun?"

I take a deep breath. My cock thumps in tandem with my heart. "What is wrong with you?" I scan his face. Nothing. Just a black shadow. "Dude, you said you knew I was pent up. So what gives? Come on, just let me finish."

He holds up this stupid beaker. Am I in some goddamn laboratory here? "I'm actually not sure what to do," he says. "I do want to measure how much you produce, but if I let you cum, it'll feel good, won't it? To let all that gross wolf goo out." He begins stroking again. "And I don't like seeing wolves feeling pleasure."

I shudder and try to block his paw out. Fucking shit, he's so good at this. "How, how did you even know I was gonna cum?"

He grabs my balls, and I mewl as the mild ache registers. "Your crown jewels, son. They pull in when you're on the brink." He lets go and taps the tip of my dick. "And you start spewing a lot of icky precum." The bastard takes his finger off, and a string of my pre follows.

"Look, man, you have no clue how bad I need this. You make me cum and let me go, I swear I won't go to the cops or nothing."

Good Lord, he sounds like a psycho when he laughs. "You think I'm afraid of the cops? Dude, I've been on the run for months now. You really haven't been following the news, have you?"

Screw this crazy motherfucker. I need to cum so bad. "What do I need to do? Please, come on! This is torture! I need it so bad!"

"No one needs to cum, you gross little wolf." His hand--his gross foxy hand--slaps my thigh. I wince. "Food, shelter, clothing. Those are the essentials. You do not need to cum, especially if you're a disgusting wolf. You think you deserve pleasure?" He strokes faster. "Do you?"

"Yes! I do! DO IT! MAKE ME CUM! You goddamn rat bastard!" I thrust my hips like no tomorrow, desperate to shoot my load. "I NEED IT!"

He stops jerking and taps my nuts with the pads of his fingers, and the brief stab of pain jolts me out of the buildup.

"NO!" I whimper and hyperventilate as a splurge of pre shoots out of my cock and onto his hand. "No, no, no. Jeez, youuuu, shit. You gotta be kidding me. Make me cum. Cum, cum, cum! Oh I need it so bad!" My mouth runs by itself. I have no conscious control anymore.

"A compromise. How does that sound?" he says. Again, I feel the pleasure of his hand--the sick, disgusting pleasure that I wish didn't come from him--going up and down my cock.

"YES! YES, YES, YES! KEEP GOING!" Goddamnit, he's gonna make me cum! Yes, yes! Oh, I feel it. I feel the cum. It's bubbling. Stewing. So good!

Yes, yes, YES! WHAT! "WHAT THE FUCK! YOU BASTARD! KEEP STROKING!" NO! Why the fuck did he let go?! Oh God it--the cum, I feel it traveling up my cock, it's, it's--oh fuck, it's coming out into that goddamn beaker, but it burns, oh shit, it burns! NO! It's supposed to feel good!

"Never had someone stop touching, huh? Doesn't it suck?"

"UGH! FFFFFUCK." I buckle my hips, desperate for even a featherlight touch. "TOUCH ME, YOU BASTARD!" My cock squirts and squirts, but I feel none of the release, none of that toe-splaying pleasure.

"But if I do that, you'll enjoy it, and why would I ever want that?" I brace for one last painful spurt, one last agonizing wave . . . GAH! My cock throbs, and out comes a miserable few drops. "You piece of shit." I'm gonna kill this motherfucker. "I'd been saving that up for a goddamn month!"

"I'm well aware. Such a waste, isn't it?" The sick bastard grabs my poor cock. Shit, why couldn't he have done that half a minute before? "But here's the good news." With his other hand, he holds up the beaker--the sides are slick and sloppy, coated with my own wasted seed. It's about halffull. "Out of all the lovely wolfies I've had the no-pleasure, ha ha, get it, of messing with, you've cum the most. And I do think that calls for a lovely little gift."

Next thing I know, my cock is fucking burning. Shit! Oh God, the bastard's pawing me! Too sensitive. "NO! NO NO NO! SHIT SHIIIIIIT!" I summon all my strength to rip my cock out of his grip, but the dipshit has bondage skills. "STOP! IT'S TOO MUCH!"

The slimy fox chuckles. "I thought you wanted a nice handjob? Now you don't? I'm tired of these silly mind games of yours--come on, enjoy life." Stroke stroke stroke. "And doesn't it feel particularly good here?"

HOLY FUCK! Not the head! "GAH! QUIT IT!" I hear my toe knuckles cracking. It would hurt, but the agonizing searing between my legs eclipses it. "MERCY! MERCY, PLEASE!"

"Poor wolfy!" I wish I could rip his goddamn voicebox out, holy shit! Gah, it hurts so bad. Fuck! "I guess someone's a bit sensitive, huh?"

I'm nuking this motherfucker's bondage. Aye-ah! Yes! The table, this bed, whatever the hell it is, shakes. Kiiiiyeah! It rattles and makes an awful noise.

"Look at the big bad wolf! Mhm, those muscles getting a workout? Lemme help." The fucking fox's paw goes into hyperdrive. Jeez, FUCK! Holy hell, that hurts! "Doesn't that make you want to get out quicker? Huh, wolfy?"

The judder that comes next is deafening. Then I hear it.

"Honey? The fuck was that?"

What I think are the fox's ears go up, like some furry insect's antennas. "Shit. They're awake now, no thanks to you." Yes! "HEY! I'M UP HERE!" PLEASE, HEAR ME!

"Shut your goddamn trap, you filthy beast!" Before I can answer, before I can scream again for a chance at getting out, the fox has this rag shoved up against my face. Jeez, I can smell his gross hand from behind. I try to scream, but the energy, the life drains from me. I manage to get one hip thrust in before it fades to black. "And I was just about to dump your ass out there next to the garbage cans, too. Shit, you wolves really do have to ruin everything."

I feel so sleepy.

No, I can't sleep. I just can't. I need to get out.

I need . . .

---

Good Lord, my head is pounding.

"No, Detective, we just found him up in the attic with that rag stuffed in his mouth."

That. Shit, my throat. It's all scratchy. That's the woman from before.

"I see, ma'am."

I hear static and radio chatter.

"Hey, buddy, relax." My eyes jolt open. This dude, Persian cat, dressed in blue, he puts his hand on my chest. "You're all right. Your stats seem OK, we got you hooked up. Cops should be here to get a brief statement and then we can head straight to the hospital."

Beep. Beep. Ambulance. God, my head hurts so bad. "It was this fox." My words sound slurred. Did he catch that?

"Yeah. We figured. It's that . . . 'serial edger' weirdo that's been making the rounds."

"Mr. Elijah?" A guy in a suit, a cheetah, appears at the door of the van. He has a shiny badge dangling from his beefy neck. "May we speak for just a minute? I know it's been rough, so it won't take too long."

"OK." I look to the left. Goddamn needle in my arm, hurts almost as bad as my noggin. "You need a statement?"

"Yes, Mr. Elijah." He takes a little notebook out. "Can you give a brief description of the, uh, incident?"

Shit. This is nuts. I wish the fox'd slipped me some memory-fuckingup stuff, but I remember it too well. The ache in my nuts. "Detective, he edged me and then. Uhm. He made me cum but he ruined it."

The cop's forehead wrinkles. "Good grief, he gets more and more sadistic with each victim."